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 spiky ball (60 mm soft orange plastic spiky dental dog ball) for stuffing my pussy, a bardex nozzle (178×50#100 mm inflatable silicon) for impaling my anal, a chain (2 m, 8 mm twist steel) for splitting my crevice, ankle irons (2 pairs, nickel-plated metal with 40 cm twist chain) for binding 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 provisional gag later, red as clothing color, and a let down hairdo.
“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 ordered me to cum twice, leaving me feeling thoroughly fucked and drained. 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 chain tied through my crotch, the spiky ball shoved into my pussy, the bardex nozzle shoved into my tight ass, 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 wicked stimulation from the spiky ball as it moved in my vagina with every step, the painfully stretched feeling from the bardex nozzle in my ass, the agonizing pinch on the membrane between my two nether stuffings, the hard but soon very slick and arousing rubbing through my crevice by the chain, 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 horse bridle, adding a 1.5 l enema through the bardex nozzle, a wide black leather collar, and 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. 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.