Once more, 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 hard dildo (152×40 mm golden plastic) for stuffing my vagina, a huge anal cone (178×76 mm black TPE) for filling my anal, a latex hose (4 m, 10 mm) for binding through my crotch, electrical tape (19 mm black vinyl) for tying my tits, and tweezer clamps (1 pair, metal and plastic, adjustable) for my nipples. “He” then styled me for work with black polyester panties, that might literally fill in as a provisory gag later, yellow as clothing color, and high-heel platform sandals, 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 electrical tape binding my boobs tight around their bases, making them swell, bulge and shift color towards purple, the huge anal cone shoved into my tight rectum, the latex hose tied through my crotch, the hard dildo shoved into my vagina, the tweezer clamps torturing my nipples, and the used and soiled panties humiliatingly pushed into my mouth. 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 hard dildo as it moved in my vagina with every step, the overfilled feeling from the huge anal cone in my anal, the uncomfortable pinch on the membrane between my two lower intruders, the lustful and soon slick rubbing through my cleft by the latex hose, the nice and tight electrical tape 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 tweezer clamps pinching my nipples hard 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 quite interesting and mostly pleasure.
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 wool sock, adding a bullet vibrator taped to my clit on low intensity. For the final tie, “He” had me use flag ropes (5 mm polyester, 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 kneeling tied on my bed with a shoulder harness, my legs frogtied 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. When I had freed my hands, but everything else was still in place, “He” ordered me to masturbate to 2 orgasms, and when I had freed and relieved myself entirely, “He” ordered me to masturbate to 2 orgasms more. It was desired, after I had been kept so hot for so long. 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.