Sometimes we make really bad life choices, and looking back it’s hard to recall how we ever let ourselves get into such a precarious situation. Three days after I’d made my fateful mistake, I was still looking back and wondering who I let it all happen. 1 "Welcome to my party, Lisa," Fredrick said in that thick, mysterious accent of his. I can never place it, but it makes his smooth voice a delight to listen to. He opened his front door wider, inviting me into his home. "I'm so glad you could make it." "Thanks for the invite," I said with an amused smile. It's not like I haven't been in his house at least a dozen times before, but Fredrick is always so polite and friendly. I always find it just a little surprising, coming from someone who is so immensely talented and successful. As we walked deeper into his mansion, I noticed that the place seemed pretty empty for a party. "Where is everyone?" I asked. "They will come later," Fredrick said. "I invited you and James early. I thought you could help me get in the mood for what is to come later, yes?" I grinned and nodded my head. Fredrick is such an incredible horn-dog that I had little doubt what kind of help he needed to get into the mood. This wasn't the first time he'd invited James and me over for a three-way―but in the past these little get-togethers had been rather intimate affairs. Not something done as a prelude to an evening's party. Not that I minded. Fredrick's well manicured hands are incredibly talented. It didn't matter whether he was lovingly creating a sculpture or stuffing his long delicate fingers into my private places. His grace transcended; even while his motions were a model of thoughtful efficiency. He seemed to wring the most out of every fluid motion. He never let me undress myself, and I liked that too. "You dress impeccably," he told me once, as he was removing a tight little black dress that clung to my waist before flaring at the hips. "But removing your beautiful wrapping is half the fun." I couldn't argue with that—even if I was seeing it from the other side. Even though he's more than fifteen years my senior, there was something about the way his fingers brushed so lightly against my skin as he slipped the straps of my dress down over my shoulders. My heart beat faster and faster as he peeled the clingy layer of fabric from my torso. "Now that's not nice," my friend James said as he entered the room. "The two of you started without me." "Still plenty of this left," I said, slapping the panty that’s still covered my bottom as I invitingly shook my tits and ass. 2 Twenty minutes later, the three of us were lying on Fredrick's bed. I felt incredibly well used and from the satisfied looks on their faces, James and Fredrick were surely feeling the same. Looking about the room (as we all slowly recovered) I suddenly noticed that something was missing. "What happened to your statue?" I asked. Usually, there was a strange (yet wonderful) statue that rested along one wall of Frederick's massive bedroom. But today, it was not there. "It's in the ballroom," Fredrick said. "Why?" "It's waiting for the lovely prostitute I've hired to sit on it this evening." "Sit on it?" His words seemed strange. The statue in question was of two metallic, green women walking hand in hand. Well, not exactly hand in hand, I suppose. Their fingers were not interlaced. Instead, their hands were pressed together with the palms face-up, but angled just enough to form a small gap between their little fingers. Both women were posed with their outside legs moving forward, supporting their full weight, while their inside legs were swept back, barely touching the ground with their outstretched toes. Two rings of metal jut out from those inside legs. This was not the first time it had occurred to me that the rings on the inner legs could probably be used as manacles for a person who would be standing between the green women. Their joined arms were swung back as well, but the angle of their upturned palms would force any person sitting in the middle to lean forward substantially, draping their arms around the green women's' shoulders, to support their weight. Even thought their joined hands were slightly cupped, I'd never thought they looked like a comfortably place for someone to sit. "Did you not wonder at the sculpture's name," Fredrick asked. "It is called the Erotic Seat for good reason." I've seen the statue many times, but I'd never actually heard its name. Usually, the hands were covered by a silk scarf, which gave the statue an almost platonic feel. It looked like two sisters (twins?) holding hands as they walked across a field of flowers, or something. "You're already naked," James said with a playful grin. "Why don't you let Fredrick show you how the statue works?" "Would you really do that?" Fredrick asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "I don’t know," I replied. It’s not like this would be the first time I’d tried out one of his creations, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about how uncomfortable those hands looked. “You don’t have to,” he said, looking decidedly disappointed. “It's just such a special pleasure when I can show my friends the more intricate workings of my bondage creations." “I suppose it would be alright,” I said after my initial hesitation. I’d always been a sucker for those boys with sad dog eyes. And Fredrick really was a genius with those fingers of his. I couldn’t help thinking he deserves a little consideration for making me feel so glorious. So we walked down the hall to the massive foyer, where he hosted his parties. The foyer was at least twenty feet from floor to ceiling, with one glass wall looking out over an incredible view of the city. On a pedestal in the center of the room was the missing statue. Even in the large, open space it seemed to dominate the room. I walked up to examine the thing closer. Now that I knew it's name, I could see how the slightly oversized hands formed a little cup that might cradled the cheeks of a small person's ass without too much discomfort, but I still couldn't imagine how anyone could possibly stay perched on it for very long. With their ankles secured in the metal rings, the hands that form the seat would force the person to lean forward. They could drape their arms around the metal shoulders of the statue women, but their middle would still be inclined to slide off the seat unless they exerted a constant effort. "I still don't see how…" "Maybe this will clear up the confusion," Fredrick said as he held up a small rubber object. It was black, about the size of a small ball-gag. “It’s just one of the saddles I’ve created,” he said with a proud smile. "Oh my," I exclaimed, my eyes widening in sudden realization. The oval shape was clearly intended to slide into one of the rider’s orifices, while the other end terminated in a spiral thread, that no doubt screwed into the space between the statue’s hands. "But how does the victim…" "…Living art, my dear. Living art…" "…But how do they get themselves up on the statue's hands?" James chuckled and looked over at Frederick. "Maybe it's time for a little demonstration," he suggested. "I don't think that's necessary," I replied, "besides… I doubt we have time, what with the party and all." "I don't expect the other guests to arriving until almost nine," Fredrick assured me. And it was only ten minutes to eight. "Come on, Lisa," James encouraged. "You can't fully appreciate Fredrick's work until you use it the way it was intended." "How would you know," I countered, "have you sat on the thing?" "In fact, I have," James said with a mischievous grin. "My saddle vibrated and it was delightful." "Saddle, huh? Is that what you're calling that thing?" "It's as good a name as any," Fredrick said. "So, you ready to saddle up?" James teased. I’m not sure if the smug look of eagerness on Jame’s face was more endearing or more irritating. Either way, he really wanted to see me riding that saddle; his expression was so transparent that it's almost comical. Not that I couldn entirely blame him. I would have loved to see him riding the saddle too. And I couldn’t help wondering what I’d look like up on those hands. "It don't know," I said with a skeptical frown. "It doesn't look comfortable, but I don’t think it’s what you’d call a stringent bondage device." "You think not?" Fredrick asked. I shook my head. "Sorry Fredrick, I don’t think it would be hard to escape." "Ah… perhaps you would like to help me test that?" "Test it?" "Yes. We'll make a bet," Fredrick said with a friendly smile. "If you can remove yourself from the statue before the evening is over, I'll deliver it to your home… it will become your property, to do with as you wish…" "Remove myself?" I asked with reasonable skepticism. “What exactly does that mean?” “I don’t expect you to remove your ankles from the manacles. All you have to do is lift yourself off my girl’s hands and bring your body down to the floor. The ankle manacles swivel so your legs won’t suffer any damage, if you succeed.” “And what do you get if you win?” I asked. “Nothing,” he said with an innocent expression that promised much more than he was letting on. I puzzled over that for several seconds before I caught on, then what he was suggesting began to sink in. "Oh my,” I said. “If I loose, you want me to continue riding your statue until the party’s over?" "Your beautiful body will be living art, yes? A delight for the senses of all my guests." "It really is an amazing piece," I say, eyeing the statue with covetous greed. I can't help thinking how wonderful it would look in my basement playroom, if I could actually