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The Bondmaid Adventures - Volume 3 by Simon Grail

The Bondmaid Adventures - Volume 3 
(Simon Grail)


The Bondmaid Adventures – Excerpts


Books 5 & 6

From: “Bondmaids in the City”


Taken from the Carnival, April and Niki are passed on to a crooked dealer in stolen bondmaids…


After an hour rattling along what seemed to be a country road April heard the bustle of a city gradually envelop them once more.   Presumably this was Flauntwell.  Finally the cart turned off into an echoing enclosed space.  It drew up and April heard one of their captors call out: ‘Hallo, Charlie.  We’ve got the goods.’

A new voice replied: ‘Bring ‘em through here, then, so I can have a proper look…’

The sacking was pulled back, their ankles were untied, and they were pulled off the cart onto their feet and led across a stretch of cobblestones and through a doorway.

‘Hook them up there,’ said the new voice.

April felt herself stood in a corner and a hook from some ceiling-hung chain passed through the loop of her rope collar at the back of her neck and pulled tight, drawing her painfully upright.  She felt Niki being similarly secured by her side.  Then their blindfolds were pulled off.

They were in what looked like a small neat workshop with pebble-glass windows.  There was a sturdy strap-hung workbench, a hand-operated printing press, a large magnifying glass on an adjustable stand and rows of shelves crammed with boxes, pots and bottles.  A couple of inner of doors led off to other rooms. 

The hulking forms of the two thugs who had held them captive were standing before them.  As always hood masks concealed their faces.  Beside them was a smaller man with a black cloth mask covering the upper half of his face, through the eyeholes of which shone sharp blue eyes.

‘There we are, Charlie,’ the first thug said proudly. ‘A pair of prime maids.  Real hot cunnies.’

‘Worth a pretty penny on the block,’ his companion added.

‘All right lads,’ Charlie said.  ‘Let me look them over first…’

He assessed April and Niki with practiced hands and eyes.  Their breasts were lifted and pussies probed.   He examined their brands carefully, muttering as he did so: ‘Yes, I can do something with these…’ Then he squeezed and pinched the muscles of their buttocks, thighs and calves to test their strength.  They might have been horses being appraised for sale.  In Nethervale the process was much the same. 

‘I’ll give you seven and six each for them,’ Charlie said at last.

April shivered.  It was quite a lot of money by local standards, but still it was the price of their bodies and all rights to them.

‘They’ll fetch ten bob on the block easy, maybe more!’ the first thug protested.

‘Seven and six,’ Charlie repeated firmly.  ‘Which I’ll wager is seven and six more than they cost you.  Who’s got to provide the paperwork to make them legal?  Who has to fix their brands?  I’ve got to turn a profit.  Take it or leave it, lads.’

After much grumbling the pair agreed and coins changed hands.   Without a backward glance the thugs went outside.  In a minute April heard the cart drive off.

Meanwhile their new owner took a lash from a hook and held it up for them to see.  ‘I don’t want to mark you but I will if I have to.  Now, are you going to give me any trouble?’

They shook their heads.

‘Good girls.’ 

He untied their gags and then selected a small brown bottle from a shelf. Unscrewing the lid that held the rubber bulb of an eyedropper he drew up some of the yellowish fluid from the bottle. 

‘Open your mouths and put your tongues out,’ he commanded.

They obeyed.  Carefully he applied three drops of fluid to their waiting tongues.   


April felt the fluid burning on her tongue, making her eyes water, and she gulped down saliva as she swallowed.  For a moment her throat burned as well, then it seemed to go icy cold, making her gasp.  The intake of breath seemed to chill her lungs.  Slowly the cold became a spreading unnatural numbness below the base of her tongue.  In a panic she tried to voice her alarm but no words came, only a rasp of breath.  By her side Niki was making feeble incoherent croaks.  It was as if their vocal chords had been paralysed.   

Charlie held out the bottle for them to see.  The label read: JYMPSON’S FINEST BONDMAID MUTING MIXTURE.  And in smaller writing: Apply three drops twice a day.

‘This is the latest thing,’ he said.  ‘Everyone’s using it.  Keeps girls quiet without gags.  Worth every penny I say.’ 

