CH 1

       Want to know when you’ve been married too long? Its when you come home with whip marks on your breasts and your husband doesn’t notice.

I had just become a sex slave to another man and had spent the afternoon being tortured. I’d been tied to a bed,  whipped and screwed for hours and when I walked in the house my husband didn’t even look up from the television. He ought to have sensed something!

To be fair, my husband didn’t know I was someone’s slave, but still I felt that he should have seen that I was different now.

I never expected to become some man’s sex slave, in fact I’d pretty much given up on sex all together. I was forty one, over weight, and so used to being married to the same dull man that the thought of change never entered my mind. Not divorce, not having an affair, nothing. My life was just a routine of work, home, cooking, cleaning, television and the next morning getting up and starting all over again. I was so used to my dreary life that I didn’t give it a thought.

       The washer was on the blink, so I took the dirty clothes to the laundromat. I was waiting for the dry cycle to finish when a man walked in. I glanced up and met his eyes and something funny happened.

       I got a strange thrill when he looked at me. The man held my gaze until I blushed and looked down. When I peeked up he was putting clothes into a washer but he caught me looking and smiled. I blushed again.

       I’m not used to having men look into my eyes. At my age, and after giving birth to four kids, I knew exactly what I look like.

       I wasn’t exactly fat but could stand to lose a few pounds. My face used to be pretty, but twenty years of kids, bills, and a lazy husband had left their mark. My legs were still nice, but no one saw them. I never wore skirts anymore and my husband stopped looking long ago. My biggest asset was my chest.

My breasts developed when I was twelve and got big very quickly. People stared at them by the time I was fourteen. Now they are even bigger, and heavy and saggy. When the man looked at me I instinctively pulled my sweater closed.

       I was folding my things when he walked over. I felt him beside me and desperately tried not to blush. He got straight to the point.

       “I’d like to get to know you,” he said. Talk about direct!

       My throat was suddenly very dry. “Why?” I managed to ask.

       “I want to tie you up and play with your breasts,” he replied.

My mouth dropped open. I couldn’t believe he’d just said something like that. I looked at him in amazement.

He looked back smiling calmly. Even in my astonishment I noticed that he had nice blue eyes, calm and intelligent looking. He didn’t seem like a weirdo, but then . . .

“Do you always go around saying things like that to women?” I demanded.

“No, you’re the first,” he said calmly.

“Do I look like some cheap tramp you can pick up?” I asked.

“No, I wouldn’t want you if you were.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Please don’t be offended,” he continued politely. “For what it’s worth, I get the feeling that you are a nice woman.”

“Well, you have a funny way of showing it,” I said.

“Oh, I’m just too old to play games,” he said.

“So you hang around laundries looking to pick up women?”

“No.”

I was surprised at his simple answer. I tilted my head in disbelief.

“I don’t try to pick up women in laundries, or anywhere else,” he said. “But I noticed your eyes when I walked in, and I saw something special.”

“Oh?” I said. “It was my eyes you noticed?”

He laughed openly. “Yes, your eyes, but of course I noticed your breasts too.” He looked at them unabashedly. “Magnificent.”

I must admit that I felt flattered.

“And you want to tie me up?” I said. “Are you some kind of pervert?”

He shrugged. “Depends on your definition, I suppose. I like to tie ladies up and make love to them, but I’m not a sadist, I don’t enjoy causing harm.”

“What if the woman doesn’t want to be tied up?” I asked.

“Then she doesn’t get tied up,” he replied reasonably. “I don’t kidnap women and I’m not a rapist.”

“Do you tie up a lot of women?” I asked.

“Not lately, but I have in the past.”

“Oh really?”

“I’ve never met a lady who doesn’t enjoy it.”

I looked at him in disbelief.

“You’d be surprised,” he said. “I honestly believe that almost every woman thinks about being tied up, if only one time in her life.”

“Every woman on Earth wants to be tied up?” I asked.

“Of course not, I’m sure there are some who don’t,” he said. “But every lady that I’ve asked has eventually let me tie her up.”

“Eventually? How do you talk them into it?” I meant it sarcastically but he took my question seriously.

“I build trust with them.”

I believed him. He was nice looking and had a direct air about him, I was sure that a lot of women would be attracted to him.

“So you think I’m one of those women? You think I would allow you let you tie me up just because you ask?”

“No,” he said. “You would want to get to know me first.”

“I think you just asked me to let you tie me up.”

“No, I told you I wanted to tie you,” he smiled. “It was a conversation starter. Now I’d like us to meet again socially and get to know each other. When you get comfortable with me I hope you’ll decide to let me tie you up.”

I was about to ask what he intended to do to me once I was tied, when it occurred to me that I was actually discussing bondage with a total stranger!

“I’m a married woman,” I said. “I have a husband and four children.”

“Leave them at home,” he said.

“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation,” I said. I picked up my basket and started toward the door.

He walked with me and held the door open. “Forgive me for being so direct,” he said. “I hope you’ll think my invitation over.”

“Fat chance!”

“I will be here a week from today,” he said. “At the same time.”

I didn’t reply as I loaded my basket into my car.

By the time I got home I was a nervous wreck. It was a long time since a man had shown interest in me and it was both flattering and disturbing. At home I tried to be nice to my husband and even hoped to have sex for reassurance, but as usual he didn’t notice. He fell asleep in the recliner, then came to bed and snored all night long. I tried again the next night, and the night after that, with no success. I grew resentful, which was an emotion I’d suppressed for years. Why couldn’t he see that I needed some attention? I stewed about it all week and finally decided that I would go back to the laundromat.

I was so nervous that I was shaking on Saturday. When I arrived at the laundromat I drove around the block trying to build enough courage to go in. Finally I took a deep breath and parked my car.

The man showed up a few minutes after I arrived. He smiled warmly and I felt weak in the knees.

“I’m glad you came,” he said. “I was afraid that I’d scared you off.”

“I’m just here to do laundry,” I said haughtily.

“Come on, no games,” he said. “Either you are interested, or you’re not. What is it to be?”

I blushed, then furious at myself, I said: “It is to be.”

“Splendid,” he said, as if I’d just accepted an invitation to lunch. “Lets go.”

“What, right now?” I gasped.

“Yes, now. Finish the laundry later.” He walked out and I followed him.

We got into his car and he drove to a motel. It was just an ordinary motel, not fancy, not run down. I waited in the car while he went into the office and got a room. He took a small satchel from the back seat and led me into the room. My heart was pounding as I followed him.

       Inside he closed the drapes, then dropped the satchel on the dresser and took out several coils of rope.

“Are you serious about tying me up?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” he replied. “Did you think I was kidding?”

I picked up a coil. It was ordinary white cotton clothesline. My mind was spinning. I’d made up my mind to have sex with this man, this total stranger, but I’d forgotten about being tied.

“I thought we were supposed to meet over coffee or something,” I said. “Get to know each other first.”

He took my hands in his and looked deep into my eyes. I didn’t look into his, I fell into them, like falling into a deep rich blue pool.

“I don’t think its necessary,” he said softly. “Do you?”

“No,” I whispered.

“I want to undress you, tie you up and make love to you,” he said. “Right here, right now.”

“All right.” 

“If you are afraid of being tied, we can forget it,” he said.

I looked at him helplessly. I didn’t know what to say.

“Have you ever been tied up?” he asked. I shook my head.

“Ok, let’s try to get you used to the idea.” He took the coil from my hand and unrolled it.

“Give me your hands,” he said. “In front.”

I wallowed nervously, then extended my hands. He crossed my wrists and wrapped the rope around them. He tied it firmly but not painfully.

“See if you can get loose,” he said. I twisted my wrists but couldn’t loosen the rope. He stepped close, grasped my wrists and raised my arms above my head. He held them with one hand and touched my breast with the other.

I gasped in surprise. His hand roamed over my chest, his touch was firm and confident. I blushed  ands stared at the floor until he touched my chin and lifted my face. He smiled at me and his smile was comforting.

‘I’m lost,’ I thought. ‘He’s going to do anything he wants and I’m going to let him.’

He unbuttoned my shirt part way, then slipped his fingers inside my bra. The backs of his fingers swept across my nipple, then pinched it lightly.

“See that hook over there?” he said. I looked and saw a sturdy coat hook beside a closet. “I’m going to tie your wrists to that hook while I undress you. If you aren’t comfortable with that say so and I’ll untie you. Understand?” 

I nodded. “Tie me to the hook,” I whispered.

He smiled in delight and led me to the hook. He gently pressed my back against the wall, lifted my hands above my head and tied them to the hook. I felt vulnerable, feminine and sexy. He returned his attention to my breasts, this time he used both hands.

My breasts weren’t very sensitive and I’d never enjoyed having them touched. It wasn’t that I didn’t like having them touched, its just that it did nothing for me, even my nipples were immune to arousal. Early in the marriage my husband had given them a lot of attention, but I made the mistake of telling him that I couldn’t feel anything. After that he seemed to lose interest in them.

The man, whom I’ll call JR, seemed delighted with my breasts. He squeezed and fondled them with great interest. His playing with my breasts didn’t excite me, but the situation did.

He finished undoing my buttons. My bra clasped in front and when he unhooked it my breasts spilled out. I hoped he wasn’t turned off by they way they sagged. They’re still firm but definitely need support, but I needn’t have worried, he loved them.

He lifted my breasts and felt their heftiness. He jiggled them up and down and from side to side.

“Do you like them?” I asked.

“Damn right I do,” he replied.  

He played with my nipples, gently at first, and then grew a little rough. He squeezed until it became painful, but oddly I didn’t mind. He realized that he was growing intense and paused.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

“Do what ever you want,” I answered.

He grinned like a boy and squeezed harder. “I’m going to see how much pain you can endure,” he said. “But I’ll stop when you tell  me to.”

“All right.”

He squeezed harder and harder. He watched my face and grasped my nipples so tight that I felt a strange deep intense feeling I’d never experienced before. I wasn’t sure it was pain or passion, but I didn’t want him to stop. 

JR really tormented my breasts. He pulled on them, he twisted them, he pinched them, and squeezed very hard. He pressed his thumbs against my nipples until they flattened against my ribs. He pinched my nipples and the flesh all around my breasts. His fingers felt like little mouths nipping here and there and I began to enjoy it. I closed my eyes and imagined that I was surrounded by hundreds of tiny birds who were flitting around my breasts pecking at them. I had a strange image that I was going to be nibbled to an erotic death as some strange form of sacrifice.

JR began to go easier on me, his pinches became lighter and softer. I was about to ask him to pinch harder when he lunged forward and bit my nipple!

I wasn’t expecting that and I squealed in surprise. He didn’t bite hard, but it felt wonderful and I experienced a thrill that I’d never felt in my life. It was so sweet, so intense that it amazed me.

JR held both breasts and pressed his face between them. I felt his skin against mine, the faint stubble of his beard, his breath, his warm moist tongue on my nipples.

“Bite again,” I gasped.

I groaned in delight when I felt his teeth again. He sucked my breast into his mouth and squeezed hard, hard, HARD! I was in such delight that I thought I might have an orgasm.

Then he stopped.

He simply took his mouth and hands away from my breasts and unsnapped my jeans. He slowly slipped them down to my ankles.

I blinked in surprise. One second he was interested in my breasts, now his attention had shifted to somewhere else. I wanted his mouth back on my breast but he was looking at my panties.

No one had looked at my body in years. I was embarrassed by my thick waist and the faint bulge in my tummy, but JR didn’t notice.

“Nice, very nice,” he said softly.  

I looked down and saw that my breasts were bright pink. I felt my pulse throbbing in my nipples and wanted him to torment them some more.

“Would you do those things to my breasts some more?” I asked.

“My pleasure. He took my nipple back into his mouth. It felt wonderful and I moaned with pleasure.

For the first time in my life I was experiencing arousal from my breasts.

“Don’t stop,” I whispered.

He played with my breasts for a long time. Eventually he sat back on his heels and looked at my crotch. ‘Look all you want,’ I thought. I kicked off my shoes and stepped out of my jeans.

I expected he’d take my panties off but he didn’t, not right away. He just looked at them. I opened my legs and waited.

“Well now, what do you think I should do now?” he asked with a smile.

“Anything you want,” I replied.

He extended his hand close to my pussy but didn’t touch me. I thrust my pelvis forward a little. He chuckled. I thrust further. He drew back. I giggled and pushed my belly as far as I could.

“Oh, all right,” he said. His hand got closer until at last he touched my tummy just above the band of my panties. His touch was very light. He made a tiny circle with his fingertip. He widened the circle until he got near my pussy, then he stopped. I groaned.

He touched my upper thighs with both hands, again softly, teasingly. His fingers crept upward closer and closer to my pussy, but again he stopped. I could have wept in frustration.

He turned away, then suddenly turned back and grabbed my pussy.

His hand clamped my crotch in a powerful squeeze. There was nothing soft or teasing now, he lifted me off the floor.

With just one hand JR lifted me off my feet! His fingers were strong and they held me like I was a child, and I had an orgasm.

An orgasm! I felt thunder and lightning in my pussy. Sweet, hot, deep, hard shudders pulsed upward from the pit of my soul to the top of my head. My eyes rolled up and everything went hazy.

When I opened my eyes a few minutes later JR was still holding me off the floor. He was watching my face with an expression of satisfaction. I blushed with pleasure. He smiled back, but then a look of determination came over his face. He leaned against me pressing his chest against mine, his grip between my legs intensified and he lifted me higher. I was being crushed between his chest and the wall.

My pussy was very sensitive, it was still throbbing and I wanted to relax and savor the moment, but he had other ideas. His free hand squeezed my breast very hard. I looked at him in puzzlement, I was used to sex with my husband where he rolled over and fell asleep as soon as I’d had an orgasm, but JR was different, as far as he was concerned, we were just getting started. His hand held me firm.

I was so sensitive that I tried to squirm free but my feet kicked helplessly. I was like a child in his grip. Finally he lowered me to my feet and removed his hand. I couldn’t stand, my legs gave way and I fell to my knees. The ropes on my wrists jerked tight and I squeaked in pain but my pussy flashed hot again and the throbbing in my breasts returned.

JR knelt and brushed my hair out of my eyes, then he smiled and caressed the undersides of my arms.

“Ok?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” I gasped. “Nothing like this has ever happened to me before.”

He chuckled and lifted me to my feet. I started to say something but he kissed me. His lips closed over mine and his tongue thrust into my mouth. I opened for him but that was all I could do, I was helpless!

He closed his hands over the ropes at my wrists. He ground his body against my breasts. His hands, his chest, his mouth were sources of pure delight for me. He was in control and all I could do was relax and enjoy.

During that long delicious kiss my legs opened by themselves. He slid a hand slowly down my body to my belly. I expected him to touch my pussy and hoped he would pick me up again, but instead he grasped my panties. He broke the kiss and without warning he tore my panties off!

My pelvis jerked forward, my panties held for a second, then the fabric gave way. The sound of tearing cloth was exciting. (Let me tell you, a woman hasn’t lived until she’s had her panties ripped off by a strong man determined to get at her pussy.)

JR tossed them aside and grabbed my crotch again. His middle finger slipped inside and I had another orgasm.

His fingers explored me as if he owned the rights to my body. I didn’t care, I wanted him to do anything he pleased.

I wanted him inside me right then and there! HIM! His cock, not his fingers. I didn’t want to wait, I didn’t want anymore warm up, I wanted to be fucked!

JR stepped away and looked at my pussy. I opened my legs wider and ground my hips seductively. He grinned in delight and folded his arms across his chest as if he was inspecting me. I dropped my hips and opened my knees a bit wider. I wiggled shamelessly and opened my legs as wide as I could. I dropped until my weight rested on my ropes. The ropes tightened but I didn’t care.

I’d never displayed myself like that in my life, not even to my husband, yet there I was, showing my pussy with total abandon. I thrust my hips back and forth and jiggled my breasts. I’d have done more if I hadn’t been tied to that hook.

“Wow,” he said admiringly. “Did you ever work as a stripper?”

“No,” I replied. “But I’ll sign up for classes if you like.”

“All right, but you only get to dance in front of me.”

He stepped close and touched my face. He smiled tenderly, then his eyes hardened into that look of determination. He twined his fingers in my hair and tilted my face up, then he kissed me again. The kiss lasted a long, sweet time. When he finished I didn’t think I could talk because my breath had been taken away.

“Do you want me to dance for you, or have you something else in mind?” I managed to whisper.

“I’m thinking of putting you on the bed,” he said. “With a little more rope.”

“What are you waiting for?”

He chuckled and untied my wrists.

I slipped off my shirt and bra and tossed them to the floor. JR took more rope from his satchel and motioned me onto the bed. I sat down.

“How do you want me?” I asked.

“Spread eagle,” he replied. “I’m going to tie your arms and legs apart.”                                     

“Ooh.” A tiny tingle ran through my belly.

I sat on the bed and held out my arms while he tied ropes to each wrist. He left a short length of rope then knelt and tied my ankles. He stood and motioned for me to lie back. I felt a faint misgiving, was I wise to let this man tie me to a bed? Oh well, it was too late to worry now. I lay back and stretched my arms out to the side.

JR decided that I wasn’t properly centered, so he had me shift over a bit. I wasn’t sure why it mattered, but I discovered that when it comes to tying up females, he is a perfectionist. Everything has to be just right.

When I was finally exactly where he wanted, he stretched one of  my arms very tight and tied it to the corner of the bed, then he tied the other arm.

He pointed at my legs and made a butterfly motion with his hands. I opened my legs.

“Wider,” he commanded. I obeyed.

He tied my ankles to the bottom corners of the bed.

I’d never been so helpless in my life, I was spread open and vulnerable.

JR sat beside me and looked at my body, he looked for a long time. I wasn’t used to being naked in front of anyone and I felt awkward.

“I’m afraid there’s not much to look at,” I said.

“Oh yes there is,” he said firmly.

He caressed my leg, slid his along the inside of my thigh toward my pussy.

He kissed my breasts, first one, then the other. He licked my breast then slowly worked his tongue down my chest, past my navel and stopped an inch from my pussy. “And it tastes good.”

His hand crept closer to my pussy and it was driving me wild. I opened my legs a bit wider.

“Hmm, you can move your legs,” he observed. “I’ll need to tie them tighter.”

“My legs are tight enough,” I said.

He chuckled evilly and slipped his hand a tiny bit closer to my pussy, close, but not close enough. I bit back a groan of frustration. He played with my breasts and thighs and tummy until I was trembling.

“This isn’t fair,” I said after a while.

“Why not?”

“I’m naked, but you still have your clothes on.”

He shrugged and began to undress.

JR was in his mid forties at the time. He was fit and strong and as soon as he took off his pants I discovered that he was very male.

I expected him to crawl on top of me and screw me senseless but its difficult for a man to screw a woman in a flat spread eagle position, it helps to have her legs up. JR had other ideas anyway, he wanted to play with my body some more.

He knelt beside me and kissed me again. There are many unique things about the man and one of them is that when he kisses me he goes all out. There are never any perfunctory little pecks. JR kisses with passion and a great deal of skill and even his lightest kiss makes my pussy tingle.

JR kissed me until I was light headed, and all the time one hand was near my pussy, the other was squeezing a breast. Mid way through a long, sweet kiss his finger found my clitoris and set it on fire. In seconds my hips were jerking in rhythm with his finger. He broke the kiss, made himself comfortable leaning on one arm and tickled my pussy until I thought I’d go out of my mind. He watched my face closely and each time I got close to coming he stopped. I pleaded with him, I whimpered, I begged and almost cried until finally he allowed me to have another orgasm.

I think if it hadn’t been for those ropes I would have levitated off the bed.

I’d never had more than a single orgasm at any time in my life, and here I had experienced several within half an hour. If I’d been with my husband we would have rolled over and gone to sleep after the first one, but things were to be different with JR, he kept playing with my pussy.

I discovered that one of the nice things about bondage is that a woman can just relax and accept what ever is being done to her. (Actually she has no choice). She’s helpless so there’s no guilt, no tension, no pressure to perform, just lay back and enjoy.

My pussy was ultra sensitive but JR didn’t care, he just kept playing with it. He kissed me, nuzzled my neck, nibbled my breasts and watched my face while his hand stayed busy between my legs.

There was nothing I could do but bite my lip and try not to scream while he brought me to another orgasm.

When I was breathing normally JR got up and sat across the room. I lay in my ropes and floated in a wonderful dreamy haze. After a while old habits kicked in and I thought that I ought to get up and go do something productive. I raised my head and looked at JR. He seemed to know what I was thinking, he just smiled and leaned back in the chair. ‘Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to lie here’. I lay back and closed my eyes. Eventually I dozed off.

I woke after about twenty minutes and remembered where I was. I wriggled happily and tested my ropes, they were still tight.

JR walked over. His cock was hard and I looked at it in anticipation. Was he ready to put it inside me at last?

Nope.

He knelt between my legs and looked at my pussy. And JR didn’t just look at my pussy, he relished it. I think that he looked at it more in that single afternoon than my husband had in twenty years. He gazed at it for several minutes, then bent forward and kissed it.

Just a simple kiss, I felt his warm lips, his breath, his skin against my thigh. It was only a kiss but I had a teensy tiny orgasm.

I gasped and arched my back, then I raised my head and looked at him in pure astonishment! How in the world had that happened? He grinned and bent forward again, only this time his lips hovered an inch away. I waited, then lifted my pelvis. He raised his face away. I thrust up again. He chuckled. Oh, the bastard!

“You like torturing women, don’t you?” I groaned.

“I sure do.”

I flopped back. “You should just use a whip on me. It would be kinder.”

“I intend to,” he said.

My head jerked up. “Wait a minute,” I said. “I was joking, I don’t want to be whipped.”

“You will eventually,” he said confidently. “And I believe you will like it.”

“I doubt that. I’m not into pain.”

“Were you into bondage before today?” he asked.

“That’s different.”

“No it isn’t.”

He began teasing my crotch. His fingers slipped across my skin, lightly, delicately, just barely touching me. His fingers circled my pussy, getting closer and closer, then sliding away. I tried to lie still, tried not to let him see how he was driving me wild. I was doing pretty good until he kissed my pussy again. That set off another micro earthquake between my legs.

I had barely exhaled in a long shuddering sigh when I felt his weight shift, then his mouth was on my pussy.

His whole mouth. It was open and hot and moist and his tongue slid inside me and every erotic experience in my life was eclipsed in a split second. Shall I describe the most wonderful, bone shaking, bed rattling orgasm? Could I? No matter what I try to put into words, it just won’t touch the explosion that roared through my entire being!

And it didn’t stop! He kept licking and probing until I thought his tongue must be a foot long. It seemed to find every hidden nook inside me. I loved what he was doing, but my pussy was so sensitive that I thought I’d lose my mind if he didn’t stop. I was thrashing and fighting my ropes and I was soon begging for mercy. He chuckled and kept going. My pleas grew more frantic until I was almost screaming. Finally he raised his mouth off me.

I was glad he did and I was sorry he did.

I was rolling from side to side like a stick in the surf. I didn’t realize that I was rocking myself. It was like an outside force was playing on my body. I felt like a child being tossed back and forth.

JR stood and poured a glass of water and offered it to me. I shook my head absently. I wasn’t thirsty. He sat down and watched me.

I was still rocking, part of my mind wondered why I was doing that. I’d never done it before, but it just felt good, so I rocked and rocked and slowly tapered off.

“It seems you like the feel of the ropes,” JR commented.

I looked at him in puzzlement, then realized that my rocking motion was alternately tightening the ropes on my wrists and ankles. I raised my head and looked at my wrists. The ropes were still very tight and my hands were pink. I pulled against the ropes straining my muscles. He was right, I did like the feel.

I let my head fall. “A lot of new things are happening today.”

“Um hmm, and we’ve only been here an hour,” he said.

“My God, is that all?”

“Do you need a break? Shall I untie you?”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Ah ha,” he laughed. “It looks like you’ve found some new pleasures in life. Ready for the whip?”

I felt a tiny bit of worry when he said that, but it passed. I’d already decided to trust this man and I owed him for all the wonderful things he had done to me. If he wanted to whip me I’d let him.

“I’m ready.”

He dug into his bag a came out with a little whip. I was surprised at how small it was. I expected something like a long black leather bull whip, but this was only about two feet long, made of thin strands of rubber and it was bright blue.

“Is that really a whip?” I asked.

“It sure is.” JR flicked it around a time or two, then knelt between my legs.

“Where are you going to whip me?” I asked. In reply he brushed it over my breasts. It didn’t hurt, in fact, it felt rather nice. ‘Maybe he’s joking about this,’ I thought.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Go ahead.”

He smacked the whip across my breast. It stung faintly, but didn’t really hurt. I looked at him and raised my eyebrows questioningly. He hit harder, then harder again. It took about ten blows before I really began to notice the pain, and even then it wasn’t unbearable, just a sharp sting. JR increased the force until I winced.

“Too much?” he asked.

“I can take it.”

“Good girl,” He hit a little harder.

I watched his face as he whipped me. I suppose I was worried that he might turn into a maniac but he didn’t act any differently than before. He wore that same determined expression and his cock was just as hard.

JR paused and massaged my breasts and it felt wonderful!. The pain made them sensitive and I enjoyed the feel of his hands. My breasts got hot during the whipping, very hot, and his hands made them hotter.

I was started to purr when he kissed each nipple then picked up the whip.

He hit harder this time. My breasts were getting very tender, but they tingled at each blow. To my astonishment I liked it!

It showed in my face.

“Are you starting to enjoy this?” he asked.

“Yes, yes I am,” I answered in wonder.

He gathered my breasts together and lowered his body onto them. He crushed them against my ribs with his weight. His face was close to mine so he kissed me, another of his long slow magnificent kisses.

