textfiles/sex/EROTICA/M/melrose.txt

MELROSE PLACE: ANOTHER HONEYMOON by Adrian Hunter

	
	Kimberly shook the rice out of her long red hair as Michael closed
the door to their secluded honeymoon suite.  The wedding had been wild, no
doubt about it, and all that champagne was making Kimberly feel more than a
little amorous toward her new husband.
	
	As he hung up his jacket, Kimberly reached behind her back and 
struggled with the zipper of her antique bridal gown.
	
	"Would you be interested in giving me a hand?" she asked
coquettishly.
	
	Michael smiled as she held up her hair to give him better access
to the complicated fasteners.
	
	"Ta da," she announced as the dress fluttered to the floor.
	
	Michael's eyes swam slowly over the dazzling package before him.  
Unbeknownst to anyone, Kimberly had continued the Victorian theme of her 
attire to include an old-fashioned corset underneath her gown. 
Firmly-boned and tightly laced up her back, the restrictive garment molded 
Kimberly's torso into a perfect hourglass while it pushed out her hips, 
bottom and breasts.  Combined with the white gartered stockings, full-length 
gloves, high-heeled button boots and dainty lace panties, Kimberly was a 
luscious vision of 19th-century loveliness sweetened with more than a dash of 
contemporary lust.
	
	"Michael, darling," she cooed.  "I think we're going to need more
ice."
	
	Michael just nodded as he stared at his radiant bride.
	
	"Run along," she said as she pushed him toward the door.  "I have
a surprise for you."
	
	Once he was gone, Kimberly reached in her toilet bag and pulled
out a white satin scarf and a pair of handcuffs.  After carefully placing the
key on the dresser, she blindfolded herself and secured her wrists in front of 
her waist.
	
	Her heart began pounding harder and harder as she waited for
Michael's footsteps and hand on the door.  Kimberly had always resisted his 
requests to play tie-up games, but tonight, she was determined to give him 
what she hoped he wanted most . . . herself.
	
	She smiled when she heard him come into the suite.
	
	"You can do anything you want to me," she said softly.  "I'm
completely at your mercy."
	
	"So you are," Michael finally replied after assessing this
unexpected development.
	
	He took Kimberly by her arms and pushed her back toward one of the
posts of the poster bed in the middle of the room.
	
	Kimberly pretended to resist his advances by running her cuffed
hands up and down his chest and then giving his already-bulging crotch a 
squeeze.
	
	"Oh, a feisty one, eh?  We'll just see about that."     Michael
took off his bow tie and knotted one end to the chain between Kimberly's 
manacles.  He raised her hands over her head, brought them back down behind 
her neck, and secured the other end to the post.
	
	"Hey," Kimberly yelped as she flapped her elbows helplessly.
	
	Michael ignored her complaints as he removed his cumberbund and 
began rolling it into a tube.  When stuffed into Kimberly's mouth and
strapped behind her head, it effectively stifled all further discussion of 
his bride's sudden predicament.
	
	"You know, I was afraid it was going to take a few days to turn
you around," he said as he unbuttoned his suspenders.
	
	Kimberly tried to kick him away, but he held her ankles firm as he
lashed them to the bottom of the bedpost and wrapped the slack up her shins 
and over her knees, pinning her legs to the thick wooden support.
	
	"We don't really need to keep you in the dark," he said, and took
off her blindfold.
	
	Kimberly's eyes grew wide as she watched Michael open a large
black suitcase.  Inside was what looked like enough rope to outfit a yacht, 
plus piles of gleaming PVC, stiff new leather accessories and dull black 
rubber outfits.
	
	Michael rummaged around until he found a pair of heavy clamps on a
long chrome chain.
	
	"Come out, come out, wherever you are," he sang as he reached into
the top of Kimberly's corset and tugged her nipples up until they were 
exposed over the seam.
	
	He attached one clamp to a pink knob, then ran the chain behind
her neck before clipping the other.  The tension caused both nipples to 
stretch and stand straight up like soliders in the presence of a general.
	
	Kimberly moaned loudly through her gag as the plastic tips bit
hard into her tender flesh.  But Michael was oblivious to her plight as he 
busied himself with the contents of his suitcase.
	
	"Gotta take some snapshots for the album," he laughed, clicking
away with a Polaroid as she twisted and turned her face away from the 
flashing camera.
	
