Endurance Pt. 01 – The Fetish Encounter

Some notes:

Everybody in this story is eighteen. Everything that is mentioned happened when everybody involved was at least eighteen.

I tend to use the same words and phrases in all my stories, regardless where they are published, e.g. calling my genitals my girlhood. So if you see my words in stories elsewhere please don’t think I copied someone else. My stories are easy to recognize from the words I use (bunny hole?) and the complicated plots: girl gets naked, girl gets tied up, or whipped or screwed, girl comes. Happy ending.

I am Juliette, age twenty, though this story takes place when I was a willowy eighteen. Being a jock and having graduated from middle-level college, or secondary college, if you will, I sought to toughen myself for university competition. I had heard much of the organization Uithoudingsvermogen. Its members sought methods to increase their athletic endurance, so I inquired about joining. The first hurdle was attaining the age of eighteen, which I did simply by waiting a month. The second was making progress on completing ten endurance tests. One did not have to do them all before becoming a member, but had to be trying. This allowed candidates to join early, whereupon they would begin paying dues. Everyone was happy.

Reading about the tests it seemed to me that many of them had more of a BDSM rather than a strictly athletic character. There was a certain amount of physical abuse and rather dubious relevance to any sport I knew of. E.g. the first one involved being bound to a post for a day while being denied food and sleep. It wasn’t clear to me how this would help my running, biking and swimming. Nevertheless, I wanted to proceed. I talked to some of the girls who had undergone the test. They had passed rather easily, but entertained me with stories about being tied up naked in front of scores of men. And there were rumors about really pretty girls, which I flatter myself I am, being put in a special featured group, away from everyone else, where they were treated more as sex objects than aspiring athletes. Plus the test was held in the Black Forest in Germany, so I would be far from home. But it was only one day, about two with travel. I signed up, parting with one hundred Euros. Plus I had to pay to get there.

I set out on a Friday morning, taking the train to Stuttgart and then the bus to Freiburg. There we were picked up and went to Triberg. It was all a blur to my young eyes. In Triberg we were told to get something substantial to eat. It would be our last meal for at least twenty-four hours. After dinner we went to the FTG industrial plant to check in, change clothing, hand over our gear and spend the night. But there was no sleeping. The test involved twenty-four hours without sleep, as well as without food. Never fear, there were movies played and guards to make sure no one nodded off. There were about forty of us who were gonna take the test. This included thirteen women. We were given plain grey shifts and underpants. I wouldn’t call these panties. The men were given plain grey shirts and shorts and, I guess, underpants. There were no shoes or socks. We had to turn over everything we brought, even female sanitary products. Thank God I wasn’t on the rag. It was 9PM. The test went until 9PM Saturday.

Morning came. I guess. It was still dark when we were ushered outside onto a bus. There was a second bus filled with workers, presumably members of Uithoudingsvermogen. These were the people who would tie us and do whatever had to be done to pull this thing off. The actual company of tying us up was supposed to begin at 6AM. Each of us was given a blindfold. We were told to put it on and leave it on until told we could take it off. The bus started and we headed off. I missed seeing the scenery. When we were coming back from dinner I had seen gorgeous stretches of trees and flat land. Behind FTG was a hill that went up fast like a small mountain.

At first, we seemed to drive in circles, or rather like a square. To confuse us, I wondered. So we could have no idea where we were going. Sitting there on the bus I first became aware of how hungry I was. There had been water in fountains at FTG, but we had no breakfast. Nor would we have lunch or dinner. We drove for an hour and at the end a lot of the road was uphill. Finally, we stopped and were told we could take off our masks. It was almost light. The scenery was, like before, incredibly gorgeous. A pine forest, an open space in front of us, the flowers of summer still in bloom. In the open space were the posts we were to be tied to. If I had to be tied up naked, I decided, it would be here. We got off the bus and were told to stand in a line. They then sorted us boy, boy, girl, boy, boy, girl, the forty of us so when we were bound everyone would have an opposite sex person on one or the other side. I hoped I’d get a guy with a nice body.

