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Princess Shawn

Princess Shawn

TMF Poster
Joined
Jun 13, 2015
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Maybe I'm the only one here right now, standing in a post-apocalyptic wasteland once populated by bondage lovers, now abandoned and left to grow tumbleweeds. Maybe I'm only posting in this part of the site because I'm a little drunk and will later regret what I wrote here, but there is a damsel in me just waiting to be in distress. And no, I ain't talking about S&M with all the black leather and whips. I'm all about the old school, mustache twirling villains tying ladies to railway tracks, evil knights kidnapping princesses for a forced wedding, or just a simple abduction for ransom.

There is something very appealing about being the prize that guys are fighting to obtain. Oh well, I'll just explore this here abandoned bondage wasteland and look for signs of life. Every thread is an empty building, its contents telling the story of its former occupants and not all of it turns me on.
 
Fortunately, I do have a vehicle for getting out of this place if I run into trouble. I call it the Back button.

But I shall not leave just yet. To show any hidden inhabitants that I'm harmless, I am wearing the least threatening (and most damselicious) outfit I have: a princess' gown, bright pink and ground length with puffy shoulders. Of course, a pair of slippers to protect my feet from what may possibly be radioactive soil. There is not a single weapon in my hands, for that will make me look hostile. The only thing I'm carrying is a bag for picking up supplies and souvenirs.

I stop outside the first and largest building I see: The Totally Awesome Gagged Bondage Thread. Right next to it is another building, Bastinado!. Well, I'm not a fan of letting my royal feet be tortured so I'm gonna check out the Totally Awesome building.

(PS: Feel free to join in. Eventually I'll be sober and start wondering what the hell I just wrote, and then I will decide if this is interesting enough to continue.)
 
"Hello? Anybody here?"

No response. I find myself walking into what appears to be a gallery of some kind. Rows and rows of picture frames fill the walls, but most of them are empty. A shame really, as whoever went through all this trouble to set up an entire photo gallery must have had an abundance of good stuff to share. The furniture and trash lying around indicates that the building also received lots of visitors during its heyday; in fact, I can safely assume that it was quite the party zone at one time. I can even see empty wine bottles, glasses and balloons alongside used tissues.

The signs below each frame tell me that this building was dedicated to the beauty of the gag... dang it, I wish I brought something to silence myself with so that I won't be disrespecting the memory of this formerly lively site. Maybe the inhabitants stored some leftovers in another room. A roll of tape, perhaps, or a ball gag or someone's old bandanna. And so I walk deeper into the Totally Awesome building, past the massive gallery and toward the darker corridors.

Does a clubhouse for gag lovers have any secrets? I'm fixing to find out.
 
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Well, good news for me. I stumble upon what I believe to be the last set of photos that have not been removed, as well as a poster that says Trampling LIVE at our party!. As fascinating as it sounds to be trampled until my mind explodes like I lost two rounds in Mortal Kombat, it doesn't sound as interesting as the second poster I find that says Bastinado, Falaka, and BDSM LIVE! Hmmm, will I be turned on more by hurting people with my feet or letting people hurt my feet?

In the distance, I hear a ghostly whisper, "How dare you mock my party."

"Sorry. Sorry. I didn't mean to offend anyone. I'm sure the events you advertised turned out wonderfully, no one really got hurt and I can't hold an equally successful party if my life depends on it. I'll be moving along now." I curtsey in the direction of the voice and continue my search for a gag, preferably without getting too close to where that voice came from. I'm a city girl and the supernatural has no place in my life, but that doesn't mean I can insult the spirits whenever I want... speaking of which, are there more ghosts here or is there a more scientific explanation, such as a computer that plays the voices of the former occupants to scare thieves away?
 
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I reach a door with a sign taped on it that simply says Spanking!. After putting my ear to the door and making sure no one is hiding in the room with a paddle, I open it. The lights no longer work, but fortunately I have a flashlight in my bag and shine it along the darkened walls. Nope, nothing at all.

