Disclaimer: This is a work of amatory fantasy. Any resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidental. If you are under the age of 18, please stop reading here. If you are a bit squeamish about graphic depictions of sex and bondage, please stop reading here. The author takes no responsibility for those who wish to reenact anything written below.

Permission is granted for private use. The author wishes any agencies that wish to publish this work, to please contact him at FESSELN1@aol.com. Or visit his weblog at http://fesselnsfiction.blogspot.com/ . Any comments are gladly accepted and encouraged.

(A Sequel Of Sorts For A New Haunt)

“I’m here,” Brandy bubbled as she came through the old farmhouse door.

God, she had waiting for this all year. Halloween had always been a magical time of year for her, with goblins and graveyards and haunted houses transforming neighborhoods into ghastly haunts. But last Halloween transformed it into something more wondrous than she had possibly dreamed of.

Last Halloween, within the very walls where she was now standing, Brandy was introduced into the world of bondage.

It had been a misunderstanding that had at first terrified Brandy, but after her first orgasm while being bound, she became addicted. It didn’t take her long to get up-to-speed about strapados and frog-ties and safe words. Now leather manacles and rubber ball gags were part of her toy box beneath her bed at home.

This Halloween the blonde dressed herself in a very tight-fitting angel’s costume; resplendent with white fishnet stockings, four-inch heels and a pair of delicate angel wings. The white opera gloves she had bought separately as well as the glittery halo. She was just about as picture perfect as an erotic angel could be.

It was a shame, really, to mess it up with a few bloody stains.

Aside from bondage, the ‘Body Farm’ haunted house had become her other passion. Her boyfriend had dropped her for some other blonde that had milder sexual desires so the bondage club and its fund-raisers had become her refuge outside of work. The club members more than fulfilled her needs and they also provided her with a family of sorts; A wonderfully perverse family who understood her desires and limits.

The members listened to her ideas as she tried to explain how she felt when she first was exploring the old farmhouse last year. It was like one was one of those stupid teens investigating one of the favorite hunting spots of a maniac. And they actually listened to Brandy and took some of ideas and transformed them into a gore-staged reality, including a nightmare of a maze in the cornfield out back.

“God, you look even better than you did last Halloween,” Grant said, his dark eyes grinning as his eyes caressed Brandy’s six-foot frame.

“Thanks, and you look as maniacal as usual,” Brandy smiled.

And Grant did, his well-muscled frame was costumed again in a bloody pair of bib overalls and his plaid shirt sleeves were soaked in red. Grant never really forgave himself for what happened last Halloween until Brandy let him tie her up again in the privacy of her apartment, where she thanked him in more intimate ways for accidently introducing her into this erotic world of ligotage.

“So what do you have planned for me?” Brandy asked lasciviously licking her lips.

“Something very special,” a woman said from behind.

Brandy turned to see Cindy, the brunette she first saw hogtied on the dining room table. She was dressed as a rather slinky, Addams family-like witch.

“Does your husband know where you are?” Brandy grinned and hugged her.

“I think so,” Cindy replied. Her husband was the one that owned the old farmhouse that the club now called home.

“Where is he?” Brandy asked.

“Not really sure, but I am sure he is doing something he thinks is important. So how are you doing?”

“Hanging in there.”

Cindy nodded, “Things usually change for the better, girl-friend. Now let’s go see what my husband and Grant have planned for you to do.”

Brandy followed Cindy and Grant out to the weathered, gothic-looking barn. The October sun was still out, silhouetting the structure, but not for much longer. Sunset was just an hour or so away. The cool air smelled of autumn and harvests. It was going to be a great opening night for the house.

Inside the barn was bathed in red and gold lights and several tattered black curtains sealed off the different parts of the place. An old hay wagon was parked just inside, littered with a few bloodied bodies of would-be trick-or-treaters. A bloody axe and rip-saw lay close by while another fake victim dangled from the rafters, ready to be rendered into hamburger.

Brandy continued to follow the pair through a narrow corridor of curtains to the back of the barn. There, under an old army-surplus tent, were several coffins and a couple of fresh graves dug into the earth. One coffin held a headless teenage corpse. Others were closed. Grant stopped at a stack of the caskets, the top one having its lid open.

