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 hard dildo (152×40 mm golden plastic) for impaling my pussy, a huge anal cone (178×76 mm black TPE) for impaling my anal, a latex hose (4 m, 10 mm) for tying through my cleft, flag rope (2 x 7.2 m, 5 mm white polyester) for tying my breasts, and alligator clamps (1 pair, jagged metal, cruel) for my nipples. “He” then styled me for work with red cotton panties, that might literally fill in as a provisory gag later, high-heel peep-toes, and T-shirt, 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 tits tight around their bases, making them swell, bulge and shift color towards purple, the huge anal cone shoved into my tight anal, the alligator clamps torturing my nipples, the hard dildo shoved into my wet pussy, and the latex hose bisecting my crevice uncomfortably tight but arousing. Then “He” had me go home like that, dressed but without my panties, hiding my adornments, by crowded bus. On my way home, the stimulation from the hard dildo as it shifted in my vagina with every step, the overfilled feeling from the huge anal cone in my rectum, the uncomfortable pinch on the membrane between my two lower intruders, 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, and the alligator clamps chewing my nipples agonizingly while nudged by the clothes, was making the trip very intense and uncomfortable. 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 tightly wound tape gag sealing my lower face, mouth stuffed with 3 used panties, adding 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 sisal ropes (8 mm sisal hemp, with a big padlock to cinch the wrist tie) after arranging a 1.5 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, sitting tied on my bed with a shoulder harness, my legs frogtied, my feet tied together sole to sole, toe by toe and around the blades, a rope around my neck tied down tight to my feet, forcing me into a bundled position, 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 1 orgasm 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.