"This is the spanking room, ain't it? If there are any ghosts here," I say to the empty space around me, "Reveal your presence by spanking me. Come on, don't be shy. Oh, my safe word is 'teacup'."

I anticipate the sting of a slap on my butt, or at least a weak one that fails to cause any pain when my body is so well covered by the long princess dress. Nothing happens for a while except the rush of a cool breeze through the windows, its howls resembling more disembodied voices. Frustrated, creeped out and a little bored by the lack of responses, I snap at the same empty space, "If it's a bare bottom you want, ain't no way I'm lifting my dress to expose my rear end."

Then the door slams shut by itself, followed by a loud, hard smack on my tushie that makes me exclaim, "Oh!"
 
That scares me. I run over to the door and try to open it but it won't move. Okay, so the place is haunted by the people who used to hang out here... no, there is something near the door. Some kind of mechanical arm that closed the door and holds it shut. This place has a security system, I think, and it has detected an intruder. Or maybe the system is not running and the building is indeed haunted by spirits just waiting to push around anyone who is neither gagged nor tied.

I search the room with my flashlight and find a hole in the wall at the furthest corner. A secret passage left open by its last user, the large poster that used to hide it lying on the floor nearby. Since the door is still stuck, this is my only exit but what I find in the next room made me gasp.

Don't get me wrong, it is a gasp from being pleasantly surprised. A huge banner on the wall only has four letters: Cfnm. A computer sits on a desk, its monitor somehow still running even though I was convinced earlier that the building had no electricity, and on the monitor is a lot of text telling a story. I sit down on the heavy cushioned armchair in front of it and start reading it from the beginning.
 
(Btw, I'm 100% sober now. I found this inactive board that used to be about something I love and I'm just goofing around. If anyone has any comments, let's hear them. If anyone thinks this damsel needs to stop her little adventure because this isn't the place for it, let me know. If y'all think doing this is fine but just not naughty enough to belong here, let me know too.)
 
By all means, I'm rooting for the villai-I mean, er you. Yeah. Wouldn't want to see anything bad happen to the damsel. >.>
 
Wow. And I thought you folks will be mighty pissed at me for having a chuckle at the trampling and bastinado party ads. I was pretty much already sober back then but I meant no disrespect, of course.
Incidentally, I played the Fallout games but haven't seen Mad Max. The post apocalyptic setting, especially Fallout's version, is so ripe for weird stuff that you can have thousands of people believing they are Romans and a vault populated by guys named Gary, Gary, Gary, Gary, Gary, Gary and a bunch of others whose names I forgot.
 
Now this is a souvenir worth saving, just too bad I don't have a thumb drive to transfer the contents of this computer. Normally I'm submissive but this story makes me want to be rough with the nearest boy. If the story's writer is in the room right now, I will kiss him, then shove my flashlight up his butt hole as punishment for not finishing his awesome story.

Suddenly, I hear a clank and feel something tightening around my wrists and ankles. A set of manacles have emerged from the chair's armrests and front legs, pinning me down. Another metal strip wraps itself below my breasts and holds my back against the chair. I let out another gasp, this time not a pleasant one. What trickery is this?

Next comes a beeping sound as something rises up from behind the monitor. It is too dark to see what it is but I can spot a circular lens with a red light. A robotic voice comes from it, "Unidentified user detected. State your name."

"Princess Shawn."

"User ID not found. Please lean closer to the lens for retinal scan." it says. I lean as far as I can, unable to see what is around the device. My eyes are focused on the lens as I try talking to whoever is operating it, "There must be some mistake. I'm not here to steal anything or insult anyone. I'm just exploring. Just let me go and..." A wide object below the lens shoots out, smacking me right in the mouth with so much force that my upper body is shoved back into the chair.
 
