Thursday, October 9, 2014

A Lesson Learned

If you recall, some time ago I was privileged to spend some time at a pony farm.

This pony farm was special; it was for human ponies. During my two weeks there I lived in a barn, in a stall, worked in the fields and practiced various exercises. I wore a tail and my feeding and bowels were strictly regulated. The stable housed a number of other human ponies, both male and female. Rules and training were strict with punishment severe (I was whipped once, and saw several others whipped while there). No human speech was allowed at any time. During my time there I was, essentially, an animal.

In spite of all these restrictions and difficulties it was one of the most wonderful times in my life. Being a pony girl was a delight; showing off, being trained and succeeding at my training, learning obedience and being dominated absolutely, working hard, and living and being cared for as a valuable pet was an amazing experience. I felt demeaned, sexy, sensual, successful, cared for, and loved while I was there.

During the later half of my time there I shared my stall with another human pony, a woman named Kerry. She was more of a lifestyle pony girl, something I didn't know existed until after I left the farm. I was there only for two weeks, but Kerry lived as a pony some of the time while at home. While we shared a stall, she and I developed something of a relationship, sharing sexual pleasures in the stable, helping each other get through the tougher times. Our communication was intimate and complete though non-verbal.

Basically, I acquired a real affection for Kerry. It was painful to leave her.

It was a complete surprise when I met Kerry some time after my experience at the pony farm. She was unrecognizable to me at first, dressed in a professional suit with makeup, drinking tea and having a scone. There was something distinctly familiar though, and I stared at her trying to remember who she was. I guess my stares aroused her interest because she looked over at me and immediately recognized me.

"Siobhan! Don't you recognize me? It's Kerry!" It was literally the first time I had heard her speak. At the pony farm the ponies are not allowed to speak.

I gasped, and immediately went over and gave her a hug. We sat down together, and feelings I had forgotten suddenly flowed over me. This was the woman that had made so much of my time at the farm a delight, with whom I had shared a lot of hard work as well as snuggles and... well.... lesbian sex. I still remembered her tail sliding against my pussy as I spooned her from behind the first night we were together.

We talked and shared and, well... it was as if I had met my soul mate. In fact, I had met my soul mate. She was everything I could desire in a woman. Educated, funny, beautiful, athletic, and... kinky. Very kinky. I have had bisexual tendencies since I was a teenager. In fact, many of my initial experiences with bondage and sexuality were with other girls. My attraction for Kerry was clear and complete.

When it was time for me to go Kerry walked me to my car. We stood close to each other and said our goodbyes, and yes, we kissed. She moved in first, but I responded immediately. The kiss was sweet, gentle, loving, deep, sexual, sexy and simply, everything I could hope for. My arms encircled her, held her body against mine as she leaned me against the car. Before we left, we made arrangements to meet again at the coffee shop, the next day.

The second time seeing her was as good as the first. Being able to talk and share inspired me, and tapped into a lesbian side of myself that I knew was there, but hadn't felt this strongly in years. We touched hands, laughed, and when it was time to go we touched a lot, and not just our hands. Our goodbye kiss was deep and long, as before. My heart ached when she finally got into her car (it was a new black BMW).

That night at home with Jason I was quiet and thoughtful. I wasn't as attentive as I should have been, and Jason disciplined me more than once, and finally threatened to make me sleep chained in the basement. That made me feel very bad for it meant I failed him and I absolutely hate myself when I don't satisfy him. I think I cried just a tiny bit at that point, and begged forgiveness, but Jason could tell something was wrong.

He held me then and I felt like his little girl, and he asked "Siobhan, tell me what's wrong? I can tell something is bothering you."

I confessed then. About my feelings for Kerry, my lesbian desire and tendencies, and how my passions were aroused by her during our two visits. I even told him about our kissing.

Needless to say, Jason wasn't happy. "Siobhan, I understand this about you. I've known how you like women since we first were together. We've had play time with Erin and Diane, and I've allowed you to indulge. I have been open to accommodating you. But that was all with my knowledge and permission. Here you admit to having a rendezvous with a woman and kissing her, being romantic with her? Without my permission and knowledge?"

I was a little taken aback at first but immediately saw how I had erred. I knelt before Jason, bowing my head, and said nothing.

"Siobhan, you have forgotten that you are not your own. You belong to me, you are my property. I give you freedom but not to do things like this. I do understand your desires and feelings and how they can carry you away, but you must be reminded that you simply are not your own. You have essentially cheated on me with another person. You don't get to make decisions like that. I understand your bisexual tendencies and empathize, but I am afraid I can not tolerate cheating and will have to punish you for this indiscretion."

"Please, Jason, I am so sorry. I understand now how I failed, it was a momentary lapse, it won't happen again." I had lowered myself so my head was on the floor at his feet in an ultimate display of submission.

"I understand. Let me think about this. For now, we shall go downstairs. You sleep in chains tonight."

I cried as he led me downstairs into the basement. The concrete floor down there is hard, cold, and unforgiving to sleep on, and the chains Jason uses are short and don't allow much movement. I removed my clothes, which he took with him when he left, but not before he attached shackles to my ankles, wrists and neck. Shackles always leave me feeling strange (both aroused and fearful); they are so hard and permanent. He trudged upstairs and turned off the light, plunging me into darkness. I would spend the night there, shivering in the cold, unable to relieve myself or sleep during the night. The next day at work would be tough.

Remarkably I did sleep that night. The next day, early, Jason came down and unshackled me.

"Please sir, may I relieve myself?"

"Yes, of course." Jason nodded. I ran, literally ran upstairs to the bathroom, sat on the toilet and peed. The relief was tremendous. I then stretched and relieved my arms and legs from the cramps they had acquired sleeping on concrete, and got dressed for work. It was a rough day. I snapped at a few of the engineers that work for me, and ended up leaving early before I caused more problems.

That night I made a special dinner for Jason. He was appreciative, and we sat at the dinner table and ate together. I was clothed, as he had recently been allowing me to dress in the evenings. It was with pride that I wore sexy outfits around my husband and master. It was a privilege for a slave such as I to wear clothes and I understood this. I was a pet, nothing more than an owned animal, and if he wanted me naked he had a perfect right. For this reason I always loved putting on the best, sexiest, most sensual clothes I had for him. It made me feel special and privileged.

When dinner was over and I had cleaned up, I presented myself to Jason once again, on my knees before him in the living room. He was watching TV, some sort of home remodeling program. I remained kneeling at to his side as he watched, awaiting his pleasure.

When the program was over Jason turned to me and ordered me to remove my clothes. I stripped, folding my dress and underwear neatly, and knelt before him again.

"Siobhan, no more clothes for now. I expect you to remain naked in the house at all times."

"Yes, sir." I bowed my head and hid a tear that trickled down my cheek. I had lost the privilege of dressing.

That night we had sex in bed, Jason taking me roughly from behind as he does at times when he is a little upset. He usually has me on my hands and knees, grabs my hips for leverage, and thrusts away as hard as he can. I was sore but it felt so good to snuggle up next to him afterward, and the way he kissed the top of my head made me feel warm, knowing he still loved me.

The real punishment came that weekend.

Saturday morning the doorbell rang at about 11 AM. Jason answered it (I was naked, per his instructions). He admitted someone to the house and I heard the door close behind them. I wondered what visitor we had that he would allow to enter while I was naked (though wearing a simple leather harness). When he entered the family room I saw.

It was Kerry.

She was dressed in a very plain one piece dress, with no shoes. I could tell she wasn't wearing a bra. Her head hung as if in shame. I wanted to go to her and comfort her and ask if all was well but knew better than that. Jason led her into the center of the room and instructed Kerry to raise her arms. She did, and Jason pulled her dress up and over her head. She wore nothing except for that simple dress, so in that moment she was completely naked.

"Siobhan, Kerry. You have both betrayed your masters. I have spoken with your owner, Kerry, and he agrees that the two of you should be punished together. We understand the desire you have, but ultimate control of your bodies and affections lies with us." Jason motioned to me and I followed him as he led Kerry and myself down the steps to the basement.

