Posts Tagged ‘breast binding’

Amelia saw movement out of the the corner of her eye. She couldn’t move much, the spreader bar at her feet, the rope braided into her long hair, and the anal hook kept her in a position that was unnatural, but surprisingly not uncomfortable. There in the center of the circle of subs, she was forced to stand and wait for the next “activity” from the others.



The first woman in the circle was approached by her partner. He moved around in front of her and to her credit, she kept her head down and remained in her submissive, kneeling pose. The thin, silver chain that ran up and over her neck and down to hook into two nipple rings was simply too tight and distended her breasts, stretching the skin of her nipples up and back toward her neck.



The man calmly reached for her chin and tilted her head up to look at him. They locked eyes and he smiled down at her. The hand left her chin and reached for the chain behind her neck. Once there, he pulled on the chain lightly until the flesh began to turn red. Her eyelids sagged as if she was going to pass out from the pain, but she never let her eyes leave his. His free hand caressed her cheek while his other pulled harder at the chain. Tears welled in her eyes, but still she would not look away or cry out. He wiggled his finger and the heavy weight of her breasts jiggled at the end of the chain. Suddenly, he pulled harder and the soft flesh became misshapen and odd looking. The nipple rings looked like they were actually going to pull out of her flesh, so stretched were they.



Still, she did not lean backward to lessen the effect. She did not cry out. She did not wince, gasp, or look away. He was clearly pleased and turned to smile at the others in attendance. His face betrayed a silent boast of, “Look. Look what I have trained her to do. She is mine.” Everyone watched in silence, some expressing satisfied smiles to those around them and impressed nods. The whole thing lasted no more than ten minutes, and her partner turned to face her, and then spoke for the first time.



“Thank you, Beatrice.” With no other word, he moved back to his place behind her and stood quietly.



In the center of the circle, Amelia found that she was turned on by what little she had been able to witness but could do nothing about it. Mary moved around her and to her surprise, attached nipple clamps to Amelia’s perky nubs. She turned the small knob slowly, tightening the device on one then the other nipple of the bound woman. She smiled as if to say, “Lucky Girl…” Before moving away from Amelia’s chest, she attached a weight to each nipple clamp and Amelia gasped.



The mood in the room noticeably changed. Dave’s voice from beside her ear seethed, “Amelia, keep quiet. This is your only warning.”



He didn’t wait for an answer since he knew she would remain silent. Before he moved away from her, he placed a hand on each hip and slowly turned her a few degrees to her right so that she could see what was next. Before anything else happened, she felt the tug in her bottom increase, almost imperceptibly.



The next woman, the tall redhead, still held her position even though her bound breasts were now so purple that they had to be painful. Her partner, a tall man in his forties with salt and pepper hair, moved around in front of her and reached down to lift her face to his. He leaned down towards her and kissed her full on her pouty, pale lips. Her mouth lingered and seemed to reach for more as he began to pull away from the kiss. Her eyes slowly came open and it was as if the sun was rising, so bright were her orbs.



What happened next shocked Amelia. Without warning, he slapped her left breast, hard. The noise was deafening in the room. Her breast bounced towards its twin and rebounded to its original position in time to receive another blow. The leather tightened around her breast never moved, nor did it allow the blood trapped near the nipple to return to her body. The pressure had to be incredible to the girl but she remained quiet. She fought to maintain her gaze into his eyes as he struck her breasts again and again. Three strikes to the left breast, three strikes to the right. She took it all and actually at one point smiled up at him. Amelia couldn’t see this; her position allowed her a cursory idea of what was happening.



But the rest of the attendees could see what was happening and many pressed forward to see her receive her treatment. He alternated his technique. He reached down and cupped a breast in one hand while making a fist with the other. He proceeded to strike the top of her breast lightly with the edge of his fist, rapidly and with enough pressure that the entire tit jiggled and forced even more pressure into the nipple end of the tightly bound breast. Her back arched, her face betrayed her, and she was clearly feeling incredible pressure in her chest…but still, not a word from her.



After performing this act on both breasts, he stopped and took a nipple between each thumb and forefinger. He blew a kiss at her and as she pursed her lips to return the gesture, he tightened his fingers and twisted, hard. She clenched her teeth and took in a breath as quietly as she could. But still not a word from her mouth of protest.



The man effected a sharp, short bow to her when he finished and said, “Thank you, Sheri.” He then returned to his position behind her and grinned the grin of a sadist who has been allowed to practice his craft.