It is not a hard object that hit me, and therefore it did not hurt at all. I watch the robotic arm withdraw from my face. "Registration incomplete." the voice continues in the same tone, "Please state your name again."

"Mmmmrrpph." I am struck by the realization that my mouth has been sealed by a massive strip of tape. Was the machine programmed to do that by some bondage fan? With no one else around, how do I get it to release me?

"Please state your name again."

"MMMMMFFPH!"

A whirring sound is heard from the chair while the lens retreats back to the rear of the monitor. "Name recognition error. Loading last user directive... The intruder shall not be harmed. You will be entertained until adminstrators arrive." What happens next makes me jump as I feel a long, snake-like object brushing against my leg. It comes from under the chair, I think, and is slowly moving up my dress until the round tip pokes the thin material of my panties. If this object is relevant to the Cfnm story, it can only be a probe designed to invade male anuses, yet its movements suggest an AI clever enough to locate another opening with sweeter rewards.
 
As if possessing a life of its own, the metallic tentacle makes its way around my panties, doing some exploration. I struggle and tug at the manacles, only managing to shake the chair without moving away from that creepy tentacle, snake or whatever it is. Looking up at the monitor again, I see a small note taped to its corner: "Password: cfnmisawesome". Maybe it is the password to override whatever the system is doing now, but where can I enter it? There must be instructions lying around somewhere.

Oh darn it, the tentacle is sliding inside me! I shut my eyes and shriek, "MMMUUUUMMPH!" Although I cannot see it through my dress, I can feel its ribbed surface rubbing against the walls between my legs.

Then it begins ramming at unpredictable random speeds, slowly in one moment and suddenly becoming fast and forceful before returning to a gentle pace. With each thrust, I squeal louder, "UUUMPH! UUUMPH! UUUMPH!"
 
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Must... get... outta here! Gosh darnit, I'm caught in a fucking machine and it's fixing to drive me crazy!

I left my flashlight on the table when I sat down. Stretching out my fingers, I manage to knock it over. The light falls upon another note taped on the desk: "For emergency override, press CTRL+ALT+DEL. If no keyboard is installed, click on the Override icon on the desktop" Well, I can't press CTRL+ALT+DEL when both of my hands are held down so tightly. I nudge the mouse with my fingertips until the cursor reaches the icon and click on it.

Success! Looks like that activated something. The same robotic voice is heard, "Emergency override activated. Please enter the password." A window pops up on the monitor that allows me to type in the password, with a button below the text box that says, "If no keyboard is installed, click here." Since I can't type, I click on the button.
 
A small microphone appears along with a new message on the screen, "Say the password."

Oh for the love of Lorelei! "Mmmmph!" I scream into the microphone, "MMMMMPH!"

"Incorrect password. Please speak clearly. Attempt 1 of 3."

"MMMFFMMMPHGH!"

"Incorrect password. Please speak clearly. Attempt 2 of 3."

Can't reach the tape with my hands. Breathing deeply, I try saying the password through the gag again, "Mmmm mmmff mmmggh mmmmph."

"Incorrect password. That was your third and final attempt. You will be unable to perform the emergency override without an administrator for 12 hours." The message disappears and the monitor returns to the Cfnm screen. Meanwhile, the tentacle never stops ramming me, getting itself drenched by now. I sit there staring at the monitor, refusing to stay for another 12 hours so that I can try the password again. The question is, should I think of a new plan quickly or slowly?
 
(Strap yourselves in cuz I'm on a roll today. And hey, what happened to that post on top of this page with the world's longest joke?)

There is not a single clock in sight and wearing a watch would have clashed with my beautiful princess gown. It feels like five to ten minutes but it may have been an hour or more. I can reach the mouse for scrolling down the page but nothing else is on the screen except the Cfnm story. Clicking the Override icon only gives me the reminder that I must wait 12 hours before trying again.

