I love being his favorite servant
- 3 years ago
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Body Servant free porn video
It was the day after we’d slept together for the first time that Tom told me he was a real magic user, not just a stage magician. Of course, I didn’t believe him… so he showed me. That first time was something simple: levitation. He sat down on the floor, cross-legged, and then floated up to my eye level.
It was a neat parlor trick, I admitted, but I was still unconvinced. So he waved his right hand over his left arm, and then removed his left arm at the elbow. I screamed, but he kept on smiling.
He put his left hand on the floor. Then those disembodied fingers started dragging the arm away from him, and touched my foot.
I reached down, and caressed the fingers that mere hours ago had been caressing me. They were warm and loving, and I thought I felt a pulse at the wrist.
“See,” he said. “Simple.”
Then he picked up the detached arm, melded the elbow to the part that was still attached to his body, and it became whole again.
I reached for his arm, and couldn’t find a seam anywhere.
I walked into the kitchen, and gulped down a glass of water.
He followed me in, put his arms around me, and asked if I was okay.
I stood motionless for a while, and then nodded.
“I know. It’s a shock. Very weird. But it’s okay.”
I looked at him.
“I can do much, much more,” he said. “Would you like to try something?”
“Ohh-k-k-kay,” I stuttered.
He led me back into the living room, sat me down on the couch, and then waved his hand over my knee while muttering something. Then he reached down, and tugged my calf: the lower half of my leg came off in his hand. “Here,” he said, handing it to me. “A different view of your foot.”
I was nervous, and kind of uncomfortable, but I accepted it. I ran my finger across the sole of “my” foot, and felt the tickle right where it should be. “It doesn’t feel any different, on the inside.”
“Nope,” he said. “It’s magic. Still attached, through the aether. Just not attached in the world we can see.”
“Okay,” I said. “Now what?”
“Well,” he said, “aside from putting it back,” and so saying, he did reattach my leg. “I can do a lot of other things. Not just removing body parts, although that’s one of my most visually stunning tricks.”
“Do you want to show me something?”
“Well, let’s save some of it for later. But for now, well, do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
He took out the black-out sunglasses. An easy way to blindfold someone, they’re the wrap-around glasses cataract patients get after surgery, sunglasses that fit over regular glasses. Only this pair, we’ve painted the inside black, so the wearer can’t see.
“Put these on, and then leave your hands at your sides.”
I did as he asked.
I heard him mutter again, and then he cupped my face in his hands, and kissed me. I responded, and realized I had been getting very turned on with this magic he was doing. I kissed back more urgently.
Then I felt a pillow behind my head, but I didn’t recall reclining. He took the blindfold glasses off my face, and I looked into his eyes.
“What did you do,” I asked.
He just pulled back, and I saw… my body sitting at the other end of the couch.
“If we could see ourselves as others see us…” he said.
I clenched my fingers into a fist, and saw my body do it.
“Stand up,” he said.
And I did. No real thought. I just stood, as I always did.
“Now turn away from us.”
And again, I did.
“Did you ever think you’d be able to see your own back? Now you know what I mean when I tell you you have an incredible ass.”
I wiggled it a little, and he laughed. Then he picked my head up, put it back on my neck, and I was whole again.
That was all several months ago. We’ve played with magic frequently since then, but always in private.
Yesterday, I had been working in the study, when Tom came to say he wanted to try something. I put on the blindfold glasses as he asked, and he took my elbow and led me out to the living room.
Then he told me to stand still, and he put sandals on my feet.
“Okay, now walk, but slowly,” he said.
I picked up my left foot, and discovered I could only raise it a couple of inches. Then I moved it forward, put it down, and raised my right foot, again, just a few inches. My left foot again, and as I was moving it forward, I felt something pulling it to the left. I didn’t fight, but rather turned a bit. Then my right foot, and the turn to the left was a little sharper. I kept moving my feet, slowly, at low height, walking straight, and sometimes turning.
Finally, Tom said, “Good, it works the way it should.”
He took off the blindfold glasses, and I looked down to see the sandals had attachments on the outsides of the ankles, and those pieces were inserted in rails that were a few inches off the floor. I was walking in a track, like a train.
I didn’t even question the rails’ existence. As a stage magician, in addition to really using magic, Tom is forever building props and sets, so of course he’d be able to build this foot track.
Then he asked me if I was willing to go farther with the magic. He said he’d be having some friends over to play cards—friends I hadn’t met—tomorrow night, and that they’d need a body servant, if I was game.