I was excited to see Kerry again, but afraid of the punishment. I was truly afraid to see Kerry punished; I did not want to see her suffer for my indiscretion, but it was too late.

In the basement Jason told Kerry to lay on a table we had that was used for various bondage positions. Jason can turn any household piece of furniture or accessory into bondage or punishment equipment, it's amazing. Anyway, Kerry lay down and I was told to climb up on top of her on my hands and knees, facing the opposite way like we were going to do 69. Jason quickly wrapped rope around our arms and legs, binding us together so that my arms were secured to her legs, and my legs secured to her arms. It was an awkward position to be in, though being tied tightly and pressed up against Kerry's rather healthy body was anything but unpleasant.

Jason left for a moment and returned with some muzzles I recognized. He applied one to my face, first. The muzzle was like a panel gag, but had a short protrusion on the inside, like a stubby penis. It wasn't long enough to gag on, but did fill my mouth well and kept my jaws wide apart. On the outside of the panel was a longer rubber dildo that extended outward from my face and sagged slightly. I had always been embarrassed when forced to wear this gag; the imitation male member extending from my face just felt humiliating and ugly. The gag was strapped on my head with a harness buckled behind my head, and over the top and sides to hold the panel firmly in place. The straps in the front split in front of my eyes, slightly obscuring my vision though it was not intended as a blindfold.

When the gag was firmly in place, Jason moved behind me toward my ass and Kerry's head. I could tell from the noises that he was securing a similar gag in place to her face, behind me. I began to get a hint of what might happen.

"Now then," Jason stepped back from the two of us helplessly tied and gagged before him. "Since you appear to have the hots for each other, fuck. Fuck each other. Do it well. Do it hard. Go ahead, start."

I think my entire body flushed at that point, embarrassment flooding me. Kerry's beautiful pink pussy was just below me, my arms tied to her slightly parted legs, my breasts pressed against her hips. I did as I was told and began nudging the dildo against the outer lips of her pussy, spreading the flesh and rubbing it up and down to work its way in.. Moments later I felt Kerry doing the same to me, the soft rubber of her own dildo pushing gently against my sex.

The humiliation of what was going on triggered something in me. I am not only a bondage and pain slut, but a true submissive. The embarrassment I felt turned my flush into a heat of arousal. I wanted to be fucked by Kerry's dildo, and be forced to fuck her as well. My body lubed itself rapidly at this point and I felt the rubber dong sticking out of Kerry's face slide deeper inside me.

"Get in there, Siobhan. Kerry is inside, you need to be too. Fuck her with your face, do it!"

I pushed harder, not wanting to hurt Kerry but knowing that if I wasn't aggressive... yes, there it was. A stinging, nasty stroke on my ass from a riding crop. I grunted and pushed harder, in turn making Kerry grunt as my face-phallus forced her lips apart and pushed deeper into her body.

Sliding the black rubber dildo out of Kerry's cunt, I saw how her flesh wrapped around and encircled the intrusive member. My eyes grew hazy with sexual heat seeing this and I pushed back in, just as Kerry pushed into me. I grunted with the force she used and could feel her penetrate me deep. Oh god, this was turning out to be one of the most amazing experiences of my life; I lay pressed against Kerry, thrusting deep with my face dildo, pulling out, watching Kerry's cunt lips encircle and clasp the rubber. At the same time I felt Kerry penetrating me, pushing in and out faster, fucking me with her face.

My hips began to move in rhythm, and Kerry thrust hers up to meet me, as well.

Tied securely, gagged, and forced to fuck another woman, especially I loved-- these were a fantastic combination for me. Being tied up always arouses me, gags are seldom comfortable but to be honest, I am a pain slut. And now... having Kerry under me, tied to her, our bodies writhing in place. Wow. I could feel an orgasm brewing rapidly.

I groaned, thrust, writhed, and with hardened nipples sliding against Kerry's sweaty hips, I came. Shuddering, wriggling my hips, I stopped the thrusting motion with my head, concentrating on the pleasure that swept over me. The result was a stinging stroke across my ass; the cane bit into me again to remind me to keep going. I did, thrusting back into Kerry until she shuddered and thrust hard against my face, grunting in pleasure underneath me.

We lay exhausted on the table, the dildos inside each other but no longer moving. Jason moved in front of me. I could see his cock was out and was still dripping slightly. He had apparently masturbated and cum while watching Kerry and I fuck each other. It made me happy.

"Very good. I am going to have lunch and a beer, and will return later." With that, Jason left Kerry and I tied together, faces pressed against each other's sex, dildos inside. I rested, and then rolled to the side so the weight of my body wasn't on hers, for her comfort. She snuggled her face into my cunt briefly in a sort of affectionate way, and I did the same. It was almost as if we were snuggling in bed, kissing. Except of course we were facing opposite directions, faces buried in each other's cunts, tied so we couldn't really move.

We rested, but after a while I wriggled a little, and rubbed my body against Kerry. She felt so good to have close, in a sexual way, but also in a rather emotional way. Yes, we were being punished and this wasn't a natural position but it was still good to feel her naked flesh on mine.

Kerry responded to the wriggling with her own hip movements and before long we were fucking each other again, the wetness of our pussies making it easy. I hadn't felt this close to someone in ages and the emotional feeling of being with Kerry, mixed with the natural arousal from being in bondage and forced to submit in this way, made me so horny I couldn't stop and didn't want her to, either.

Finally Jason came downstairs and we stopped our mutual writhing, wondering what he had in store for us.

Jason removed the gag harnesses from our faces and untied us from each other. Kerry remained laying on the floor, her beautiful body in full view, still tied and unable to move. Jason tied my wrists together and then raised the rope through a pulley directly above my head so my arms were stretched tightly and I stood on tip-toe. I was used to this position, and while it is increasingly uncomfortable the longer one dangles, I became nervous because I knew being strung up like this was never the end of it. There was always something worse coming along.

Jason knelt before me and began placing clamps, similar to clothes pins, along the soft white flesh of Kerry's stomach. Each clamp pinched her skin and was uncomfortable, but she didn't cry out. The disturbing part of the procedure was revealed when I saw the clamps were joined by a thin cord. Jason was creating a zipper, a torture technique where a series of clamps are applied and then can be ripped off all at once, causing sudden, excruciating pain. Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized this would be the first real pain of the day; and I would be watching.

The rope from Kerry's zipper was raised up and through another pulley above and dangled before me.

"Raise your leg, Siobhan," Jason ordered. I obeyed, not realizing what was happening. He grabbed my leg and lifted it up almost straight out in front of me. Holding it up he tied the end of the cord to my ankle.

Now, if I dropped my leg, I would be pulling the zipper from Kerry, triggering the pain.

Jason let go and I held my leg up, not letting it drop and pull on the rope. It was really, really hard. You try holding your leg up straight in front for any period of time, and you will see. My left foot was on tip-toe beneath me and my right held out in front. Most of my weight was on the rope that help my wrists above me, stretching my arm muscles out painfully. Almost immediately I was shaking from exertion, sweat trickling down my body. It was horrible.

"Two minutes, Siobhan. I will until the cord in two minutes."

If I could hold out two minutes I could stop myself from ripping off the clamp zipper from Kerry's body, but I could already feel my muscles giving out, shaking from the strain. My leg dipped slightly and pulled on the first clamp, stretching Kerry's skin. I raised my leg up again, straining hard.

I whimpered. It was too much. I tried. I didn't want to be responsible for torturing Kerry. But I wasn't going to be able to hold my leg up. I have no idea how long I made it, but with a grunt my leg suddenly collapsed down, the cord was pulled taught, and the clamps were ripped off Kerry in one smooth motion.  She screamed, and it was the most terrible thing to hear.

Jason placed the clamps back on her body, this time on the other side. There must have been 20 or 30 of them, and while I knew they hurt going on, they hurt 10 times worse getting jerked off all at once. The rope went back onto my ankle, and once again I tried to keep it raised.  I kept it raised for as long as I could; sweat poured down and my muscles were shaking when I finally dropped my leg and it ripped the clamp zipper from Kerry's flesh. Her yelp hurt my ears, and she rolled over, doubling in pain this time.