Then a change of plan. They came down the line slowly, studying every female. They asked three of the females to fall out of line. I was one of them. I couldn’t help noticing we were the youngest and prettiest. The others were then marched off to the posts and paired off with them, one after the other, with the post they would be tied to. They were of black wood, two meters tall, square in cross-section, ten centimeters wide, and ten deep. They were arranged in a wide quarter of a circle. The people were then told to strip. As they began, two workers came out from the buses. One carried a bridge table, the other a lovely old chime clock, almost a meter in height. They set it up.

I was blown away by the scene. Some people stripped slowly, some quickly. Some hesitated before removing their underpants. Possibly they feared being the only one to go all the way. The workers administering things began picking up all the grey clothes and underpants. There must have been twenty of these people. While this was done, twenty more workers began distributing rope to each post. There was a lot of it. We were really gonna be tied with enough rope, and tightly enough, and for long enough, to make this a real test of endurance. As soon as a person was naked, and their ropes delivered, and workers were available, the tying started. Just then the clock chimed, a Westminster chime, which was at the quarter-hour four chimes, eight at the half, and twelve at three quarters. Then, at the hour, sixteen, followed by a different chime tolling the number of the hour. Now the clock chimed a quarter of. Almost certainly six.

The sun had risen, but was still below the tops of the trees. The air was chilly and I shivered slightly in my grey shift. Pretty soon I’d be naked though, and I’d be chillier. But this was after all to toughen me up. I wondered about my parents. They were probably eating breakfast. Hungry as I was I wished I were there with them. I usually went to the gym with my Dad Saturday afternoons, but today I couldn’t. I thought what he’d think if he knew I was gonna spend the day getting tied up naked by a bunch of German guys. He wouldn’t like the tied-up stuff, but he liked seeing me naked. Not in a sleazy way, but because he liked pretty girls naked. I had a good body and I know he took pride in the fact his sperm had produced me. We had a clear glass door on our shower and he enjoyed shaving while I was in there because he could watch me shower in the mirror. He had been the same way with my older sister. We both made sure he got a good show.

Anyway, the tying proceeded. They were about halfway through when the clock chimed 6AM. Things were going fast because all they had to tie at first were people’s hands. That way people were held there and they had all day to add rope and tighten. It was amazing to look at. Over two dozen naked guys. I don’t think I had ever seen more than about a half-dozen dicks at once, one time when we went nude swimming at Scheveningen near home. It was overwhelming, almost, all those naked guys, many young jocks. Shortly after, the clock chimed six. About ten men came to get me and my two partners in the pretty-girl group. We walked around the end of the line-up of poles and I got a closer look at some of the other women. Most were in their twenties and looked like athletes, but not all of them.

We walked behind it all, a row of trees separating us and the row of poles. Walking away from the curved line of posts we came to a golf cart and a dirt road. They had us get in the cart and once again we had to don blindfolds. The cart headed up the dirt road. We drove for about five minutes and then turned left, one of several paths we could have chosen, it turned out. Then there was a fork and more paths to choose, but we were blindfolded and didn’t know. Finally we stopped. There were more men there. We got out of the cart and were able to take off the blindfolds. The dirt road we had been on was now just a path. We were in the middle of the forest, the middle of nowhere. It was about this time that I started to get a little scared. The other girls looked scared too. Where the fuck were we? Why had we been separated from the group? What was gonna happen? Now more men arrived. I found that even though I was scared the whole thing made me horny. I knew what happened to girls in the pretty-girl group.

We went down a little footpath and then at one point hung a right and went through a wooded patch where there was no path. The under footing sort of cut my feet. Of a sudden, we came into a clearing. There were three posts just like the ones the others had been tied to, in a little enclave reserved just for us three. There was also a chime clock. The posts here were at the points of a triangle, arranged so when we were tied to them we would face each other. We were each placed in front of one of them. We stood a while waiting and the reason soon became apparent. Even more men arrived. I looked at the other girls, pretty girls with good bodies. We were the star attraction. And we were now gonna get naked. My nipples were stiff as rocks, the tight spot above my cunt told me I wanted it, my cunt was so wet I could smell myself. We were told to remove our shifts. The clock chimed the half-hour. Half past six.