April and Niki looked at each other with frightened eyes.  They had become used to gags but this was something new and an even more intimate restriction on their freedom.  Niki opened her mouth and strained to shape words but all that came out were ragged rasps.  She shook her head miserably as her eyes filled with tears of frustration.

Charlie chucked at their efforts.  ‘You better get used to it.  I should think nine out of ten bondmaids in Flauntwell are being fed the stuff by now.’ 

April stopped fighting to speak and hung her head mutely.  It seemed that Jympson’s had finally established control over the last orifice of their bodies.  They had Jympson’s grease up their bottoms to ease anal intercourse, Jympson’s depilating cream on their pussies to keep them smooth and hairless and now Jympson’s drops in their mouths to rob them of speech and render them true dumb animals.  But then in Nethervale bondmaids always had been regarded as little better than female animals that could talk.  Now even that ability was being denied them.   

Briskly Charlie went about his work with the sureness of long practice.  As he did so he chatted to them in a not unkindly way, as one might talk to pets, without expecting any answer but knowing he had their undivided attention.

‘Let’s get you into proper harness,’ he said, selecting two sets of worn but serviceable leather collars and cuffs from a box.  He cut the ropes from their wrists and replaced them with locking cuffs.  Unhooking them one at a time from the ceiling chains he replaced the loops about their necks with real collars, clicking his tongue in disapproval as he did so.  ‘Cheap hemp!  Look at the marks its left…  those two are idiots… that could lower your block price.’  He applied some soothing cream to the chaff marks.

Leaving Niki hooked up he took April over to the bench, bent her forward across it and fastened her in place, immobilising her hips with broad straps across her waist and about the tops of her thighs, which were held spread and pulled tight against the side of the bench.  Her breasts flattened against the rough wood of the bench top.

Charlie pushed a thick rubber bit between her teeth.  ‘The muting drops don’t stop you biting and we don’t want you damaging yourself, so we?’

He took a tray down from a shelf.  By twisting her head round April glimpsed its contents as it was set down beside her.  There was an array of small bottles, lint pads, several fine brushes and a glittering selection of fine needles and rasps of different sizes.

Charlie seated himself on a high stool between April’s legs, swung the pivoting magnifying glass over her haunches and minutely examined her scar brand.

‘Yes… should be no trouble there…’ he muttered.   He opened one of the bottles and dipped a needle-tipped tool into it.  ‘This’ll hurt a bit…’

April screeched and whimpered, straining against her straps, her eyes filling with tears.  It felt like he was burning her brand with acid.   But there was no escape.  All she could do was endure. 

For fifteen minutes he worked on her with his tools and fluids and she shuddered and moaned as she felt her soft flesh pricked, abraded, stained and remodelled.   Stimulated by the pain and her posture her sex engorged and grew moist, aching to be used.   It was an instinctive reaction by now and she was quite helpless to stop it. 

When Charlie was done he stood between her splayed legs and fingered her sopping cleft.  ‘You’re a needy slut and no mistake.  I think I’ll do well out of you…’

He unbuttoned his flies and slid his hard shaft into her.  There was no preamble or foreplay.  None were needed.  She was ready for penetration and he was her de-facto master using her for his pleasure.  That was what a bondmaid expected.

April gasped and groaned as he used her, the lingering stinging throb in her altered brand melting away.  The feel of a cock inside her was natural and calming, the normal sequel to punishment, almost like a reward.  It was virtually the only kind a bondmaid knew.   She felt a sudden wash of helpless gratitude to her master, even though he had been the cause of her suffering.  Bondmaids were so pitifully easy to please…

When he was done Charlie pulled out and buttoned up, checked his handiwork was still sound, then freed April from the bench and hooked her up on the ceiling chain again.  Unhooking Niki he strapped her down across the bench in April’s place.   

April watched while Charlie worked on Niki’s brand, making her whimper in pain in the process.  She hated to see her lover in distress and yet she could not look away.  Slavish suffering was darkly fascinating, and watching Niki’s lovely body bound and helpless being so meticulously tormented filled April with desperate desire.

She was also able to see what Charlie was doing to their brands.  The tail of the “R” was bleached out in some way and blended into a new tinted scar loop that curved back into the upright to form a “B”.   The skin within the circle was then lightly roughened to hide the change.   

If there were a description of them as stolen property circulating in Flauntwell, then it would inevitably mention their brands.  Now they had been changed, like stolen cars having false number plates fitted.