“I have many ways of torturing these beauties,” he said jiggling them.

“Such as?”

“Bigger whips, nipple clamps, a punishment bra, lots of ways.”

“A punishment bra? What is a punishment bra?”

“A leather brassiere lined with rubber spikes,” he said. “The cups have straps and laces that squeeze the slave’s breasts.”

“Spikes?” I gasped

“Dull spikes,” he explained. “They won’t puncture the skin but they can be very uncomfortable I’m told.”

“Do you have a punishment bra?” I asked.

“No, I’ll have to order one for you,” he caressed my breast. “A very large one.”

What the heck. I’d just discovered that I liked having my boobs whipped, maybe I’d like wearing a punishment bra too.

“Ok, why not?” I said. “I’ll wear a torture bra for you.”

“Punishment bra,” he corrected me. “A torture bra is something different.”

“I don’t think I want to know.”

He chuckled. “We’ll explore those and other things over the next few months.”

“Months?”

“Maybe years,” he said. “I don’t think I’m going to let you get away.”

“Are you going to keep me tied up in this room for months?” Actually, the idea didn’t sound too bad.

“If only I could,” he said. “I meant that I plan to make you my lover for a long time.”

“I thought I was to be your slave girl.”

“Regardless of your title, I want to have you for a long time.”

“All right.”

“All right?” he asked. “Just like that? You barely know me.”

“I know you enough already,” I said. “I want to be your slave girl.”

“Thank you,” he said. “That’s very flattering, but for now, the day is almost over. I think its time to get down to business.”

He climbed off of me and untied my ankles. I was disappointed, thinking he was releasing me, but I giggled when he raised my leg in the air and tied it to the headboard, then he did the other leg. I’d thought I was wide open before, but that was nothing compared to this new position.

JR climbed on the bed and there were no preliminaries, he just shoved his cock inside me and that was that. It would have been insensitive of him except that I had an orgasm the second his cock was in me.

“Ooh,” I gasped. “And here I was beginning to think you weren’t romantic.”

He chuckled then settled down to screwing me.

JR can fuck a woman non stop for a very long time.

He just fucks, there’s no talk, no pauses or interruptions, just a long steady rhythm with his sweaty body on top of my sweaty body and his eyes looking into mine. I savored every second of our first time, I still savor every second after all these years.

When we came together I thought I was in heaven.

I woke up to hear the shower running. I was untied and covered with perspiration. I lay back and let my thoughts run wild. How did I feel? How should I feel? Guilty, satisfied, contented, sore, remorseful, wanting more, connected to a man and hoping he wanted more of me? The answer is: all of the above.

JR came out of the bathroom toweling his hair. He smiled at me and yanked me to my feet. He pulled me close and kissed me with another of those world class kisses.

“If you keep doing that you’ll need another shower,” I warned.

“Oh this is just a break,” he said. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

My mouth dropped open. I thought we were done, did he really want me to stay longer? Was he going to fuck me again?

He grinned at my confusion.

“I’m just kidding,” he said. “Unfortunately I know we both have to go.”

“Oh,” I was faintly disappointed. “What about . . ?”

“Next week, same time, same place,” he said. He began packing the ropes in the satchel.

I caught sight of myself in the mirror. My breasts were criss crossed with thin pink lines from the whip. For some perverse reason I was delighted. I touched my breasts lightly, running my fingers along the lines. They stung but the pain made my nipples and pussy tingle. Wow.

“Same thing?” I asked as I looked at myself. I’d have to be careful not to let my husband see my breasts until the lines went away.

“More of the same,” he shook the whip at me. “But better.”

“It better be better.” 

He snapped the whip across my bottom. It felt good and I squealed and ran into the bathroom.

       

                                       CH 2

When I got home I took a deep breath and walked in the house. My husband was glued to a ball game on television. He nodded and said hi, but didn’t look at me.

I dropped the basket of laundry and stared at him. ‘You fool!’ I wanted to shout. ‘Can’t you see that something has happened to me? Can’t you tell that I’m different since I left the house?’

My whip marks were under my clothing but the ropes had left deep grooves in my wrists and ankles. I shoved my sleeves up, picked up the basket and went to my bedroom.

I took my shirt off and puttered around the bedroom putting the clothes away. JR’s whip marks were quite visible above my bra and every time I looked at them my nipples got hard.

JR had destroyed my panties so I’d driven home wearing nothing under my jeans. I undressed intending to put on new panties and a fresh pair of jeans but decided ‘to hell with it.’ I slipped back into my jeans, took off my bra and put my shirt on.

We ate dinner as usual and no one noticed the change in me. No one seemed to see that my nipples were poking against my shirt. I didn’t expect the boys to, they were typical teenaged knuckleheads, oblivious to everything, and my husband barely spoke during the meal. Even Becky, my seventeen year old daughter who is very observant didn’t seem to sense anything. I wanted to open my shirt and show my marks. I wanted to tell them that I’d had at least six orgasms today.

Half way through dinner I felt JR’s cum sliding out of my pussy. My pants were soon sopping wet and that triggered one of the most erotic feelings I’d ever experienced in my life. Another man’s juices were inside me, mingling with mine. They had been put there by a cock, hard and powerful! It took a supreme effort of will power to sit quietly and not let on what was happening. After dinner I managed to get to my room without anyone noticing the wet spot between my legs.

I stripped naked and threw my clothes into the laundry hamper. I was trembling from guilt, nerves, and excitement. I was so agitated that I walked the floor naked for twenty minutes. Finally I forced myself to calm down, and wash up. That was when I noticed the whip marks. The thin pink lines had changed to dark purple welts and my breasts were mottled with reddish purple dots. The sight of them excited me! I was looking at myself in the mirror, turning this way and when my husband walked in. I quickly threw on my gown but he didn’t even look at me, he just brushed past into the bathroom. 

I buttoned my gown to my throat and went into the living room. Hubby returned to his recliner and never once made eye contact with me. I looked at him resentfully and after half an hour I unbuttoned my gown. One button at first, then all of them. He took no notice so I opened the collar as far as it would go and slipped it off my shoulder. The bruises on my breasts were visible to God and all his angels and my husband. God and the angels may have seen them, but my husband never even glanced at me.

Later that night while my husband snored beside me I lay awake and relived every moment with JR. I slid my night gown up and played with my pussy as I remembered the things that he had done to my body. I was surprised that my mind kept returning to the bondage, the memory of the ropes on my wrists was as strong as the memory of the sex. I rubbed the bruises on my breasts and grew so hot that I masturbated.

I sat up, opened my legs, and looked at my husband while I tickled my clitoris to an orgasm.

All week long I wrestled with guilt. I was in a terrible quandary. Should I allow myself this one indulgence, just one wicked fling then never stray again? Or should I let myself go and meet JR on Saturday?

Every night I lay awake remembering JR, and when I fell asleep I dreamt about bring tied up. I was surprised that my dreams dwelt more on bondage than romance.

By the end of the week I was sorry to see my bruises fade.  

Out of guilt I tried to seduce my husband, I tried several nights in a row. He didn’t reject me, he just didn’t notice what I was doing. No matter what I did he remained oblivious, so I gave up and decided that I would see JR again.

When I walked in the motel room JR grabbed me and kissed me until I was dizzy, then his hand was in my crotch lifting me off my feet. All my weight was in the palm of his hand and all of my passion was his to use as he saw fit. When he lowered me I sank to my knees and nuzzled the front of his trousers. I wondered if he would allow me to suck his cock but he grasped my wrists and pulled my arms up behind me. My head was forced down and he clamped my neck between his legs while he tied my wrists. I felt a delicious thrill as soon as he tightened the rope. He smacked my bottom with his hand. It stung but I liked it and wiggled my butt. JR spanked me a few more times then stepped away. I didn’t move, I didn’t look up, I held the pose. JR was pleased.

“Very nice,” he said.

“Thank you Master,” I said.

“Master?” he laughed.

“Isn’t that what a well behaved slave girl should call you?” I asked.

“Not necessarily,” he chuckled. “We aren’t into game playing here.”

“I sort of like calling you Master,” I said.

“You can call me that if you like, but I don’t require it.”

“I think I will,” I said.

“Ok, suit yourself,” he shrugged. “Would you like me to call you ‘slave girl’?”

“No, I’d rather you call me Mrs. Lee.”

“What ever for?”

“I want to be reminded of my husband while I’m in your ropes.”

“Uh oh, sounds like there’s a bit of resentment toward your husband,” he said. 

“There’s a lot of resentment,” I said. “If he wasn’t a fool then he would be the one tying me up, not you.”

“Wow, the poor chump.”

“Precisely,” I said. “And that’s enough about him. May I please suck your cock, Master?”

He looked down at me in mild surprise, then grinned and unzipped his fly. I watched as he withdrew his cock and edged forward on my knees. I opened my mouth and took him between my lips.

I was already excited, but being on my knees with my wrists tied made it better.

JR stood while I kissed and licked and sucked his cock. I wanted to make him cum and hoped he would spurt in my face but he stepped back.

“Don’t be in such a rush,” he said, breathing hard. “We have all afternoon.”

“Yes Master.”

He stood me up and undid my pants. I was trembling when he got to my panties. I wiggled my hips and stepped out of my shoes and jeans. He started to slide my panties down.

“Wait, don’t do that,” I said.

“Why not?”

“You’re not supposed to just take my panties off,” I told him. “You are supposed to tear them off.”

“Oh, of course,” he laughed. “Like this?” One yank and they were in shreds.

“Thank you Master.”

“You are welcome, Mrs. Lee. Now lie on the bed.”

He tossed several coils of rope beside me and started by tying my ankles together. I was disappointed. The last thing I wanted was my legs closed. Oh well . . .

JR used a long rope and wrapped it carefully around my ankles. He placed every coil neatly against the other. He was meticulous and took his time. I wondered why he was taking so long.

“Is there some reason you are using so much rope?” I asked.

“I enjoy doing this,” he answered.

“I thought the idea was to tie me up and have sex,” I said.

“Part of the fun is tying you up,” he said. “And don’t worry about the sex, you’re going to get plenty.”

“Anytime soon?”

“Oh ho, it seems I have a insolent slave girl,” he said.

“Just an impatient one.”

He took a gag from his satchel and showed it to me. It was a red rubber ball on a leather strap.

“Ok, ok, I’ll keep quiet,” I said.

He resumed tying my legs. After my ankles were secure he tied another rope around my thighs above my knees. Again he took pains to make each wrapping neat and even.

“Lets get the rest of your clothes off,” he said. “Roll over.”

I lay face down while he untied my wrists. Then he took off my shirt and bra. He pulled my arms back and retied them and again went through that maddeningly slow process of wrapping a long rope up my wrists and past my elbows. It felt like my arms were encased in a blanket.

He undressed and straddled my thighs and I felt his cock pressing between my legs. I liked the feel  and wiggled my bottom. He chuckled, leaned into me and pushed his cock a bit deeper until it pressed against my rectum. I’d never been screwed in my butt before, but I was willing to let him if that’s what he wanted. I didn’t speak but wriggled some more hoping he’d get the idea, but he was intent on tying my arms. When he got the rope all the way up to my elbows he tied another one around my upper arms. I didn’t see the point of that one since my arms were already secure, but JR just likes playing with ropes. 

I lay patiently and  wiggled my bottom from time to time. Finally, when  JR was satisfied that I wasn’t going to throw off my bonds and escape he lay atop my back and fucked me (in a fashion). He slid his cock between my legs so that it rubbed against my pussy and thrust up and down. It didn’t go inside me, not in my pussy or anywhere else, but it felt wonderful.

JR got excited fucking me like that but he has great self control and forced himself to stop.

He rolled me over then tied up my breasts.

Now I didn’t know that you could tie up a woman’s breasts, or for that matter, why anyone would want to, but JR did. He wrapped a thin cord around my left breast, starting where it met my chest. He wrapped it just as carefully and methodically as the other ropes. I was amazed at how the cord made my breast stand up. It provided support but it elongated my breast until it resembled a huge sausage, and it felt really weird too. He did the other breast the same way. 

I thought I was tied pretty securely but he must have thought I was an escape risk, because he tied more ropes on me.

He wrapped a rope around my chest above my breasts and upper arms and tied it tightly, then did it again below my breasts. Another long rope went around my waist several times like a belt. He sat back and examined his handiwork.

“Are we about finished?” I asked.

“No, why?” he asked. “Are you getting bored?”

“Nope, but I was wondering how many more ropes you can get on me.”

“Oh lots if I wanted,” he said. “But for today I’ll just add one more.”

He held up a short slender cord. “This is your pussy rope.”

I had never heard of a pussy rope, but I knew instantly what it meant. I gasped in astonishment.

“Are you actually going to tie my pussy?” I laughed.

“Yep. I don’t want it to escape.”

“Now I’ve heard everything.”

“Don’t count on it.”

He rolled me onto my side and I felt him fiddling around at the back of my waist. He was tying one end of the pussy rope to the rope that circled my waist, then he forced his hand between my legs. I tried to look down but my tubular breasts blocked my view. I felt him slide the cord over my waist rope, then gently tug on it. The cord tightened and I giggled when I felt it press against my crotch. JR tugged steadily until that wonderful, wicked little rope found its way between the lips of my pussy. He pulled until it was very snug and I was inches from cumming. He tied it to the front of my waist rope then twanged it to see how taut it was. That wonderful, wicked, tight, little rope.

“How does that feel?” he asked.

“Leave it there,” I whispered. “I’ll tell you in a few days.”

I lay back, closed my eyes and concentrated on that wonderful, wicked, little rope in my pussy. That little rope which connected me to the center of the universe. I would have been content to just lay there for about a week.

JR bent close. “Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” I crooned.

“Great, I think I’ll give you some time to yourself,” he said. “I’ll be back in a while.” He put on his clothes.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“I think I’ll go get a beer,” he said. “And I have a few errands to run. I might not be back until tomorrow morning.”

“Ok,” I sighed contentedly.

“Before I go. . .”  he produced a blindfold. I raised my head so he could slip it on.

“Would you like to wear the gag?” he asked.

“What ever you think, Master.”

“Ok, open up.”

I opened my mouth and felt him insert the rubber ball. It tasted funny and my mouth felt stretched, but it was bearable and I was content. A moment later I heard the door close.

I lay on that bed completely immobilized and in delight. I felt sexy, excited, secure and content. I shifted my weight slightly and felt the rope move in my pussy. That sweet, wonderful, wicked little rope.

I simply enjoyed existing.

I didn’t think that JR would leave me over night but it was ok with me if he did. I chuckled to myself when I imagined the look on my husband’s face the next day when I told him why I hadn’t come home: “Sorry dear, but I was tied up.”

JR didn’t keep me all night, in fact he was only gone about an hour. When he came back he removed my blindfold but left the gag in.

“Doing ok?” he asked.

I nodded deeply.

“Good, now I’m going to make things a little uncomfortable for you. I want to torment you  a little.”

Fine with me.

He rolled me onto my stomach and tied a short rope to my ankles. “Bend your knees,” he said.

I obeyed and he threaded the rope through a ring on the back of my gag strap. He placed his hand on my forehead and pulled my head back. That was unpleasant. I rolled my eyes at him.

“A little more,” he said, and bent my neck further. I growled under the gag.

“I know, I know,” he said. “Its uncomfortable. But I want you to try to endure it for a while.”

“Huh uh,” I managed to express my displeasure through my gag.

“Remember that bit about you calling me Master?” he asked. “Well the master gets to decide how much punishment the slave girl has to endure.”

“Huh Uh!” I expressed emphatic displeasure. He ignored me and tied the rope.

Now I thought the purpose of a gag was to keep me from screaming for help, but actually it was part of my bondage ensemble, it was also a way to put my mouth in bondage!

‘Ok, just relax,’ I thought to myself. ‘I’ve agreed to let him torture me, so lets just see how much I can take.’

JR lay beside me and looked me over. He ran his hands over my body and tugged on the rope in my crotch. I liked that but my neck was starting to hurt and I wanted to be released. I huffed and growled into my gag and tried to wiggle around but he just chuckled. My flopping around attracted his attention to my boobs and he decided to play with them. It must have been the ropes tied around them but my breasts were more sensitive than usual. They felt warm and tingly and the feeling increased when JR squeezed them. I stopped struggling and tried to enjoy

JR is a patient man. He can play with my body for hours. I don’t know how long he teased me that afternoon, but I was a quivering mass of superheated female flesh when he stopped. Besides his patience JR possess a wicked streak. Just when I thought he was going to take a break he grasped my pussy rope and yanked on it.

I wasn’t expecting it, and when that rope tightened against my clitoris the sensation sent me right through the roof! I had a lightning strike orgasm that almost made me faint.

I’d just managed to start breathing again when he yanked the rope once more. This time I screamed in my gag. He kept yanking on the rope and I whined and whimpered and made pleading puppy sounds to get him to stop. Finally he stood on the bed and lifted me up by my pussy rope!. All my weight was supported by that thin little cord through my pussy. (That wonderful, wicked, naughty, little rope.)

JR finally took pity on me and dropped me. I landed on my breasts and they twisted under me which hurt a little and tingled a lot. JR released the rope between my gag and my ankles but left the rest of my ropes on, then chuckling, he walked away and made a pot of coffee.

I lay on that bed feeling about a hundred different emotions. I was in a delicious haze of contentment, my pussy throbbed, my pussy hurt, I was angry, how dare he treat me like a lump of sex? I was happy, I loved being treated like a lump of sex, my pussy tingled and my soul was glowing with a pink mist of warmth and love. (Did I mention that my pussy tingled?)

JR let me lie there for a long time while he drank coffee and read a book. I closed my eyes and  felt  my pulse throbbing through my pussy.

Eventually JR removed my gag. My mouth was dry and my jaws ached, but I forgot all that when he kissed me, another of his long, deliberate passionate kisses. I was begging him to fuck me as soon as his lips left mine.

He untied my legs but left the ropes on my arms and body. He piled pillows in the center of the bed and lifted me until my bottom rested on them, then he tied my ankles apart. I was so excited that I could barely stand it. And would he fuck me? No!

Not yet anyway. He decided he had to torment me more by teasing my pussy. He played with it, slipped his fingers inside, pinched and tickled and kissed it, but when I got close to cumming he stopped.

Bastard, bastard, bastard!

He just grinned.

Finally he got ready. He positioned himself between my legs and pressed his cock against my pussy.

“Master wait.”

“What?”

“Don’t forget the whip,” I said.

“I might not whip you every time,” he said.

“Oh, I was hoping you would.”

“Do you like the whip already?” he asked. “You’ve only been whipped once.”

“I do like it,” I said. “But I want you to whip me because my marks have faded.”

“Oh?”

“I like having bruises from your whip,” I told him.

“Why on earth do you want to wear bruises on your body?”

“It proves I’m your slave,” I said.

“Aren’t you going a bit overboard about this slave girl stuff?”

“Maybe, but I like having marks under my clothing, its like wearing your brand.”

“How about if I just brand you then?”

My tummy went cold with fear. Brand me? Was he serious?

My God, that would hurt! And a brand would be permanent, my husband would see it sooner or later.

The fear lasted for about two seconds, then I thought: ‘I could take the pain, I could endure any pain for JR, and it would serve my husband right to see that I wore another man’s brand.’ I imagined the look on his face when he saw it.

“Where would you brand me?”

“Right here.” He touched a spot an inch above my pussy.

“What would the brand look like?”

“My initials, about an inch high.”

I considered it. If I shaved my pubic hair then let it grow back after I was branded my husband would never know it was there. It would be my secret. I got hot thinking about it.

I gazed up at JR. “I think I’d love to be branded, but for now I’ll settle for bruises.”

“All right.”

He took a couple of whips from his bag and showed them to me.

“Don’t you have anything bigger?” I asked.

“Not with me.”

“Could you bring bigger ones next time?’

“Sure.”

He used the largest whip on me. I expected him to whip my breasts, but he started whipping the inside of my thighs. Now that’s a pretty sensitive area for a woman and I was soon yelping in pain.

“Want me to stop?” he asked.

“God no,” I gasped. “But why don’t you put the gag back in my mouth.”

This time the gag felt comfortable.

“Well, since you are becoming a pain slut I think I’ll whip you hard,” JR told me. “And with that gag you can scream all you want.”

I closed my eyes and nodded.

JR resumed whipping the inside of my thighs. I was soon squirming in pain, and tiny gasps behind the gag grew to groans and screeches and ultimately screams. Just when I thought I couldn’t endure any more pain the whip hit my pussy!

I never dreamt that a man would whip a woman in that spot. I was shocked. My eyes flew open and I was too surprised to scream. JR looked into my eyes, winked at me, and hit my pussy again. I fainted.

I had a last thought as everything went black, I realized that I was having an orgasm.

When I woke up JR was fucking me. He was plunging in and out of my body and his hands had a cruel grip on my breasts. I looked up at him and it all went black again.

I awoke again and was alone in bed. I was still bound and gagged and could hear the shower running. I really wanted to get up but that was impossible so I lay back and waited patiently.

JR walked in a few minutes later. He was naked, he took one look at me and  his cock rose. He didn’t say a word, he just climbed between my legs and fucked me again. This time I didn’t pass out so I was able to enjoy everything. I enjoyed a nice long orgasm too.

JR left me bound and gagged while he took another shower. (Did I mention that one of the requirements of being a sex slave is patience?) I hoped there would be some hot water left if he ever got around to untying me.

Finally he released me. I climbed shakily to my feet and staggered into the bathroom. I didn’t have the strength to stand and decided on a long soak in the tub. While the tub filled I went back into the bedroom. JR was dressed.

“I have to go,” he said. “I’m having dinner with my son and his family tonight.”

“Same time next week?” I asked.

“Absolutely.”

I looked at myself in the mirror, my belly and crotch were bright pink from his whip.

“Well slave lady, will those bruises be satisfactory?” he asked.

“Sure will,” I replied. “But you forgot to whip my breasts.”

“Did I?” he looked closely. “So I did. Shall I correct that?”

“Please.”

He dug out his whip. I clasped my hands behind my neck and stuck out my breasts. He smiled, then slashed the whip across my boobs very hard. Wow, did that hurt!

JR hit me another blow, then another. “Ready for some more?” he asked.

“At least a dozen,” I gasped.

He hit again. By the end of the dozen I was sobbing in pain and passion. My breasts hurt and I loved it.

JR put away the whip, then caressed my breasts.

“Will that suffice, Mrs. Lee?” he asked.

“Yes Master, thank you,” I said, holding his hands to my boobs. “Are you sure you want to go to that dinner? Why not stay here and torture me for a few more hours.”

He shook his head slowly. “I am tempted,” he said.

I stepped close and pressed myself against his body. “You could tie me tighter this time, really tight,” I whispered seductively. “Then go get your big whip. I promise I’ll wait for you.”

He dragged me close and kissed me. His hand sought out my nipple and pinched it while he held the kiss.

“Someday I’ll make you have an orgasm just from hurting your nipple,” he told me.

“That day may be closer than you think,” I said. “I’m starting to enjoy the pain.”

He hugged me and started for the door.

“By the way,” I asked. “How many women have you branded?”

“None,” he replied. “Why?”

“I’ll have to think about it long and hard,” I said. “And I’m not making any promises, but I believe I like the idea.”

His face lit up and he took a step toward me, then he stopped.

“If I don’t leave this second I’ll never get out of here.” He almost ran out the door. I giggled and went into the bath.

The only bad thing about being whipped between your legs is that they can get pretty stiff afterwards. I was sore by the time I got home and  had to be careful not to let on. The bruises on my breasts and pussy lasted longer than the first batch and I got a warm tingle every time I looked at them.

CH3

My affair with JR brought me out of my shell. Oddly enough, becoming a slave increased my self confidence, (or perhaps it was the attention JR gave me, and being a slave gave the freedom to enjoy it), anyway I bought nicer clothes and started wearing skirts again. Men at work began to flirt with me and even my husband noticed the change and asked what was going on. I told him my boss had suggested that I might stand a chance of getting promoted if I dressed more professionally. He didn’t question that and said that we could use the extra money.

I was surprised at how easy cheating came to me and I was ashamed at how quickly I became a masochist. It was disturbing to discover that I liked pain. I felt that I was perverse and decadent, but the pleasure eventually overcame my qualms and I came to accept being a masochist, especially since submission brings with it freedom from guilt and multiple orgasms.

I had to ask JR to stop tearing my panties off every time we met. Although it was very erotic it was getting expensive. I was running out of underwear. On his own the dear sweet man bought me a lovely set of very sexy panties. I took them home and wore only them, and one day as I was putting things away in my drawer I realized that I hadn’t worn any of my old panties in a long time. I began wearing them to our sessions and asked JR to rip them off again. We did this until I had used up all my old ones. JR bought me several new pair and some thongs, which I’d never worn before. He gave me a pair of red panties embroidered with “Sex Slave” but told me that he understood if I didn’t want to take them home, in case my husband saw them. I told him to hell with my husband and to buy me all the slave girl panties he wanted. JR enjoys shopping for my underwear and eventually every pair of panties that I owned had been given to me by him. In fact, I haven’t bought my own panties since that day.

I fell in love with JR and reveled in being his slave. I wanted to be owned by him physically and emotionally and wearing stripes from his whip made me feel that I was his property. I had so much pride from wearing his marks that I made sure that I came away from every meeting with fresh ones.

To accommodate my desire to wear stripes JR made a special whip. It was a single strand of leather eighteen inches long and very supple. JR could snap it between my legs with perfect accuracy and leave a red stripe beside the lips of my pussy.

