Today, my personal self-tie trainer “Master Dice” had a go at me. “Master Dice” is the silly little self-tie dice game I made not to have lack of partner or inspiration keeping me from my sometimes much needed and desired being tied up. “He” made me strip naked, pack my bag with lube for dildos and plugs, two pairs of hinged metal police-cuffs, a big dildo (178×51 mm skin-colored latex) for stuffing my vagina, a large anal dilator (178×60 mm black TPE) for filling my ass, a chain (2 m, 8 mm twist steel) for binding through my crevice, ankle irons (2 pairs, nickel-plated metal with 40 cm twist chain) for binding my breasts, and pet rubber bands (3 pairs, small black for coat styling) for my nipples. “He” then styled me for work with black polyester panties, that might literally fill in as a provisory gag later, and yellow as clothing color.
“He” had me spend some of my lunch break in a toilet, again stripped naked, standing with ankles cuffed and hands cuffed back with the police-cuffs, trying to pet myself towards a pretty awkward orgasm. I had to stop just short of cumming, and “He” then denied me cumming, leaving me very hot and frustrated. After freeing myself, I used the toilet, but was not permitted to wipe myself, to really soil my panties, got dressed and returned to my desk, eating in front of my laptop and trying to get my focus back on work.
After work, “He” had me go down to a storage room in the basement, again strip naked and adorn myself with the used and soiled panties humiliatingly shoved into my mouth, the big dildo pushed into my hot vagina, the ankle irons tying my boobs tight around their bases, making them swell, bulge and shift color towards purple, the chain bound through my cleft uncomfortably tight but arousing, and the large anal dilator pushed into my tight ass. Then “He” had me go home like that, dressed but without my panties, hiding my adornments, on foot through a green area, forced to stop 4 times to rub my clit to orgasm. On my way home, the hard stimulation from the big dildo as it moved in my pussy with every step, the totally filled feeling from the large anal dilator in my anal, the uncomfortable pinch on the membrane between my two lower stuffings, the hard but soon very slick and arousing rubbing through my crotch by the chain, the brutally and unyieldingly hard and tight ankle irons constricting the base of my breasts and keeping them swollen with a throbbing ache and with the purplish and glistening skin taut and sensitive to the rubbing from the clothes when I moved, and the soiled panties humiliatingly stuffed and hidden in my mouth but still arousing me and the taste of myself reminding me how hot these games make me, was making the trip rather intense and almost pure pleasure.
When I came home, “He” had me strip naked again, but keeping my adornments, then gagging myself with a horse bridle, adding an inflatable urethra catheter with 300 ml bladder fill, and a bullet vibrator taped to my clit on low intensity. For the final tie, “He” had me use sisal ropes (8 mm sisal hemp, with a big padlock to cinch the wrist tie) after arranging a 1.0 hour ice timer for my release, with the necessary keys and cutter, plus my usual backup of a text with an estimated time I was to be free and texting again to an informed friend. “He” had me arrange myself hogtied on belly on my bed with a shoulder harness, my feet tied together with a tie up to the shoulder harness, and my hands tied high up my back to the shoulder harness, being set up in another room than the release timer, requiring me to move to the next room for my release.
When I was done, I was thoroughly thrilled and excited by my helplessness, and the discomforts I was forced to accept and endure because of it. My only way out was the ice timer holding my release, way out of reach up under the ceiling, or if that failed, my backup that hopefully eventually would come to check up why I had not texted her again, using her spare key to let herself in and find me. I tested my ties, happy and aroused to find them tight and secure, just the way I desired them. As almost always, my imagination kicked in, building fantasies of me being found and caught, used and abused, a helpless sex-toy played with in every way imaginable and perhaps a few ways unimaginable as well, teased and tormented much harder than I was now, taken away and kept, or abandoned and left without hope or release, making a mixture of arousal, panic and agony whirl through my mind. The vibrator on my clit kept buzzing, slowly building and maintaining my pleasure, pushing me over the edge a few times from the moderate vibrations.
Eventually, my time was done, and I went for my release. After having recovered some, I texted my informed friend that I was free, sanitized myself, cleaned up the mess I left when I freed myself and then wrote this report.