text:
Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories
Long Time Bound 6
by Steve Spandex
© Copyright 2017 - Steve Spandex - Used by permission
Storycodes: FFF/m; F/fm; basement; dungeon; bond; rope; tape; bfold; gag; spandex; captives; struggle; crotchrope; tease; video; climax; stuck; cons/reluct; X
story continued from part five
For me, it all started off as just another routine Friday evening. The cellar of Ann-Marie's house had, over the past couple of years, become quite a familiar haunt of mine. In fact, you could almost call it my second home – at least on most weekends. I knew every square inch of the walls, ceiling, floor, the wooden door and almost every storage box and discarded piece of furniture and other junk that lay scattered about the small, untidy windowless space. Not that I could always see this disorganised clutter, the plain, unpainted plaster that adorned all four sides of this underground chamber, or the bare concrete floor. In fact, I would have to say that most of the time – for me at least – the room was shrouded in darkness. There were two reasons why this could be the case. Either the overhead light was switched off, or else I was blindfolded or hooded… sometimes both.
And today was no exception. With a silk scarf covering my eyes and knotted tightly and securely at the back of my head, I'd then had a black spandex hood pulled down to my neck, ensuring that I remained in a state of blindness for the foreseeable future. Not only had I relinquished my sight, but my ability to speak had also been seriously hampered, as prior to the hood being applied, my mouth had been filled with a pair of Ann-Marie's old tights, before several circuits of clinging grey duct tape had been wound around my lower face and head.
Of course, under normal circumstances, I could have easily been free of the gag, blindfold and hood within seconds of them having been applied. But, as you've probably guessed, the ability to reach up and rid myself of this restrictive headgear had already been nullified, as my hands were of no use to me at the moment.
Having been commanded to stand with my back to the solid wooden pillar which was cemented into both floor and ceiling of this tiny underground room, my hands had been pulled around behind the post and my wrists bound together with strong white rope. This feat had been accomplished with a ruthless efficiency which I had come to expect from my rigger, for Ann-Marie was an expert in the art of bondage, and always ensured that anything she put me in was never going to work loose. Tying the final knot somewhere that my stretching fingers couldn't reach, I was now moored to the post until she decided otherwise.
My hands were not the only part of my anatomy to receive the rope treatment, of course. Firstly my ankles had been bound tightly together, before two more leg bonds had been put in place; one just below, the other just above my knees. Then more strict cords had been applied, in order to lash my already useless legs to the pillar. Lastly, even more of the seemingly endless supply of rope was wound around my body, from shoulders to abdomen, to make certain that the wooden mooring post and I would remain as one until such time as Ann-Marie saw fit to release me.
And that wasn't going to be for a long time yet, although just how long I would have to wait exactly, I had no idea at present.
So there I was, expertly and inescapably tied to this immovable anchorage, with nothing to take my mind off my predicament - which was exactly as I wanted it. As was customary for these regular bondage sessions, I had dressed in my favourite attire prior to my incarceration. Firstly, I'd pulled on a pair of silky soft women's black tights that shimmered in the light as I walked in them. Over these I'd then pulled on one of my super-snug black spandex cat-suits, which covered me from ankle to neck in a clinging second skin. I have always loved the feel of tight spandex against my flesh, and these cat-suits – really designed to be worn as women's dancewear – were the ultimate in luxury as far as I was concerned. Now thus attired, and shoeless, with feet protected only by the tights and the cat-suit's stirrups, I was ready and willing for my captivity to begin.
Ann-Marie and I had come to an arrangement several years ago, which suited both of us. Although mildly interested in bondage, she had no real appetite for the long sessions of continual sensory deprived incarceration that I yearned for. But she was a great rigger! As I've already mentioned, she did have some affinity with the application of ropes and other bondage materials, and had become something of an expert in the methods and techniques of securing me as tightly and securely as I craved. This was due mainly to the fact that, over the years, I had pestered and badgered her to tie me up at every opportunity, until she'd learnt what worked and what didn't. She'd also gleaned that, with me tied up to a standard that I was satisfied with, she would get some peace and quiet for a while.
And so, over the course of time, the cellar of Ann-Marie's house had become my dungeon; where I could be left happily trussed and tethered in my own little isolation chamber, whilst she got on with her life. One rule that I had always insisted on during these sessions, was that there should be no prearranged limit to my time as a prisoner, and that it was at Ann-Marie's discretion when she released me from my bonds. And over the course of the years, the duration of these stints in bondage had sometimes grown to epic lengths, with me being entirely helpless in my underground cell for several days at a time.
So on this particular Friday night, I had no reason to think that this was going to be anything but the normal marathon spell of captivity. I had been left here around two hours ago by my estimation, and unless Ann-Marie decided that this was to be one of our shorter sessions (which occasionally happened, but not often), then she wouldn't be returning until tomorrow morning, and then probably only to check that I was okay, give me a drink and perhaps a little food, and possibly bind me in some other position (a hog-tie maybe). So I had plenty of time on my hands.
One of my favourite activities, when I know that I'm tied to perfection, is struggling. Being encased in tight spandex, the sensation every time you move a muscle, or your legs rub together, brings about not only a delightful swishing sound, but also an indescribably delicious sensation of constriction and restraint. And the fact that you can't move your limbs, or break free from the strict, unforgiving ropes, all adds up to a wonderfully helpless experience (If you don't believe me, try it sometime).
So it was with some surprise - and not a little dismay - that, after such a short spell of incarceration, I heard footsteps on the stone stairs that led down to my subterranean hideaway. Surely freedom wasn't going to be inflicted upon me so soon. But wait, wasn't that voices I could hear? Up until now, neither Ann-Marie or I had ever mentioned our little arrangement to anyone else – at least I had assumed she'd kept her side of the bargain to remain silent about my strange penchant for being tied up. But now, if she hadn't already spilled the beans, it seemed that very soon my secret would be revealed to… who exactly?
As the sounds drew nearer, it was clear that, as well as Ann-Marie, there were at least two other people with her. And from the pitch of their voices, both were clearly female. Seconds later I heard a key turn in the lock, followed by a door creaking open and the flick of a light switch. The gasps of wonder, the faint rustling of clothing, the clicking of heels on the hard floor, and the distinct sensation of the presence of several figures close at hand, all conspired to give me the feeling that I was being closely scrutinised, like an exhibit in a museum. I received the impression of someone circling around me, as if trying to take in every angle of this strange sight before them.
"Wow, he is really tightly tied, isn't he? How long has he been here?"
The sound of this delightfully playful female voice was immediately followed by the sensation of the ropes around my wrists being grabbed by a pair of soft, warm hands; although to my great relief, it became apparent immediately that this action was not an attempt to release me from my bonds, but merely done to test the efficiency of Ann-Marie's handiwork. She had obviously passed this examination with flying colours.
"Just over two hours so far. As I told you earlier, Steve loves being bound up like this for hours on end."
As Ann-Marie responded to the questioner, I felt the spandex hood that smothered my head and face begin to shift, and soon this had risen upwards and been removed completely. Within seconds, the scarf too was loosened from around my face and all of a sudden I was confronted with a brightness that for a while blinded me. As my vision gradually adjusted to the change in illumination, I gazed out at Ann-Marie, dressed as she had been before in white t-shirt and tight blue jeans, together with two other females I had never encountered before. Ann-Marie stood closest to me, with the hood and scarf still in her hand.
"Allow me to introduce you properly. Steve, this is Ruth… "
She gestured in the direction of the girl standing furthest away from me, to my left. I briefly took in the fact that she was short, with long dark curly hair that reached to her shoulders. She was wearing a baggy sweat shirt and black leggings. But as Ann-Marie continued with her introductions, all thoughts of this woman soon dissipated from my thoughts.
"… and this is Cindy."
As I gazed at the second woman, I felt my heart skip a beat. Cindy was around the same height as myself, or maybe an inch or so shorter. She had long blonde hair cascading around her shoulders, framing a face with beautifully mischievous sparkling eyes, and a gorgeous smile. Her slim figure was clothed in a white, almost see-through silk blouse that highlighted her perfectly formed breasts. Below her waist, a short black skirt gave way to slender legs sheathed in shimmering black tights.
"Ruth, Cindy, this is Steve."
I barely heard Ann-Marie complete her introductions, so besotted had I become with this vision before me who had now been given a name… Cindy. And a second or two later, the evening got even better, as this gorgeous creature took a step towards me and opened her mouth.
"Pleased to meet you Steve. I just love the look. Ann-Marie was just telling us about how you spend most weekends down here, so I asked if we could come and see what it was about. I hope you don't mind the intrusion?"
It was immediately apparent that it was she who had earlier commented on my state of bondage. She was within a few inches of my face now, and the sense of mischievous intrigue in her eyes sent a shiver of pleasure through me. Down below, I felt my cock stiffen and push longingly against the spandex of my cat-suit, and if any of the women present had aimed their gaze downwards at that precise moment, they would undoubtedly have noticed my excitement too. Provocatively, Cindy placed her hand on my chest. She giggled softly; not a malicious laugh, more an acknowledgement that she could empathise with my situation and understood why I was enjoying my bondage. Our eyes met, and I gazed into those deep green pools and realised that she might just be the bondage soul mate that I had been hunting for.
From somewhere – seemingly a long way away – I heard the other woman speak for the first time.
"Okay, so he likes being tied up and left that way. So what? Can we go back upstairs now please? It's cold down here and the movie will be starting in a few minutes. Just leave him here if he enjoys this sort of thing so much."
It was clear that Ruth wasn't interested one iota in some guy who enjoyed being rendered helpless and being kept that way for long periods of time. And it seemed for a few seconds that Ann-Marie was about to take her friend's advise, as she began readying the scarf to once more bind around my head. Cindy, however, had other ideas.
"You know something Annie? I wouldn't mind spending a bit of time down here with Steve, if you don't mind. I think we could have quite a lot of fun together."
If I could have spoken, I would have wholeheartedly endorsed what seemed an excellent suggestion, although at that moment I hadn't quite taken on board the full implications of what Cindy was actually alluding to. Because at that time I was assuming that she merely meant to stay down here with me and – hopefully – tease and torment me with her hands and body. I hadn't realised then that what she was asking for was to join me in being inescapably bound and gagged. And nor had Ann-Marie, it seemed.
"Okay Cindy, if that's what you really want. I'm sure Steve will be pleased to have some company. But under no circumstances are you to untie him."
Without looking at the speaker, Cindy took a little step closer to me, until her body was rubbing seductively against mine. Her sparkling eyes were now within three inches of my own. She giggled playfully.
"Oh no Annie, you misunderstand me. I want to be able to experience inescapable bondage, just like Steve's."
By now I could hardly contain my excitement. And as Cindy's abdomen slowly slid against mine, I was sure that she could feel this too. But Ann-Marie had yet to be convinced that this was a good idea.
"Really Cindy? Are you sure you know what you're letting yourself in for? Steve's here for the rest of the night, if not longer, and if you choose to join him, you'll be here for the duration too. You do understand that, don't you? Once I leave this room, that's it. I won't be coming back for a very long time."
I was half expecting Cindy to pull out at this point, as she discovered the length of time that she would have to remain tied up. So I couldn't believe my luck when she responded positively to Ann-Marie's words of caution.
"That's fine by me. I've never told anyone this before, but I've always secretly had a yearning to be tied up. So this is too good an opportunity to pass up."
Ann-Marie sighed.
"Okay Cindy, if that' what you really want. Who am I to stand in your way?"
Ann-Marie walked over to the box in which I knew the ropes, tape, straps and a cornucopia of other bondage paraphernalia were stored. She picked up a coiled length of rope and began to unwind it. To my delight, Cindy turned around, put her hands behind her back and submissively offered her wrists up to be bound. My mind was reeling with delight at this turn of events, which I had never envisaged happening in a million years. There was, however, one more stumbling block, which now threatened to derail the whole process.
"Don't be an idiot Cindy, I know what'll happen. You'll be tied up for five minutes, then get bored and start screaming to be let out again. Which will mean we'll miss most of the film and the evening will be ruined. Come on girls, there are bottles of good wine just waiting to be consumed. Forget this nonsense and come back upstairs."
Ruth was hovering in the cellar doorway, apparently completely disinterested in the strange scenario that was taking shape in front of her. Luckily, Ann-Marie saw that Cindy's eagerness to try a bit of bondage was genuine, and didn't let herself become distracted by her friend's plea.
"It's okay Ruth. You go upstairs, open some wine and pause the television when the film is about to start. I'll be up in a few minutes once I've got Cindy all trussed up and helpless."
For a second or two, Ruth stared at the players in this peculiar game that she wanted no part of; first at Ann-Marie, then at Cindy, and finally at me. Still unsure of what to make of all this, she at last realised that she was in a minority of one when it came to voting on whether this odd game should go ahead or not. With a slightly bewildered look on her face, she turned and made a beeline for the door; turning her head once along the way, a look that portrayed a mixture of disgust and confusion in equal measure etched on her features.
Once she'd disappeared from sight, Cindy once more held out her wrists behind her back, as if keen to feel the entwining ropes pressing into her flesh. Ann-Marie duly obliged, and I watched in fascination and anticipation as she began to bind my gorgeous new bondage playmate with an expertise that I knew from experience would render Cindy helpless in a matter of seconds.
Cindy's girlish laughter was, I was swiftly coming to realise, infectious. And during the process of transmutation from total freedom to complete inescapable captivity, she giggled almost incessantly as rope after rope gradually restricted her ability to move of her own free will. After her wrists had been dealt with, Ann-Marie pulled her arms as closely together as she could manage, and commenced roping them into a strict elbow tie. Being slim and supple, Cindy's elbows were almost touching each other by the time Ann-Marie had cinched and knotted the now strict cord. But if Cindy was experiencing any discomfort from this stringent fetter, she showed no signs of it, instead laughing even louder as she tested the efficiency of her bonds and found them tight and secure.
With Cindy's arms now out of commission, Ann-Marie wasted no time in ensuring that her new recruit to the world of bondage would experience the full range of her skills. Before this could happen, however, she relieved Cindy of her tight mini skirt ("You won't be needing this for a while"), and I was greeted with the sight of the full length of my co-captive's shapely legs in their silky smooth tights, which shimmered slightly as they caught the light from the bulb overhead. I was overjoyed at the sight before me, but events were happening so fast that my mind was soon diverted away from Cindy's exquisite legs and back to the ropes that Ann-Marie produced from her stash.
Firstly, she looped a rope around Cindy's slim waist, created reverse tension and tightened the rope as strictly as possible. Pulling the remainder of the rope through her legs from back to front, Ann-Marie looped this over the waist rope and yanked as hard as she could. A gasp of surprise issued involuntarily from Cindy's mouth, as the crotch rope dug deeply upwards into her, although this didn't appear to be an exclamation of pain or discomfort, but simply acknowledged the unexpected nature of this intrusive cord. With this bond now secured to her satisfaction, Ann-Marie allowed the two ends of the rope to swing loosely in front of her compliant subject. Both ends of this residual length reached to the floor with several inches to spare, which informed me that Ann-Marie had used one of her longer pieces of rope to fashion the crotch rope. Why this should be, at that moment I had no idea, although I was certain that there must be a good reason for this. All would become clear within a few minutes, however.
Now Ann-Marie went to work on ensuring that Cindy's legs could no longer be used as a means of locomotion. Firstly relieving her of her shoes, Ann-Marie leant the now helplessly trapped female against the wall, then used all her expertise to swiftly and efficiently apply a tightly secured cord around her ankles, before adding two more equally movement inhibiting ropes just below and just above her knees. With her limbs now beyond redemption, Cindy tested her severely restricted state by hopping two steps into the middle of the room and balancing precariously unaided on closely bound feet. Once more that girlish giggle filled the room as she tossed her head back, sending her lovely long silky hair cascading in a tangled avalanche around her shoulders.
"Wow this feels great. I could never get free of this on my own."
I'm not sure whether Ann-Marie had already come to a decision about tying Cindy and me together to create one single bound entity prior to Cindy's prompting, or whether this was all my co-captive's brainchild. But I watched in a state bordering on ecstasy as Cindy now wasted no time in hopping as close to me as she could, until our bodies were pressed hard against each other, leaving Ann-Marie in no doubt as to how she wanted to be tied.
"Make sure you tie us as closely together as you can, Annie, so that I can experience the same degree of immobility as Steve."
To my utter joy, Ann-Marie was on the case almost immediately. Winding another length of rope around both our upper bodies just below our armpits, and also incorporating the post behind me into the lasso, within seconds Cindy's lovely round breasts were squashed close to my chest, with no room for either of us to move away… even if we'd wanted to. Another similar bond was placed a few inches further down, followed by a third around our waists, so that our torsos would remain conjoined until further notice. As this was going on, Cindy's face and mine were no more than an inch or two apart. I could smell her sweet perfume and gaze into her enticingly gorgeous eyes as we became ever more entwined.
Putting her mouth close to my ear, she whispered,"This is going to be so much fun."
That lovely seductive giggle filled the room again, but it appeared that not everyone present was so enamoured with the sound of Cindy's laughter. Having finished strapping us together from shoulder to waist, Ann-Marie decided to put a stop to this frivolity.
"If you want to be tied up like Steve, Cindy, I'm going to have to gag you like he is too. After all, I wouldn't want you conspiring to escape."
Ann-Marie grabbed a pair of her old tights, of which she kept many with her other bondage materials, and quickly fashioned them into a neat ball. Cindy offered no resistance as they were offered up to her lips, but merely opened her mouth as Ann-Marie pushed them into the cavity behind her teeth. Wasting no time, she then immediately began winding circuit after adhesive circuit of grey duct tape across Cindy's face and around her head. Smoothing this down, she returned to her previous task of ensuring that we were packed tightly together.
As more rope was wrapped around her combined forms just below our buttocks, Cindy giggled again as her circumstances became ever more inescapable, only now the sound was muffled and distorted by her layered gag. Those smiling eyes, which I was swiftly falling in love with, continued to convey the message that she was taking immense pleasure from our joint captivity, and the provocative rubbing and wiggling of her body against mine was getting me excited all over again… not that I'd ever really cooled off since this whole unexpected turn of events had begun.
Ann-Marie completed the task of binding our lower limbs into one compact package by circling rope around our ankles, knees and thighs. With these bonds now in place, the enforced friction of the spandex of my cat-suit against Cindy's tights, created a soft swishing sound every time either one of us moved. And Cindy did try to alter her position a lot; seemingly keen to experiment with her inability to move and eager to experience every possible sensation she could eke out from the close proximity of our shared confinement. By this stage, I had assumed that Ann-Marie's work had come to a conclusion, such was the nature of our captivity. But I was soon to discover that she had one more loose end to tie up.
Reaching into the now extremely limited gap between our torsos, our rigger grabbed the rope that she'd left hanging at Cindy's waist. Quickly encircling this around the post at my back, she looped the ends through the stringent ropes of my wrist bonds, before bringing the ends back around to their starting point. Pushing her hand in between us was a tight squeeze, but somehow Ann-Marie not only managed to loop the ends back around the rope that encircled Cindy's waist, but also somehow succeeded in knotting this off securely. Moving around behind me again, I felt her pull on this latest bond at the point where it joined my wrist rope. As she did so Cindy gasped, as the crotch rope evidently dug deeply into her. The message was clear; I could, with the slightest movement of my bound hands, cause a similar reaction in my bondage playmate.
With her work now at an end, Ann-Marie prepared to leave.
"I have to say that you do make a lovely couple all trussed up together like that. I won't blindfold either of you, or turn off the light, as I'm sure you'll enjoy gazing into each other's helpless eyes over the course of the next few hours. Have fun."
And with that she was gone, shutting and locking the door behind her. Through the ceiling, the sound of the television could faintly be heard, together with the sound of Ann-Marie conversing with Ruth. Their words were unintelligible from this range, but both could be heard laughing soon after Ann-Marie's departure, and my guess was that the joke was somehow connected to the predicament of the bound couple in the dungeon beneath their feet.
For a minute or more, both Cindy and I tentatively tested the efficiency of our dual bondage. There was no denying that it was impossible for either of us to escape, and from Cindy's continued propensity to snigger into her gag, I think it would be fair to say that neither of us would have wanted it any other way. Cindy's incessant rubbing of her gorgeous body against mine had me in a perpetual state of arousal, and with our abdomens secured so closely to each other's, it would have been impossible for her not to feel my cock thrusting against the spandex of my cat-suit in an effort to get ever nearer to her. And I knew that if her hips continued to work their magic, then I would be reaching my climax sooner rather than later. But what was Cindy getting out of all this? So engrossed had I become in getting off myself, that my stupid male brain had forgotten that my partner's crotch rope was in easy reach of my fingers. Cindy soon reminded me, however, with a soft muffled plea that seeped barely intelligibly through her gag. The message was clear: "Pull on the rope" she purred.
Inserting my stretching finger through the rope looped around my own wrist bond, I complied with her request, and a split second later Cindy's gasp of pleasure told me that I must be doing something right. Jerking the rope in harmony with Cindy's thrusting hips, we soon built up a rhythm that coalesced into a combined explosion of ecstatic delight. With perfect timing, we both climaxed at precisely the same moment, as our bodies writhed against the tight bonds that held us in such wonderful restraint.
With our energies momentarily spent, Cindy leant her head into the angle of my shoulder and neck, where I could sense the gentle exhalations from her nostrils. She sighed and purred with contentment. I wanted so much to be able to kiss her there and then, but the tape that sealed my mouth made this untenable. For several minutes, we remained in a state of contemplation, neither of us moving. I could feel the soft beat of Cindy's heart against my ribs and felt the softness of her hair against my face. At that moment everything seemed so right, that I found myself hoping that Ann-Marie wouldn't bother looking in on us for a very long time.
After what must have been somewhere between two and three hours, the sound of feet on the steps leading down to the cellar reverberated around the stone walls, floor and ceiling. By this time, Cindy and I had repeated our earlier performance on two further occasions, and each time the sensation seemed to increase in intensity as we explored our enforced intimacy to the limits of our somewhat curbed capabilities. So Ann-Marie's reappearance was not something that I particularly craved, and nor, it seemed from the sad look that she gave me, did Cindy. But it would soon became apparent that we needn't have worried, as releasing us from the tight and unbreakable bonds which she had so expertly placed us in, was not the purpose of our captor's visit.
Ann-Marie strolled around the room, checking us over from every angle, a smug smile on her face as she did so. Then, after this brief visual inspection, she came closer and began checking each bond in greater detail; making certain that none had slipped or worked loose, and retying any that she felt weren't secure enough. Only after this thorough examination did she break her silence.
"Well you two, looks like you're getting well acquainted. How is it for you Cindy? Is everything as exciting and wonderful as you hoped it would be? I do hope Steve is helping you get the most from this whole experience."
Cindy nodded and a muffled confirmation slipped through the packing in her mouth. Ann-Marie turned her attention to me.
"And what about you Steve? How are you enjoying Cindy's company? When she mentioned earlier that she had a strange fascination with being tied up, I knew that you'd get on well together. I hope you're pleased with your first few hours together."
Pleased?! I was over the moon with everything that had happened tonight, and I hoped that the noise that emanated from my equally well stuffed and taped mouth conveyed this message sufficiently. Ann-Marie seemed to get the gist.
"Good, because I've decided that you're both staying here for the rest of the night. I hope you don't mind… "
Then she added, with a deliciously evil smile on her face,
"… and even if you do, it's too bad, because my mind's made up on the matter. In fact, we've got a little surprise up our sleeves for you."
I guessed that the 'we' she spoke of referred to Ruth and herself, although what this 'surprise' could possibly be I had no idea. However, Ann-Marie soon began to explain.
"You see, Ruth and I have been having a discussion about ropes, gags and all things bondage while you've been enjoying yourselves down here. But try as I might, I just can't get her to understand and appreciate the fascination of being tied up for long periods of time. Some people are like that, I'm afraid. She just can't see why anyone would get excited by being rendered helpless, no matter how much I try to enlighten her. I've tried to tell her that there are a lot of people out there who are into bondage in a big way, but she's not having any of it. And she certainly doesn't think that anybody else would be in the least bit interested in seeing you both tied up like this, and even if they did have an opinion on the subject, she's sure they'd instantly take pity on you and call for your release."
As she spoke, the sound of descending footsteps was quickly followed by the sight of Ruth entering the cellar. In her hand, I noticed she was carrying her mobile phone.
"So what we've decided to do is try a little experiment. In fact we've put some money on the outcome; £50 to whoever turns out to be correct. We're going to make a video, as well as taking a few photos of the two of you in all your bound up splendour; either struggling for freedom or canoodling in the throes of ecstasy, whichever takes your fancy. Then we're going to post the results on a few social media sites, such as Facebook, Twitter and YouTube. We're going to ask the people who view these posts to give their opinions, and we'll be asking them one simple question: Should we untie you straightaway, or should we keep you bound and gagged for the rest of the weekend? We'll give it until midday tomorrow, then count up the votes. If the majority of people take pity on you and say that you should be released, then you'll be set free immediately and Ruth will have won the bet. On the other hand, if the public think that you must be enjoying yourself and that you'd be happy to stay the way you are, I'll have proved my point and we'll just have to keep you here until Sunday evening."
Just as Ruth raised her phone and started taking still pictures from every angle, Ann-Marie produced her own phone from the pocket of her jeans and began videoing.
"So how do you think the public will vote? To set you free or to leave you all trussed up? I'm fairly sure I know the answer. After all, there are a lot of sadistic folk out there who love to see others suffer."
Cindy looked at me wide-eyed for a second or two, as if unsure of what to make of this unforeseen twist in the tale, and mortified that we were going to be displayed to the world at large in such an embarrassing and compromising situation. But suddenly, she seemed to see the funny side and giggled into her gag. For my part, I too initially had reservations about being made a laughing stock for the amusement of the general public, especially as this would almost certainly include people I knew; people who had been oblivious to my bondage and spandex obsessions… up until now. But as Cindy began to once more rub herself against me in the most provocative way imaginable, I found myself grabbing the rope that ultimately ran between her legs, and began to pull as hard as I could on it. I figured that if we were going to be made into items of ridicule, then at least we might as well enjoy ourselves in the process!
For what must have been around five minutes, Ann-Marie continued to film our every move, as we thrashed around in our severely inhibited state. As we reached our joint climax once more, I knew that there was no way the public would vote to set us free, but quite honestly, I didn't care. The idea of spending the next forty eight hours or so in the company of this wonderfully attractive woman was most definitely something that I could easily come to terms with.
"Okay, I think I've got all the footage I need. Ruth and I will go and upload these images, then let the people have their say. It's getting late now, and I'm sure we've disturbed you enough already. Ruth will be going home soon and I'll be off to bed, so I'll see you in the morning. Have a great night!"
Absentmindedly, Ann-Marie turned out the light as she left the room, plunging us into darkness.
It was 10:17 AM when Ann-Marie next visited our humble prison cell.
How do I know this so precisely? Because that was the time shown in the bottom right hand corner of Ann-Marie's laptop screen when she turned the light on the following morning. She tutted and shook her head as she gazed at the screen, which she was holding so that we initially had no view of the display.
"Well, it looks as if I've been proved correct. Ruth isn't going to be very pleased when she sees the messages that people have been posting."
She turned the screen around and held it up to our eye level. It was immediately obvious that the website we were viewing was YouTube, and the moving image in the top left quarter of the screen was clearly the performance Cindy and I had given the night before. And it would have been fairly obvious that, from the sounds emanating from the laptop and the synchronised thrusting and jerking of our bodies, that we were having quite a wild time together. Below this, it was apparent that several viewers had commented on our antics, although from this distance it was impossible to read what had been written. Ann-Marie sighed and smiled.
"I know that there's still more than an hour and a half left before voting closes, but I have to say, things aren't looking too good for you at the moment… at least if you were hoping to get out of here anytime soon."
She turned the screen away from us and began counting.
"So far, there have been twenty one comments left on YouTube alone, and guess what? None of them have called for your release."
She smiled a big gloating smile.
"That's right, everyone so far has voted to keep you tied up. There are comments like 'they look to be enjoying themselves so much, it would be a shame to let them go' and 'leave 'em there all weekend, they deserve it'. Some people are even suggesting that you should be tied up even tighter. And it's the same on the other sites too – everyone thinks you should be left bound and gagged together for the duration of the weekend. I think that's what's known as a unanimous verdict"
She closed the lid of the laptop down, then began unpeeling the tape from my face. Removing the rolled up tights from my mouth, she offered a bottle of mineral water to my lips for a few seconds, before once more stuffing the bundled up hosiery back inside and applying fresh tape around my head. The whole event took no more than a couple of minutes, and so grateful was I for the refreshing liquid, that even if I'd wanted to, there had really been no opportunity to remonstrate with her about our ongoing predicament. With my mouth once again sealed, Cindy was also encouraged to take in the soothing liquid, before once more being silenced. With the drinks break now over, as she'd done last night, Ann-Marie walked around us, checking that no bond had in any way come loose.
"So there you have it. I'd like to let you go, but the public have had their say… so what can I do? My hands are tied, so to speak… Oh no, sorry, I guess that was a bit of an insensitive thing to say given your current state."
She reached the door, and was halfway through before delivering her farewell address.
"Don't worry though, you seem to have been engaging with each other splendidly so far, so there's no reason for you not to continue to get to know each other for the rest of the weekend. I'm sure you'll find plenty of ways to amuse yourselves. I imagine that crotch rope will be getting quite a bit more use in the near future."
This time the light remained on, although the sound of the key turning in the lock had a certain finality about it, which seemed to imply that it would be a long time before she once again returned. For a second or two, Cindy's eyes widened and for the first time I sensed that she was uncomfortable with the timeframe that we were faced with, and that this unease might give way to panic. I tried to make some soothing noises through my gag, however, and this seemed to calm her down to a certain extent, although I could still discern the seeds of dread in her demeanour. Looking into my eyes, she shifted nervously and mumbled what I interpreted as "What are we going to do?"
What indeed? There seemed only one solution as far as I could ascertain. Twisting my hand around, I hooked my fingers through her crotch rope and pulled as hard as I could on it. There was a low squeal from my partner's filled mouth, and as I watched, the fear drained from her eyes and a smile returned to the portion of her face not covered with tape. That was more like the Cindy I'd grown to love. As my beautiful bound companion began to thrust her pelvis against mine, I felt the first stirrings of an erection strain against my spandex attire. The next day and a half was going to be filled with endless pleasure. I just knew it.
Postscript:
Over the next few weeks, Cindy and I cemented our relationship – both in and out of bondage. And most Friday nights we would visit Ann-Marie's house and allow her to tie us up in a state of shared bondage that never failed to be anything other than a truly phenomenal experience.
And now, at the very moment that you are reading this story, Ann-Marie has us all tied up together in her cellar in almost identical fashion to the methods employed on our first night together. And once more, she has decided that the public should decide whether they want us to remain in this secure and inescapable state of captivity for the foreseeable future, or whether they want to free us. This time, however, instead of a video and photographs on social media, she has decreed that you, the readers of this story on Gromet's Plaza, should have the final say. Another difference on this occasion is that there is no time limit. We will, according to our rigger, be kept in strict bondage until such a time as the votes to release us outnumber those calling for our continued incarceration. Ann-Marie will monitor the situation over the coming days to see which verdict is decided upon.
So, dear reader, all you have to do is visit the Plaza Forum and leave your thoughts, opinions and comments on whether you would like us to be set us free or kept tied up.
Or, to put it a different way, do you want me to spend the next few days bound up in intimate and inseparable close contact with the body of a truly beautiful female, with no possibility of escape or rescue? Or would you rather that we were set free?
I think you can probably guess which verdict I'm hoping for. And I believe that Cindy is also of the same opinion.
Our fate is in your hands.
Please vote wisely.
selfbondage stories


