My Custom Made Leather Accessories

My Custom Made Leather Accessories

                                       CH 7

       I finally talked JR into tying me up for two whole days. On several occasions he’d kept me in bondage for twenty four hours and I’d loved it. Being helpless for hours at a stretch is erotic in the extreme for me. Sometimes I get muscle cramps and I am always stiff afterwards, but it excites me beyond belief. And now I wanted to be tied for a solid forty eight hours. JR had reservations but I nagged until he gave in.

       We started at eight am on a Saturday morning.

       I ate a solid breakfast then drove to his house wearing only a short raincoat. I unbuttoned the coat as I walked to the house and by the time I got to the porch it was open all the way. Before I rang the doorbell I looked up and down the street and saw that there was no one in sight, so I took the coat off and stood naked on the porch.

JR’s eyes lit up when he opened the door. I posed and pirouetted for him, but when a neighbor’s lawn mower started up he grabbed my wrist and yanked me through the door. Once safely inside he hugged me and gave me one of the longest, most passionate kisses I’ve eve had in my life. My pussy was throbbing when he finally broke away.

       “Would you like to do anything before we get started?” I asked him. “I noticed a set of hooks in your porch ceiling, would you like to tie my wrists to them for a while?”

       “Don’t tempt me,” he said. “But you asked to be tied up for two days, and that’s what you’re going to get, but no sex.”

       “No sex?”

       “Nope, bondage only.”

       “I didn’t say that I wanted no sex,” I protested.

“Bondage only,” he repeated. “Lets go.”  

It was his way of punishing me for nagging.

He tied my wrists and led me down the basement stairs. I was surprised to see the center of the room curtained off with canvas. JR pulled the cloth aside to reveal an inner curtain of heavy blue velvet. Inside was a jail cell. 

My darling JR had taken the time to build a little prison for me.

He’d made the bars out of thick wooden dowels and painted them gray to look like iron. But wood or not, they were strong enough to keep a person locked in.

Inside was a bed, nothing else.

Now I don’t know how many people normally get sexually aroused at the sight of a prison cell, but I did. It meant that I was JR’s prisoner and prisoners are helpless and wonderful things happen to me when I am helpless. My pussy was very damp by the time he unlocked the door.

He grasped my upper arm firmly and marched me inside.

“Sit down and be silent,” he commanded. I did as he said.

JR walked out of the cell then pulled back a section of the curtain to reveal a tall rack painted dark red. The rack held coils of rope, metal shackles, leather straps, nipple clamps, dildos, and a bunch of other things that I didn’t recognize. He’d been shopping.

He took down an armful of things, came back to the cell and dumped everything on the bed. He motioned for me to kneel and buckled a new slave collar around my neck. It was high and very stiff and I couldn’t move my head. Then he placed cuffs on my wrists and ankles. I was so excited that I giggled. That got me gagged.

JR clipped my wrists to a hook in the ceiling and stretched me up until I was on tiptoes. I hoped he would play with my breasts but no such luck. I jiggled them invitingly but he ignored me. JR can be very single minded at times.

He picked up a corset and buckled it around my body. It was new and closed with buckles and laces. It felt loose at first but JR began tightening laces until it was snug. Then he tightened the buckles, then the laces again and so on until it felt like my body was encased in iron. My waist must have been very small. It was also hard to breathe.

JR sat back and watched me making sure that I was all right and when I’d gotten used to it I nodded to him.

He took up a very thin strap and buckled it to the front of my corset, ran it between my legs and threaded it through a ring on the back. He tightened it with the same diligence until I was squeaking. I’ve worn pussy ropes for years but I think that was the tightest one ever. It felt like a knife blade in my pussy.

That wonderful strap was so tight that I nearly had an orgasm. JR saw the look in my eyes and sat back and waited until I calmed down. Part of his evil plan was to keep me from having any orgasms during my confinement. (Damn the man, I’d asked for bondage, not celibacy.) After a while I was able to breathe normally and he resumed his work.

He slipped a leather binder around my legs and it too had buckles and laces. JR tightened them until my legs were squeezed together. I liked the feel and wiggled to let him know.

He stood beside the rack and looked over the things on it. He tapped a set of nipple clamps and looked questioningly at me. I considered them, but they were too small so I shook my head. He pointed to another set, bigger and more painful looking. I shook my head again. He went to the worst set. Alligator clips with terrible looking teeth. My nipples perked up and I nodded. He took down the smallest set and came into the cell. I sighed in disappointment.

“You have to walk before you run,” he told me.

Walk before I run? I’ve been wearing nipple clamps for years, thank you very much!

Oh well, part of being tortured is not getting everything you want, and JR is an expert at driving me crazy with frustration.

He attached the clamps to my nipples. They hurt a little but they were very exciting too. I took deep breaths for a few seconds, then when the pleasure overruled the pain I nodded to him.

JR looked me over carefully, then walked out. A second later the lights went out.

I hung in pitch dark.

For hours.

Bondage teaches you patience.

Ok, I asked for it. My wrists soon lost feeling but I was used to that, and I got a small ache between my shoulders but I was used to that too. That wonderful pussy strap was doing its job and kept me very hot. The problem was the binder prevented me from moving my legs at all. I couldn’t even rub them together and I couldn’t create any friction with my pussy strap.

It was quiet and dark and exciting.

So I just hung there.

And hung there.

And my pussy throbbed incessantly.

Bondage teaches you patience, but try telling that to your pussy.

My body slowly stretched until my feet were flat on the ground. I shuffled back and forth. I lifted them off the floor and put all my weight on my wrists. I twisted and rocked but nothing helped.

Bondage also gives you lots of time to think.

The room was so utterly dark and quiet that I began to imagine odd things. I’d never experienced sensory deprivation before but I’d read that it could lead to some very vivid hallucinations.

And I had some. They seemed so real that it was like watching a movie. I began to see odd lights, strange shifting colors, and bizarre shapes and forms. I was having hallucinations and some of them were very erotic.

Hands materialized in the air and grabbed for my breasts. They missed.

Strange people appeared and they were all interested in my breasts. The men could enter my cell but the women couldn’t. Some wore costumes like at an erotic Halloween party and some were alien creatures as if from a space ship.