We pulled off our shifts. The men murmured appreciation of our almost naked bodies. I might say I was cool, but I was scared shitless. And horny as hell. So, it seemed, were the other girls. Later I found out they were barely eighteen, just as I was. We were told to remove our underpants. We took them off with mixed feelings, and stood there buck ass naked, trying to cover our breasts and our genitals with our hands and arms, but all of us needing it. Teams of three men approached each of us. One man on each team would do the tying, the other two would handle the equipment needed to bind us. We were gonna be tied in two stages. The first stage was just to hold us at our post. The second stage was to test our endurance by adding more and more rope, tightening it slowly, piece by piece, essentially torturing us. And the torture could increase throughout the day, depending on how sadistic the men tying us were. And the men assigned to our pretty-girl group were rumored to be the worst.

The first stage was simple. Our hands would be pulled back behind the post and our wrists bound, tight enough to prevent our escape, but not so tight as to cut off our circulation. It was a long test, just over fourteen hours, considering our somewhat late begin and the 9PM ending time. Then our ankles would be tied, one on one side of the post and one on the other, the rope passing behind the post, spreading our legs enough to provide a view of our genitals. Again, the rope would be tight enough to prevent escape, but not enough to cut off the circulation. Same thing with our necks. Easy.

The second stage was almost unstructured. Lengths of rope which ranged from one-half to three meters would be used. They could be wrapped, one at a time, around an arm, or a thigh, or a tummy, or our breasts, or around our waists and over our genitals. Then, for each rope separately, the ends would be passed into the two entry holes of a swimming pool cover tightener. Then the rope could be tightened, a little at a time, or in one go, to any tightness desired, subjecting the girl being tied to as much pain as desired, for as long as desired, up to the fourteen-hour length of the test. One bottle of water was provided for each girl for the test. Peeing was done standing in place. There was no food. And no sleep. Now the sun peeped over the tops of the trees. I soon found that the sun would gradually trace a path down my post and over my body until I was full in the sun, remaining so for most of the day. Now an order was given to start tying us. The clock chimed 7AM.

The man who was to do my tying stepped in. He was about sixty-five, not much taller than I, a little paunchy, dressed in camouflage clothes, wearing metal-rimmed glasses and a sort of Cuban-looking cap, round and about ten centimeters in height. He brushed my hair away from my breasts and over my shoulders and started gently feeling me up, telling me how gorgeous I was. I was so horny I could scream. Not wanting to antagonize him I said nothing all day about the liberties he took with my nude body. In fact I wanted more. He worked slowly, all day he worked slowly, drawing things out as much as feasible. No boy who had ever had me spent so much time on what could only be called foreplay. I was so wet it ran down the insides of my thighs.

At length he enjoyed my ample bosom. Feeling the softness of each breast, squeezing gently, pinching my nipples, hard as rocks, until it hurt me and I flinched, trying to avoid his fingertips. Satisfied with my tits he let his hand trace a path lower down to my belly and lower still until he reached my mountain flower, easily accessible between my legs, tied as they were to the sides of the post. He felt the wetness of my girlhood, raised his fingers to his face, sniffed and tasted. He told me what a good lay I must be, not far from the truth of it, as a matter of fact. As best he could with my back to the post he felt my bottom, the skin soft and smooth as silk. He asked if I took it in the bum and I didn’t answer. But I had.

Finally, he got to the tying. For this, he did not double the rope over so he could thread both ends of each piece through one of the pool cover tighteners so they could do their fiendish work. He selected, one at a time, two of the shortest lengths of rope and wrapped each three or four times around one of my upper arms, over the belly of the biceps muscle. He then ran the ends into a tightener and left it only tight enough to stay in place. My arms done, he moved lower, using the appropriate length ropes on each of my legs, one just above the knee, another halfway up my thigh, the final one at my crotch. For all of the ropes he added to my body, each passed only around me, not the post, so they would be tightened only around me, and I would feel the full effect of the slowly tightening rope squeezing me more and more everywhere he tied me.

