Rediscovering Self Bondage

It's been a week since I invoked the safe word and effectively ended the slave relationship I have had with Jason.

I'm devastated. It's my responsibility, I did it, it was my choice. I didn't have to. There was nothing bad going on physically, I was locked in a leg spreading bracket, unable to move, but it didn't hurt and the discomfort was mild.

It was the mental anguish. The anguish of my owner, my husband, letting other men take me. It is honestly difficult for me to understand, because I have fucked many men in my life, some of them rather disgusting. I've allowed a guy that was probably near 60 years old to tie me up and abuse me and then fuck me any way he wanted. So what was so different about this?

Bondage and submission is just so complex. It's nuanced, it's about the subtle interplay between two people and how one gives up control to another. Power exchange, the process of letting someone else have the power. Frankly, it's in the mind.

That principle was core, is core, to the relationship I had with Jason, and yet he broke me. My mind broke, really. I ended up taking the power back.

I spent the last week in a motel, and have arranged for an apartment. I move into it this weekend.

Being alone is really, really hard. There are a couple of girlfriends, including Diane from across the street, who have spent some time with me, supporting me. She's a dear, even if she is a bit self-centered. Erin has helped a bit, but she's a hard core domme and has been only partially understanding.

The hotel is a nice place, not like a Four Seasons but better than a Motel 6, you know?  Point is it has turn down service in the evenings, which is kind of dumb for me, but hey...  Anyway.  I am working, of course, and get back to the hotel sometime around 6 - 7.

But the weirdest thing has happened here at the hotel.

I'm really going through bondage withdrawals, I am so used to being tied up and dominated and hurt, the complete absence of any bondage at all is like suddenly weening myself off opiates. I can't stand it. It's like removing Jason from my life has gutted me and not wearing a collar and cuffs or being suspended and stretched from the ceiling is just rubbing it in, making it even more painful.

To tell you the truth I was in a real depression and was circling the drain toward doing something like cutting, or some other sort of self harm. I would get to the hotel in the evening and strip, spend the entire evening naked because I was so used to coming home and conforming to Jason's rules.

I needed an outlet, something that reconnected me with my inner self and the self that had been part of me since I was quite young, long before that Bastard Jason.

So, I decided to re-engage in some of the self bondage that used to be so frequent in my teens and very early 20s, before I began really turning myself over to guys to dominate me. The technology for self bondage has advanced a lot during the last 15 years or so, but most of it is only available through the internet. I wanted to get started right away and didn't have time or space to order equipment.

I would have preferred to use cuffs, locks, straps, panel gags and harnesses, but Jason had every bit of my bondage paraphernalia. Well, his paraphernalia that he used on me. I guess it isn't mine any more.

As a result, I had to make do with some basic rope techniques. There was a Home Depot on the way back to the hotel and I stopped to get the rope the third day I was in the hotel.

To be honest, it has been a while since I did this. Tying one's self up isn't that hard, really. But tying one's self up securely in a way that makes it impossible to get free, while at the same time leaving a method or escape path to getting free-- it's a contradiction in terms that requires a bit of thought and practice. The best way to get free is to have a lock that can be undone with a timer, such as ice or a timed lockbox.

Rope is a lot tougher. You either have to leave a way to undo the tie, in which case you are not actually secured thoroughly which makes the whole thing feel like a cheat and crappy, or you have to set some barrier between you and a blade of some sort to cut the rope. Or a candle to burn through it but that is dangerous because candles can go out (I learned that at 17).

Well, I had room service steak the second night I was in the hotel and kept the steak knife. That was my way out. I put it in the bathroom, on the counter, and closed the door. I figured that would be enough of an obstacle, which it was, considering how I was going to tie myself. (That was a mistake, by the way, one I realized later. The steak knife was hard to handle and would have taken forever to cut through the rope. I should have gotten some solid wire cutters or shears when I bought the rope).

About 7:00, after I ate room service and was relaxed, I stripped down to nothing. It felt good to be naked, even if it was in private. The anticipation was enough to get me wet, and I knelt on the bed and rubbed my clit for a while with the rope laying on the bed in front of me. I stopped before cumming though, I wanted to be at full arousal for my bondage session; it was hard to stop. I hadn't had an orgasm in three days.

The first part was easy. I sat on the bed with my legs together, looped the rope into a double strand and slipped it around my ankles, back through the loop in the opposite direction and around again, cinching it tight. Then looping the rope around the center between my ankles and they were nicely secured. Easy-peasy.

Next, the same rope up to my knees, around once and hooked through the strand from the bottom, back around the opposite direction and around once in the middle, tightening. Wow, it felt good and my legs were tightly done. No way to get out of that.

The trailing length of rope from my knee tie I pushed aside and did a quick chest harness. Not too hard, just around the shoulders and above and below my breasts, then tied in front. Once my wrists were secured behind me it would be impossible to undo.

Now for the hard part. I had taken a single strand of rope and created a double cinch, a classic self-bondage set of loops that allow one to put their wrists in and then tighten. Once tightened, the rope doesn't loosen (if done properly) and you are truly secured. No way out.

The prepared double cinch rope went around the back of the chest harness and was tied there. That was a tough part, reaching back and getting that secured, but I was able to do it on the side then slip it around to the center, between my shoulder blades. No fancy knot needed, the harness served as the anchor. I might be able to get to that knot, but would require me to raise my hands all the way up behind me and that wasn't going to happen, and granny knots don't come undone once tightened.

I lay on my stomach on the bed. I was almost done. First... I stuffed my mouth with a cotton wash cloth from the background. Ugh. It was not going to be comfortable; it was going to soak up my drool inside and dry my mouth out. I gagged once putting it in. A short strip of rope went around my face and was tied behind my head to hold the gag in place.

The whole process of tying myself up was exciting me no end. I mean, it was bringing back times when I was 16 years old just learning and exploring my kink, trying new things and discovering just how sexually aroused I was by the process. And the feeling of helplessness. And later, the feelings of discomfort and actual pain that came from being tied helplessly.

Before going further I got a vibrator I had and inserted it between my legs. My knees were tied together, so my thighs were tight together. I managed to squeeze the vibrator in and turn it on. Yes.... I did not need that stimulation to get off from self bondage, it was an end in itself; but the vibrator was icing on the cake. I moaned a bit and wiggled, feeling the vibrator do it's job on my pussy.

Finally, the other end of the rope I tied to the rope between my ankles, after bending my knees to get my ankles up as far as I could. The result was a strand of rope that was tied to my chest harness at the top, and my ankles at the bottom. The cinch loops were in the middle and I was straining to keep my knees bent and as far up in back of me as possible so they wouldn't close the cinch loops and make this whole thing for nothing.