get it down the stairs “Come on,” James said, egging me on. “You know you want to ride it; and I’ll take pictures so you can have a momento of the occasion.” “Oh thank you so much,” I said with as much sarcasm as I could muster—although I don’t think my fake attitude fooled James for one moment. He always seemed to know what I really wanted. "Is simple, you say,” Fredrick added, “how can you loose?" He gave me a friendly grin. "This will be like my present to you, no?" "I won't loose," I assure him, feigning more confidence than I actually felt. Despite my earlier show of confidence I was beginning to have doubts "I'm a witness," James said; and I heard a faint whir as he activated his cyber-eye. "For the record, please state the terms of the bet." "If Lisa can remove herself from the saddle of my bondage statue before my party ends at twelve o'clock, the statue will belong to her. She can store it here, at my place, take it home, or sell it… as her heart desires.” “And if she fails?” James asked. “Doing nothing doesn’t sound like an adequate reward,” I said, even though a part of me felt like kicking my own ass for intentionally upping the ante. “Very well,” Fredrick said. “If she looses, she will live in my house as my temporary slave, until she has to go back to work." "Just to clarify," James said with a smirk. "Is that like a maid-slave… or a sex-slave?" "Sex-slave, of course," Frederick said without any expression. "Do you agree to these terms?" James asked, his eye obviously still recording. After tonight, my vacation would begin and I wouldn’t have to go back to work for two weeks. Which meant that if I lost, I’d be Fredrick’s slave for two weeks. I simply love the statue; and it was worth far more than I'd make in ten-weeks, let alone two―so the terms seem to be stacked in my favor. Still, I couldn’t help wondering if there was something I’d overlooked. I thought about it hard, but I couldn’t think of what it might be. So the real question I had to ask myself was this: How much would I mind being Frederick's slave for two weeks? My heart began to race with fear and excitement just from thinking about it. Two weeks of him possessively placing his electric hands on my trembling body. Two weeks of being played with and sexually tormented. Two weeks of sucking his delicious cock. Damn, if I wasn't already getting all of that for free, I'd probably be willing to pay good money for such a vacation. Given those terms, I couldn’t help thinking it might be fun to loose on purpose—making this a win-win situation for me. Being exposed as bondage art for the duration of the party would no doubt be a little embarrassing, and humiliation is not exactly my thing; but then again, it’s not something I can't deal with now and then either. "Very well," I said, turning to face James squarely, so his eye could capture a good likeness of my face. "I accept the terms." "I bear witness to the bet," James said, then the faint whir of his cyber-eye went dead. "Was all that really necessary?" I asked, pretending to be a lot more peeved than I really was. "Of course," James replied with an evil grin. "I can't wait to see you riding a saddle and I wanted to make sure you couldn't back out." I rolled my eyes. "As if I would." "You say that now," he replied before turning to Fredrick. "Why don't you do the honor of explaining how it works in detail so we can get this party started." "There are three basic strategies for mounting a slave on a saddle," Fredrick said. "In the first option, the slave mounts herself on the saddle before the manacles are secured around your ankles. In the second, the manacles are applied first then the slave is raised up onto the saddle. And finally, the whole statue can be leaned forward while the manacles are secured and the saddle inserted, then the slave and statue are lifted together." "I hope you don't expect me to choose!" "Not at all," Fredrick said. "We will use the third option. Please… lie on the ground in front of the statue, with your face down." With only a slight sense of trepidation, I did as he said. "Very good. Now, James, you will please help me lower the statue into place." Even though I knew they weren’t going to drop it on me, I couldn't help looking over my shoulder and feeling a little fear. I kept telling myself that the statue looked more dangerous than it really was and even if they did loose their hold, the statue would simply land around me, without doing any real damage at all. I’m not sure I believed it, even though it seemed like my body ought to fit into the space under their cupped palms. Fortunately I didn’t have to find out and when the statue was in place, each of my ankles was placed into the manacles located on each of the inside legs of the metal women. "Now, before we get to the tricky part," Fredrick said as he