I said okay.
Late this afternoon, Tom told me it was time to get ready for the game. He told me to strip, and I was nervous.
“Not to worry,” he said. “You’ll be perfectly safe—I’ll be with you the whole time. But we’re going to enjoy this, and I think you will, too.”
So I took off my clothes. Then I put on the blindfold glasses he handed to me.
He led me out of the room, stopped me, and put the sandals on my feet. Then he walked me a little farther, had me stop again, and muttered something. I felt his hands on my face, and had a bad feeling as I remembered his phrase, “body servant.” He put something around my neck, and then his hands left my head.
Then I felt him putting something around my neck again, a little lower down. I heard him say “Raise your arms,” from across the room, so I did. I felt him put something around my upper arms, and across my back. “You can put your arms down now.” Then nothing for a while.
He suddenly removed the blindfold glasses. I looked at him, and then saw that my head was on the kitchen table. Across the kitchen, my body stood by the counter, between the refrigerator and the sink. I was looking at my back. My body had straps around my upper arms and shoulders, holding a tiny package between my should blades, and atop the stump of my neck, there was a metal cap with an antenna.
“As you can see,” said Tom, “my guests are going to see your body in all its glory. But they’re going to assume you’re a robot. Your job is going to be serving drinks, and being available for us to enjoy, both visually and with our hands.” He stroked my breasts, and I felt my nipples perk right up. “You need to practice. From where your body is, you can reach into the refrigerator, the cabinet, and use the sink. Now, can you see this tray?”
“Yes,” I said.
“And you see it’s resting on these tubes. Put your hands into the tubes, reach in until you feel handgrips.” I did so. “Squeeze the grips.” I did, and heard clicks. “Now the tray is locked onto your forearms. The only way to release it is to put it back where it is, after I click this button.” He pointed to a button on a remote control he was holding. “You’re going to carry your tray into the dining room, where we’ll be playing cards, and pick up our empties. Then I’ll push the button, you’ll return to the kitchen, and release the tray on this holder. Then you are to prepare the drinks, put them on the tray, and lock it back onto your arms, as I’ve just shown you. Then you return to the dining room, where we’ll take the drinks. Then you can return to the kitchen, until we’re ready for you again.”
“And how am I going to know when you’re ready for me?”
“For that, I’m going to give you a choice. The first option is for me to take off your clit and use it as a push button.”
He’d taken off my clit once before, and attached it to the back of my throat. He wanted me to try being a real life Deep Throat, like in the movie. It was a really strange sensation, feeling his cock in my mouth, and at the same time stimulating my clit (which I felt from where it usually is). It was the first time I’d managed to come while giving a blow job, with no other stimulation to my body. And it was a really good orgasm.
But I didn’t want my clit to be a push button. “So what’s my other option?”
“Voice commands. I can speak into this remote, saying ‘Robot, walk,’ or ‘Robot, stop.’ And then you do whichever it is. Better?”
“I think so,” I said. I was willing to be a drink-serving sex object for Tom and his friends, but I didn’t want them squeezing my clit just to send me a signal.
“Okay, let’s try it.” He stepped out of the kitchen, and then, through a speaker I hadn’t noticed next to my head, his voice said, “Robot, walk.”
I started walking, realizing I couldn’t move my hands, because they were locked into the tubes holding up the tray. I followed the track out of the kitchen, quickly losing sight of my body.
“Robot, stop,” the speaker said, and I did.
Then I felt his hands stroking my ass.
“Robot, look at the monitor in front of you,” the speaker said. It flickered to life, and I saw Tom fondling my butt, from a camera up above the scene. He slapped my ass, and I felt it.
“Robot, root beer,” he said. Then “Robot, walk,” and I did, watching my body on the screen and feeling the tracks as I walked my body into the kitchen. I walked over to the counter, put the tray down, and felt the tubes unlock from my arms. I reached to the fridge, pulled out a root beer, put it on the tray, and then put my arms back into the tubes. The tray locked on, and I lifted it, being careful to hold my arms steady. Then I walked my body back out to the dining room.
“Robot, stop,” said Tom. On the screen, I saw him take the soda from the tray. Then he reached down under the tray, and I felt him stoke my lips and rub my clit.
He stopped just as I was getting close, and said, “Robot, walk.”
My body stood there in frustration, while my head was panting in the kitchen.
He slapped my ass. “Robot, walk.”
I walked my body back into the kitchen, and over to the counter, where I put the tray down. I heard a click, and discovered I couldn’t pick my arms up, nor remove them from the tubes under the tray.
