From bondage model to bondage slut.
If you are under the age of consent in your locality or you find stories of
bondage, pain and humiliation offensive, then why have you downloaded this
story?
If you are a discerning adult, then please read on.
Part Six
Johnny led me over to the centre of the photo area where a framework of pipes
had been erected. It was basically a vertical square. Across the base was a
wooden plank with two holes about five feet apart. This plank was hinged and at
the moment was open. Johnny had me stand so that the openings in the planks
were around my ankles. "This is known as leg stocks," he told me. The object
of these was obvious, to keep my legs secured wide apart.
Having secured me in the leg stocks he pulled my wrists behind me and tied them
together, then fed the rope up behind me to the centre of the pipe that ran
above my head. He continued to pull on this rope until forcing me to bend
forward from the waist. He continued to pull until my arms were stretched in to
a vertical position above me and my upper body was horizontal. This actually
put a considerable strain on my shoulders. I tried to flex my knees forward to
reduce the strain but it was impossible because of the fact that my legs were so
widely spread. This position effectively kept my legs straight. This position
also caused my breasts to hang down from my body under their own weight and my
long hair was now hanging down towards the floor.
Johnny approached with the strip of leather that I knew meant that my breasts
were going o get tied. I watched as he turned my lovely soft breasts into hard,
sensitive balls of purpling flesh. This piece of leather though was longer than
the previous ones. After he had tied off my breasts he had a long end dangling
from the side of each breast. He led each of these down to my knees where he
tied it off, resulting in my breasts being pulled over towards the respective
leg. This added a backwards and sideways pressure on each breast that
compounded the effect of the compression on their bases.
Johnny stood back to allow the photographers and video camera room to get their
pictures.
When he was satisfied that the viewers had got a good look at me, Johnny came
back over to me. This time he took my hair into his hands and smoothed it until
he had it in a ponytail behind my head into which he had threaded another piece
of leather. He then pulled my head back using my hair to do so, and secured the
leather he had threaded into my hair to my wrists. This pulled my head back,
adding two more points of strain, across my stretched throat and my scalp where
my hair was being pulled upwards to support my head. To complete this part he
brought forward a dental mouth spreader, which he inserted behind my teeth and
used to spread my mouth to its maximum. Yet another point of strain to compete
for my attention with the others he had applied.
Again he stood back to allow the subscribers time to admire the bondage he had
applied to my by now helpless body.
Strangely I was finding that these competing points of strain were having an
aphrodisiac effect on me and I was beginning a low sexual burn. Something deep
in my psyche was reacting to what was happening to me. I wondered how much of
this was due to the restriction of the bondage, how much was due to being naked
and sexually available, and how much was due to the knowledge that I was the
object of the lust of an unknown number of men (and perhaps women). I had
always being a bit of an exhibitionist, dressing in the most provocative clothes
I could find, right from the time I started to develop in my teens. I had always
enjoyed being the centre of attention and had shortened my skirts as far as I
had been able to get away with. I had maintained this provocative way of
dressing right through until after I got married. I had cooled it in my outer
clothing but had continued it in my underwear and bedroom wear. It had kind of
been wasted a little recently since Sam had started working away such a lot.
Maybe I was an exhibitionist at heart.
Johnny came forward with some leather straps dangling from one hand and two
rubber dildos in the other. He went round behind me. I felt his fingers
smoothing a cold cream into my asshole. It was obvious that I was going to get
one of the dildos in there and the other in my cunt. Of course, I was now
unable to object, even if I wanted to. With my mouth fastened wide open by the
dental spreader I couldn't make any coherent noises. Tied as I was, I couldn't
move my body away from him. I just had to let him get on with it. When he was
happy that I was sufficiently lubricated, he slowly eased one of the rubber
cocks into my ass. No lubricant was necessary for my cunt because I was flowing
like river. When both the prongs were settled in me to his satisfaction, he
used the straps to fasten them into position by securing one strap tight around
my waist then the other strap was fed between my legs front to back and attached
front and back to the waist belt. I enjoyed the fullness but other than that
there didn't seem to be any purpose to the dildos. I was in no position to make
them move about in me, they were just there.
Johnny stood back for the cameras to project the art form that was me to all
those lascivious subscribers.
After the photographers had finished their circling of my body Johnny came over
and slowly ran his hands over the stretched skin of my body, exploring the way
my muscles were tensed against the various strains, talking to the audience as
he did so, pointing out to them the effects of the bondage. Eventually he stood
in front of me, and leaned forward to cup my hard breast mounds in his hands.
In doing so he brought his mouth to my ear and began to whisper telling me how
all the men watching wanted to fuck me. He told me that there were men out
there who would love to replace the rubber cocks in my ass and cunt with their
own hard fleshy rods. He told me that they would love to cum deep in me,
painting my cunt and ass walls with their sex cream. He told me that in this
position my mouth was just right for deep throat fucking and that they would
love to make me swallow their cum until my stomach bulged with their offerings.
He told me how much he knew I would love to be fucked and that next time, if I
wanted it really bad, he would arrange for me to get some nice hard cock. He
told me that he knew that I loved being tied up, and that he could arrange for
me to be tied up and fucked as often as I wanted. He asked me if I wanted to
suck cock now. He could call Tex back in for me if I wanted. He reminded me
that he had a real nice fat cock and that he loved fucking girls in bondage and
I was a girl in bondage. I could not move my head so I couldn't let him know
how much I would like to get a real cock right now. I would prefer to get it in
my cunt, but anywhere would do. I just wanted a cock. I was ready and willing
and tied as I was I was sure able. I tried to speak through the gag. "Fuck me.
Fuck me" was what I tried to say, but it just came out as a grunt of expelled
air. I defy anyone to make coherent sounds when their mouth spread as wide as
mine was, especially anything beginning with F. Lips are needed to pronounce F
and K for that matter. So I did not get what I wanted. But I did respond in my
head. I had to acknowledge to myself that I had been turned on and still was
turned on, by everything that had happened to me. And I realised that I want
more, much more of this same treatment. This was sexual torment of an exquisite
nature.
Johnny stopped whispering to me and stepped back. I felt the dildos begin to
vibrate. I was already at the crest and so within seconds I crashed into a
tumultuous climax, screaming my pleasure through the ring gag. That at least
was possible. Wave after wave of please racked my already taught body. Every
muscle in my body went into spasm. I could feel myself jerking like a spastic
eel in rhythm with the contractions of my cunt and ass. I had heard the
expression "mind blowing" but this was the first time that I was actually party
to that kind of experience. It was wonderful, beyond description, but I was
experiencing it. Nothing would ever be the same again. I was hooked. A sex
addict.
End of Part Six
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