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Controlling Christine, Book Two

Product Type:
Paperback
Retail Price:
$16.75
Your Price:
$16.75 $13.75 (You save $3.00)
SKU:
PF4140
Author:
# of Pages:
262
Publish Date:
4/3/2008
Weight:
1.00 LBS
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Calculated at checkout
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Product Description

Controlling Christine, Book Two by JG-Leathers

The lovely submissive Christine has become her master's slave, submitting to a chilling array of restraints, which over time become more elaborate and inescapable. As her story continues, each day becomes increasingly distressing, as the Control Uniform she's forced to wear exerts its influence. Being almost constantly gagged, her pleas for release from her travail go unheard. She works hard at her incredible schooling, encouraged by an electronic Schoolmarm that is hooked to her body restraints with a series of wires and hoses. To her further horror, she's turned into a human cow, that must be regularly milked, even while she's being sexually disciplined by the Control Uniform!

Despite Christine's aversion to much of the stringent discipline forced upon her, she remains deeply in love with her master, and is elated when she learns that they'll be married. She knows, however, that marriage will mean more incredible additions to her restraint ensemble, and there will be no chance or option for escape.

Later in this chilling chronicle of Christine's life, she is taken out for occasional public forays, then, much to her terror she's turned into a nun, compelled to endure and obey involuntary vows of Chastity, Poverty and Obedience in a most terrorizing manner. She's even made to do penance for her supposed sins. She must suffer incredible punishments in enforced silence and mind-boggling bondage; she no longer has any choice.

Although her life appears to be fully-charted as a disciplined submissiev of her husband, there are yet more surprises in store from Sheik Al Marish, who is interested in Christine for himself. When she's shipped to the Middle Eastern potentate's home in a sarcophagus, she's left to wonder what will come of her.

Once again, the masterful JG-Leathers takes the bondage fantasy to the extreme, giving readers a provocative and unforgettable experience of domination and sexual surrender. The darkest of Christine's fantasies come to life, as she suffers an invasive nose piercing, hobbles, collars, gags, milking, electronic punishment and much more!


