Thursday, November 12, 2015


I love Halloween. I love to dress up, I love the kids and the excitement, and the preoccupation with the mysterious and ghostly. I love horror movies and ghost stories. I also love candy.

And I love parties. Fetish parties. There is always a good fetish party on Halloween. This year it was at our friend Matt's. It is, of course, a costume party in addition to being a fetish party. The costumes people wear are pretty much to die for. Many of them are not street legal.

The party isn't an orgy or anything, though sexual things happen there all the time. It just isn't expressly for the purpose of sex; it's for the purpose of having some cool fun with costumes and other fetishists.

Jason prepared my costume this year. Usually he dictates what I wear to parties, pretty much, but this year he wouldn't even tell me what my costume was until the night of the party. We spent the evening giving out candy to the kiddies at the door. I was dressed normally, except for bare feet and no bra; I'm not allowed shoes or bra in the house most of the time. But my top was discreet and it was all cool.

At 8:30 we turned the lights out in the front, and turned most of the ones off inside, too. Jason told me to go to the bathroom and empty my bladder, and then go to the family room and remove all my clothing and wait there. This might seem strange to you, but I am used to having my body functions supervised by Jason when he desires it and I didn't think too much of it. I peed then went into the family room where I stripped, folding all my clothes neatly on the side table next to the TV and stood in the middle of the room, waiting for my husband and master.

Jason returned to the family room with a whole stack of clothing, folded and piled neatly. It was all black leather, or pleather in some cases. One or two of the items I recognized, others I didn't, as they were folded up and not recognizable.

Jason produced a container of baby powder. "Please apply this to your body, Siobhan. Make sure you put it everywhere, for your own comfort."

I took him seriously and started rubbing the baby powder all over my naked skin, starting with my shoulders, arms, my breasts, sides, stomach, finally my hips, between my legs, my ass, and my legs.

"Jason, could you do my back, please?"

"Sure," and Jason powdered my back.

"Now, put this on first." Jason handed me the first  and largest item of leather clothing. It was a catsuit. Zippered, form fitting, beautiful leather.

"Oh, Jason, this... this is wonderful. I love it!" I am sure my face was beaming, the suit had to have cost a fortune. That much custom leather and latex isn't cheap. I felt so privileged.

"Of course, Siobhan, and I know you are going to look fantastic in it. Get it on, please."

I slipped my legs in first. It was tight, and a bit of a struggle. It was designed to form fit my body tightly and smoothly and while it fit perfectly, there was still some effort to pull it on. Once my legs were in and the material adjusted to cover my legs I lifted the body portion up and began struggling my arms in. They went in a little easier, especially with Jason tugging and helping.

The suit felt sexy just going on. Sexy in a very kinky way; it was tight and confining, form fitting so it emphasized the exact shape of my body. The powder helped it feel comfortable as it went on. The quality of the material was amazing, there were no nasty stitch points that irritated skin and it was supple.

Jason zipped the body of the suit closed, and the leather tightened and hugged my body. It felt amazing. We tugged and moved the top a bit to get my breasts just right. I have reasonable sized C cup breasts, and the suit emphasized them beautifully. I was giggling like a little girl with a new party dress I was so excited.

"OK, let's do these next." Jason handed me boots. Ballet boots. Bondage ballet boots, with spiked heels that went... I don't know how far up but they were the tallest heels I would ever have worn. Jason had been thoughtful and provided me with some ankle socks that went on before the boots. Once they were on we slid the boots over my feet, which I pointed down to conform to the natural shape of the boots. It took effort to get the tight fitting material on, though the real tightening happened when they were laced.

The catsuit was actually confining and made some movement difficult. Bending over wasn't easy at all, so Jason tightened the boot laces for me as I sat on the couch. The laces ran halfway up my thighs, and when laced hugged my feet, ankles and legs tightly.

I tried standing on them, wobbled, and went right back down on the couch. "Wow... I've worn these before, but it has been a long time and these are really high. I am going to have to work to get used to them!"

"Good. I don't mind if you wobble a bit. They aren't supposed to allow you to run around. Their purpose is actually to make movement more difficult, as a form of bondage." Jason was admiring them.

I felt sexier every minute.

Jason produced the next item. An armbinder. This binder was one that we had owned for some time, and I was familiar with. A somewhat cruel device, it brought my arms together behind my back in a single sleeve. While this was no worse than having wrists cuffed behind your back, when the leather was laced up it squeezed and pressed arms together. If the laces were pulled all the way, my arms would be pressed together all the way to the elbow. This is uncomfortable, especially for long periods, though not unbearable.