At the center of the circle, Mary moved around next to Amelia again and began, with a long segment of leather stripping, to bind Amelia’s breasts. Around and around, tighter and tighter, until each breast was elongated and turning a brilliant shade of red. Each nipple with its clamp and weight seemed to actually become longer with the new torture. And when she was done, the rope pulling at her anal hook became a tiny bit shorter, pulling the hook further into her. She wondered if she could stand it much longer, but for him, she would bear the pain.



And Dave held both of her hips and turned her a slight bit to the right. Before he moved away, he whispered very softly, “I’m so proud of you…”



The stout man behind the petite blond moved out from behind her and stood in front of her kneeling form. He reached down and lifted her face to look up at him. A look passed between them and then he took a fistful of hair in his hand and roughly pulled her forward. Her hands moved to catch her fall and she ended up on all fours, her belt with the flogger hanging straight down and her black heels pointing out behind her.



He moved back behind her, reached for the flogger, and removed it from the small hook hanging from the belt. The man looked around the room, making eye contact with many of the attendees and lingering on more than one woman if his eye caught that “spark” of interest in what everyone in the room knew was going to happen. The flogger came down on her ass and she showed no emotion. It struck her tiny behind again and still, not a movement could be perceived. He raised his hand again and brought the leather down in a blow that made many in the room wince with the perceived pain. The noise was deafening.



She did not move. She did not make a sound. She didn’t even cry.



So the strikes continued and her bottom turned pink. He stopped to examine it and drag his nails across the tender flesh. Then he continued. A few minutes later, her bottom was so red that it seemed to glow. He stopped and rubbed it, seeming to soothe it, or to feel the heat he had created there. Some in the crowd knew that sensation, either having been on the receiving end of similar play…or having administered it. When he was finished, he moved back towards her head and grabbed her hair again and pulled her back to her kneeling position. He ran a finger along her delicate jawline and up her cheek to end near her ear. He looked into her big eyes and saw what everyone else in the room could see; gratitude.



He said, “Thank you, Julie,” and moved back to his position behind her, satisfied that he’d impressed the party goers with his sub’s performance.



Heels clicked on the parquet floor as Mary moved towards Julie and her partner. He held out his arm and handed her the two items, before she turned and walked back behind Amelia.



Amelia braced herself. She had guessed correctly; the same punishment was administered to her. Mary came back and roughly placed the ball gag–still wet with Julie’s spit–into her mouth. It was adjusted behind her head and pulled tight. From now on, Amelia could only breathe through the wet holes in the ball holding her mouth open and silencing her voice.



And then, Mary moved out of her sight and behind her. Her ass felt the sharp sting of the same flogger that had beaten Julies’ ass red. The flogger came down again and again on her ass, accentuating the pressure of the polished steel hook embedded in her bottom. She could feel the heat building up in her backside and the sharp pains continued. Over and over she was struck and trying to emulate Julie, she remained quiet and still. Her butt felt like it was on fire but she fought to hold still and remain quiet. Movement would only upset her delicate balance that was tested with each stroke of the tool as it hit her bottom. And still the flogger came down on her ass. Mary was thorough, Amelia was near tears and fighting it before she stopped. When she finished, Mary click-clicked back over to where the man behind Julie took the flogger back and turned to caress the beautiful blond’s ass one last time with the leather before hanging it again at her belt.



And the device in Amelia’s ass was pulled a little tighter before strong hands held her hips as Dave turned Amelia a little further this time so that two women were in her sight; the twins.

It started out as a fairly ordinary day.



That is, if you consider it ordinary to find yourself kneeling, collared, on your hands and knees, naked, as your Mistress uses you as a footstool while she reads the paper. I was enjoying the sensation of her bare feet resting on my back, occasionally brushing my buttocks as she crossed her long, shapely legs from time to time. Sunlight was streaming through the window, warming the room, and the soft rustling sounds of her turning pages were lulling me into a drowsy state. There was a knock on our door.



“Answer the door, pet,” my Mistress ordered, and moved her foot to give my butt a gentle push as she removed her feet. She had not told me to crawl to the door, so I use the opportunity to stand up, rubbing my knees to return more circulation to them.



As I approached the door, I suffered a brief qualm, glancing down at my unclothed body. I had no idea who was on the other side of that door – a neighbor? A delivery man? Someone selling something? It could be anyone. My Mistress seemed very nonchalant about my nudity. Trying to hide most of my body behind the door, I turned the knob and slowly opened it a tiny amount to peek outside. I knew that whoever was there would still be able to see my collar, but I hoped they would assume it was just an ornate choker.