The men fondled my breasts. Some were gentle and others were rough but they all felt nice. The strangers came and went but one woman kept trying to get to me. She wanted to have sex with me but they kept her outside the cell. She reached through the bars but couldn’t quite touch me. JR taunted her by whipping my breasts then offering her the whip. He held it just outside her grasp. I was excited by her naked lust for me and I wanted her to whip me, but I wanted JR to stay close too. I was afraid that he might abandon me to her.

I noticed that I could see things very faintly and realized that the lights were coming up very slowly giving my eyes time to adjust. Dear sweet JR had thought of everything.

When the room was fully lit JR walked in. I twisted toward him and jiggled my boobs frantically. I whimpered and pleaded under my gag, raised my eyebrows piteously and made thrusting movements with my hips. He looked me up and down, then removed my gag.

“Fuck me,” I begged. “Oh, please, please fuck me.”

“Nope, you’ve only been here two hours,” he said. “Are you ready for a break?”

“I’m ready for you to be inside me,” I groaned.

“Not yet. Now, do you want to eat something?”

I shook my head.

He held a water bottle to my lips. I drank deeply.

“Do you need to go to the bathroom?” he asked.

“No, I’m all right.”

“Ok.”

He removed the clamps from my nipples, then released my wrists from the hook. It felt wonderful to lower my arms and he massaged them and my shoulders. I tried to press my breasts against him but he would have none of it.

He made my lie on my face on the bed and laced a single glove onto my arms. I liked the feel of that. Afterward he clipped the rope to my ankle cuffs and hoisted me upside down.

JR slipped a blindfold over my eyes, buckled the gag back in my mouth and put a new set of clamps on my nipples.

The clamps were stronger and more painful than the first set, but they were still a long way from those wicked alligator teeth that I wanted.

He gave me a push and made my body swing. I heard him walk out. I swung for a long time.

Hanging upside down is sexy; it makes my breasts feel stretched in a different way. JR had done it to me before but this time I was a little worried. I hoped he wouldn’t leave me very long.

After a while I felt something at my breasts. The clamps tightened on my nipples and I realized that JR had added some weights. I wondered how he had returned without me hearing him. Oh well, never mind. The added pressure was exciting.

I felt a push and I was swinging again. The weights bounced against my neck. Then I was spinning.

Uh oh, not good. I felt queasy in my stomach. I whimpered in my gag and the spinning stopped. JR lowered me onto the bed and unclipped the rope from my ankles. He removed my gag and blindfold.

“Are you ok?”

“Give me a minute,” I said. “My tummy didn’t like spinning.”

He held me close and my stomach settled down. He gave me a long drink, then removed my arm and leg binders.

He ordered me to kneel on the floor, and for a second I hoped he might allow me to suck his cock, but I should have known better. He made me back up to the bars and put my feet through the spaces. I scrunched backwards and he pressed my body back until I was braced tightly against the bars. He slid a folded blanket under my knees then raised my arms over my head and tied them to the bars. He wrapped ropes around my waist and chest pulling my body very tight against the bars. It was slightly hard to breathe again. Then he went out of the cell and tied my ankles together. He came back inside and tied more ropes to my knees and upper thighs and tugged them tight to the bars. Complete overkill but JR likes tying ropes to my body. 

He gave me another drink then held up a blindfold, then a gag.

I opened my mouth wide and he started to put the gag in.

“Wouldn’t you rather put your cock there, instead of a rubber ball?” I asked.

“Later, now do you want the gag or not?”

“Yes, and the blindfold too,” I said. After all, this was my idea so I might as well suffer all I could.

After he put the gag in my mouth and the blindfold over my eyes he walked out.

Humph, what was the matter with the man? Here I was on my knees and he wouldn’t put his cock in my mouth? I stewed for a while imagining all the ways I could please him in that position. Well, if he weren’t interested in letting me suck his cock then I’d think about other men who would be.

Damn! He forgot my nipple clamps.                

       

                               CH 8

I thought about various men I knew.

My boss is a nice man and he’s showed an interest in me for years. He hadn’t paid much attention to me before I met JR but when I opened up sexually he started flirting with me. I was careful not to get involved in a workplace affair but I couldn’t help teasing him just a bit. I’d bend over to give him a peek down my blouse or let him look up my skirt when I crossed my legs, but I never went too far. I’ve fantasized about having him tie me over his desk and screwing me silly. I bet he’d like to have me suck his cock. Lets see, how about if he tied me on my knees under his desk and made me suck him while he worked. Even better, what if he made me do it while he met with clients?

Hmm, how about my sons’ football coach from high school? Now that was a hell of a man, large and very muscular, and he’d blatantly eyed my boobs every time we met. I was mildly frightened by him but intrigued, and knew better than to get caught alone with him. He’s not the kind of man to take no for an answer and I’ll bet he would have me naked and on my back in a heartbeat if he had the chance. He’d probably love to see me on my knees. Oooh, he might march me out onto the football field and make me kneel at the base of the goal post. Ah, and after he forced me to suck his cock he would allow the team to get in line and I’d have to take care of them all. Hmm, this fantasy has potential. Now it’s Friday night and game time. I’ve been tied to the goal post naked on my knees and at the other end of the field another naked woman is tied to that goal. Her son is a player on the opposing team. Each time one of the teams scores a touchdown the mother of the other team has to suck every player, right in front of all the people in the stadium. Oh, how about this? The winning team gets to take the other team mother home and keep her in slavery until the next game. (Now I’d never hoped that my sons’ team would lose, but this would be different.)   

I thought about the college boy clerk at the motel. He was the only man besides JR and my husband who’d seen me naked. (And over the years he’s had an eyeful). I bet he’d like to have me on my knees.

Actually he isn’t a college boy anymore. After graduating he stayed on at the motel. He told me it gave him time to write his books but I like to think it’s because of me.

Even after my divorce JR and I continue to meet at the motel about once a month. It was my suggestion. I told him that I liked getting back to the old room where our affair began. (I didn’t tell him that I was flirting with the clerk.) It also gives me a chance to wear skimpy outfits in public. It’s the only place in Denver that I dare indulge my exhibitionism.