	Kimberly strained mightily against her unpleasant bonds, but the 
handcuffs and Michael's tux accessories mocked her efforts to escape.  Her
discomfort was heightened by the metal clips that pulled her nipples
upward and the stiff upper seam of the corset digging painfully into her 
breasts.
	
	Michael seemed ridiculously happy as he laid out Kimberly's next 
confinement on the dresser.  He had never imagined that his new bride
would willfully submit to slavery, but the blindfold and cuffs were all the
proof he needed.
	
	However, he did realize that his wedding-night fantasy might be
radically different from Kimberly's, and she might need a little time to grow
accustomed to her new status.
	
	But that didn't mean he couldn't get started right away on her
training.
	
	"You really surprised me with the handcuffs," he told Kimberly as
he untied her wrists from the bedpost.  "Pleasantly surprised, I might add."
	
	Kimberly mumbled something into the cumberbund gag, but Michael 
ignored her as he unwrapped the suspenders from around her ankles and
legs.
	
	He led her forward to the middle of the honeymoon suite, and
commanded her to stand still with her legs spread apart.
	
	"If you so much as twitch," he warned, "we can do this just as
easily with you hanging upside down."
	
	Kimberly did as she was told, hoping her obedience would hasten
the removal of the clamps from her aching nipples.
	
	Instead, Michael quickly removed his bride's button boots,
stockings, gloves and panties, leaving her naked save the corset.
	
	"That really looks great on you," he remarked as he walked around
her.  "I'll have to remember to have you fitted for a rubber one next week."
	
	Kimberly felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck.  Rubber
corsets?  Next week?  She had presumed tonight was a special occasion.  Was 
Michael planning to keep her tied up for a week?  Or maybe a month?  
Indefinitely?
	
	The noticeable dampness between her legs surprised her.
	
	Michael loosened the corset's lacing, and the garment fell away
from Kimberly's full-figured physique.  Without the corset's support, her 
ample breasts became weights dragging down on her nipples as they strained 
under the pressure of the clamps chained around her neck.
	
	The riding cropped thwacked into his open palm with a report that 
sounded like gunfire.
	
	"I'm going to untie you now," he said softly.  "You will do
exactly what I tell you.  Any delay or refusal will result in swift and 
permanent discipline.  You will not speak unless asked a direct question, and 
then the only permissable answer is "yes, master."  Do you understand?"
	
	"Yes . . . master," Kimberly replied once the cumberbund was
removed from her mouth.
	
	She could barely resist using her unmanacled hands to relieve the
dull ache burning in her groin.  C'mon, he's got to be kidding, she thought 
to herself.
	
	But she wasn't willing to risk finding out for sure.
	
	"Hold up your breasts to me."
	
	Kimberly reached under her globes and grabbed them tenderly.
	
	"Higher."
	
	Her still-sore nipples protested as she pushed upward.
	
	"Do you want me to suck them as hard as I can?"
	
	Lord, no.
	
	"Yes . . . master."
	
	Oh.  Christ.
	
	"Did you just try to push me away?"
	
	"N-n-no . . . I mean, yes, master."
	
	Michael frowned.
	
	"You've deliberately disobeyed me twice."
	
	He sighed, then headed for the suitcase.
	
	Ten minutes and an acre of leather later, Kimberly recognized the 
seriousness of her situation.
	
	She had never seen a arm binder before, but it didn't take long
for her to figure out its purpose once her arms were crushed together.
	
	Almost worse was the discipline helmet Michael was carefully
lacing over her head after first removing the wig that hid her shorn red hair. 
The horrible headpiece was attached to a four-inch posture collar with special
straps that connected to the binder.
	
	Kimberly inhaled the deep leather scent and shuddered.  The
tightly-zippered binder wrenched her shoulders and made her her breasts jut
straight out, while her eyes stared into a sea of black.
	
	"Open your mouth."
	
	She bit down on a wad of leather.
	
	Once her mouth was laced shut, Michael immediately turned his
attention back to her aching nipples.
	
	Then her stomach.
	
	Her inner thighs.
	
	Her groin.
	
	"Spread your legs wider."
	
	Kimberly complied.
	
	Nothing happened.
	
	She relaxed, until the tip of the crop scored a direct hit.
	
	Kimberly instinctively brought her legs together.
	
	"Big mistake," Michael remarked as he went back to the suitcase.
	