When Charlie was done he found Niki was as aroused as April had been and took his pleasure in the same way.  Niki’s protests turned to little grunts of helpless joy.  April watched his cock pumping in and out of her lover’s sex with jealous longing.

Once he had spent for the second time, Charlie freed Niki from the bench and secured Niki beside April once more.  Taking a pair of custom-made leather and metal chastity belts from a hook he locked them about their waists.  Perforated metal cups with narrow tooth-edged slots closed over their pussy mounds.  These linked to metal rings that encircled their anal mouths, held in place by the straps that ran up between their buttocks to the belts.  They could still pass their wastes but no longer touch themselves or rub their sexes against anything.

‘No spending for you two until the auction,’ he told them.  ‘I want to see you dripping to please.  The more eager you are in the pens the better price you’ll fetch on the block.’

Unhooking them he led them through one of the side doors to a small room with a high barred window, in which stood half a dozen bondmaid cages.  Three were empty and three had curtains drawn across them.  From behind them April heard the sudden stir of bodies shifting within the confined spaces.  Evidently they were not the only bondmaids Charlie was handling.  How big was the black-market in bondmaid flesh she wondered?

The doors of the empty cages were small and low, forcing a girl to enter or leave on her hands and knees.  They had barred roofs but solid wooden boards partitioned the cages from each other.  Each cell was floored with a straw-stuffed palliasse.  A water bottle hung on the bars and there was a bucket for wastes with the luxury of a sheaf of cut newspaper sheets hung by it.

Charlie pushed April and Niki into adjacent cages and locked the doors.  ‘Cuffs,’ he said and they pushed their cuffed hands against the bars for him to unlock them.  ‘I’ll bring you some feed later.’  He pulled the curtains across the front of the cells and April heard him leave the room.  Now all she could see was the ceiling.

April pressed against the partition that divided her from Niki.  On the other side she heard Niki do the same.  She tried to say: ‘I love you…’ but all that came out were feeble squeaks and distorted throaty grunts.  She heard Niki struggling to reply, but the results were so futile and depressing they soon gave up trying to form words.  April tried to combine all she felt and would like to say in one plaintive whimper and Niki responded in kind.

They had been reduced to communicating at the level of animal sounds, which was the most that was usually required or permitted of bondmaids anyway.  Presumably if a master wanted them to be able to speak he only had to wait for the drug to wear off.  But it was different to simply being gagged.  Their very bodies had been altered from within. 

At least we’re still together, she thought, but I wish we could touch.  After a while she thought she heard Niki crying softly.



From: “The Bondmaid’s Return”


By good luck and the kindness of their Master and Mistress, April and Niki have returned from Nethervale to their own version of England.  But they have not escaped sexual slavery, and they are captured by the same wild band of quad-bikers who first drove them into the other world.  They join a caged collection of naked girls the men call “bunnies…”


A couple of hours later Pyramus and Moonshine appeared through the trees.  April saw they both now had short coiled whips and cattle prods slung from their belts.

‘Time for your exercise, bunnies,’ Pyramus said, rasping the prongs of his rods across the mesh sides of the hutch.  ‘If you’re good you can feed afterwards.’

The double gates of the porch only allowed one girl at a time to crawl out, which was obviously the idea.  As they did so the bikers locked the yoke bars back onto their collars, cuffed their wrists and clipped leash chains to their throat rings.  The leashes were clipped to the rear collar rings of the girl in front and so they were formed up into a coffle.   

When they were all linked together they were led through the trees to a second small clearing.  Here a stout post had been hammered into the ground leaving its top at about head height.  A bicycle wheel mounted on a vertical axel capped the post.  From the rim of this dangled fourteen lengths of chain.  Pyramus and Moonshine arranged the girls in a ring about the post, clipping the collar of the last girl in line to that of the first.  Then they clipped the chains from the wheel to the rings in the backs of their collars.  Now they were tethered in a ring both to each other and the post, with a little slack chain between each of them.

Pyramus unhitched his whip and cracked it mid-air over the heads.  They all flinched and a few whimpered in fear.

‘Now you start running,’ he told them.  ‘And lift those knees.  I want to see those tits bouncing.  You keep going until I tell you to stop.’