I didn't like this game but the next one was worse.

There is a simple wooden post stuck in the middle of our basement. It is inserted into the concrete floor and is used to tether me at times when I am stuck down there for a while. Jason tied Kerry and I to the post, with our backs to each other. The straps kept us relatively motionless, unable to move.

Then Jason added a little enhancement to our bondage -- he attached wires to my nipples with conductive clamps. The wires were connected to a small but powerful electric box. Another wire with a microphone extending from the box was attached to a small collar which he placed on Kerry. A similar harness was attached to Kerry, with the microphone collar attached to my own neck.

"Now then, girls. I am turning on the stun boxes. They are activated by noise, so try not to make too much, OK?"

Jason left the basement and as soon as I found we were alone and without gags, I spoke in a low tone to Kerry. "Oh, my dear Kerry, I am so sorry to have gotten you--"

Kerry jerked suddenly, her muscles tensing and her head jerking back. She cried out in pain. When she cried out, I suddenly felt a piercing, hot pain shoot through both nipples and breasts. "Aaagghh~ oh god!" I cried out, almost screaming in pain.

My scream set off the sensor in Kerry's shock box once again, and she shook from the pain, gurgling in an attempt to stay quiet in spite of the agony. As a result I only got a very brief, though painful shock, and I merely grunted slightly.

The shocks had stopped. We had learned; don't talk, and if you do get shocked, don't cry out. I was crying slightly, tears running down my cheeks, but I managed to stay quiet. I could feel Kerry shaking a little, as well. She had born the brunt of the shocks, and I felt terrible about it. But I knew I couldn't apologize. That was how the cycle of shocks and pain had started, after all.

The door to the basement slammed as Jason returned, setting off the shocks for just a moment. We both jerked simultaneously, and then settled as the pain subsided.

"Well, I wanted to have a bit of fun with you two. Not that it wasn't fun watching you fuck each other, but I think I want to try my hand, so to speak." Jason had returned with a vibrator. I looked at it with suspicion as he knelt before me and turned it on. It hummed with a quiet, high quality buzz that always turned me on; I used it frequently and the sound was associated with pleasure and orgasms.

Jason pushed the vibrator between my legs, pressing hard. It pushed against my pussy, and while it didn't reach my clit, the secondary vibrations through my flesh stimulated me. I opened my mouth into a wide "OH", and stopped myself just in time. I couldn't make any noise.

Jason knew just how to get me going, where to touch and push, how to manipulate the vibrator and my naked flesh. It was all I could do to stifle my whimpering. I clenched my fists as my arousal built, refusing to let out one peep. Kerry would not be shocked again because of me. The orgasm was slow in coming; I had already cum twice that day but I am totally multi-orgasmic and frankly, it is easier for me to orgasm while tied tightly. My hips thrust slightly against the vibration and I shuddered, clenching my jaw to keep from crying out from the waves of pleasure.

When it was over Jason turned the vibrator off and stood. I gasped with relief, and I felt Kerry tense slightly. I couldn't tell whether she had received a small shock or if the sound I made frightened her.

Slowly, Jason slid his hands over my body and breasts, feeling my heaving chest as my breathing slowed from the recent climax. He then moved around to Kerry. The sound of the vibrator resumed, and I could tell from the way her body tensed and pressed back against mine, she was being stimulated in the same way as I had been. I tensed, hoping she would be able to hold back from making a noise, but not counting on it.

This was true torture, waiting, not knowing if the shock would come, dreading it, feeling Kerry behind me breathing heavier and heavier as her own orgasm approached. Finally, she let out a whimper; I tensed expecting the jolt in my nipples. Nothing happened; it had not been loud enough. I relaxed just in time for her to make a slight gagging noise and my nipples exploded in white hot slicing pain that seemed to fill my breasts like acid milk.

Yeah, I yelped. It was so unexpected I yelped and that hit Kerry with a shock. Interesting thing was, the shock appeared to coincide with her orgasm, and didn't stop it. Kerry, it turns out, is a bit of a pain slut. The pain wasn't exactly fun for her, but in the right circumstances it enhanced sensations and sent her over the edge, emotionally and sexually. She shook and twitched behind me as she climaxed, but she didn't make any more noise. I was grateful.

When it was over, Jason left us wired up and tied to the post, and left the basement. We simply stood, tied to each other, back to back, unable to talk or share. Somehow, the feeling of Kerry's naked warm flesh against mine was a comfort, even in this uncomfortable and painful situation.

That evening Jason came downstairs and unstrapped the clamps and electrodes from our nipples. I find it amazing how the pain of a nipple clamp when first applied seems to fade nothing or a dull ache, but when it is removed the pain returns in a rush, worse than ever. I gasped, and I heard Kerry cry out when she was unhooked from the electrostim device.

We were both sweaty and soiled; we had been in captivity for hours down in the basement and it was hot. I must also admit that during that time both Kerry and I had had no choice but to relieve ourselves onto the concrete floor before. It was humiliating, but there simply was no choice. So Jason took a hose and washed us down, thoroughly, while we were still tied there in the center of the room. This is an unpleasant process, though not painful. Water gets up my nose and in my mouth and eyes, and the temperature isn't always the best. But it was good to get clean and I like it when Jason cleans me.

Jason released us from our bondage tied to each other back to back, and turned us to face each other. He then produced a new toy I had never seen before. It was a ball gag. He put it on me, strapping it tightly in place. But the gag had two sets of straps; he guided Kerry's face close to mine and forced her mouth over the same gag, using the second set of straps to close her mouth around the same gag that was in my own mouth. The result? A forced kiss. A gagged kiss. Our lips touched, pressed, but the gag was firmly in my mouth. Our faces were at an angle. It was the oddest sensation.

It was wonderful essentially kissing Kerry, something I deeply desired. But this wasn't quite a kiss. Our faces were almost smashed together, not quite. Jason left us this way for a while, our hands cuffed behind our backs, faces pressed against each other. I relaxed and actually melted into Kerry after a while, But, in spite of my passion for Kerry, I have to say the whole thing wasn't exactly romantic. Especially while Jason sat and watched us, slowly masturbating.

Late that evening the dual strap gag was removed and Jason secured us for the evening while he went to bed. We lay on the concrete floor, naked, a bowl of food and water left out for us.

The rest of the night was heaven, as far as I was concerned. To be naked and restrained next to my lesbian lover was a delight. We talked, caressed each other, made sure we were well after the punishment, and then fell to touching and exploring each other's bodies. We made love, fell asleep on the floor, and woke in the early morning hours and made love lazily once again. Our chains, while preventing us from moving far, did not prevent us from intertwining our legs, rubbing pussies, kissing, pressing our breasts together, suckling one another, and discovering any number of other ways to give and receive sexual pleasure.

When we tired we lay in each other's arms once again, and talked. Kerry told me of her life with her own master (his name is Rob, and seems to be a somewhat harsher owner than my own Jason), and her long periods as a human pony. Her owner is wealthy and they traveled frequently, sometimes visiting exotic resorts, and sometimes spending time in remote enclaves where women were treated as slaves in large compounds. I had never heard of this, but then, Jason and I were not wealthy. Our combined incomes make us well off and we have plenty of money to satisfy our needs and wants, but we can't afford the kind of travel and luxury that Rob and Kerry are used to experiencing.

We feel asleep once again and slept well in each other's arms until noise from upstairs woke us. Jason had greeted a guest and they sounded like they were about to come into the basement.

"That's my owner, Rob. Be careful around him, he has a temper." Kerry warned me as we stood. The basement door opened and Jason led the way, followed by a tall, handsome guy with a rugged face. I recognized him from the Pony farm.

"Greetings, slaves." Rob's stern voice barked out and I felt a chill run through my body. "Jason informs me you both have been punished for the last 24 hours, but I would like to assure myself that both of you receive the kind of punishment I would deliver. Jason's methods are... more subtle than mine."

