You've always fallen for the petite types, especially little blondes. Minda is not quite five feet seven inches tall and very fragile looking, although she maintains a rigorous schedule of exercise and athletics that keeps her lithe body fit and firm. And her breasts are cannonball-round, tight mounds with cleavage so deep it's like a bottomless valley.

You have been seeing each other for several weeks when Minda invites you to come to her work. She is a nurse at a private hospital and is working the all-night shift for the week. Alone. "And I love to have sex in new places," she coos into the phone. No man could have resisted such temptation!

You drive out to the site. It is a very remote location, far from the beaten path. The Kaplan Home is euphemistically called a "rest retreat". It's actually a private mental hospital for the wealthy and politically connected families who want to avoid state institutional care of loved ones and the messy headlines such brings. Everyone is self-admitted, though more than a few are pressured into signing up for a few weeks or even months of various therapies for whatever harmless (but embarrassing) dysfunctions they might possess.

You had expressed concern for Minda's safety at such a place. "I know they are mostly harmless," you said over a cafe lunch last week, "but what if one of them suffers delusions or some other temporary psychosis during which he is dangerous?"

"The female patients I can take. As for the men, how hard is it to burst a man's testicles?" Minda asked with a broad smile, and slamming her hands together created such a loud SLAP sound as to shake the fork from your hand and cause you to jump back in your seat. The other patrons around you were also stirred.

Still with the smile, Minda looked you square in the eyes and said calmly, "It's that easy."

"Is that a threat?" She made no answer, and squirming nervously in your seat you could see added deliciously to the pleasure she seemed to derive from your public discomfort.

"Pick up your fork," was all she said, loud enough for others to hear, then continued eating. You should have realized then the nature of your relationship, or perhaps better to say the nature of her relationship with you. Predator to prey, as it were.

Arriving at the hospital, you drive up and park your car beside Minda's. Yours are the only cars in the lot, which gives you a very lonely feeling. You approach the dark building, all modern looking with a completely glass front, and as sex with Minda is always an outstanding event you can hardly wait to begin.

You don't have to wait at all. Minda is at the doors to greet you, clutching at the crotch of your jeans with one hand as she re-locks the front security doors behind you. Turning around, still holding you by the balls, she tugs at her half-unbuttoned pure white nursing blouse to expose her left breast, unclad in a bra as she has foregone undergarments.

Wrapping your arms around her you bow your head and begin to nibble on her breast, the fullness of it flush and heavy to your face as you trace your tongue back and forth across her stone-hard nipple. You undress each other, Minda undoing your pants while you expose her other breast and lavish attention on it, weighing the heavy melons in your hand and alternating between them, sucking each like an infant.

Minda, her nurse's uniform now open completely, kneels down and snaps your briefs away from your thick erection. "Grab the door bar," she says, guiding your arms to grasp hold of the door behind you, and then she begins to return the favors you had given to her breasts by nibbling and suckling your manhood.

You remain stockpost straight, only barely aware that you are doing each other in front of huge glass doors. Anyone outside can see you. But the place is so remote that there is no chance of passerby, so it is public sex without risk.

Your manhood is slick with Minda's saliva as she slides her head up and down it, lathering it with her tongue and occasionally tugging the stretched foreskin gently with her teeth. When she takes her tongue and traces the crown of your head while grasping your balls with the points of her fingernails and pulling them steadily downwards, you moan and throw back your head as an orgasm wells deep inside you.

"Hold it in!" Minda hisses as she hurries to her feet and, spreading her white stockinged legs, thrusts herself upon you. Minda is exceedingly tight, as it is her habit to take ice cold baths twice a day solely to retain her "virgin's grip". The fleshy walls of her body are stubborn to yield, and the added pressure of her body on you causes you to explode into her, so forceful a climax that your legs begin to buckle. The only thing that holds you up is Minda meeting every thrust of yours with one of her own, working herself into a violent climax by ramming against your body.

Minda recovers quickly, far faster than you can. Buttoning up her blouse she looks furtively about. "Come on," she snaps, then adds with honey, "The party's just started." Taking you by the hands, she leads you stumbling (your legs are still weak) into a bright side passage. Minda draws a heavy cage across the corridor and locks it, then pulls you hurriedly along towards the front nurse's station.

Minda stops suddenly, turns around and bursts into laughter while looking at you. You wonder at her sudden humour and then look down; you had been in such a hurry to follow that you have stepped right out of your pants and underwear! "I can't walk around like this, Minda!"

"Well, there's a barred gate between you and your clothes, and it has an alarm on it," Minda says, still convulsing with laughter. "I can't interrupt the alarm twice in an hour without getting into trouble. Here." Minda reaches into a storage closet and pulls out a hospital gown. "Take all your clothes off and stuff them into the closet, then put this on." Sliding up to you, Minda fingers your balls and purrs, "Gives me easier access anyways."