With a jerk and jingle of chains they started off circling the post.  There were a few stumbles as the girls tried to find the right pace.  They had to match the steps of the girl ahead of them and keep a steady distance from the post.  April found that it was best to keep the chain linking her yoke to the rotating bike wheel as taut as possible and let that keep her in position.   Then she only had to watch the rolling, bouncing bottom of the girl in front of her, with its bobbing rabbit-tail crown.    

And so they went round and round.  Pyramus and Moonshine stood on opposite sides of the circle.  Any girl seen slacking received a flick of the whip across her bottom.

Knees were lifted like show-ponies prancing proudly.  These high steps did indeed set their breasts jiggling and bouncing.   They were being taught how to perform and display themselves like animals.  

After fifteen minutes of this their chests were heaving and they were lathered in sweat.  Pyramus allowed them to take a break.  Moonshine went round the circle with a water bottle and they drank from it gratefully.  He grinned and flicked nipples swollen with effort that had dewdrops of sweat hanging from their tips.   

‘We want you to make an entrance tomorrow so now you’re going to practice moving like proper bunnies,’ Pyramus said. 

From a bag he’d brought with him he produced fourteen sets of broad padded cuffs linked by short chains.  He went round the circle of girls using these to hobble their ankles.  April found the chains held her feet no more than a handbreadth apart.

Meanwhile Moonshine followed him round, hinging their yoke arms forward, bringing their cuffed wrists about as close together as their feet.  This held their arms crooked in front of them with their bunny paws bent forward over the cuffs.

‘Now, bunnies,’ Pyramus said, cracking his whip again to get their attention.  ‘Let’s see you start hopping!  Go slow to start and keep in step.’

And so they began a second and far more ungainly circuit of the post.  Breasts tossed and heaved and cottontails bobbed wildly as they hopped along.  The neck chains jerked against anybody failing to keep in time with the hopping of the group.  With their arms locked and ankles hobbled they had been degradingly reduced to a parody of rabbit movement.  Their fake ears only added to the spectacle, wagging about as their heads rose and fell. 

The men’s whips cracked across their backs as they were driven on.  As she blinked the sweat from her eyes April heard pain and shame mingled in the sobs and snivels of the other girls as they bounded round and round.  They knew that they were being turned into animals by their keepers for the amusement of others, and they knew also knew there was nothing they could do to stop it.


Twenty minutes later, aching and exhausted from bouncing, they were unfastened from the post.  In a coffle they were made to rabbit hop through the trees to the biker’s camouflage enclosure.

As they approached April could smell cooking and suddenly she realised how hungry she was.  Within the fence she saw a very large double-handled covered stainless-steel cooking pot resting on an upturned crate.  Beside it a long low metal feed trough had been set out on the grass in the middle of the enclosure.

Their hobbles were removed and Wall and Lion put them through the shower.  The girls squealed as the men soaped their groins with rough hands and then flushed them clean.   April squealed and squirmed with the rest, though secretly she was grateful they were taking the effort to keep them clean.  Then their yoke arms were rotated back behind them until the girls were gasping at the twisting of their shoulders and their cuffs were pulled together. 

The girls were arranged about the feed trough seven on each side.  Moonshine opened up the pot and began pouring and scraping out a thick meat and vegetable stew into the trough.    

To April and Niki this process was quite normal.  It was a simple means to feed a number of girls at the same time.  But the others looked on it with horror and revulsion.   Of course it was degrading to be fed like this but then they were slave girls and part of their masters’ pleasure came from humiliating them. 

Megan turned her head aside in disgust, screwing up her eyes.  Pyramus jabbed his cattle prod into her bottom making her yelp. 

‘You eat, like a hungry bunny or else.’

April glanced sideways at Niki.  They dipped their heads and began eating as neatly as was possible without hands.  It was good stew.

‘That’s right, you do it like they do,’ Pyramus said.  ‘They know how to be good bunnies.’

With their faces pictures of acute misery, the other girls reluctantly dipped their heads into the trough.   The bikers walked round the trough looking down at them and grinning.

‘Good,’ Pyramus said.  ‘You keep those tails up until that trough is licked clean.’

April tried to recall the original shame she had felt being made to eat like this and savoured the sick thrill it gave her.  It was not simply eating like an animal with the use of her hands, it was having to do so with legs spread and bottom stuck out and up for balance.  A girl could not do that without showing off her pussy cleft and anus to her master.  With bunny ears and tails they must look even more degraded.   She was also conscious of her naked breasts hanging under her swaying and exposed like udders.  Glancing about she saw from the red cheeks of the other girls and the barely suppressed tears that they were acutely aware of their unwilling display.