I could not contain my gasp of surprise at the sight that greeted my eyes. Standing on our doorstep, smiling her great beaming smile, was Susan. What a fantastic surprise! Without hesitation, I threw the door wide open, and dropped to my knees to greet her. “Mistress Susan is here!” I called out. “Greetings, Mistress”.



Barbara called out, “Come on in, Susan!”



Susan stepped inside, and the moment she did, I bent forward to her feet, holding each one between my hands, and lovingly kissing its instep. It did not even occur to me that the door was wide open, and anyone walking by would have a very good chance to see a naked girl kneeling, and kissing the feet of the woman before her. I actually doubt I would’ve cared very much, I was so happy to see Susan again.



Once I let go of her feet, Susan walked past me to greet Barbara with a big hug, leaving me to close the door, and follow. They then sat down on the sofa to chat and catch up with one another. Without being told to do so, I scrambled over before them, and again knelt down on my hands and knees in my footstool position. Without a break in their conversation, they both casually placed their feet up onto my body – Barbara’s bare feet, alongside of Susan’s feet, still encased in her lovely black leather pumps.



Susan asked how my training was coming along, and I blushed delicately as Barbara recounted some of our more lurid recent adventures. Since Barbara had kept me awake most of the night, amusing herself with me, I soon found myself dozing off in the warm sunshine.



I was suddenly awakened from my stupor with a sharp slap on my bare butt.



“Crawl and fetch some toys that will demonstrate to Susan your obedience to me, pet,” my Mistress ordered. Since I looked drowsy, she went on to clarify her command, saying, “Obedience and acceptance of pain, that is. Some of my favorite things.”



As the words sank in, I felt a familiar sensation. It was a blending of anxiety, humiliation, anticipation, and… pride. I knew that my submission was about to be tested in front of Susan, acting as an audience. While I did not exactly look forward to, or enjoy the pain, I was proud that I had never failed my Mistress. She had never done anything that made me invoke my safeword. I trusted her.



Crawling naked as instructed, I returned with several items. I had cording wrapped around my waist for easy transport. Clamped onto that cord, I brought the nipple clamps that are connected to each other with a chain. In my mouth I held a neurological wheel, with its gleaming tiny sharp spines. I was also able to bring a riding crop in my right hand as I crawled along the floor. Reaching the feet of my Mistress, I offered her the crop and the wheel. She took them, and also unwrapped the cord and the nipple clamps from my waist.



“Kneel up straight and prepare your nipples, girl,” she instructed me.



Kneeling between her and Susan, I plumped up my nipples with my fingers, tugging and rolling them. As they stiffened, my excitement built. An excitement tempered with knowledge of the pain that was to come. Susan watched closely as I held each breast out for the bite of the clamps. I may have winced slightly, but I made no sound as each jaw was securely fastened to my erect nipples.



Mistress handed me the chain that connected the clamps, telling me, “Pull straight forward, keeping this chain level.” Since these were clover clamps, pulling that hard on their chain made them tighten cruelly on my sensitive nipples, making me gasp slightly. I held my breasts in place as Mistress began looping the cording firmly around the base of each breast, trapping the blood in them. Gradually they ballooned, taking on a purplish hue.



“Let go of the chain, and arch your back, pet,” Mistress demanded, holding up the neurological wheel. This position caused me to offer my now swollen breasts to the wheel’s pricks. Mistress delighted in rolling the sharp tines all over my trapped, quivering flesh. Susan’s eyes seemed to get larger as she drank in the sight of the gleaming spikes digging into my skin. My gasps got louder with each pass of the tool.



“Well done, my girl,” Mistress complimented me. She put aside the wheel and raised the riding crop, saying, “Get in a good position to present your ass to me.”



On my hands and knees, I turned sideways to her, and then lowered my chest and shoulders to the floor, pillowing my head on my crossed arms. I kept my ass up high, and separated my thighs, offering myself freely. Susan was certainly learning how obedient I had become.



The crop whipped out and cracked across my ass cheeks several times. At first, I was able to stifle my sounds. But the heat and pain intensified until I was crying out with each strike, weeping copious tears. But I never drew away or flinched. I submitted, and embraced the pain.



When Mistress stopped, I could tell I had pleased her. As a reward, she told me to fetch the suction dildo, and I did not even have to crawl to get it. The air currents washing over me as I quickly walked away to do her bidding helped cool my ravaged buttocks.