	The iron bar had two padded leather cuffs bolted to its ends,
which Michael padlocked around Kimberly's ankles.  A second, shorter bar was
soon between her thighs.
	
	Kimberly felt him attaching something to the end of the binder
where her hands were encased.
	
	"Bend over."
	
	Her arms began rising toward the ceiling as Michael pulled the
chain over the wooden beam and down toward her helmeted head.
	
	"Lift your head up."
	
	She heard the distinctive click of a padlock as the last link was
attached to a ring on top of the helmet.
	
	Kimberly arched her back to compensate for the tension caused by
the weight of her upstretched arms and head, but the spreaders made it
difficult for her to keep balanced.
	
	Much of her trouble became academic when Michael added another 
length of chain between a metal loop under her chin and the middle of the
ankle bar.
	
	Kimberly felt the breeze of the crop just before it landed across
her buttocks.
	
	Red welts soon rose on her legs, back and breasts as well.
	
	"Now it's time for some more training.  Do not move."
	
	Kimberly sucked in a huge gulp of air through her nose when
Michael dropped the weight.  It dangled a foot below the clamped nipple to 
which it was attached, swaying as it twisted and tugged its hapless prey.
	
	A second clamp soon joined its mate, and then a third found its
way between Kimberly's pink folds.
	
	Any movement on her part soon sent the terrible threesome into
action, a problem soon compounded by Michael's skillful deployment of a 
whirring vibrator all over her splayed body.
	
	She resolved to hold herself steady, but  she couldn't control her
shaking when the tip of the dildo connected with the pussy clip.
	
	After what seemed like hours of torment, Kimberly felt a
monsterous spasm of relief crash through her loins.
	
	"I didn't give you permission to come."
	
	At this point, Kimberly didn't really care.
	
	To her surprise, Michael began unlacing her mouth, then removed
the leather wad.
	
	"Do you want to consumate our marriage?"
	
	"Yes, master," she immediately replied.
	
	He didn't bother asking where.  All three were available.
	
	When he had finally satiated himself, he slowly removed Kimberly's
various bonds and torments until she stood before him naked and cowering.
	
	"The amount of freedom you enjoy will be in direct proportion to
the amount of pleasure you bring me," Michael said.  "However, it will be 
impossible for you to forget your true purpose in life."
	
	From the suitcase Michael withdrew a handful of leather straps
with rings on them, and a bag of what appeared to be large thumbtacks.
	
	He kneeled at her feet and wrapped the first strap around her
ankle.
	
	With a shiver, Kimberly realized what the tacks really were.
	
	Rivets.
	
	Michael worked his way up her legs, permanently securing straps
just above her knees and around the fleshiest part of her thighs.  Another 
trip to the suitcase produced a pair of opera pumps with a "T" strap that 
connected the front of the shoe to the strap around her ankle.  Two more 
rivets, and Kimberly was tottering precariously on six-inch heels until her 
husband decided otherwise.
	
	After he cuffed her wrists and elbows, Michael circled her neck
with a stiff posture collar.
	
	"Hold out your arms," he commanded.
	
	He slipped the rubber breast harness over her head and tugged it
into position.  It looked like a bra, but instead of cups, it featured two
holes which were much too small for Kimberly's sizeable bust.  That didn't 
stop Michael from pulling them through so the rubber circled them against her 
ribs, causing them to bulge alarmingly.
	
	"Open your mouth."
	
	The ball tasted awful, but the rubber face harness smelled even
worse as Michael pulled it over the top of her head and stretched it taut 
around her cheeks and chin.
	
	"Lift up your left foot . . . now your right."
	
	Kimberly didn't dare look down, but it didn't take her long to
figure out what she was stepping into.  The black latex panties fit snugly, as 
did the two plugs and the special rubber hook that dug deep into the front of 
her crotch.
	
	"Lie down on your stomach and put your hands behind your back."
	
	The padlocks clicked in an unsettling fast tempo as Michael united
the straps covering her arms and legs.
	
	Kimberly felt her ankles being pulled back, then attached to her
wrists in a very strenuous hogtie.
	
	She felt him attach something to her collar, but didn't dare look
up until she heard him head for the bathroom.
	
	She was chained to the foot of the bed.  Like a pet.
	
	"Good night, my wife."
	
	Michael clicked off the lights in the honeymoon suite and laughed.
	
	"Sleep tight."