Again, 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 tug ball (60 mm hard blue rubber bumped dog ball with cord) for stuffing my pussy, an inflatable anal plug (152×38-102 mm black latex) for stuffing my rectum, a latex hose (4 m, 10 mm) for binding through my crotch, flag rope (2 x 7.2 m, 5 mm white polyester) for binding my tits, and alligator clamps (1 pair, jagged metal, cruel) for my nipples. “He” then styled me for work with black cotton panties, that might be used as a provisional gag later, and T-shirt.
“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 permitted me to cum once, leaving me somewhat relieved but still pretty hot. 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 latex hose bisecting my crevice, the used and soiled panties humiliatingly shoved into my mouth, the tug ball pushed into my hot vagina, the inflatable anal plug pushed into my tight ass, the alligator clamps tormenting my nipples, and the flag ropes binding my breasts tight around their bases, making them swell, bulge and shift color towards purple. Then “He” had me go home like that, dressed but without my panties, hiding my adornments, on foot through the crowded city center. On my way home, the stimulation from the tug ball as it shifted in my vagina with every step, the uncomfortably stretched feeling from the inflatable anal plug in my ass, the agonizing pinch on the membrane between my two nether stuffings, the lustful and soon slick rubbing through my crotch by the latex hose, 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 alligator clamps chewing my nipples agonizingly 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 very 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. The agonizing torture of my nipples was so intense it brought tears to my eyes, not really crying though.
When I came home, “He” had me strip naked again, but keeping my adornments, then gagging myself with a ring gag with wooden tongue clamp, adding a wide black leather collar. 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 0.5 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 barefoot, standing with a shoulder harness and sharp thumbtacks taped to my breasts (over my nipples and areolas), my buttocks (sit area), the front of my knees, the sides of my hips, the sides of my upper arms, the soles of my feet (the foot arch), each length of duct tape with 7 thumbtacks in a loose flower shape, my feet tied together with a tie up to the shoulder harness, forcing me to crouch, 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.
Eventually, my time was done, and I went for my release. When I had freed and relieved myself entirely, “He” ordered me to masturbate to 2 orgasms. I really needed that, for several different reasons. 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.