I’ve gotten more daring over the years and wear some pretty revealing outfits to the motel. I’ve taken to wearing shorter and shorter skirts, low cut blouses, spike heels, and usually no underwear. Its fun dressing like a slut and I’ve been propositioned more than once by men who mistake me for a prostitute. I find it quite flattering. 

My relationship with the clerk began the first time he saw me in bondage. JR displayed me to him while I hopped in the motel room and later the young man propositioned me. He assumed that I was a prostitute and offered to pay for my services that very afternoon. I wasn’t offended (how could I be considering the circumstances?) In fact, I was flattered at his attention, especially considering that I was twice his age. I didn’t accept his offer but I’ve been teasing him for years.

There’s been very little physical contact between us. Usually the most I permit is an occasional pat on my bottom, but I’ve been allowing him take pictures up my skirt for years. He’s always waiting with his camera and I try to park close to the office. I take my time getting out of my car and if no one else is around I open my legs and let him snap a few pictures. He must have hundreds by now.

It’s also fun to talk dirty to him.

One Saturday he stopped me as I was leaving. He had a photograph of my pussy.

“What is that mark on your skin?” he asked. “Its in every picture.”

“Its my brand,” I told him.

“Its what?”

“A brand. You know, from a red hot branding iron.”

“You’ve been branded?” he gasped.

“Um hmm. Just like a cow. It’s my master’s brand.”

“Do you mean that you really are his slave?”

“Body and soul,” I answered proudly.

“He forced you to be branded?” He was aghast.

“Heavens no,” I laughed. “It was my idea. I had to beg him to do it.”

“My God.”

I smiled.

He peered at the picture. “I can’t make out what it is.”

“Its my master’s initials, like these.” I showed him my purse.

“The brand matches your purse?” he gasped.

“And my wallet and checkbook too.” I took my wallet out of the purse and showed him. “I have his brand on all of my leather accessories and some of my clothes.”

“Your clothes?”

“Yes, I’ve had it embroidered on some sweaters and blouses and my panties.”

“I didn’t know you wore panties,” he said.

“Almost never, you naughty boy,” I laughed. “But the few pair that I own have my master’s monogram.”

“And your body too,” he marveled.

“That’s why I keep my pussy shaved, so people can see it,” I said.

“You show it off to people?”

“Every chance I get,” I said. “Here, take a close look.” I scrunched down, raised my skirt and opened my legs. He leaned inside the car and bent close. I giggled, wondering if anyone was watching.

“Good God. That must have hurt.”

“It was the most incredible orgasm of my life.”

He shook his head in awe. He started to reach for me, then stopped himself. The looked into my eyes. My self restraint went right out the window.

“Just this once,” I said to myself.

I took his hand and guided it to my pussy. He never took his eyes off mine. He touched the brand gingerly with the tip of his thumb. He caressed me softly, then grabbed my entire pussy and squeezed. A couple of his fingers went inside and a sweet little orgasm raised me out of my seat.

“Good God,” he repeated.

“Yeah, me too,” I gasped.

He kissed me while his fingers continued to explore the inside of my body. Finally I pushed him back.

“That’s all you get,” I said. I put the car in gear and backed out. He held on as long as he could, and then grinned hugely as I drove away. I waved to him in the mirror.

Another occasion I wore my golden pussy chain and his eyes widened when I opened my legs. I let him shoot a lot of pictures that day.

Later as we were leaving he stood by the office door. We made eye contact and I sensed he wanted to talk to me so I drove around the block and waited until JR was gone, then I went back to the motel. The clerk came to my car.

“What in the world do you have between your legs?” he asked.

“My pussy,” I answered.

He laughed. “No, you have something that sparkled in the sunlight.”

“Oh that? Why that’s just a piece of jewelry.”

“Jewelry?”

“It’s a pussy chain,” I explained. “You’ve seen it before.”

“I have?”

“Yes, I was wearing it the first time you saw mw naked. I was hopping in the room and you heard the bell tinkling.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember. What’s it for?”

“It reminds me that I belong to my master,” I said. “And it keeps me excited, especially when I wear it in public, and it looks nice, and I can . . .”

“Come into the office,” he interrupted. “I want to take more pictures.”

This was a command, not a request, and I was thrilled by his determination. I obeyed.

I followed him into the office, unbuttoning my blouse as I went. He ordered me to stand in front of the counter and lift my skirt. I did as he commanded and he took a whole roll of pictures. I posed with my feet apart, with one foot on the coffee table and sitting on the couch with my feet apart. I unclipped the chain and dropped it on the desk while he took close ups of my pussy. I hopped onto the desk and lay across it with my feet in the air, and then I knelt and spread my knees while he took pictures from behind. He carefully avoided getting my face in the pictures.

Even though I’d just spent hours having sex with JR, I became very excited. I felt very submissive and had almost decided that I’d do what ever the clerk wanted. I wondered what else he might order me to do, and how far I would go.

I was saved when a customer walked in. I managed to get my skirt down just in time. The man stopped in his tracks as I climbed off the counter. He looked me up and down while I buttoned my blouse. I was in a red mini skirt that barely covered the tops of my stockings and a white blouse that was almost transparent. I wasn’t wearing a bra and my nipples were clearly visible. I turned to a mirror and patted my hair in place. My face was bright red. 

The clerk went behind the desk, set his camera on the counter and calmly asked how he could help the gentleman. I picked up my purse and walked out the door.

I heard the man ask the clerk if I worked out of the motel. I was embarrassed, but thrilled too.

I looked back and the man was standing in the doorway staring at me. I wanted to run but I forced myself to walk slowly. When I got to my car I remembered that my pussy chain was still on the desk. I thought about leaving it but my exhibitionism got the better of me. I felt very wicked and daring. I took a deep breath and walked back inside, brushed past the man in the doorway and picked up the chain. I hung it around my neck, checked myself in the mirror again, then blew a kiss to the clerk and strutted back to my car. I was sorry that my door was away from the office otherwise I’d have given the man a look at my pussy.

I played with myself all the way home.

The next time I saw the clerk I was wearing the chain and I’d attached the bell. After he’d taken the usual photographs I walked to his chair and did a quick bump and grind to get the bell ringing. He understood instantly and nodded as if nothing would ever surprise him again.