JR and I developed a routine at the end of each session. First I would bend over and stick out my bottom and JR would put four or five stripes across it, then I would kneel, lock my hands behind my neck, arch my back and present my boobs. He would give them six red lines, three above the nipples and three below, and for good measure he’d snap the tip of the whip right squarely on each nipple. For the finale I would lie down, keep my hands behind my head and spread my legs. JR would stand over me and give me two fierce strokes on each side of my pussy, making sure the stripes didn’t cross my pussy lips, then  I would clench my teeth, hold my breath and raise my pelvis and he would give one final excruciatingly sexy stroke right into my pussy.

Once, my husband walked in and caught me naked from the waist up. He asked why I had red marks on my breasts. I told him that they were getting bigger and my brassieres were too small. The idiot believed me. Even so, I turned to him and silently offered myself. If only he had touched me I would have dragged him to the bed and given him the screwing of his life. I would have even suggested that he tie me to the bed. I waited for a few seconds but he only made a stupid comment about the expense of buying new bras.

I became obsessed with wearing whip marks but they fade, and my mind kept going back to the idea of being branded. At night I often dreamt about being tied down and having a red hot brand pressed against my flesh. I’d wake up in a sweat with my hand in my pussy. During the day I thought about it and although the thought of the pain was very exciting, the idea of walking around with a brand on my body for the rest of my life made me so hot that I could almost come to an orgasm just thinking about it.

One afternoon as we were getting dressed, JR tied a pussy rope on me and told me to wear it home. He meant it as a joke but I did precisely as he said.

Driving home with that rope between my legs was very exciting. I wriggled in my seat and every movement sent a little tingle through my pussy. I unzipped my jeans and pulled on the rope as I drove. I almost brought myself to an orgasm driving down the street. When I got to my house I drove around the block a couple of times until my breath and color were back to normal. Driving had been a delight but walking around the house in front of my family was incredible! Every step was a physical thrill as well as a reminder that I belonged to JR. I wanted to tell them about it, to make them understand that I was more than just a dull old ordinary wife and mother. ‘Guess what everybody? Believe it or not, there is a man who sees me as sexy and desirable!’

That pussy rope made me feel like I was worth something!

We barbecued that night. My husband offered to do the cooking so I made myself a drink and relaxed on the patio. I lay back on a chaise lounge and casually slipped my fingers into the back of my pants. I tugged the rope tight in my pussy and I wondered if I could make myself have an orgasm without anyone knowing.  

I wore my pussy rope for several days, even to bed.

I finally took it off but on Saturday morning I tied a fresh rope between my legs and wore it around the house until it was time to meet JR. Between that rope and anticipating the afternoon’s pleasures, I was a quivering mass of hot female flesh. I wanted to wear a skirt to the motel but my family would have noticed, so I wore jeans and took a skirt with me. On the way I stopped in a parking lot, slipped my pants off and put the skirt on. I wasn’t wearing any panties. When I met JR I lifted my skirt and showed my pussy rope. He shouted with laughter when I told him I’d worn it all week. He grinned, hugged me so tight that I couldn’t breathe, then gave me one of his time stopping kisses. then he grasped my pussy rope and walked me around the room for a few minutes.

He spent that afternoon exploring different ways to drive me wild using a pussy rope, and this I time I didn’t get to lie quietly in bondage, he made me exercise.

He had me lie face down on the bed and tied my arms in a new fashion. He sat on my legs and made me cross my arms at the small of my back. I cupped each elbow in the opposite palm, then he wrapped rope from one elbow to the other. He tied my ankles together but left a short bit of rope between them. He called this a hobble and it permitted me to walk in tiny little steps. He sat me up and tied a leash to the front of my pussy rope, then he stood in front of me and tugged on the leash. 

He didn’t say anything but kept tugging that leash harder and harder until I realized that he wanted me to stand up. I struggled to my feet and almost toppled over. Wearing a hobble made it difficult to stand, walking was almost impossible. I tottered for a moment until I got my balance.

JR pulled my leash and led me around the room.

At first I tried walking but that was too slow to suit JR. He tugged harder and I had to hop to keep up. The room isn’t very big so I could only hop about twenty steps then turn and hop back. He made me hop back and forth until I was panting with exertion. In ten minutes I was begging for a break. All that got me was a big gag in my mouth. It was harder to breathe wearing the gag and I made little whimpers to beg for mercy. JR told me to stop whining or the next time he’d make me hop wearing high heels. I shut up quick.

I was passing the dresser when I caught sight of myself in the mirror. I stopped in my tracks. My hair was tousled, my face was pink, my body was covered with sweat and I was huffing like a steam engine. Even standing still my boobs were bouncing like a pair of basketballs. The ropes cut into my skin and my pussy rope disappeared between my legs. I looked like a total tramp, and I loved it!

JR permitted me to stare at myself for a moment, then yanked on the rope and got me moving again. I obeyed but watched myself each time I passed the mirror.

JR finally allowed me a break. I collapsed in the chair and he removed my gag.

“Need a drink?” he asked. I nodded and he brought me a glass of water.

“You must enjoy looking at yourself,” he commented.

“Are you kidding?” I asked. “I hate my body. I avoid looking at myself when I can.”

“Well, you sure were staring at the mirror,” he pointed out.

“I was watching the way my breasts bounce,” I said. “I’ve never seen them do that.”

“They look fantastic,” he said, jiggling one.

“They’re too big and floppy,” I said. “But if you like them . .”

“I do,” he said simply.

“Then I’ll bounce them all I can,” I said. “But I’m liable to collapse into a heap. I’m not in shape for this.”

“Don’t worry, if you collapse I’ll pick you up and toss you on the bed.”

“Gee, thanks Master.”

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Lee.” He regarded me for a moment. “You really like looking at your bouncing breasts?”

“Yes Master. Do you?”

“Of course.”

“I wish this room had more mirrors,” I said.

“Oh, all right,” he groaned in mock irritation. He hopped me to the bed and pushed against my breasts gently until I fell backwards. He curled my legs up in a tight hog tie, put my gag in my mouth and blindfolded me, then he got dressed and left without a word!

I wondering where he had gone. I lay helpless but delighting in the rope through my legs. Just squirming a little made for a sweet tingle in my pussy. I tried to bring myself to a gentle orgasm and was getting close when I heard the door open.

I heard JR moving around the room. He removed my blindfold and I saw two full length mirrors leaning against the walls of the room. They were at the ends of my hopping space. He’d gotten them at a second hand store a block away. He got me back on my feet and ordered me to hop again. Now I could watch my boobs in both directions, what a sweetie!

Hopping was very strenuous and at times I tried to rest by shuffling my feet. Its difficult to move very fast that way, but the different motion made my breasts sway from side to side instead of up and down. JR didn’t care which way they moved, just as long as I kept them moving.

I paraded up and down the room until I got leg cramps. JR caught me in his arms and gently lowered me onto the bed. He didn’t untie me, but did massage my legs until they felt better. That was the end of my hopping for the day, but not the end of my bondage.

JR tied my legs apart then experimented with different ways to yank, tug, and jerk on my pussy rope. He kept at it until I had several orgasms, then he removed the rope from my pussy and screwed me half silly.

I was of mixed mind about that particular day. I had gotten used to lying passively in bondage, and being tortured and screwed required no effort on my part, but hopping around was exhausting. Other than making my breasts bounce hopping wasn’t much fun.

To my chagrin when I stepped on the scales the next morning I discovered that I’d lost two pounds. Oh it was nice to lose weight, but I wasn’t too sure I liked the method. Still, losing two pounds was great, no matter how I did it. (If it sounds like being a sex slave can be confusing, it is.)

When I told JR I’d lost weight he commented that maybe we had stumbled on a new weight loss method for women.

“Oh sure,” I said. “You could market a new program. I can just see you in a roomful of fat naked women, tying them up and making them hop around in a big circle.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said straight faced.

If I hadn’t been tied up at the time I would have socked him.

Want to know how badly I had fallen for the man? I began working out so I’d be in shape to hop for him! When no one was home I would undress, put on a pussy rope, tie my ankles and practice hopping.  I’d also slip my hands through a loop of rope behind my back and twist it tight. Sometimes I cheated and wore a sports bra, and once I tried wearing high heels, but that turned out to be too dangerous. I didn’t want to break an ankle. Usually I’d hop in front of a mirror so I could watch my boobs, but sometimes I’d hop all around the house.

Its amazing what a woman will do when she’s in love.

A few months into our relationship JR gave me a present of a golden pussy chain.

Its a belt of gold mesh two inches wide and very thin. There is a crotch chain of flat oblong links. The chain hooks to the front and back of the belt and passes between my pussy lips. It can be secured in place with two tiny padlocks. The three links that press against my pussy have little knobs for added enjoyment. The entire ensemble is strong enough to withstand a lot of stress but its delicate and feminine and so unobtrusive that I can wear it under my clothing.

JR tied my hands above my head to the wall hook and played with my pussy for a while, then brought out the belt in a gift box. He opened it and showed the belt to me, then buckled it around my waist. I liked the feel of the belt but when he slipped the chain into my pussy I nearly went wild. Once it was in place he ordered me to gyrate the way I had on our first day, and the links sliding across my clitoris drove me to a terrific orgasm. He allowed me to recover, then made me hop around the room. Between my breasts bouncing and the chain riding through my pussy I had a couple of more orgasms before I collapsed on the floor. JR put me on the bed, undid the chain and screwed me half silly.

I wore my pussy chain home and kept it on all evening. Every movement through my pussy was a delight. My husband commented that I seemed to be in a good mood that evening.

I didn’t sleep in my chain, not that first night, but I wore it on a visit to my mother the next day and we went shopping. It was a thrill walking around with the chain between my legs, I was so excited that I nearly had an orgasm. My mind was on JR and his wonderful gift and I had trouble concentrating on anything else. Mom finally demanded to know where my mind was and why she had to say everything twice. 

During our shopping expedition I saw some tiny golden bells in a jewelry shop. I went back a few days later and bought two of them. I hooked one to the front of my pussy chain and hung the other on a necklace.

When I wear panties they muffle the bell, but if I go without them it makes a delightful tinkling under my skirt. I get a kick out of being in a crowd and watching people look around wondering where the sound is coming from. (One time I was trotting down a flight of stairs in a public building and a gentleman heard my little bell. He seemed to know where it was because he looked right at my skirt, then at my face. I gave him my most dazzling smile and went on my way). 

Sometimes I lock the chain in place and tie the key to it with a ribbon and sometimes I hang the key on a necklace and wear it like a pendant, but if I’m feeling naughty and daring I leave the key at home.

Through trial and error I discovered that I had to wear the crotch chain fairly loose or I ran the risk of cumming in public.

I keep my pussy chain and belt with my other jewelry and I have to be careful to disconnect the chain from the belt. (I’d hate to have to explain to my daughter what they are really for). She saw the belt and asked about it so I told her it was from my teenaged years and I’d found it in an old box. Its too snug for me to wear over clothing but she borrowed it and wore it over her sweaters. She thought the pussy chain was an ordinary necklace and borrowed it too. I couldn’t very well say no, but it was very disconcerting to see my daughter go out wearing my pussy chain around her neck.

I wear the chain when I’m hopping for exercise and the tinkling bell gave me an idea. I worked up a lot of nerve, went to a sex shop and bought some nipple clamps.

I was embarrassed to enter the store but the sales clerk was waiting on another customer so I had a moment to collect myself, and I wandered around looking at things. I was intrigued at the amount of leather clothing. Some of the outfits were quite sexy and I particularly liked some of the corsets. I looked for a punishment bra but didn’t see anything like JR had described. Eventually I found a display of fetish jewelry and came to a shelf full of nipple clamps. I was amazed at the variety, some were small, little more than rubber bands, while others were terrifying things with large sharp alligator teeth. I couldn’t imaging having something like that on my nipple (except that my nipples got hard while I was looking at the clamps).

The sales clerk came over and asked if she could help.

“I’d like to look at some clamps,” I told her. “But I’m not sure what kind to get.”

She was very matter of fact and put me at ease. “How tight do you want them to be?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve never worn them before.”

“Ok, in that case why don’t you go in the dressing room and try a few.” She took the tray out of the cabinet and showed me to a tiny cubicle. She stood in the door as I unbuttoned my blouse. She noticed my pink face.

“I can leave if you prefer privacy,” she said.

“No, its all right,” I said. “I just find the situation a little embarrassing.”

“Don’t be silly, its just us girls here.” 

I nodded and took off my bra.

“Are you a serious masochist?” she asked. “Do you like a lot of pain?”

I shrugged  “I don’t know how you measure it.”

She handed me a pair of clamps.

“These are fairly mild,” she said. “We’ll start off low and work our way up until we find some that are right.”

I blushed and wondered how I’d gotten myself into this situation. I accepted the clamps and gingerly placed one on a nipple. It felt firm but not painful. I put the other one on.

She watched my face for a moment, then shook her head. “Not enough, I can tell.”

“You’re right.” I took them off and she gave me another pair.

I tried many types of clamps. Some had springs, others could be tightened with screws and some had a sort of mechanical pivot that got tighter the harder they were pulled. I tested one of the big ones on my finger. It hurt so much that I quickly took it off.

“Do people actually wear such things?” I gasped.

The clerk nodded. “I have a few customers who can’t get enough pain. These are too mild for them. One woman loves to have her tits tortured so much that her husband uses clamps from battery cables on them.”

“My God!”

I thought about that for a moment. “Does he turn on electricity too?”

“Oh, yes. She loves it. Actually lots of girls like having their boobs electrocuted.”

My nipples were hard as rocks. The clerk noticed and smiled.

“We have some electrical torture units,” she said. “Would you like to try it?”

I was tempted! The idea of electricity shooting through my nipples was very exciting, but I didn’t want that woman to do it. I shook my head.

“Perhaps some other time,” I said. “For now I just want to look at clamps.”

I tried some of the smaller versions of the alligator clamps and liked the intense feel. I looked in the mirror and shook my breasts.

“I’m going to wear them when I hop for my master,” I explained, blushing again. “So I need them to stay on while I’m bouncing around.”

“He makes you hop?” she asked casually.

“Yes.”

“Are you a pony girl?”

“No, we aren’t in to that,” I said. (Actually I had only the vaguest idea what a pony girl was).

“Are you in restraints when you hop?”

“Yes, my arms are bound and I wear a hobble.”

She nodded understandingly. She astonished me by touching my nipple. She rolled it between her fingers rather clinically. My face went bright red.

“You have nice big nipples,” she observed. “They should hold the clamps nicely but you don’t want them to be too heavy.”

“Why not?”

“Heavy clamps tend to fall off if you move a lot, especially if you attach weights to them.”

“I’m planning to hang bells on them.”

“Bells shouldn’t be too heavy,” she mused. She held up the mechanical clamps. “These will stay on no matter what you do and they’ll support weights too, if you decide to add them later.”

She reached for my breast then paused. “Shall I put them on you, or would you rather do it?”

“I’d better do it,” I said very flustered.

I put the clamps on and tightened the screws. They felt firm and sexy.

“See if you can shake them off,” the clerk suggested.

I shook my breasts a few times, the clamps held.

“Try harder,” she said. I was astonished to find myself obeying. I shook my body side to side. She watched with obvious interest and it dawned on me that she was a lesbian. She reached out and gently flicked a clamp to see if it would come off. It held so she tapped it harder. I liked the sensation but was embarrassed at being touched by a woman. Trying hard not to blush I took the clamps off and handed them to her.

“I’ll take them,” I tried to act normally as I slipped into my bra. “And the small alligator clips.”

“Any thing else?” she asked.

“But do you carry punishment bras?” I asked.

“We have a few, but I don’t think we have anything in stock that will fit you. Take your bra off again and I’ll get them.”

She came back with a weird looking black rubber brassiere. She held it against my breasts.

“I think this is too small,” she said.

I took the bra and looked it over. It was very complicated with straps and buckles and laces all over the cups. The cups were lined with dozens of hard little knobs. But it was too small and I could never have squeezed into it.

“You’ll need a much bigger one,” the clerk said. “They have to be over sized just to get them on. After that they can be tightened to compress your breasts and create the pain, or pleasure.”

“Pleasure?” I asked doubtfully.

“One lady’s pain is another woman’s pleasure,” she said. “The bras are popular with pony girls.”

Despite myself, my nipples perked up. She looked with unabashed interest. “We might have to order one specially for you.”

“How much do they cost?” I asked.

She named a figure. I could afford to order one but decided that right then wasn’t the time.

“What about torture bras?” I asked. “I understand that they are more painful.”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “I’ll get one.”

I held the bra against my breast and rubbed the knobs against my skin while I waited. They did feel sexy. I jerked the bra away when the clerk returned. She showed me the torture bra. It was terrifying. Instead of knobs it was lined with sharp little spikes.

“This one is large enough to fit you I think,” she said. “If you want to try it on.”

I took it from her and examined it.

“The first torture bras were simply leather bras lined with thumb tacks,” the clerk told me. “And realistically, they are easy to make at home. The modern ones have a few added features.”

“Like what?” I asked.”

“Some are lined with wires and can be connected to electrical units. They can be set to send a jolt of electricity through the entire breast or send ripples of current from the nipples inwards or vice versa. The can be set with timers to go off in any sequence or at random. Some slave girls have been tied up and hot wired into orgasms for hours. Electrical connections can be made to your pussy too.”

My pussy was getting damp.

“What else?”

“Some bras have needles that can be inserted directly into the nipples,” the woman said. “I have a customer with big boobs like yours and she likes to wear two inch needles straight into her nipples.”

“Oh my God!”

“That’s not all,” she said. “Her mistress ordered torture panties for her.”

“Torture panties?” I gasped. “You mean panties with spikes?”

“Precisely. Spikes lining the crotch of the panties. Her mistress stretches her on a cross then beats her bra and panties with whips and riding crops.”

“Oh my God!”

“She is quite a hit at bondage parties.”

I must have stood with my mouth agape for five minutes. The image of a woman wearing spikes in her pussy was terrifying.

“You still with me?” the clerk asked after a while.

I took  a deep breath. “Sorry. I was in shock. You were saying about the bras?”

“Other bras have open nipples with built in clamps that can be tightened down very cruelly.”

I looked at the spikes lining the cup.

“How do you get into one of these without tearing your skin to pieces?” I asked.

“Good question,” she said. “Most ladies don’t want their breasts to be permanently scarred. Here’s how you put the bras on.”

She peeled the cups inside out. “You put the bra on by slowly rolling the cup closed. That way the spikes don’t tear your skin. Once its in place you tighten the straps and your are done. Want to try it?”

Yes, I did, but I was too much a coward.

“Let me give it some thought,” I said handing it back. I put my bra back on.

“Do you have any bells?” I asked when I was dressed.

“No, we don’t carry bells,” she said. “But I like your idea, I’ll have to try that on a couple of my girls.”

“Uh, your girls?” I asked.

“Uh huh. I have one or two clients that would look nice with bells on their nipples.”

“Oh, you’re a dominatrix?” I asked, feeling idiotic.

“Sure am.”

She put the tray of clamps back on the shelf. “There’s a toy store a few blocks away that might carry bells.  If they don’t have what you want, try a hobby shop.”

“Ok, thanks.”

She stared at my breasts for a moment, frowning in concentration. “You know, I think the best way to wear bells would be to have your nipples pierced and rings inserted, that way you could attach bells to the rings.”

“Uh, I’m afraid that piercing my nipples is out of the question,” I said. “Besides, I like the pain from the clamps.”

“You could have both,” she said. “But I know what you mean, I like wearing clamps too.”

“Oh? I didn’t think a dominatrix would enjoy pain,” I said.

“Depends on my mood,” she said. “About once a year I get to feeling submissive so I go to another dom and let her beat the daylights out of me. Its a nice change of pace.”

“I see.”

“Have you ever submitted to a woman?” she asked as she rang up my purchase.

“No, only to my master.”

“You might give it some thought,” she said. “You might like it.” She held up the nipple clamps. “Shall I wrap them or would you like to wear them home?”

I stared at her in surprise.

“Just kidding,” she laughed. She handed me my purchase.

“When you are ready to order the punishment bra give me a call, I’ll make sure we get you fitted properly.” She handed me a business card. “Also, among other things, I do body piercing, If you change your mind about piercing your nipples, come see me and I’ll give you a personal discount.”

“Oh I think I might like having them pierced,” I said. “And my master would probably like it too, but my husband is sure to ask questions.”

“Yes, that can be a problem,” she agreed. “Too bad because nipple rings and pussy rings add an entirely new dimension to submission. There’s nothing like being led around by a leash attached to your labia.”

That sent a tingle through my tummy.

“I guess I’m not your typical customer,” I said.

“Oh yes you are,” she said. “Very few of my customers walk around in leather and spikes. You’d never recognize the average submissive by looking at her.”

“Oh.” 

She leaned close and looked into my eyes. “Think about being dominated by  a woman. When you’re ready I’ll give you your first session for free.”

I grabbed my purchase and fled.        

‘My God,’ I thought. ‘I’ve just been propositioned by a lesbian.’

       I found the bells at a toy store.

       When I got home I put the small clips on my nipples and wore them around the house until the family came in.

       That night I dreamt that JR tied me to a bed then allowed a naked woman to pierce my nipples with rings, then she put a torture bra on me, attached leashes to the rings and forced me to follow her around in public. Afterward she made me kneel and lick her pussy while JR watched. It was a very disturbing dream.

       The dream bothered me for several days until I came to the conclusion that the dream meant that I was submitting to JR, not the woman. I asked myself how far I was willing to go to please him. Would I submit to something so distasteful as lesbian sex? Could I do it just to please him?    -    Yes, I could.

       I hopped for JR the next time we got together. He was delighted with my nipple clamps and bells and ordered me to hop and bounce for a long time. After a while he pointed out that I sounded like sleigh bells. I realized that he was right and started laughing. I got a case of giggles that I couldn’t stop so he finally gagged me to keep from disturbing the neighbors. When I got myself under control he made me hop with a different rhythm.

I had to hop three steps, then shake my boobs from side to side three times. Hop, hop, hop, shake, shake, shake. I looked so ridiculous in the mirrors that I started giggling again. JR used a whip across the back of my legs to encourage me to keep moving. I tried to hop but I couldn’t stop laughing. He whipped me harder and it really stung my legs. I tried to get away from him although there’s not much chance of that in a hobble.

I dodged and twisted, all the while shrieking with laughter. (Good thing I was wearing a gag). Finally I fell down and tried to roll under the bed. JR finally gave up, pulled me from under the bed and bent me over a chair. He spanked my bottom until I was moaning with delight then screwed me from behind. My bells jingled nicely in rhythm with his thrusts.

JR didn’t make me hop every time we met. Far from it, I was usually so tightly bound that I couldn’t move.

JR is very single minded. He planned every meeting and each one seemed to have a theme, or at least a point of interest. For example, one afternoon he ate my pussy for five hours. That’s right, FIVE hours.

When I arrived everything was prepared. He had moved the dresser away from the wall and taped a folded blanket to the top as padding. He ordered me to undress and climb on the dresser. I decided to see if I could  entice him away from what ever he had planned. When I was naked I clasped my hands behind my back and hopped around for a moment. My bouncing breasts diverted him for a while, he fondled them for a few minutes while I enjoyed another of his long wonderful kisses, but I still ended up tied to the dresser. I’ve learned that when JR has his mind made up it stays made up.

JR had me lie on my back while he tied my wrists to the legs of the dresser, then he bent each of my legs and tied my ankles to my upper thighs. Naturally he took his time, used plenty of rope and made sure that each leg was artistically tied and each knot was perfect. After that he tied a rope from each of my knees to the legs of the dresser. Those ropes kept my legs wide apart.

I wiggled happily because my pussy was at the right height for him to fuck while standing up. However, fucking wasn’t what he had in mind.

JR dragged a chair close, sat down and buried his face in my pussy. I got no warning, no warm up, one second I was lying quietly and the next instant JR’s mouth was engulfing my pussy!

Somehow I knew I was in for a wonderful afternoon.

JR ate my pussy.

That’s all he did that day. I had about a hundred orgasms, some within minutes of each other. They blurred together and seemed to be continuous. Don’t misunderstand, I like having my pussy eaten as much as the next woman, but five hours can drive a girl insane! I whimpered, sobbed, groaned, gasped, whined and begged for a few minutes break, and all he did was pause long enough to stuff a gag in my mouth. He didn’t even screw me that afternoon, and all he would have had to do was stand up and slide his cock in me, but nope!

JR just doesn’t take breaks very often but during one interval a very erotic incident happened. JR was in the bathroom and I was lying semi conscious when the door blew open.

I opened my eyes when I felt the breeze. At first I thought JR had gone out but I froze when I heard voices.

Three men were talking just outside our room. They were so close I could see their shadows on the wall. A couple of steps and they could have seen me. I didn’t know what to do. What would happen if they saw me? Would they think I’d been kidnapped and call the police. . . or would they just come in and fuck me?

I thought I’d have died of embarrassment if those men had seen me, but then . . . if they had screwed me it might serve JR right for keeping me so worked up. I lay back and waited to see what would happen. I was no longer frightened, in fact, I was getting turned on. I knew that if those men looked inside the first thing they would see would be my pussy, pink and damp.

It seemed to take forever but JR finally came out of the bathroom. He saw the open door and raised his eyebrows.

“Did someone come in?” he asked.

I shook my head.

He stuck his head out the door. The conversation stopped.

“Are we disturbing you?” I heard a man ask.

“Not at all,” JR replied. “I’m waiting for a pizza delivery and hoped you were it.”

“Sorry.”

JR stepped inside and attached the safety chain, but left the door ajar. No one could see me but they could hear. JR put his finger to his lips, then sat down, made himself comfortable, and went back to eating my pussy. I tried to keep quiet but his tongue drove me so wild that I stopped caring if anyone heard me or not. 