The last piece. Both wrists behind me, right above the small of my back. The cinch loops had closed some and were hard to get on. I shoved my left fingers in, being careful not to close the other loop, and wriggled in. Once the left wrist was in, I did the same with the right. It took a little effort, but finally I was in place.

All it took was for me to relax my legs and the rope behind my back pulled the cinches tight, and my wrists were inescapably tied behind me.

Holy crap. I lay there, face in the pillows of the bed, feeling the vibrator, testing the ropes, my heart beating, panting, aroused, excited, and frankly... I felt like a little girl again.

I mean, how perverted is that, right? Laying naked in a self tied hogtie in a hotel room, rocking my hips against a vibrator tucked between my legs... and I felt like a 16 year old.

My hips kept rocking back and forth rather as if I were humping someone underneath me. The gag muffled the cries of my first orgasm, which ended in tears. I am not sure why the tears, but I am not a stranger to them. But I'd never cried after a self induced orgasm, or one with a guy for that matter. It had only happened before with girls I had made love to.

Anyway, the vibrator was still going and asking if I wanted another one. I thought about it but decided I might as well try getting loose now, since this was the first time I had done this in a long time and I didn't know how long it would take me. Just damn it was fun though. I do not understand why I like being tied up and having things done to me, but I do.

Anyway, I sort of rolled over to the side of the bed and looked down. To get to the knife I was going to have to roll off the bed (I hadn't thought about that while tying myself) then squirm to the bathroom door, somehow get onto my knees and twist the handle to get the door open then crawl inside, push myself onto the toilet somehow and then knock the knife off the counter onto the floor. After which I could begin sawing away at the ropes.

It was really  obvious that I hadn't done this in a long time because my first obstacle, falling off the bed onto the floor in a hogtie position, was looking intimidating. I could break a bone. What the hell was I thinking? And I had done too good a job of tying the hogtie-- my ankles were pulled way up behind me and my back was arched, and my wrists and hands were hurting because wriggling around had tightened the cinch ties even tighter.

I whimpered a bit to myself, the vibrator relentlessly trying to get me to orgasm again, and looked over the edge of the bed again. My hair hung down toward the floor and I began the slow wriggle toward the edge. The second obstacle of opening the door was going to be ten times harder.

There was a knock on the door.

My eyes went wide and I looked at the closed hotel door.

"'scuse meeee.... turn down service... housekeeping..."

Fuck. Well, fine. I didn't care if I had turn down service, I never understood the purpose behind that anyway, except for the little chocolates they left behind. My gag was going to stop me from telling her to go away, so I lay quietly.

Then the click of an electronic lock being released and the door handle turning. FFFuuuuCCCkkkkkk she had a key and I hadn't used the deadbolt she was coming in and was going to see me all tied up fffUUUcccKKKK....

The hair was hanging over my face as I turned to look at the maid as she entered. She entered then stopped for a second.

"Hmmmmgfggggggfffff."  I said, hoping she wasn't going to scream. "Hmmmsmfffhmphhhmmm..."

She did gasp, and stay very still for a moment, then moved quickly in, the room door closing behind her with a thunk.

Well, that hurdle was over. I was stark naked and tied tight, gagged, with a buzzing vibrator between my legs, but at least she hadn't called security.

"Are you all right?" she said in a Spanish accent. She was young, maybe 25 or so, younger than me, and rather pretty. I could see her face next to mine as she knelt next to me.

I nodded, calmly, trying to give off the aura that I was Not a Victim and she should remain calm. "Mmmemmpphjh."

Reaching behind my head she worked to undo the knot of the rope that held in the cloth gag. I was drooling, of course, and suddenly wondered if she would be mad or disgusted about me expelling body fluid all over her carpet. It is so strange what we think of when in the midst of weird and panicky situations.

The vibrator kept buzzing as she worked on the knot, and I couldn't help but squeeze and thrust my hips a couple of times. I mean, really... it felt good!

The nice maid had a lot of trouble with my knot. It must have been tighter than I thought, or she just wasn't used to knots, but she finally got it off. She pulled the cloth out of my mouth and I worked my jaw and tongue getting rid of the dry cloth-y taste and feel.

"Thank you, please don't be upset, I am not in trouble or anything, this is just..." My voice trailed off. How was I going to explain this?

"Do you want me to untie you?" she said hesitantly. That was a weird question to ask someone you encountered that was all tied up, and I realized this maid had probably seen a lot of weird stuff in her time being a hotel maid.

"Yes, yes, please. I have a knife in the bathroom I was going to use to cut the ropes, but..."

She began working on the knot of my chest harness.

"A knife? What good would it do in the bathroom? How did this happen? Who did this to you? Will... will he be coming back?" She said worriedly.

I shook my head as she finally got the harness knot untied and began unwrapping me.

"Can you remove the vibrator, please?"

She hesitated, looked between my legs then shook her head. "Please, ma'am, I would rather you do that."

She continued undoing knots. "Who did this to you?" she said again, still worried.

"I did it to myself," I explained. "I... tied myself up. Self bondage. People do it sometimes, it is a kind of kink."

She nodded. "I know many kinks. My boyfriend, he likes to use handcuffs when he fucks me. I... um, I don't like it so much."

She got another knot undone and it was easy for me to being unwrapping the ropes myself.

"Yeah. I like being tied up. When there is no guy to tie me up, I ..um... do it myself. I'm really sorry. Really..."

She stood back as I finished unwrapping ropes.

"Oh, it's OK. One time I found four guests all wrapped up together in bed. They tried to get me to join then, but... " she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "And I seen stuff before. My boyfriend, he watches the porno on the internets."

"Yeah. Well, I still apologize. Though you really saved me a lot of effort. Looking at the door, I think you are right, it would have been pretty hard for me to open it when I was tied up."

Actually, I was realizing I was probably damned lucky she had shown up. I had mis-estimated how much I could do while tied up.

"Look... " I looked at her name tag. "Estelle. Can I give you a tip if you won't tell anyone about this?"

I had moved to my purse, still naked. It didn't seem to bother her much, and I got the idea she had a little more experience with her boyfriend than she was telling me about. Pulling out two twenties, I gave them to her.

"I appreciate your helping and," I paused meaningfully, "your discretion."

She tucked the $40 in her maid's dress pocket and smiled. "Of course."

A thought struck me. "Say, Estelle. Do you always do turn down service on this floor?"

She nodded. "Si, Monday through Saturday, each evening."

I smiled, and nodded. "Well, I appreciate the service you provided tonight. Perhaps... you might be able to render me the same service tomorrow night."

She looked at me sideways, and I could tell she was fingering the forty bucks in her pocket.

"In fact, I think I would be very grateful, and you could expect another tip." I said.