She always does that, sexual tease and come-ons right after giving you some command, and it always works, the sexual pleasure dangled by Minda before you acting like a bell with Pavlov's dogs. Before you fully realize it you have stripped naked and put on the gown. It is like all hospital gowns, too short, too thin, like some sexless negligee. "You look just like a patient," Minda says, taking you by the hands and leading you away from the last of your clothing.

"You're the only one here?" you ask, suddenly concerned. You could talk your way out of a jam with your clothes on, but dressed as a patient in a psych hospital, how would you explain that? And it isn't just Minda's job you are worried about, either; you suddenly have uncomfortable thoughts of being locked away.

With Minda doing the locking.

"George is supposed to be night watchman, but he's seventy years old and always happy to be sent home early! I shut down the security cameras after he left, and I doubt we'll see or hear any of the patients tonight. There's only a few dozen, darling, and I gave them all a little extra something in their nightly cup of medication. They'll be unconscious all night."

"When do you slip me a mickey?"

Stroking your cheek with her ponytailed hair and playfully scraping your naked back (showing through the gown slit) with her fingernails, Minda says, "As soon as it becomes necessary." Then she laughs again, but a little more ominous, and when she closes a second barred gate behind you a draft slips down your gown and gives you a chill.

Minda has brought some wine and shut down the lights so that everything was in darkness except for the flickering glare of the nurse's station, where she has set up several candles. You eat dinner .. actually, you eat a candlelight dinner, with Minda feeding it to you.

"Since you're dressed like a patient," she says with a warm smile and stern tone, that mix of promise and hostility she seems to enjoy blending, "I'm going to treat you like one. Open up." It is so erotic that you reach out and begin to part her firm-fleshed thighs, but she resists and says, "Do I have to put you in a straight jacket?"

"Yes, please do!" you joke, and Minda laughs and tells you that the "game" is not to touch her while she feeds you. She orders you to sit on your hands while eating.

It is intensely erotic, sitting there on a hard stool, like some child's seat and low to the ground, with Minda sitting in a chair above you, her legs crossed at your chin level and so hiking her skirt up to allow you a full view of her shapely legs, with the shadow between her legs concealing the perfect patch you know to be there. Minda makes you chew each small bite slowly, allowing you time to study her athletic frame and the disproportionately large breasts straining against the thin fabric of her nurse's blouse.

About halfway through the dinner, Minda takes several large peas and holds them in front of your open mouth. "Suck but don't swallow," she orders, and you obediently take the peas into your mouth. After just a moment, still her hand in front of your mouth, Minda tells you to "Spit them out." After you do, Minda has you get on the floor on all fours, like a dog, in front of her. Then she sits back in her chair, spreading her legs wide, and inserts the pease one by one into her womanhood. "Go fetch."

Eager to play Minda's oral game, you stab your tongue into her warm, damp cavity. You begin working your lips on her, sucking at her, while working your tongue slowly deeper into Minda.

You are only vaguely aware when Minda plants the soles of her shoes on the tops of your hands, pinning them in place with gentle but firm pressure. Minda wraps her hands around your head, but she does not need to hold you in place. You are most comfortable to remain here forever, her damp pubic hairs brushing your face, the increasing heat of her tight body around your lips and tongue. That you are being tricked, coerced, forced if you will, into consuming your own earlier climax, your sex-fogged mind has not fully comprehended that yet.

Finding one pea at a time, it takes several efforts of your tongue to draw each into your mouth, and afterwards you have to again to insert your tongue into her sex and probe her body in the most intimate way possible.

Minda's reason for grasping your head soon becomes obvious. She interlaces her fingers with your hair and presses you full against her fuzzy snatch, making it impossible for you to breathe. "Just keep going," she mutters, and keeps muttering as her breathing becomes more rapid and shallow. You flick your tongue all about, sucking on her womanhood as though trying to draw in air from her body.

You start to panic that you will smother, the edges of your vision cloud and become dark, but Minda has your head locked and is now standing on your hands to trap them, having lifted herself out of the chair a little to place all her body weight on your hands and face. A pressure begins to fill your forehead, the first signs of oxygen deprivation. "Stop!" you cry, but it comes out a muffled gasp of last breath, and Minda just keeps urging you to continue.

As you struggle uselessly to free yourself, Minda begins to rock slightly back and forth, then with a guttural cry thrusts herself forward onto ypur face and explodes into orgasm. Your tongue, trapped as it is, tastes her cream, and the last pea left to find is shot straight into your mouth. It is the most delicious food I had ever tasted.