When JR finally untied me I couldn’t stand. My legs were so wobbly that he had to help me into the bathroom. I wanted to have a long soak in the tub but didn’t have time. I sat under the shower for a few minutes but I was so exhausted that I almost fell asleep and had to force myself to dry off and get dressed.

When I got home I told my husband that I didn’t feel well and to order pizza for dinner. After we ate I went to bed and slept for eleven hours straight.

My pussy was so tender that it throbbed all night and all the next day. I pretended to be sick and stayed in bed on Sunday just so I wouldn’t have to sit up. (Sitting put unbearable pressure on my pussy). I slept a lot that day and dreamt about being gang fucked by dozens of strangers while JR held the door open for them.

While I lay around I had time to calculate that I had arrived at the motel at noon and staggered out the door at five-forty. I was probably tied to the dresser within fifteen minutes of my arrival, and counting breaks and the time it took to shower and get dressed, I estimate that JR ate my pussy for a total of five hours.

(Did I mention that he might be slightly compulsive?)

It also occurred to me that JR did not cum that afternoon. He didn’t screw me or make me suck his cock, everything had been done for my pleasure alone.    

CH 4        

During the next session JR and I had a long discussion. He tied me to the bed and made love to me while we talked.

I wanted to talk right away but he had something planned and told me to wait.

He tied me in a flat spread eagle and lay atop me. He pressed his cock against my pussy, gathered my breasts together and lowered his chest onto them, and kissed me.

JR kept his lips on mine one way or another for almost an hour. Sometimes he simply kissed me, other times he nibbled my lips or explored the inside of my mouth with his tongue. Occasionally he slid down and sucked my breasts, but most of the time he attended to my mouth.

After a long time he raised my knees and entered my pussy, then he gave me permission to talk.

He kept a slow steady rhythm while I told him about my visit to the adult store and about my dream.

“So you dreamt about submitting to a woman?” he asked.

“Yes, and I didn’t like it at first,” I said. “But I realized that the dream was about submitting to you, not a woman.”

“Have you ever had any lesbian fantasies?” he asked.

“No.”

“Not even curious about it?”

“Never, why are you asking?”

“A lot of female slaves submit to lesbians even if they aren’t gay, it increases their feelings of humility and obedience. Some male slaves will submit to men for the same reason.”

“You mean that a submissive man might have to . . . open his mouth for another man if his mistress ordered him to?”

“Yes.”

“Even if he doesn’t like it?”

“Accepting such an extreme form of submission proves his devotion to his mistress. Besides, lots of people crave humiliation.”

“Men too?”

“Sure. Some men are truly submissive wimps, while others may be strong willed men who happen to enjoy role reversal at times. A man might like to be under someone else’s control for a change, instead of always being the one to make decisions.”

“The woman who waited on me at the store is a dominatrix but she said that she likes to be beaten once in a while by another woman. She said she liked the change of pace.”

“Same thing for some men.”

I imagined a naked man bound on his knees taking another man into his mouth while a cruel woman stood over him. I have to admit that I found the idea arousing.

“I think I understand.” I said. “Would you like to humiliate me in public?”

“Only if you would want it,” he replied.

I thought about it for a few minutes. The idea of doing sexual things in front of people did seem exciting, so long as JR was there to make me do them. I remembered that day the door blew open.

“If it weren’t for my family I think I would like let you do it,” I said.

“No matter what I might make you do?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“And you think your dream signified that you would perform a lesbian act if I told you too?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting,” he mused.

“Would you like to watch me give pleasure to a woman with my mouth?” I asked. “I’ll do it if you want.”

He considered it for a few moments, then shrugged.

“It would be a way for me to prove my love,” I said.

“You’re proving it right now,” he said. “To my complete satisfaction, no other proof is necessary.”

I almost cried when he said that.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “But after all these years of emotional starvation perhaps I need to keep proving it to myself.”

“So if I gave you to woman you would submit just to prove your love?”

“Yes.”

“Would it help if I watched?”

“Yes, I think I would enjoy having you watch.”

“What if I were to go away and leave you alone with her?”

“I’d still do it.”

“What if I sold you into slavery or rented you out to men and women?”

“Yes.”

“Ever read the ‘Story of O’?”

“No, what is it?”

“A book about a woman who becomes a sex slave, and her master gives her to another man to test her devotion.”

“I understand that kind of devotion,” I said.

“O’s master gave her away permanently.”

That stopped me. I looked up at him in concern.

“Don’t worry,” he said gently. “I’m not giving you away. I think I’ll keep you all to myself.”

“For how long?”

“Thirty, forty years, maybe more.”

That did it! I was bawling like a baby.

That was the day I made up my mind to be branded.

When JR untied me I pushed him into the chair and crawled into his lap. I cuddled up and just sat in his arms.

“Master, would you please brand me?” I asked softly.

“What?”

“Remember when we first met we talked about branding? Well, I’m ready now.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “It would be very painful.”

“I can take the pain,” I said. “I’m sort of looking forward to it.”

“A brand would be permanent,” he warned. “Your husband is sure to see it someday.”

“I want it to be permanent,” I said. “As for my husband, the day may come when I show it to him.”

“How do you plan to conceal it from him in the meantime?”

“I’ll shave my pubic hair before you brand me, then I’ll make sure he doesn’t see me naked until it grows back.”

“It will be sore for days,” he said.

“I know,” I said softly. “My pussy is getting damp thinking about it.” I guided his hand to my crotch.

The next instant I was on the bed and JR was on top of me and deep inside me. We made love and for the first time I was able to hold him in my arms.

JR told me he would give me two weeks to think it over before he branded me.

I knew I wasn’t going to change my mind and I thought about being branded for the next fourteen days. Anticipating the pain kept me so excited that I could barely contain myself.

Two days ahead of time I shaved my pussy. After that I had trouble sleeping for the remaining nights and when Saturday arrived I was so impatient that I barely got through the morning. My daughter saw how jumpy I was and asked what was wrong. I told her that it was just a case of nerves.

My husband was supposed to take the boys to a little league tournament that afternoon but it was rained out. At first I was annoyed, then pleased. I smiled to myself because I wanted him to be there when I came home wearing JR’s brand.

When I arrived at the motel JR kissed me for about five minutes, then he showed me his preparations.

He’d brought a hot plate, a propane torch, a socket wrench, and the brand. I looked at the brand closely. It was simply his initials made of iron. The initials were an inch wide and an inch and a half tall, and mounted on a long handle. They were already blackened from heat.

“This had been used,” I said. “Have you branded some other woman?”

“Dozens,” he said. “Do you think you are the only filly in my herd?”

“Ooh, you bastard!”

He chuckled. “The brand is new. I had it made just for you and the reason its blackened it that I tested it, see?”

He showed me a piece of thick leather. His initials were branded into it several times. The leather was light tan and his initials were a dark brown. My pussy throbbed when I saw it.

“This is what my tummy is going to look like?” I asked breathlessly.

“Yes, but you are going to have to be very brave,” he said.

“I’m not afraid of the pain,” I said.

“I know, but you still might jerk and blur the brand.”

“Oh, I never thought of that.”

“I think I’ve figured out a way to prevent that,” he said.

“How?”

“I’m going to tie you very tightly . . .”

“Ooh goody!” I interrupted.

“Be quiet and listen,” he said.

“Sorry Master.”

“I’m going to tie you very tightly,” he repeated. “I’m going to gag you in case you scream, and I’m going to blindfold you.”

“Blindfold? I want to watch.”

“No,” he said firmly. “If you see it coming you still might jerk involuntarily.”

Darn! I wanted to watch but I didn’t want a blurred brand on my tummy.

“You aren’t going to know the brand is coming because I’m going to lower your anticipation.”

“How will you do that?”

“I brought a metal tool the same size as the brand, see?” he held up the socket wrench. “I’m going to chill this in a bowl of ice and I’ll touch it to your skin several times before I use the brand. The ice cold metal will feel just like red hot metal for a split second. You’ll get accustomed to the touch and with the blindfold you won’t see the real brand coming.”

“Oh,” I thought about it. “I guess it makes sense, but I’d rather watch.”

“You’ll be able to watch it later,” he said. “I brought a video camera.”

He is so wonderful!

“What is the hot plate for?” I asked.

“Its to preheat the brand, I’ll heat it the rest of the way with the torch.”

“Ok.”

“It will be red hot,” he warned. “So hot that it will glow.”

“Yesssssss.”

He handed me an ice bucket “Why don’t you run down to the ice machine and fill this up,” he said.

“Yes Master.”

When I returned JR placed the wrench into the ice.

The brand was already hot. JR lit the torch and held the flame to the brand until it glowed red.

“Watch this.”

He pressed the brand against the leather, smoke appeared instantly.

“Oh my God!” I gasped.

“That’s going to happen to your skin,” JR warned. “Are you certain . . .?”

He shut up when he saw that I was tearing my clothes off.

He turned off the torch then positioned the chair to catch the light. Then he set up the camera and shot a few test frames.

“Sit down so I can get a light reading off your skin,” he ordered.

“Yes master.” I sat down and opened my legs.

JR stopped dead when he saw my naked pussy.

“Wow, that’s nice,” he said.

I wriggled with pleasure.

“If I’d known you liked it shaved, I’d have done it long ago.”

“What would your husband have said?” he asked.

“Who cares?”

JR gazed at my pussy for a moment, then picked up the ropes.

“I think I should get you tied up,” he said.

“About damn time.”

He started to tie me but I stopped him.

“Wait,” I said. “Why don’t you film me being tied up.?”

“Ok.”

“And make sure you get close ups of my pussy before and after.”

I stepped away and he turned the camera on. I walked into view, rested my hand on the back of the chair, slowly turned completely around. JR zoomed in on my pussy and I held still for a minute, then he zoomed out and I sat down. I smiled at the camera and crossed my legs. I looked into the lens.

“Hi,” I said in my most sultry voice. “I am Mrs. Jean Lee. My husband is Scott Lee and we live at 1234 Blank Street in Denver Colorado. I’m at a motel and I’m about to be branded.” 

I uncrossed my legs and opened them wide. I touched my chest and slowly slid my hand down to my belly.

“Being branded is my idea,” I said. “I’m a sex slave to another man and I’ve begged him to brand

me with his initials and he’s agreed to do it. I’m going to wear my master’s brand right here,” I touched the spot. “Just above my pussy.”

I smiled at JR. He stepped close with the ropes.

I placed my hands behind the chair and he tied my wrists very tightly. I couldn’t suppress a gasp of delight. He wrapped rope around my torso and the chair above and below my breasts. JR moved to my legs. He pulled my knees wide apart and tied them to the chair arms, then he tied my ankles.

“Ok, are you ready?” he asked.

I was so excited that I was trembling.

“Yes Master, I’m ready.”

He put the gag in my mouth. He tightened the buckle and I winked at the camera as he lowered a blindfold over my eyes. 

I heard JR bustling around. I heard the propane torch light with a pop and smelled the odor of the gas. I have never been so excited in my life!

His finger touched me an inch above my pussy. A moment later I jumped when something cold touched the same spot. JR was right, it felt hot for a split second. I gasped and felt a wonderful thrill shoot through my pussy.

“Ummmmm!” I moaned happily. A moment later the cold metal touched me again. I jerked slightly, but giggled. It touched me a third time, then I heard the torch move. I tensed, was this it?

Something touched my nipple. I gasped in surprise. Was he going to brand my breast too? No, it was cold. I shook my breasts, then remembered that I was supposed to hold still. There was a long pause, I waited and waited. When was he going to touch me again? Finally I felt another cold touch near my belly button, another on my breast and another inside my thigh.

‘Oh God,’ I thought. ‘He may play this out for an hour. I’ll be out of my mind by then.’

I felt another cold touch above my pussy, another on my breast. It went away but was instantly replaced by another touch above my pussy. It felt the same for a second, then I felt the pain! Every muscle in my body tensed.

‘Don’t move,’ I told myself. ‘You can take the pain, its for JR and you can take it! Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move!’

I was doing ok, I hadn’t moved, but then I smelled meat cooking and heard JR say: “Now my little slave girl, you’ve been branded for life.”

The orgasm roared through me like an avalanche! I blacked out instantly.

When I awoke my blindfold and gag were gone but I was still tied to my chair. JR was putting away the torch and things.

“Hi,” he said. “Have a nice nap?”

“How long was I out?” I asked.

“A couple of hours.”

“What?”

“Just kidding,” he laughed. “You’ve been asleep about ten minutes.”

“Asleep? I fainted.”

“From shock or pain?” he asked.

“I think I fainted from an orgasm,” I said, wriggling contentedly, then I remembered and looked at my pussy. “My God, I can’t see it.”

“Believe me, its there,” he laughed. “Hold on and I’ll untie you.”

“Wait, is the camera still on?”

“No, I turned it off while you were unconscious.”

“Why don’t you put my gag and blindfold back and turn on the camera, then remove them and untie me on video. I’ll stand up and display my brand for the camera.”

“Are you becoming a porn model?”

“Please?”

“Ok, open up.”

He replaced my gag and blindfold.

“Ok the camera is running.”

I had my eyes closed when JR removed my blindfold again. I looked languidly at the camera and smiled contentedly as soon as the gag was out of my mouth. JR untied me and I stood up. Pain shot through my belly.

“Ooh!” I gasped. I straightened up and posed beside the chair. I turned back and forth, then spread my legs and placed my hands on my hips. JR zoomed the camera in for a close up of my brand. I held the pose for a minute, then he turned the camera off.

I tried to see my brand in the dresser mirror, but it was too high. I ran into the bathroom. Same thing. I tried hopping but that didn’t work. I could have wept in frustration. I trudged back into the bedroom. JR gave me a hand mirror when I walked in. He’d thought to bring one.

I held the mirror close to my tummy. The letters were a deep, dark red, almost brown and the skin around them was bright rink. I touched the letters gingerly, it hurt.

“Wow!” I gasped.

“Painful?” JR asked.

“Yes it is,” I said.

He knelt and inspected it. “I think we got it centered nicely,” he said. “And the letters are straight up and down.”

I was very pleased. I hugged him.

“Thank you very much, Master.”

“You are welcome, Mrs. Lee.”

“What are we going to do now?” I asked.

“I brought a still camera,” he said. “I thought I’d take a few still pictures too.”

“You think of everything,” I said. “You must have done this before.”

“Dozens of times.”

I hoped he was kidding.

He got out his camera and took pictures of my brand.

“We don’t need more than five or six pictures,” he said. “What should we do to use up the rest of the roll?”

“How about this?” I sat in the chair and spread my legs wide. He grinned and took a picture. I hopped up and turned around, bent over and displayed my pussy and bottom. JR finished the roll taking pictures of me posing in the most obscene positions I could think of.

“Where are you going to get the film developed?” I asked. “I wouldn’t take it to the corner drug store.”

“I’ll do it at home,” he said. “I have a dark room in the basement.”

“Did you happen to bring any more film?” I asked. “I’ll pose some more if you like.”

“No, I only brought one roll,” he said. “But I can get some more in the lobby.”

“Why don’t you tie me up, then go get some film?” I suggested.

“You want to be tied up again?” he asked surprised.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“I thought you might be in too much pain,” he said.

I hugged him again and rubbed my breasts against his chest. “I’m never in too much pain,” I said softly. “And I’d like to reward you, my wonderful Master. Tie me any way you choose then fuck me silly.”

I was rewarded by another deep lingering kiss.

JR tied me to the bed in a no nonsense, legs wide apart, spread eagle position perfect for screwing, then walked to the lobby and bought film.

He shot several rolls of me tied to the bed, unfortunately I was in the same position for every shot. Since I was tied up all I could change was my expression. It was too much trouble to retie me for each picture. It made me realize that bondage models must go through a lot of changes every time they do a photo shoot. I’ll bet more time is spent retying them than taking pictures.

JR offered to change my pose but I asked him to put the damn camera down and get on top of me. He looked at my brand doubtfully.

“That’s going to hurt,” he said.

“That’s the idea,” I said. “I’m a sex slave remember? Now please fuck me.”

He still looked uncertain as he crawled on top of me. His weight did hurt my brand which triggered a masochistic thrill. I gasped in genuine delight and that set him off. He began screwing me like there was no tomorrow. I enjoyed several sweet orgasms.

At the end of the day JR got dressed. He laughed when he caught me admiring myself in the mirror for the tenth time.

“My my, aren’t you becoming the narcissist,” he joked.

“I’m proud of my brand,” I told him. I pushed my belly toward him. “See?”

“I’m proud of you,” he said, taking me in his arms.

My belly was very painful when I got home. I walked carefully from my car to hide the pain, but to my surprise I had the house to myself. My daughter was on a date and my husband left a note telling me that he and the boys had gone to the movies.

I undressed and stood in front of my full length mirror. I looked at the brand for a long time. I was very proud of myself.

I walked naked to the kitchen and rubbed antiseptic ointment on the brand to prevent infection. Rubbing  was painful and I got excited and masturbated right there in the kitchen. I liked being naked so I stayed that way. I puttered around watering plants and tidying up until I heard my husband’s car in the driveway. I went to my bedroom, picked up a gown and walked leisurely to the front hall. I stood inside the door and waited until I heard my husband’s key in the lock before I slipped the nightgown over my head. It dropped in place just as the door opened.

The boys went to the family room and turned on a video game. Hubby gave me a peck on the cheek and settled into his recliner. I sat on the couch and pretended to watch television.

I was very happy. I had finally done something special. I wore a permanent mark showing that I was valued by a good man and I was now his property. I felt wonderful!

My husband sensed my good mood and decide that he wanted sex. He was waiting when I came to bed. We always made love in the dark so I didn’t worry about him seeing the brand. But I didn’t want him  to touch my pussy and discover that I’d shaved, so I pushed him onto his back and played with his cock. At first I just wanted to get it over with, but lying on my stomach made my brand rub against the sheets, which turned me on.

I sucked hubby’s cock with real enthusiasm. I hoped to make him cum in my mouth but he sat up, rolled me onto my back and climbed on. He was in such a hurry that he didn’t notice that my pussy was bald. His lovemaking was paltry compared to JR, but his pudgy belly bouncing on JR’s brand really lit my fire and I decided to give him the screwing of his life.

‘If you only knew that you are fucking another man’s slave,’ I thought. I clasped him close, wrapped my legs around him, gasped and moaned and put on a convincing display.

Some of the groans were real though, my brand hurt and I gasped in pain. Oddly I didn’t enjoy the pain the way I did with JR. I closed my eyes and pretended that JR was screwing me and my yelps inspired hubby who for once did a good job. I actually had an orgasm.

Evidently I’d been pretty noisy. When we finished I could hear my sons giggling in their rooms and I surprised myself by not being embarrassed. I got up and put on my gown. The bed was a wreck and I wanted to tidy it up but my husband was already asleep. I looked at him, sprawled across the bed with his mouth open.

‘I hope you enjoyed that,’ I thought. ‘Because that was the last time. From now on only my master gets to fuck me.’

I went to the kitchen and made myself a snack.

CH 5

The next time we met JR brought the photographs and video. He showed me the pornographic pictures first. I cringed when I saw my body, but JR insisted that he liked the pictures and thought they were very erotic. He said that my genuine passion was obvious and me being a real every day woman was more erotic than some professional Barbie Doll model. I did have to admit that my face radiated the pure happiness of a woman in love. JR joked that he ought to submit the pictures to a porn magazine. I told him go ahead and that I would pose for more if he wanted me to.

(Much later he did send naughty pictures of me to a bondage magazine. I posed in a gag and blindfold, which effectively hid my face so that I doubt that anyone would recognize me. The magazine published the pictures in their amateur section and over the years we sent in several more. JR bought copies. I still have them carefully hidden away.)

The pictures of my brand were great, but they were all close ups. My pussy was visible but not my face.

Best of all was the video. I was fascinated watching myself and got turned on watching JR tie me up. 

Watching the video gave me the opportunity to see what JR did after I was blindfolded.

He sat crossed legged at my feet and made himself comfortable. He lit the torch and held the flame against the brand. I was utterly enthralled watching the metal heat up until it glowed red. He set the brand back on the hot plate and pulled the wrench from the ice. It was fascinating watching myself jerk when it touched me.

“I thought I was holding perfectly still,” I marveled.

JR patted my hand.

The video showed him touch the cold metal to my body several times then shift the wrench to his left hand and pick up the brand. He held it in the flame for a moment then moved it between my knees. He leaned forward and peered at my pussy, then with his left hand touched the cold wrench to my breast and a second later pressed the brand against my belly.

Watching myself react was one of the most erotic things I’ve ever seen!   

My body jerked as the brand was removed, then became stiff as every muscle tightened. I watched my chest rise slowly but powerfully until my back was arched away from the chair. My head strained back, my breasts pointed at  the ceiling and my upper body was almost bent double. Muscles stood out in my neck and my arms lifted until my topes were as taut as steel cables. My body was rigid for a long, long time, then I collapsed. My head rolled for a moment, then dropped onto my chest.

Watching it was like a physical blow. My pussy flashed white hot and my legs got weak. I sank to the floor. 

“That must have been very painful,” JR commented.

“It wasn’t the pain,” I whispered. “That was an orgasm.”

“No kidding?”

I just nodded.

JR looked at me in concern. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes,” I managed to whisper.

I hadn’t undressed yet, but my hands were on my breasts squeezing hard.

“There’s more on the tape,” JR said.

The scene changed to a close up of my brand. The camera held on it for a few moments then panned up to my head. JR removed my gag and blindfold and untied me. I watched myself stand, then pause as a look of surprise came over my face.

“That was when you realized how painful it was,” JR commented. I nodded.

I straightened, the camera focused on my pussy and my new brand then back to my face, then the tape ended. 

“Rewind it please,” I begged.

“I thought you told me your breasts weren’t sensitive,” he said.

I looked at him questioningly. He nodded toward my chest. I looked down and saw that I was still squeezing my boobs.

“Good heavens!” I gasped and took my hands away.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he said. “I like what you’re doing.”

“Yes Master.” I squeezed my breasts again. “Would you please rewind the tape?” I asked.

“All right,” he said. “But get your clothes off.”

I practically tore them off.

He rewound the tape but didn’t start it. “Kneel and spread your legs,” he commanded. I hurried to obey.

“Lock your fingers behind your neck and keep them there,” he said. “Don’t touch your pussy.”

He played the tape again in slow motion. I could have watched it a thousand times.

As it turned out I did get to watch it many times that day. JR tied me face down over the table and screwed me from behind while he replayed the tape over and over.

The tape is only sixteen minutes long and JR made a copy that repeated the scene for the entire duration of the tape, over ninety minutes. A few years ago he transferred it to DVD for me, I watch it all the time.

That afternoon JR asked if I’d ever been screwed in my ass.

“No master,” I answered, “But I’d love to have you do it if that’s what you want.”

“Are you sure?”

I craned my neck to look at him.

“Of course I’m sure,” I said. “How can you ask that? I’m your slave, you can do anything you want to me.”

“Ok, but it might hurt.”

“I like it when you hurt me,” I told him. “Besides, I’ve thought about having you do that to me for a long time.”

He put his cock in my ass. He was gentle but it did hurt, and as I expected, I liked it.

I watched the tape one more time after JR finished with me.

“That’s interesting,” I commented.

“What is?” JR asked.

“I can’t get over the way my body moved while you were branding me,” I said. “I thought I was holding perfectly still.”

“No way,” he laughed. “You were straining so hard that I thought the ropes might snap.”

I grew to like being fucked from behind. Partly because I enjoyed the sensation and partly because JR liked it.

I recall one afternoon in particular. I was tied face down on the bed, arms and legs spread wide. It was winter and snow was falling outside. I got a little cool and JR climbed on top of me and just lay there. His weight felt good and his body kept me warm. I felt secure and loved and happy. We didn’t speak, we just lay there for a long time. Eventually I felt his cock stir and press against my pussy. JR didn’t move his body, he just let his cock slip inside me. I tried not to move, to just savor the moment, but his cock began to heat me up. I wiggled my bottom slightly but JR didn’t respond. I wiggled a little more but with no response. It became a silent test of wills. I was determined to make him screw me and he was determined to resist. I began rotating my hips and gently thrusting upward. The unspoken rule was that he couldn’t with draw. My gyrations were beginning to work. I felt him grow harder. I began making hopeful little puppy whimpers. Finally I opened my eyes and looked back at him. That did it.

JR yanked his cock out of my pussy and slammed it back into my rectum. Then he went insane and fucked me like a wild man. He reached under me, grabbed my breasts with iron hard fingers and squeezed until I was gasping in pain and delight. He yanked and tugged and twisted my breasts until I wondered if they’d come off in his hands, but all the time I was feeling a rippling glow of pleasure. My breasts got hotter and hotter and a sweet buzzing seemed to come from my pussy. Finally JR came with one of the most violent orgasms I’d ever seen. He thrust into me with more power than I could imagine, and I came too!

I had an orgasm while being screwed in my ass. I don’t know if that was the source of ecstasy or it was the tormenting of my breasts, perhaps it was both, but I came!  

JR jumped off the bed, grabbed a whip and cut across my bottom with all his strength. It was like fire and it took all my will power not to scream. I raised my butt and begged for more. I got more.

JR whipped me so hard that my orgasms didn’t stop. I slid into a sort of trance where I felt the furious pain from the whip in perfect rhythm with my orgasms. I wasn’t gagged and didn’t want to take the time to have JR put one in my mouth, so in a deep part of my brain, where a tiny bit of reason still existed I clenched my teeth and held back my screams, but the rest of my being gave itself over to the heavenly delight of whip and orgasms.

When JR, exhausted, finally put the whip down, I lay on the bed and sobbed. He knelt beside me, looked at me in concern, then smiled when I managed to wink at him. He put a blanket over me, curled up beside me and we both fell asleep.