Tom came into the kitchen. “Remember, your body is a robot. It must respond to each command, or my friends will know you’re a real person. Then they’ll wonder who you are, and I may have to tell them.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll be good,” I said, sheepishly.
“Also, remember that you can’t remove your arms from the tray until I push this button. So each time your body returns to the kitchen, place the tray on the counter, and then wait for me to push the button.”
He bent down, and kissed me. “Good robot. Now, you just wait here. My friends will be coming soon, and we’ll get settled, and then I’ll order our drinks. Then I’ll release the tray, and you’re on: prepare the drinks, put them on the tray, pick it up, and bring it in. But remember, don’t react if you feel someone touching your body: you’re just a robot.”
He walked out of the kitchen, and then came back in. “Forgot something.” And he turned off the monitor.
Looking at me, he said, “they won’t know who you are, and you won’t know who they are. This way, you won’t be embarrassed when you meet them sometime later.”
There wasn’t anything I could do while I waited. My body was tied to the tracks by the locked-on sandals—the tracks which didn’t come anywhere near the table, so I couldn’t reach my own head—and my hands were locked into the tray on the counter. My head “sat” on the table, and I watched my own ass wiggle as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.
A little later, I heard the doorbell, and voices, and then the bell rang again, and again.
Then I heard from the speaker: “Robot: one ale, two beers, one iced tea.”
The tray released my hands, and I pulled them out, straightening up my body. I got the drinks out of the fridge, put them on the tray, and put my hands back in the tubes, locking them in again. Then I straightened up my body, lifting the tray, and took a deep breath. “Here I go,” I thought, and walked my body out of the kitchen, slowly and tentatively.
“Robot, stop,” said Tom.
I stopped, and felt the tray get lighter as someone removed the drinks.
“Robot, walk,” said Tom.
I walked, and presently saw my body come back into the kitchen. I breathed a sigh of relief.
I put the tray down, and again, it locked to the counter without releasing my hands. Again I waited.
Eventually, Tom’s voice said, “Robot, chips.”
The tray released my hands, and I got chips out of the cabinet, poured them into a bowl, and put the bowl on the tray. The I picked it up and carried it out of the kitchen.
Tom’s voice said, “Robot, stop.”
I stopped, and someone removed the bowl of chips.
I almost jumped when I felt a rough hand squeeze my breast, but I think I managed to control it.
The hand stopped, and Tom’s voice said, “Robot, walk.”
I started walking, but after a few steps, Tom said “Robot, stop.”
I did, and steeled myself for another hand. This one, however, pinched my pussy lip, then stroked a little deeper inside. I was surprised to feel myself getting wet.
Then the hand stopped, and Tom’s voice said, “Robot, walk.”
Again, I walked a few steps. Again, Tom’s voice stopped me. Again, I expected a hand on my body.
This time, however, it was a mouth on my left nipple. The mouth sucked my nipple in, and I felt a bristly mustache around it. Tom doesn’t have a mustache. This unknown tongue flicked my nipple, up and down, up and down. The tongue knew what it was doing, as I felt myself getting turned on. Then a hand was pinching my butt, and I wasn’t sure what to feel.
Eventually, they stopped, and Tom’s voice said “Robot, walk.”
My body came back into the kitchen.
And that’s how it went for a couple of hours: orders for drinks, orders for snacks, stops to be fondled, and in between, waiting locked to the counter.
And each time, the desire within my body caused it to tremble more and more while it was locked to the counter, awaiting its next trip.
Then Tom’s voice said, “Robot, walk,” without ordering anything.
I picked up the tray and walked out of the kitchen.
“Robot, stop,” he said.
Then I felt a hand cupping my right breast, while another tweaked my right nipple. While that was going on, two more hands started paying attention to my left breast. And two more were on my ass. And another two on my pussy.
They were stroking, fondling, pinching, occasionally replaced by mouths. Back and forth, all over, and I was getting hotter and hotter, while trying not to move, to be Tom’s good robot.
Then Tom’s voice said, “Robot, cum.” And I did.
After Tom’s friends left, and I recovered from a mind-blowing orgasm, he came into the kitchen.
“Was it good?”
“I don’t like how you got me into that,” I grumbled, although just being a head on the table, it was kind of difficult to project anger, “but yeah, it was good.”
He smirked at me. “C’mere. I want to show you something.”
I stuck out my tongue at him.