Estelle nodded. "OK, ma'am. I come and do turn down service. I knock on every door. No answer, I come in, do turn down. I do this room too. Tomorrow."

I gently guided Estelle to the door. "That would be wonderful. My gratitude would be... very significant. Until tomorrow, then?"

I wanted her gone, I was so aroused by the situation, being discovered, the bondage, this cute maid, it all had come together and I swear I was flushing. I wanted to masturbate and she was keeping me from it.

"Thank you ma'am." She exited the door then stopped just as the door was closing. "Oh, and ma'am?"

She handed me two chocolates.

I think I had just discovered my self bondage escape timer.

During this whole evening, I hadn't thought about Jason once.

Safe Word

I don't know what to say. I guess it has been building for a while, and the shit hit the fan a couple of days ago.

A week ago things seemed to be slipping back into the old pattern. I was not allowed clothes at home, and Jason took me any way he wanted. His fucking has been a bit more aggressive and I had been sore from it, but that is very much normal for us and for me. I've been sore from a lot of things in my life, including dildos that were never intended to actually be inserted into a vagina. Having Jason grab me and force me down, taking me from behind and ramming roughly... it's normal.

And fun. I mean, this is what I have loved. I want to be submissive, I want my partner to control me, to use me. When he isn't tying me up I feel like something is wrong and a bit lost.

I know, I know. I am a sick puppy. I can't feel normal unless I know I am being abused and mistreated and restrained and used in some way.

The one thing that changed a bit was a sort of bracket bondage device that Jason got. I've been locked in devices of one sort or another many times. This one was a bit new. It had a sort of flat base where it rests on the ground, then a post in the back. There are two cuffs on the side of the post. My ankles go there.

Then from the post is a metal arm sticking forward. There are two metal cuffs on that, both rather loose. They have latches but frankly they don't need it given the position of the victim (me). The real thing that makes it inescapable is at the far end of the metal arm. Another metal loop, a collar.

The first evening I saw this, Jason took me into the play room and it was on the floor. He had set it up earlier in the evening.

"Siobhan, this is where you will be spending the night tonight."

"Yes, sir," I said. I wasn't happy about spending an entire night bracketed in something, it can cause cramping and loss of sleep, which impacts my job. On the other hand, it is my role in the marriage and I am obedient.

"Lay on your stomach on the base." Once I had laid down with the upright post between my legs near my pussy, Jason bent my knees and closed the ankle cuffs. The metal was cold on my stomach and ankles.

"Arms behind you," Jason instructed. He pulled my arms up, which created a mild strappado position with elbows close to each other and held in place with the brackets. At this point I was fairly secure, though the elbow and wrist cuffs were rather loose and with some struggling I probably could have gotten out.

Except then... Jason grabbed my hair and pulled my head up. The last piece slipped around my neck and clicked shut. That did it. Unable to move forward or back because of the stiff, unyielding position of my neck, the other restraints were inescapable.

"Am I to remain here all night, sir?" I asked.

"Yes. Tonight, and every night. I am instituting a new regimen of discipline to help you learn complete, unquestioning obedience. When you truly accept your position and owned property then we may move to another arrangement."

"Yes sir." I said.

"Mouth open." I opened my mouth and he inserted a ring gag with an inflatable insert. He pumped it up until my mouth was full, and left me there.

All night. Unable to move. Certainly not the first time, but it doesn't make it any easier. The thing that really got me was the collar, which held my head up off the ground and back slightly. I simply could not sleep in that position. If I relaxed too much the weight of my head pushed down on the collar and I choked. Not badly, but enough to keep me from sleeping.

The next day was hard. No sleep makes me a grouch and I chewed out a couple of people at work for reconfiguring some network security parameters without announcing to users. I got home and fixed dinner (naked, of course). It was burned because I was dead on my feet.

Jason punished me for the burned dinner. I have a leg and wrist spreader that does a remarkably effective job of keeping me immobile with my ass up, and he locked me in there and caned me. Twelve strokes. Painful, leaving some nasty welts.

An hour later I was in the bracket again for the night.

Three days of this and I was exhausted. After a couple of nights of no sleep I was so tired I fell asleep in the bracket in spite of the collar digging into my neck. I didn't say anything to Jason because... well, the whole point of the training was to make me more compliant. Compliance was the only way out of it.

Then came Saturday, roughly 5 pm.

I was naked and standing in the waiting displayed position. That's a pedestal in the bedroom. When I am not needed Jason will sometimes tell me to wait there. My wrists were cuffed behind my back and I simply stood and waited. It's unpleasant because I have to stand and the pedestal is small, not allowing much movement. You should try it sometime-- just stand in one place, not moving your feet anywhere, for a half hour and see how tired your body becomes.

Of course, I was also in five inch heels (my only clothing), which made it harder to stand in one place for a long time.

The doorbell rang, which sent a chill through my stomach. That's a new reaction, but since the last couple of times Jason has had friends over, I have become afraid of visitors.

There were a couple of voices in the living room. I stayed in my waiting position. A few minutes later Jason came in and silently blindfolded me, then led me out of the room. It was a relief to be able to move and walk, but I was scared.

The living room smelled of smoke. At least one of his guests was smoking. I was standing in the living room, naked, with several of his friends observing me. They made comments-- approving of my body, asking Jason what I was like as a fuck, what kinds of torture he administered. This wasn't the first time I had been exposed in front of his friends. I spent an entire superbowl standing naked and hooded in the living room once. But I had a different vibe about this one.

The rape from a week before, combined with the fact these guys were here specifically to see and interact with me, made me scared to death. I think I began shaking.

"Knees, Siobhan," barked Jason. I sank to my knees (wrists still cuffed behind me). "Mouth open!"

I opened my mouth, not knowing what would be inserted into it. I couldn't see anything or anyone though I could hear them talking. Mostly about me. My knees were kicked wider apart so the men could see my cunt more easily. I kept my mouth open in an O.

Someone stuck fingers inside my mouth, running them around, checking my teeth as if I were a horse. They were then shoved deeper inside, pressing on the back of my tongue and I gagged, but managed to keep my mouth open as instructed. I felt a strand of stringy slime following the fingers and dripping over my chin when they were removed.

They were warming me up. I knew what was coming, it had happened a week before when I had been raped by one of his buddies and there had been absolutely nothing I could do about it.

"Let's get to it, then," Jason said, laughing as he fondled one of my breasts. He pushed me down until my head and stomach were on the floor, kicked my legs apart and barked, "Knees!"

I pulled my knees up under my hips, which had the effect of pushing my ass up in the air. Fingers invaded my cunt as Jason began working with my wrists and ankles. He unlocked my wrists and pushed my arms underneath and back between my legs on the floor.

As soon as I felt the cold metal touch me I knew what was coming.