That was one of the best whippings I’d ever gotten. My legs and bottom were crossed with deep whip cuts and a couple of them were seeping drops of blood. JR felt terrible and apologized, but I hugged him close and thanked him for the most erotic afternoon of my life. His fingers left deep bruises on my breasts and the whip marks lasted for almost three weeks. Wonderful!

 

As we were packing up at the end of the day I asked JR to loan me the brand.

“Certainly,” he replied. “But what do you want it for?”

“I have a little idea,” I said. “I’d like to try it before I tell you.”

“You aren’t going to brand yourself again, are you?”

“No, nothing like that. Could you bring it next week?”

“I don’t have to,” he said. “Its in the trunk of my car.”

I took the brand to a custom leather goods shop and asked them to make me a purse, and to brand it with JR’s initials. They told me that branding would make it look like a cowgirl’s purse and suggested that if I preferred something more sophisticated they could emboss the leather instead. I agreed but insisted that the embossing match JR’s brand perfectly. It cost me extra but they made a special stamp.

I was delighted when I saw the purse. The workmanship was exquisite, they had embossed JR’s initials on the flap just as I’d wanted. I had selected leather the same color as my skin and told them to emboss the initials in a reddish brown dye. When I got home I undressed and held the purse beside my tummy. The stamp matched my brand perfectly.

The leather shop keeps the stamp for me. Over the years I’ve ordered purses, wallets, check books, belts and key rings, all embossed to match my brand. I have formal purses in black patent leather, every day brown, summer white and natural skin tone (my favorite). No one has ever asked me why those initials appear on all my leather items, but if anyone ever does I intend to tell them.

My scar healed after a couple of weeks and I allowed my pubic hair grew back. I hated to cover the brand and I was sorry when it stopped hurting because every twinge was an erotic thrill.

I’ve fantasized  about being branded again, perhaps on my bottom but specially on my breasts.  I pretend I’m bound tightly to a cross and my breasts are forced outward. I watch the red hot branding iron approach until I can feel the heat on my breast. Then JR touches the brand gently to my nipple and I hear that tiny sizzle just before I feel the pain. When the heat sears through my nipple its enough to make me cum. I told JR about my fantasy hoping he might actually do it to me, but he adamantly refuses. He says that one brand on my body is enough, and besides, he doesn’t want to permanently damage my breasts. Reluctantly I have to agree with him. Now that I’ve learned to enjoy my breasts I don’t want to have the  nerves damaged.

I did discover a nice substitute for branding though, hot candle wax. I saw pictures in a bondage magazine of women being tortured with hot wax dripped onto their breasts and I tried it at home. The effect of the hot wax hitting my nipple was terrific!

I was home alone one morning and found some old birthday candles in a kitchen drawer. I stripped to the waist, lit a candle and let the wax drip onto my breast. I had a tiny orgasm when the first drop landed and several more before I was done. I spent the entire morning dripping wax on myself.  My masochism had progressed to the point that any form of sexual pain was delightful. I went through the house a looking for candles and ended up burning every candle I could find. I had to go out that afternoon and buy a new supply. The only problem was that JR wasn’t torturing me and I wasn’t tied up.

I told JR about the candles and he agreed to torture me with hot wax. I brought several large thick candles to the motel and enjoyed one of the most erotically masochistic afternoons of my life. JR tied me to the bed with my back arched over a pile of pillows then knelt between my legs and screwed me while he poured wax on my breasts. The instant the first blob of hot wax landed on my nipple I had an orgasm. JR paused, wondering if I was thrashing in pain or delight. I assured him I was enjoying my self so he dripped more wax onto me. I warned him that he’d better gag me or else I was likely going to start screaming loud enough to disturb the whole neighborhood. He gagged me.

JR got turned on by my wild thrashing and fucked me very nicely. In fact we consumed all my candles so he got dressed and went out and bought more.

JR being who he is, took hot wax to another level. He poured molten wax onto my breasts until they were covered an inch thick. He broke off the cooled wax and coated my boobs again. Then he got creative. I hadn’t thought of pouring hot wax onto my pussy, but he did. He waited until my shudders from orgasm number eight (or possibly twenty-eight) died down, then without warning dumped a mass of molten wax right onto my pussy. Thank God I was gagged, otherwise my scream would have started people all across town.

JR waited until I regained my senses, then poured more wax into my crotch. I lost count of the orgasms and when we finally ran out of candles, and time, my pussy was buried under an inch of hardened wax. JR decided it would be fun to peel it off, and being a man had no idea about removing hair with wax. I was gagged and couldn’t tell him not to do it. I tried to yell in my gag but I’d been making so much noise with orgasms that he paid no attention. When he yanked that glob of wax half my pubic hair went with it. And I had another fantastic orgasm!

JR stared in astonishment, then laughed when he saw my bald pussy.

“Hey, I can see the brand,” he laughed. “I haven’t gotten a look at it since your hair grew in.”

He picked at the cooled wax.

“Hmm, we didn’t get it all.” He jerked another chunk off and I had another orgasm. He worked all the wax off along with the rest of my pubic hair.

I glared at him over my gag. Now I was going to have to dodge around and keep my husband from seeing me naked for several weeks. Still, it was nice to see my brand again.

When we ended that afternoon the bed was covered with little pieces of crumbly wax. So much so that I took the coverlet off the bed and shook it out in the parking lot

My breasts were bright red from being scorched, so was the skin around my pussy. My skin hurt for a couple of days, like a bad sunburn, and since I was by then a total masochist, it turned me on.

JR also came up with another way to remove built up wax, he whips it off.

One afternoon he produced that tiny little blue whip and snapped hit firmly across my wax covered breasts. A small chunk of wax came off with each blow and by the time my breast was clean it was bright pink, throbbing with arousal and I’d had a couple of more delightful little orgasms. JR cleared off my other breast the same way, then moved on to my pussy. He enjoyed de-waxing me so much that he covered my entire torso and started all over again.

JR and I continued to meet and he constantly thought up new ways to tie me up. He made an arrangement with the motel. Money changed hands and he arranged that we always get the same room and they allowed him to make a few minor modifications. He brought the mirrors back and mounted them permanently, and he attached hooks to the walls and ceiling. I wonder what the other guests think when they stay in the room.

I like the ceiling hook because he hoists me up by my wrists and whips my breasts. It took some getting used to and the first couple of times it really hurt my shoulders. JR saw that I was real pain and let me down  but I felt that I had failed him and begged him to hang me back up. He hoisted me up but kept me there only a short time. My shoulders hurt for several days.

I was determined to endure hanging by my wrists so I practiced at home. I made a noose and looped it over a beam in the garage. I stood on a box, placed my hands through the noose and let the rope take my weight. I practiced every chance I got until I could step off the box and really hang by my wrists. Now I can hang for hours.

I was almost discovered by my daughter one afternoon. I was hanging in the garage when I heard her come home. I rushed to step back on the box but accidentally kicked it over. I could hear her calling me as I frantically tried to reach the box with my toe. Her voice got closer and closer but I managed to reach the box and pull it close enough to stand on. I released myself and dropped to the floor just as she came in. She noticed my red face and rushed breathing.

“What’s the matter, Mom?” she asked.

“Nothing, I was exercising using this box, see?” I stepped on and off the box a few times. “Its cheaper than buying one of those work out machines.”

“What’s the rope for?” she asked.

“I can grab it if I lose my balance.”

“Ok,” she said doubtfully. I don’t think she believed me completely. 

I folded my arms to hide the rope marks on my wrists.

I like being hoisted up and whipped on my breasts, but after all these years still haven’t decided if I prefer having my ankles tied or having my legs loose. I feel really helpless when they’re tied, but its fun to kick and thrash my legs. JR likes watching my legs almost as much as he likes watching my breasts bounce.

Sometimes he ties my legs open and whips my pussy, and sometimes he hangs me upside down with a spreader bar between my ankles. I REALLY like that, especially when he whips my pussy!  

I saw some stuff in a fetish magazine about women being hanged by their necks, real hanging, like an execution. Apparently some people find that erotic. I saw it as an extreme form of submission and it intrigued me so I asked JR to hang me by the neck. He had reservations but agreed to try it.

He tied my hands behind my back, tied my knees and ankles very tightly then made a hangman’s noose and slipped it over my head. I wasn’t frightened and my pussy tingled with anticipation. I smiled  brightly at him. He took a grip on the rope and hauled me up. The rope tightened on my throat and I felt an unpleasant pressure in my face and ears. JR held me for a few minutes, then lowered me to the floor.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I told him. “Lets try again.”

He pulled me up until me feet were off the floor. I felt the same pressure and constriction on my throat. I held my breath as long as I could but finally had to breathe. I gasped and rolled my eyes at JR and he let me down.

He took the noose off and I caught my breath.

“Once more,” I said.

He hauled me up again and I tried to wiggle around a bit, but when I ran out of breath he lowered me.

“I don’t think this does anything for me,” he said.

I nodded. It didn’t turn me on either.

JR made some portable restraint devices and brought them to the motel. 

He made a set of stocks, like from the middle ages. I like being locked into them and getting a good screwing from behind, but they are bulky and take too long to set up, so we didn’t use them very often.

JR also brings a kneeling post, which is just a four by four post atop a padded wooden base. He makes me kneel with my back to the post and ties my arms and legs behind it. I enjoy the position because I feel nicely submissive on my knees and its ideal for sucking his cock. He can whip my breasts, but other than that there isn’t much else he can do to me. He’s kept me tied to the post for long periods of time (thank God for the padding under my knees) and I’ve gotten so used to it that I’ve actually fallen asleep .

One Saturday I’d just sucked his cock until he filled my mouth with cum. He staggered to the bed, collapsed and fell asleep. I resigned myself to wait until he woke up.

I knelt quietly and listened to the sounds of traffic outside but I wasn’t bored. I daydreamed that the door blew open again and a couple of men walked past and saw me. They came in the room, saw JR asleep on the bed, then tiptoed over to me. I whispered to them to open their trousers and I would suck their cocks, but they had to be quiet and not wake my master. They did as I suggested and I sucked them both, unfortunately they forgot to close the door and another man happened by so I had to suck his cock as well. More men wandered in and in my daydream I sucked the cocks of a dozen men, all without disturbing JR’s nap.

I was so turned on by my daydream that when JR woke up I begged to suck his cock again. He thought it over, then graciously allowed me to do it. He was delighted at how enthusiastic I was.

Another of JR’s creations is a sort of a platform with an opening for my breasts. He rests the ends across two chairs and I lie face down on it. My breasts drop through the opening, he ties me to the table, then spends hours tying ropes around my boobs, hanging weights from my nipples and generally driving me out of my mind. Its also convenient for placing candles under my breasts. I don’t get wax on my boobs, but the heat on my nipples is excruciatingly erotic. I pretend I’m being roasted alive, like a woman in Dolcett’s drawings.

One day he experimented with how wide he could spread my legs. He brought a long board with rings on the ends. He put the board under the mattress so it stuck out five feet on each side of the bed. He tied me to the bed, ran my ankle ropes through the rings on the ends of the boards and tightened them. He tightened them for half an hour. He’d tie the ropes, wait for my muscles to stretch and adjust, then tighten the ropes some more. When I say he tightened them, I mean HE TIGHTENED THEM! I thought he was going to dislocate my hips. By the time he decided that my legs weren’t going to open any further, I was in pain, serious, non erotic pain.

He made up for it by eating my pussy for the rest of the afternoon but I told him he was going to have to do a lot more before I was ready to forgive him.

I’d strained the muscles in my thighs and was so sore that I could barely walk for days. I told everyone that I’d over done my workout at aerobics.

JR was genuinely contrite and the next week he didn’t tie me up. He brought a bottle of my favorite wine and a box of candy and had me lie on the bed while he gave me a massage. He rubbed my legs and my back and nuzzled my neck and ears until I was purring like a cat.

I enjoyed being pampered and milked it for a couple of hours, then decided that I wanted to be tied up. I told him that I would forgive him only if he gave me a good sound spanking.

My favorite device is an X cross. He brought it disassembled and put it together with bolts and wing nuts. He simply leaned it against the wall and strapped me to it. It makes me feel wonderfully vulnerable and although he usually whips my pussy, JR can think up a lot of other wicked things to do to me, especially when it comes to amusing himself with my breasts.

One afternoon I fell asleep on the cross.

JR had played with my pussy for about an hour and I’d had a wonderful orgasm. I was floating in a warm pink haze and fell asleep.

JR slipped on his pants and got his camera from his car. I woke up just as he snapped a picture of me. I smiled and he took several more.

The pictures turned out nicely but one in particular was special. He cropped and enlarged it until my face filled the frame like a close up. My head was tilted down slightly, I’d just opened my eyes and had a contented smile on my lips, and by pure chance the light and shadows helped create a very artistic picture. Its probably the best photograph ever taken of me.

JR printed an eight by ten of my face, and a full length picture of me on the cross. I framed the portrait, hid the other picture behind it in the frame and put it on my dresser. I told my husband that the company photographer was testing a new camera and had snapped the picture. Hubby liked it so well that he talked me into putting it in the living room. 

CH 6

I waited until the kids were grown, then six years after becoming JR’s slave I divorced my husband. He took it calmly and didn’t seem surprised or upset when I told him I wanted a divorce. He accepted it with the same dull complacency that he takes everything in life.

For years I’d dreamt about telling him about JR. I had the pictures and video ready. I shaved my pussy so I could show him my brand, but at the last minute I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I felt sorry for the weak little slug and decided not to humiliate him so I said nothing about JR and my secret life.

The divorce was amicable. We sold the house and split the proceeds. My husband bought a tiny place in the country near his favorite fishing stream and will happily spend the rest of his life there. I bought a townhouse and live alone. After the divorce my anger faded. We see each other at family get togethers and are civil to one another, almost friendly.

I felt as if a thousand pounds had been lifted off me. I was free to love my man and free to live my life. After the divorce JR and I still met at the motel, but now I walked in with my head high and my eyes sparkling. I not only didn’t care if people knew that I was meeting my master, I wanted them to know!

I was so proud of being JR’s slave that I went back to the sex shop and bought a bunch of slave girl accessories.

I browsed through the shop looking at whips and handcuffs and fetish jewelry. The same woman waited on me and she remembered me.

“How did the nipple bells work out?” she asked.

“Quite nicely,” I said. “They get a lot of use.”

“Have you changed your mind about getting your nipples pierced?” she asked.

“No, I haven’t given it much thought. My only form of body modification has been to be branded.”

“You’ve been branded?” she asked. “Really?”

“Yes I have. My master burned his initials on me.” I lowered my voice. “In a very intimate place.”

Her eyes went to my breasts.

“No, not my boobs,” I said. “Lower down.” I pointed at my crotch.

“My God!” she whispered in awe.

I discovered that its as much fun to tease a woman as it is to tease a man. I began to flirt with her.

“I suppose I could ask my master if he wants me to have my nipples pierced,” I said. “He might consider it.”

She leaned close. “I’ll do it for free.”

“That’s awfully nice of you,” I said. “But I get the feeling that there would be some strings attached. Or should I say ropes?”

She smiled and nodded.

“I was tied to a chair when my master branded me,” I said. “I expect you would want to tie me up too.”

“You better believe it,” she said.

I pretended to be shocked.

“Have you given any thought about being dominated by a woman?” she asked. “I wouldn’t charge you for that either.”

“Actually I have thought about it,” I told her. “I’d submit to a woman if my master told me to but I’d be doing it to prove my devotion him. He would have to order me to do it.”

“Do you think he would?”

“I doubt it, he said that he already had enough proof from me.”

“Damn.”

She had to wait on another customer so I continued shopping.

I saw a slave collar I liked.

Its a heavy steel ring half an inch thick. Its massive and brutal looking and held together by a heavy padlock. Its purpose is obvious.

I tried on several until I found one that fit. Most were too big for my neck and I realized they were designed for male slaves.    

I bought a set of tiny handcuff earrings and some tee shirts that say things like: ‘Sex Slave’, Chain Me To Your Bed’ and ‘Whips And Shackles And Chains, Oh My!’

I teased the woman again when I paid for my things.

“Don’t wrap the steel collar,” I told her. “I’ll wear it home.”

“Going to see your master today?” she asked.

“No, I won’t see him for a couple of days. I’ll just wear it around the house until then.”

“Naughty lady,” she laughed. “By the way, would you give me your master’s phone number?”

“What for?”

“I want to ask his permission to tie you up,” she said.

“No way,” I laughed. “But, since you’ve been so nice I’ll let you to put this on me.” I handed her the ring.

I leaned across the counter while she placed the ring around my neck. She snapped the lock and offered me the key. I unbuttoned the top of my shirt and stuck my chest forward. She dropped the key in my bra, then slipped her finger into my cleavage. I actually let her touch me for a second before I straightened up.

“You’re a tease,” she said. “You need to be taught some discipline.”

“No doubt about that,” I said looking at my collar in a mirror. “What have you got in mind?”

“A damn good whipping.”

I looked at her, rubbed my breasts and smiled.

“Honey, I can take the worst you could give and never bat an eye.”

“Why don’t we find out?” she whispered.

“Not a chance.” I made a kissing mouth.

“Oh, you little bitch,” she laughed.

“You’ve got that right.” I said.

I bought a leather mini skirt and spike heels to wear with my slave girl tee shirts. I attract a lot of attention when I arrive at the motel, I even get whistled at.

One afternoon while I was hopping back and forth in the room there was a knock at the door. JR answered it and I heard the motel clerk’s voice.

“I’m really sorry to bother you,” he said. “But its driving me crazy, what is that jingling noise?”

JR stepped back and opened the door wide. The clerk’s mouth dropped open when he saw me.

I was tied at my ankles and knees and my arms were bent up behind my back. I wore my golden pussy chain, my nipple bells and a gag. My hair was a mess, I was sweating and my breasts were heaving from exertion. JR let the clerk look for a moment, then snapped his fingers at me and I resumed hopping. When I reached the wall and turned the clerk was gone.

Later as I was leaving the clerk stopped me in the parking lot.

“I was wondering what you charge for a session,” he asked politely.

I guess I should have expected to be mistaken for a hooker, especially the way I was dressed, so I wasn’t offended. He was young and cute and I decided to mess with him.

“I’m afraid I’m not available,” I said. “I’m in private practice and on permanent retainer to a single client.”

“Oh,” he was disappointed.

“Besides, I’m too old for you, even if I was accepting new customers.”

“How old are you?” he asked, looking at my boobs.

“I’m forty six years old.”

“No way too old,” he said.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“I’m twenty three,” he said. “I’m working my way through college.”

“Well, you aren’t going to get a student discount,” I laughed. “In fact, I’d probably charge you extra.”

“You got a deal,” he grinned and nodded at my breasts. “I’d pay a lot to get my hands on those beauties.”

“My client ties me up and tortures me,” I said. “Would you want to do that or just pay to simply screw me?”

“I’d want to torture you.”

His trousers poked forward with an impressive erection.

For a minute I was tempted. I was really tempted! He was young and handsome and virile, and I wondered what he would do to me.

“Sorry,” I said.  “It might be fun, but I’m under an exclusive contract. If I let you screw me my client would punish me.”

“You poor thing,” he grinned. “If you ever change your mind, let me know.”

He patted my bottom as I walked away. It felt good.

I would never betray JR or risk ruining our relationship, but I was flattered by the clerk’s offer. I did fantasize about the young man and wondered if there was any way to manipulate JR into selling me to him for an afternoon. In the end I decided not to try, JR is no fool and would see what I was up to. And it occurred to me that if I told JR I’d like to be loaned out he might give me to a woman, just to teach me a lesson, so I limited myself to teasing the clerk.

One afternoon as I arrived at the motel I saw him sitting outside the office reading a book.  I parked close to him and took my time getting out of my car. I opened my legs and made sure that he got a good long look at my panties. He grinned in delight and nodded his gratitude.

The next time I arrived he was waiting outside so I drove past the motel and stopped around the corner. I pulled my skirt up to my waist and slipped my panties off. The clerk looked up as I drove into the lot. I opened the car door, turned toward him and opened my legs. I gave him a long look at my pussy then stood up, tugged my skirt down and gave him a big smile.

(That little stunt almost backfired on me when I forgot that my panties were in my car. I allowed one of my sons to drive the car and remembered the panties just before he got in. I ran out and asked him to check the windshield fluid. While he was under the hood I reached in and grabbed my panties.)   

The motel clerk and I play a little game every Saturday. He usually manages to be outside the office when I arrive and I let him get a peek at my pussy. One after noon as I was leaving he walked me to my car and held the door for me. He stared blatantly at my legs as I sat down. He leaned over me and chatted while I opened my legs and let him look all he wanted.

I also perfected my ‘slut strut’. I practiced walking with my boobs thrust out and an exaggerated swing to my hips. The motel clerk actually applauded the first time he saw me walking that way. A couple was leaving a room and they stopped and stared at me. The woman’s mouth dropped open in pure indignation but her husband grinned from ear to ear. When I got to the door I did a pirouette, shook my boobs at the clerk and went inside. I looked out the window and saw the woman giving her husband pure hell for grinning at me. The clerk was leaning against the wall helpless with laughter.

Once when I arrived he held up a camera and raised his eyebrows questioningly. I decided to let him take my picture but I held up a warning finger then covered my face with my hands. I opened my door, spread my legs and let him take several pictures. I appreciated the fact that he was gentleman enough not to take my picture without asking my permission. At the end of the day I left my bra off and when the clerk walked me to my car I unbuttoned my blouse and let him look at my boobs. He grew daring and reached in and squeezed a nipple. I giggled, slapped his hand and drove away. I waited until I was in my own neighborhood before I buttoned my blouse.

The clerk always repeats his request to purchase a few hours of my time and has offered some generous amounts of money. I have been greatly tempted, not by the money, but just to see what another master would do to me in bondage. So far I’ve managed to resist, but he is awfully handsome. 

Sometimes I fantasize about the young clerk watching me on a hidden camera while JR tortures me.

(Did I mention that slavery tends to remove all inhibitions?)

                                       

My kids are grown now. Two boys are in the military. One flies jets off an aircraft carrier and the other commands a company of Marines and I’m very proud of them. My other son and my daughter are married and have six children between them so guess what? I’m a grandmother.

I love being a grandmother, I take the kids to the park, the zoo, to soccer practice, and do all the things that grandmothers do, and some things that most grandmothers probably don’t do, (I don’t suppose many other grandmothers wear slave brands or get tied up and whipped on a regular basis, or wear pussy chains under their clothing) but I could be mistaken.

JR and I discussed living together and decided that the old saying about the best lovers making lousy spouses might hold true in our case. We didn’t want to make our relationship humdrum or ordinary.

I’m still his slave and we get together for bondage three or four times a week. Sometimes he tortures me and other times he keeps me bound for long times. I love being tortured but I’ve also grown to enjoy extended periods of bondage.

Once we decided to explore how long I could endure being tied up. JR cocooned me in rope and didn’t release me for six hours. The only reason he untied me was that I had to go to the bath room so bad that I thought I would die.

We tried another time and he kept me tied up for twenty four hours. We agreed that I would get a ten minute potty break every four hours and he used simple bindings which were easy to remove. JR fed me and gave me fluids through a straw and gave me my breaks, but otherwise I simply lay in my ropes in a quiet bedroom from noon Friday until noon Saturday. It was heavenly.

I was stiff and sore when JR untied me, but as soon as I was free I grabbed him, tore his clothes off and threw him on the bed.

We’ve done that several times and I’ve been pestering him to tie me up for forty eight hours. So far he’s refused but I’m starting to wear him down. 

We’ve tried other forms of bondage, but I don’t care for handcuffs or metal shackles, they feel too impersonal, and leather restraint cuffs aren’t tight enough to suit me, so we stick to rope. I’ve tried self bondage but its just not the same, but I did tie myself to my bed one day when JR was coming over. He let himself in with his key and found me naked on my bed. I was hot as hell when he walked in and he proceeded to screw me half silly, but JR enjoys the act of tying me so I wait and let him play with the ropes.

After all these years I am still very proud of my brand. I love to look at it and most of the time I walk around my townhouse in the nude. (Many visitors have commented on my unique style of decor which includes a lot of mirrors.) I keep my pussy hairless so that my brand is visible.

Sometimes I shave my pussy but I prefer to have JR remove my pubic hair with wax and a whip. (A suggestion for all you ladies who use waxing as a depilatory method: get a handsome man to tie you a bed and wax your pussy).

I shop at the sex store and every time I go in the clerk propositions me. Its almost a standing joke between us, except that she is serious. I get a wicked delight in teasing her.

I went back and bought a heavy leather corset. It is very restrictive and makes me feel submissive. It looks very sexy on me, especially when I add stockings and heels. The clerk insisted on taking plenty of time fitting it to me.

“All kidding aside,” she said. “A corset should be fitted properly and that takes time.”

“Sure it does,” I laughed. “Go ahead.”

We went into the fitting room.

“You really should be naked,” she said.

“Ok, but I’m keeping my panties on.”

She watched as I undressed. I held my arms over my head as she laced me into the corset.

“The best way to do this is to tie your arms to a beam.” she said.

“What, and have you take advantage of me?” I laughed. It was fun teasing her, and I have to confess that I was getting turned on. I began to wonder what it would be like to let her dominate me. After all, JR would never know.

I came close that day, very close. The clerk took liberties as she fitted the corset, her fingers slipped over my breasts and a few times she tweaked my nipples. I liked it and began to wonder if I had hidden lesbian tendencies. I shuddered when she caressed my bottom, and for a moment considered allowing her to tie my wrists, but I was strong and didn’t give in to temptation.

Finally she was satisfied that the corset was right.

“Do you want to take it off or wear it home?” she asked.

“I’ll wear it.”

“Look, I’d really like to ask a favor,” she said.

