Brethren, life in bondage. Book nine. (Brethren life in bondage 9)
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Brethren, life in bondage. Book nine. (Brethren life in bondage 9)
Old school bondage meets with high Tech fetish, in this, the ninth 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 nine 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.
Excerpts
(1)
Connected to the back edge of each desk by a short chain was a bow shaped vice, made of heavy iron, their bands were connected at each end by wing nutted screws. They were designed to hold and compress and that was exactly what they were doing. Every novice was attached to her desk my the unyielding hand clamps and the brutal grasp of a breast vice. James was astounded, as he reached the head of the hall he looked back upon a sea of bared, captured breasts. Some of the girls skin was marked by the criss crossing lacerations of the sisters canes, others were reddened by the restricted blood flow caused by the vices being over tightening. James felt like a teenager, he found it hard to suppress a giggle of hormonal joy at the sight of the row upon row of woman's breasts. Some of the girls shifted uncomfortably, their bonds undoubtedly causing pain, faces contorted they looked scared, while others stared straight ahead as if in some kind of meditation. Before James had time to fully appreciate the sight before him an ear splitting crack echoed around the room it's harsh, sudden, sound punctuated by a high pitched terrified scream.
(2)
The light outside was fading into evening, causing the shadows cast by the stained glass of the windows to lengthen. Rows of tall white candles added a soft glow, the chapel was eerily still and beautiful. James stood for a couple of moments admiring the elegance of the space before deciding to make his way down the aisle and find a seat. Sister Gloria had said nothing before making her exit and now he was alone. Thoughts of how the prisoners and patients were treated played across his memory and he wasn't sure he was happy being left like this without one of the staff to vouch for his identity. At the very front of the room sat a low alter. Directly behind it an intricately carved throne held court. James steadily realised as he approached that the alter held something quite amazing. As well as the candle sticks adorning it's ends, it supported the body of a cruelly bound woman.
Enclosed in layers of leather and rubber, laying on her side she was bound into a stringent hog tie by a web of straps that criss crossed her body, holding her perfectly rigid. Her feet and ankles were enclosed in the most elegant of black leather ballet boots, every inch of her flesh obscured by a second skin of the thickest black rubber. Her head and throat were framed by a neck corset which rose up and over her scalp obliterating all but tiny holes at her nostrils. It's construction more akin to engineering, a mix of rubber and steel creating a rigid unmoving network that held her head exactingly in place.