knelt down beside me and held up two saddles. Neither of these saddles were the smaller bulbous-shaped thing I’d seen earlier. One was a massive phallus, maybe twelve inches long and two inches in diameter. The other was a much shorter heart-shaped bulb, about three inches in diameter, with a blunted tip and a narrower stem below the wider bottom. "I'll let you choose your own saddle," Fredrick said. "Hey! Those aren't the saddles we agreed to use," I protested, suddenly realizing why Fredrick was so confident that he'd win. "I think we should use the assplug," James said, pointing towards the heart shaped saddle. "There's no way either of those are going inside me," I said pessimistically. Or was that optimism? Perhaps even wishful thinking or false hope… "I don't think she's going to cooperate," James said, obviously relishing the thought. "Hold her up then," Fredrick said, "We'll do this the hard way." I wasn’t sure what he had in mind until James wrapped his arms around my lower waist and hoists my hips into the air, making the intended target much more accessible. Gasping as something cold and oily is dripped on my anus, I begin to squirm. Despite the continued protests of my body and the suddenly realization that I’d probably be riding this statue for the rest of the evening and then be a slave for the next two weeks—I still wasn’t entirely displeased with the way this was shaping up—although I still wasn’t looking forward to them shoving that bulbous shape up my crapper. I felt a pressure as the three inch bulb began to press against the cheeks of my ass. “There you go,” James said as he helped pull the lobes apart and the bulb began to press against my sphincter. “Relax those muscles, my little future slave.” “This is not fair,” I protested, “You totally tricked me.” “We did,” Frederick agreed. “But it’s a legally binding contract,” James said with a pleased grin. “That’s one of the main reasons I spent the money on this eye, you know” My muscles were finally beginning to relax and I could feel the hard point of the oval slipping inside me. “The other reason is because I can record high definition video of events that I really want to remember—like this one.” “You wouldn’t!” I squeaked in horror as the oval slipped the rest of the way inside me. But I could hear the soft whir of his eye as it focused and I knew that he was. “You can bet I’ll be spending a lot of time downloading my occipital files,” James said with a grin. “Hope you enjoy the show, asshole!” I said, feigning outrage. “Oh, I intend to,” James said, still as pleased as he could be. “Fine,” I said at last, “If we’re doing this, I guess you better lift me up and… awhh!” Illustration by Clay3570 https://clay3570.deviantart.com/gallery/1355422/bondage-stuff Before I’d finish my thought they’d began to lift the statue—and me with it. The process was actually not as unpleasant as I’d expected it to be, but it had also taken me by surprise. My ankles hung loosely within the manacles, providing no support of my weight at all, which meant that while they were lifting me, virtually all of my weight was being supported by the plug that was now stuffed deep inside me. Once the statue was standing upright, it wasn’t quite as bad. The plug was deep but the palms of the statue provided more support than I expected. The finger seat had a way of spreading the cheeks of my ass and I could still feel the weight of my body pulling at the muscles of my sphincter, spreading my hole even further. My arms were draped over the shoulders of the metal women, but this merely helped me to keep my upper body from slumping over. It did almost nothing to reduce the weight pressing up into my pubes. I felt so exposed, and horny; it was incredible. “I’m afraid you’ll have to pardon my absence,” Frederick said as he cupped my breast and gave a gentle squeeze. “But I have to make final preparations for the party now.” “Me too,” James said, in his far less elegant way. “I have some last minutes things to take care of.” 3 Twenty or so minutes later I was still dangling from my perch on the statue. I hadn’t made a bit of progress freeing myself and my crotch was beginning to feel a little numb. It occurred to me, in my mild agony, that this must be vaguely similar to what it’s like to sit on a wooden horse. Only that pain and numbness would have been center further forward, between my lower lips, while this pain was further back, more in the cheeks of my ass and the slightly bloated feeling of having my sphincter stretched out. I could feel how much looser I was now, but I still had no chance of pulling myself off of the bulbous shaped that pinned me to those evil hands. Just then the doorbell rang and I could hear James distinctive steps racing from the den to the front door to open it. “Oh God,” I groaned in anticipation of the humiliation to come. “Here we fucking go.” To my surprise, when James lead the first guest into the room, it wasn’t a complete stranger as I’d expected. Instead, to my complete horror, it was my boss from work. He was an uptight, conservative type who I never would have envisioned coming to such a party in a thousand years. “Hope you don’t mind,” James explained with that infuriating grin of his, “but I took the liberty of forwarding that video I took earlier to all of your social media contacts, along with an invite to tonight’s party.” All I could think to say was, “You didn’t.” “I wouldn’t want them to miss out on all the fun,” James said. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself, Miss Pace,” my boss said through tight lips. “Ah… sssir, this is not what it looks like, I can assure you.” “The video evidence doesn’t seem to support that claim,” he said, seeming even more angry now than he’d been when he first came in. “And now, if this man is correct, every worker on your call list will have a record of this spectacle. And who knows who they’ll send it to!” “But sir…” “No, no… I’m not one to deny your right to live your life any way you want to… God knows this world is going to hell in a handbag, whether I want it to or not. So if you’re enjoying yourself so much, I suggest that you extend your upcoming vacation… permanently!” “Thank you sir,” James said still smiling; apparently too stupid (or high) to know that this wasn’t an act of generosity. “James! Tell him this isn’t my fault. This was all your idea.” “Actually, sir, it was a little her fault. Although I have to admit that Frederick and I gave her plenty of encouragement.” Without even responding, her boss turned around and stormed towards the door. Before he reached it the doorbell was ringing again. This time, Frederick answered the door and the man he let in was someone that Lisa knew from her church. She rarely attended anymore, but it was still deeply embarrassing to have him ogling her from across the room as Frederick waved him in. “Oh God!” I groaned, “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.” “Seems to me you did it to yourself,” James said, still grinning. And suddenly I noticed that he was holding up a large ball gag. “I think it’s time to shut you up,” he said holding it up as if he thought it were a lollipop. “Wouldn’t want you begging someone to let you down and accidentally winning the bet, now would we.” “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” I said again as he pressed the gag’s ball against my lips. “Is this how it’s going to be for the whole two weeks?” “Two weeks?” James said, looking at me as if he were confused. “What are you talking about? Two weeks.” “Two weeks,” I said, starting to feel a small hint of real panic. “That was the terms of our deal.” James pulled out his phone, which he’d obviously already downloaded his optical video to and began to play back the recording of our contract. "I'm a witness," James voice said, "For the record, please state the terms of the bet." "If Lisa can remove herself from the saddle of my bondage statue before my party ends at twelve o'clock, the statue will belong to her. She can store it here, at my place, take it home, or sell it… as her heart desires.” “And if she fails?” “Doing nothing doesn’t sound like an adequate reward.” “Very well, if she looses, she will live in my house as my temporary slave, until she has to go back to work." James pressed the off button and the phone fell silent. “And you, my beautiful friend, have just been fired—which means that as long as Frederick is willing to keep you as his slave, you will never need to go back to work.” That can’t be right, I thought with terrible dread as he pushed the gag deeper into my mouth. “Trust me,” James said, as he buckled the straps tight. “Frederick has the best lawyers money can buy. I should know. I’m one of them.” “Mmph!” I groaned into my gag as the reality of my situation began to settle in around me, like a weight pressing down on my shoulders. “Ah, there’s your best friend Kim and her boyfriend and … isn’t that’s your estranged brother? Oh my, now that really is bringing the dirt out of the woodwork. How many years has it been since you’ve seen him?” “MMPH!” I screamed, trying to pull myself up enough to slide off those invasive hands. But it was hopeless; and the list of guest just kept coming. There were a few strangers, but most of them it seemed were my friends and family. They all came in and ogled my helpless body. I was the centerpiece of the party. They tease me, touch me. People I thought were my friends. And the only relieve I got that night was when one after another, they decided to fuck me, for every thrust they rammed inside me lifted me up a little, allowing my numb ass to thaw out a little. At least for a while.