The combination of some kinky dreams and knowing Monday is “Master Dice” day made me hope for a hard training day, where especially my tingling pussy and naughty breasts needed some intense and brutal attention. “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 huge dildo (203×64 mm skin-colored silicon) for stuffing my vagina, anal beads (5 x 40 mm black silicon balls) for impaling my rectum, a crotch harness (20 mm wide, sturdy black leather) for binding through my crevice, ankle irons (1 pair, nickel-plated metal with 40 cm twist chain) for binding my tits, and clover clamps (1 pair, metal and rubber, hard) for my nipples. “He” then styled me for work with red cotton panties, that might double as a provisional gag later, yellow as clothing color, T-shirt, a high ponytail hairdo, and heavy makeup.
“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 clover clamps torturing my nipples, the crotch harness bound through my crevice uncomfortably tight but arousing, the huge dildo pushed into my craving vagina, the used and soiled panties humiliatingly pushed into my mouth, the anal beads pushed into my tight anal, and the ankle irons 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, by crowded bus. On my way home, the brutal stimulation from the huge dildo as it moved in my vagina with every step, the arousing feeling from the anal beads in my ass, the slight pinch on the membrane between my two nether stuffings, the interesting rubbing through my crevice by the crotch harness, the brutally and unyieldingly hard and tight ankle irons 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 clover clamps pinching my nipples painfully 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 mostly pleasure.
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, and a bullet vibrator taped to my clit on high intensity. For the final tie, “He” had me use metal (police-cuffs and chains with padlocks) after arranging a 1.0 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, forcing me to more and more painful and maddening orgasms as my battered clit grew more and more sore from the intense 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.