At this Jason took me and Rob took Kerry, unchaining us. My eyes focused on the floor, unable to look at Jason. I was scared, but trusted him.

Jason led me to a wooden rail on the side of the room and bent me over it. The rail dug into my stomach as Jason pulled my arms down and strapped them to rings on the other side. Rob was doing the same with Kerry, just a couple of feet away from me.

My ankles were tied apart, settling my stomach even harder into the rail. I was stuck in the position, bent over with my ass and cunt exposed. One of two things was going to happen; I had little doubt I was in for one nasty spanking or ass whipping. Whether it was followed by a serious fucking, I didn't know. I supposed it didn't matter. It was up to Jason. There was nothing I could do now anyway, tied and unable to move.

From the corner of my eye I could see Kerry in the same position, her beautiful breasts dangling down as she waited.

The first strikes were stinging strokes from a cane. I've always been amazed at how much a cane can hurt; they are such small flimsy things, but that is part of what makes them wicked. The thin, hard snap of material across flesh creates a sharp stinging sensation that doesn't go away, it builds and gets worse with each stroke. I grunted and began to cry a bit from the pain as the caning proceeded. Kerry was crying quietly next to me.

Twenty strokes. Unless you have been caned you have no idea how much that hurts. It turns from a stinging into a burning, spreading deeper and wider than the actual area where the cane leaves its mark. My entire ass felt like it was on fire. I couldn't see it but was absolutely certain I was covered with angry red welts.

I was untied and saw Rob untying Kerry. Her ass looked horrible, and her beautiful face was streaked with tears. She looked at the floor, unable or unwilling to look at me or her owner. She stood crying, waiting for directions.

"Go upstairs and get dressed girls. The punishment is over. I think you have learned your lesson." Rob sounded a little kinder now, but I still was glad I was owned by Jason. I had chosen Jason and given myself to him, and never regretted that decision.

Later in the day Jason and I said goodbye to Kerry and Rob. Kerry was recovered and once dressed, she appeared an amazing, composed, sexy professional woman. No one would know she had spent the weekend being tortured in a dungeon basement.

That evening I lay in Jason's arms, quietly enjoying being with him. "Jason, thank you."

"For what, my love?"

"For what you did for Kerry and I. I know you punished us, but you also gave us a wonderful gift of time and intimacy together. I know you. I know that was intentional."

Jason smiled. "Yeah... you really did deserve to be punished, but I figured Rob would take care of that. I'm mostly a softy and really do understand your feelings for Kerry. Maybe we can get together with them sometime."

The thought thrilled me. I snuggled closer to my man, my husband, my owner and master, and began to doze off, completely at peace.

Thursday, June 5, 2014

Center of Attention

I stood as best I could in the center of the room. It wasn't uncomfortable (yet), but it took some effort to balance on the ballet boots.

I swear, it is amazing to me how many different ways humanity comes up with to torture and humiliate women. High heels is one of them, and excessively high heels are just... awful. To think there are some women that learn to walk on their toes for the pleasure of men, and call it art.

These boots were custom fitted and made of a soft, supple leather. I was literally on my toes but the 8 inch heel reinforced the stance, making it OK.  It just took concentration to keep my balance.

My naked body felt quite normal; I spend much of my time at home naked or wearing some sort of minimal clothing designed to show off my body or give my owner and husband Jason pleasure. It makes me feel good to wear something small and revealing. It's sexy, sensual, and it gives me immense satisfaction to see how my body arouses him. It actually makes me feel a little powerful to observe him get hard when he sees me.

Jason was having some friends over. I didn't know who or how many; I figured it was one of our neighbors. The couple next door are also in a D/s relationship (though it is F/m). Across the street is a couple that is curious and we've been open with, even engaged in a little swinging play. I really like Diane and love to play with her.

So I stood in the middle of the living room, as instructed, wearing nothing but the tightly laced ballet boots, waiting. Jason entered with my best armbinder (we have three), the one that is softest inside but laces quite tightly in the back. It is impossible to get off when put on properly. Just seeing it aroused me a little; yes, I admit I am a bondage slut. I have been since I was... well, early teen years. I placed my arms obediently behind my back, palms facing each other. Jason slid the armbinder up, wriggling it into place. The laces were quite loose to get it on, but once on, Jason began pulling them tight from the bottom (near my wrists). The higher he went, the more the flesh of my arms was pressed together until the bones of my elbows touched and pressed.

This wasn't new. I had worn the binder many times before. It gave Jason pleasure for me to be in it. He said I looked sexy in it, and I felt sexy. When tightened all the way my arms and even shoulders were pulled back, stretching the skin of my chest and thrusting my breasts out rather salaciously.

Jason tightened the laces to the top just above my elbows, and then began another round of tightening from the bottom. Once the laces are pulled tight, slack at the bottom appears and needs to be pulled out until the monoglove fits like a second skin.

When he was done, I waited patiently in the middle of the living room, wondering what would come next.

What came next was my panties, which I had removed earlier.

"Open your mouth, dear," Jason ordered. I did as requested and he pushed the soft cloth into my mouth until it was filled. The cotton is uncomfortable; it absorbs the moisture in my mouth, and makes it feel dry. Of course, the stimulation of the gag also makes more saliva and consequently drool, so it is a combination that is not a lot of fun, though not painful. The other thing about pantie gags (or any gag that fills the mouth) is that it does a pretty good job of silencing me. I can make muffled grunts, but there will be no screaming or begging, so wearing a gag like that can be disconcerting. It made me nervous.

Jason wrapped clear packing tape over my lips, around my cheek and the back of my head and kept going. After several circles around my head and face, the pantie gag was secured in place and I no longer had the ability to talk or make noise.

The ballet bondage boots also served to hobble me rather nicely; I can't run and frankly, can't even walk much at all in those things. So, between the boots, the armbinder and the gag, I was pretty much immobile and waiting my master's command.

The next item was a simple hood. This upset me as well. I've worn it before and it is miserable. Made of a relatively tight fitting heavy cloth, it slips over the top of my head and is tied around my neck. It can be laced tight so the material conforms to the shape of my head.  Problem is, there are no holes in the hood except for two very small ones just over my nostrils. It effectively blinds me and muffles my hearing. Breathing is OK though not great, but otherwise I am isolated in my own world of darkness.

I whimpered slightly as the hood descended over my face and I saw light for the last time in a while. The strap at the bottom was tightened around my throat, not choking me but tight enough the hood would not come off. The laces in the back pulled and the cloth squeezed against my face like a second skin.

My world had collapsed into a dark, muffled place where I could not see, hear or move. I was vulnerable, exposed, and with the addition of the gag I felt even more helpless. I think I might have whimpered a bit more. With my senses restricted like that, I felt even more naked than ever.

Jason's hand stroked the bare flesh of my lower back, traveling down across my ass.

The last touch of my bondage arrived. A pull on the hood announced that a rope or some other restraint had been fastened to the ring that was secured as part of the hood at the top of my head. It yanked upward slightly putting pressure on my neck and chin. I was now forced to stand straight up, unable to walk away even if the ballet boots had allowed it.

Silence. Emptiness. I stood, knowing I was in the living room of my own house, but unable to move. My feet hurt, my upper arms and shoulders ached slightly. I breathed slowly, forcing myself to stay calm.  I have no idea how long it was that I stood there waiting; perhaps 15 minutes. Maybe a half hour. Not more than an hour. It felt like an eternity, simply standing on my toes, naked, waiting.

In the distance I heard the doorbell ring. The door opened and there were voices. Jason's, and another man's. A guest had arrived. Inside my dark prison I panicked. I was naked, restrained in a forced standing position in my living room, and a guest had arrived that I could not see or hear. My breathing became more rapid. I tried to listen for clues. Who was there?

As Jason came into the living room I heard the other man's voice more clearly. It was Steve, the neighbor from across the street. I calmed a little. Steve had played with us before, I had been naked in his presence before. Jason and Steve talked for a while then the doorbell rang again.

