It's finally done. A custom pipe harness. I'm not sure if it's more clothing or restraint.
This is what happens when you can't have real dungeon furniture. You have to build small things that can be tucked away. Under the bed, in the closet, anywhere.
An X-shaped frame made of iron pipe, with two straps attached to each arm.
The two lowest straps buckle tight around my chest, one at the bottom of my rib cage, the other just above my nipples.
The horizontal bar rests on the top of my shoulders. Two straps hold each upper arm. My lower arms hang free, but my hands are locked into bondage mitts.
Two more straps above my shoulders, one, a collar. A short length of chain connects the collar to the pipe. The final strap, tight around my forehead.
"Don't you look fun." I hear from behind me. Before I can turn around, she completes my ensemble by throwing a pillowcase over the top. It falls down around my shoulders and I'm effectively blindfolded.
And now the torture begins. Fingernails to start.
On my back. Across my chest. My thighs.
Fuck, this is amazing.
I'm totally exposed and with the sack over my head I've got no idea what's coming next.
"Stay." She says calmly. I hear her bare feet leave the room. "I'll be right back."
Those feet, how many hours have I massaged them? How many times have they crushed my balls? How many times have I thrust between them, because I'm not allowed inside her today?
I've no idea how long I was alone with my thoughts and fantasies, but I hear her return.
"Drink up" she commands as she pushes a straw to my lips without uncovering my eyes.
As cold water trickles down my throat, she presses an ice cube against my nipple.
My yelps are met with giggles. And now the ice is at my armpit, meltwater dripping along my flank. She grabs my dick with one hand while the other rubs the ice all around my head.
Finally, the ice melts away. And now it's her palm, rubbing the head of my dick. It was numb from the cold, but now it's not. And the water on her palm isn't really a great lube. This is becoming painful. But I'm thrusting into her fist anyway. She knows exactly how to turn me into a mindless slut. Honestly, it doesn't take much. I think it's really my default state. The hard worker, good citizen -- that's the mask I wear. The real me, the one I'm afraid to let out, he's just a creature of sensation. He just wants to shut off the brain and feel.
And just as the sensation was becoming unbearable, it stopped. Both hands came off my body and she stepped away.
Just a few seconds later and the sound of leather on leather tells me what is coming next.
Ish...
Was it the thuddy slapper that I adored? The one that knocked the breath out of me every time.
Or the stingy little bastard that I hated? It felt like a hundred bee stings.
Or one of the dozens of other floggers she owned. Each one drawing a different reaction from me.
"Thank you!" I scream as the soft deer hide flogger sweeps up between my legs. The falls wrap around my cock and balls and the tips hit my lower belly.
Now she's working my back with the matched pair. They're a nice weight. And soft. This is the gentle massage of flogging. I could take this for hours, but I know that's not what my future holds. This is just to wake me up. Just to start the blood flowing.
And fuck! The stingy little bastard. She's moved to the side and is hitting me across my back.
And now my ass. I can feel the welts rising on my back.
"You always say you don't like this one, but your body says otherwise" she teases.