One Saturday JR was late. I opened up the room then lounged in the doorway. I’d dressed like a complete whore that day. I wore a striped tee shirt that was at least two sizes too small, a miniskirt over stockings and a garter belt, high heels and no panties. My skirt was so short that it didn’t reach the tops of my stockings.

The clerk came out of the office and saw me in the doorway. I stuck out my chest and propped my foot against the doorjamb. He had already taken some pictures when I got out of my car, but he turned back to the office and emerged an instant later with his camera. He came toward me taking pictures as he walked.

I raised my knee higher.

He didn’t say a word. Neither did I. Nor did I cover my face; in fact I put my hands on my hips and lifted my chin. He knelt in the parking lot and took some close-ups and then I stepped inside and raised my skirt. He shot more pictures from outside the room. He started to enter but I held up my hand to stop him. I didn’t dare let him inside for fear that I might lose my resolve. 

I posed this way and that. I sat in a chair with my legs apart, then atop the table. I hit on the idea of putting my purse in the picture, so I leaned against the table, stretched my legs out and held the purse so the initials on it were beside the initials on my tummy. The clerk took several shots, and then shook his head. I knew that he wasn’t sure that he was getting clear pictures of the brand so I moved the chair close to the door and knelt on it. I put my purse between my knees and he snapped several more shots. Then I took off my blouse and sprawled on the bed. He stood in the doorway and shot four rolls of film before JR arrived. We didn’t speak during the whole episode.

I was slipping my skirt off when the clerk saw JR’s car approaching. He jerked his head toward the parking lot to warn me, hid his camera under his sweater and strolled casually away. I was standing naked in the middle of the room when JR walked in. His eyes lit up but before he could speak I grabbed him and dragged him to the bed. I was undoing his trousers when he remembered that the door was standing open.

JR closed the door, tied me to the bed and screwed me silly. I’d hoped that he would forget to close the door. I wanted the clerk to peek around the door and take pictures while JR fucked me. I wouldn’t have minded if anyone else had watched either.

Later I worried about having my face in the pictures. What if they showed up in some magazine, or if the clerk blackmailed me?

I didn’t think he would demand money, but what if he forced me to have sex with him? Oh dear.

That turned into an erotic fantasy. I wondered what the clerk would make me do. Would he just want to screw me? Would he tie me up, or make me hop for him? Or would he think up some entirely new? And I’d have to do it, wouldn’t I? After all, it wouldn’t be cheating on JR if I were forced.

I needn’t have worried. The clerk is a genuinely nice man and on the next visit he showed me the pictures and the negatives and graciously offered to allow me to destroy them. I looked them over and told him that he could keep them on condition that he print a set of eight by tens for me.

He did and I have the pictures hidden carefully away at home.

Since then he gives me copies of the pictures that he thinks are the most artistic or most erotic.  

The day that he gave me my copies he made another proposition to me.

“Would you be willing to model for me?” he asked. “A full session? I’ll pay you.”

“What kind of modeling?”

“As sexy as you are willing to go,” he said.

I put on a tough gal act.

“Would you want me to pose real raunchy, with a vibrator up my pussy and so forth?”

He nodded.

“Or would you want hard core sex?” I asked. “Are you planning to bring in two or three men and have them screw me?”

He didn’t seem to be able to speak. He just nodded again.

“Lesbian? Would you want me to pose with another woman?”

“Oh yeah.”

“I’ve never done lesbian sex,” I said. “But I suppose there’s always a first time for everything. I’ll have to think about that.”

“Sure.”

“How about bondage? You’ve seen me tied up,” I said. “Would you prefer that instead?”

“Absolutely,” he whispered.

“I’m sure you would,” I laughed. “And the second you get me tied up you’d take advantage of me, wouldn’t you.”

He took a long deep breath. “Probably. I honestly don’t think I could resist.”

“Why, you might rape me over and over and over,” I said coyly. “And I wouldn’t be able to stop you.”

“You could probably count on it,” he grinned.

“And for all I know you might decide to brand me, just like my master.”

“Oh, I’d never hurt you,” he said earnestly.

“Yes, but I like to be hurt,” I cooed. “I like pain.”

“Jeeeesus,” he whispered. “You’d really want to be branded again?”

“Of course, but how would I explain it to my master?”

“Where would you want to be branded?”

I pretended to consider it. “We couldn’t do it over my pussy, that spot’s already taken. I suppose it would have to be on my breast.”

“I’d better find where to have a branding iron made,” he said.

“Forget it,” I laughed. “Nobody gets to put their brand on me but my master.”

“Do you think he might sell you to me?” he joked.

“I certainly hope not,” I said indignantly.

“In that case do you think he might rent you to me for a day or so?”

“Hmm, you could ask him, I suppose.”

“How would you feel about that?”

How did I feel? I felt so hot that I was surprised that steam wasn’t coming out of my pussy!

“I’m just a humble slave girl,” I said, batting my eyes. “I would have to obey my master.”

“How about the photo session then?”

“I’ll have to think about it,” I mused. “But don’t count on it. I don’t think my master would approve.”

“We could keep it very discreet,” he said.

“I have to warn you, I don’t come cheap.”

“Name your price,” he said.

“I’ll let you know.”

I wondered what he does with those naughty pictures. Are the walls of his home covered with them? Does he carry one in his wallet? Does he masturbate while looking at them? That made my pussy tingle. I wondered if he shows them to his buddies and tells them about the older woman who comes to the hotel dressed like a whore.

He still offers me money for sex and I always turn him down. It’s become a standing joke between us.

He also repeats the invitation for me to pose for him, and that is something different, because I have seriously considered accepting, and contrary to what I told him, I don’t need JR’s permission.

I still fantasize about having him watch through a hidden camera while JR tortures me.

Back in my cell I wondered what the clerk would do if he could see me on my knees. I’ll bet his penis would be in my mouth in a split second.

I imagined that JR and my ex husband were standing outside of the cell and forced to watch while I sucked on the clerk’s cock. The door was locked and they couldn’t interfere. The clerk was quite virile and I took him to orgasm after orgasm, and when he was finished my face was coated with his cum.

