After some kinky dreams, I was so hot and needy that with a real partner, I would have been ready to beg for some real brutal treatment after being tied halpless, especially of my tingling pussy, like a hard fisting or oversized dildo fuck, and my naughty tits, like tying them up painfully tight before giving them a good beating, but “Master Dice” does not care about wishes or requests, which is part of his charm. “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 tug ball (60 mm hard blue rubber bumped dog ball with cord) for filling my pussy, a bardex nozzle (178×50#100 mm inflatable silicon) for filling my anal, a chain (2 m, 8 mm twist steel) for bisecting my crotch, flag rope (2 x 3.6 m, 5 mm white polyester) for binding my boobs, and clover clamps (1 pair, metal and rubber, hard) for my nipples. “He” then styled me for work with black cotton panties, that might double as a makeshift gag later, high-heel pumps, and heavy makeup, although the weather permitted me to wear high-heel knee-high leather boots to and from work.
“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 flag ropes tying my boobs tight around their bases, making them swell, bulge and shift color towards purple, the tug ball shoved into my hot pussy, the clover clamps tormenting my nipples, the bardex nozzle pushed into my tight anal, and the used and soiled panties humiliatingly shoved into my mouth. 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 5 times to rub my clit just short of orgasm. On my way home, the stimulation from the tug ball as it moved in my pussy with every step, the painfully stretched feeling from the bardex nozzle in my anal, the agonizing pinch on the membrane between my two lower intruders, the tight but comfortable flag ropes 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, the clover clamps pinching my nipples painfully while nudged by the clothes, 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 uncomfortable. Soon, the mauling of my sensitive membrane between the 2 large intruders slowed me down to a mincing waddle, trying to reduce the pain in my crotch.
When I came home, “He” had me strip naked again, but keeping my adornments, then gagging myself with a tightly wound tape gag sealing my lower face, mouth stuffed with a large foam wad, adding a 1.0 l enema through the bardex nozzle, a wide black leather collar, nooses with 500 g weights on each nipple, and a bullet vibrator taped to my clit on low intensity. For the final tie, “He” had me use metal (police-cuffs and chains with padlocks) after arranging a 2.0 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 a spiked hard plastic turf floor mat, with a shoulder harness, a tie around my waist secured to a metal eye in the middle of the mat forcing me in place, my ankles and legs tied tight and bent with ankles tied towards my waist, and my hands tied high up my back to the shoulder harness (the ice timer dropped the keys on a cord with the cord dangling within reach of my fingers).
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.