LIDL is selling 10 McDonald's-style chicken nuggets for just £1.69 - half the price of the fast food version.
Shoppers reckon it's hard to taste the difference between the budget supermarket's version and the £3.19 pack of nine from the restaurant chain.
Just like at Maccie D's, the Lidl nuggets come with dips - curry and sweet chilli - and the box they come in certainly looks very familiar.
Unlike many supermarket chicken nuggets, the Lidl ones are chilled, not frozen, meaning less cooking time.
But you'd better be quick if you want to try them.
According to a Lidl employee, the nuggets are one of the store's limited edition products.
She posted on the 10 Ways to Have More Money Facebook page: "Just so you're all aware, it isn't something we sell regularly.
"It's a special offer so once it's gone it's gone. Grab them while you can because they are delicious!"
Another member of the Facebook group claimed that the Lidl nuggets are actually "the same" as the fast food chain ones.
They wrote on the site: "They are actually the same as the McDonald's ones but are the 'rejected' nuggets usually because they don't fit the four shapes that McDonald's sell boot ball bell and bow tie (I worked there for nearly 10 years)."
While we can't confirm or deny that, the fact that the post has generated 900 shares, 3,000 reactions and 11,000 comments certainly suggests that they're worth a go!
Earlier this year we revealed that Lidl is selling a new version of its award-winning gin and it looks very similar to a fancy bottle that's double the price.
Last week we told how McDonald's fans can bag themselves an adult-sized Big Mac onesie for FREE if they order a McDonald's delivery from participating restaurants via the UberEATS app tomorrow (July 26).