Another guest. The man's voice was not familiar. Jason now had two guests over, both standing in the living room, probably surveying my naked and tied body. There was absolutely nothing I could do about it. The muscles of my shoulders and back writhed a bit in an instinctual attempt to get free, something I knew intellectually was useless. I was bound tightly enough I could hardly move except to shuffle my feet and slide my hips around a bit. Finally, I simply stood, though I think I was breathing hard.

Breathing hard means my chest and breasts were moving up and down. I became aware of my body and how it must look to the three men in the room. My leg muscles were tight and drawn because of the ballet bondage boots. My breasts jutted out obscenely because of the armbinder. My stomach was stretched and concave because of how the hood drew me toward the ceiling. My breast were heaving up and down.

The doorbell rang yet again.  A third guest. It was another voice I didn't recognize, another of Jason's male friends. He was having a gathering of his friends, and I was the centerpiece, the decoration. Tears welled up in my eyes and did their best to trickle down my cheeks between my skin and the hood's material. There was nothing to do but endure.

After the last guest arrived there were a total of six men in the living room. I stood still except for the occasional shift of my feet to maintain my balance.

The TV went on. It was the football game. The men were probably drinking beer and watching football as I stood naked and on display for them.  How long would I be like this? It had probably been an hour.... how long is a football game?  Two hours? Three? I didn't know if I would be able to make it. Not that I had a choice.

The game went on as I stood in darkness. Once, the men let out a loud shout, a whoooop of joy. Their team had scored. My legs hurt, aching from the strain of standing in the bondage boots. During the first hour I flushed periodically; I could feel my skin burn red as the humiliation of my situation overwhelmed me. But I was helpless. I did the only thing I could, stand there and wait.  And endure.

My armbinder is comfortable in that the leather is soft and there are no irritating seams or ridges that will dig into my flesh over time. It still clamps my arms behind my back as it is designed to do, and that can grow quite tiring after a while. By halftime my shoulders cramped.

Halftime brought new humiliation. My naked body was touched. I knew Jason's touch; his hands and fingers are familiar to me as if they are my own. Other hands touched me, at first stroking my bare stomach and back. Multiple hands. I knew there were six men in the room, so there were a maximum of 12 hands that could be fondling my naked body. At one point it felt like all 12 hands were touching me in some way.

My nipples were pinched and breasts cupped and raised from behind. I flushed because the pinching aroused me, my nipples growing hard. It was humiliating to let these strangers know what a bondage slut I was, but there was no choice. I guess that was the point.

Hands groped across my back, over my shoulders and around my neck. Lips attached themselves to my nipples and sucked. Two men, one on each breast, suckled my erect nipples while others gently felt between my legs. My upper thighs were explore, my ass was cupped and spread wide.

Tears streamed down my face inside the hood. Strangers were groping me, exploring my body. Most horribly, my body was reacting to them, I could feel myself becoming wet and aroused. I hope that no one would touch me there...  and then someone did. No penetration, but someone slid their hand over my pussy lips. Yes, there was no disguising it now. They knew I was wet.

During this whole experience not one person actually penetrated my body. Yes, they felt every exposed surface, touching my legs, thighs, ass, stomach, breasts, neck, shoulders, back, and even the outside of my pussy. But not one finger slipped inside. I knew Jason was there watching and had given strict instructions I was not to be violated in that way.

Halftime was over and the guys went back to the game. It was a relief, though I was left alone to suffer, standing in the room with my legs and shoulders aching. I tried sinking down, putting more of my weight on the hood and the ring that held me upright. That resulted in the strap pressing harder on my neck and choking me, so I stood up again.

The classic predicament torture. Stand, and my leg muscles burned from the strain. Sink down and my neck would be compressed and choked. One way or another I was fucked. It reminded me of riding the wooden pony, where I could rock forward, and endure the pain on my mons pubis and pelvis, or rock backward and endure pain on my vagina and ass or even tailbone. Back and forth.

Thus I rocked up and down slowly, hanging by my neck until I needed to breathe then standing once again, remaining their until my legs burned enough and I could sink down once again and let my neck support my weight.

Finally the game was over. I could hear the guys chattering with Jason, presumably telling him how much they had enjoyed the game and the halftime entertainment. I stood, knowing they were giving me final, longing glances. I was probably the best female body they had ever touched, and perhaps ever would touch. The thought didn't really help much. I mentally begged for them to leave.

When the door closed the last time and Jason undid the rope that held me suspended, I collapsed to the floor. He removed the hood and then the tape that held my gag in place. The panties were removed and I gasped for air, breathing deep lung fulls. My face was a mess, of course, from the tears and compression of the cloth hood. He undid the ballet boots next, and finally the armbinder.

My body arms and legs didn't work right for several hours after the ordeal, which was OK. Jason took me on the floor just then, rolling me onto my back and fucking me hard the way he does when I have pleased him with my suffering. I lay on my back, legs spread, and let him come inside me, twice, before he helped me upstairs to bed.

I was happy to have served him well and pleased him so much.

Monday, March 17, 2014

Riding the Rope

I think I've written about the wooden pony and how much I hate it. My hatred of that particular punishment and torture comes from the fact it just seems to go on and on, wearing me down. My suffering is on display, and I simply can't not wriggle and rock back and forth, providing amusement to those who might be watching. The constant need to try and find some position to relieve the discomfort, along with the complete inability to get more than a few seconds of relief, combine to make a pony ride something I dread.

That said, it also has become one of Jason's favorite activities. He calls it a form of predicament bondage, because the discomfort is constant and while I can move to try and relieve it, that simply moves the discomfort to some other spot.

While on the pony, the normal position rests the majority of my weight directly on the soft flesh of my pussy. When I first start the ride, it isn't terrible, it is uncomfortable but bearable. But as time goes on the pain grows, the aching increases, the digging of harsh corners into my flesh makes moving inevitable.

And so I rock back; with ankles pinioned up off the floor or with weights dragging them down, it is the only thing I can do. Rocking back shifts the weight from my pussy and onto my ass. Depending on the pony, the wood will spread my ass cheeks wide, or press deep into my anus. Regardless, leaning back onto my ass relieves the pain in my pussy (at least most of it), and feels better for a while.

The position of leaning back is more difficult; my back and stomach muscles will cramp quickly and of course, my ass will hurt. The wood presses into the flesh of my buttocks and between my legs as much as on my pussy, and will finally be enough to force me to rock forward. There is also a limit to how far back I can rock, because my arms are usually tied behind me, and up in a semi-strappado. Leaning back just aggravates the discomfort in my shoulders by raising my arms higher.

But my pussy will still be sore; bruised from sitting on the hard wood, and so I will continue to rock forward, leaning my hips until the wood of the pony presses the front of my pussy, and higher into my groin and pelvis. I usually can't hold this position for long; while my stomach, shoulders and back like it, my pubic bone presses against my flesh and smashes it, causing pain to grow fast. Plus, this tends to smash my clit directly, an unpleasant experience, though if I want to wriggle a bit I can actually get rather aroused. Jason loves to watch me do this, because he can see my nipples grow hard while I am moaning from pain.

So, rather quickly, I will rock back onto my pussy.

And so on.  As time and the torture goes on, I get progressively more desperate for a good position. My rocking and wriggling happens faster. I have even tried rocking back and forth as fast as I can go continuously, but it doesn't help. There comes a point where it no longer matters where I am positioned, it hurts. At that point I begin to lose my mind, and cry.

Sometimes during punishment and torture the smallest things can make a difference. One thing I find important and is a kindness that Jason sometimes will do for me, is to put my hair in a pony tail. While riding the pony I inevitably sweat, and my face will be moist. When I rock the hair sticks to the skin of my face and gets very annoying. With my hands bound behind me I can't brush it out of the way. Having my hair in a pony actually helps quite a bit.

Throughout this process I am on display. Jason loves to watch me suffer in this manner, and has even invited a neighbor over to view the process. I rock, and moan, and show my breasts hanging forward and my nipples hardening, and slowly become more desperate, all the while being watched, my discomfort the pleasure of others.  It is, to put it bluntly, humiliating. It's part of the punishment.