I wasn't gagged (yet) and I felt like I had to say something. "Jason, I don't want to be passed around with your friends."

He ignored me, and I felt the cold steel pressing against my ankles and wrists simultaneously. He was placing me in the punishment spreader, a metal bar that spread my ankles out about three feet wide. This was combined with securing my wrists in the middle. The position shoved my ass up in the air, and completely disabled me. I couldn't even crawl in that position.

"Please, Jason. I am your slave, not theirs. I don't know these guys." It was true, too. I didn't recognize any of their voices.

He pulled my blindfold off and said, "Take a look. Now you know them."

I looked around at a set of guys I didn't know. Five of them, plus Jason. My stomach was tied in knots, cramps, butterflies, and I think I was still drooling from the fingers and hadn't bothered to try and stop it. I literally could not do anything but lay there with my head on the floor and my ass up in the air, legs spread.

"Let me get her warmed up for you," Jason said.

"Jason, please! Don't do this!" I begged.

"Awww, the bitch doesn't like it," said one of the men, a balding short guy that looked like the CEO where I worked.

"She's going to put a damper on this with all her whining. Let me take care of this," Jason said. He shoved a ball gag in my mouth, one of the big ones, and buckled it behind my head.

"Obedience, Siobhan," Jason whispered in my ear as he grabbed my head and tilted me back so I was sitting on my ass, back resting on his chest. My arms and legs were pulled up in front of me, and my cunt exposed for the other men to see. One of those men was already undoing his pants and taking out his cock, stroking it.

Jason held me from behind and massaged my pussy. It felt good, I have a very sensitive clit and pussy and it doesn't take much to get me off. In spite of the situation I moaned and leaned my head back on him as he rubbed, starting off slow and making circles.

"Hahahaha... she likes that though, Matt," one of the men said to another. "Look, it's shiny down there, think she's getting wet."

A couple of the men knelt down to get a better look at where Jason was rubbing me.

I can't help it. Bondage and humiliation gets me off. I was bound and bracketed, unable to move or do anything, and was being used. It got me off. I was aroused, getting wet. Moaning. I didn't want these guys to rape me, but then this was an incredibly hot scene and Jason was forcing me to become aroused in it.

"Who goes first? Want her on her back, or on her knees?" Jason had warmed me up enough.

I sat there, arms and legs immobile, gagged, looking around at the strange and somewhat ugly men that were about to gang rape me. I hadn't been crying. Not yet.

"I wanna go," said a short, dark, hairy guy. He already had his cock out and it was hard. "On her back. I wanna see her face."

I closed my eyes. Jason attached a rope hanging from an eye bolt in the ceiling and lifted my spreader bracket up into the air, getting my feet out of the way of my cunt. I tipped over onto my back (not much I could do about that, it just happened).

Dark hairy guy licked his fingers and shoved them in my pussy, then followed with his cock. I moaned, shook my head and closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to look at him.

Some of the guys took chairs and exposed themselves, stroking hard cocks, and a couple stood near to where I was getting banged by the dark hairy one. He was pounding really hard, but the rope on my spreader bracket kept my legs and arms in the air and my body relatively stable. When he finished he pulled out and sprayed it all over my stomach.

"Fuck.... fuck.... she's good... dammit I liked that, Jason. Your slave is a fine fuck."

"Next?" Jason asked. Bald guy stood. He had removed his pants and was naked from the waist down.

Bald guy was overweight and had a big fat stomach. He knelt below me, and tried to get his cock in but his stomach got in the way. I closed my eyes once again to pretend I was somewhere else until Jason undid the rope and grabbed the bracket, tipping me over so I was on my knees instead of my back.

Fat bald guy was able to get inside me then and he pounded away, my head jerking and bouncing on the carpet where it lay. This was only the second guy and I was getting sore already. I felt his balls slapping my clit and his stomach slapping the top of my ass as he took me violently.

Fat guy came inside me and the way he was huffing and puffing I thought he was going to die of a heart attack.

"Can I take her in the ass?" Said the third guy. He was a tall, skinny, ugly guy.

"Yes, That's an extra $20," Jason said.

"No problem," skinny ugly said.

Ball gag make it harder to be understood and muffle speech somewhat, but they don't stop you. At hearing what Jason said, I cried out, "Mffoooo aaatth theeellling meee???" It was messed up, but Jason could understand ball gag speech. He knew very well I had asked, "you are selling me???"

Skinny ugly guy shoved it in my ass without further ado; my ass cheeks were already spread wide from the leg spreader, but he grabbed and pulled them wider apart. I grunted and screamed as his cock spread me unexpectedly. Hard anal fucking is a punishment for me, that Jason has used more than once. It can be quite painful, unless I am lubed and ready and relaxed, which I was not.

Tears were flowing now and I was looking at Jason standing and watching skinny ugly has he shoved and grunted his way to orgasm inside my ass.

Thank god it didn't take him long or I think I would have gotten a prolapse or started bleeding badly. When he was ready to cum, skinny ugly pulled out and moved to where my face was laying on the carpet and jerked off on my head. Gobs of cum slid down my face onto the carpet. I lay quietly and let the guy have his orgasm at my expense, staring blankly ahead of me.

"Thathon. Ooo thon't geth thooo thell meee." I said through the gag. "Jason, you don't get to sell me."

"You are my property, and I get to do anything with you I like," Jason said, and motioned for another guy to come take his turn.

This guy was a greasy black haired ratty looking person. He pulled his cock out of his pants through his zipper, just exposing his cock. Apparently he was shy. Kneeling behind me he slid inside my cunt and slowly began moving in and out. He didn't go in deep, he kept the head of his cock right around the opening to my vagina, slowly moving in and out.

I growled at Jason. "No, Jason. Stop this now. I am not OK with this."

There was a flash of light. The other men were taking videos or still pictures with their phones. I turned my head away. My head was the only part of my body I had control over.

"Don't make me gag you with duct tape, Siobhan," Jason said.

I was no longer nervous. I was no longer scared. I was terrified, and angry, and sad, and my world was crashing. I was Jason's submissive. I was owned by him. I had devoted my life to him, and made a promise to let him do whatever her pleased. It was my duty to accept this. It was part of my chosen lifestyle. It was fundamental to what I wanted.

I lay there, my mind swirling, my stomach cramping from the fourth rape that day, but mostly because I was about to do something that I had never considered was possible.

Tears were flowing down my face, I was sobbing. I love Jason. I love him so much, he has been the one person in my life that has given me everything that I need. Not just want. Need. I need to be restrained, bound, humiliated, suffering, used for someone else's pleasure. I can't imagine not being that way.