Next, he started on my body. Each rope went around me twice. The first rope went around my chest twice up under my arms. The second around my chest just above my nipples. The third around my chest just below my breasts. The fourth around my belly button. The last was really in two parts. The first part went around the top of my hips, held there by my hips so it couldn’t be pulled any lower, except right in the middle. The second part went down in between my legs, carefully placed so it went in between my pussy lips then up in back through the crack in my ass where it looped over the rope around the top of my hips. Then it came back down through my ass crack, in between the lips of my girlhood and up over the top of the around over my hips. It went this route twice. All of the ropes around my body were fitted so the tighteners formed a row straight down the front of me. I moved my hips as best I could, trying to stimulate my girlhood with my cunt rope.

After all this two more sadistic additions were made to my body. First, a pair of C-clamps, one for each breast, tightened just enough to stay on, one on each nipple. Then a rope around my neck, going around three times around, the tightener just a few centimeters under my chin. I was ready to be tortured. All in the name of increased uithoudingsvermogen. So were my two companions in the pretty-girl group. Each was tied differently, but, as the day progressed I think we suffered equally. All this time the spectators had been enjoying watching three gorgeous but helpless young girls get tied. They were now dismissed, as were the two assistants assigned to help ready us. The three men who were left now took photos of us, which was not supposed to happen. The clock chimed three-quarters. 7:45AM. Breakfast was brought to the men, who sat together to eat. I squeezed my ass hard against the post and then moved my hips out hard like fucking and finally, gloriously, my pussy rope helped me cum.

Anyway, the day went forward. I glowed with the wonder of having cum despite the fear I felt and helplessness of being bound. Time passed and seemingly every breath I took exacerbated the discomfort and finally the excruciating pain I felt from my ropes as they were slowly tightened. There is no point in describing in detail the whole ordeal. The guy started with the ones on my arms, then went down to my legs. But not tightening all at once, in stages with the rest of my ropes. Down the front of my body where the tighteners lined up, under my arms, above and below my tits, around my belly and around my hips. Then finally my pussy rope. It first pulled tight up my ass crack and then, when that was done, created a wedgie the length of my mountain flower. There were the C-clamps on my nipples. The rope around my neck was left to the very end. So it went with the other two girls. Finally dusk was upon us, 9PM and the end was near.

Just before it got dark I saw, the last thing I saw for a time, the men who had tied the other girls approach from behind them and blindfold them. At the same time a blindfold was pulled over my eyes. Then there was silence. I felt a man approach, a man taller than the man who had tied me. And the cries of the other two girls told me the same thing was happening with them.

I felt the man at my ankles, untying them, leaving my legs free. Then untying my cunt rope and throwing it apart. I knew what was gonna happen. I had heard about the pretty-girl group. I felt his hands on my bare tits. They felt amazingly good. This whole experience had been one big build-up to getting myself screwed. Then his hands were at the backs of my thighs, at the very top against my ass, pushing my body enough up the pole so we could do it. I had never been fucked standing up before. I felt the tip of his dick at my cunt and then he was in me, all the way in me, fucking me, hard and fast and I couldn’t believe how wonderful it was I was so fucking horny and he was so big inside me and he kept pounding away and it went on and on and I came harder and harder than I could ever remember and it just went on and on forever and then I sort of went into some kind of never-never land and then gradually the fog lifted and I was just limp from all the feelings that swarmed over me and I sort of fainted.

I don’t remember all of the rest, just vaguely being untied, still naked, of course. And guys being there, and then I had my shift, but never saw my undies again. There were girls there now, and they gave me something to eat and drink, and I got to pee in relative privacy, and then we got in a golf cart, and then we were down below and there was one bus left for the clean-up crew and the pretty-girl group. I asked the girls if they could tell me who had fucked me. I didn’t want to be somebody who couldn’t name every boy that had screwed them, especially since I was only eighteen. But no luck. I had to wait for almost two hours while the clean-up crew finished and then we went back to Triberg. They gave me back my things that I had checked at FTG the night before and put me into the hotel and now room service gave me a full meal. I ate and fell asleep instantly, still in my shift and nothing else.

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