Excerpt

For a moment I writhed on my rigidly clamped ‘Bar, then slowly settled and stared from within the blinkers at the huge projection TV screen filling my forward view. I couldn’t really look down, but caught the motion of the keyboard when it swung over in front of me, just above waist level, stopping before my stomach. It was partially concealed by the silvery swells of my breast cups and their sprouting hoses and wires, but disconcertingly, at the same time the clamps on the arms behind my legs snapped closed around my ankles, securing my feet and legs, then she spoke again.
“You should be aware by now, young lady, that you are under the control of your Electronic Speech Inhibitor,” she intoned. “Well done indeed, Miss Christine!” she enthused, surprising me. “It has been noted that you have fastened yourself as required. Kindly lean back and remain still for a moment.”
When I did, I felt a subtle click at the back of my collar and immediately tried to jerk away, only to be brought to an immediate, choking stop when the chair leash, now connected to my collar, snapped tight! I struggled to bend forward for a moment, then the cable slowly wound backward. It was remotely controlled too! A moment later my head and neck were inexorably pulled into a formed depression in the head rest once it had tightened fully.
“That’s excellent, my dear!” she seemed to smile evilly, almost chuckling. “Now that we’ve added that little modicum of control, you are to reach around to the sides and seat of your chair and fasten the straps you will find there to the rings of your chastity device. Kindly do so at this time!”
With another tremulous sigh I did as she commanded, then sat there, rigidly erect and fully-restrained but for my hands, waiting for what was to come next. I could only stare helplessly ahead at the huge, dominating TV screens in front and above me, unable to look anywhere else.
“Please connect the Limiter Chains to your wrist cuffs. When you have done so, you are then to reach to the top of the desk and depress the central button located there. You have two minutes to complete these instructions.”
I could feel the chains dangling from the arms of the chair and so resignedly reached down and grasped one, then locked it to my right wrist cuff. A moment later, I’d done the same with the left cuff, then, I pulled at their obdurate links, reassuring myself that I was indeed fastened. When I tried to press the button she had mentioned, I found to my dismay, limiting as my wrist chains were, that I couldn’t get my fingers anywhere near it! I surged against my bondage to the chair, but there was absolutely no way and I began to panic, dreading the horrible things that would inevitably follow for failure to complete my task.
“Now, young lady! Prior to commencing your actual lessons, and as a necessity for them being properly answered, I shall conduct a class in typing. This will bring your current skills, or lack thereof, up to a standard of one hundred and twenty words per minute. Error free I might add! Your abilities will be tested during the first ten minutes of each lesson period, to ensure they are maintained, and we will proceed to the actual topic for the day,” she explained pedantically.
My typing skills were nonexistent, but it appeared that this was soon to be remedied.
“It is my understanding, Miss Christine, that you have only accomplished a ‘hunt and peck’ style of typing, but this will soon be corrected by the concentrated lessons you are about to undergo. On the screen in front of you there will appear a key board, and you are to follow my verbal instructions, in addition to those you see on the screen. The lesson will commence now.”
I attempted to look down at the keyboard partially-hidden below the swell my breasts, pulling forward against my collar and the cable connecting it to the back of the chair, bending my head against the choking restriction, but this only lasted a few seconds before it was snapped back into the padded rest with a quick jerk on its leash.
“Miss Christine!” she admonished, “You are not permitted to look at the keyboard! This is one of the basic tenets of touch typing, and you will be restricted to prevent you from doing so!”
I had to stare straight ahead at the screen! My hands positioned themselves above the keys, feeling the weight and restriction of all the chains dragging on my arms and I knew this wasn’t going to be a lot of fun. On the screen, the lesson began to unfold while the voice of my mentor detailed my duties. At first the pacing was fairly sedate while I was oriented to such arcane topics as ‘the home row’, proper keyboarding, speed, rhythm, and error computation. Posture and seat position I was told, at this point, were not problems, for my current environment had been engineered with those considerations foremost. Hearing these comments, I chewed angrily on my gag-pad, sweating inside the hot, sealed mask and helmet, shaking my head to try and dislodge droplets of water trickling into my eyes. For my trouble I received a threatening shock from my clitoral contact!
“Kindly pay close attention, Miss Christine! No slackness will be permitted!”
The lesson continued and I had no choice but to follow it and complete the practice sessions she dictated, urged to do so by tingling shocks from my Chastity Belt if I didn’t follow through as instructed, or as rapidly as I was supposed to. The lesson seemed to go on forever while I sat fastened, and when I began to lose concentration I was brought quickly back to my predicament with stronger shocks. On the screen I could see the results of my fumbling attempts to type correctly and with each error I made, annoying, hurtful pulses coursed through my crotch, making me try to shift away, but I couldn’t avoid them no matter how I squirmed! After what seemed like a thousand years, the lesson appeared to be drawing to a conclusion.
“Miss Christine, your first performance was of middling accomplishment, and obviously needs improvement. Now, you will be required to complete a short test to measure your comprehension and absorption of the material just covered. I will read a passage and you must then type it. During this test you will, of course, be checked for accuracy and speed. Any errors you make will be totalled and paid for at the end of the test. In the future you will be required to complete tests under much more severe conditions. The test will begin in thirty seconds!”
I shivered with trepidation at her comments, then the face-plate covering my staring eyes, began to darken! I moaned haplessly with fear, a faceless prisoner inside the totally blackened helmet, staring terrified into the black depths once more ...
She began speaking slowly and at first I thought she was just preparing me for what was to come, but that impression disappeared with a series of pulsating shocks from the vaginal and the anal dildos, making me attempt to jerk my hands from the keyboard to my lap. I was frantic to tear at the steel locked over my loins, only to have my hands brought up short by the short chains connecting my wrist cuffs to the desk top. Her voice suddenly cut off then came back on.
“Kindly pay attention Miss Christine!” she snapped while I writhed in frenzied effort against my restraints, uttering gag-stifled screams from the intimate electrical torture. “I will begin again ...”

Artist Credit

YPVS

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