Ratty guy was getting close, I could tell. It wasn't easy for him, he had to work at it, finding just the right way to use my body for his maximum stimulation, but he was getting there. He finally made a small gasping noise and I could feel his cum flooding out of my pussy and down, dripping onto the floor. He had not cum deeply inside, in fact he might have only had the head of his cock inside me.

"Don't... don't make me do this, Jason," I pleaded.

He ignored me. "You next, Farley. Which hole do you want?"

"Oh, her cunt for sure, but let her drain some of Pedro's cum out first."

I looked up at Jason and said it.

The safe word.

"Divorce!"

OK, it actually sounded like "Thithorthe".

Jason looked at me, his head tilted sideways. "Did you just say what I think you said?"

"Thithorthe!!" I called out from behind the gag.

Jason knelt beside me, holding off the last guy, Farley I guess was his name. God, I would never willingly fuck a guy named Farley...

He undid my ball gag. "Say that again?"

"I want a divorce," I said, sobbing.

Jason stood up slowly, then turned to the others. "OK, sorry guys. That's all."

Farley protested. "Wait a minute. I paid my hundred bucks, just like those guys, I want my share of--"

"Put it back in your pants, Farley. I will give you your money back. Now get out."

After more grumbling and swearing, all the guys left and Jason unshackled me from the spreader bar.

"OK," he said.

"I'm sorry, Jason, I just... just... I can't take it having you just ... give me to other guys. I begged you, tried to tell you."

"Save it Siobhan. You know the deal. You were my property to do with as I pleased. Until you invoked the safe word. As of right now, we are no longer married, you are a free woman. I no longer hold any authority over you."

He lifted my chin to look up at him. "Nor do I want to. Go upstairs. You can sleep in the guest bedroom tonight. Pack your things and be out by Sunday afternoon at 6 pm."

Sobbing I went upstairs, took a shower to wash off the semen of four strange men, got dressed inside the house for the first time in several weeks, and went to the guest bedroom.

That was two days ago.

I am in a hotel now, trying to figure out what to do. I've been crying non-stop, almost, for those two days. I didn't want to leave Jason. I want Jason. That's the point. I would do anything for him, except... be with someone else. Subject myself to other men. Especially... not be sold to other men.

I am lost, completely. My home with Jason had been a known, secure place that was my life. Even if I was bound, punished, used, suffering, the abuse and suffering was because I chose it and it was what I wanted.

Now what do I do?

Shared and Used

Something bad is happening and I don't understand it. I've tried to deal with it, push it aside, accept and be a good submissive, but it has remained in the back of my mind and won't go away.

I like my limits pushed. In fact, I entered into my marriage and slave relationship with Jason with the understanding that there would be no limits. That he was my owner and I was his property. (Yes, there is a safe word that I have never used).

It was the most exciting step I had ever taken in my life, born out of love for him and the passionate desire to explore my craving for bondage, subservience, and pain. Being a Slave Bride was core to my being, and it has been the most fulfilling, exciting, erotic, satisfying experience I could imagine.

In all the things Jason has done to me over the years, I submitted and have been happy to. He has hurt me, made me suffer, kept me tied and immobile for hours at a time, whipped me, shocked me, forced me to work as a pony girl in front of others. I haven't been happy about all of this but accepted it all because it is part of my submission to him and that is important to me.

I want to be owned and used by him, regardless of whether I like it or not. In fact, if he only did things I liked, it wouldn't be true submission, would it?

Something has made me quite upset recently though, and I am having trouble processing it.

Jason's been suspending me a lot recently, some of it in very stressful positions. Yeah, it's been painful and has even resulted in a pulled muscle or just some longer recovery periods. I don't mind this, in fact it can be a core part of what is exciting about his bondage. Suspension makes me feel incredibly vulnerable and helpless, which is what I crave down deep. Not knowing how far it will go, how much pain I will endure, it all just makes the whole experience more exciting.

And it has reinforced my complete submission and slavery to him.

The first real, solid hint of what I was feeling was wrong and what was coming happened last Thursday, a week ago.

Jason had placed me in a very stressful suspension position. It happened in the playroom.

It was after dinner, about 7:30 PM. "OK, Siobhan. Go to the playroom and lay down on your stomach and wait for me there."

"Yes, sir."

I went there. I was already naked, having stripped as soon as I come home. We are currently in a phase were I am not allowed clothes inside the house, except for my collar and perhaps wrist and ankle cuffs. There was a mat laying on the floor underneath two of the hooks he had installed for suspension, so I knew what was coming. My heart was beating faster, anticipating the possibility of being hung from the ceiling and experiencing some stress and perhaps pain.

After about 10 minutes I heard the doorbell ring and someone came in. The playroom is soundproof so I can scream without disturbing the neighbors, but I had left the door open. Jason greeted someone and the two of them came into the playroom. It was his friend Mark.

Jason's done this a couple of times before-- had male friends of his observe me while tied and submissive. It's humiliating, which... well, I guess is exciting for me. I like being humiliated because it increases my feeling of helplessness.

"Arms behind your back, Siobhan," Jason ordered as he entered the room with Mark.

I obeyed, turning my head away so I didn't have to see Mark observing me. My hands went behind my back, wrists crossed.

Jason used rope to tie my wrists together tightly, then slipped the trailing end up around my neck and pulled up. This raised my wrists up to the small of my back and maybe a bit higher. Not uncomfortable, but it's a tie that keeps my hands away from my ass so it can be whipped. It was his typical secure job-- there was no way I would get out of the tie.

Jason rolled me over onto my back with my wrists underneath me. Another length of rope went around. Mark was standing by watching with fascination. He had never seen me naked before, though he was aware of my special slave status. I turned my head the other way.

The next stage of the bondage; Jason slipped another rope around my neck. It was worrisome feeling two loops of rope around my neck. I've been choked a number of times, even hung briefly, so it isn't unfamiliar to me but it can be scary.

The rope around my neck was looped around my knees, and cinched tight. This brought my knees up toward my neck, bending my body. My breasts pushed against my thighs and Mark moved around to observe my now very exposed pussy and ass.

I was kind of scared, a feeling I am not unfamiliar with but it is still... scary. The rope around my knees went around several times, with perhaps four or five loops tied back around my neck. The loop around my neck was just to keep my body in the folded position, the real strength and foundation of the tie was on the knees.

The doorbell rang again.

"Would you get that, Mark? Bring them in here."

"What?" I said. I was not gagged-- yet. "Who is coming? Jason?"

He ignored me.

A heavy cable with a hook at the end was threaded through a small pulley in the ceiling above me. It had been there for a while. Jason brought the hook down and placed it under the ropes that went around my knees. That was where the suspension would be.

Mark brought in two other guys; friends of Jason that I knew only slightly. One was named Patrick, the other I didn't know his name. I was in the process of being raised into the air as they entered, and Jason greeted them. It was clear this had been arranged. They had been invited over to observe me being bound and disciplined.