Foam containers are popular with many restaurants still, but they are hard to recycle and easily end up as litter.
Maryland's three-year effort built on public opinion that reached a "tipping point."
Maryland is expected to become the first U.S. state to ban foam food packaging, takeout containers and cups—and the latest in a growing worldwide effort to ban various disposable single-use plastic products.
The new proposed law passed both of the state's legislative chambers this week with enough votes to override a potential veto signed by Gov. Larry Hogan, who has not publicly signaled whether he supports the law or not. The law would become the latest in a growing effort worldwide to ban an assortment of disposable, single-use plastic products, due to their impacts on the environment. Hogan reportedly has six days to sign or veto the law.
Prior to the statewide ban effort, Maryland's two most populous counties—Prince George's and Montgomery, which both border Washington, D.C.—had already banned foam packaging.
Del. Brooke Lierman (D-Baltimore), who sponsored similar legislation last year and in 2017, says changing public opinion helped her third attempt succeed (it was approved 100-37 in the House of Delegates).
The new law would ban foam food packaging for products packaged in-state, including restaurants, cafes, food trucks, and grocery stores. The final version of the bill includes exceptions, such as meat. The ban would go into force on July 1, 2020 and would carry fines of $250.
The legislation was opposed by the Maryland Retailers Association, which warned that outlawing foam packaging could hurt small businesses by saddling them with higher costs. Foam packaging remains popular among restaurants and the food industry because it is lightweight, inexpensive, and keeps hot food and beverages hot.
Related: How to use less plastic on vacation Cutting back on single-use plastics might be easier than you think. Here are four things travel writer, Marie McGrory, learned from a weeklong experiment in Belize. Click here for more tips.
Foam food containers have been banned in cities or counties in 11 states, including Seattle, Portland, Ore., Washington D.C., San Francisco, and numerous other cities in California. A ban in New York City took effect at the beginning of this year after a lengthy legal battle ended last summer.
Baltimore's famous Mr. Trash Wheel, a floating device that picks up waste from the harbor, is reported to collect an average of 14,000 Styrofoam containers a month, which is said to be second only to cigarettes.