Eve was kneeling almost opposite April on the other side of the trough.   Her glossy rounded breasts were rubbing against the sides as she bent over and her mouth and cheeks were smeared with stew.  April saw her chase a lump of potato with tongue and teeth and finally gulp it down with an expression of triumph.  Then she saw April looking at her and smiled and blushed in embarrassment.  

When the trough had literally been licked clean to Pyramus’ satisfaction, he grinned down at their dirty, woebegone faces and said: ‘Now, as you’ve been such good bunnies you can have some strawberries and cream for dessert.  But you’ll have to bob for them.   Heads down…’

Moonshine had a bowl of fat red strawberries in thick cream ready.  He went along the line of them and pushed one each into the mouths of their vaginas.

The girls whimpered and moaned as they felt the soft fruits dripping with cream being pushed into their most intimate orifices, but the threat of the whips and electric prods kept them in place.  Soon all their lovelips gaped with strawberry tongues peeping out from between them and trickles of cream ran over pubic fuzz and down their inner thighs.

‘Now you bunnies on this side keep your heads down while your sister bunnies are going to come round and take the berries from your pussy holes.  And I want to see you eat them all up and lick the bowls clean.  Move!’

Heads hanging in shame and misery, the girls opposite shuffled round the trough and took up positions one behind each of them.  April found Eve behind her. 

Pyramus’ whip cracked.  ‘Do it!’

April felt Eve’s tongue hesitantly probing her cleft.  She would have tried to squeeze the fruit out for her but that would only have pulped it.

‘I want to see those tongues going in deep!’

April felt Eve nuzzle into her, tongue curling and lapping.  It really was the nicest sensation, but she hung her head and snivelled for effect.  The bikers stood over the double row of girls grinning at their misery.

April felt the strawberry pop out of her.  She twisted round to see Eve, red faced with shame and wonder at what she had just done and her nose smudged with cream, chewing and gulping it down.

Moonshine jabbed Eve with his prod.  ‘Now lick her clean,’ he commanded.  Biting her lip, Eve put her tongue to April’s red and white vulva and began to lick.

When the last strawberry had been extracted and pussy cleaned the girls reversed positions.  April made sure she was behind Eve as she bent down and offered up the fruit in her loins.   She had a nicely rounded bottom, even if it was trembling slightly, and a fine pouting vulva.  With sobs and whimpers of shame seven tongues were slipped into seven clefts.  April sucked out the warm strawberry from its fleshy nest easily enough but made a show of reluctance as she licked Eve clean.  The girl had added a nice flavour of her own to the strawberry and cream that was oozing out of her.  

Suddenly there was a retching sound.  April saw Kat spitting out the strawberry she had just sucked out of the cream-rimmed pussy of Dawn who was bending over in front of her.

‘It’s filthy, I can’t!’ Kat sobbed.

Pyramus strode over and stabbed Kat with his cattle prod.  ‘It doesn’t matter if you think it’s filthy, bunny, you eat it down!’

Kat shrieked and fell on her side, kicking and writhing in pain as he jabbed her breasts and buttocks and up into her pale pubic pouch with its slim wisp of dark hair.  Only when she was reduced to a trembling heap did he relent.

Moonshine put another cream-dipped strawberry into Dawn’s vagina.

Pyramus pulled Kat back onto her knees by the hair.  Her eyes were red and cheeks tear-streaked.  He pushed her face into Dawn’s groin, rubbing Kat’s nose up and down her bottom cleft.

‘Get your tongue up her cunt and suck it out,’ he commanded.

Sobbing and shivering Kat obeyed. 

The others who had still not yet extracted their strawberries from the warm pussies before them redoubled their efforts.  One by one they sucked them out and gulped them down, then they fell to licking clean the dainty bowls of pubic flesh.  Only when there was no trace of cream left on the hair or lips of any vulva were they allowed to sit back on their heels.  They looked up at Pyramus with renewed fear and terrified respect.

‘You’d better get used to the taste of pussy,’ Pyramus warned them.  ‘There’ll be plenty more of that before this week’s over.’