“Oh, right. Here, let me help you.” He came over to the table, and picked up my head, cradling it in the crook of his arm.
He walked us into the living room, and lifted my head with his hands under my jaws and ears. Turning me to the mirror, he said, “I want to show you the… I guess I’ll call it a ‘shoe’ at the bottom of your neck. I take it that it wasn’t very uncomfortable sitting on it, right?”
“No,” I admitted.
He rotated my head a bit. “Okay, and here you can see that it’s locked on. That means the shoe stays on, and the head stays off your body, until I unlock it.”
“And how long will that be,” I asked.
“Well, at least until tomorrow. I have to go out. Michael, one of the guys who was here playing cards, is waiting for me in his car. He needs my help, and I’m going to crash at his place, so you’ll have a chance to enjoy your body without me.”
“Disconnected, like this?”
“Yes. I think you’ll find you can do some things you couldn’t. Try it; maybe you’ll like it.” And he carried me into the dining room.
Setting my head down on the dining room table, I watched as he took the straps off my shoulders, and then removed the metal cap from the stump of my neck atop my body. Under it, I saw, was another shoe like the one on the bottom of my head. It, too, had a lock on it. Then he unlocked the sandals from my body, freeing it from the tracks on the floor.
“All right, now you won’t be able to reconnect yourself while those shoes are locked on. So be careful,” he said. “Remember, you’ll have to carry your head, rather than not thinking about it as you do when it’s attached to your body. But see how you like it.” He picked my head up, and kissed me, deeply and lovingly. And after a moment, I returned it.
“Oh, and don’t worry about getting those shoes wet. They’re plastic, and the locks are rust-proof,” he said. “Good night.” He put my head down on the table, and walked out of the house.
I sat my body down in a chair, and fumed. How could he just leave me here? I muttered and grumbled for a few minutes.
Then I realized I was staring directly at my breasts: eyes to nipples, as it were. And that made me realize what Tom had been hinting at.
But before I did anything else, I needed a shower. So I stood my body up, reached to the table, picked up my head, and rotated it so I was facing away from myself.
It was a really strange feeling, seeing the world from a sitting height, even though I was standing. But I got the hang of it almost at once, and walked myself to the bathroom, where I put my head down on the counter, facing the shower.
After adjusting the water, I climbed in, and reached for the shampoo, before realizing my body had no need of it.
Instead, I reached for the soap and washcloth, and started soaping my body.
Almost immediately, I realized why Tom liked watching me in the shower. I have to admit, I was getting turned on watching myself soaping up. As long as I ignored the fact that there was no head on the body in the shower, it could have been any soft-core porn flick. It looked good and it felt good, my breasts all soapy and my hands running up and down my stomach and legs.
Eventually, I pulled myself out of the shower, dried off, picked up my head, and walked into the bedroom.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, out the corner of my eye, and turned to face the mirror. “Wait a minute,” I said out loud. “I don’t need a mirror, other than to look at my face.”
I turned my head around, and stretched out my arms to look at my body. It did look good.
Pulling my head in, I licked my nipple, for the first time without having to pull my breast toward my mouth. It felt good.
Then I lowered my head along my body, pulled it in to give my belly button a lick, and continued on down.
I was looking at my own pussy. Looking at it, from a range of inches, and wanting to see inside. But I couldn’t pull my lips apart with my hands holding my head. Instead, I kissed it, ran my tongue up the lips, and shuddered fiercely. “Definitely time to lie down,” I thought, so I did.
I put my head between my breasts, then brought my elbows together, pushing my breasts up and together. This had the effect of holding my head in a valley made by my breasts, and I was able to lick them a bit. “Not bad, but I can do better,” I thought.
I picked my head up, and put my mouth down over a nipple. I licked it, I nibbled it, I sucked it deep into my mouth, and I really enjoyed it. I felt my pussy getting wet, and remembered why I’d had to lie down.
I lifted my head off my breast and put it down between my legs.
My nose was about level with my clit, and my mouth was perfectly positioned for a little auto-cunnilingus. But first, I pulled my lips apart, to look inside myself.
It was a view I’d only seen in a mirror, and that awkwardly. Now it was an easy, direct view, and I just had to dive in and take a direct, unadulterated, taste of myself.
I almost couldn’t taste, as I was overwhelmed by feeling. I shivered, and my head rolled backward, taking my tongue out of my pussy.
I righted my head, and squeezed my legs gently together, holding my head in position. My thighs over my ears blocked out most sound, but there was nothing to hear, and there was everything to lick, fondle, and enjoy.