text:
BoMoms
Alex Beam
A textbook case of piracy
By Alex Beam
Globe Columnist / September 8, 2008
Single Page|
I was heartened to learn that college kids are wielding the same Internet piracy tools they used to bring down the recording industry to download textbooks. Although the textbook oligopolists are fighting back mightily - the Association of American Publishers uses Covington & Burling, a take-no-prisoners law firm in Washington, D.C., to hunt down malefactors - there are at least two sites still around offering books: Textbook Torrents tends to be shut down, and moves around the Web, but the last time I checked, thepiratebay.org was offering such books as - well, you'll see.
As a writer, how can I support this? I should be an absolutist on copyright protection for all books, magazines, and newspapers. But I'm not. The publishers have disgraced themselves, and they are paying the price. Three-hundred-dollar textbooks in the hard sciences are not unusual, and the companies are selling to a captive audience. Hundred-dollar add-ons, masquerading as digital workbooks, or problem-solving sets, are not uncommon.
Publishers love to put out bogus "new" editions to drive a stake though the heart of the used textbook market, which was gaining its second wind at online auction sites. It's not as if calculus changed since Newton invented it, is the rallying cry you hear from student activists.
How do I know textbook publishers are nothing but pirates in pin-striped suits? Because when the fast-buck artists take over a company like Houghton Mifflin, they never talk about how proud they are to be publishing Philip Roth and J.R.R. Tolkien. They know they are going to make a killing in the profit-choked textbook division, which gorges on the goodwill of parents who want their children to be properly equipped for college courses.
Now most textbook publishers are going digital, and Amazon is promising a larger-format Kindle reader for the student market. The publishers say that iTexts, which often cost less than $100, save students money. But their opponents, led by a coalition of Student Public Interest Research Groups, point out that the password-protected digi-texts put the sword to the used-book market so despised by the publishers.
Congress has gotten into the act, legislating more "transparency" in textbook pricing in the just-passed Higher Education Opportunity Act. It looks like a jumble of half-measures to me. If it had any teeth, the publishers would be squawking madly.
A young Northeastern University student named Shawn Fanning wrung billions of dollars of excess profits from the record companies when he invented Napster. Yes, it's true that recording "artists" now gouge young people 10 times more aggressively at the concert turnstiles than they ever did at Tower Records stores, which no longer exist around here. But Steve Jobs found the right price point for music at iTunes. Between the pirates and the publishers, we'll find our way to the right price point for textbooks, too.
Now it's time to arbitrage . . . tuition.
Don't steal this book
Inevitably, a reviewer will call John Hanson Mitchell, author of "The Paradise of All These Parts: A Natural History of Boston," a latter-day Henry David Thoreau, not necessarily a compliment. Call him what you will - in real life, he edits the Massachusetts Audubon Society magazine Sanctuary - he is a smart guy, walking around, paying attention. I'd name his genre nostalgic realism; Mitchell certainly knows where this city and its many peculiar institutions come from, and he understands modernity as well.
I love that his brother owns a boat named after Richard Henry Dana, and that it doesn't have an engine - there's Boston in a nutshell. I think this book will take its place next to Walter Muir Whitehill's "Boston," with engravings by Rudolph Ruzicka, as one of the treasured Hub tomes of our time.
Able was I . . .
Ere I saw Alaska? Send in your Sarah Palin-dromes! A palindrome is a phrase that makes sense read forward and backward - e.g., "Madam, I'm Adam." I think there's a lot to work with here: Is Levi vile? Close, but no cigar. I'll buy the winner a used copy of the kind of book that Governor Palin wanted to keep out of her local library - "Huckleberry Finn," perhaps.
Alex Beam is a Globe columnist. His e-dress is beam@globe.com.T
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redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


