For a moment, I was lost in the reflection of her eyes, wide and expressive ponds of azure. Her beauty had stunned me, stifling my introduction. She was perfect. Her chin, her cheeks, her hair, her body.

We stood in silence. I, dumbfounded, her, silenced. A thick, heavy plate of steel had been riveted over her mouth. Steel bolts driven through her flesh and bone so tightly that her dimpled cheeks bulged slightly from its firm grip.

I knew I was in the right place.

"I'm here to see Mistress Safia." I managed to say. The girl blinked in acknowledgment and ushered me in. She moved with surprising grace and poise on her wickedly high, spiny heels. She paused when she noticed me hesitating. "May I use the bathroom to freshen up?"

She led me to a side room and I was surprised at its size. It was all white tile with Roman columns and naked statues. I almost screamed when one came to life and reached to take my bag away. She was encased all in white latex leaving only her eyes, Asian and alluring, peering at me. She took my jacket and hung it on the open hand of a statue. I then realized that the statue looked too real, too many human imperfections. I first decided it was a cast of a real person, but I touched the outreached hand and felt the warmth of a real person, sealed in a resin of some sort to look like marble. There was a girl in there, trapped, helpless, nothing more than a bit of furniture.

I shuddered in fear and ecstacy at the thought. That was my dream. To be an object, a conversation piece, a bit of artwork to be viewed and discussed.

It was why I had come.

When I had heard of the legend of the Ultimate Bondage Technique, I knew instantly that I had to experience it for myself. I tried to glean more information, but there seemed to be none. All I could get was, a friend of a friend who had a cousin who had overheard from a guy in a bar, story. The stories that I did get were wild and extreme, painful, exotic and permanent. Women or men twisted like putty for the amusement of others.

The notion that I could be that object haunted my dreams. I could no longer have normal sex. I would pretend to be a statue and let men have their way with me. It was kinky, but I had to have something more. Knowing that others would be getting off on my suffering filled my waking thoughts. I had to have it.

The one element in the stories that I heard was Mistress Safia.

I sought her out.
Through a long list of contacts, I finally got an audience with her at the S&M club she frequented. She was flocked by her many slaves and admirers. When I had my chance, I bowed to her and begged her for the Ultimate Bondage Technique. She smiled at me with her golden eyes and said nothing.

I waited on my knees. She had other suitors and fans and slaves and mistresses met with her. I continued to wait until my knees ached and in between visitors, I asked her again. I felt her warm eyes fall on me.

"You may not." She said.

"But why?" I asked.

"Because you do not know what it is."

"Please, I beg you, tell me."

"No."

I remained there, ignoring the pain in my knees and the ache building in my back and neck. Hours passed and people came and went. Eventually, she left, her entourage in tow. I remained there, struggling with the pain of kneeling on the concrete floor. The club began to close and I remained there.
They turned off the lights and I remained there. Awash is agony from my position of reverence, I refused to move. My bladder finally demanded release and I let go there on the floor. I sobbed from the pain and shame, but I did not move.

Hunger stressed me but I did not move. I mewed and moaned in pain, but I did not lift my head or rise from my knees.

I passed out.

I was roused by a girl. She was one of the club slaves. She brought me a rice ball, tea and broth. I ignored the protest in my cramping limbs and resumed my position. I ate without raising my head as the girl cleaned up my waste.

The club opened and people walked around and ignored me. It was as if everyone knew about my meeting with Mistress Safia.

Mistress Safia did not show, but I did not move. When the club closed, the slave girl came back and after cleaning up where I again wet the floor, she took my soiled clothes. She gave me a sponge bath, then left me there naked.

I remained there until I passed out again.

When I awoke, the club had just opened. My supper of rice and broth was there and I ate wolfishly. I then resumed my position and waited. I was dizzy and delirious from pain and lack of real sleep that I did not hear when Mistress Safia spoke to me.

"Have you discovered what the Ultimate Bondage is?"

My voice was dry. "No."

She then went back to her enclave, ignoring me. I could only kneel in my torrent of agony, trembling from exhaustion. I passed out before the club closed.

The girl came and cleaned me up and brought me my rice ball when the club opened again. I found myself sitting, unable to prop myself up on my knees again. I only sat, my head bowed, and waited.

"I have learned something." I said when her delicate perfume drifted over me. The club was loud and the music was throbbing and my voice was a crumbling whisper and yet she could hear me easily. "I am here of my own will. I can leave when I wish. When the pain overtakes me, or the boredom, or the hunger, I can get up, I can go home. But were I bound, I would not have such a choice. The Ultimate Bondage must mean that no one would have the choice. I would be bound in such away that no one could free me. I would remain trapped forever."

I felt her eyes smile. "And what else have you learned?"

"That physical pain is limited. The body will eventually shut down, nerves will numb."

She nodded. "But does bondage have to be painful?"