Another daydream had me arrive at the motel early. I parked in the alley behind the building and sneaked in the back door. I permitted the clerk to tie me up in the back room of the office and take pictures. He didn’t fuck me but he made me crawl to the front desk and kneel under the counter. He tied me there then took off his trousers and put his cock in my mouth while customers came in and out. When JR arrived to pay for the room I had to work very quickly to make the clerk come. If I didn’t he wouldn’t release me. He chatted with JR as I sucked and rolled my tongue over his cock and finally I felt my mouth fill with his cum. He didn’t let on that anything was happening and JR never dreamed that I was under the desk. He finally walked out and the clerk went away to the restroom. He came back, untied me, and I rushed to get dressed. I ran out the back door, drove to the front parking lot and met JR at the room with the taste of the clerk’s semen still in my mouth.

That hallucination seemed very real.

Did I mention that bondage gives you lots of time to think?

CH 9

JR came back after an hour and released me. He insisted that I eat a snack and drink lots of water. After I ate I decided to go to the bathroom and JR, still in character, tied my wrists behind my back and led me upstairs by a leash. Outside the bathroom he untied my wrists. He closed the door behind me and waited patiently. When I came out he led me back downstairs.

In my cell he removed my corset and pussy strap and ordered me to kneel while he set up my next position. He brought out a wide plank, padded and covered with vinyl. He made me lie on the plank and strapped me to it. He tied my wrists to hooks on the edge, then buckled nylon straps around my body and the board from my ankles to my forehead. When he finished I couldn’t move a muscle. The bondage felt very sexy and I asked him to squeeze my breasts, but he just grinned evilly and shook his head. He lifted the upper end of the board off the floor, leaned me against the wall and walked out.

“Don’t forget my gag,” I called out.

“I thought I’d give you a rest from it,” he said. “I assumed your jaws would be tired.”

“They are,” I said. “But I want the works, so put it back in. Blindfold too.”

He picked them up.

“Any chance of a little bitty, teensy weensy whipping on my breasts?” I asked.

“Nope. Bondage only until Monday morning,” he said. “Open up.”

He walked out, the room went dark and I lay like a papoose against my board.

Damn! We forgot the nipple clamps again!

I couldn’t move. That’s all there was to it. I just couldn’t move. I couldn’t even turn my head. I lay there at a slight angle for a very long time, or so it seemed. The straps were tight against my body and made me feel very sexy. The problem was I couldn’t move and there was no one to touch me. I couldn’t even wiggle my hips.

I waited for a couple of hours.

JR came back and repositioned me. He tipped the board so that I was slightly face down. I tried to talk through my gag so he took it out.

“What is it?”

“Nipple clamps,” I demanded. “The big ones.”

“Oh, ok.”

He put one of those horrid, nasty, wicked painful alligator clips on my nipple. And boy did that hurt! I squirmed for a few minutes, then managed to get my whimpers under control. Then he put the second one on. Wow!

JR waited until I was calm. “Are you ok?” he asked.

“Yes, put the gag back in,” I said.

He did and I heard him walk out.

The new angle made my body press against the straps and that felt sexy. The problem remained though, I couldn’t move.

After three or four days (or perhaps half an hour) JR came back and moved me again. This time he clipped cables to hooks on the ends of the plank and hung it horizontally above the floor. He tested it to make sure everything was secure. He pressed his weight on the board, and then pushed it so that I swung back and forth. That felt pleasant and I purred under my gag. I tried to wiggle but the straps were so tight that I couldn’t move.

“Do you like this?” he asked.

“Um Hmm.”

Would you prefer to be face down?”

“UM HMM!”

“Ok.”

He unhooked the cables at the lower end of the board and allowed it to rest on the floor. Then I felt myself turning over until my weight rested on the straps. He raised the end and clipped it to the cables and I was lying face down.

“How’s this feel?” he asked.

“Mmmmmm,” I crooned happily.

He pushed the board and got me swinging. The movement felt wonderful, but I slowed to a stop. He pushed me again, then walked out.

The darkness, the silence, the inability to measure time made me experience more bizarre visions. I slipped into a dream where some men came and took me away. JR brought them to my cell where they examined me carefully, then agreed to buy me. JR made them sign a receipt for me.

They lifted the board and took me up the stairs. My breasts bounced as they walked. A big truck waited at the curb and they carried me to it in front of everyone, the neighbors, passing motorists, and kids on their bicycles. Inside the truck they slid my plank onto a rack, and then closed the doors and drove away.

There were other women in the truck, dozens of them, all strapped to planks face down and all gagged. We all had big boobs, which swayed with the motion of the truck. The swaying was better when the truck turned a corner or slowed to a stop. Each time that happened the truck was filled with muted giggles.

I wondered where we were going and assumed we were being taken someplace to be used as sex slaves.

No wait, we’re being taken to a milking farm. Yes that’s it.

(I’d read a silly story in a bondage magazine about women with big breasts who were kidnapped and taken to a dairy farm where they were kept in stalls and strapped into milking machines. They were given hormones to make them produce gallons of milk each day and. they were screwed from behind to keep them contented. The writer obviously had a terrific breast fetish and at the time I’d laughed at the story, but now, in my hallucination, it seemed very erotic.)

We rode for a long time and occasionally the truck stopped to pick up another woman. When all the racks were filled they took us to the dairy.

When the truck arrived we were unloaded and carried into a huge barn. It was modern and very clean, almost sterile. The walls were spotlessly white and dozens of men walked around wearing white coveralls and surgical masks.

We were removed from our planks and chained by our wrists to an overhead conveyor like an assembly line. The conveyor took us through a series of sprayers just like a car wash. We were soaped, rinsed and soaped again. Men scrubbed our hair as we slowly moved past, then warm air blowers dried us.

After drying we were unhooked and walked to another room. We were placed on our hands and knees in metal frames and held in place by wide steel bands. The frames were lifted by a crane and placed on a conveyor belt. The belt moved slowly through a curtained doorway. Screams and squeals and occasional giggles indicated that something interesting was happening on the other side. When I passed through the curtain I gasped with delight.

It was the branding room. 

A man stood beside the conveyor holding a red hot electric branding iron. My pussy flashed white hot when I realized that I was going to be branded again. 