"Mmmm... Mmmm... Mmmm..." That is the only sound in the room. In my mind, I imagine the ghosts secretly watching me, or maybe even the building's occupants observing the intruder via a security camera. I lie my head on the back of the chair and read the Cfnm story to pass the time while considering various ideas. Once in a while, I look up at the ceiling hoping to find cameras, my only chance of escaping now lying in the hands of any living person who knows I'm there, such as a caretaker or security guard.

"Mmmm... Mmmm... Mmmm..." Yes, that is me moaning. Get over it.
 
Surely the secret passage can't be the only entrance to this room. It is dark but I can barely make out the door that should take me back to the corridor outside. I hold on to the chair and start hopping, not an easy feat considering its weight, but it's not like the chair is bolted to the floor. Eventually I reach the door, tired from the hopping and disappointed when I realize that I cannot reach the knob... but maybe I can knock the door down from its old, rusty hinges. Sounds like a long shot but I am out of other options.

Just need to rock the chair sideways and use its tall, metal framed back as a battering ram. The first hit rattled the entire door, the second is louder and has the same effect, and the third... wait, the tentacle is going in hard and fast. I think I will sit back and wait a while before hitting the door again. "Mmmmmmmmm..."

Okay, time to ram it once more. The chair bashes into the door for the third time but it still will not budge. If I ever succeed in smashing through that door, it will take a thousand hits and the tentacle will crumble from rust caused by all that moisture. I need a better plan.
 
After some resting, I hop back to the Spanking room. There are no tools there for breaking the manacles, I know, but the ghost that spanked me may be able to help me out; that is of course assuming that it was a ghost that did it and not the same mechanical arm that closed the door. The ghost responded accordingly when I asked for a spanking, meaning that it can see, hear and interact with me at least on a limited level. I just need to persuade it to open one of the doors for me.

Staring at the empty space the same way I did earlier, I pull at the manacles as if to show whatever is there with me that I am helplessly bound. Then I point at the door and nod slowly while wondering if this particular ghost played Charades.

Nothing happens except the sounds of the wind that vaguely resemble more whispering. I try it again, pointing at myself first, then at the door with my hands mimicking the motion of holding the knob. An icy cold presence appears in front of me and I repeat the same gestures again. Being a ghost, it probably cannot break the manacles but it can at least open the door for me.

Instead, a set of cold fingers start fondling my breasts. "MMMMPH!" I scream furiously at it.
 
(Well, if the boss lady likes it... :cool)

In the middle of having my breasts squeezed by an invisible pervert, I notice the tentacle slowing down. Not as part of its random speed routine, but as the result of growing weaker. Hmmm, is it running out of batteries? A shame really, for between the ghost fondling me and the constantly fucking tentacle, the latter was the preferred playmate.

"MMMPH!" I demand the ghost's attention and point at the door again. "MMMPH!"

Darn it, the ghost will not stop fondling my breasts. Come to think of it, how long has it been since this poor lost soul had contact with a nice pair? When I leave, how long will it be before the next explorer comes in and walks into the same trap? Maybe I should let it have its fun for now and patiently wait for release when it is satisfied. Not long after I reach that decision, however, the unseen fingers leave my breasts and I feel the cold air caressing my feet as if trying and failing to remove my slippers.

Not to tickle me though. It seems like the ghost wants to make me feel something with its cold touch.
 
Is it trying to torture my feet with cold air? The next thing I see is a marking on the dirty floor. The ghost is drawing on the coat of dust with a finger... no, it's writing what I believe is its name: ggt001z.

Don't tell me this is the spirit of the legendary storyteller ggt001z! THE ggt001z, master of a million ways to hurt a girl's bare feet? The torturer of innocent ladies who only wished to spend some time free from footwear? By Harmony, it is sad to see such a brilliant contributor reduced to a restless spirit incapable of inflicting what had entertained himself and so many of his readers when he was alive. Still, the groping is inexcusable.

Below his name, more words appear in the dust: "I want a footjob."