The dildo that she sent me after had been modified to not only attach to a flat surface with suction, it could also be tied, which came in handy when tied to the leg of a heavy table, like the one in our dining room. Following Mistress’ instructions, I attached and bound it to one of the table legs there. Still obeying her, I went down onto all fours, facing away from it, and backed slowly up as she inserted it into my wet, slippery cunt, my legs passing on either side of the table leg.



Mistress unbound my tits, and unclamped my nipples, sending a flood of fresh agony through the tortured tissues. “There, there, my girl,” she cooed as her tender hands now caressed my breasts, sending waves of soothing pleasure to contrast and replace the pain. “Now show Susan how well you can fuck yourself on that dildo.”



I began rocking back and forth on the phallic object, feeling it alternately moving in and out, penetrating and stretching me delightfully. Emotions coursed through me: pain, humiliation, excitement, mounting pleasure as I changed angles and rhythms, closely watched by the two women. Hearing their comments about what a needy, horny little slut I was. All too aware of the sounds and smells I was generating as I fucked myself into a frenzy for their visual gratification.



Sensing a question that was rising fast in my mind, Barbara told me, “Yes my pet. You may cum. Put on a good show for Susan – cum as many times as you can.”



It did not take long.



My first orgasm erupted deep in my core, making me scream with the intensity of it! Without stopping, I thrashed myself to a second orgasm, since the dildo would never go limp like a real cock would. Panting harshly, I imagined myself being fucked mercilessly by a third person in a sequential gang bang. My body was now simultaneously protesting that all of its energy reserves were ebbing, while at the same time begging for just one more release. I pounded my ass back against the table leg, fulling impaling my cunt on the dildo. My labia slapped wetly against either side of the table leg as I tilted my pelvis downward slightly. This was enough to make my clit mash deliciously against the spongy base of the dildo and I finally managed to cry out with my third release.



As I slumped forward, allowing the dildo to slip from my fleshy sheath, a gush of trapped fluids cascaded from my vaginal opening, and down my thighs. I looked over my shoulder, and probably turned a bright beet red, as I saw both Susan and Barbara sitting on dining chairs, calmly sipping their tea as they eyed my messy, well-used, body. I also knew that in a few moments, Barbara was going to tell me to clean up the mess. What I did not know was whether she would command me to clean it using a sponge and a bucket of water – or – to clean it using only my tongue. Given that she had an audience, I had a sinking feeling which method she would choose.



I know my Mistress well.



I indeed had to suck and lick all my fluids from the dildo, table leg and floor. I was very glad that I keep our floors spotless at all times. “Clean enough to eat from”, as the saying goes. Job completed, I crawled back before the sofa, where Barbara and Susan had returned to their original places of rest.



As I sat sprawled on the floor before them, I noticed Susan flush slightly, and then shyly whisper something into Barbara’s ear. Watching carefully, I saw Barbara’s pupils widened in surprise. She looked Susan straight in her face and asked, “Are you certain?”



The pulse that I could see in Susan’s neck quickened, and she nodded slowly, not taking her eyes off of Barbara’s. “Very well, girl. Get up and stand before me!” I am certain that my mouth gaped open at the sudden change Barbara’s voice.



Susan got up off of the sofa, and swung around to face Barbara. Barbara looked her up and down, and then said a single word: “Strip!”



To my amazement, I saw Susan then raise her hands, shaking with emotion, and begin to unbutton her blouse. “Come over by the sofa, my pet, and get a better view.” My limbs surged with suddenly restored vigor, and I scrambled quickly over to the edge of the sofa, looking at the interaction between Barbara and Susan.



Susan kept her chin tilted down, seemingly not daring to make eye contact with either of us as her fingers undid the final buttons. She slipped the blouse from her shoulders, and let it fall to the floor. She stepped out of her black leather pumps, and nudged them to one side with a stockinged foot. Her trembling hands then went to her waist, and undid the fastenings of her skirt. With a whisper of material across nylon, she lowered the skirt and stepped free from it. She peeled and rolled the stockings down her long, gorgeous legs, and tossed them aside.



I saw a look of resolve forming on her face as she reached behind her back to unsnap her bra. In moments, it also left her body, leaving behind the soft tracks that a clinging garment can make in delicate flesh. But I barely noticed the markings, my eyes drawn to her luscious breasts, now free of their restraints. I did not have a lot of time to dwell upon them, however, because Susan’s hands now went quickly to the waistband of her panties, the only garment remaining on her. Rather than lowering them slowly and sensuously, she rather abruptly yanked them downward, in a sort of “let’s get this over with” gesture, and stepped free of them.