My arms placed obediently behind me, Jason slipped on the armbinder sleeve and pulled it up. Two straps went around my shoulders to prevent me from trying to wriggle the binder off later. He began pulling the laces tight, starting at the bottom, moving to the top, bringing my arms together.

Armbinders are a strange experience for me; they don't feel comfortable and are very confining. But the also pull my shoulders back, which causes me to thrust my breasts out and emphasize them, which makes me feel sexy. I think they emphasize my body and ultimately I feel both uncomfortable and very sensuous in them.

When Jason had tied the last laces at the top my arms were pressed tightly together behind my back and movement was clearly getting much more difficult. The armbinder was extremely tight and added to the overall feeling of my entire body being completely encased in form fitting leather.

"Jason, we are going to the party, right? I am not sure how easily I will be able to get around in this."

"Don't worry Siobhan, you will do fine and I will be there to guide and help. Let's get the next item on."

He reached over to the dwindling pile of leather and extracted a gag. It was a small gag that had a little stubby penis shape that went in my mouth and a small strap / buckle that fastened behind my head.

"Any last words, Siobhan? You won't be able to speak much after this goes on."

"I love you Jason. I trust you to take care of me. I hope I look sexy for you tonight."

Jason kissed me lovingly, and then I held my mouth open and the gag went in. He buckled it behind my head.

At this point I was pretty much done; with my arms bound behind and feet in ballet boots there was very little I could do, and the gag would prevent me from communicating much. I had been transformed into his plaything, which was OK with me. It made me feel good.

I stood and waited, feeling excited by the restraints of my outfit.

The next item was a posture collar. Not a severe one, but one that would keep my head and chin straight. It was quite stiff. Jason wrapped it around my neck, and buckled it behind. It didn't prevent all head movement, but did make it tougher. Jason checked my breathing, had me walk just a bit while he held on to my arm to keep me from falling, and was satisfied.

There was a surprise next. Earplugs. I grunted and squeeled just a bit from behind my gag as I felt the soft rubber going into my ears and then slowly expand to seal them tight. I think my face showed my consternation as my hearing slowly went away, because Jason watched and smiled, knowing what I was experiencing.

And then for the final, crowning touch, the hood went on. A new leather hood slid over my head, was pulled tight against my face, and I felt laces being tightened in the back. The hood had no eyes or mouth, only air holes for the nose.

As I lost my sight, I realized the outfit was designed to not only make it very difficult to move but also insulated me from feeling most touch, from hearing, from seeing and from tasting. I was lost in a bondage world of isolated blackness. All I felt and was aware of were the tugs and jerks on my head as Jason tied the hood tight and finished the knots.

I think I panicked just a little right then, squirming against the armbinder and attempting to take a few steps in the ridiculously high ballet boots. Tears welled up in my eyes, unseen and invisible, and a quiet sob was stopped by the gag in my mouth. Then I felt Jason's hands grabbing my arms, keeping me upright and stable. I relaxed, breathed through my nose and let myself drop into subspace, completely trusting and giving myself to my master and owner.

Jason sat me down for a bit. He spoke to me and I discovered I could hear through the earplugs if someone spoke close to my ear, clearly and loudly.

"Stay seated here, I am going to get ready for the party myself, and then we can leave."

"Mgmmmgmmmphhh." I said.

And I was alone. Sitting, able to move but with difficulty, arms tightly bound behind my back, my senses stunted and covered. About the only sense I had unfettered was smell, and there was little to smell.

Waiting was tedious. I shifted position, got used to the various pinch points in the folds of leather encasing my body, and experimented with how much I could move my arms (not much). I was able to move my head back some, and side to side, though the collar kept my head in an upright position.

And I waited. Being alone in the blackness like that was disconcerting, but endurable.

Suddenly I felt Jason take hold of my collar, and fiddle with it, and then my collar was pulled, gently but firmly. He had attached a leash and was pulling me up.

I stood, and followed the pull of the leash, stepping carefully, walking in the ballet boots. We walked through the house and out into the garage where I was stopped. I stood and waited.

Hands gently pushed me down into a bent over position. I complied, trying to do as commanded by the prodding and pulling. I felt the car against my leg, as turned, and forced into a seated position, and then pushed gently over.

Jason drives an SUV and I was being placed in the back, laying down in the cargo area. It made sense. I couldn't be seen riding in the front all bound up and hooded, even on Halloween; Jason didn't want the cops called. I curled up on the floor and heard the muffled slam of the SUV hatch closing.

The party wasn't far, only about a mile, and the ride was comfortable. When the car parked and was turned off, the hatch was opened and the collar pulled, announcing it was time to wriggle and slide out of the back of the car. Jason helped, guiding my legs until I was standing. A bit of the colder air from outside seeped in through the leather, though I was pretty insulated.

