Brethren, Life in Bondage, Book twelve. (Brethren life in bondage 12)
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Brethren, Life in Bondage, Book twelve. (Brethren life in bondage 12)
Old school bondage meets with high Tech fetish, in this, the twelfth volume in the Brethren series. With a respectful nod to House of Gord and maybe just a touch of Insex, Fb presents a feast of flesh and fetish, purely for your titillation. Practising submissive and hoarder of all things kinky she knows exactly what buttons to push!
Brethren, book twelve The world has moved on. The stuff of fantasy has become reality but most important of all, there is now absolute truth. Advances in technology mean citizens are no longer able to lie to the law givers. Those dispensing justice can do so without fear of punishing the innocent. Society is no longer prepared to keep or tolerate those who choose to do harm.
And so the Brethren have arisen.
They offer the world another way, a natural justice. They keep the criminals contained and restrained whilst indulging their fetishes and desires. Criminals are presented to the Brethren to live out their days owned and degraded. Within the city's and county's given over to the elite of the Brethren, normality is subjective. Segregated from the rest of society they indulge without prejudice or interference.
Excerpt 1: James lifted the bag of what he recognised as heavy oil up to the hook on the stand and hung it by the plastic loop at its very top. He wasn't sure that the loop would hold as the sheer weight of the bag dragged it down until it looked like it would split. The Governess attached a long clear hose to the bags bottom and then set about lubricating a large inflatable plug. With the plug attached to the hose’s end she held it up before the Duchess’s, tear filled eyes. Even before it was inflated the plug was monstrous, short and wide it promised to create much discomfort and it was clear from the Duchess's face that she understood that all too well. The Governess stroked the Duchess's rubber enclosed head and whispered into her ear, "I warned you darling, screaming is most unladylike and I'll discourage you from doing it whatever way I see fit!†Pulling a large red ball gag from her pocket she held it too the Duchess's lips and smiled, "Be a good girl and open wide or I'll add a little chilli to that oil and make you hang on till midnight!" The duchess opened her mouth slowly, she understood this was no empty threat and given the fact it was not even 6pm yet the prospect didn't appeal. She knew the heavy oil would churn and boil inside her and the less time she had to spend enduring its effects as it filled her lower body the better. Excerpt 2: Standing leaning on the broom handle the chauffeur reminded James of a shepherd watching over his flock but his charges were most definitely human and what they were being subjected too would never be allowed to happen to animals. James became absorbed in trying to unravel exactly which simile fit what he was looking at best. The woman held so implacably in the metal frame was a human being, that was certain but the mass of rubber and bracing that enclosed her, especially the blacked out goggles which hid her crying eyes, gave her a mechanical appearance. It was Almost as if she was steadily becoming one with the machinery and instruments of her torment. Then, just as James began to wonder how much of her was still human, she cried out from behind the gag which filled her mouth and cheeks to bursting. The noise she made was that of an animal in pain, exhausted, every nerve in her body on fire, her swollen breasts darkening as the straps around them dug into her flesh. The noise she made came from the bottom of her soul, it was the noise made by someone who couldn't take any more but knew their suffering was far from over.