Minda humps your face a few times more before letting go, and you fall to the floor under her chair, panting for breath. You lick your lips clean of the taste of Minda's climax, finding the flavor to be sickeningly sweet. You are in complete disbelief of this woman's capacity to invent new forms of sex!

She stuns you even further when she says, moments after having a tremendous climax, "Now I'll have to do something for you." With that she causes me to roll over onto your side by jabbing the toe of her shoe into your hip, then touches her foot to the head of your throbbing erection. She wants to do you again! "Can't have you walking around with that showing through the gown. Come on."

Afraid that her sexual appetite is far in excess of your endurance, you nonetheless follow Minda hoping to relieve the tension that pulses along the length of your manhood.

Minda leads you into a narrow room, lit only by low-powered emergency lighting, two of the six ceiling panels glowing dimly. All along the wall by the door are bulky-looking medical equipment, wires, and cabinets filled with various medical supplies. In the center of the room is a girney.

Minda sits on the girney and lowers her blouse, holding one of her breasts out to you. "Wash those peas down," she says huskily, and you begin to drag on her erect nipple as though pulling for air. Your arms encircle Minda and you move forward to press her down, but she raises her knees into your stomach and holds you off.

"I've decided that, for a change, I'm going to lay you ," she says. Yet mesmerized by her breast still hanging loose, you cooperate with senses dulled by sex as Minda spreads you on the cot.

And begins fastening you down.

Minda crawls onto the girney and kneels over you, allowing you to suckle at her breast some more. You hear the clinking of metal as she reaches beside you, then encloses your left wrist with a leather-lined metal cuff. You try to protest, but Minda presses the full weight of her breast into your mouth, and before you know it your right wrist is also cuffed to the side of the girney, with chains so short you can move each hand less than an inch.

Minda rises away, kneeling astride your stomach. "These are too tight," you say. "Unlock them." Minda just stares at you, fingering her own nipple. "Come on, unlock them."

"I would think you'd be more polite, being bound helpless as you are," Minda says, so matter-of-fact that it scares the hell out of you.

"Okay, Minda, please. Please unlock them."

"This is a cot used for problem patients. The keys are in the security office."

"Okay. So go get them. Come on, Minda."

Minda bends down again to stroke your hair, offering her thick breast to you again, rubbing your lips with the hard nipple until like a good little pup you accept it into your mouth and begin to suckle again. She sits forward until her breast plumps your cheeks and coos softly, "I don't feel like leaving the room just yet. Trust me. I'll let you go after giving you the high of your life. The helplessness is half the fun."

She slides off the cot and begins working on your ankles, closing them in place with CLICK the short-chained ankle cuffs. You lay your head back and realize with horror CLICK that there is a cold sensation against the back of your neck. "uh, Minda?" you begin, but in answer to your unspoken question Minda stands over you and ratchets closed a leather-lined steel collar around your throat. "Minda!" you shout, for now your limbs and throat are enclosed in stainless steel that holds you almost completely immobile to the girney.

Minda reaches over to a table and holds up a long rubber implement of some kind, like a squared tongue depressor on a six inch stick. "This is a gag," she states, "and it'd be a shame if I had to use it. You're so good with your tongue." She begins to stroke your face lovingly with her hand, in the other holding the threatened gag. "No gag?" she asks.

You shake your head no. You are now totally in her power, afraid, and more turned on than you have ever been before!

"Good." Minda puts the gag away. "The short chains allow you a little movement," Minda says. "But not enough to interrupt my pleasure."

Minda literally shreds the paper-like gown with her bare hands, using her teeth to break it open first and then widening the tear until you are naked. In a seeming hurry, like perhaps a black widow with her lover, Minda pulls off her clothes and flings them into every corner of the room, leaving her lacy white stockings on. She lets her hair down from its ponytail. You look at her, the lights dancing on her sweat-glistened body, her soft golden hair and hard golden mount, and you want her so badly. The restraints are effective in building your passion; your cock, already hard, swells further to painful dimensions as you struggle in vain to touch her.

Minda throws herself over you, straddling you and spreading her legs wide before impaling herself on your erection. She is still slick with her previous climax and so easily slides along your shaft, and as she closes her legs tight the vice again clutches at your manhood and holds you more securely than the metal cuffs do.

Minda drives you out of your mind by going slow, a slight lift of her hips, opening and closing her legs in languid scissor actions. "Please, Minda! Please!" you beg, but each time Minda only smiles and goes on with her agonizingly slow game.

Minda brushes first one breast, then the other, across your lips, but when you try to suckle she draws them back, forcing you to strain against the bondage, and even then you can only taste with your tongue the stiff buds.