As each woman moved slowly past him he pressed the iron to her bottom. The brand was the trademark of the dairy. Every woman screamed or squealed in delight, according to her personality, but every one had an orgasm when the iron touched her skin. A few yards further on a second man branded each woman with a serial number. The squeals and orgasms were repeated. I trembled in anticipation as the conveyor slowly brought me closer.

When I reached the first man I smiled up at him. He ignored me and pressed the brand against my bottom. Incredible sexy pain! Orgasm, orgasm, orgasm!

I’d barely stopped screaming when I came to the second branding station and felt a hot iron again.

I sagged in my frame, weak with ecstasy, and was barely aware that I was lifted off the conveyor belt and placed on a robotic cart. The cart rolled slowly through corridors until I emerged into a gigantic milking room. The room held row after row of stalls full of women. The robot took me to an empty stall and deposited me there. 

The nearest women smiled in welcome but didn’t speak. I looked past them and saw hundreds of stalls as far as the eye could see. All full of big titted women.

Each woman had milking tubes attached to her nipples. The tubes were transparent and pulsated as milk flowed through them. The tubes connected to overhead pipes, which discharged into a huge glass tank in the center of the building. Hundreds of gallons of milk poured into the tank every second.

Men walked around checking the tubes, monitoring the flow of milk and screwing the women. I noticed that each woman had a light over her head. The lights glowed red,  green or blue depending on how much milk the woman was producing. Green meant a steady flow, red indicated that the woman was running low, and blue showed that she was pumping out an exceptional amount.

When  woman’s light burned blue one of the men would reward her by screwing her from behind.

A man approached. He put on surgical gloves and examined my breasts. He took his time and measured them carefully. He tugged on my nipples and squeezed my boobs firmly. I liked what he was doing and purred to let him know. Finally satisfied that they passed his test he hooked a set of milking tubes to my nipples. He tugged to make sure that they were secure then turned the pump on. Something soft yet firm closed over my nipples and began a steady squeezing motion. The sensation felt wonderful and I watched proudly as my milk appeared in the tubes.  The man watched until he was satisfied that everything was working correctly, then walked behind me, unzipped his trousers and slid his cock inside me. He grasped my waist and began thrusting very powerfully. The tubes pulsated in rhythm with his thrusts into my pussy. I had an orgasm quite soon but he didn’t stop. My bonds kept me from writhing about too much and even in the throes of ecstasy I didn’t miss a beat of producing milk.

Soon I was pumping a lot of milk and my light went blue. He fucked me harder and faster and I was very proud of myself.

I wondered how much milk I could make every day.

I awoke from my dream and felt my breasts swinging for real. I wondered how that had happened, but felt them slow to a stop. I realized that I was doing it. I had been pumping my weight to make the board swing. I wanted to feel that again so I tried to get the plank swinging again. Tightly bound as I was I couldn’t move much but discovered that I could jerk my hips just enough to make the plank shimmy. Slowly and patiently I got myself moving. Eventually I managed to get the board swinging in a wide arc and my breasts flopped with the motion. The alligators felt tight and sweetly painful on my nipples. Nice, very nice. The board didn’t swing evenly. It began to turn slightly at the top of each swing. That made my breasts jerk which felt heavenly. I pumped harder until I was panting with exertion. If only my pussy strap was connected to the board I might be able to bring on an orgasm.

JR came back, removed my gag and gave me a drink through a straw.

“What’s with the swinging?” he asked. “Are you bored?”

“Oh no,” I whispered. “I’m having a very nice time.”

“Ok, if you say so.” He started to put my gag back.

“Wait, put weights on my nipples, please.”

“These have been on long enough,” he said. “I ought to take them off.”

“No,” I said. “I want you to torture my breasts.”

“If you wear these things too long I’m afraid you might damage the nerve endings in your nipples,” he said.

“Just one hour longer,” I pleaded.

“Well, all right,” he said grudgingly. “But they come off then.”

“Thank you,” I said nicely. “But don’t forget to add the weights.”

“Ok, but you asked for it.”

He hung thin cords from the alligator clips, then added weights to the cords. They pulled the teeth deeper into my skin and I couldn’t suppress a tiny squeal.

“Too painful?” JR asked.

“Nope, not enough.”

He added more weight. Ouch, ouch, ouch!

“That’s enough,” he said firmly.

“One more on each breast,” I begged.

He took a deep breath, then did as I asked. The extra weight made my breasts feel like they were coming off, but boy, was the pain sexy.

“Thank you very much,” I groaned.

He put the gag in my mouth, gave my plank a push and walked out.

I hung there reveling in the pain in my breasts. After a while, as I grew used to it I decided to get myself swinging again. This time I hit on the idea of swinging my plank lengthwise instead of side to side.

It was easier to get moving but the weights didn’t help, they swung opposite of my body, which pulled painfully (wonderfully) on my nipples. Once I got going it was easy to maintain the motion. I didn’t have to think about it. I was able to concentrate on what the weights were doing to me.

I kept myself swinging for a long time.

Sure enough JR returned in an hour and removed the clamps. I growled in protest through my gag but he ignored me and left.

I got myself swinging again, but this time I went sideways; I liked the side to side swing of my breasts better. 

I was concentration so hard on keeping myself in motion that I didn’t notice a slight touch on my breasts. It was so light that I wasn’t sure if it was real. I waited and sure enough I felt it again. It seemed to be at a certain point in each swing. It was the lightest, most delicate touch on my nipples, like a butterfly landing. I was so surprised that I forgot to pump and the board slowed to a stop. Oh no.

I whimpered in my gag but set to work getting myself moving again. It seemed to take forever but finally I was swinging in the same long arc as before. And sure enough I felt that light touch on my nipples.

What could it be? Were my nipples brushing the floor? No, that would happen on the bottom of the arc. Was I close enough to be touching the bed? Possibly. As I pondered the question I forgot to pump and began to slow. I growled in determination and got myself moving again. The straps seemed to be getting looser and I could shift my weight better. I even got my breathing in rhythm with the motion. Inhale a deep breath as I approached what ever was touching my nipples. Push them as far out as I could. Exhale on the return, pump my hips, then inhale again. I was breathing around the gag and it was noisy, but what did I care, no one was watching.