When I rode the rope for the first time, I thought it would be better, and in some ways it was. What I did to be punished isn't relevant; I had embarrassed Jason in public and deserved to be punished. I accepted this. Perhaps deep in my subconscious I had misbehaved because I wished to be punished. I leave this to others.

For this punishment Jason had invited our neighbors to come observe. We play with our neighbors at times. The couple next door is in a rather strict femdom relationship, and the couple across the street is very fluid in their willingness to try new things when it comes to fetishes.

I came into the garage area that is filled with some of Jason's more elaborate toys, collared and led by a leash. Our neighbors sat or stood casually watching as Jason ordered me to undress.  I unbuttoned my blouse, revealing my C cup breasts in my bra. I was wearing a skirt, which I slipped off, exposing my panties. Shoes were easy.  Stripping in this manner is easy for me, especially in front of my neighbors; they have seen me naked before and I sort of enjoy the attention. I especially like Diane, a voluptuous blond in her early 30s. One day I hope to find a reason to spend some real intimate time with her.

"Remove your bra and panties," Jason instructed. My bra unhooked, releasing my breasts which sagged only a bit. My breasts are still quite firm. The final article of clothing was my panties, which slid off easily. In doing so, I raised my leg, very aware that I was exposing my pussy to full view. I blushed just a bit then stood with my hands to my sides. My natural tendency to cover myself out of modesty was suppressed as disobedient. My body is Jason's, and I must not cover myself in front of him.

"Stand here, in the middle, legs apart."

I did as instructed, not knowing what was to happen. The neighbors sipped wine I had served them when they had arrived.

Jason took my wrists behind me and tied them together quickly and easily (he is fantastic at fast and secure rope work). I heard him rummaging behind me and then felt him take my tied wrists and thread something between them, just above where they were tied. It was another rope, which he then threaded from where it crossed my wrists down between my legs. Sliding the excess slack from the rope, it slid between my thighs, arousing me a little.

Who am I trying to kid. The whole process was turning me on. I am a bit of an exhibitionist. I admit it.

When the slack in the rope was pulled through, it pressed tightly up into the crack of my pussy. I let out a soft "oh..." of surprise and slight discomfort as Jason walked to the other side of the garage, pulling the rope up tight as he went. The rope pressed harder into my pussy, increasingly uncomfortable. Reaching the other end of the garage space, Jason reached the rope up to an eye ring in the wall at about chest height, threaded the rope through and pulled it tight, clamping it in place.

"Owwwww," I couldn't help grunting. The rope jerked deep into my soft flesh, actually sliding deep enough that I could feel it slide against my vagina walls. My wrists tied in the back pulled the rope up through my ass crack, completing the impalement. I lifted up on my toes, trying to relieve the pressure a bit.

"Good girl. I like to see you on your toes. I always makes your calves look so beautiful." Jason was pleased but I was uncomfortable. Not seriously in pain, but definitely not happy.

Erin and Jim stood and came over to where they could observe my roped and spread labia clearly. Examining me, Erin exclaimed that she loved this bondage position, and wondered what Jim might look like riding a rope. Jim turned pale at this but said nothing.

"Now, Siobhan. You can be released from riding the rope at any time. You simply have to make your way to where the rope is clamped, and unclamp it. There, on the wall. On the other side of the garage." Jason pointed to where he had just fasted the rope.

I contemplated the predicament. Jason wasn't about to let me out of this easily, and I began to see the problem. I would have to walk about 20 feet with the rope sliding through my pussy. Ouch. Like, really ouch.

As I looked closer, I saw the rope had knots tied in it. About every foot or so was a nice, nasty knot, ready to bite into my pussy and tear the sensitive flesh. Just.... ouch. Thanks to the rope being threaded through my arms above my wrists, the knots would also slide between my ass cheeks, giving me a nice buggering. I sighed and began to walk.

I started slowly and immediately stopped. The rope was a lot tighter than I thought, and really hurt as I slid across it. As if to underscore my discovery, Diane came over, examining my ass, and said, "That must really scrape and hurt."

"Yes. It does!" I rolled my eyes and took another step. The rope pulled through my labia, up between my ass cheeks and past my arms behind me.

Another step and I felt the first knot touch the front of my pussy. Stopping for a moment and gathering my determination, I breathed and stepped forward. The knot pressed against my clit really hard, slid over the hardness of my pubic bone and rested in my vagina.

"Ah!" I sort of grunted. Pushing forward against, the knot slid over my perineum and smashed into my anus as if demanding in. "Oh, shit," I moaned involuntarily.

Jason laughed at the irony of that statement as I proceeded forward and the now slightly wet and slimy knot slid over the ropes tying my wrists and was left behind.

My calves were giving out and I had to lower myself onto my flat feet. It didn't actually make the discomfort from the rope much worse, because it stretched slightly.

I leaned back this time, trying to lower my wrists and thus reduce the pull on the rope between my ass cheeks. It worked a little, though it was a bit humiliating for I was thrusting my hips and pubic area out and both Jim and Steve thought that was especially fun. Nevertheless I pushed forward, the foot of rope sliding through my flesh until the next knot slid past my clit and into my vagina, and then lodged nicely in my anus before sliding past and out.

"Oooowwwww.... damnit!" I grunted. This one had felt worse than the last.  I pushed forward, knowing I would have to endure the scraping at some point. Might as well get it over with.

My labia was feeling hot, no doubt because it was beginning to swell and inflame from the irritation. It was also growing more sensitive. I felt something trickling down my leg, and wondered if it was blood or just sweat. Probably just sweat. It was warm, but the pain of punishment usually makes me sweat. Going past the next knot was enough and I stopped for a moment.

"Erin. I think Siobhan is having trouble motivating herself to reach the end of her rope. Do you think you can help?" Jason talked sweetly, but his meaning was clear. Moments later I felt a sharp stinging slap on my ass where Erin had used a riding crop. I yelp just a bit and moved forward. Each time I slowed, Erin would strike my ass or boobs with the crop.  Erin is really a dominant woman. I feel sorry for Jim sometimes, though I am thoroughly submissive to Jason and should understand his situation.

Dragging along, I realized the pain and discomfort of the rope was getting worse. It wasn't just because I was becoming swollen and sensitive (which I was), it was also because as I got closer to where the rope reached the wall, it rose up toward the ring. The pressure on my pussy increased, driving, cutting deeply into my crack. I literally began to feel like I was being fucked by that rope, but I kept going.  I had to.

As I got close to the wall, the rope rose sharply up, cutting and dragging hard against my clit; it also pressed deep between my legs and up between my ass cheeks. I leaned back as far as I could, trying to get the right angle to relieve the pressure, and get closer, but finally I felt I had gotten as close as I could.

I was faced with a predicament. Jason had instructed that I release the clamp that held the rope in place on the wall, but that clamp was in the wall in front of me. My wrists were tied behind my back, unable to reach forward to unclamp it. I turned to Jason.

"Jason, please sir, may I have my arms freed so that I may unclamp the rope?" I asked as politely and calmly as I could, respectful, though tears were welling up in my eyes.

"No, Siobhan. I know it will be difficult, but you need to get the clamp yourself."

My heart sank. The tears came for real now, trickling down my face. How on earth was I supposed to get around and reach the clamp? I stood staring, the flesh between my legs throbbing slightly. My calves were cramping, I had been up on my toes for so long. The neighbors were still there, watching, enjoying my suffering in this predicament, but I had virtually forgotten them.

Finally, I took a deep breath and did what I knew I had to do. Slowly, I began to turn my body so that my shoulders shifted and arms came around toward the wall. As I did so, the rope twisted across my genitals and pressed against my thighs. It was so tight it was almost impossible to move, but somehow I did it. Straining, pressing, pushing, I rose even higher on my toes, sobbing from the pain in my legs. Lifting my hands higher pulled the rope even tighter, and I thought for a moment I would lose my balance.