We had an adventure. That much is true, and the full story will be shared as soon as the emotional packs are emptied and the thoughts are composed.
We made new friends, and but one of those stories is shared at this moment. The young friend pictured here who I will simply refer to as "The Sherpa" was one of our two guides on this mountain trek. His story inspired me, and his love for our Savior is evident.
As #1 son and I hoofed our way home yesterday, a flood of tunes library memories were conjured up as the music kept me alert and winging my way back home. As the Mark Schultz tune "When Mountains Fall" played on, my thoughts were on the Sherpa. It could almost be as if this song were written just for him.
Thanks are in order, to both the Sherpa (and the Sherpette). They showed us Ptarmigan (a Ute Indian name for a bird), and we are learning to fly.


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Apple teaches an old design new tricks Apple teaches an old design new tricks by Lori Grunin. Ah, I do medical researching in various books and websites on the net.
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Sony DSC-RX100 III HD 4K XAVC S footage is not supported by most versions of FCP like FCP 5/6/7. Well to edit Sony DSC-RX100 III XAVC S with Final Cut Pro, the most efficient way could be converting Sony DSC-RX100 III 4K XAVC S footage to FCP supported format with a XAVC S converting software.
To convert Sony DSC-RX100 III XAVC S to FCP, I recommend you UFUSoft XAVC S Converter for Mac, a professional tool which lets you convert recording 4K XAVC S by Sony DSC-RX100 III to MOV, ProRes, etc with 2 or 3 clicks. Then you can easily import Sony DSC-RX100 III 4K XAVC S to Final Cut Pro 6/7/X for editing on Mac. Download, install it on your computer and have a try.
Simple steps about how to edit 4K Sony DSC-RX100 III XAVC S with FCP smoothly?
Running the software XAVC S Video Converter, then click "Add Files" button to find and load Sony DSC-RX100 III 4K XAVC S video files for importing in the main interface of the software.
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« How to Recover Deleted/Lost Data from iPhone 6 (Plus)?