I licked myself to a quick orgasm, and then a little longer to another, and a third.
It was wonderful, but my tongue was getting a little tired, and I was feeling quite sated.
“I’ll just rest a moment,” I thought, and closed my eyes.
When I woke up, I knew I’d been asleep for several hours.
I woke to an aroma I wasn’t used to... ah, of course. I remembered, and I opened my eyes to find myself face to... well, staring at my own pussy.
“A little wake-up cunnilingus,” I wondered. “Sure, why not,” and got myself off for a nice start to the day.
Then I picked my head up, and started the day.
Breakfast was an awkward affair, and I decided not to risk hot coffee, but I was getting the hang of being in two pieces. I don’t know if it had increased my libido, or I was just playing because I could, but I was thinking about sex far more than usual.
I tried sitting on my own face, and while an orgasm is great, I realized that position is a bit more about dominance, and dominating my own disconnected head wasn’t really doing it for me.
Then I fucked myself with my favorite dildo, while watching from an angle more suited to a porno. The feeling was a lot better than just watching it on screen.
Eventually, I just needed a break. I sat down on the couch to watch some television, and put my head down on my own lap to watch. Another odd angle, but I got used to it quickly.
Then I heard the door open, and Tom walked in.
“That’s it,” he asked. “You spent the day just sitting there watching tv?”
“Not hardly. I just needed a break.”
He grinned at that, but made no move to put me back together.
“Well,” I said. “Are you just going to leave me in pieces?”
“Not forever,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “I’m just wondering if I want to take your body to bed, or your head. What do you think? A night of oral sex, or do you want to spend the night with your head on the dresser, watching your body have sex with me?”
I couldn’t very well tell him I wanted to try both, and many more things. But I knew we were both be in for lots of uncommon orgasms.
***
Iron Rodd's first collection of loving bondage stories, "Tied in to Love," is now available in print and electronic editions from all major online retailers.
It was a neat parlor trick, I admitted, but I was still unconvinced. So he waved his right hand over his left arm, and then removed his left arm at the elbow. I screamed, but he kept on smiling.
He put his left hand on the floor. Then those disembodied fingers started dragging the arm away from him, and touched my foot.
I reached down, and caressed the fingers that mere hours ago had been caressing me. They were warm and loving, and I thought I felt a pulse at the wrist.
“See,” he said. “Simple.”
Then he picked up the detached arm, melded the elbow to the part that was still attached to his body, and it became whole again.
I reached for his arm, and couldn’t find a seam anywhere.
I walked into the kitchen, and gulped down a glass of water.
He followed me in, put his arms around me, and asked if I was okay.
I stood motionless for a while, and then nodded.
“I know. It’s a shock. Very weird. But it’s okay.”
I looked at him.
“I can do much, much more,” he said. “Would you like to try something?”
“Ohh-k-k-kay,” I stuttered.
He led me back into the living room, sat me down on the couch, and then waved his hand over my knee while muttering something. Then he reached down, and tugged my calf: the lower half of my leg came off in his hand. “Here,” he said, handing it to me. “A different view of your foot.”
I was nervous, and kind of uncomfortable, but I accepted it. I ran my finger across the sole of “my” foot, and felt the tickle right where it should be. “It doesn’t feel any different, on the inside.”
“Nope,” he said. “It’s magic. Still attached, through the aether. Just not attached in the world we can see.”
“Okay,” I said. “Now what?”
“Well,” he said, “aside from putting it back,” and so saying, he did reattach my leg. “I can do a lot of other things. Not just removing body parts, although that’s one of my most visually stunning tricks.”
“Do you want to show me something?”
“Well, let’s save some of it for later. But for now, well, do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
He took out the black-out sunglasses. An easy way to blindfold someone, they’re the wrap-around glasses cataract patients get after surgery, sunglasses that fit over regular glasses. Only this pair, we’ve painted the inside black, so the wearer can’t see.
“Put these on, and then leave your hands at your sides.”
I did as he asked.
I heard him mutter again, and then he cupped my face in his hands, and kissed me. I responded, and realized I had been getting very turned on with this magic he was doing. I kissed back more urgently.
Then I felt a pillow behind my head, but I didn’t recall reclining. He took the blindfold glasses off my face, and I looked into his eyes.
“What did you do,” I asked.
He just pulled back, and I saw… my body sitting at the other end of the couch.
“If we could see ourselves as others see us…” he said.
