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Total Bondage Island	By : DrunkenSailor Category: +S through Z > Total Drama Island Views: 10366 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the cartoon(s) that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Total Bondage Island
- 2-The Girl's Fates
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- 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the cartoon that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Gwen cringed as the whip cruelly struck her naked back, trying so hard to fight the scream it drew out from her, the cry muffled into a strangled moan by the rubber ball that filled her mouth. Her eyes looked hatefully back and forth, unable to see much at all in the dark tent, unable to see her captor. Behind her she could hear the refined voice of her tormentor as he chuckled sadistically. She heard the whip draw back again, and closed her eyes tight, tears leaking out as the agonizing leather wrapped around her body, along the curve of her breast. The tip bit into her nipple and forced another scream from the tortured goth. Gwen shook her head in her pain, green and black streaked hair flowing around her as she remembered the night before...

“All campers report to the main grounds!”

Gwen rolled her eyes as she looked up from her diary, gritting her teeth in frustration. With a sigh she put the diary away and got up from the stump. Another peaceful afternoon ruined by another stupid contest. She stalked towards the site, grumbling as others of the Screaming Gophers ran past her, rolling her eyes as a shirtless Owen waved to her. “Whatever. Bring on the idiocy.”

“It's not a contest.” The huge kid grinned, turning around and jogging backwards. “There's, like, a huge storm coming through. Lightning, tornadoes, everything!” he yelled, throwing his hands up in excitement as if it was somehow the greatest news ever. Gwen looked back up at the sky, and took in the heavy clouds. The wind whipped around her, blowing leaves past. It was strong, but didn't seem anything horrendous yet.

“Like I said. Whatever.” she shrugged, following the team to the campgrounds.

Camp Wawanakwa was in it's standard state of Chaos as Gwen arrived.

“Okay, everyone is splitting up now,” Chris MacClean called out. “We have four storm cellars. Two for each team. One for the girls, one for the boys.”

“Oh! Oh! I have a question.” Lindsay was already bouncing up and down, waving her hand. Gwen let out a huff of exasperation as she saw all the male eyes following the blonde's bouncing breasts. “Why split up the girls and boys?”

“That you'll find out when you come out,” Chris grinned in his sadistic host way, “and the next challenge starts.” His announcement came with the normal amount of groaning and speculation.

“Oh, look who decided to show up.” Gwen glared over at the sound of Heather's voice. The two instantly locked eyes in a staredown of mutual hatred that was only broken at the sound of Trent's voice.

“Hey Gwen. Guess... guess I'll be seeing you later.”

She bit her lip, feeling the blush come to her face as that increasingly familiar dizzy feeling crept over her. “Yeah.” Gwen found herself saying. “Have fun I guess.”

Trent shrugged in his nonchalant way. “Shouldn't be too bad. Least we'll be out of the storm.”

“Easy for you to say. You won't be locked up with them.” Gwen sneered as she pointed over her shoulder to where Heather and her cronies were chattering.

Trent gave an easy, reassuring laugh that brought a a smile to Gwen's face despite herself. “Don't worry. It's not like you'll be trapped with them forever.”

The whip cracked against Gwen's ass, her tormentor's favorite target, striking over the previous red marks it had left on her soft skin, making the teen girl scream uselessly into her gag. Her eyes were open wide now as she tried to pull away, arms tugging at the ropes that hung from the ceiling and held her wrists together high overhead. Her back arched as she tried to move away from the whip, her round hips twisting. Her toes strained for the floor that only the balls of her feet could reach as the whip cracked and punished her bottom yet again. She wept, crying out helplessly, ankles twisting in the leather cuffs of the spreader bar that forced her legs apart. She bit down on the gag, trying not to crack. He hadn't said anything to her, hadn't spoken to her at all since she woke up like that. She hadn't even been able to see him as he tried to look back. She knew nothing except the strikes of the cruel whip. She closed her eyes tight, tears leaking out. Who was he? She wondered desperately. Why was he doing this?

“Why are you doing this?” Gwen crossed her arms, glowering at Heather. The slim girl just smiled in her insufferably superior way.

“Because someone needs to get supplies in case there's a problem. We took a vote, and that's you.” Lindsay and Irma stayed behind Heather. To Gwen it looked like they were cowering. “What's wrong creepy girl?” Heather leaned forward.“Do you hate democracy?”

“Fine!” Gwen threw her hands up, rolling her eyes and turning to head back upstairs. She didn't even look back as she opened the cellar doors and stalked out into the driving storm, her clenched hands shaking in rage as she heard the other girls giggle behind her.

Gritting her teeth against the cold wind and rain, Gwen hugged her arms around herself as she cursed Heather and her clique. Regardless of the storm, at least it was nice to be away from them.

Lightning struck a nearby building, illuminating the entire camp as bright as day, the thunder practically knocking Gwen over. She staggered to her feet, flinching as a board flew past her, and quickly decided that supplies weren't at all important. She ran back to the cellar, trying to pry the doors open. They didn't budge.

“Fucking bitch!” She yelled down at the locked cellar. She backed up, looking around angrily at the furious weather. “The cave.” she said to herself, and turned for the woods.

The whip had stopped, but Gwen still shuddered, tugging miserably at the bonds that were the only things keeping her up. And then she could feel him behind her. She gasped, the mixed order of male sweat and Old Spice reaching her nose. The captive teen shook her head, trembling, trying to yell hatefully into her gag, but it seemed tailored for her mouth, reducing her words of rage to meaningless moaning. And then she felt his fingers on her skin, large and strong, brushing along her side. Her eyes popped wide as she felt his right hand trail up her body, cupping her breast in his grip. His other stroked her hip possessively. She tried to cry out, shaking her head, driving it back, and then gasped as it bumped into his chest.