text:
require 'rake'
require 'rake/tasklib'

module SimpleSite
  # Rake tasks for managing your site.
  #
  # Here's a basic usage example:
  #
  #   SimpleSite::Tasks.new do |site|
  #     site.js_files = "site.js"
  #     site.buckets = %w(www.myawesomesite.com www.myotherdomain.com)
  #   end
  class Tasks < ::Rake::TaskLib

    attr_reader :site

    def initialize(&site_building_block)
      @site = SimpleSite::Site.new
      site_building_block.call @site
      define
    end

    private

      def define

        desc "Show SimpleSite config"
        task :config do

          puts " "
          puts "SimpleSite config:"
          puts "AWS S3 buckets: #{@site.options[:buckets].join(', ')}"
          puts "JS files: #{@site.options[:js_files].join(', ')}"
          puts " "

        end

        desc "Build Entire Site"
        task :build => ["build:html", "build:css", "build:js"]

        namespace :build do

          task :ensure_output_dir do
            Dir.mkdir('public') unless Dir.exists?('public')
          end

          desc "Build HTML"
          task :html => :ensure_output_dir do
            @site.generate_html
          end

          desc "Build CSS"
          task :css => :ensure_output_dir do
            @site.generate_css
          end

          desc "Build JS"
          task :js => :ensure_output_dir do
            @site.generate_js
          end

        end

        desc "Deploy website"
        task :deploy do
          @site.deploy!
        end

        namespace :deploy do

          task :file do
            @site.deploy_file!
          end

        end

      end

  end

end

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub


Elkhart Lake, WI (June 22, 2017) – Esteban Gutierrez is returning behind the wheel of the #18 Dale Coyne Racing entry this weekend for the KOHLER Grand Prix at Road America as he will be replacing the injured Sebastien Bourdais for the remainder of the Verizon IndyCar Series season.
"I'm very happy to finally announce my racing program for the rest of the season," expressed Gutierrez. "To represent Mexico in the Verizon IndyCar Series has a huge significance to all the fans that have been following the series through history and I'm very grateful to fill in this position.
Gutierrez got his first taste of an Indy car at the beginning of the month when he joined the team for the Detroit doubleheader weekend. While it wasn't the ideal venue to make his debut, with a tough, physical layout, Gutierrez improved and impressed throughout the weekend finishing 14th in Race 2 while fighting with drivers such as Marco Andretti.
Gutierrez will find himself in familiar territory this weekend having raced at Road America back in 2007 in the Formula BMW USA Series. He, along with teammate and fellow rookie Ed Jones, were also able to test at the 4.048-mile, 14-turn track last week ahead of this weekend's event.
Prior to joining the IndyCar Series this season, Gutierrez raced in Formula 1 for the Haas F1 team in 2016 following a year as a Scuderia Ferrari test driver in 2015. From 2013 to 2014 he raced with the Sauber F1 team.
Earlier in his career, he made his mark in the GP2 Series placing third in the Championship standings in 2012 on the strength of seven podium finishes including three wins. In 2010, he took home the GP3 Series Championship thanks to his nine podium finishes in 16 races, which included five race wins.
In 2007, Gutierrez made his American racing debut when he competed in the Formula BMW USA Series. That season, he scored four wins on his way to a runner-up finish and picked up rookie of the year honors.
Gutierrez and Jones who are both making their first official IndyCar appearance at Road America this weekend will be on track for two practice sessions on Friday, June 23 ahead of Saturday's 3:00pm local time qualifying.
Qualifying will be broadcast on NBCSN on tape-delay starting at 5:00pm ET on Saturday, June 24. The KOHLER Grand Prix, Round 10 of the season, will be broadcast live on NBCSN from 12:30pm ET on Sunday, June 25.


Founded by Michael Allen, the Blue Goose agency understands that trust is earned and that quality of life is worth protecting. We consider the agency a part of your community, and are accountable to each of our clients.
Learn more about the Blue Goose's client approach, and how it is designed to meet the needs of you and your loved ones.
Our mission is to provide informed and suitable recommendations based on a thoughtful and conscientious analysis of our client's individual needs; and to maintain the relationships we build with an unparalleled sense of urgency.
Blue Goose is not your typical insurance agency, and that is something we take great pride in. We realize that when you work in an industry that doesn't offer a lot of room for creativity or fun, you have to make room any way possible.
We wear jeans to work—but the fun doesn't stop there. Our office is a wide-open space in an old renovated building in Portland's Old Port. Everyone works side-by-side, from the sales team, to marketing, to the founder of the company. This creates an environment with constant sharing of ideas, knowledge and jokes… usually bad ones. We have a team of interns who create short, online videos to help share information we think you should know. Sometimes the films relate to insurance, sometimes they don't. Just between us, it's usually more fun when they don't!
We also know when it is time to get to work, and we take customer service very seriously. We strive to answer every phone call after the first ring. If we can't get to the phone right then, we'll return your call within the hour, not within 24. We train our sales team to know when to recognize that a client's needs have already been met and to walk away when one of our products just isn't a right fit. The needs of the client are always more important than making a sale.
The only way to know if a product is the right fit is to explain it in a way that is easily understood, and let the client decide if it makes sense for their situation. It's our job to educate everyone we sit down with so that they can make an informed decision based on their unique needs.
As we grow and help more people understand the insurance options available to them, we will continue to rely on these core values and philosophies to drive our day-to-day operations… especially the bad jokes.


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Twists & turns: Most visitors watch their feet while they huff and puff their way up — or down — the many wooden steps of the Baroque Stair at the Art Gallery of Ontario. Some look out the windows, and some glance at the people they pass, but most don't bother looking up. Straight up, that is, at the staircase spiralling upwards above them. It's too bad, because they're missing a real treat.
Designed by Frank Gehry, the Baroque Stair is one of my favourite architectural elements in the recently renovated gallery. Whenever I walk the Stair, I like to stop and look up at the sensuous curves of the wooden form that twists and turns overhead, linking ground-level Walker Court with the AGO's new fifth floor contemporary art galleries. I notice new things about the Stair every time — surprising shapes, textures and colours that vary in different levels of light. For me, the Baroque Stair is a delightful piece of eye candy that takes my mind off the long, thigh-burning climb (it's a very long walk indeed — the Stair is approximately 11 residential stories tall).
As AGO director/CEO Matthew Teitelbaum notes in an audio commentary on the gallery website, Gehry designed the Baroque Stair to be a "place of experience, not just a way of getting somewhere." For me, that experience is one of the highlights of any visit to the AGO. Below are several more pics of the Stair.
More photos and further information about Gehry's gallery transformation are provided at this link on the AGO website.
This entry was posted in Architecture & Construction, Art Gallery of Ontario, Art Gallery of Ontario, Art Gallery of Ontario, arts and culture venues, City Scenes: random snapshots of Toronto and tagged Frank Gehry, spiral staircase, staircase, Walker Court on January 29, 2011 by TOblogeditor.