"AAAAAGGGHHHH!!!" I screamed when I sank back down onto the rope, my first attempt at grabbing the clamp unsuccessful. My feet went flat on the floor, my pussy taking almost all the weight of my body on the rope. I lifted off again, twisting, pulling, maneuvering in spite of the blood that was being cut off from my aching legs because of the rope twisting around my thighs, straining my back to get my arms around, leaning forward as much as I could to get my hands higher behind me, and finally my fingers felt the metal latch.

I grabbed the latch to keep from losing my grip on it, and pulled.  The rope suddenly released, falling down to the floor. I followed it, collapsing in sweet relief. It was over. I sobbed on the floor as my audience applauded.

My labia, vagina, rectum, and perineum were all bruised and raw with abrasions. I couldn't sit for the next 24 hours, and simply lay on my back naked with my legs spread. Jason applied some soothing salve which made the area feel a lot better.

Riding the rope was a bad punishment. I am not sure which is worse, the wooden pony or the rope. I suppose whichever one I am enduring at the moment is worse.

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Cumming Out Party

I think I have mentioned that our neighbors, Erin and her husband Jim, have a unique lifestyle similar to my own with Jason.  Erin dominates Jim thoroughly. You would never know it to look at them in normal life. Erin is a petite, lovely brunette, smiles a lot and while aggressive in business is also an easy person to like.  Jim is quieter, but also friendly, intelligent, and rather tall. He towers over Erin.

What few people know is that Jim wears a chastity device 24/7. Erin wears the key on a chain around her neck, hidden from view.  My slave collar, a permanent lightweight ring of steel, is worn for all to see. While most people think it is just a unique piece of jewelry, those familiar with it know it is permanent, can not be removed, and is a sign of my complete subjugation to my husband and owner. To this extent, Jim and Erin's relationship is more hidden than mine.

Erin loves her husband, but also derives great joy from dominating, controlling and humiliating him. I have little insight into what goes on in their house, but Jason and I have played with them enough to know how serious and debauched their personal lives can be. Jason treats me fairly and lovingly, though he can be cruel; he treats me as his property. At times he uses me as a pain slut, simply enjoying seeing me struggle, moan, or cry from new torture he has devised. These times are not truly hard for me, for I know my suffering pleases him. The most difficult times are when Jason punishes me because of my failure. It is then that I feel the worst because I know I have let him down and deserve the punishment.

So one day Erin invited Jason and myself over for an event that Saturday night. I say "event" because while we were to have dinner, there was other entertainment scheduled. Apparently, Jim had been in chastity for over two months, and Erin had decided to let him out of his cage to pleasure himself. But, in line with her delight in humiliating and controlling her husband, she had invited us over to watch the process and perhaps even join in her domination.

Being a slave myself, I understood how painful this would be for Jim and felt for him, but at the same time accepted that this was the lifestyle he wanted and that ultimately, this gave him pleasure, satisfied him and met his needs. His devotion to Erin is complete, as is mine to Jason.

For the evening, Jason picked out a long gold dress that showed off my curves nicely. Because we were visiting others in the lifestyle, he decided that some form of bondage was appropriate, so when I had finished dressing and doing my face and hair, he placed a light chain around my waist. My wrists were cuffed to the waist chain with one foot chains, which allowed for me to interact with others and some freedom of movement, but would restrict and remove total freedom. I could not reach my hands above my breasts, and the chains were just a bit too short to allow my arms to hang freely at my sides.

We walked over to Erin's house. It was dark already, so I wore my restraints openly. Jason nuzzled my neck as we walked, which made me thrill. I love his attention, and do anything to please him. We rang the doorbell and Jim answered, smiling wide as he admitted us. The living room was warm, scented candles giving a romantic feel in dim lighting. It felt special immediately.

"So, Jim, are you excited about tonight? How long has it been, anyway?" Jason shook hands with Jim in a friendly manner.

"God, yes. It's been two months, eight days and three hours. Give or take." Jim was obviously excited. The fact we were there to see him as he received his unusual reward and orgasm wasn't bothering him visibly. We were intimate with him and Erin. I had actually sucked Jim off once, while he was still in chastity (a miserable experience for him, I can assure you). I had also had the opportunity to do Erin more than once, and even the privilege of having her service me, as well. However, this would be the first time to see Jim naked and out of chastity.

We sat down at dinner. Erin had cooked a beautiful goulash, and paired it with a nice wine. We had two bottles between the four of us. Not enough to get drunk, but a little relaxed. Jim seemed a little nervous and expectant. My restraints made it difficult to eat, as I could not raise my hands to my face; so I resorted to bending over deeply to get my mouth close enough to my hands to get the fork into it. It was embarrassing, but far from the worst thing I have experienced.

When dinner was over, Erin brought out a small pill container. "This is Viagra. Jim doesn't really need it, but then again, I think it will enhance our play tonight."

Jim took the pill with a little wine, and we retired to the living room.

As we sat down, Jason casually said, "I think we should have our property undress, don't you?"

Erin agreed of course. Unquestioningly, I stood and begin removing my clothes, though the waist chain made it extremely difficult. Jason kindly unlocked and removed it, and I finished slipping my dress off, then my panties and bra. I stood naked for all to see, and lowered my head. My long hair covered my face until I remembered my etiquette and pushed it back so the two owners could see me.  I blushed a little but knelt before Jason in a submissive posture, knees spread and hands on thighs. He approved then patted the couch next to him. Honored, I sat next to him, naked, but no longer in a position of submission.

"Now, then, Jim. Please remove your clothes." Erin commanded Jim in an uncompromising tone. Jim stood in the middle of the living room and removed his clothes for us all to see. It was the first time I had seen him completely naked, and was impressed. He kept himself in very good shape for Erin, and I couldn't help but loving it.  His genitals were secured in the cage I had seen before, though his cock was bulging out a little. It looked uncomfortable.

Jason reached over to my lap and began idly stroking my pussy. I obediently opened my legs for him. It felt good to have him touch me, though it was always a little awkward being used in front of others.

Erin had Jim turn around a few times, exposing himself to us. She examined him, had him bend over and spread his legs, and then stand before us with legs spread, his cock cage dangling down. She teased him some, kissing him deeply, rubbing her body against his and even touching his dangling scrotum. His cock continued to expand inside the hard plastic, flesh bulging out and straining against captivity.

Finally, Erin took the key from where it hung between her breasts, pulled it over her head and knelt before her slave. She inserted the key into the lock and removed the base of the structure. Jim sighed as he felt the cage loosening, and closed his eyes, cherishing the moment. Next Erin grabbed the short tube that covered his cock and pulled. It took some effort to get it off, it was so tight. Finally is slipped off and his cock rose quickly into a solid, hard, erect form.

Erin moved around behind Jim and handcuffed his wrists so that he could not reach forward or touch his genitals. Jim stood submissive, though slightly puzzled.

I guess I must have been staring and showing my fascination, and maybe I was just a little bit wet. Jason could feel my body self lubricating as he stroked me, and the quickening of my breath as I saw Jim's huge cock finally free for the first time.

"What do you think, Siobhan? I think you like Jim uncaged." Jason asked in a low voice.

"Oh, Jason... please forgive me. Yes, he is well endowed, I can't help but admire. It's fun to see him finally free!" I said honestly.

"Well, would you like to feel him inside you?" Jason asked.

I flushed and hung my head. The question was difficult. I didn't want to answer. It actually hurt my feelings a bit that he had asked. "Please, Jason, I don't want anyone inside me but you. I am yours, and you are all I truly desire."

"I see. But you would take him if I instructed you to." Jason asked pointedly.

Erin had turned and was listening to our exchange. Jim stood still in the middle of the room, naked, his rock hard cock pulsing slightly with his beating heart. I thought for a moment.

"Of course, Jason. I am obedient to you. I would always do as you instruct, for your pleasure. But if I may be honest with you... I am yours. I want no one but you. Seeing Jim like this is arousing, yes. But I have no wish to be used by anyone but you."

"Very well, Siobhan. I understand. Here is how I wish to use you. I wish to use you to assist Jim in his quest for an orgasm. Erin and I will watch and enjoy. You may use any means you wish. Your hands. Your mouth. Your breasts. Your ass. Your pussy. Lube. No lube. Give us a good show. Show us your skills." Jason commanded me and I knew what I had to do.