"Not physically." I said, a little surprised that all this was suddenly clear to me. "What is more painful, however, than the loss of freedom? To be restrained completely."

"But you come to me willingly. How can you be bound by choice?"

"Because at some point I will long for freedom. I will want to do something, eat what I want, have sex, watch T.V., and that choice will be denied me. Regardless of how hard I struggle, I will be unable to escape. I will be forced to suffer my lack of freedom."

She smiled and walked away. I knew that I was now doomed to undergo the Ultimate Bondage Technique. I trembled at the thought.

I left the club.

I quit my job, telling everyone that I was moving to another state. I sold all my possessions and bought a plane ticket across country. During a lay over, I left the airport and began a very long journey, hitch-hiking my way being sure there was no trail for anyone to find me. I walked the last fifty miles to her mansion.

No one would look for me. No one would know where to look. No one would miss me.

As I prepared myself in the washroom, I was so nervous that the attendant had to help me with the littlest tasks. She led me to a stall to relieve myself and I was surprised that the toilet was a girl, sealed in white resin, her lower face sculpted into a urinal. I had to straddle the bowl and could feel the warm breath of the girl. I could hear her swallow my golden flow.

I had racked my brains trying to imagine what the Ultimate Bondage would be. Buried alive in a coffin? Someone could dig me up. Entombed in a block of cement? Someone could chisel me out. What place on Earth could Mistress Safia put me where no one could rescue me? Where I could not escape? If she cut off my arms and legs could I worm around? If she severed my spine could new technology re-connect it?

When I left the stall, I discovered that the attendant had laid out some surgical tools on the counter. She placed steel shackles on my wrists, locking them behind my back. She then bade me to sit and when I did, she shackled my ankles.

She then swabbed my cheeks with antiseptic and held up a thick, frightening needle. Before my fear took full effect, she put a huge rubber ball in my mouth and then shoved the needle through my cheek, through the ball and out my other cheek. As tears of wicked pain flooded my eyes, she threaded a heavy rod through the holes in my face, securing the ball in my mouth. It was anchored in placed with two, locking screw balls.

She then stood me up and ushered me out of the rest-room. The first slave, the one with a plate bolting her mouth shut, escorted me, naked, through the house. I shuffled along in my shackles. I was led to a room that struck me as an operating theater. As I took in the room, another slave slipped up beside me and took my arm.

Instead of an operating table, there was a guillotine.

It was when the first slave grabbed my other arm and the two of them held me up that I realized that my legs had given out. My mind clashed wildly with the reality that only death was irreversible, but was that bondage? Would I be restrained in the afterworld? That turning myself over to Mistress Safia was akin to suicide and I would go to hell? So many silly, philosophical thoughts had overwhelmed me that I did not begin to struggle until they started to strap me to the board.

As they slid me into the yoke, I mewed into my gag in protest. I didn't want to die. I was so selfishly clinging to the notion with the blur of panic over my eyes that I didn't even wonder why they were slathering my neck with antiseptic.

I squealed in terror as the heavy yoke was locked down over my neck. My head was forced to look at a mirror where I could see my terrified reflection, and the blade as sharp as winter hovering over it.

Mistress Safia entered dressed in a surgical gown followed by three other women similarly dressed. Mistress Safia wore a surgical mask and I could only see her golden eyes. "Shhhh." She said. "Do not worry little one. You are going to experience the Ultimate Bondage Technique." She stroked my brow and took away my fear.

I had been willing to give up my life for the Ultimate Bondage, I suddenly felt silly for fearing death. I summoned my resolve and prepared for the end, and possibly the afterlife.

She donned protective glasses then looked at me. Her face flashed with a hint of surprise. "Oh, no, little one." She cooed, cupping my cheek. "You're not going to die."

I'm sure my expression of confusion was clear, but she was all smiles. She nodded to her assistant and I heard the blade release. I felt a roar and heard a hiss and lightning flashed blindingly. When I could see, I felt dizzy and the room was moving. I was floating. Mistress Safia's face loomed close, searching for the light in my eyes. I realized that she was holding my disembodied head. I glanced over and saw my body still lying on the bench. They were hooking a cable to the ankle cuffs and hoisting my legs up, draining the blood from my body into a bucket.

Mistress Safia laid me down. All I could see was the bright lights over head and I knew people where buzzing around me and working. My hearing was nothing but static and my vision was greying. I was dying.

Or so I thought.

I drifted in a world of fog for sometime before I heard the charming voice of Mistress Safia calling me. My eyes fluttered open and I saw her beautiful face smiling at me. I went to speak but realized that the ball gag was still in place.

My body felt numb. I could not move in the slightest. Mistress held up a mirror and I realized why. From my neck there was steel post leading to a brace that held my head up. There were a couple hoses pumping fluids into my neck and keeping me alive.