My nipples were hard as rocks and I tried to guess what was touching them. Could it be someone’s tongue? What about JR’s penis? Was he lying under me with his cock pointed up, just high enough to touch my nipples? No, it would be too hard. This mysterious thing was soft. Was it a feather or a flower? Perhaps the soft fur of a kitten lying on the floor?

I imagined a playful kitten watching my breasts as they passed over him, batting at my nipples with his paws. If only he would extend his claws and rake them across my skin.

I imagined him lying on his back, all four paws in the air trying to catch my breast. Back and forth he followed it with his eyes. Finally he rolled over, crouched, then leapt up to fasten his claws into my breast. He struggled to keep his grip as I swung. He hung upside down, and he almost fell off so he sank his teeth into my nipple. I knew that I would want to scream in orgasm, but I’d clench my teeth and keep silent so I wouldn’t frighten him away. I’d have to enjoy the pain in silence.

Suddenly I was attacked by dozens of kittens. They emerged from the shadows and ran through the bars to leap onto my breasts. The jumped and scrambled and tumbled over themselves to reach me. There wasn’t enough room on my breasts for them all, so some jumped up and sank their claws into my tummy and legs. They mewed and hissed as they fought to cling to me. Some fell off only to leap up again. Then one of them realized that he was at my nipple and he began to nurse. He put his tiny mouth on me and sucked. A kitten on the other breast caught on and sucked on that nipple. Suddenly all the kittens were pushing and fighting, crowding to get to my milk.

All the kittens but one.

He was at my crotch and he wasn’t interested in milk. He chewed through the strap that covered my pussy, and when it fell away he discovered my brand. Curiously he traced it with his paw, and then he licked it with his tiny, delicate tongue. Then his paw touched my pussy and explored its outer edges.

Something was wrong.

I realized that the touch had disappeared. Was it truly so? I waited until I swung over the spot. Sure enough, it was gone. I groaned in frustration. I’ll keep going, maybe it will return. Several more passes but nothing was there. Damn, damn, damn.

I went limp and allowed the board to stop swinging. I felt exhausted.

“Something tells me that you were thinking some pretty erotic thoughts,” JR said. “I can’t wait to hear what they were.”

I started at the sound of his voice. I had no idea he was there.

He raised the board higher, then unhooked the cables at the lower end. He gently swung my feet down then began unstrapping me. I was very weak and when he got to the last few straps he steadied me with his hand on my chest. He released the final strap and I toppled forward. He caught me on his shoulder and carried me upstairs.

JR lowered me gently onto the bed. I sat for few moments flexing my legs and stretching.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” I said breathlessly. “I’m fine.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

He motioned toward the bathroom and I nodded.

“Dinner’s on the table,” he said. “Come down when you’re ready.”

I went in and freshened up then walked down to the kitchen.

                                       CH 10

The food smelled wonderful as I sat down. JR took a coil of rope off the counter and pulled my arms behind the chair.

“Don’t I get to eat?” I asked as he tied my wrists.

“Sure, you just have to eat in bondage.”

Ok, I didn’t see how I could but he was the boss.

He pulled my knees apart, which felt nice, and tied my ankles to the back legs of the chair. Then he wrapped rope around my body, crossed between my breasts, and snugged my torso firmly against the back of the chair. Then he dragged his chair close and fed me.

I liked being fed. The food was delicious and I was suddenly ravenously hungry. JR ate out of the same plate, which was nice and intimate.

“What were you thinking about while you were swinging back and forth?” he asked.

I told him of my hallucination about kittens. He chuckled when I told him how I liked the feel of their sharp little claws on my breasts.

“Should I buy you a kitten?” he asked. “And train him to bite your nipples?”

“Oooh, yes.”

“We’ll see,” he chuckled. “Did you really imagine that you felt them biting you?”

“Yes, the daydream was so real that I swear I could feel my breasts touching something as I swung.”

“What was it?”

“I’m not sure, but it was soft and delicate, like a flower, or a feather, or the fur of a kitten. That’s why I slipped into the dream about kittens.”

“Hmm. What else did you hallucinate about?”

“That was it, just the kittens.”

“Did you have an orgasm?”

“No, you stopped me too soon.”

“Really?” he looked surprised. “You came that close?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” I said. “Probably not, but I was very erotic.”

“You looked erotic swinging back and forth,” he said. “Want to try again?”

“Can I? I thought you would tie me in some other position next.”

“I’d planned to,” he said. “But that can wait if you’d like to hang under that board again.”

“Yes, please.”

After dinner I made another trip to the bathroom, then JR marched me back to the basement. He propped the board on two chairs and told me to lie down. He modified my bondage by stretching my arms above my head and tying my wrists to the end of the plank, and then he opened my legs and tied my ankles together beneath the board. I liked the position, especially since my knees were apart. I hoped he might play with my pussy but he didn’t. I had to settle for a long wonderful kiss.

I trembled with excitement as he strapped me to the board, and felt a delicious tingle in my pussy when I felt him raise me up. The board rotated until I was face down again. Just before he left he asked if I’d like to wear nipple clamps again.

Oooh, I was in a quandary. The clamps would be delicious, but they would be in the way if the kittens came back. I tried to shake my head.

JR tickled my feet for a second then left the cell.

I tested my bonds and they were just as tight as before. I wiggled as much as I could trying to get myself swinging. The board didn’t move very much and it seemed to take forever to feel the slightest motion. I shifted my weight, twisted in the straps and finally got my boobs swinging which made the plank swing ever so slightly.

Slowly, carefully, trying to keep a good rhythm, I felt myself swinging. When I finally got going in a wide arc it seemed easier to stay in motion. In fact, I felt a delicious tingle in my pussy.

I swung for a long, long time and the feel of my breasts moving beneath me was exciting.

I resumed by daydream about kittens clawing at my breasts, but as nice as it was I didn’t quite reach that trancelike state I’d had before. Perhaps I was trying too hard. Relax.

I discovered that I could move my head slightly. The strap across my forehead wouldn’t allow me to raise my head away from the board but I could slide a bit under the strap. I found myself turning my face in the direction the board was swinging. I almost wished that I wasn’t blindfolded so I could watch my breasts swing. Oh well, the room was probably dark anyway.

