"Please don't rip," I kept repeating to myself as I tried to pull the latex over my hips. My name is Vanessa and, like most teenagers, intimacy is still an awkward affair. Add my desire for sexual servitude and bondage and finding a boyfriend, much less a master is all but impossible. So like most teens, I started indulging in self-pleasure, which for me included self-bondage.
So with my parents off for a long weekend, I'm starting my most elaborate scenario yet. Using the money from my 18th birthday, I ordered a custom-made black latex leotard. But, the trouble I was having was making me think I was a little too aggressive with the measurements. However, with a final pull, I was able to stretch the garment over my hips, and with a little contortion I was able to get my hands through the shoulder straps and it over my breasts.
The tightness of the latex was like a lover's caress, and I felt it tug against my crotch with every move. Seeing my reflection, the latex looked like a second skin, making the effort and expense worth it. Standing at 5'5" my body never stood out. With shoulder-length wavy black hair and a round face, I was always described as cute or innocent-looking. I was someone people knew but never admired. The leotard changed that. The shiny black latex was a stark contrast to my porcelain skin. The scooped neckline displayed my cleavage as the tight latex forced my breasts together, giving them a uni-boob appearance and keeping them firmly in place. Their D-cup size looked even bigger with the compression of my waist turning my curveless figure into a sensual hourglass shape while the high cut of the legs highlighted my hips. Twisting to the side, I was pleased to see the effect on my ass, molding it into the perfect heart-shaped butt. The zipper running from my navel between my legs and over my butt removed any doubt that the garment was made for sex.
Wanting to complete my outfit, I added opera gloves and thigh-high leggings. Made of thick black latex, they were every bit as tight as the leotard encasing my arms and legs and leaving just a few inches of bare skin around my hips and shoulders. Next was my mom's four-inch black stiletto fuck me pumps I discovered in her closet years ago. Lastly, I picked up the black leather collar and buckled it around my neck. Excited to see the complete look, I returned to the mirror as the stiletto's made a sensual clicking sound, a sound I was never able to accomplish before today.
I stood motionless as the thickness and rubber encouraged me to keep my arms, legs, and back straight like some perverted mannequin. The innocent-looking adolescent was gone, replaced with a voluptuous vixen.
I felt a sexual rush flood over me as I rubbed my latex-covered hands over my body, the erotic feel from my exposed flesh turning into a dull pressure as my hands moved over my latex-covered mounds. My gaze followed my hands and they slid over my newly created curves, the tight rubber squeezing the air out with each breath and making me feel like an adult for the first time. The latex garment molded me into someone made for sex. I was the woman I truly wanted to be and with a flirty wink, I turned to get the box that contained my blackmail.
One of the primary rules in self-bondage is always have an emergency escape and if you're committed, one that's costly to use. In this scenario, that penalty was Athena. A fellow school swim team member, Athena's Greek heritage gave her a Mediterranean look, and being five inches taller than me, her large breasts and nice round ass looked more proportional. While I would be described as cute and wholesome, Athena was seductive and exotic. Her outgoing and energetic personality was a good complement to my shy, inverted one.
What made this choice dangerous was Athena is a lesbian who has a crush on me that borders on an obsession. Athena continued her pursuit even after I told her I wasn't gay. Yet, she made me feel wanted and we remained friends. She even applied to the same colleges and will be the only person I'll know on campus when we start school next year.
It was this acceptance/encouragement of her stalking that led me to choose her as my emergency escape. In my fantasy, I'm under the control of a dominant male. An alpha who'd dictate the rules of the relationship. His reign would be absolute, and I would be bound and used for his pleasure in the bedroom and life. A completely unrealistic vision, but that was my fantasy. Athena was the only safe person in my life that could fill that role.
We made plans for tomorrow when I told her my parents were leaving, if my release didn't work, Athena would find me and I would be hers for the taking. But if all went to plan, I would be free and the evidence of my adventure cleaned up.
To give Athena the leverage to make me accept her role as my mistress, I created a collection of materials that I would do anything to keep private. Photos of me in risqué clothes or naked, holding signs professing my love for her. Embarrassing videos and anonymous love letters that graphically stating what I wanted her to do to my body. Of course, there was a video confession of me being her secret admirer. I also included a list of the passwords to my personal and fetish life, along with a signed slave contract declaring her my owner and all the things she was allowed to do to me. If she found me while still in bondage, she would have all the material she needed to possess me. With no desire to be a sex slave to a lesbian, the risk of being forced into my fantasy in an unwanted way had a certain sexual thrill.
With the materials, as well as the keys to my bondage, laid out on the coffee table, it was time to begin. Not having the resources to do an elaborate release, I used the cheap reliable method of freezing a string in a block of ice. Two in fact, just in case the first got tangled.
I carefully placed a dining room chair under the arch facing the living room and using the chair as a stool, I tied the strings to the hooks we kept in the archway. With my release in place, I secured a pair of handcuffs to the lowest slat with a zip tie. When the ice melted the scissors tied to the strings would drop to the level of my hands allowing me to cut the tie.
With the chair ready, it was time to add the bondage elements to my outfit. First was a sexy play on 'hear no evil, speak no evil, see no evil. A ball gag, secured in place with a small padlock. I then placed a black sleep mask with embroidered kitten eyes on my head, ready to be pulled over my eyes. This was followed by a wireless headset with kitten ears playing the sounds of a woman being spanked while having sex.
With my preparations complete I took my seat and loosely zip-tied my ankles to the front legs of the chair, while cuffed to the chair they would be impossible to remove but after regaining my ability to stand all I had to do was lift the front of the chair and my legs would be free. With a final look to make sure the strings holding the scissors were in place, I pulled the mask over my eyes, plunging me into the darkness of my fantasy. Next, I twist my arms over the back of the chair and reach for the handcuffs. In a final act of freedom, I ratchet the cuffs closed, binding me to the chair.
A sense of helplessness and arousal washed over me. With my hands cuffed and zip-tied, my arms were pinned holding my body in place. With my ankles secured, the only movement allowed was the wiggle of my hips and the opening and closing of my legs. I had neutralized my sense of sight, sound, and hearing, leaving only my sense of smell and touch both overwhelmed by the latex.
It was in this condition that I thought I heard the doorbell. Tensing up, I tried to listen as the fear of being discovered ran through my head. I nervously reached around trying to see if I lost track of time and the scissors dropped without me noticing. Unable to feel the strings, I sat still trying to identify any sounds that would confirm that I was no longer alone. In my worried state, I couldn't tell if my mind was playing tricks on me or if I heard Athena calling hello or what sounded like the floor squeaking. Without my senses, I couldn't confirm or dispel my worries.
Try as I might, I couldn't shake the feeling I wasn't alone. It wasn't until the faint smell of perfume alerted me to a presence. When a hand brushed my hair, I wanted to jump out of my seat, or at least I would have if I wasn't secured to it. In my heightened state of arousal, any stimulus sent shock waves throughout my body. As I felt the touch of a female hand on my shoulder, I knew Athena had found me. I whimpered into my gag as her finger followed the scooped neckline to my breasts where it lingered unchallenged caressing my exposed cleavage before moving up to inspect the collar, her fingers holding the small metal tag with the word 'kitten' engraved in it.
Placing her hands on my shoulders, I sensed Athena straddling the chair, her velvety soft leggings pressing against the hypersensitive skin of my upper thighs. Her crotch pressed firmly against mine as our breasts mashed together, merging our bodies. My sense of touch was overwhelmed as she wiggled her ass before removing my headphones.
