But this was new, a rustle in the bushes nearby. Again, maybe just the wind blowing. If there was someone out there, she sure put on some show didn't she? It was probably Chris, or some psycho ready to kill her. Whoever it was, Brenda was certainly in no position to do anything about it. That was the nice thing about bondage. When your were helpless, there was really no point in worrying about anything. She read once about how prisoners on death row always seemed so calm, because after their 90th appeal or so, they finally realize there's nothing they could do.

"I think it's just the wind, anyway."

Speaking of wind, another breeze came. Brenda leaned forward and arched her back, then she stood on her toes, giving her legs and arms a nice stretch. The robe fell back past her breasts allowing the cool night air to caress her body. Then she relaxed.

"I hope you enjoyed that, whoever you are!"

It wasn't long before Brenda starting getting 'that urge' again.

"There's no way I'm going to be able to just stand here, practically naked and hanging by these chains! Oh, this feels so good!"

She shook her head, clearing it, and tried to think about something else. A bead of sweat rolled from her armpit down the side of her body. She ignored it the best she could. Her mound was really beginning to ache, and muscles in her lower abdomen felt like they were tied up in knots.

"It guess this is what blue balls feels like."

She tried to bring up something else.

"At the grocery store, I need to remember to pick up some hot sauce. Chris loves hot sauce on everything."

She slid down the post a little to give her legs another rest.

"Don't get frisky on me ol' post ol' buddy. Just sit there and let me lean on you for awhile while I look at the scenery."

Another bead of sweat ran down her leg.

"I wonder what they grow out there? Wheat or corn, I imagine. They use up so much of the land around here. It sucks up all of the nutrients. That can't be good. The farmers should know better, but ! guess they'll just keep putting more fertilizer in the ground. Fertilizer . . . mmm, bad word. Next subject."

Brenda twisted her hands in the metal cuffs and they pinched her without mercy.

"Oww!" She almost whispered aloud.

It hurt, but she was glad she didn't speak out loud. Sometimes a voice could be comforting, even if it was your own. This time though, it was better to be as invisible and un-noticeable as she could be. She didn't want anyone to find her like this, except for Chris. Her fingers were starting to grow numb, but every time she tried twisting her hands to get the circulation going, the cuffs would bite harder. Her skin felt damp, sticky. Her leg muscles were beginning to throb now, despite her efforts to relax her body enough to relieve them.

"How long is Chris going to leave me out here? Can't he see that I'm having trouble?"

Her back was really sweating now. She felt a trickle roll down right between her buttocks. Mmmmm, that felt good.

"Stop it! Think about something else."

Nothing came to mind.

"Face it. I've been begging for this. OW! And just how will I go anyway? I was already way out there compared to my friends before this happened. Now I'm first in line for the stupidity award or something!"

Another pair of headlights appeared on the road. This time it was a car, cruising for destinations unknown. Brenda looked back at the post.

"My good 'ol friend, the post. Rubbing it would feel good, I'd never be able to get off though, and I'd probably end up frustrated if I tried."

Her legs were getting tired again, her arms too from being stretched for so long.

"Maybe if I turned around again and lean against the post that way, I could rest a bit." She almost laughed out loud. "Yeah sure. That would be just the excuse you need to start humping the thing."

Time passed . . .

Slowly . . .

She had been a good girl and left the post alone, but she was still turned on.

"I'm ready, come get me Chris."

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to kinda mess with the pole . . . just a little.

"Now I've done some things in my life I thought were kinky, but rubbing myself on a pole? Come on girl, get a grip! OK, so I'm turned on. I'm all tied up and that always gets my motor running. The longer the better, right?"

Brenda sighed heavily and leaned back against the post. She could feel it touching her ass. Spreading her feet apart as far as the ankle chains would allow, she arched her back forward and began shifting her hips, allowing the wood to slip between her cheeks a little. Mmm, that was nice. She began to feel a familiar tingle between her thighs.

"If only my hands weren't chained!"

She was really grinding her ass now, hoping the get something more out of all of this.

"Here I have a perfectly good set of arms, but there isn't a single thing I can do in this world to get them separated to where I can use of them."

She turned again to face the post, putting one leg to either side of it. The handcuffs pulled on her wrists as the chain twisted around itself. Looking up, the cuffs glinted in the moonlight . . . as if the they were winking at her. Brenda smiled a little as she gave into the temptation of pressing her mound against the post.

"Oh yes, it does feel good! I need to stop this though. I will, in just a minute. I promise!"

Her delicate arms looked so pale against the dark wood. How old was this thing anyway? Fifty? A hundred years, maybe? The thought of her young body, pressed . . . no trapped against this ancient fossil was a little titillating.

"You've seen a lot in your long life, my friend, but I'll bet you've never had a woman chained to you like this before, huh?"

She hugged it tight, as much as she could with the cuffs, then moved her feet forward so that her whole body would be pressed firmly against the post.

"Talk about an itch that needs scratching!"

She squeezed her thighs together so she could feel it pressed between them. The robe fluttered uselessly behind her as another breeze kicked up.

"I might not get any rest like this, but WOW does it ever feel good! What a slut I am! The little Catholic girl, sweet and innocent. All chained up!"

She pulled against the wrist cuffs, not to try to escape, but to just feel them more. Her hips gyrated.

"Look at me ma! I'm humping a post! Gross!"

Brenda was doing exactly what she promised herself she wouldn't do, but it felt really good. She was sooo close to getting off! She struggled and pulled against the chains, but all the hip-grinding in the world wasn't going to make her climax. Sad story, but true. For climax, she needed insertion.

"God, this is degrading. I can feel the thing pressed up against my body, touching me all over. One breast against either side, my tummy, my thighs! Oh you miserable post you!"

She put her cheek on the weathered pole and strangely, felt a sensation of comfort.

"Well, Chris put me here to hold me, and it's sure doing that."

She smiled a bit and gently kissed it's wooden hide, then turned around again, feeling somewhat dejected at not getting the orgasm she had worked to hard for. The post felt good on her back and she used it to rub her shoulders. The cuffs were still pinching her wrists, but it didn't feel so bad now that the twist in the chain had been taken out.

"Ok, this is getting old so you can come and save me now. Better get me while I'm turned on, because in a bit, I'm going to start getting mad - and you know what that's like . . ."

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of another vehicle approaching. She held her breath and watched the headlights grow brighter, hoping this time, it might be Chris. It wasn't. A sigh of frustration passed her lips as the pick-up passed by, then disappeared into the night.

Brenda recalled a time as a kid, when her parents used to go out a lot at night - nothing fancy, just out to dinner and maybe a bar afterwards. Mom, God bless her soul, wasn't a drinker, but Dad sure was. Was he ever! Dad would go drinking, and Mom would just tag along to keep him out of trouble. They stayed out late most of the time. They'd drop her off at the neighbors, and when she woke up in the morning, she'd be back in her own bed. She guessed the folks kind of took advantage of the neighbors though. They got tired of them showing up in the middle of the night to get her. Couldn't blame them.

After a while they just went about their business and kind of ignored her while she was there, so Brenda would sit on their porch and wait for her parents to come back. She kind of made a game out of it, guessing which car that passed by would be the one with her folks in it. She'd say to herself, "This is them!" and she'd watch to see if she was right or not. Usually not, so finally she would just curl up on the chair and try to keep warm, then wait, sometimes or hours. Much like she was doing now.