“You pulled coffin duty tonight,” Grant smiled, “Lucky you.”

Brandy looked at the plain pinewood box crestfallen, “You mean I get to play a corpse all night?”

“No, it’s much more than that,” Grant smiled.

Then, with the speed of two ravenous jaguars, both Grant and Cindy pounced on Brandy. The blonde let out a scream, but it was quickly muffled by a foam Nerf ball being crammed between her teeth. As Brandy struggled in Grants grip, Cindy quickly cinched Brandy’s wrists in front and tied them tightly together. The brunette repeated the process with the blonde’s ankles, making her unable to really put up any kind of struggle.

“Now, girl-friend, you can make this easy or you can make this hard or you can stop it all right here and I will take your place inside this coffin,” Cindy said, looking into the blonde’s eyes, “Do you want us to stop?”

Brandy paused a moment. She really hadn’t expected to be bound up tonight, even though she was an attractive blonde in the company of bondage aficionados. But it might be fun, being on display while struggling in her bindings.

The blonde shook her head no.

“Are you going to give us any problems getting you into the coffin?”

Brandy smiled around her gag and nodded yes, renewing her struggles even harder than before.

“Thought so,” Cindy said as she went to grab Brandy’s roped ankles, pulling them out from under her.

The blonde girl screamed anew as Grant held the struggling angel underneath her arms and Cindy her legs, lifting Brandy up into the box. As she was plopped in, Brandy noticed several eye-bolts anchored in the casket’s sides. With another coil of rope, the brunette lashed Brandy’s ankles to the foot of the coffin.

After making sure that their captive’s legs were fully pinned, Cindy helped Grant pull Brandy’s wrists up and in back of her head. Quickly Cindy undid another coil of rope and draped it over the back of Brandy’s neck, running both ends under her arm and tying the end off behind her back just beneath her ruffled wings to form a harness of rope. Another sort length of rope lashed Brandy’s wrists to the harness; her hands pinned behind her neck.

Brandy continued to struggle as she became more and more helpless. She was already feeling the tingly warmth of being helpless and she was sure that that sensation would become more pronounced as the haunted house opened and she was on display.

Grant gently pushed her down into the coffin while his brunette cohort tied each of the bucking blonde’s elbows to the eye-bolts at the head of the casket. Again, Cindy made sure that all of her knots would hold before stepping back to enjoy the view.

“My don’t you look yummy, girlfriend,” Cindy smirked, ”Now, I’ll leave you two alone while I find out what I’m supposed to do tonight. I am sure that Grant will take good care of you.”

Bound in her coffin, Brandy really couldn’t see much more than the top of the tent and the dim bulb spotlighting her. She could lift herself up just a tad but she could barely look over the edge where she saw Grant in his bloody overalls preparing something.

Grant turned around and caught Brandy watching him. Brandy saw that he had a roll of duct tape in his hands.

“Comfortable?” Grant asked.

Brandy paused again then nodded. There was some padding on the bottom of the casket and the position wasn’t going to be too stressful on her.

“Good. Now let’s make that gag a little more permanent.”

Grant ripped a swatch of tape off and pressed it over the blonde’s lips, repeating it again with two or three more pieces until her lips were sealed shut.

“Now, the plan is as groups come through, you are going to struggle as I nail the coffin shut as if I was going to bury you alive. There will be other members mixed in some of the groups, disguised as customers, and I will menace them and grab them for one of the other coffins. All the while, you will be struggling to get free, which, of course, you won’t.”

Brandy nodded. It was going to be fun to be part of a haunted house this year.

“Now, let’s get you a little more ready.”

Gently Grant began to massage Brandy’s breasts through the white satin costume, pinching her now erect nipples and sending a hot pulse of pleasure through her. Again, she hadn’t planned on ‘playing’ tonight but she was in no position to argue now. That’s one of the things she loved about bondage, the ability to free herself to enjoy. She knew she could stop him at anytime with humming a song, but why ruin the mood. Soon she found herself moaning as Grant continued his caressing.

