Brethren, life in bondage. Book eight. (Brethren life in bondage 8)
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Brethren, life in bondage. Book eight. (Brethren life in bondage 8)
Old school bondage meets with high Tech fetish, in this, the eighth book 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 eight 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
Inside the cell an older looking nun stood arms crossed, a large bunch of keys hanging from a belt around her waist. As James and Sister Gloria entered she looked up briefly to acknowledge them, then returned to watching the disturbing drama that was unfolding on the floor of the cell in front of her. A petite nurse dressed in a pristine White uniform and rubber apron knelt on the floor beside a cruelly bound patient. The nurse held a plastic bowl beneath the unfortunate woman's chin spooning what appeared to be fodder into her trembling open mouth. The patients head was shaved with the number 67 burnt onto her forehead. James was astounded, her head was in fact the only part of her body visible as it protruded from the top of a large canvas bag.
Wreathed with leather straps James could just make out the merest of red strips which gave away the bags rubber lining. The woman's body was reduced to little more than an outline in the unforgiving all enclosing canvas. James guessed that she must be bound seated, her wrists secured to bound ankles, knees forced against her chest. Her position would have made activating the vibe in her ass unavoidable. The woman looked around at those gathered with red rimmed eyes, dark circles giving them a hollow haunted look. "I see 67 has decided to cooperate Sister Georgia, does this mean she's ready to join the others in the day room?", smiled Sister Gloria in an overly bright manner. 67 looked up to the older nun her face eager with anticipation but the nun just sneered wrinkling her nose, "what do you reckon 67? Are you going to be a good girl or do we put your hood back on?" She held up a hood identical to the one worn by the patient in the previous cell, it's only features two small nostril holes and a length of lacing holes down it's back. At the sight of the hood 67 found her voice, "please Sister no! It's so hot in here, my body aches so much, my hands have gone numb. The hood will kill me, no, please, please". The woman struggled within the enclosing bag, her neck craning against the collar locking it in place around her throat.
James could just make out the shape of her limbs as they strained against the bags almost rigid, taut surface. "Calm down!†Barked Sister Georgia, "you wouldn't want another week like this would you?", 67 began to cry in earnest, shaking violently, causing the nurse to smear food across her chin. The nurse patiently wiped the food from the hysterical woman's face and turned to Sister Georgia, "I think maybe the straps are coming loose? Perhaps another few hours with them properly adjusted would prove whether the treatment has really been effective?" Sister Georgia nodded, throwing the hood over to the nurse.