“What’s that?” I asked warily. “I’m not going to let you tie me up.”

“I know,” she said. “But I’d really like to see your brand.”

I’d told her about the brand years earlier and she had not forgotten.

She had a look of pure hunger in her eyes. I was sorry for her but very excited too. This woman wanted me more than any man ever had. That’s when I came closest to submitting to her.

“All right,” I said. “I’ll let you look but you can’t touch.”

She nodded

“You may pull my panties down,”

She dropped to her knees and slipped my panties down to my ankles. She gasped when she saw the brand. She stared for a moment, then slowly leaned forward, as if she was going to kiss my belly. I almost let her, but got hold of myself and stepped back.

“That’s enough,” I said. “Now go outside while I get dressed.”

I put my clothes on but left my panties off. As I was paying for the corset the clerk let out a gasp. She was staring at my purse and made the connection to my brand.

“Oh, do you like that?” I asked innocently.

“Its incredible!” she gasped. “That is the most fantastic thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I had the purse custom made,” I said. “It matches my pussy perfectly, see?”

I raised my skirt and held my purse next to my pussy. Right there in public, with people walking past the windows! I thought the poor woman’s eyes were going to pop out of her head.

I held my skirt up for a minute, then let it fall, took my panties out of my purse and handed them to her.

JR bought a punishment bra for me and I had a delightful afternoon letting the clerk measure me. I teased her cruelly and by the end of my visit to the store she was begging to have sex with me. It was even more fun when the bra came in and I went to the store to pick it up. I stripped naked  to let her fit me into the bra. She couldn’t keep her eyes off my brand and offered anything I wanted to permit her to kiss my pussy right then and there. I was amazed at the power I had over that woman. Her lust for me was almost frightening. I pretended to consider her offer and told her that if I was to have sex with her she might have to submit to domination from me. I was kidding, the idea of tying someone up had never occurred to me, but she dropped to her knees and told me that I could do anything I wanted to her. I frightened myself by almost agreeing. On the way home I thought about dominating that woman. I wondered what it might be like to hurt her, to cause erotic pain, then let her put her tongue on me. I was squirming in my seat by the time I got home.

I like my punishment bra and later went back and ordered a torture bra. I love wearing it but can only do so once every few months because the spikes cut and scratch my skin and I don’t want my breasts to be scarred. JR wouldn’t like that so I must let the scratches heal before I wear it again.

So far I haven’t had sex with the woman from the sex shop. I discussed it with JR and he told me that I was free to do anything I want. He was sincere and not the least bit jealous. Sometimes I think about taking her up on her offer but I can’t make up my mind if I want to dominate her or to submit.

(Years later when I discovered that my friend Mary Moore is a sex slave, she told me that she knows the woman at the shop and has submitted to her many times. Mary is openly bi sexual and tells me that at least once in my life I ought to give myself a ‘night out with the girls’ in a dungeon full of lesbians. Maybe, maybe, maybe.) 

Besides bondage JR and I also get together for normal occasions. I cook for him or he takes me to dinner. We go dancing and to concerts and I always wear my pussy chain under my dress.

We also take vacations together, although after the first trip we had to agree on some ground rules.

We went to the Caribbean and stayed in a five star hotel on St. Kitts. JR wanted to enjoy the beach and see the sights and I just wanted to be tied up. He finally threw a fit and told me that he hadn’t paid a lot of money just so I could stay tied to the bed in our room. I pouted, but concede that he had a point, so I got dressed and we went out.

I discovered another erotic pleasure that evening. I wore a short tropical dress and no panties, and while walking along the beach a gust of wind flipped my skirt up. I became very excited and hoped that another gust might let some stranger get a peek at my brand. After that I became quite daring and I often forget to sit in a proper ladylike fashion. JR says that getting branded turned me into an exhibitionist.

“I’m not an exhibitionist,” I said. “I’m not showing off my body, I’m showing off my brand.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I’m proud of my brand, not my body.”

“Does it turn you on when they look?” he asked.

“Yes, very much.”

“Then I’d say you’re an exhibitionist.”

“No, because if I was I would want men to look at my pussy instead of the brand.”

“Trust me, they are not interested in looking at your brand,” he said.

“Perhaps not,” I said. “But that’s what I want to show off. You  see . . umpf.” He stuffed a gag in my mouth and turned on the television.

Perhaps he’s right, maybe I really am an exhibitionist, but I only allow myself to be that naughty when we are thousands of miles from home. (Most of the time that is, sometimes I can’t help myself and get naughty in Denver too.)

We reached an agreement that while on vacation I would only be tied up after nine at night.

I introduced JR to my family and my kids like him, in fact, my daughter approves of him so much that she told me that if I ever get remarried I ought to marry him. Perhaps someday, but for now I’m content the way things are.

JR and I have been together for sixteen years and I love him more today than when we first met, and I am so proud to be his woman and to wear his brand.

                                       End

Author’s note:

I wrote this on behalf of a friend. The names have been changed but the woman in this story actually lives in Denver. We had known each other for many years before discovering that we were both lovers of bondage. It came about when I bumped into her at the bondage store. She was embarrassed but I convinced her that she had nothing to be ashamed of, after all, I was shopping there too. I invited her home and over several glasses of wine we talked about bondage. My friend had never been able to confide in anyone about her secret life so when she found that I was a kindred spirit, her story just poured out.

I urged her to explore other aspects of slavery, including submission to a woman, if only once to satisfy her curiosity. I told her about some of my bondage experiences and gave her one of my stories to read. I also suggested that she write her story.

She doesn’t feel that she has the writing skills and begged me to write it for her. She repeated the story, dictating into a tape recorder and with me taking notes. Her story is so fantastically erotic that at first I thought she was making it up, , ,  that is, until she showed me her brand.

By the way, , , her purses really do match her brand.

Mary Elizabeth Moore (aka Shackleford Bond)

My Custom Made Leather Accessories

                                       Part Two

                                       CH 7

       I finally talked JR into tying me up for two whole days. He’d already kept me in bondage for twenty four hours and I’d loved it. We’d done it several times over the years and initially JR had been reluctant to keep me in ropes so long for fear that I might be injured, but he finally conceded that I’d come to no harm. Being helpless and immobile for hours at a stretch is erotic in the extreme for me. Sometimes I get muscle cramps and I am always stiff afterwards, but being helpless excites me beyond belief. And now I wanted to be tied for a solid forty eight hours. JR had serious 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. 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 inside. 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 cell for me.

He’d made the walls out of thick wooden dowels and painted them gray to look like iron bars. 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 JR 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 nice 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 like my corset it 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 cross me legs and let him look up my skirt for a second, 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.

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. Hmm.  

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, especially at my age.  

My relationship with the clerk began the first time he saw me in bondage. 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 delighted 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.

“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 proudly.

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.

“All my purses, 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.

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 touched the brand gingerly with the tip of his thumb. He caressed the brand 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 leaned inside and 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.

“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 wondered what else the clerk might order me to do, and I wondered 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 my pussy chain was still on the desk. I thought about leaving it but my exhibitionism got the better of me. 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 a 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 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 arrived, 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?

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 locked out of the cell and forced to watch while I sucked on the clerk’s cock. He 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 decide 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 upside 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 women in stalls as far as the eye could see.

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. 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 came very soon but he didn’t stop.

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 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. 

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. 

I apologize for the duplication of part two. I’d sent it in but it wasn’t posted on the website for quite some time, so I resubmitted it just as the site manager posted it, along with the second submission. This is the actual part three.  -  Shackleford Bond

My Custom Made Leather Accessories

                               Part 3

               

CH 11

In the morning JR allowed me to remain free for an hour after breakfast. I spent half that time doing stretching exercises and the rest in a long hot soak in the tub. Then it was back to bondage. JR walked into the bathroom just as I climbed out of the tub. He grasped my hands, tied my wrists together then toweled me dry, making sure that he got all those nice private nooks and crannies. My face was bright pink by the time he finished and I hoped he might go just a little further but he stuck to his vow of no sex.

JR told me that I was going to spend four hours on the X cross.

“I can set it up in the family room if you’d like some light,” he said.

“I’d rather be in my little dungeon in the basement,” I told him.

“Hah, you just want your little phantom kitten to come back,” he said.

“Well, at least he gives me attention,” I said. “He hasn’t lost interest in my breasts.”

“Keep talking like that and you might spend another day in ropes.”

“Ooh, is that a promise?”

JR strapped me to the cross and it felt wonderful, and he only strapped my wrists and ankles so I was free to wiggle around. I thought he was being nice, especially when he placed a crotch rope between the lips of my pussy. That felt very good.

He put a fresh gag in my mouth (the one I’d worn yesterday was ruined, I’d almost chewed the rubber ball to pieces), and put a blindfold over my eyes.

I felt him doing something with my crotch rope but wasn’t sure what it was. I hoped he was tying it to something secure so I could get it moving through my pussy. I waited patiently while he puttered around but the moment I heard him leave I started sliding my hips back and forth.

The rope felt nice but it wasn’t very tight. I dropped my body but it still didn’t tighten. I wiggled and twisted but nothing gave me enough pressure to have an orgasm. What had that wicked man done to me now?

I waited patiently (as if I had a choice). From time to time I wiggled but the rope still wasn’t tight enough. Oh, I could feel it, but it was just too loose. Damn! Oh well, maybe my little kitten would come back.

Would he still want to bite my breasts? How would he get to them? Would he climb up my body like climbing a tree? Oooh, that sounded nice. I could almost feel his little claws in my skin. Would he pause at my pussy? Kittens are inquisitive; maybe he’d want to explore the area between my legs. He might put his paw up my pussy to see what’s inside. Oh, but the rope would be in the way. He might not be able to get his paw inside me. Hmmm, but the rope would be wet with my juices and he might like the taste. I wonder if he’d chew on the rope, or better yet, chew on me. Perhaps he’d be intrigued by my pubic hair (oops I forgot, no pussy hair. I keep my pussy nude to show off my brand). Too bad because I could imagine his pink little nose sniffing though my hair and his paw batting playfully at it.

Perhaps he’d climb into the rope and walk along it. Great idea. Maybe his weight would tighten the rope so I could make myself come. Maybe he’d go get all his little friends and they’d climb up until there were a dozen kittens sitting on the rope watching me gyrate. I wonder if they would understand what I was doing?

Or would they just climb up my chest to nurse at my nipples? Some could stay at my pussy and the others take a breast. Twelve kitties meant four between my legs and four at each breast. I wonder how I could get them to do that. My breasts are probably big enough for four kittens to hang on, although it might be crowded. Of course, they’d have to dig their claws firmly into my flesh or they would fall off. Would they be patient enough to wait their turn at my nipples, or would they fight over me and push each other out of the way? They’d probably fight and some would fall off. Oh I hope they don’t knock the ones at my pussy off too.

I imagined a pile of kittens rolling around on the floor, then one would remember me and scramble back up my leg. The others would follow.

I think I’ve figured out why my pussy rope is so frustrating. I’ll bet that JR put the end over something and attached a weight to it. Only the weight is light, too light to create any friction. Oh, what a devil he can be!

Perhaps my kitties will see the problem and help me. They would see the weight bouncing up and down and they would leap up and grab hold. One kitten wouldn’t be heavy enough, I’d need more. Maybe all of them would do the trick. I imagined a thick furry cluster of kittens hanging tightly around the end of the rope while I pumped my hips. They would like the ride, especially when I got close and was thrusting back and forth like a mad woman, they would be bouncing up and down too. Afterwards they would wait patiently until I was ready for another orgasm. What sweet little darlings they were. 

Oh, no! A dog just trotted into my dungeon and the kittens have scattered. The dog looks at me, and then sniffs around the room. At least he didn’t bite any of the kitties. Wait, he’s nosing the end of my pussy rope. He picked at it with his paw, and then sniffed it again. Does he smell my pussy juices? Does my odor transmit along the rope, or have I soaked the rope its entire length? That wouldn’t surprise me.

He’s taking the rope in his mouth. Yes, good doggie. Now back up. He shakes his head playfully, the rope tightens in my pussy. A little more please. He pulls it tighter. It feels wonderful. I push myself away from the cross as far as my bonds allow, then I slam my body back and yank the rope. It jerks out of his grip but he pounces on the rope and pulls backwards. He looks at me expectantly and I yank again. He tightens his bite and pulls away. Good doggie! He thinks it’s a great game. So do I! I fight him for the rope and he tugs and shakes his head and growls happily and I have an orgasm!

I hang happily on my cross. The kittens are gone, the dog is gone, but the happy sweet glow in my pussy and my soul are still there. I slowly calm down, my breathing returns to normal and I start to feel a chill as the perspiration cools on my body. I hear a noise. Is the dog back?

“Well, that looked pretty impressive,” JR said. He removed my gag and blindfold and held a glass of water to my mouth. “I could hear the cross creaking clear out in the back yard.”

“I had an orgasm,” I said proudly.

“How did you manage that?” he asked.

“It was the kittens and a dog,” I said. “They helped me.”

“Kittens and a dog?” he asked incredulously.

I nodded. “They were just here.”

He looked around the basement. He even knelt and peered under a shelf.

“I think I’d better untie you and go get you some help.”

“I am not crazy,” I informed him. “In fact, I feel very good.” I wriggled contentedly.

“I’m sure lots of delusional people feel the same way,” he said.

“Well, if I’m delusional, lets just keep it that way.”

“Really? Well why don’t you tell me about your delusions,” he said.

“I’d love too, make yourself comfortable.”

He sat on the bed, arranged the pillow behind his back and looked at me with exaggerated interest. “I’m all ears.”

“No, you’re all prick,” I told him. “But I’ll tell you my story anyway.”

JR listened as I related my fantasy, (or delusion). His mocking expression faded and he nodded a few times. I got excited as I recounted my daydream and was breathing rather fast by the time I finished.

“It sounds very erotic,” JR said. “I wonder if anyone has ever done any psychological studies on the sexual effects of input deprivation?”

“Its called sensory deprivation,” I said. “And perhaps the isolation down here gives my imagination more freedom.”

“Could be,” he shrugged. “And if that’s true then more people ought to be locked away in a velvet dungeon.”

“As far as I’m concerned, you can keep me locked down here for the rest of my life,” I cooed.

“Nope. I want to play too,” he said. “If I leave you down here you wouldn’t need me.”

“Of course I would,” I said. “I’d need you to feed me.”

“And what would I get out of the deal?”

“Anything you want.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, I just can’t see how an imaginary orgasm can compete with the real thing.”

“The orgasm wasn’t imaginary,” I said. “Just the kittens were.”

“Nah, I still think the old ways are best,” he said and casually yanked my pussy rope.

It tightened between my legs and sent me into a terrific and entirely unexpected orgasm. I screamed so loud that dust sifted down from the ceiling. JR waited a few minutes and just as I opened my eyes he yanked again. Another nuclear bomb exploded somewhere between my pussy and my soul and I blacked out for a few seconds. When I came back to existence I heard JR chuckling as he climbed the stairs.

I hung on my cross for the rest of the morning in a happy pink haze. I replayed my orgasm over and over in my mind but my kitties and the dog didn’t come back. But people did.

Another hallucination formed and I saw people gathering outside my cell. They wanted me but the door was locked so they couldn’t get in. They reached through the bars but couldn’t get to me. I strained against my bonds and pushed my breasts out trying to let them touch me.

JR appeared carrying a brazier full of hot coals. He shouldered his way through the crowd and came into the cell. He put the brazier close to me, so close that I could feel the heat between my legs, then he put a handful of branding irons in the fire.

He looked my body over thoughtfully then used a marker to draw small circles on my skin. He marked my thighs, my tummy, my ribs and my breasts. The crowd watched intently and gasped when he drew a circle around each of my nipples.

When the irons were hot he opened the door and admitted the people one by one.

As each man and woman entered they drew a number from a hat, then took an iron from the brazier. JR pointed out the location of their number and they pressed the hot iron against my skin. I shrieked in delight as each red hot iron touched me, and the people waiting their turn applauded as I convulsed in orgasm.

Finally there were only two people left, both women. They had drawn the numbers for my nipples. Their irons had the letters J and R. The women took the glowing irons from the fire, took firm hold of a breast, and on a count of three pressed the irons hard onto my nipples; J on the right, R on the left.

I screamed and screamed and fought my ropes but they held the irons hard in place. I saw wisps of smoke rise from my nipples and smelled my own body cooking. They pushed harder until I felt the irons against my ribs, and even then my orgasm rolled on continuously.

“Now what?” JR asked.

I raised my head and looked at him dazedly. I looked at my breasts. They were unmarked, but I could still smell my burnt flesh. How could that be? I looked back at JR but he wasn’t there.

The curtain parted and he appeared. My God! I’d hallucinated about him too.

“Are you ok?” he asked, removing my gag.

“Um hmm.”

He looked at my sweat covered body and heaving chest. “Did you have another orgasm?” he asked astonished.

“Um hmm.”

“Incredible! The kittens again?”

“No, not them.” I was drifting in a sweet cloud and didn’t feel like talking.

“Something different this time?” he asked.

I nodded absently.

“OK, I get it,” he laughed. “You can tell me later.”

“Come back in about twenty minutes,” I said.

When JR returned I told him about my branding hallucination, then I begged him to brand me again.

“No way,” he said firmly. “Once is enough.”

“I want to experience the pain again,” I whispered. “And I want your brand on me more than just one place.”

“Where would we put it?”

“How about on my chest between my breasts? That way it would show if I wear low cut blouses.”

“What? And have every body in the world see it?”

“That’s the whole idea,” I said. “I want the whole world to know that I belong to you.”

“Well, I appreciate that,” he said flattered. “But I think you ought to be a little more discreet. At least no one has ever seen the brand where it’s at.”

“Want to bet?”

“What?”

“Other people have seen your brand on my body.”

“Who?”

I started to tell him about the motel clerk, but changed my mind.

“My doctor.”

“Oh. Well, I guess that’s ok.” He thought for a moment. “What did he say when he saw it?”

“He wanted to know what it was, so I told him.”

“Was he shocked?”

“I’d say he was intrigued, but not shocked. I told him all about how you kidnapped me and tortured me and branded me against my will.”

He chuckled. “And raped you.”

“Yes, that too.”

(Actually my doctor is a woman and I did tell her the story of my branding, but despite her professional detachment she was intrigued, and she was breathing rather fast by the time I finished.)

“And if I branded you again I suppose you’d rush over to your doctor and show off the new brand?”

“I certainly would,” I said. “And I’d go shopping for the lowest necklines I could find.”

“And what would you say to your children?” he asked.

“I’d keep it covered around them,” I said. “But I might tell my daughter. I think she suspects that there’s a little more to our relationship than just boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Does she know that you are a sex slave?”

“Maybe, she’s pretty smart.”

“Wow.”

“Don’t worry,” I told him. “She likes you.”

“Amazing.”

“Uh huh, so can I please be branded again?”

“Nope. I don’t want your body marked any more than it already is.”

“Please?”

He walked out and turned off the lights.

I must have fallen asleep because when I woke a barbeque grill filled with red glowing coals was a few inches from my tummy. I felt the heat and wondered if it was real. I looked around but could see no one outside my cell. No men, no women, no cats or dogs. Everything was totally dark and the only light was the red glow of the coals.

I looked closely and saw two branding irons resting on the coals. They were red hot. My pussy tingled with pleasure and I stared at the fire for a very long time. The red glow was hypnotic and I drifted off.

I awoke to find JR putting my gag back in my mouth. I tried to ask a question but he shoved the gag in and buckled it tightly. Then he put the blindfold over my eyes. Just as it descended I looked down and saw a bright red glow between my legs. My God! Was a hot grill really down there?

JR is very firm in his ideas and he rarely changes his mind, but he loves me and indulges me and I wondered I he would actually brand me again. Oh my God, how wonderful that would be!

I waited. I waited, wondering what he was going to do.

I felt the heat against my legs and tummy. It was very hot, almost uncomfortably so. I wondered if I was in danger of being burned. I wouldn’t mind being branded but I didn’t want third degree burns on my crotch. I imagined my pubic hair burning, the hairs curling in the heat, turning black and crinkling into ash. For some reason that turned me on. (Too bad I didn’t have any pubic hair). I wondered if my pussy would get cooked from the heat. I giggled as I though of JR eating my pussy. I wondered if he’d like it barbequed.

A hand grabbed my breast roughly and a red hot iron touched my nipple!

ORGASM!!!

When I woke up my nipple throbbed with pain. I smelled burnt meat and fainted again.

The next time I regained consciousness my other nipple was throbbing. Had he branded both of my nipples? Incredible!

Had I missed it? Did he brand me while I was out? That wasn’t fair!

I’d have preferred to be branded on the sides of one of my breasts, maybe both, but I didn’t want my nipples to be mutilated.

I muttered in my gag but there was no response. I waited reveling in the pain in my nipples and hoping that JR had filmed me being branded again.

I waited. Very slowly the smell of burnt meat dissipated.

My nipples hurt, and I waited. I felt the warmth from the grill and I waited.

Finally he came back. I heard him moving the barbeque and growled at him through my gag. He ignored me and kept puttering around. Then I felt his hand on my breast.

“Hmmm, I got you pretty good that last one,” he muttered almost to himself. He touched my nipple gingerly and I squeaked in pain.

“Sorry,” he said.

I yelled under the gag.

“Uh, I know you want to look,” he said apologetically. “But I kind of over did it on your left nipple and it looks pretty bad. Its best you don’t see it.”

A deep sexual thrill coursed up from my tummy to my brain.

“I’ll go see if I have any first aid stuff upstairs,” JR said. I heard him walk away.

I waited.

My nipples hurt and I waited.

I wondered how badly he had burned me. Was my nipple destroyed? I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to have the nerves damaged and besides, JR liked my breasts and I didn’t want him to lose interest. Still, I felt very sexy. Oh I hoped he’d set up the video camera. If my nipples had been damaged at least I wanted to be able to watch it happen.

I heard JR return but he didn’t remove my gag or blindfold. I muttered but he ignored me. I felt something cool touch my breast and in instant later it hurt worse. I squealed.

“Sorry,” he said. The cool touch returned followed instantly by more pain. I thrashed in my bonds. The coolness touched my right nipple and it too flashed in pain.

“This one isn’t so bad,” JR said. “I think it will be ok after a while. He touched my nipple again and it really hurt! I was crying in my gag. I was frightened and I hurt and I was turned on.

“One more application,” he warned. “And try not to have any more orgasms for a while.”

I felt the cool touch, then pain, and of course I had an orgasm.

When I stopped writhing on the cross, when I could breathe normally, when the universe stopped spinning around me I listened for JR but the room was silent. I tried to call his name but there was no answer. He must have left.

So I waited.

My nipples hurt and I waited.

He finally came back and removed me from the cross. He didn’t take off my blindfold or gag and he lowered me gently onto the bed. I was so stiff from hanging on the cross that I couldn’t move my arms. JR rolled me onto my stomach and the second my breasts touched the bed I felt sharp piercing pain in my nipples. I screamed in my gag but he just pulled my arms back and tied me into a very, very tight hogtie. Then he pressed his hand against my back and rolled my body side to side. My nipples were crushed under me and they hurt! JR walked out of the room.

I don’t know how long I lay on the bed but the pain in my nipples never went away. The pain kept me from falling asleep and I certainly couldn’t relax enough to have another hallucination.

“Had enough for a while?” JR asked.

“Um hmm.”

He untied me and removed my gag and blindfold, then he took me in his arms and held me close. I squeaked in pain when he crushed my breasts against his chest.

“What have you done to me?” I asked.

“Why, just what you asked,” he said smiling down at me. “You wanted bondage and torture, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but not mutilation.” I tried to push back and look at my breasts but he held me close. He had that old mischievous look in his eyes. I gritted my teeth, pressed my hands against his chest and pushed myself away. I gasped when I saw my nipples. They were burned black!

Wait, the black was something different. I touched them and they felt like plastic knobs. Pain flashed through my nipples as I touched them but I couldn’t see clearly in the low light.

“What is this?” I demanded.

“They are my own invention,” JR said. “They’re plastic pipe caps with needles through them. I just hope they are painful enough to suit you.”

I just glared at him.

“I thought you branded me,” I hissed.

“Nope, just the old frozen socket wrench trick,” he chuckled. “I told you, no more branding.”

“Oh, you are such a bastard,” I said.

“And how many orgasms did you have thinking you’d been burned?” he laughed.

I couldn’t answer. I was trying not to smile. “I didn’t feel you put these things on,” I said.

“No, I did that after you fainted.”

“Bastard, what about that stuff you put on my breasts pretending it was first aid?”

“Rubbing alcohol followed by bengue cream.”

I put my arms around his neck. “You are a bastard, but I love you.”

We went upstairs for a bathroom break followed by a snack. As I walked out I saw that the barbeque grill was a brand new electric model.

“Why didn’t you just use the old charcoal grill?” I asked.

“Can’t burn charcoal inside,” he answered. “It might asphyxiate us.”

“Oh, so you went out and bought an electric one just for this?”

“Um hmm.”

What a wonderful man.

I wore my nipple caps through my break. “When you make love to me I want to wear them and I want you to crush my breasts under your body,” I told him. “If you ever do make love to me again, that is.”

After my break JR put me back on the cross. He’d removed the little caps but my nipples still hurt quite nicely. They reminded me of my torture bra and I wondered if JR intended to make me wear it during the weekend. I hoped so.

JR hadn’t put my gag and blindfold back on and perhaps they were required for my erotic hallucinations, for I didn’t experience any more of them, but I came close.