The position was weird, but not terribly uncomfortable, not like some of the previous suspensions. Mostly... it was designed to immobilize me and expose my genitals in a very convenient way. My head had no support and so if I didn't hold it up it flopped back to look at the ceiling.

Jason spun me around a couple of times, making me dizzy.

"Oh... fuck..." I moaned. Disorienting me like that was a terrible feeling.

"She doesn't like that," said the guy that I didn't know.

"Oh, she gets off on it," Jason said. "Touch her."

Patrick reached out and slid his fingers over my pussy. I said nothing, though it was distressing to have some guy touch me.

Jason was undoing his pants. I was hanging so my cunt was at waist height, and I realized why now. Easy access. The position was getting uncomfortable, though not painful. This is typical in suspension or any tight tie. Jason took hold of my hips and straightened my body out, positioning it. He then slid his cock in. I was dry and it hurt a bit, he gets really hard and can shove himself into me any time he wants, lube or not.

I gasped and he started fucking me, driving in and out. It was totally weird to be hanging there, three of his friends watching him fuck me. I didn't like it, I felt embarrassed, exposed and humiliated. But that's what I like, right? It gets me off, as he said.

Well, he fucked me good and hard. I didn't orgasm from it, I think having his friends watch made me too self conscious. It didn't feel good. He did cum inside me, and a couple of the guys sort of cheered when he did.

"Anyone else?" Said Jason.

"What?" I said, my eyes opening wide. "Jason..."

"I want to. Is it OK?" Mark said. I knew Mark. I had never been in a sexual position with him, though.

I have to explain something here. My being a slave to Jason has involved play with others. It's mutual play, where we have paired up with another couple and essentially played with them. Our neighbors, Erin and Jack, are in a D/s relationship and Jason actually had me stay with them for a weekend while he was out of town, and Erin disciplined and tormented me. It was a lot of fun.

We've also had a sort of swinging / wife swapping thing going on with the couple across the street, who are not into BDSM but they have toyed with things and enjoyed playing with us a bit.

What was going on here was a little different. I was hanging immobile, and he had invited his friends over to observe me being tormented and fucked. That was... different. Not quite the same as engaging with mutual friends in a play environment. But I didn't understand how it was different. It was just a real surprise to me when Jason told Mark he could fuck me.

And he did. His cock is big, bigger than Jason's, but I had Jason's cum inside me and it lubed me well. Mark stripped his pants off, and he was hard, of course. He grabbed my hips and pushed that wide cock into me, stretching me. It felt really different. I've had sex with dozens of men in my life, but since marrying and enslaving myself, only... well, probably only one other than Jason and that was Steve from across the street. That was during a mutual wife swap thing that was agreed to and expected by me.

So when Mark shoved in, it was the first new and unexpected cock I had inside me for some time. I bounced around in my suspension as he thrust, it was a bit painful. I grunted and moaned, my head fell back, my neck tired from holding it up. He took his sweet time thrusting deep inside me, he even grabbed my ass cheeks and spread them, wide, and started probing my anus with his fingers.

He finally dumped his load in me, and withdrew.

"She is fantastic," he told Jason.

"I know, right?" Jason said, grinning.

"Jason..." I said. "Please... can I come down?"

"Anyone else?" Jason said, offering me to his friend Patrick and the other guy who's name I didn't know.

Patrick declined, embarrassed I think. He probably had never had sex with a woman in front of other guys before. But the guy I didn't know, a tall thin dark guy that looked like an Italian, stepped up and pulled out his cock.

My eyes were staring at Jason, and I begged. "Please... Jason... can you please let me down? Don't make me do this..."

He ignored me. In fact, he spread my pussy lips for this guy to enter me. I stopped begging because it was clear it wouldn't do any good and I hung there and let this guy rape me.

I didn't let him. There really was nothing I could do about it. I was simply being fucked by a guy I didn't know with the permission of my husband and owner.

"She's fucking slippery," the guy said as he was shoving in and out.

"She's got two loads in her. You want to use her ass instead?" Jason said.

I flushed, my head flopped back and I bit my lip as my body bounced back and forth in the suspension. The guy was grunting as he was pushing, and doing it really hard and fast.

He was breathing hard, gasping and managed to get out, "No... no... too close... fuck..."

A minute later he came.

Semen was dribbling down into my anus from my cunt and I felt wet all around that area. In fact you could hear the sloppy slapping from this last guy as he pounded into me.

I really did feel like a complete piece of meat.

"Fuck man, that was good, thank you Jason. I hope she doesn't get too mad at you." The guy was using a paper towel to clean himself. We keep a roll in the play room to clean up body fluids that spill, which is fairly common. I drool like a water fountain when gagged and we've had everything from shit, urine and blood to semen over the floor and on me and him.

I hung silently, listening to Jason and his friends talking about my body, my cunt, how good a fuck I was. I was slowly rotating back and forth while they cleaned up and put their pants back on and finally left the room.

Of course, I just stayed there, slowly swinging back and forth. As with most bondage and suspension positions it had gotten stressful over time and I was hoping Jason would come let me down soon.

It was about an hour later he came in and let me down.

"You made me proud Siobhan. My friends really enjoyed you."

"Jason, didn't you hear me pleading with you? Letting some of your random friends fuck me is just... not... I didn't like it."

"Well, you don't like to do a lot of the things I like. That's your role, to suffer for me and do as I say. If I want to share you, then that's what will happen."

"But Jason, really. I am yours. I am not their's. The whole point is that... I am owned by you. You can do anything you want to me. But when you let others do things to me, especially fuck me... it just doesn't feel right."

Jason frowned at me. "Do I need to discipline you? Perhaps a night hanging upside down would teach you some obedience."

"Jason, there is no need to punish me. I just... this doesn't feel right and it... hurt me inside. Not on the outside, but inside."

"Siobhan, you need an attitude adjustment."

"What? No! Please, no Jason, please don't punish me. I am just talking to you. Expressing my feelings. I obeyed, they fucked me, there is no need to punish me."

He was already kneeling before me, tying my ankles together.

"Please Jason. Please don't punish me! Please, sir. I will be good. You can let anyone fuck me any time. Oh, god, no, don't punish me!"

"You had better sit down, or you will end up falling over when I pull up on this rope," he said. My ankles were tied and secured to a rope that went to the pulley overhead.

"Sir, please, I have done nothing! My attitude will change, please sir... please.. make me eat your shit, or drink urine... or... anything... just don't leave me upside down overnight!"

I was saying this as I sat down, because I really did not want my legs pulled out from under me.

My ankles went up into the air, my legs lifting up. I continued to beg as he pulled me higher, my ass rising up.