Gwen shivered, and looked up, seeing her tormentor for the first time. He had to be at least forty years old, given the gray in his black hair, mustache and goatee. But he was strong, broad chested, she felt certain his hands could fit around her waist. And then his hand closed, finger and thumb pinching down hard on her nipple, drawing a new shriek of pain and surprise.

“My little Gwen.” He smiled evilly down, his voice deep and refined, speaking in a sophisticated American accent. As he talked he twisted her tender nipple, making her twist in pain even as she stared up at him, her eyes pure hatred. “Such fun we'll have together.” He stroked her side with his other hand, and she moaned in helpless anger and shame as his fingers slipped between her legs, caressing the folds of her sex. Her cheeks as she realized that in addition to being stripped, she'd been shaved fully down there. She whimpered in humiliation, struggling to draw her knees together as he fondled her.

“I'm sure you have so many questions.” he said simply, giving her bare cunt a cruel slap before drawing his hands away, an evil chuckle coming as she strained to yell at him. His hands left her, but his body pressed up against hers. He was bare chested, but lower she could feel the fine material of his slacks. As he shifted she mewled lightly, feeling the hard bulge within them press against the cleft of her beaten bottom.

Both his hands rose up around he, lifting something for her to see. A muffled protest came from Gwen as her eyes widened in fear, focusing on the black leather collar he held before her, her name decorating a metal name on the front in gothic lettering. “Let's show you some answers.”

His voice sent a chill down her spine.

A chill ran down her spine as she stepped out of the cave, still feeling soaked as she rubbed her arms for warmth. The storm had seemed to rage all night, the winds getting strong enough that it had sounded like helicopters. Gwen grumbled, sulking and clenching her teeth as she made her way back to camp. She'd probably miss the challenge. And Heather would have enough pull to get her kicked off the Island nest. But right now, she didn't care.

As she drew closer she could hear sounds in the camp. Male voices were talking, and in the distance it sounded like Izzy was screaming her head off. “Yep. Definitely missed the start.” Still, something didn't seem right. She crept closer, keeping to the bushes, pulling them aside to peak out. What she saw made her eyes bulge.

She had heard helicopters. Three of them were parked around the camp. Strange men were all around and new tents had been set up. At first she didn't see any of the other contestants. And then one of the tent flaps flew open and Courtney came rushing out. Her arms were bound together at the wrists with rope, and a red ballgag filled her mouth, the black leather strap cinched tight around her head. Around her neck sat a black leather collar. Other then those, she had nothing on but her white bra and panties.

Courtney tried to run, but suddenly she was jerked back by the collar. A strangled yell came from her as she fell back on her bottom. Gwen could hear men laughing inside the tent. Courtney tried helplessly to get up as they pulled her back in like a fish on a line. The captive girl's eyes swept the tree line desperately, and met Gwen's.

Her eyes conveyed the full measure of her fear and panic. That, and one word. Run!

One of the men looked up, following Courtney's stare, his own gaze locking on the girl hidden in the bushes. “There she is! There's the last one!” Gwen turned and ran as fast as she could.

Everything else was forgotten as Gwen ran desperately, finding new speed in her terror. She could hear them, there was definitely more then one. What were they doing there? She jumped over a fallen tree, but one of the branches caught her skirt, sending her tumbling to the forest floor. She heard one of the me yell, and jumped to her feet. She made it three more steps before she felt a sudden stinging sensation in her ass, like a hornet had bit her. She slapped at it, and yelped again as her hand hit some sort of dart. She turned, looking down in shock at the sedative dart sticking out of her bottom, before she collapsed, the world turning slowed down around her. Her last thoughts before darkness claimed her were of Courtney's look of terror, and the collar around her neck.

Now Gwen stared at the black collar as her tormentor brought it towards her, her eyes wide and round as her heart hammered fearfully. She started twisting about, her body barely able to move, squirming and cursing into the gag. The man laughed, grabbing her multi-colored hair tight in his grip and jerking her head back. Gwen gasped, freezing as she looked up into his eyes. “I've been watching you on the show, little girl.” he smiled, bringing the leather collar to her neck with one hand, laying it across her skin as he bent her back by her hair. “Oh, there was fierce competition. But I decided from the beginning that I would be the one to buy you, Gwen.”

Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she looked up. Bought? And then he let her hair loose, and in a fluid motion locked the collar snugly around her throat.

“And now,” he smiled contentedly, raising her chin, “you're mine.”

Gwen's mind reeled as he stepped away. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't! He grabbed her wrists, untying them but holding them tight in his grip. She tried to fight, but she was too exhausted and he was too strong. He brought them together behind her back, binding her trim wrists together, and then tying them off to her collar, the short length pulling her hands up between her shoulder-blades, and forcing her to arch her back or else feel like she was choking herself. He moved to her ankles next, removing the cuffs from the spreader bar. She tried to kick him, but he seemed to easily hold her feet in place, clipping a short hobble chain between her ankles. Throughout it all she glared at him, eyes seething in rage, even as she tried to ignore the rising feeling of childish helplessness building inside her, growing every time this man, who was easily over twice her age bound her tighter.

Finally he cupped her chin, forcing her head up, his cold, powerful eyes looking into hers, holding her gaze as he clipped a leash to the o-ring at the base of her neck, directly under where the collar displayed her name like that of a prize pet. He gave a test pull, and she winced, forced to take tiny steps forward or fall down, her cheeks burning red in shame, her eyes glaring daggers at him.

“Come along, little Gwen.” he said as he pulled the tent flap aside to show a view of Camp Wawanakwa. He gave a tug, pulling on the leash to lead her out. “Let's go see your friends.”
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Total Bondage Island