Ramona had inherited this house two years ago and has been paying taxes on it all along. By now it had to feel like a burden to her and I figured that she was a motivated seller. It was adjacent to my property and I just wanted to bulldoze it, so I offered to pay her the value of the property.
When I approached her with my offer, she acted insulted and refused with a flat out, "No."
Since she is a customer where I work, I kept things polite and said, "Well, possibly we can come to terms in the future."
She never locked the backdoor on this place and I had started to use it occasionally as my own private jerk off hideaway. I knew that I shouldn't be in there, but after I was successful a few times, I grew bolder. The old room that I was using smelled damp and musty. I was hanging in my bonds, listening to the wind and thunder from the storm brewing in the distance. My head was spinning from the cannabis and beer. My bladder was full and I had a bad case of cotton mouth. I almost looked forward to the opportunity to quench my thirst in the devious way that I had devised. The blindfold that I had put on helped me to turn inward and drift into a deep sub-space. My cock was swelled against its constraints. I was enjoying the vibrations running through my prostate and my over stretched ass hole, just waiting for my little drama to begin...
I was shaken out of my inner journey when I heard the groan of the rusty backdoor hinges. The creaking floorboards in the next room told me that I was not alone! Luckily, I had closed the door on this room. The footsteps stopped just outside. I held my breath for what seemed an eternity; my heart was pounding and my brain was screaming, "I can't be found this way!" I was hoping that whomever it was, would just move on. I heard the doorknob turn and a cold streak of despair shot through my core. A moment of silence hung in the air. Then I heard the sound of footsteps running quickly towards me.
A woman's voice call out, "Michael, what happened!"
I felt the blindfold being pulled from my eyes. Standing before me in the half-light was, Ramona. She peeled back the tape that held the tube in my mouth so that I could speak.
In a concerned voice she asked, "Who did this to you?"
I was too mortified to speak as I groped for a plausible answer. Finally I said, "Three men robbed and molested me! Then they tied me up like this!"
She was looking at how my hands were bound and asked, "How can I get your hands undone?"
I blurted out; "The thread is my self-release mechanism." Shit! I was always a lousy liar.
She looked at me with a funny look on her face and said, "I'm not sure what is going on here but I am calling the police."
She reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. "No!" I shrieked, thinking about how my reputation, my career, and how my family would be ruined.
She stopped and looked at me quizzically and I quietly said, " Ramona, nobody did this to me."
" What do you mean? Why are you tied up?"
"I don't know how to explain all of this to you, Ramona, but please don't call the cops."
I could almost read her thoughts as she stepped back and surveyed the situation. Her eyes drifted to the empty bottle lying at my feet. She looked at the small table by my side that held a burning candle, a roach clip, and a bottle of hot sauce.
Then she asked, "Why does the candle have the thread wrapped around it?"
"That thread is tied to a pin in the slide lock over my head. When the candle burns down, the thread comes loose and it allows the pin to fall out of the mechanism. The block slides apart and my hands fall free."
What is this white box taped onto your thigh?"
"That is the control for my butt plug."
"Butt plug!" She said in an incredulous voice.
She grabbed the wire next to the control box and traced it around to my backside. She then laid her thumb on the control unit and rolled the speed control up and down. I knew she could hear the change in sound coming from the large plug buried in my ass.
She asked the next question almost as if she was afraid to hear the answer. "What is this black box taped to your other thigh?"
I didn't want to explain my perverted contrivance, but I was in no position to refuse. "That is a tens unit."
"What does it do?"
"It supplies an electrical pulse. This is my first time to play with one."
She followed one lead and saw how I had wrapped the bare end of the wire around my scrotum. The other lead ran over to my cock. I had stuffed my cock into a long thin olive jar that I had fastened to myself with some duct tape. The insulated portion of the wire was snaked down between the glass and the side of my cock with the lead of the wire lying in the bottom of the jar, about an inch from the end of my dick.
She grabbed the tube that she had untaped from my mouth and asked, "What is this for?"
The embarrassment of being found this way was bad enough, but having to explain every detail only made it that much more excruciating. With each word, I felt like I was digging my hole deeper and deeper.
I slumped in my bonds and began my story. "I will explain the whole thing. See the red light flashing on the tens unit? It is pulsing like an electric fence. I have it set so that it is "on" for two seconds and then "off" for two seconds. I have the intensity of the pulse on number three; ten is maximum. I thought it would be a safe level to start at. I do not feel anything now because the final connection has not been made.
When I begin to piss, the liquid will hit the bare wire in the bottom of the jar and the electrical current will give me a tingle through my nuts and cock. That tube that you pulled from my mouth is my safety; the other end runs to the bottom of the jar. If the electric is more than I bargained for, I can break the circuit and stop the assault, but only by drinking my own urine.
Once I had everything set up, I drank that 40 ounce beer as fast as I could. I dropped the bottle, pulled down my blindfold and closed the padlock that secured my hands to the lock mechanism overhead. The candle would release the thread in about one hour. I expected my bladder to fill in half that time. Right now, my kidneys have just converted forty ounces of beer into forty ounces of piss!"
Trying to coax her to release me, I said, "Sweetie, would you be kind enough to reach up and break that thread for me?"
She eyed me warily and said, "I'm not sure you are safe to let go. I will just keep you this way for a while."
"What is this hot sauce for?" She asked.
"I was going to put it on the butt plug but I chickened out."
"Michael" She started, and then her voice trailed off into a facial expression of condemnation. "Why the hell do you do these depraved things to yourself?"
"I knew that nobody would ever understand and I can see that you don't either. That is why I have always kept my play a secret thing. You are the first to catch me in the act. Vanilla sex with my wife is ok, but it bores me. For the past fifteen years, I have been asking her what her fantasies are. She always replies in the same way, "I don't have any fantasies." You know what, I am starting to believe her! Occasionally, I need a strong dose of triple X! I play like this for several hours, keeping myself on the edge of an orgasm for as long as possible. When I finally come, it is so earth shattering that I nearly pass out. My morals quickly return and I tell myself that I will never do it again⦠but I always do.
For a while, I had a special lady who gave me an outlet for my desires. She was a good friend, and a confidant. I have never spoken her name, so let's just refer to her as my Mistress. She had a sexual instinct about her and she knew just how to shape my lust. When she needed me as an emotional and spiritual companion, she kept my balls well drained. It mellowed me out and allowed me to focus on the nuances of our platonic relationship. When she needed a lover, hungry and intense, she would not allow me to cum until her own lust was satiated, and believe me, she had an appetite! I took great satisfaction in serving her, but a year ago she married a rich man and left me with no forwarding address. Since then, I have been a little lost and my own self-abuse has only gotten worse. I miss her."
"How specifically did you serve her?"
"Look, I am really sorry that you found me like this, Ramona. It was supposed to be a private thing. I will remove the hook and repair your ceiling. Could you just break that thread for me? My bladder is about to explode."