"Oh god, no, please..." I was crying.

"Dear, this is just something you need that will help you in the long run. Some discipline now, and you will be more compliant in the future," Jason said as my waist went up and my shoulders slid across the mat.

I stopped begging, knowing it would do no good and he might just get angrier.

My head left the ground and I was upside down.

It isn't the first time I had been upside down in my life, its happened a number of times, as a matter of fact. It can be a scary experience if you aren't prepared for it, and it certainly is not something that I can take for long periods of time. The blood floods to your head, you get dizzy and disoriented, and while it isn't necessarily painful (except for the inevitable headache), it can be extremely uncomfortable.

Jason pushed me and let me swing back and forth a couple of times before leaving the room. I was alone, suspended upside down and suffering for my disobedient and negative attitude. I would learn. This was part of my training to be a complete submissive.

I was nothing but meat hanging in the back storeroom of a meat shop. Something to be used.

He didn't leave me up all night. He took me down after an hour or so, very close to bedtime. My head was pounding and the headache lasted through to the next day. I went to work, but was pretty grumpy to the people who work for me.

I've been thinking a lot about what happened. I gave myself to Jason. I am owned by him. If he wants to let others touch me, in any way he wishes, I need to adjust my attitude and be accepting. I gave up my free will to him.

It's just... hard. Really hard.

Suspension Stress

Suspension is it's own unique experience. Not touching the ground, being above it and dangling, creates interesting psychological reactions. Inverted bondage has it's own unique aspects; discomfort from having the blood rush down, the pressure in your head, the complete disorientation.

It boils down to the feeling of helplessness that is enforced by the natural feeling of peril from being hung above the ground. That feeling of peril enhances the feeling of vulnerability which is such a turn on to me. The specially unique feeling of complete helplessness when upside down. The knowledge that I could fall is exciting. The feeling of my body swaying when I struggle, being free and yet still strictly in restraints-- it all comes together to create a fantastic experience.

I guess you can tell I do enjoy suspension when done right.

I've not been suspended upside down too often, just a few times, but each time it was an incredible turn on. Utter helplessness, the disorientation and discomfort, combined with the sensual and sexual stimulation.

Suspension is also one way to make almost the entire body available for my dominant to touch and manipulate. I can't hide my cunt, and I can't cover my back, my head and neck and face are right there, as are my breasts, stomach, ass, feet... whatever someone wants to get to. All with minimal bondage.

The other really unique thing about suspension is feeling my entire weight on whatever part of me is tied. Wrists, ankles, waist-- 135 pounds of dead weight pulling on me as if weights were attached, except the weights are me.

Why am I writing about suspension? Because he has been experimenting with it. Of course, when he experiments, it is me he experiments with.

He read that book by Anne Rice, the one about Sleeping Beauty but she ends up being dominated as a submissive. It's kind of mild and silly in places, but he got one idea from it. He wanted to suspend me from my arms and legs, both tied up high so my ass and pussy are available and exposed.

There are several things that have to be done right with suspension. First of all, the rope needs to be soft and pliable enough that it doesn't cut too deeply into the flesh. Unless you want it too, of course. Second, the tie has to be reliable and not slip. Weight needs to be balanced and because of the significant amount of weight being placed on the tie points, the tie can't slip and constrain. If a full 135 pounds of weight were to be placed on a slip knot that tightened around my wrist or ankle, the result would be a tourniquet. No blood flow. Permanent damage.

The balance on the tie has to be well done; even if the knot is proper, having only one point of suspension can create strain and problems. Kind of like when Jason suspended me by only one wrist recently. I came close to a nasty sprain. The troublesome thing was that Jason wanted to hurt me, that was the purpose of the tie from one arm only; to put the maximum strain on one arm.

The anchor points from which the ropes are secured need to be solid. Eye bolts solidly screwed into a solid wood beam or similar.

And of course, there has to be a way to lift me. Jason has struggled with pulling me up once tied, because he has used just eye bolts. It's a little scary to be lifted off the floor and hanging there while your husband and owner is sweating and straining to pull on the ropes. The higher you get, the scarier it is. I wish he would use a pulley or something, but I think he likes the idea of my body hanging from just a raw bolt in the ceiling.

The technique Jason used to imitate the hanging in the novel was to lay me on the floor and tie four ropes; one to each of my wrists and ankles. It is safer to tie the ropes to leather bondage cuffs, which he did once, but he has decided he prefers to inflict the extra discomfort of direct rope ties on my extremities.

It's his decision, I am his slave.

The first time he did this to me, he tied my wrists and ankles separately and threaded the rope through two different bolts in the ceiling. The bolts were spread apart by five feet or so. My left ankle and left wrist went through one eye bolt, the right ankle and wrist through another.

I was naked of course, laying on the floor with the ropes tied but loose until he began pulling on them. He pulled the left side first, and my leg went up (making me do the splits) and then my arm. He stopped when I was hanging sideways, my right arm and leg still touching the floor but my body lifted up a foot or so.

Then it was time for my right side, and up went my arm and leg toward the ceiling and my body completely lost contact with the floor. I was nervous, but I had been suspended many times before so it wasn't entirely unfamiliar.

Jason moved back and forth between my left and right side, lifting, until I was about four feet off the floor. Because of the position of the two eye bolts, my arms and legs were split wide apart. I swung back and forth slightly as I hung.

"How does it feel?" Jason asked.

"Stressful," I answered. "It isn't that bad, the strain is mostly on my lower back. It's the way my body is curved."

In response, Jason felt my breasts and stomach, and even pressed down on my stomach a bit. Yeah, the place where the most strain was. I grunted.

"Ugh, that's.... the... oof..."

He fingered my clit as I wobbled back and forth.

Weird thing about that position, my head was hanging free with no support. It isn't terribly painful, but to relax my neck meant my head would fall back so I was looking at the wall behind me. That isn't comfortable so I would raise my head, but that requires constantly lifting my head. My neck would get tired and fall back after a while.

So basically, my head was going up and down while I hung there.

Jason felt me up, felt my pussy. "You are such a slut, you are wet."

"Yeah... I know..." I said. I know this. I get off on bondage. I really do. It comes from years of doing it, since I was a young teen. Sex for me means bondage. Bondage means sex. Tie me up, make me hurt, and I get wet.

He fucked me hard, holding my hips to keep me from swinging away.

When he was done fucking me, he left me hanging there and went off to watch TV for a couple of hours. His cum stayed inside me, because with my legs up in the air the angle of my vagina was tilted and kept it in.

That first time was a trial, in a way. The next time he suspended me in this position, my legs and wrists were tied together and the ropes lifted into a single eye bolt above. I swear, when he pulls me up and all my weight is hanging from my extremities, I really get an idea of just how heavy I am. I'm not fat, I am skinny actually, bust still I am taller and weigh plenty.