text:
How Republicans Win
Washington's conventional wisdom for explaining the intensity of Republican obstructionism toward President Barack Obama breaks down one of two ways: either it's a philosophical disagreement over the role of government or a desperate need to stay in line with a radicalized right-wing base.
But there is another way to view the GOP political strategy, as neither principled nor reactive to the rantings of Tea Partiers, Glenn Beck and Rush Limbaugh. It is that the Republicans are following a playbook that has evolved over more than four decades, to regain power by sabotaging Democratic presidents.
In this analysis, the Republicans believe they can reclaim the lucrative levers of national authority by making the country as ungovernable as possible while a Democrat is in the White House, essentially holding governance hostage until they are restored to power. Then, the Democrats are expected to behave as a docile opposition "for the good of the country" (and usually do).
The "destroy Obama" game plan tracks most closely with Newt Gingrich's strategy for undermining Bill Clinton 16 years ago. But today's strategy also traces back to Richard Nixon's sabotage of President Lyndon B. Johnson's Vietnam peace talks in 1968 and Ronald Reagan's October Surprise gambit against President Jimmy Carter's Iran hostage negotiations in 1980.
In all four cases – covering the last four Democratic presidencies – the Republicans did not behave as a loyal opposition but rather as a single-minded political enemy that viewed the White House as its birthright and Democratic control of the Executive Branch as illegitimate.
During the first years of Clinton's presidency, leading Republicans, such as Sen. Bob Dole, actually denounced President Clinton as a "pretender." They noted that Clinton gained the White House with less than a majority of the popular vote (because of the third-party run of Ross Perot).
Rather than accept Clinton as a legitimate president, the Republicans unleashed their newly minted right-wing media machine (much of it having been assembled during the Reagan-Bush-41 years with the help of conservative foundations and right-wing media moguls).
Magazines, such as The American Spectator, and newspapers, like the Washington Times and the Wall Street Journal, spread ugly rumors about the Clintons, while radio talk show hosts, such as Limbaugh and G. Gordon Liddy, filled the airwaves with hours and hours of Clinton-bashing.
In Congress, House Republican firebrand Gingrich whipped his party into line against Clinton's top legislative goals. For the first time, every Republican voted against the federal budget, which included tax increases to rein in the deficit that had surged to unprecedented levels under Reagan and George H.W. Bush (41).
Meanwhile, the escalating anti-Clinton media assault drew in the Washington Post and the New York Times, which were determined to prove they could be tougher on a Democrat than any Republican and thus to shed once and for all the "liberal media" label.
By 1994, the Whitewater "scandal" about an obscure Clinton real-estate investment had become front-page news and a Republican-controlled judicial panel had picked former Reagan-Bush-41 appointee Kenneth Starr to head up an aggressive investigation into the Clintons' personal finances – and later into their private life.
Back on Capitol Hill, Gingrich's "revolutionaries" rallied – and railed – against Hillary Clinton's ill-fated health-reform bill.
'Black Helicopters'
Across the countryside, the harsh language in Congress and the ugly accusations from talk radio fed into a right-wing paranoia. Armed militia groups began forming to resist the threat of "one-world government" and its "black helicopters" arriving from the United Nations to strip away American liberties.
Every day, Americans were confronted with a level of disorder in their political system that they had not seen in decades – and President Clinton took most of the blame for the government disarray.
Having covered CIA destabilization campaigns in Third World countries, particularly Nicaragua, I was struck by the similarities. In the 1980s, the Reagan-Bush-41 administrations destroyed Nicaragua's leftist Sandinista revolution by systematically making the country ungovernable via a combination of economic dislocations, political/media propaganda, and paramilitary activities.
Finally, in 1990, Nicaraguan voters – faced with a choice of electing the U.S.-financed candidate Violeta Chamorro or suffering a continued U.S. economic embargo and a resumption of attacks by U.S.-supported contra rebels – opted to accede to Washington's desires and voted for Chamorro.
By the second year of the Clinton administration, it seemed something similar was occurring in the United States, in part, because the Reagan-Bush-41 administrations had left behind not only a capacity for "information warfare" in the Third World but a domestic version of that propaganda infrastructure.
Documentary evidence from Reagan's presidential library now shows that the overseas and domestic propaganda machines were built simultaneously as Reagan's CIA Director William Casey recruited conservative foundation executives like Richard Mellon Scaife to help finance these activities.
Casey also put a senior CIA propagandist, Walter Raymond Jr., into Reagan's National Security Council to create an inter-agency propaganda bureaucracy and to oversee its operation. [See Consortiumnews.com's "How Reagan's Propaganda Succeeded."]
Another major accomplishment of the Reagan administration was the creation of the National Endowment for Democracy, which on the surface was intended to finance pro-U.S. political/media entities around the globe.
But NED had another side. Since many of the NED-funded organizations were based in Washington – and since the NED bureaucracy was dominated by neoconservatives – NED, in effect, became a permanent funding mechanism for the neocon community in the U.S. capital.
Ironically, NED, which currently has a $100 million annual budget, may have done more to influence the course of the United States than any of the countries it has targeted for "democratization." NED funding explains why Washington's neocons have remained so influential despite their involvement in so many policy disasters, such as the Iraq War.
Even when the neocons find themselves adrift during brief periods out of power, many of them remain afloat with the help of NED grant money. They can hang onto a financial life-preserver tossed from some institute that benefits from the federal funding.
That way, the neocons can continue writing op-eds and books, while weighing in on TV talk shows and at conferences that shape U.S. government policies.
These political/media mechanisms dating back to the Reagan years may have been originally designed to protect the political flanks of a Republican administration, but it turned out they could be put to use just as effectively for offense as for defense.
When Clinton managed to wrest the White House from the Republicans after 12 years of Reagan and Bush-41, the GOP realized that it could well shorten its time out of power by savaging the new President and creating chaos to undermine his political power and his popularity.
Clinton-Hating
In February 1994, I attended the Conservative Political Action Conference in Washington and was stunned to see the array of Clinton-hating paraphernalia, including slick videos suggesting that Bill Clinton was a murderer and semi-nude photo-shopped images of Hillary Clinton. (Some of the anti-Clinton propaganda was being financed by the same right-wing foundations that had collaborated with Reagan and Casey.)
By early fall 1994, the anti-Clinton hysteria was sweeping the country, though Democrats were mostly oblivious to its ferocity. Shortly before the 1994 elections, I had dinner with a savvy Democratic operative at the Monocle restaurant on Capitol Hill and told him that it looked to me like the Democrats would lose both the House and the Senate.
He responded that I might be right about the Senate but that there was no way the House would fall to the Republicans. A few days later, however, that was exactly what happened.
While the Democrats were slow on the uptake, the Republicans definitely "got" what was happening and why. In celebration, the Gingrich "revolutionaries" made Rush Limbaugh an honorary member of the new Republican congressional majority, hailing him as their "national precinct captain."
Though today's conventional wisdom holds that a big difference between 1994 and 2010 is that Gingrich had a positive message in his "Contract for America," that analysis misses the point that it was the tearing down of the Clintons – represented by Limbaugh's daily tirades – and the impression of national disarray under Clinton that were key to the GOP victory in 1994.
In the years that followed, the anti-Clinton hysteria would have other consequences. On April 19, 1995, right-wing militia fanatic Timothy McVeigh detonated a bomb at the Oklahoma City federal building killing 168 people. Limbaugh and others who had stoked the fires of paranoia would angrily deny any suggestion that they had contributed to the catastrophe.
Despite Clinton's reelection in 1996, the Republicans did not give up their determination to destroy him. In 1998-99, they instituted impeachment proceedings that sought to oust him from office for lying about his extramarital sex life. Though Clinton survived a Senate trial, he and his family were humiliated and Republicans were energized to restore the Reagan-Bush dynasty by putting George W. Bush into the White House, even if he did lose the popular vote to Al Gore.
The same two elements – tearing down a Democratic president and creating a sense of political havoc – are again at the center of Republican strategy, except that today the GOP is even better placed to carry out a repeat than the party was in 1994. Then, there was no Fox News dominating the cable TV ratings and the right-wing media was far less developed than it is today.
Though the Republicans can't say that Obama wasn't legitimately elected (he won with 53 percent of the vote and a record 66.8 million ballots), the Right has questioned his legitimacy in other ways, such as the spurious claims that he was born in Kenya despite his Hawaiian birth certificate.
The Tea Party crowd also has decried him as some Islamic-terrorist-loving, America-hating communist, socialist or Nazi – if not the anti-Christ. A popular Tea Party poster shows Obama as a white-faced Joker, the sociopathic character from the latest Batman movie.
With funding from corporate and other right-wing interests, the Tea Partiers also have done their best to create political chaos.
Last summer, Tea Party activists disrupted "town hall" meetings on health care, and this spring, they forced Democratic members of Congress to run a gauntlet of insults and other abuse as they walked to the Capitol to vote on health-care reform – scenes reminiscent of white racists shouting at black students at Little Rock Central High School in 1957.
High-Level Encouragement
The organized chaos even entered the Congress itself, as Republican lawmakers cheered protesters on – and at times acted like them.
Last year, Rep. Joe Wilson, R-South Carolina, shouted "you lie" at Obama during a presidential address. During the health-care vote, Rep. Randy Neugebauer, R-Texas, yelled "baby killer" while Rep. Bart Stupak, D-Michigan, was speaking against a Republican motion to stop the bill by requiring revised anti-abortion language.
Republican leaders also engaged in apocalyptic rhetoric, with House Minority Leader John Boehner of Ohio declaring that passage of health-care reform would lead to "Armageddon," a religious reference to the end-times battle between a warrior Jesus and the anti-Christ.
In the days after the health-care vote, the disruptions did spill over into violence, with bricks thrown through the windows of Democratic offices and death threats made against members of Congress. Some militant Tea Partiers vowed to stage an armed rally near Washington.
Though Boehner and a few other Republican leaders finally criticized acts of violence, others continued to wink at the unruly behavior or shift the blame onto the Democrats for talking about it.
"It is reckless to use these incidents as media vehicles for political gain," said House Minority Whip Eric Cantor of Virginia, criticizing Rep. Chris Van Hollen, D-Maryland, chairman of the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee, and Democratic National Chairman Tim Kaine for "dangerously fanning the flames by suggesting that these incidents be used as a political weapon."
For her part, former Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin defended her advice that her backers should "reload" and her decision to put crosshairs on the districts of endangered Democrats, saying the references had nothing to do with violence. She blamed the controversy on "this BS coming from the lame-stream media, lately, about us inciting violence."
Amid these mixed messages, right-wing extremists now appear to be shifting from aggressive words and disruptive protests to going operational.
On Monday, FBI agents arrested nine alleged members of a Michigan-based Christian militia group, called Hutaree, charging them with a plot to kill a police officer, bomb the funeral and touch off an armed uprising against the U.S. government. The Hutaree see themselves as at war with the anti-Christ.
Despite the growing specter of political violence, the Republicans appear set in their determination to foment as much disruption as possible between now and the November elections, and thus reap expected gains, with hopes that they can win back the House and Senate and then further neutralize Obama.
Inside-Outside
While some Washington pundits see the Republicans as captives of the extremism on the Right – unable to dismount a dangerous tiger – the counter-analysis would be that the GOP and the Tea Party/militia crowd are just two parts of the same political movement, one inside the system and the other outside, but both working toward the same goal, a restoration of Republican/Right control of government.
In their view, only then would political comity and governmental normalcy be restored, because the Democrats always seem eager to get along and do what's necessary to make government work.
To refer back to the Nicaragua comparison, the GOP's inside-outside game is like Nicaragua's pro-U.S. "internal opposition" operating as a non-violent political arm while the U.S.-funded paramilitary contras wreaked havoc in the countryside, both with the goal of removing the Sandinistas from power.
And as long as this "make-the-political-system-scream" strategy continues to work, it is probably unrealistic to expect the Republicans to disavow it. Washington power and the money that comes with it are so intoxicating that the political risks appear well worth it, especially if Democrats and the American Left don't have the means or the courage to stand against abuses by Republicans and the Right.
That pattern of acquiescence by the Democrats and the Left dates back to the emergence of this Republican anything-goes strategy more than four decades ago. As audiotapes at LBJ's presidential library make clear, Johnson was aware of Nixon's pre-election sabotaging of the Paris peace talks in 1968, but remained silent to avoid risking damage to Nixon's presidential legitimacy.
Similarly, Jimmy Carter and other leading Democrats, such as former Rep. Lee Hamilton, were aware of substantial evidence that Ronald Reagan's campaign secretly undercut Carter's efforts to win the release of 52 American hostages held in Iran in 1980, but the Democrats have chosen to look the other way.
Hamilton, who prides himself on his "bipartisanship," led a congressional investigation into the Iran-hostage "October Surprise" mystery in 1992, but refused to pursue late-developing evidence pointing to Republican guilt even after his chief counsel, Lawrence Barcella, asked for an extension because so much new information was pouring in by the end of 1992.
Barcella told me later that Hamilton simply ordered the inquiry brought to a close with its finding of Republican innocence. Much of the new evidence implicating the Republicans was then stored away, including a Russian intelligence report confirming secret meetings between Republicans and Iranians. [For details, see Robert Parry's Secrecy & Privilege]
For his part, ex-President Carter appeared more concerned about the danger of being accused of sour grapes than learning anything new about how the Republicans sank his presidency.
In 1996, while meeting with Palestine Liberation Organization leader Yasir Arafat, Carter reportedly raised his hands into a physical stop position when Arafat tried to confess to his role in the Republican maneuvering to block Carter's Iran-hostage negotiations.
"There is something I want to tell you," Arafat said, addressing Carter at a meeting in Arafat's bunker in Gaza City. "You should know that in 1980 the Republicans approached me with an arms deal [for the PLO] if I could arrange to keep the hostages in Iran until after the [U.S. presidential] election."
Arafat was apparently prepared to provide additional details and evidence, but Carter raised his hands, indicating that he didn't want to hear anymore.
The Pattern Continues
So, the Republicans have never been made to pay a political price for their scheming to undercut sitting Democratic presidents — and to grease the GOP's route back to power. Whenever a Democrat is in the White House, the Republicans believe they are free do whatever they want to block him from solving national problems, making him look weak and ineffectual.
That was true of Johnson, Carter, Clinton and now Obama.
This GOP strategy is pursued even if it tarnishes the international image of the United States or if it undermines national security, even if it means more than 20,000 additional U.S. soldiers dying in Vietnam, or 52 American hostages facing longer captivity in Iran, or the likes of Timothy McVeigh feeling empowered to blow up a federal building.
The strategy continues even if it raises the current threat level against President Obama and Democratic lawmakers. The strategy continues because it works.
Robert Parry broke many of the Iran-Contra stories in the 1980s for the Associated Press and Newsweek. His latest book, Neck Deep: The Disastrous Presidency of George W. Bush, was written with two of his sons, Sam and Nat, and can be ordered at neckdeepbook.com. His two previous books, Secrecy & Privilege: The Rise of the Bush Dynasty from Watergate to Iraq and Lost History: Contras, Cocaine, the Press & 'Project Truth' are also available there.
Investigative reporter Robert Parry broke many of the Iran-Contra stories for The Associated Press and Newsweek in the 1980s. He is the author of America's Stolen Narrative and the editor of Consortium News.