Jason gave my crotch a quick squeeze.

"Mggmmgmm." I said.

The collar pulled me along and we entered the house. At least I assumed so.

I was completely blind, in the dark. I could tell whether I was walking on carpet or tile, but otherwise, had little clue to my environment or surroundings. I could, however, hear muffled sounds of the party. There were people nearby, though I could not hear what they were saying or even how many there were.

It felt incredibly strange to be at this party, surrounded by people, but unable to see or really hear them. Interacting with them was impossible. I was essentially Jason's display item. I stood on my toes, waiting, doing nothing but breathing and trying to interpret the few sounds that came through to my ears.

My collar jerked and I moved off into another area of the room, where I was stopped. I stood there, waiting.

I knew I was being observed, that my body was tightly fitted with the body catsuit, and that people would be admiring the outfit, but I had no idea who, what they were saying, or what was happening. I just stood, and waited.

The whole experience was both humiliating and arousing. I think I was soaked between my legs before too long.

I occasionally felt others brush up against me, or bump. The room was clearly full of people. They were drinking, having fun while I simply stood like a leather statue. I recognized a hand squeezing my left breast, and then the right. I didn't know if it was Jason or not.

Someone else felt my body, sliding down the side and between my legs. I reacted a little; with my arms bound behind me there was little I could do but my legs naturally came together, which almost knocked me off balance because of my precarious position on the toe boots.

The prodding and fondling went on for some time, coming in waves and then going away for a while. Then without warning, another hand would slide over my ass and feel my shape. I learned not to react but just let it go. I was completely helpless.

I needed to pee. Yes, I had gone before dressing in this outfit, but heck, it had been a couple of hours and my bladder had filled. What could I do? I sort of grunted at Jason, assuming he was nearby. At first nothing happened but then I felt the leash pull me in a direction and I teetered off following the pull.

It wasn't easy to get me ungagged because the hood was laced tight, but Jason did it. We were in a side room, a bedroom that was relatively private. Jason seemed unhappy.

"What is going on Siobhan. Are you OK?"

"I'm OK, more or less, the suit is hot and I'm sweating underneath, but I really need to pee."

"What? I told you to empty yourself before we left the house! I should let you pee in your suit and deal with it!"

"I did Jason. I did. You know I did. I can't help it if my bladder fills in the meantime, it's a normal human function!" I sort of snapped back at him.

Jason was really unhappy. "Siobhan, we are going to discuss this later, and not spoil the party. For now, let's go to the restroom there. I'd let you stew in your own urine but I don't want to stink up the party for the others."

He led me over to a side door and opened it. I knew taking the catsuit off was going to be a major problem.

There was a solution to the problem. The suit had a zipper, conveniently located between my legs and over my crotch. Jason unzipped, and when I spread my legs my pussy was well exposed. I sat on the toilet as Jason watched me relieve myself.

The armbinder didn't allow me to care for myself, so Jason kindly wiped my cunt with toilet paper. I stood and he zipped my cunt back up inside.

I was just thanking Jason, "Thank you, I'm sor----"

When the gag was shoved back in, and the hood was put back on, and laced nice and tight. Once again I was in darkness, simply following the lead of the leash as he pulled it along.

For another interminable period of time, who knows how long, I stood in various spots and did nothing but wait, and feel strangers occasionally grope my body. My ears started ringing and I saw patterns of light from the sensory deprivation. Sometimes I felt people grope and grab my body and then realized I was imagining it. I wondered if I was losing my mind.

At one point I was seated on a soft couch after having been led from one point to another. Jason (at least I assume it was Jason) forced my legs apart and I felt my crotch zipper being opened. I new the flesh of my pussy was the only part of me exposed now, and anyone in the room would be viewing it. I waited obediently, with my legs spread.

Fingers felt my pussy lips, sliding up and down. I was wet, I had been wet all evening, both from arousal and sweat, so the fingers slid easily, and then slid in. They felt like Jason's. I sincerely hoped they were. If they weren't there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

Then I felt a cock. The unmistakable feeling of a cock head pressing against my labia, spreading my lips, pushing
in, gently but firmly. I grunted through the gag as it slid in deeper, spreading me wide. I tried to feel and see if it was Jason's. Again, I hoped it was Jason's. It could have been Jason's, it was the right size.

The cock started pushing in and out of me, and I began moving my hips in rhythm. I heard people, as if there was an audience talking excitedly while someone fucked me, but by then I couldn't tell whether I was imagining it or not. I couldn't hear well enough, and had been hearing strange noises I knew were in my brain because of sensory deprivation.