Erin spoke up, "Yes, I think that is fitting. However, I have a one thing to add.  I must insist that you stimulate him but not allow him to ejaculate for one hour. Jason and I want a good show. After one hour you may allow him to cum. If he comes before one hour, both you and he will be punished. Is this clear?"

I was pretty certain I could do this. I can edge a man well, though I had never done it with Jim. It would be a challenge to read him, make sure I didn't go too far. Regardless, it didn't matter. This was what I was instructed to do and I would have to do it.

"Yes, ma'am." I said.

"That's my good girl," Jason added. He stopped stroking my pussy, and I stood and went over to Jason. The sight of his lean, muscular body before me had turned me on, and I could feel I was wet.  I sort of wanted him and wondered if I could or should allow him inside, as Jason had given me permission. On the other hand, I was Jason's, and never really wanted anyone but him. Instead I focused my mind on how to tease and stimulate Jim without bringing him to orgasm.

I knelt before him, and took his scrotum in my hand, pulling gently. He moaned quietly as I fondled the two firm blobs of flesh inside, not painfully but firmly. I took them into my mouth and tasted his salty flesh, working my tongue and lips around, filling my mouth with his balls. It was sort of fun, angling below him, watching his hips sort of shake a little as I teabagged him. His cock stood straight out as hard and erect as any I had ever seen. I think the viagra had really taken hold.

"You may play with yourself, if you wish, Siobhan," Jason said. At first I didn't. It felt weird, being naked in front of Erin like this, especially as I was working on her husband. After a while though, the whole situation sort of got me going. I mean, I am submissive. It is what I am. Being ordered to get naked and masturbate myself in front of two clothed, observing people, was a turn on. Not to mention I was working on Jim's privates, exploring every part of his body between his legs except for his hardened cock.

So eventually, I did. One hand slipped between my legs and I began rubbing, even slipping one finger inside.

After working on his balls and lapping his thighs I began to nuzzle my way between his ass cheeks. My tongue found his puckering anus, and slowly, insistently, pushed. His sphincter contracted and released, and it felt good to know I was making his body react. It didn't taste good (in fact it tasted like crap), but it was my job to use my best skills to stimulate Jim without bringing him to orgasm for one hour and I was determined to do a good job.

Jim was having trouble standing as I worked on him, still not touching his cock. His breathing came faster and he rocked back and forth. I could tell he wanted his cock touched for he shifted his hips slightly to try and get it to touch my hair or face when it came close. He was desperate for sensation and stimulation.

"May I have him lay back now?" I asked Erin politely.

"Yes, please." Erin was smiling, and I saw that she had moved closer to my husband. Their legs were touching as they watched me teasing Jim. It worried me a bit, but I returned my attention to Jim, sitting him down on a love seat that was close to the sofa where Erin and Jason were discretely touching each other.

Jim had a spot of pre-cum glistening at the tip of his cock. I reached out and spread it slowly over the sensitive head, and then stroked slowly down. He gasped, feeling a woman's hand stroking him for the first time in months. I could feel the muscles between his legs contracting. He was already nearing climax, I knew I would have to be careful.

"Spread your legs, Siobhan, I want to see your cunt." Jason ordered me quietly, but with a voice that allowed no disobedience. I did as I was told. I was on my knees, leaning against the chair in which Jim leaned back with legs wide apart, so I slid my knees farther apart and angled my hips so my wet pussy could be seen easily by my husband and next door neighbor. My back was to them now.

My fingers stroked Jim's cock slowly. Whenever I felt a pulsing that indicated he might be getting too close to a climax, I immediately withdrew my hand. A few times, Jim moaned with frustration when I did this, but he knew as well as I that if he came in less than an hour, both he and I would be punished. We didn't want to be punished. It's never pleasant.

Finally I took his cock in my mouth, my lips surrounding his head and moving about slightly, tongue sliding along the bottom of his shaft. Then with a sudden movement I deep throated him. I am good at this. Jason has trained me, and over time I have learned to suppress the gag reflex and take a cock all the way down to my vocal chords if needed. As Jim felt his cock sink deep inside my face he thrust his hips, arched his back and moaned loudly.

I panicked; I didn't know how long it had been and I was worried Jim would spurt cum into my throat right then. I opened wide and pulled back, watching his cock as it bounced. I was relieved when only a tiny dribble came out. It was not precum, it was white, but there had been no orgasm as evidenced by Jim's frustrated growl. If his hands had been free I am sure he would have grabbed my head and forced it down on him right then.

His cock continued to bounce for a while, and cum dribbled out, sliding down the shaft a little at a time. The look on Jim's face was one of complete frustration. He was struggling, trying to get his hands around to his cock, but couldn't.

I realized that he had just had a ruined orgasm. A nasty one, too. An orgasm that had been held in chastity, locked away for over two months, teased and pulled from him (by me) and finally ready to blow. Then suddenly, stimulation removed, full pleasure not achieved, cum slowly squeezed out in dribbles.

Poor guy.

I turned and saw that Jason and Erin were sitting close to each other, their hands on each other. My husband's cock was out being stroked by Erin's hand, and he had his hand buried in her pants and I could see his fingers working her clit. They were having fun watching me perform with Jim. Seeing Jim suffering just made it more fun for them.

My face burned, seeing the two of them pleasuring each other. I was jealous. Yes, I had just spent a significant time masturbating Jim and giving him a blow job, but I had been instructed to. It was for their benefit, not mine. Seeing Erin with her hand on Jason's cock made my blood run warm. I said nothing, though. Jason is my master and I am not to question him.

"That was only 43 minutes. Nowhere near an hour," Erin said, looking at her watch. In doing so she had to remove her hand from my husband's cock, much to my satisfaction.

"But Erin, I didn't orgasm. She stopped. That was totally ruined, I didn't get off at all!" Jim's voice was a mix of frustration and whine.

"Well, from my perspective, Jim, you have a cock and balls covered with cum; that means you came." Erin got up and walked over to her naked husband, slid one finger up his still erect penis and licked.

"Yep, that's my husband's cum. I recognize the taste. You came, and in less than the one hour time limit. I was prepared to let you have some time out of your cage, but now.... well, you just can't control yourself. I guess it will be back inside for you!"

Erin went into the kitchen for a moment, and Jim sat glumly on the chair, legs spread, cock still hard though no longer pulsing. He was facing more time locked in chastity, and after having come so close to orgasm. I felt truly sorry for him. I sat on the couch next to Jason and leaned next to him, whispering in his ear.

"I did the best I could, really. I read him well. Please keep that in mind when you punish me."

Jason whispered back, "Don't worry Siobhan. I saw how well you did. I think your punishment might consist of allowing me to fuck you tonight, and then sleep in my arms."

"Ohh!" I caught my breath at this and lowered my head. That was no punishment, it was my dearest delight to be taken by my man, and then held by him after.

Jim, on the other hand, sat still as Erin returned from the kitchen with a bowl filled with ice and water. She knelt before Jim as he obediently placed his cock and balls into the freezing cold, sucking air in between his teeth from the temperature shock. It must have hurt, leaving his genitals in the ice as it slowly melted, and his cock slowly shriveled. The viagra was fighting the ice, but eventually lost. The shriveled remnant of erection disappeared, and his penis hung limp and numb from the cold.

I think I saw a tear trickle down one cheek as Erin took the male chastity device and slid it back on. Jim turned his head away when the lock clicked into place. Who knew how long before he would be free again? Erin was a bitch to him. I was happy that I was owned by Jason.

A while later I had put my clothes back on to walk back to our house, this time without the restraints. I felt proud to be by Jason's side, free and unrestrained, holding his hand.  Once inside our home I removed my clothes and we went to bed. Jason did as he promised, fucking me twice, unrestrained so that I could wrap my arms and legs around him and hold him close. After the second time we spooned, and I drifted off to sleep wrapped in my owner's protective arms.