I noticed that the board swung more smoothly than before and it didn’t wobble. I suppose that my new position balanced it better.

Did something touch my breast?

It was faint, so faint that I wasn’t sure. I held my breath through the next arc. Nothing. Nothing. . . wait, there it was again!

Ooh, so soft.

It’s gone again.

I swung for several minutes and felt nothing. I strained against the straps trying to push my breasts lower; maybe it was still down there, but nothing.

I kept swinging, wondering if I was imagining the touch. Was I going insane? Was sensory deprivation making me crazy? Or was sexual deprivation doing the same thing? Maybe all I needed was a good screwing. Hell, I KNOW I needed a good screwing.

I wondered what time it was. How long until my weekend ordeal was over and JR would fuck me? I knew that I’d have an orgasm the instant he was inside me, but I’d have more after that. JR is really a sweetheart and he’d understand my desperate need. But how could he not need some relief of his own? After all, here I was naked and bound since early morning. Why didn’t he want me? How could he not tear my straps off and ravish me then and there?

I’ll bet the hotel clerk would have.

Hmm, what would he think if he could see me swinging back and forth? Would he think it’s too weird? He saw me hopping in the hotel room; that was weird. Did my bouncing breasts excite him? They must have because that was the day he propositioned me.

He’s young and virile and probably perpetually horny like all young men. Would he just want to tie me to a bed and fuck me, or would he like to play games like JR? What things would he think up? He seemed very intelligent; I’ll bet he has a good imagination too. I pictured him lying under me trying to catch my nipples in his teeth.

It was back! Something touched my nipple.

I’m sure I felt something. Don’t let it be my imagination. There it is. Oh heavenly. I know I felt it that time.

Another swing of the board and the touch is still there. It feels stronger. It’s soft but decidedly there. Here it comes again. . . yes.

I crooned happily in my gag. What could it be? Was it really the fur of a kitten? I wouldn’t put it past JR to run out and get one. Was there a pet store close by?

On the next swing I felt something different. It was firmer, more solid. The next swing the thing felt very solid and my breast rolled over it. I could just see a kitten arching his back to meet my breast. 

The next time I felt a tiny prickling point on my skin, or did I? It wasn’t there the next swing, nothing was, but the next time I felt the softness. It stayed for the next several swings, then a repeat of the faint scratch.

Then something bit my nipple!

Tiny terribly sharp teeth sank themselves into my nipple from two sides and I screamed into the gag with a bone shaking orgasm.

White hot lightning flashed from my nipple straight as an arrow into my pussy. I jerked and writhed and screamed and screamed, and could not believe the intensity of that orgasm. The teeth held for a moment, then disappeared. Had the kitten fallen? Did my scream frighten him away? No, come back kitty. Bite my other breast!

Even as I faded into unconsciousness, my thoughts were marveling on the incredible wonderful feeling between my legs.

I don’t know how long I was out. When I woke I was still bound, still blindfolded and my board was motionless. I groaned and tried to move. I wanted to get loose but the straps still held me tight. I hoped that JR might have heard me and come down but there was only silence.

I was too tired to try to get the plank moving again, so I just hung there. My pussy still tingled and my nipple was sore. What could have bitten me? Could JR have gone out and gotten a kitten somewhere? Even if he had, what would make the kitten want to bite my nipple?

Perhaps I imagined the bite. Maybe the soreness was imaginary too. (Maybe I was loosing my mind.)

I hung under the plank and waited.

JR came down and released me. I groaned with stiffness as I stood. I touched my nipple and it was sore. I looked but couldn’t see any marks.

JR was rolling the straps up and putting the board away. When he finished he locked my wrists behind my back and led me upstairs. Once again he left me alone in the bathroom. I looked again at my nipple but I couldn’t see any teeth marks, but when I squeezed, it hurt. I leaned close to the mirror but still couldn’t see anything. I opened the door.

“Have you seen my glasses? I asked JR.

“No, they’re probably in your purse,” he said. “What do you need them for?”

“I want to check something on my skin.”

He went into the living room and returned carrying my purse. He handed it to me then sat down on the bed. Even with my glasses I couldn’t see any marks.

“What are you looking at?” JR asked.

“Something bit me in the basement,” I said.”

“What was it?” he asked. “An insect?”

“No, the bite was too large for that. It felt like a kitten bit me.”

He stared at me for a moment. “Aren’t you carrying that fantasy a little too far?” he asked.

“I don’t think I imagined it,” I said. “It felt very real, and I’m still sore from it.”

His eyes narrowed in disbelief. He bent close and peered at my nipple. “I don’t see anything out of the ordinary.”

I pushed it toward his face. “Look closer.”

“Oh no you don’t,” he said. “This is just a trick to get me to touch you. Remember what I told you, no sex until Monday morning, just bondage.”

I squeezed both breasts defiantly.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he said. He grabbed my wrists, spun me around and locked the handcuffs on them.

“Oh, all right,” I said. “What now?”

“It’s bed time,” he told me. “Do you want a snack first?”

“What time is it?”

“Midnight.”

I was flabbergasted. I’d been in bondage for sixteen hours! My nipples perked up.

“I’m not hungry,” I said. “Where do I sleep, back in my cell?”

“Would you like to spend the night swinging under that board?” he asked.

My nipples got a little harder. “No,” I said after a moment. “I think a few more hours on that thing might drive me insane.”

“I’m not so sure it hasn’t already,” he said. “Imagining being bitten my a non existent cat is pretty crazy.”

“Maybe so,” I said. “But imaginary or not, I had a terrific orgasm.”

“Get out of here,” he said in disbelief.

I smiled sweetly at him.

“Well, whatever,” he said. “But you’ll sleep up here in the bed with me. I couldn’t hear you if anything went wrong in the basement.”

“Thank you,” I said, puckering up for a kiss. He kissed me; at least I got that much contact from him.

He put me into a tight hog tie, pulled the covers over me and turned out the light. He isn’t entirely cruel, at least he snuggled up to me.

Half way through the night I woke up to feel him untying my ankles. It felt nice to stretch my legs. My wrists remained tied but that was ok and I went right back to sleep.