Then staring at the one bolt above me, holding all my weight, and just praying that it isn't going to give way. It scares me. This whole suspension thing has scared me. I've come as close to serious injury being suspended as from anything else.

So there I was, naked and hanging with my arms and legs tied together. In that position he pushed me and my body began swinging around in a clockwise direction.

Dizzzzyyy....

"Oh... oh... dammit... oh god that is making me sick..."

"Let's try the other way," he said.

He pushed me around and I started going counter clockwise.

"Oh... oh god... I am going to be sick," I said.

"Well, let me get something," was his response. He slid a plastic trash bag over the floor under me. It was a big black one for the outside trash can, split it open and spread underneath me.

"Easier cleanup if you do barf," he said. I felt a pang in my stomach, a desperation that comes when I know he doesn't care if I hurt or get sick, that he is actually liking it. Things get unpredictable then. I have no idea how far they will go.

He spun me around, the ropes above me twisting around and around. I was groaning. He kept twisting me turning me and the rope above me was getting bunched and twisted up it had been turned so many times.

Finally he stopped and said, "ready?"

"Oh... god," was all I said. "Please no..."

And he let go. I began to spin around the opposite way, the ceiling and world spinning in my eyes. The twisted rope was undoing the tension and making me spin around the opposite direction.

"Fuck..." I said and suddenly felt my stomach heave, just a tiny bit. Spinning around like that was incredibly disorienting, and I had never experienced anything like it before. Vomit rose up and a tiny bit trickled down my cheek.

My head was leaning back, I couldn't keep it up when I was feeling that way, and a bit of the vomit went back down and into my lungs. This is dangerous, because if you aspirate your own vomit, you can choke and die. It was only a little bit but as I continued spinning I was coughing and choking.

When the rope hit the unwound position the momentum of my spin continued to wind it up in the opposite direction. Jason pushed, helping me along and tensioning the rope again.

This went on for maybe 15 minutes, and when I finally was still, the rope unwound and my momentum stopped, my face was smeared with vomit and I was panting from the nausea. My nasal passages were burning from the vomit that had come up into my nose because my head was hanging back.

He took this opportunity to whip my ass. I mean, it was just sitting there, perfectly positioned and there was nothing I could do but just take it. He whipped it with a three tail flogger that left nasty welts and caused loud yelps.

When this had all started I was naked, of course, but he was clothed. I don't know when he took his clothes off, I was distracted by a room still turning around and around even after I had stopped moving and just trying to breathe.

Once I had been thoroughly whipped and my ass was burning like fire, he fucked me again. I didn't cum that time, I was just too sick and in pain. It was a miserable experience.

When he let me down, perhaps two hours after he had pulled me up, he held me close and told me, "You are my Siobhan, my pain slut. You suffer for me. I am so proud of you."

I didn't say anything, but just cried for a while in his arms.

The next day I went to work, but was still feeling woozy. I told everyone I was getting over a stomach flu. Why the stomach flu would make it hard for me to sit down wasn't explained.

The next night I begged to be let off of being suspended.

"Please, Jason. I was so sick last night, and the whipping... the fucking while I was dizzy, it was terrible. Can I just have one night off? I will give you the best blow job you've ever had."

"Siobhan, I am disappointed in you. You know you are my pain slut, here to suffer for me. Why do you suffer?" He asked.

I bowed my head and knelt before him. "Because it pleases you."

"More than that, Siobhan."

"Because it arouses you and makes your cock hard," I said, looking at the ground.

"That's right. Now, let's go to the play room."

That night he tried to duplicate the exact suspension position from the book. It was a punishment position, designed to humiliate and torture at the same time.

But, he found that tying my wrists and ankles together and suspending me that way was not enough.

So, he tied my arms together next to my head and bent them back so my wrists were positioned between my shoulders. An incredibly tight and uncomfortable position, though not as bad as a reverse prayer.'

But he used a rope slipped through my bent elbows to help anchor my weight in the suspension. This made the whole thing much more stressful.

With my ankles up and roped securing my elbows to my ankles, my head was shoved between my legs near my knees.

It was like I was folded in half. No... I was literally folded in half.

Then he pulled me up and I lifted off the floor, my arms hurting my head sticking out between my legs (I was unable to move an inch and just hung there). My ass and cunt were thrust slightly forward from the awkward tie position.

I've been in some nasty, tight, degrading and weird ties before, but this was as bad as anything.

It was so tight I found it hard to breathe and just concentrated on making my stomach move in order to get air pulled in and out of my lungs.

Jason fingered me, worshiped my body for a while, and then left me there. Part of his fantasy, I think, that this be a punishment position. That I was to endure as a punishment torture.

I suffered there, hanging by my elbows and ankles for perhaps two hours before he came back and fucked me then let me down.

I called in sick to work the next day. My body felt like it had been beaten; the muscles in my arms and shoulders and back and legs were all stretched and aching and I needed to rest.

When Jason came home he asked me what had happened.

"I called in sick today, Jason. The suspension last night took everything out of me."

I was naked, as I usually was at home, but wearing my collar and leash. I put everything into my pleas, trying hard to get him to understand that my body was abused to the point I was unable to work.

"Siobhan! I understand if you must take a day off of work for health or other reasons, but not without asking me first! You know you need permission to act in this manner!"

I knelt before him and bowed my head.

"I am sorry, sir. It won't happen again. I just... my legs... my back... I hurt so badly."

"You are supposed to hurt, Siobhan. That's your role. To suffer and submit. So next time you call in to work you must ask me permission first. To help remind you of this, you will be punished."

I broke into tears, but that simply inflamed Jason. He led me to the play room and had me face the wall as he buckled my wrists behind my back. Ordering me to lay on the ground he placed ankle cuffs on me and then clipped suspensions ropes onto those.

All this time, I was crying, trying to keep control but unable to.

He hoisted me up into the air by my ankles, upside down.

I hung there for a while, steeling myself for whatever he was going to do next. Blood rushed to my head and the world looked bizarre upside down.

I was only hanging there for a few minutes while he selected his whip and began beating me.

He started with my ass, moved to my thighs, then inner thighs, then stomach, back, and breasts. Each impact was in a slightly different spot so the welts would cover my entire body, but no two welts would appear on top of each other. This maximized pain coverage, but assured fastest healing.

Jason is very, very good at whipping me.

The next day Jason gave me permission to call in sick to work.

I was out for three days recovering.

Jason has become very unforgiving and intense in his punishments. It's always been intense, I mean... he's made me ride the wooden pony for four hours or more at a time. I've just never felt the level of strain and stress as I have from his recent bondage and punishments.

I never know what will happen next.