The room was dimly lit and I couldn’t see anything outside the cell. I looked down at my pussy rope and followed it until it disappeared into the darkness. I wondered what it was connected to. I imagined that there was a little man crouching in the gloom holding the rope. He watched carefully to make sure that it was tight enough to stay in place but not tight enough to let me come, and I just knew that he wouldn’t yank on it the way JR had. I imagined him naked with a large penis that stayed very hard. He was like a little gnome. His legs were short but muscular, his face was ugly and his penis was huge. He was excited looking at me so I thrust my hips invitingly and he crawled out of the darkness. He lumbered awkwardly on all fours, paused at my feet and looked up at me. I wiggled my hips again and he scrambled up my legs. He held onto my waist with big knobby hands, planted his feet on my cross and thrust his cock inside me. He was strong and quick and fucked me wildly. He spurted an enormous amount of cum into me, then jumped down and scurried back into the darkness.

No, wait. It’s not an ugly little gnome, it’s the clerk from the motel.

JR hired him to hold my pussy rope and he’d gotten very aroused looking at me. He waited until JR was upstairs, then walked out of the shadows, tall and handsome. He stood in front of me, naked and proud. I did a quick bump and grind for him. He leaned against my body and slid his cock into me.

It wasn’t a delusion. I didn’t enter into a trance or an hallucination. I consciously thought up that daydream and I knew perfectly well that there was no gnome or college student holding that rope.

But I looked at the spot where the rope disappeared and did a long, sexy bump and grind on my cross. (Just in case someone was watching me). That got to be fun so I kept it up, after all, what else did I have to pass the time.

                               CH 12

I was still gyrating on the cross when JR came back at noon. I didn’t stop when he came through the curtains.

“Having fun?” he asked.

“Oooh, yes,” I answered. “I’m trying to entice those men into screwing me.”

“What men?”

“The ones who are hiding in the shadows watching me. One is tall and handsome and the other is short and ugly.”

“Is that so?” He began untying me. “No kittens?”

“No kittens. But both men have large penises and they are very hard.”

“But they just hide and watch, right?”

“Right. I think they are waiting for the other to make the first move.”

“Which one do you prefer?”

“I want them both.”

He stopped and looked at me in mild astonishment. “Two at once, eh?”

“Yep.”

“There’s more to you than I realized,” he observed.

“You don’t know the half of it,” I said.

“Hmmm. I think we’d better keep you out of this basement.”

“Don’t you dare.”

He finished untying me and took me upstairs. After lunch he tied me to the bed, arms and legs wide open. He took his time and tied me very tightly, then waited until my muscles had stretched and tightened the ropes again. He put my blindfold and gag back on me and left me alone. I hoped my vision (or hallucination) would reappear but it didn’t. My kitties stayed away. The room was too noisy and too bright. I could hear cars passing on the street, telephones ringing next door, kids playing, and some light even leaked in around the edges of the blindfold.

I enjoyed my bondage for about an hour then yelled into my gag. JR came in.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Would you take me down to my dungeon and tie me just like this?” I asked.

“What’s wrong with the bedroom?”

“Its too noisy and there is too much light. I like the mysterious atmosphere down there.”

“Ok.”

He tied me on the bed in the basement. Not to it, but on it. He spread me wide and tied my wrists and ankles to the bars. I just rested atop the bed.

I’ve been tied to beds many times before by this was different. I wondered if he yanked the bed away if I’d hang suspended or sag to the floor. Maybe I’ll ask him to try that.

I wonder how long I’ll have to wait until he comes back?

It was quieter and darker than in the bedroom, and very peaceful. Would my delusions reappear? 

I waited patiently for the pitter patter of little kitten feet, but nothing happened.

What about the motel clerk? Was he watching me from the shadows? Was he naked, was his penis hard? What would he be doing with his hands?

Maybe he wasn’t there. Oh hell, I’d even settle for the gnome.

I waited. Neither showed up. Maybe they really were waiting for the other to make the first move. I imagined them crouching in the gloom eying each other warily. It’s ok boys, I’ll take you both. Beauty and the beast. One of you can screw me and the other can put his cock in my mouth. Then you can trade places.

Still nothing.

A long time passed then something touched my pussy, very lightly. Oh God, here we go again.

What was it? I know I felt something. Ah, there it was again. It was a tiny tap right on my clitoris. A kitten’s paw, or his tongue perhaps? There it is. A pause, then again I felt that teensy tap. It was nice but too light to do me any good. Maybe the kitten will touch me a little harder.

Nope. The same light tap.

I lay still and listened for any other sounds. I decided that if a kitten were touching me I’d have felt his weight on the bed, and surely he would have brushed against my thighs. Another tap.

It seemed to touch me at regular intervals, so I began counting between taps. It was every twenty seconds. I counted several more taps and they were the same. What in the world could it be?

Oh my God! It’s like Chinese water torture!

This must be JR’s doing. In fact it’s just the sort of thing he would do. I’ll bet he’s got some apparatus in the ceiling that drips water on my pussy.

Well, now that I know what it is I’ll just ignore it. JR probably hopes the water will make me come, but I’ll show him.

Tap.

I’ll show him.

Tap.

Uh oh, I might be in trouble here.

Tap.

God that felt good.

Tap.

I’m in serious trouble.

Tap.

I decided to count the taps to take my mind off the slow steady tingle in my pussy. It began very softly but grew with each tap.

Tap.

This could make me have an orgasm, I decided. And it’s going to take a long time to do it.

Tap.

No sudden yank on a rope between my legs, just a miniscule increase in pleasure with every. . .

Tap.  

I tried to resist. I tried to take my mind off it. Think of other things. I tried to remember the dialogue in the last movie I saw with my daughter.

Tap.

It worked for three minutes. I was subconsciously counting the

Taps.

Then I realized that my hips were thrusting upward to meet each drop. Without my willing it I was lifting my pussy at the count of nineteen, then after the drop arrived I dropped back to the bed until the next was due.

I’ve read that water torture never fails to break its victim. Supposedly not even the strongest man can withstand it. I wondered if they’d ever tortured a woman the way JR was torturing me. It was torture too, the anticipation was terrible and each drop was pleasant but frustrating. Would they torture a woman to get information, or just for the fun of it?

Did they ever torture a man with drops hitting his penis? Hmm, a man’s cock would move around and the drops would miss unless it was held in place. How best to do that? Tie it with cords, lock it in a frame? Ah, better yet, have a woman hold it.

I imagined a wicked Asian temptress, exotic, beautiful and cruel, torturing some helpless man. She is the imperial torturer and she serves the evil emperor and I am her assistant. The mistress is dressed in a red silk robe slit up the sides and with a very deep neckline, but I’m naked.

We’re torturing a man to make him reveal the location of the hidden treasure. She entices him to keep him aroused and it’s my job to keep his penis in place so each drop lands squarely on the tip. I hold it a lightly as possible, for I must not apply enough pressure to make him come.

She prowls languidly around and around his rack. Her fingertips caress his body, she rubs her breasts across his skin. Occasionally she slaps my hand aside and strokes his manhood gently, very gently. Her touch is a light as a butterfly. He writhes in an agony of frustration.

I must not allow him to cum until he talks. I must be attentive and if he gets close I have to release my hold on him. Sometimes I must shield his penis from the drops of water by holding my body over his, but woe to me if I allow him to spurt.

If he comes too soon the mistress will string me up by my ankles and whip me, and afterwards we have to start over again with his torture.

Who is the man? Indianapolis Jones? No, not him. Wait, it’s the hotel clerk!

My mistress sent me to lure him into her trap.

I went to the motel dressed like a slut and offered to let him tie me up. We went to the room and he took pictures while I stripped for him, then tied me to the bed and screwed me. While he was busy fucking me she burst into the room with her henchmen and overpowered him. They pulled him off of me (much too soon) and bound him hand and foot. They left me tied to the bed and the mistress casually gave her men permission to take turns with me. She forced the poor clerk to watch as I was fucked by half a dozen men. They screwed my pussy, my ass and my mouth and by the time I’d satisfied them all I was coated with cum.

The mistress disdainfully ordered them to untie me then we smuggled the clerk away and brought him to the dungeons deep beneath the Emperor’s palace. (How the Chinese Emperor’s palace came to be in Denver I’ll never know).

Now his naked body lies bound to a rack. His smooth skin is illuminated by the light of torches. I felt sorry for him and was tempted to make him come, but I feared the punishment I would receive, so I waited until the mistress wasn’t looking and give him a furtive kiss on his penis.

Uh oh, the Emperor was watching, hidden in the gloom beyond the light. The Emperor is cruel and ruthless, and he’s JR. He ordered my mistress to tie me to a rack too. The henchmen appeared and quickly bound me beside the clerk. Water was set to drip onto me. The drops fell in perfect unison, his and mine, and landed on us at the same time. He looked at me and I at him.

The Emperor pronounced me guilty of treason and sentenced me to die by slow torture. The clerk could not bear this, so he offered to tell the location of the treasure if the Emperor promised to release me. The Emperor agreed and the clerk told them where to find the treasure. Then my mistress stripped off her robe revealing her perfect body. She rubbed her breasts across his skin, tickled his body, then knelt beside him and stroked his cock gently. He groaned in passion but didn’t take his eyes off me. She stood over him, straddling his face with her lovely pussy, but he was unmoved and never looked up at her. She bent and took his cock between her red lips and sucked until he came. Despite his resolve his back arched and he cried out in ecstasy. She took her mouth away as his cum shot upward like a fountain.

She aimed his cock so that his semen arched high in the torchlight. The drops turned into shimmering pearls that fell back to land on my clitoris.

My orgasm happened. It didn’t explode in my tummy, there were no celestial fireworks, or earthquakes, just a slow steady swelling of pressure that grew and grew and grew until I felt the most delicious sweet thrill in my pussy. It was like a beautiful flower steadily opening into a glorious bloom.

I lay wrapped in a heavenly cloud of delight. I was vaguely aware that the clerk was being led away by my mistress. His hands are bound behind his back and she pulls him by his penis. It’s very large and gets larger with each step. What was she going to do to him? He glances back at me as they disappear through the doorway.

The henchmen took away the torches leaving me in darkness and I heard the Emperor tell them to leave me to endure the water torture for all eternity. Then the dungeon door closed with a deep boom and there was silence.

Another drop landed on my pussy.

Tap.

                               CH 13

When JR released me hours later I wasn’t quite a babbling idiot, but I was close. He carried me upstairs and plunked me into a hot bubble bath. Then he vanished. I rubbed my pussy and even under water it felt oily.

I soaked in the tub for a long time. It was getting dark when JR came back and toweled me dry.

“What was dripping on me?” I asked.

“Baby oil,” He replied. “Three gallons.”

“You dripped three gallons on me?”

“No, that’s how much the reservoir holds. You only used about a quart.”

“Oh, well in that case we shouldn’t let it go to waste.”

He chuckled.

“I thought you said I couldn’t have sex until the forty eight hours was up.”

“Well, I don’t consider a few drops of oil actually having sex,” he said. “I meant that I won’t have sex with you.”

What ever.

“I was wondering,” I said as he led me down the basement stairs. “Will the bars of the cell hold my weight?”

“Of course.”

“Would you tie me to them just like before, only higher so I’m not lying on the bed?’

“Ok.”

He took the bed out of the cell and bought in an ancient steamer trunk. He upended it and lifted me onto it so that I lay across it on my back. I had to balance myself while he tied my wrist and ankle ropes to the bars. Then he tightened them until I felt as taut as a violin. He put his arm under my back, raised my body off the trunk and slid it away. He lowered me until the ropes took my weight. The ropes tightened painfully, erotically and I floated in the air three feet off the floor.

I’ve been hung by my wrists and by my ankles but I’d never felt so helpless and sexy as I did then. And my pussy was at just the right height for him to fuck me. I suggested that he might do that but he declined.

He reminded me that I had almost fourteen hours to go before I was allowed to have sex. He turned on the drip and made sure it was hitting the right spot. He watched my pussy for several minutes, then left.

How could he look so closely at my pussy and not want to touch it? (I swear the man isn’t human at times.)

JR left the lights on and my blindfold off. I could see the drips sparkle in the light as they fell. The pressure began to build in my pussy. I watched the drops until my neck grew tired so I let my head sag and ended up staring at the bars of my cell upside down. I felt a mild strain in my neck but it was bearable. Besides, I was waiting for the clerk to escape the clutches of the torture mistress and come back and rescue me. (Or at least fuck me).

The clerk didn’t show up, neither did the gnome, but JR did.

He walked in and carefully spread a beach towel on the floor.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Making sure we don’t fall on this slippery floor,” he answered. He began rubbing my legs with another towel.

“No, I mean why are you here?” I asked. “I want to stay longer.”

“You’ve got thirteen hours left besides, dinner’s ready.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Well, you’re going to eat anyway.” He rubbed the oil off my thighs and my tummy. The towel felt very good on my skin but he wouldn’t touch my pussy.

“You really are a bastard,” I said conversationally.

He laughed and gave my pussy a single solitary, very unsatisfying pat. Then he untied me.

He tied me to a kitchen chair and fed me. The food was good and I was suddenly very hungry. I asked for seconds. While we ate I told him about my Chinese fantasy (omitting the identity of the motel clerk). JR was impressed that I’d had another orgasm.

After dinner he tied me spread between the bars except this time I was face down. He put my nipple clamps back on and added weights on long cords. He put my blindfold back, gave me a pat on my bottom and left.

The weights felt sexy on my nipples. I couldn’t swing the way I had with the board but I could rock my shoulders to get the weights swinging. I hoped they looked as erotic as they felt, then perhaps the clerk and the gnome would come out of the shadows and fuck my brains out.

No such luck.

Hmmm, if they weren’t interested maybe the kittens would come back. The problem was, how could they get to me? Could they climb up the bars then walk out along my arms and legs? Oooh, that would be nice. I could almost feel their little claws on my skin. But then how would they be able to get to my breasts?

I have a better idea; they could climb up the cords to my nipples. Were the cords long enough? Never mind, even if they didn’t reach the floor the kitties could jump up and catch hold, then scramble up.

I couldn’t wait to feel their weight tugging my nipples. Oh dear, what if the dog comes back and scares them away?

But maybe I could get the dog to play tug of war with the cords. I’d wiggle around and make the cords jiggle enticingly. He’d sniff them, then take one in his teeth. I’d rock my shoulders and he’d pull in response. We’d play tug of war again.

But I need two dogs, one for each breast. Be a good doggie and go fetch a friend. Ah here they are. Uh oh, there are a dozen dogs and they all want to tug on the cords. Now they’re pushing and fighting and several dogs are pulling at once.

Ow, the pain is terrific and I’m having an orgasm!

While the dogs are busy the kittens run out onto my body. They sit in a row on my back and look down at the chaos below. The dogs jerk my body so much that the kittens have to dig in with their claws to keep from falling.

The dogs don’t stop. They growl and tug and yank and go in different directions and pull my breasts wide apart and scrabble in circles and get the cords tangled together and I’m shrieking with orgasm after orgasm!

JR fetched me at ten o’clock. He untied me and noticed the glassy eyed happy expression on my face.

“Don’t tell me you had another orgasm,” he said.

I nodded.

“The kittens again?”

“No, dogs. A whole pack of them.”

“I don’t want to hear that one,” he said.

“Oh yes you do,” I giggled. “But you’ll have to wait until tomorrow. I’m too tired tonight.”

He took me to the bedroom, tied me in a hogtie, and turned out the lights.

I slept until the next morning and didn’t wake up when JR untied me during the night.

When I awoke it was seven-thirty and I was alone.

I looked out the window and saw JR reading the paper on the back patio. I went to the bathroom, combed my hair, then made up the bed. I tied ropes to the headboard and put slipknots in them, then I tied more ropes to my ankles and lay on the bed. I raised my feet over my head and tossed my ankle ropes over the headboard. I tied them as tight as I could, pulling my legs as far open as I could. Then I slid my hands through the loops on the other ropes and tugged the knots tight. After that I waited.

I heard JR puttering around in the kitchen. Finally he peeked in the bedroom door.

“Ah, awake I see.”

“Get over here,” I said.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“GET   OVER    HERE!”

He grinned and slipped out of his robe. His cock was very big and it was inside me very quickly, and everything was right and perfect in the universe.

JR made love to me three times within two hours that morning. Each time he screwed me I told him about the fantasies I’d experienced. (Everything except the identity of the motel clerk).

I told him about the Chinese torture chamber.

I related the hallucination about the dairy farm. That one drove him wild. He made me get on the bed on hands and knees and he pretended to milk my breasts while I talked. Then he knelt behind me and screwed me doggy style (or perhaps like a bull with a cow). Finally he had me lie flat and he titty fucked me. Very nice.

Afterwards I sat on the bed and told him how the gnome had climbed my legs to get to my pussy, and how the kittens had done the same thing.

I told him about dogs giving me orgasms by playing tug of war with my ropes. By the time I’d recounted all my hallucinations he was quite hard again. I was able to show my appreciation for the fake branding by screwing him with every muscle in my body.

After the first time he called his secretary and told her he wouldn’t be in until lunch. After the third time he fell asleep for half an hour. While he slept I ate my breakfast and took a shower, but he was waiting for me. As soon as I walked out of the bath room he grabbed me and tied me back to the bed. He didn’t take the time to get creative, he just tied me in a no nonsense, legs up and open, easy accessible position that permitted him full access to my pussy. And that was just fine with me.

This time he took his time and screwed me long and slowly and sweetly and we had the most wonderful simultaneous orgasms. By then it was noon so he called the office and told them he wasn’t coming in that day. (I had anticipated being too tired and sore to got to work, so I’d taken a couple of days vacation from my job).

He lay back and relaxed, a thoughtful expression was on his face.

“What are you cooking up now?” I asked.

“Trying to figure out how to design a milking machine for you,” he said.

My nipples went hard and my pussy was damp instantly. I imagined myself in the basement, locked into a frame while a milker throbbed at my nipples.

“Do they make milking machines for human females” I asked.

“I doubt it,” he answered. “I’d bet the closest thing would be those little suction cups for nursing mothers.”

“No assembly line milkers like at a dairy?”

“Probably not, but perhaps I can design something.”

We made love a fifth time that day, and by late afternoon we were worn out. JR had collapsed on the bed and was snoring while I cleaned up and got dressed. I tidied up the kitchen before I left and noticed something pink and fuzzy on top of the fridge. It was a glove, a cheap nylon glove covered with fake fur and had small spikes protruding through the thumb and forefinger. The face of a kitten had been drawn on the back of the glove. I stared at the thing wondering what it could possibly be used for when I heard JR chuckle. He was leaning on the doorjamb in his bath robe.

“What is this?” I asked.

He took the glove from me and slipped it on his hand. “This is Little Felix,” he said. “But you’ve met before.”

“Oh, no. You didn’t. . .” I gasped.

“I sure did,” he laughed. “Littler Felix deserves your thanks for sending you into one of the wildest orgasms I’ve ever witnessed.” He closed his thumb and finger and the spikes looked like little teeth.

I glared at him.

“You seemed to enjoy it when he was nibbling your breast,” JR said. “But when he bit your nipple I thought you were going to shake the basement apart.”

“Oh you bastard.”

He laughed and pulled me into his arms. I tried not to smile but couldn’t resist a shriek when ‘Little Felix’ bit me on the bottom. I put my arms around JR’s neck and kissed him long and lovingly. Little Felix continued to bite me through my dress.

JR leaned away and put the glove over my breast. “What do you say?” he asked. “Can Felix chew on your nipple?”

I pushed my breast forward. “I’d love to let him,” I said. “But I’ve got to go home. My granddaughter is coming to spend the night.”

“Ok, Felix understands,” JR said. Felix gave me a light little nip on my nipple.

I kissed JR again and walked toward the door. I paused and looked back.

“What are his teeth made of?”

“Thumb tacks.”

“The next time we do this do you think I could wear my torture bra?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“And the next time, do you think you might keep me tied up for three days?”

He shook his head in exasperation, then shrugged in surrender. “Why not?”

I was very happy as I drove home. JR is such a wonderful man and he goes out of his way to please me. Take the kitten glove for example.

Did he just happen to have a furry glove in the house? Thumbtacks I could see, but how many men keep pink fuzzy gloves lying around? He must have gone out and bought the glove after I told him about my fantasy of the kittens. And what about the branding scenario? He went out and bought an electric barbeque just to set the scene for my branding fantasy. What a wonderful man he is.

My pussy throbbed all the way home.

My son dropped off my four year old granddaughter a few minutes after I arrived, and I shifted gears into being a grandma. We made ice cream, read books, watched a movie then went to sleep. I dreamt about kittens all night long.

The motel clerk isn’t the only man in my life with a camera. A couple of weeks after my lovely weekend in bondage JR presented me with a dvd holding a compilation of photos and film of my ordeal.

I hadn’t known, but he had set up cameras outside my cell and had taken lots of pictures of me in my bondage. He used low light cameras and got some surprisingly erotic pictures. I wouldn’t have thought that there would be much variety since I rarely was able to move in my bondage, but there was. In fact the footage of me swinging under the plank was terrific, especially the parts where I was trying to make the board swing. My face wasn’t visible since I was looking downward, but the movements of my body were subtle yet exciting. And I get turned on watching the way my body reacted to the bite of ‘Little Felix’. The glove is barely visible in the frame but when the thumbtacks caught my nipple my body jerked so violently that the board bounced and twisted for several minutes.

My face was in camera when I had my orgasms under the dripping baby oil and those pictures are fantastic, but my gyrations on the cross while I tried to entice the gnome and the clerk were pretty good too. They are funny, considering that I was dancing for an imaginary audience, but I must admit that even at my age I seem to have some pretty good moves.

But the very best was the scene where I thought I was branded. When JR’s hand appeared on camera and the cold metal touched my body I went into such violent convulsions that I made the bars of the cell shake, and when I fainted, when my body sagged lifelessly and my head dropped onto my chest, for some reason that is terrifically erotic.  

I wonder if the clerk would like to have a copy.

Author’s note:

After writing about my friend’s experiences a few years ago I convinced her to keep a diary. Since then I’ve read the diary and listened to her accounts of her love affair with JR and her flirtations with the motel clerk, and I am envious.

I’ve also watched her in action at the motel.

I dropped by her house on a Saturday morning and watched her get ready for her rendezvous with JR. We giggled as she picked through her naughty clothes until she decided on a very risqué outfit. I got in the mood to play so she loaned me a mini skirt, a very tight tee shirt, fishnet stockings and heels. I put them on with nothing underneath.

We drove in separate cars to a diner near the motel and had breakfast, and we attracted a lot of attention, even in that part of town. Then I drove to the motel and parked across the street. I brought my camera with a telephoto lens and when she arrived I took pictures of the clerk as he took pictures of her, and pictures of him patting her on her bottom.

I also got photos of a man talking to her outside her room as she waited for JR. She put on her hooker act and flirted outrageously until JR arrived and sent the man on his way. The picture of JR glaring at the fellow is priceless.

Mary Elizabeth Moore, aka Shackleford Bond.

My Custom Made Leather Accessories

                                       Ch 14

       JR borrowed one of my bras but wouldn’t tell me why he wanted it. A month later he invited me to his house and told me that I was to be tied up and blindfolded for a special reason, but wouldn’t tell me what the reason was. 

When I arrived early on a Saturday morning he greeted me with a long, incredible kiss, then stripped me naked in the living room. He blindfolded me, strapped my wrists together and played with my pussy until I was ready to melt. Then he led me down stairs to the basement. He raised my arms above my head and secured them to something in the ceiling, then spread my legs and strapped my ankles apart. I was already trembling with excitement and waited eagerly for his touch. When nothing happened I did a little wiggle and jiggle for him, then a naughty bump and grind. When that got no results I did a rather raunchy bump and wiggle.

“Not today,” JR said. “I’ve got other things on my mind.”

“What could possibly be more important than this?” I asked, slamming my hips from side to side.

“I’m working on a project for you,” he answered. “And it’s liable to take all day, so just calm down and be patient.”

“Calm down, after what you just did to me?” I demanded. “You’ve got to be kidding.” I twisted my shoulders back and forth to get my breasts swinging.

“Stand still,” he commanded. “I’ve got work to do.”

“Go ahead,” I said. “I’ll just do my thing while you work.”

“I need you to hold still,” he repeated.

“All right.” I stopped moving.

I felt his hands touching my breasts and I cooed happily. JR ignored me and continued to squeeze me. I felt his hands move off my breasts, onto my ribs, into my armpits and across my back. It felt like a medical examination.

I waited patiently and a few minutes later I felt something slide over my breast. It was slippery and cool and JR tried to work it onto me, but had trouble. He lifted my breast with one hand and tried to fit the thing with the other. Well, my breasts are big and soft and floppy and he wasn’t having much luck, however, the man is very determined. He kept at it.

Now I enjoyed whatever he was doing and giggled from time to time. His hands disappeared and I heard him sigh faintly.

“What is that thing?” I asked.

“It’s a surprise,” he answered. “That’s why you’re blindfolded.”

“All right.”

He tried to get the thing on me again, and despite a lot of squeezing and fumbling, he was unsuccessful. I just waited patiently and enjoyed the feel of his hands. Eventually they disappeared. I heard him puttering around, then felt him releasing the tension on my wrist straps.

His hand pressed my tummy. “Bend forward,” he commanded.

“Yes, my master,” I replied and bent. He pulled my arm up and behind me, then pulled the strap forward and tightened it. He did the same with the other arm and I was held immobile.

“Ah yes,” he said. “Much better.”

I felt his hands on my breast again, and this time what ever he was putting on me went right in place. It felt like a bra cup.

“How many times have you watched me put my brassiere on?” I asked.

“I generally pay more attention when you’re taking it off,” he said.

“Nevertheless, I always bend over when I put one on,” I said. “You should know that by now.”

“Um hmm.”