Barbara commanded, “Now place your hands behind your head and make a complete slow turn. Let us have a good look at you.” Susan winced slightly, but did it she was told, revealing her luscious body from all directions.



“So, you truly wish to submit to me?”



I heard Susan swallow, and, keeping her eyes lowered she almost whispered her answer, “Yes, Mistress.”



I could not believe my ears! When this interaction started, I had an inkling that this was happening, but I had a hard time reconciling it in my mind. Susan had dominated me so well earlier in our relationship, later joined (and ultimately replaced) in her position of power over me by Barbara. I never suspected she also had a streak of submission.



But this was soon confirmed, because Barbara said, “Very well, here is my foot” – and she extended it forward. Susan instinctively dropped to her knees, lowered her head and shoulders all the way to the floor, and lifted Barbara’s naked foot into her hands. She then began pressing her lips carefully to the instep, the arch, the ankle, and worked her way all the way down to each delicate toe. She worshiped Barbara’s foot. I began blushing as I observed how passionate the kisses became.



“Enough!” Barbara snapped. “Sit back and display your cunt for us!”



Susan slid her feet and knees out from under her, now sitting back on her buttocks. She drew her thighs apart, turning herself enough so that both of us would have a good vantage point to look between them. With shaking hands, and not daring to make eye contact with either of us, her hands went to her labia. She peeled them open, revealing herself fully. Of course, her vaginal opening was very apparent, shaded a delicate pink, with it’s depths lost in shadows.



But as Susan continued drawing her labia farther apart, I could then see the tiny opening of her urethra – her pee hole. When her labia were stretched sideways to their fullest, the tension on them drew back the hood that covered her clitoris slightly, uncovering the cute little button that formed its head. I felt my mouth began to water, as I enjoyed this sight. Barbara had Susan remain like that for several minutes, during which time I was intrigued as I watched her labia puff slightly, and her vaginal entrance make small motions of opening and closing.



“Back onto your knees now, but keep yourself open,” Barbara cautioned her. Susan complied, using one hand to keep her labia apart as she use the other hand to steady herself on her widespread knees. She had still been avoiding eye contact, but her eyes snapped up and locked with Barbara’s when she heard the next command, “Take my foot in your hand, and insert my toes into your cunt.” I am pretty certain that I heard a gasp escape Susan’s lips, but she took her hand, grasped Barbara’s bare foot, and began working it carefully into her pussy. With a bit of wiggling and soft groans, she pressed it slowly inward.



I watched, fascinated, as the toes disappeared into her stretched opening. “Pet,” Barbara said to me, “raise your big toe to your sister’s mouth.”



It took me a second to realize – she was referring to Susan as my sister. With a lurch of my heart I realized that Susan was placing herself on a level with me! We would be as sisters, submissive together to Barbara. But I could not dwell on this, because I needed to obey. So I raised my foot, as Barbara told Susan, “Get it nice and wet.”



Susan began licking and sucking my big toe, coating it well with her saliva. “Good! Now, my pet,” Barbara directed me, “get behind your sister, and work that big toe up into her ass hole.” Swallowing my surprise, I did as I was told, pressing my big toe to her tiny puckered opening. I felt resistance as I began to gently push my toe inward.



Barbara was watching Susan’s face carefully. “Relax your ass, my little bitch! Let that toe in!” I felt Susan’s anal opening quivering under the pressure of my toe, when suddenly it relaxed and opened. My toe was suddenly buried in that tight, hot tunnel!



Barbara must have felt my toe’s entry, because she smiled and then began wiggling her toes inside Susan’s pussy. I could feel the movement of her toes against mine, through the relatively thin wall. Being behind her, I could not see Susan’s expression. But judging from the red flush that was spreading down the back of her neck into her upper back, she was either finding this embarrassing, exciting, or both.



Since I had not been given any commands to move, I tried to hold my toe stationary. But gradually I noticed movement anyway. Susan’s hips were starting to move! With subtle shifts of her pelvis, she was rocking first forward onto Barbara’s toes, and then backward, making my toe move inside her ass. Barbara chuckled and addressed me over Susan’s shoulder, saying, “It appears that your new sister is a horny little bitch.”



I could not help but agree, saying, “Yes Mistress,” giggling merrily as Susan continued to writhe on our feet.



(continued in part 16)

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