Minda pinches your nipples between her fingers and then sucks them, nibbles them like little kernels of corn, and after this she rubs her hardened nipples across yours and creates an electric sensation. Minda scratches her name into your arm with her fingernails, an act just painful enough to be enormously pleasurable. And all the while, she runs her legs up and down yours, spreading and closing them sometimes, presses her flat stomach to your body, occasionally sliding herself up and then down your thick pole to maintain your erection.

Minda kisses you, tossling your hair with her hands, and breathes into your mouth, "I enjoy foreplay."

"So do I," you say quickly, anxious to agree with anything she says in the hopes she would at last allow you to cross the threshold of climax.

"You are too fast," she sighs, sliding her body slowly down yours. "I want it slow sometimes." Pressing the palms of her hands against your chest, Minda stretches like a cat, and the shift of her body weight makes it seem like you have been pulled deeper inside of her! "Very slow."

"Slow! Slow!" You are so close to orgasm you want to sob. Minda is in total control now, she could release you with one thrust of her hips or get up and leave you chained down, frustrated. Helpless.

Leaning towards you, Minda says, "From now on, you are in bondage during sex, yes?"

"Yes! Absolutely!" Minda waits a moment, smiling, and you add, "From now on! All the time! Please!"

Minda brings her lips to touch yours without kissing. "I like to be in total control."

"You're in control! I swear, I swear. You own me, Minda!"

Now she kisses you and says, "Hold back as long as you can or I'll leave you here all night."

With slow and deliberate motions, Minda lifts herself from you, raising her tight buttocks into the air. It feels like she is peeling her body away from your hot erection, then Minda lowers herself down again, wrapping you into her firm body and trapping you there again.

You try to flail your arms and les, but the short chains attached to the cuffs prevent you from moving much. You are not able even to move your head from side to side much with the collar, so you can only lay still and moan as Minda rides your erection slowly.

Each raising of her body comes faster, faster. and after a few times Minda is beginning to thrust into your body. You hold back as long as possible, but with the third hard thrusting motion you lose all control.

You are shocked at the violent strength of your eruption. You pull all of the chains as taut as possible and thrust your hips with such force that you swear you lift Minda completely off the table. Minda answers by slamming into you and driving you flat against the girney, but with the next pump of climax you thrust back, and you continue your see-saw orgasms until you are both completely exhausted.

Minda curls up against you and falls immediately into a light sleep. Her slight hands rest upon your shoulders and her full breasts weigh heavily upon your chest. You want to to wrap your arms around her, but the bondage holds you fast. It is an odd sensation, really; you are bound but completely free from movement, guilt, and expectation. You can only do whatever was expected, no, demanded of you. Unable to hold Minda, you simply enjoy the press of her body while slipping into a deep, deep slumber.

Minda wakes you with a series of kisses. You began to stretch, but are still cuffed down. "That was the most relaxing sleep I've had in years," you tell her.

"Get used to it," Minda says with a wink.

"How long was I out?" you ask, noticing for the first time that Minda was dressed again. She awoke much earlier than you, it seems.

"Close to six hours," she answers.

"I've got to get dressed and get out of here!" you exclaim.

"It's still about half an hour before anyone starts to show up," Minda says. "Plenty of time." Then she begins to push the girney out of the room. With you still attached.

"Minda," you say, a little sick to your stomach. "What about the keys to these cuffs?" She ignores you and simply continues to push you, naked and bound, out the door and down the hallway of the private psychiatric hospital. "Minda!" you growl angrily.

Your mistake.

"If you're going to carry on like that," Minda says, and picks up an implement she must have laid beside your head while you were asleep. It is a wide leather strap fitted with a bright red hard rubber ball almost the size of a baseball. She jams the ball gag into your mouth, driving your jaw open a half an inch wider than it's supposed to go, and secures the strap behind your head very tightly. "Now you'll be quiet."

Minda rolls you into a small, barren room, devoid of even a window. "Used to be a break room for staff," she explains, "until they converted one of the larger patient rooms for us. Now this is just an unused storage area." Minda jangles her key ring beside your ear. "With a locking door."

You try to plead, but it only comes out as muffled and incoherent sounds. "I've already taken your clothes and stashed them in your car, which we'll have towed away later today."

"One of the daytime nurses, Julia, is into these kinds of games, too. So she'll be in sometime today to check on you," Minda says with a laugh. "I'll be back on shift tonight, and we'll continue your orgasm control training." And as she locks the door, you hear Minda say, "Hope we don't have to resort to electroshock therapy." Then there is the click of the door and her laughter, and you are alone, so alone, in a private psychiatric hospital at the mercy of the nursing staff.

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