Join us for Small Business Saturday on November 26.
Look all around and feast your eyes on the renewed vibrancy spreading throughout the Midtown Paducah neighborhood. We at Midtown Market are thrilled to be part of the renaissance that is stretching to neighborhoods throughout our creative city. Join us on Saturday, November 26, as we kick off the holiday season and celebrate Paducah's local flavor and flair on Small Business Saturday.
Enjoy discounts on various products throughout the store. Sample meats and cheeses from our gourmet selection. Explore tasty treats from our deli and get inspired with gift ideas from our broad selection of custom gift baskets. Treat yourself to new products and goodies produced by farmers and makers who live in our region. Try something new in our bulk bins, and find organic and all-natural foods that you won't find anywhere else in Paducah.
There was a time when only a handful of local shop owners had the courage to invest in Paducah's local economy. But much of that has changed, giving us all something to celebrate! Today, we see entrepreneurs of all ages and experiences putting out their shingles and making Paducah a very interesting place to live and be these days.
Small Business Saturday is more than a simple shopping experience. It's about making the Midtown neighborhood vibrant by supporting the interesting sites and businesses that make our neighborhood great. It's about building connections to local producers and providing creative people with a place to sell their goods. Shopping "small" is a significant part of building Paducah's local economy so that all can be part of exploring what Paducah has to offer its residents and visitors.
At Midtown Market we do our best to carry local products, and to maintain a deli loaded with original menu items and flavors that our customers crave. We may be small in comparison to the big box retailers, but we're big on investing in our local economy. That means we can provide our customers with products that they've been asking for.
We're totally in and we hope you will be, as well. Help us support the people who have taken risks to make Paducah a cool place to live and shop by stopping by Midtown Market on Small Business Saturday (November 26, 2016).


text:
Higher Education Reforms in India
Yale SOM Working Paper
88 Pages Posted: 10 Aug 2010 Last revised: 22 Dec 2011
See all articles by Shyam Sunder
Yale University - School of Management; Yale University - Cowles Foundation
Number of pages: 88 Posted: 10 Aug 2010 Last Revised: 22 Dec 2011
Date Written: June 28, 2010
The number of institutions and enrollment in higher education continue their rapid growth, but the quality of this education remains uncertain. A small number of state-subsidized institutions attract a thin top layer of talent from each year's cohort. High selectivity of admission to these elite institutions provides a screen valued by potential employers. Domestic and foreign demand for the services of these few thousand students has created an inflated reputation of the overall quality of India's higher education. The number of such graduates remains small relative to the population and the demands of India's economy for educated manpower. Reliable estimates of value-added by higher education, beyond the screening value of admission to elite institutions, are needed to assess colleges and universities, and to guide educational policy. Graduate education — the seed farm of higher education and scholarship — continues in an alarming state of disarray with respect to both quality and quantity. Pressed by budgetary constraints, the government appears to have decided on profit-oriented privatization of higher education as the solution. Political and business classes, with significant overlap between the two, see higher education as a source of lucrative private returns on investment. There is little theoretical or empirical evidence that supports the prospects of success of a for-profit model in building quality higher education. Some recent proposals hold promise of radical reform and renovation, including regulatory restructuring. It remains unclear whether the government has the wisdom, determination, financing, and power to push reforms past the resistance from entrenched faculty and from the political and business classes.
Keywords: India, economic growth, higher education, university, reforms, innovation, doctoral programs, financing, regulation, teacher scarcity, investment
JEL Classification: H52, I21, I22, I28, N35, O53, P4
Sunder, Shyam, Higher Education Reforms in India (June 28, 2010). Yale SOM Working Paper. Available at SSRN: https://ssrn.com/abstract=1652277 or http://dx.doi.org/10.2139/ssrn.1652277
Shyam Sunder (Contact Author)
Yale University - School of Management ( email )
HOME PAGE: http://www.som.yale.edu/faculty/sunder/
Yale University - Cowles Foundation