“I mean, haven’t you ever watched any other big breasted woman get dressed?” I persisted teasingly. “You must have seen thousands in your day. We all have to bend over, settle ourselves in place, then straighten up. And for those of us who are particularly endowed with especially large and shapely breasts, ,  umph.”

He stuffed a gag in my mouth.

JR worked on what ever it was for hours, and I felt the odd squeeze and pinch here and there, separated by long periods when nothing happened. I concluded that the thing was some form of brassiere but couldn’t figure what it was for. He would fiddle around, then remove the thing and I’d hear him at the workbench. Then he would return, slide the device onto my breast and work some more.

My back got slightly stiff, and my shoulders ached, but I was used to that and I liked the pain since I was by then probably the worst masochist in the state of Colorado. I just wished JR would take a break and screw me, or something.

JR did take a break midmorning. He removed my gag and gave me a drink.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

“Can I straighten up for a while?” I asked.

“Sure.”

He loosened my wrists and allowed my arms to drop. My ankles were still secured and I swayed on my feet and nearly toppled over. JR caught me and held me until I was steady. He removed the straps from my ankles and led me into the cell. I started to take the blindfold off but he told me to leave it on.

“Yes master,” I said. I found the cot with my knees and sat down. I heard him pull the curtains.

“You can remove the blindfold now,” he said.

“Why don’t I leave it on, and you strap me to the bed,” I suggested. “With my legs apart, like this.” I opened my knees.

“Uh huh, then what?”

“Then you take off your clothes and fuck me senseless,” I said.

“Look, I’m very busy and don’t have time.”

I opened my legs a little wider. I heard him inhale deeply.

I opened my knees as far apart as they would go.

“Oh, all right. If you insist.”

I giggled happily as he tied my legs open, then strapped my wrists to the corners of the bed. A moment later I felt his weight on the cot, then his body was on mine and his cock was inside me and I was the happiest woman on earth.

JR made wonderful love to me that morning, and he spent a lot of time manhandling my breasts. He didn’t neglect his duties at my pussy but he did seem preoccupied with my boobs, which was ok with me. He screwed me into an absolutely wonderful, happy orgasm, then left me dozing in a delightful pink cloud while he went back to work.

I lay in my bonds listening to him tinker and wondered if he had bothered to get dressed. I got turned on imagining him working naked, but I hoped he was careful and didn’t get his penis caught on anything sharp. 

After lunch JR strapped my arms up and behind me again and worked on his mystery bra all afternoon. When he finished he Slid his cock into me from behind. I was bent over and actually in a faint doze, but I woke up fast when his manhood went into my rectum. I squeaked in surprise, then gave way to a long delighted moan, which seemed to inspire JR to no end. He began slamming into me so fast and hard that we must have shaken the entire house. 

JR had screwed me from behind many times in the past, but that was the first time I’d ever had an orgasm from that particular fashion.

After he came I heard him collapse onto the cot and go to sleep. I had to wait bent over for a long time while he snored away.

(In case I’ve never mentioned it, bondage teaches you patience.)

The following week I discovered what JR had made for me.

CH 15

               

I went to his house and once again was greeted with one of his long, wonderful kisses, then I was undressed, handcuffed and led to the basement.

I saw a special bondage frame that looked like a whipping horse.

It was very technical looking, made of steel tubing and fitted here and there with little motors, hydraulic hoses and air tubes. It had a long narrow padded bench that could be raised and lowered, tilted up or down, and could rock from side to time. My pussy became warm and damp the instant I saw it.

“When can I get on?” I asked.

“Right now,” JR replied. “Straddle the bench please.”

I obeyed and he placed his hand on the back of my neck. He pressed my head forward between two upright bars, then lowered a U shaped plate that fit over my neck. It clicked firmly into place. He guided my right hand into a hole and pressed a button. I felt the sides of the hole tighten around my wrist and he did the same thing with my left hand. A moment later I heard a motor whine and my head clamp lowered itself until I was bent at the waist. So far it was just like a pillory. I felt very vulnerable and very sexy.

I felt JR touch my breasts and felt them slip into the mystery bra. It was massive and solid and felt heavy. Then I felt him buckling straps over my back and shoulders.

“How is this?” JR asked. “Is it comfortable?”

I shook my body and felt the heavy cups sway from side to side. I really liked the sensation.

“I like it,” I told him. “What is it made of?”

“Why?”

“The cups feel like they would make noise if I banged them together.” I shook my torso to get them swinging. “They’re like church bells.”

“No, they aren’t made of bronze,” he chuckled. “Just rubber and leather with some plastic and metal.”

“They’re heavy.”

“Are they too heavy?” he asked.

“Nope, I’m fine.”

“Good.”

I heard another motor and felt the bench rise up until it touched my body. I felt the padding against my chest and tummy. JR raised it in small amounts until it supported my weight.

I felt JR’s hand on my ankle. “Relax your knee and let me lift your leg.”  I did and heard a firm click. JR pressed my lower leg down and it rested on a padded shelf. He buckled straps over my ankle and just below my knee. Then he repeated the process for my other leg.

I felt him buckle more straps across my back and when he finished I was completely immobilized. I tested the straps but could barely wiggle.

“Hmm, I like this a lot,” I purred.

“Yes,” he replied absently. “It just might work out correctly.”

“Is my pussy at the right height for fucking?” I asked.

“If not, I can adjust it.”

“What are you waiting for?”

“This isn’t for fucking,” he said.

“What?”

“Oh, I meant for right now,” he chuckled. “I’ll do that a little later.”

“You’d better,” I growled. “What’s going to happen now?”

“Patience slave girl,” he said, slapping my bottom. “We’re going to be here for quite a while.”

“Ok, but do that again.”

“Patience, I said.”

I heard another motor’s whine and felt myself sliding backwards. The bench pulled until my arms were straight beside my head. That put a mild strain on my shoulders but it was bearable.

Then I felt JR fiddling around with the bra.

“All set?” he asked.

“Set for what?” I asked.

“This.” I heard a click.

Nothing happened for a moment, then I felt the bra cups grow cold.

“Ugh, what in the world?”

“Shh, just relax and enjoy,” he said.

“I don’t enjoy having my breasts frozen,” I replied.

He sighed patiently, then put a very large ball gag in my mouth. I glared up at him but he ignored me and stepped out of sight. (I couldn’t see what was happening behind me). My breasts got colder.

After a moment I felt the cold fade and the bra became warm. Much better, that is, until it got hot!

“Ummph.” I complained.

“Oh shush,” he said. “You didn’t complain when I branded you. What’s a little heat?”

Ok, he was right. I kept quiet and concentrated on the heat. The bra got hotter and I began to sweat, but I could still take it. I wondered if he was planning to cook me.

I endured until I simply couldn’t take any more. I began to squirm and whimper, and JR kept me in that pain for a just a degree more than I thought I could stand, then the heat faded very quickly. I sighed in relief.

The bra cooled until it grew cold again.

“Oh my God. This could be heavenly or hellish,” I thought. I felt my nipples harden, then something squeezed them.

I squeaked in astonishment, and heard JR chuckle.

“Oh, this thing does more than just get hot and cold,” I thought. “What else does it do?”

The squeeze tightened until it became painful, wonderfully, erotically, painful. I was moaning softly, and the moans grew as the pressure increased. The pressure grew, then slacked off. It was a relief but I groaned in disappointment. Then it started again.

JR treated me to half an hour of the squeezing sensation, then moved on to another feature.

I felt a faint buzzing all around my breasts. At first it was so light and delicate that I had to concentrate to feel it. I thought that it was some sort of vibrator, but the buzzing grew until it became very noticeable, and I realized that it was electricity.

“God, God, God!” I hoped JR knew enough not to electrocute me. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him, I just hoped that the bra wouldn’t short circuit or something.

The buzzing got stronger and louder until I was writhing in pain. Delicious pain.

“Is it too much?” JR asked.

I shook my head. 

“Ok.”

I felt the electricity become more intense until I felt it in my teeth. JR was watching closely, and shut it off when I began to sob.

He knelt and peered into my eyes. I blinked at my tears, then nodded to him. “Do it again,” I tried to say around the gag.

“Don’t worry.”

The buzzing resumed but at a low level, and the bra went cold. Now that was the weirdest sensation! Cold and electricity at the same time. I imagined frost on the outside of the bra while my breasts glowed red inside it.

I couldn’t decide if I liked the feeling or not.

Then the bra went hot almost instantly and I was squeaking with delight. Hot and electric: very sexy! I just hoped that my boobs wouldn’t cook away to nothing.

I endured the alternating hot and cold with a slow, steady increase in the electrical buzzing for a very long time. JR peered over my shoulder and chuckled when he saw the sweat on my forehead.

“Had enough?” he asked. “Ready for the next test?”

“Good Lord,” I thought. “What else could it possibly do?”

The next test was delightful. The bra simply squeezed my breasts.  

Actually it didn’t simply squeeze them, it did it in several variations.

I felt the bra tighten at the base of my breasts. It tightened, and tightened, and I felt my breasts swell like balloons. The pressure held for a long time and the bra held me very firmly. Then I felt it tighten at a different spot, below the first. I felt my breasts compress again. It wasn’t terribly painful but I can’t say that it felt erotic; it was just weird.

After a wait a third section of the bra tightened a little lower down, and it felt like my breasts were being elongated.

Finally I felt the ring around my nipples tighten and a moment later the fourth and lowest sections squeezed me. I felt my breasts pushing against the point of the bra but there was no place for them to go. I knew that my breasts were filling the bra cups to capacity, and the squeezing action was increasing the pressure.

I tried to analyze the feelings in my beasts. They were painful, and starting to get mildly erotic, but the sensation was extremely bizarre. I’d never felt anything like it and I wondered what else the bra could do to me. Then I realized.

It was trying to milk me.

The pressure released and I felt my breasts expanding back to their normal shape. The easing of the pressure felt very nice. But suddenly it returned.

The top ring compressed, then the second one and the third followed. It happened quickly and a few seconds later it started again. I laughed because it felt just like giant hands were squeezing me and sliding toward my nipples. I wondered if that was the sensation a cow got when she was milked.

The milker (as I now thought of the bra) settled into a steady rhythm and I really began to enjoy it, I purred in my gag and wriggled as much as my bonds would allow.

“Doing ok?” JR asked.

“Um hmm.”

“Good, let’s go a little faster.”

The milking sensation sped up. I giggled again, then froze as a new sensation appeared at my nipples. I tried to decide what it was until I realized that what I was feeling was suction!

And the suction was timed with the other rings. I felt them tighten along my boobs then end with a few seconds of what felt like a small mouth tugging at my nipple. I squealed in delight and heard JR chuckle.

“It sounds like you are enjoying this,” he said.

“Um HMMM!”

“Good, in that case I’ll be back in a while.” I heard him walk away.

The milker went about its duties.

I lay still and reveled in the delicious sensations that were taking place in my breasts. All my life I’d been self-conscious about my large chest. It had started when I developed early and people began staring. It hadn’t helped matters to find out that my breasts were very insensitive. Nothing my husband could do gave me any pleasure, and I simply allowed him to play with them as a courtesy. I never experienced any delight with them until I met JR and he sensitized them with a whip.

Now I was feeling a wonderful growing thrill in my nipples that was matched by a deep tingling in my pussy. I began to wonder if I might actually have an orgasm through my breasts.

As much as I liked what the milker was doing to me, a part of my mind was troubled. I didn’t feel that it was proper to have sex with a machine. I thought that it ought to be human hands squeezing me, so I slipped into a daydream.

I imagined that I was being milked by a giant.

The giant looked like the one in Jack and The Beanstalk, and I was his dairy cow.

He milked me very day to drink my milk and make cheese and butter. He kept me in a stall and every morning and every night he led me out on my hands and knees, placed a pail beneath my chest, then squatted beside me and milked my breasts. He squeezed them until streams of milk filled the bucket.

My giant was an idiot. He had a vacant expression and he never talked except to mumble to himself, but he laughed like a child when he grasped my breasts.

His cock rose as he milked me. It grew until it popped the buttons on his codpiece and burst forth. The giant looked at himself stupidly, then laughed in delight. He always seemed to be surprised when his cock became hard, and when the milking was done he stood behind me and fucked me with that huge penis.

The giant and I didn’t have much of a relationship. He was interested in my breasts and all I wanted his cock, other than that we didn’t communicate very much. And that was ok.

After he filled my vagina with cum, he picked up the pail and walked away humming contentedly. I relaxed and stored up more milk as I waited for my next milking.

I dozed lightly as the milker massaged my breasts. I was dreaming of my giant when he changed into the motel clerk. Now I was in a cage behind the motel and he milked me several times a day. When new guests checked in the clerk presented them with a complimentary gallon of my milk, and they got a fresh gallon every day for breakfast. When he wasn’t waiting on customers he fucked me.

I was dreaming contentedly and I didn’t hear JR enter.

I realized that the milker had stopped. I huffed in disappointment, but relaxed when the sensations resumed, only this time it was different. The thing alternated compressing my breasts one at a time. Right, then left. I puzzled over that for a moment, then giggled when I realized that it was more realistic. After all, when a farmer milked his cows he alternated with his hands. I relaxed and enjoyed.

JR left me alone. He came back several hours later.

“Are you ready for a break?” he asked, removing my gag and turning off the milker. My breasts felt incredibly odd. Even with the machine stopped they continued to pulse, or at least, they seemed to.

“Nope.”

“Do your breasts hurt?”

“No, they are fine.”

“How do they feel?”

I thought for a moment. “They feel heavy,” I replied. “And they’re still throbbing.”

“Throbbing nicely?”

“Oh yes. I like the sensation.”

“Do you want me to take the bra off?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Would you like me to take it to the next level?” he asked.

“The next level? Does it do more?”

“Yes, I can program the computer for a few more sensations, but these would be torture, not the pleasure that you’ve already endured.”

“What are you waiting for? Get it going.”

“Ok, but I’ll leave your gag out, in case you want to ask me to turn it off.”

“Do you think I’ll have to?” I asked. “Will it be that horrible?”

“Who knows?” he shrugged. “You’re the first woman on earth to wear this thing.”

“Fire it up.”

I felt the bra tighten, then a faint itching occurred. I wondered how he could make that happen until the itching turned to pain. It felt as if tiny teeth were penetrating my skin and I was reminded of my fantasy with the kittens, only they weren’t just biting my nipples. This was all over my breasts.

The pain increased until I was squirming, then it eased and suddenly my breasts were cold. An instant latter I experienced a terrific buzzing that hurt like the devil, and I realized that I was getting jolted with electricity again. I instinctively tried to hurl myself away from the buzzing but my bonds held me. I gritted my teeth and tried not to cry out, but suddenly the electricity surged for a split second, then stopped. I wasn’t aware that the buzzing was gone, I was too busy screaming my way through an incredible orgasm.

When my ears stopped ringing I was faintly aware that JR was kneeling beside me.

“Shall I stop?” he asked.

“What else does this thing do?” I whispered.

“Its got a few more tricks,” he answered. “But we can wait until some other time.”

“Now.”

“You want more?”

“More, now.”

“All right.”

I felt the bra warm up, but not too hot for comfort, then there was a faint suction on my nipples, very nice. It felt sweet and delicate. The suction increased and was joined by another faint itching sensation. The itch increased until it became mildly painful, then dropped off for a moment. The suction returned and the itch increased, then stopped again. Soon the bra was doing this at a regular pace, pulling, itching, then a short pause. It was very nice and I giggled when a tiny vibration was added. I relaxed and enjoyed.

After a while the sucking sensation eased away and my breasts went cold again. Then the milker squeezed them tight, very tight. The pressure held and began to get very painful, when suddenly it and I felt a terrific gust of air around my breasts. The bra cups seemed to pop open for a second, then close violently, like a door slamming shut. It was like someone had jumped on my boobs with heavy boots. I screeched in pain and surprise, but the blast of air was repeated, and when the cups contracted I felt a powerful suction on my nipples. It felt like they were being pulled into pipes. The suction held and I got the impression that my body would be sucked into two halves and carried away somewhere. Without warning the blasts of air blew the bra off me again.

Now it was hot, and it got hotter while the nipple cups dragged me through a mysterious paradise. The heat increased until I was sweating, then another explosive pulse of air and when the bra contracted again it was cold.

The electricity returned but when it finally died away I realized that the hundreds of teeth were imbedded in my skin once again.

Everything stopped and I gasped for breath. I was dizzy and the room seemed to be filled with whirling stars. I tried to relax for a moment, but something was out of place. I couldn’t quite figure it out until I suddenly felt the milking bra shift. I wondered what was happening until I realized that the frame was tilting and my head was rising up.

The machine lifted me until the weight of the bra pressed against my ribs. My breasts felt heavier than they’ve ever felt in my life. The machine paused, then tilted down. Uh oh.

My head lowered until my bottom was high. The bra shifted the other way and I felt it bump against the frame at my shoulders. I squeaked in fear as the frame kept going until I was practically standing on my head. My bonds kept me from falling and only the framework prevented the bra from hitting my face. 

The device rocked back slowly until I was upright, then pitched forward again. It was moving faster and the rocking became continuous. And it wasn’t just a rocking motion, it changed into a sort of swoop forward, then it climbed upward. I felt like I was riding a rocking horse on a boat sailing over tall waves. The heavy bra pulled my breasts forward and back, and during the height of each swoop they seemed to pause weightlessly for a second.

The motion made my pussy tingle and I felt an orgasm rising steadily. 

The orgasm happened gently. It didn’t explode wildly, or shake the entire universe, it just swelled steadily and seemed to press me upward and outward until sweet, delicious happiness filled my tummy.

When I awoke JR was thrusting into me from behind like a wild man. He slammed my bottom so forcefully that the frame and I were moved across the floor a few inches each time. I wondered what he would do when we hit the wall. Fortunately he came before that happened, and I sighed with pride and delight when I felt him flood my body with his warm juice. I lowered my head and went to sleep.

I roused later and tried to stretch. I groaned slightly.

“How are you feeling?” JR asked. I couldn’t see him.

“Are you here?” I asked.

“Yes, I just got out of the shower,” he answered. He appeared in my line of view, wearing a bathrobe. “Are you ready to be released?”

“I suppose so,” I said. “Unless this demonic device has any more hidden capabilities.”

“There is only one thing I didn’t do to you,” he said. “But if you’re tired we can do it some other time.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“A secret, but it shouldn’t be painful.”

“Oh, what the heck,” I said. “Let’s do it.”

“Ok, remember your remark about church bells?”

“Um hmm.”

“Let’s see if we can make them ring.”

The frame tilted to the right, paused, then rotated to the left. I felt my weight shift, but more interestingly, I felt my breasts rock heavily. The machine settled into a steady rhythm and my breasts swung side to side, like bells.

“Hmm, nice,” I said.

“Have fun,” JR said, and walked out of the room.

He left me rocking for about half an hour, and by the time he returned it felt as if my breasts were being stretched out of shape. The sensation was sexy, but I think I was burnt out for the day. I didn’t come any where near to having any more orgasms. I even fell asleep again.

CH 16

I awoke in JR’s bed. My breasts throbbed and I peeled back the covers to look at them. I gasped at what I saw.

They were literally black and blue.

I staggered into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. My face looked haggard, there were huge circles under my eyes and my hair was a mess, but worst of all; my breasts were two enormous bruises. They hurt at the slightest touch and felt so tight and swollen that I expected to see cracks in my skin. I wet a cloth and wiped them with warm soapy water, but even that light touch was agony. I fumbled through the medicine cabinet and found a bottle of aspirin. I took four.

I was rubbing skin cream into my breasts when JR came in. He took me in his arms but I squeaked in pain the instant my breasts touched his chest. He kissed my cheek tenderly and looked sadly at my poor damaged breasts.

“Well, I’ll never put that thing on you again,” he said. “I’ll destroy it this very day.”

“No you won’t, and yes you will,” I said.

“What?”

“No you won’t destroy it, and yes you will put it on me again,” I said. “But we might have to wait a few weeks.”

JR picked me up and carried me to the bed, then he gently rubbed more lotion on my breasts. I lay back, closed my eyes and sighed happily. After about an hour JR decided that my breasts had received enough skin cream and turned his attention to other areas. He rubbed lotion into my pussy.

I was lazing on the bed in a half doze and his hand between my legs felt utterly wonderful. I opened up wider and eventually my lazy contentment changed to a hot urgency. It was impossible for me to keep still and soon I was writhing in delight.

“Get on top of me,” I whispered.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he told me.

“Will you please get on top of me,” I begged.

JR climbed over my body and lowered his cock inside me. It was delightful. He began screwing me, slowly and cautiously, and held his chest high above my body.

“You can lay on top of me,” I told him.

He looked at my purple breasts and shook his head. “I’ve caused you enough pain already.”

“Oh no you haven’t.” I raised my hands and shoved his arms out from under him. He crashed onto me, crushing my breasts. I screamed as a terrific orgasm surged from my breasts.

Not my pussy, not my clitoris, but my breasts!

JR looked at me in horror and tried to get off of me but I grabbed him and pulled his body back onto mine. I wrapped my legs around him and thrust my pelvis so hard that he bounced upward.

“Are you all right?” he gasped.

“I will be as soon as you start fucking me,” I giggled. “Get busy.”

Later that afternoon JR explained how the milking bra worked.

When I woke from a long nap I saw a wheel chair in the room.

“What is this?” I laughed. “I’m not an invalid.”

“Yes you are,” he said. “You’ve been abused too badly to walk. Sit down.”

“Very well, master.”

He strapped me very tightly into the chair. Naked. (Nice.)

JR took me down the stairs and my breasts bounced at each of the steps. It was very painful. (Nice.)

Downstairs he wheeled me onto the back patio. I was delighted to be outside in broad daylight. JR was nude too. (Nice.)

The milking bra lay on the table. He picked it up to show me. The first thing I noticed was a large tube connecting it to a metal box; the second thing I noticed was how massive the bra was.

“The squeezing action is caused by air bladders that inflate from a small compressor,” JR told me. “I built in a mini computer that controls which bladders inflate, how firmly, and in what sequence. The suction cups on your nipples work the same way, just in reverse. I used a vacuum pump from a windshield wiper.”

“I like the suction,” I told him.

“The heat comes from hot fluid circulated through tubes and the cold is created by replacing the heated liquid with chilled brine. A high speed pump replaces one with another very quickly.”

“It felt like you were cooking my breasts when it was hot,” I said.

“What about the cold?” he asked. “Did you like that?”

“I’m not sure,” I answered. “It felt strange, and painful, but I haven’t decided whether the pain was erotic or not.”

“Hmm, we may have to try it again,” he said. “Just so you can make up your mind.”

“Ok by me,” I said. “How about right now?”

“Forget it. You have to heal first.”

“Ok. I suppose the electricity was just little wires, right?”

“Yes, three different circles.”

“I couldn’t tell any difference,” I said. “I just felt the buzzing all over my breasts.”

“Really?” he frowned in thought for a moment. “I wanted you to get different sensations in different parts of your breasts, especially your nipples.”

“It all felt the same.”

“Was it uncomfortable?”

“It was nice. It made me come.”

“Practically anything makes you come.”

“True. By the way, what caused the pricking sensation?”

“The prickling?”

“It felt like lots of little teeth were biting me.”

“That was a simple pneumatic clamp over each nipple,” he said. “It simulates the feel of biting teeth but the edges are flat, I didn’t want them cutting you.”

“No, not that. I felt little points sticking into me all over. Like your little kitten glove.”

“Oh that, they are dozens of thumb tacks that are pushed inward by another pneumatic bladder.”

“It felt like a mob of kittens were biting my boobs at the same time.”

“Good or bad?”

“Very good, thank you very much. How deep did they go in?”

“About half an inch.”

“Why didn’t I bleed?”

“The cold fluid prevented that.”

“Ah yes.”  

“The final setting was a powerful blast of compressed air against your nipples,” he said. “How did that feel?”

“Like I was being hit with a baseball bat,” I answered.

“Uh oh,”

“I think that was what caused most of the bruising,” I told him. “But I really liked the way the cups popped open for a second then slammed shut again.”

“They did?” he asked, surprised.

“Yes, weren’t they supposed to do that?”

“No, I thought they were secure enough to stay on you.”

“Well, I can’t say how far open they became, but I could certainly feel them slam back into place.”

“Was it good or bad?”

“It was wonderful.”

“What about the rocking motion?” he asked. “Did you like that?”

“Oh yes, the first time brought me to another orgasm,” I said. “A nice calm one, but very pleasant.”

“What about the side to side motion?”

“I liked it but I was so worn out by then that it didn’t do anything for me. I don’t think that I can go through every thing the machine does all at once.”

“What? My nymphomaniac masochist can’t handle torture any more?” he joked.

“You masochistic nymphomaniac is getting old,” I told him. “But you just untie me and I’ll show you what I can handle.”

He bent over me, took my head in his hands and kissed me.

“You probably just need to take breaks from time to time. I  tried to get you to do that remember?”

“Yes, that’s probably true.”

“Do you have any suggestions for the milker?” he asked.

I thought for a minute. “Perhaps a vibrator up my pussy,” I said. “And attach bells to my breasts.”

“No vibrator,” he said. “I designed this to entertain your breasts, not your pussy.”

“Oh ok,” I agreed.

“Why bells?” he asked. “You wear them all the time.”

“Oh, not the little tinkly ones, I mean big heavy church bells that will pull hard on my boobs while I’m rocking.”

“Ok, I’ll look for some.”

I looked at my wheel chair. “Where did this come from?”

“I bought it years ago to design a powered chair, but I never got around to it.”

“Ok, now that we’ve concluded this fascinating technical conversation, would you do me a favor and tie me to the bed again?”

“Oh, are you really ready for more sex?”

“Yes master.”

“My God. What would you like?”

“Anything you want, so long as it involves crushing my breasts under your body.”