Fingers massaged my clit as the cock pounded deep inside me, and a short while later I had an orgasm, grunting and wriggling against the tight leather that surrounded me. The cock wasn't done though, and continued pumping until it suddenly withdrew. I suspected, though I had no way to tell, that whomever it was, was spurting white sticky fluid over some part of my leather catsuit.

I sure hoped it was Jason. I was pretty sure it was, though I didn't know if others were in the room watching the show.

My crotch was zipped back up, and after a little while I was pulled up and we resumed visiting party goers that I could not see or hear, but occasionally felt.

A little while later I was pressed and made to spread my legs slightly. I felt something around my hips, barely feeling it through the leather, but after a moment I recognized it. A strapon. At least I assumed it was; it felt like a strapon harness. I've used them many times before and know the feel. I had no doubt that I had acquired an artificial cock.

The leash pulled me a few feet ahead and then hands gripped my hips. I could feel that I was being carefully positioned. I felt resistance on my hips, the end of the dildo pressing into the harness and just above my pussy. It was getting inserted into someone, I didn't know who.

Suddenly, I got a sharp whack on my ass and I reacted, instinctively, by moving my hips forward. Yes, there was resistance and I had undoubtedly just impaled someone. I pulled back a bit, and knowing what they were after began a rocking motion with my hips.

My legs were spread slightly, because the strapon had a crotch strap, plus with those ballet boots I needed the stability, I could fall over at any moment. I pushed back and forth, shoving the dildo into whomever was in front of me, over and over. I felt his/her hips, but couldn't tell whether it was male or female. The leather deadened any detailed sensations.

This went on for about 5 minutes when I felt another smack on my ass, several in a row, and I picked up thrusting speed. It appeared that whomever I was fucking was getting close to orgasm.

And then it was over. I was pulled back and stood motionless. Someone did something to the dildo of the strapon, I couldn't tell what and then I was guided back and felt the same pressure and resistance. Someone else wanted to be fucked. Well, OK. I could do that.

I give this person a good fucking, pushing hard. I am almost certain it was a girl because the hips and ass I kept bumping against were small. I had no idea how big the dildo was, but didn't care. If I was being used this way, I was going to give it my all. I shoved and pushed harder and faster until I felt someone stop me and pull me back. Whomever I was fucking had had enough.

The strapon was removed and I stood waiting, once again. The distant sounds of the party were continuing around me.

My legs were aching from having moved around and standing in the ballet boots. Standing on your toes, even in supportive boots, can really hurt, and my calves were burning. I was moving my head, the only part of me I could really move much, back and forth, frustrated with the pain and physical exhaustion.

Finally, finally, the leash pulled me and I walked carefully some distance. The cold air of the night seeped into my costume through some cracks, so I knew we were leaving. I felt the car bumper, and with Jason's help maneuvered into place in the back cargo area.

A few minutes later we were home, I was inside, and Jason was removing my hood and gag. It was such a relief!. I breathed deeply (the hood air holes worked, but didn't allow for deep breaths), and shook my head, scattering my hair about.

"Thank you! Thank you Jason, that feels so good to get off!"

Jason began removing the armbinder. "You did generally well, Siobhan. I know you couldn't tell but you were... well... the life of the party. The focus of attention."

The armbinder slid off and I carefully moved my arms, loosening my shoulders. The muscles needed to be stretched back out, but gently.

"Really? I could not hear much, but kept feeling people touching me. Please... tell me that was you that fucked me?"

"Of course, dear, that was me. Other than that, I am not going to share any of the details with you. I think it is more fun for you to never know exactly what happened tonight."

"What??? Oh, please Jason! What happened? Who grabbed me? Who was I fucking with that strapon?" I begged him as he undid the ballet boots.

"Nope, Siobhan. You are my owned property, and I used you tonight as I please, and there is no need for you to know. I think this is an object lesson, something that will enhance your obedience. You not only need to obey, you need to accept you may not always know everything that happens around you, or even to you."

Well, that was frustrating. Still, I understood. I stepped out of the catsuit and felt the cool air hit my naked body. It felt more wonderful than anything I could remember, just then.

"Oh... that feels good. Oh, my god, that feels good." I spread my arms and turned around, feeling fresh air, seeing things, hearing things, feeling good and carefree.

"I can make you feel better, Siobhan." Jason put his arm around my waist, pulled me to him, and kissed me deeply while one hand went between my legs and slid across my wet pussy.

I melted into his arms, and let him take me.


  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

  2. Hey Polly someone is taking your post and posting them as theyre own, I reported them but..
    Here is link
    Im sorry thats happening, Btw love your blog

  3. he should have cum in you and zipped the suit back up.

  4. Catsuit,gag,hood, it doesn't get better than this.keep writing stories like this.