I shake my head. Even if he is a living person, I can't do it with my legs pinned to the chair, not that I want to anyway.

Another set of words is written: "Please give me a footjob."

"NNNN!" I scream at the empty space.
 
The tentacle finally flops down and dangles motionlessly like a man out of stamina, but the ghost of ggt001z continues to communicate by wiping away what he had written and creating new words: "I want to cause pain to your lovely feet." I can only stare in disbelief, unable to complain or leave.

Then I hear scratching from my left. Another line of words has appeared: "Dude, forget this chick. Come to my LIVE bastinado and foot trampling party! The hottest girls in the world are there, every race and every size you can think of, all happy to play out your fantasies. The best part is, you can tell them what you want and they won't ever say no."

ggt001z replies, again by writing in the dust, "Will there be barefoot girls walking on hot floors?"

"The hottest!"

"Holy shit, I'm there!" And with that, the writings cease along with the coldness.

Uh... HELLO?! There's a bound and gagged princess here who needs saving!
 
I must have fallen asleep at some point. A clanking sound wakes me up and I open my eyes, surprised to see that the manacles are open. Rubbing my wrists and ankles, I think about what a relief this is until I notice the three figures in front of me. They are standing still, rigid as statues, with expressionless white faces. Robots, no doubt about it.

Oh no, these aren't ordinary robots. They are Shibari Bots, made in Japan and capable of tying intricate knots using miles of rope while we lazy Americans sit back on our couches. I've heard that we must not anger a group of three or more Shibari Bots by obstructing its current orders, lest they combine to form the fifty foot tall Ultra Shibaritron X.

I tear the tape from my lips, taking in a deep breath as the robots speak, "Identify yourself, intruder."

"Princess Shawn."

"Error. Name not found in the list of residents and administrators."

Getting annoyed now, I spring up from the chair. "Yes yes, I went through the same deal with the computer and I won't stick around to repeat it. I don't even like shibari, that stuff looks awfully uncomfortable. If you will excuse me, I'll be leaving now." I try to move past the three Shibari Bots but they block the doorway.
 
Thankfully, the Shibari Bots are not hostile. "Forgive us, Your Highness, but we will not let you leave yet."

"You don't have to call me that..." I then realize what's going on. This is something I can take advantage of. "Oh, darn right I'm your princess. And your princess orders you to step aside."

"We will take you to the lord of this castle. Only he can authorize your departure."

I give a deep sigh. "Very well. Lead the way and I'll follow you to your boss."

The robots remain standing in front of me. "Two things must be done before we meet him. First, hold up your hands." To avoid facing the wrath of Ultra Shibaritron X, I do as I am told and a pair of cuffs are locked around my wrists. The chain between them is a foot long, providing more freedom than the chair, but it is still not something I will be smiling at. They may be leading me into a trap.

"Now open your mouth." one of them says and I do so. A massive ball of cloth is stuffed into my mouth. I will not resist for now, quietly accepting the cuffs and gag without questions or even a struggle. I step toward the door but strangely, the robots still refuse to move aside.
 
"A princess should not have to walk." The next thing I know, the nearest robot sweeps me off my feet and carries me out of the room. The three Shibari Bots march in a straight line along the corridor, with the one carrying me in the middle of the line. If I jump out of its hands, the other two can easily stop me from running any further. Not that I want to escape so quickly, since I do have a lifting and carrying fetish. Preferably with a muscular guy and not a soulless robot, but whatever.

At this point, introducing myself as Princess Shawn when the robots asked for my name feels like a smart move. Their leader though may be a human and not so easily fooled.

The march suddenly comes to a halt. The Shibari Bot at the front of the line has hit a locked door and the others, maintaining their short distance from one another, freeze instantly. I look at the door, then at the robot carrying me. "Mmmfffgh!" I let them hear an impatient gagged pout.

I read the sign on the locked door: Torture Chamber Fantasies (F/F). Good thing we are not going in there.
 
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