Another Thursday, another desired play with “Master Dice”. “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. Nowadays, “Master Dice” is actually an interactive web-page that both translates virtual dice rolls into clear-text instructions and at the same time generates the bulk of the reports, courtesy of a kind hacker friend of mine, saving me the efforts of both keeping track of a growing bunch of cheat sheets as the game evolves and of spending a lot of time writing these reports from scratch, which was becoming a growing distraction from the actual experience. This time, “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 pussy, a bardex nozzle (178×50#100 mm inflatable silicon) for stuffing my anal, a sisal rope (4 m, 8 mm brown sisal hemp) for bisecting my crevice, ankle irons (2 pairs, nickel-plated metal with 40 cm twist chain) for binding my boobs, and clothespins (1 pair, wooden, moderate) for my nipples. “He” then styled me for work with red cotton panties, that might be used as a provisory gag later, red as clothing color, short skirt, and a high ponytail 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 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 used and soiled panties humiliatingly pushed into my mouth, the clothespins tormenting my nipples, the hard dildo pushed into my vagina, the sisal rope bisecting my crotch uncomfortably tight but arousing, and the bardex nozzle pushed into my tight ass. Then “He” had me go home like that, dressed in just coat and boots, hiding my adornments, on foot through a green area, forced to stop 2 times to rub my clit just short of orgasm. On my way home, the stimulation from the hard dildo as it moved in my vagina with every step, the painfully stretched feeling from the bardex nozzle in my rectum, the painful pinch on the membrane between my two lower fillings, the rough but arousing rubbing through my cleft by the sisal rope, the clothespins pinching my nipples firmly 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 comfortable. The feeling of being so vulnerable and exposed, with just my coat barely hiding my nudity and humiliating adornments, was a real thrill, adding to my arousal.
When I came home, “He” had me strip naked again, but keeping my adornments, then gagging myself with a harness ball gag, adding a 1.0 l enema through the bardex nozzle, and nooses with 500 g weights on each nipple. 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 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.
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.