His hands worked their magic over her body, touching and rubbing all the right places except for between her legs. Brandy rocked her hips, trying to get him to pay attention there and to let her relieve the pressure building up inside of her.

Finally, Grant’s finger’s pressed down on her sex, rubbing her snatch through the satin. Like all of her costumes in her closet, she had purchased them through an adult store so that there was an ease of getting to certain places. Grant soon found the snaps and peeled back the fabric to bare her pussy.

Brandy moaned louder through her gag as his fingers slipped up and down her already moistened slit, carefully missing her swollen clit. Her hips began to match his rhythm, then he stopped.

The blonde opened her eyes and mewled her displeasure.

“Just a second, Brandy,” Grant said.

Brandy felt Grant working on something beneath the coffin. She struggled up to see when Grant got up with a large gel vibrator, one of those that had a separate vibe that nestled on top of the clit. She also noticed a bare steel button on that part of the device. She watched in fascination as he coated the blue gel vibe generously with KY before holding it up to her for inspection.

“Open wide,” Grant grinned.

Brandy opened her legs as wide as she could as she felt the vibrator being nudged between her swollen lips. Slowly it began to fill her as Grant eased it in fully. When he was sure it was in as far as Brandy could take it, he stretched her costume over it and snapped it shut, forcing the vibe to stay within her.

Grant disappeared below again and soon the captive angel felt the low hum of the vibrator inside of her, sending another hot pulse of bliss rushing through her.

“If got this thing rigged to an old sewing machine pedal, Brandy,” Grant told her, “So when I press down, the bigger the buzz.”

And Grant did just that. The vibrator roared to life inside her; a eruption of molten joy engulfed her as she bucked inside the coffin.

Then it went back to a slow hum.

“Well, kiddo, I have a few more things to get ready before we open. See you in a bit,” Grant said before kissing her on her forehead and disappearing.

The slow hum of her friend did nothing more than keep her fires lit. She could feel an orgasm welling-up inside her but she was helpless to do anything about it except to trying and press herself against something to get herself off.

But it wasn’t happening.

“It’s show time!” Grant said when he returned.

Brandy didn’t know how long he was gone, but it had been entirely too long. She had managed a small orgasm while he was away, but nothing fully satisfying. She tried to mewl her need to Grant, but he ignored her as he practiced looking like a maniacal axe murderer.

“Wha’cha lookin’ at?” Grant bellowed as he began to put the coffin lid down over Brandy.

Just then the vibrator wailed inside of her, causing her to scream with pleasure through her gag. She bucked and cried as wave after white hot wave crushed her beneath its rapture.

Then she felt the prick of an electric spark against her clit.

The near pain sent another orgasmic spiral rending through her, so much so that she thought that she was going to cause the coffin to fall over.

The vibrator then dimmed to a slow hum again.

“Damn, girl, that was perfect,” Grant exclaimed, “keep it up!”

Brandy didn’t know if she could keep it up but before she could moan her reply, another group came through and the vibe was once again raging inside of her as she bucked against another orgasm.

The blonde lost all track of time. There was some pauses while the groups went through when Grant would grab a club member and bind them into another coffin; all while scaring the rest of the group down to the cornfield maze. Finally the vibrator went silent.

“So, girlfriend, how was your first night of coffin duty?” Cindy asked.

Brandy weakly nodded her head, completely drained from four hours of struggles and climaxes. She felt her bindings lashing her ankles and elbows to the casket being untied before being lifted out. The cool of the night air let Brandy know just how damp her costume had become as she was seated on one of the sealed caskets. She just closed her eyes and let the strains of the night echo through her as she waited to have the ropes untied from her ankles and wrists.

Then Brandy felt a collar being fastened around her neck.

The blonde’s eyes flew open as Grant fastened a leash onto her collar while Cindy looked on with her husband Hugh beside her.

“You volunteered for the whole weekend, Brandy,” Grant grinned, giving her lead a slight tug, “Now the only question is, do I take you back to your place or mine?”

-the end-

If you enjoyed this story and would like to see more of my writings, please e-mail me at FESSELN1@aol.com. Or visit my weblog at http://fesselnsfiction.blogspot.com/ . Any and all comments are welcomed and appreciated.