I clenched my fingers into a fist, and saw my body do it.
“Stand up,” he said.
And I did. No real thought. I just stood, as I always did.
“Now turn away from us.”
And again, I did.
“Did you ever think you’d be able to see your own back? Now you know what I mean when I tell you you have an incredible ass.”
I wiggled it a little, and he laughed. Then he picked my head up, put it back on my neck, and I was whole again.
That was all several months ago. We’ve played with magic frequently since then, but always in private.
Yesterday, I had been working in the study, when Tom came to say he wanted to try something. I put on the blindfold glasses as he asked, and he took my elbow and led me out to the living room.
Then he told me to stand still, and he put sandals on my feet.
“Okay, now walk, but slowly,” he said.
I picked up my left foot, and discovered I could only raise it a couple of inches. Then I moved it forward, put it down, and raised my right foot, again, just a few inches. My left foot again, and as I was moving it forward, I felt something pulling it to the left. I didn’t fight, but rather turned a bit. Then my right foot, and the turn to the left was a little sharper. I kept moving my feet, slowly, at low height, walking straight, and sometimes turning.
Finally, Tom said, “Good, it works the way it should.”
He took off the blindfold glasses, and I looked down to see the sandals had attachments on the outsides of the ankles, and those pieces were inserted in rails that were a few inches off the floor. I was walking in a track, like a train.
I didn’t even question the rails’ existence. As a stage magician, in addition to really using magic, Tom is forever building props and sets, so of course he’d be able to build this foot track.
Then he asked me if I was willing to go farther with the magic. He said he’d be having some friends over to play cards—friends I hadn’t met—tomorrow night, and that they’d need a body servant, if I was game.
I said okay.
Late this afternoon, Tom told me it was time to get ready for the game. He told me to strip, and I was nervous.
“Not to worry,” he said. “You’ll be perfectly safe—I’ll be with you the whole time. But we’re going to enjoy this, and I think you will, too.”
So I took off my clothes. Then I put on the blindfold glasses he handed to me.
He led me out of the room, stopped me, and put the sandals on my feet. Then he walked me a little farther, had me stop again, and muttered something. I felt his hands on my face, and had a bad feeling as I remembered his phrase, “body servant.” He put something around my neck, and then his hands left my head.
Then I felt him putting something around my neck again, a little lower down. I heard him say “Raise your arms,” from across the room, so I did. I felt him put something around my upper arms, and across my back. “You can put your arms down now.” Then nothing for a while.
He suddenly removed the blindfold glasses. I looked at him, and then saw that my head was on the kitchen table. Across the kitchen, my body stood by the counter, between the refrigerator and the sink. I was looking at my back. My body had straps around my upper arms and shoulders, holding a tiny package between my should blades, and atop the stump of my neck, there was a metal cap with an antenna.
“As you can see,” said Tom, “my guests are going to see your body in all its glory. But they’re going to assume you’re a robot. Your job is going to be serving drinks, and being available for us to enjoy, both visually and with our hands.” He stroked my breasts, and I felt my nipples perk right up. “You need to practice. From where your body is, you can reach into the refrigerator, the cabinet, and use the sink. Now, can you see this tray?”
“Yes,” I said.
“And you see it’s resting on these tubes. Put your hands into the tubes, reach in until you feel handgrips.” I did so. “Squeeze the grips.” I did, and heard clicks. “Now the tray is locked onto your forearms. The only way to release it is to put it back where it is, after I click this button.” He pointed to a button on a remote control he was holding. “You’re going to carry your tray into the dining room, where we’ll be playing cards, and pick up our empties. Then I’ll push the button, you’ll return to the kitchen, and release the tray on this holder. Then you are to prepare the drinks, put them on the tray, and lock it back onto your arms, as I’ve just shown you. Then you return to the dining room, where we’ll take the drinks. Then you can return to the kitchen, until we’re ready for you again.”
“And how am I going to know when you’re ready for me?”
“For that, I’m going to give you a choice. The first option is for me to take off your clit and use it as a push button.”
He’d taken off my clit once before, and attached it to the back of my throat. He wanted me to try being a real life Deep Throat, like in the movie. It was a really strange sensation, feeling his cock in my mouth, and at the same time stimulating my clit (which I felt from where it usually is). It was the first time I’d managed to come while giving a blow job, with no other stimulation to my body. And it was a really good orgasm.
But I didn’t want my clit to be a push button. “So what’s my other option?”
“Voice commands. I can speak into this remote, saying ‘Robot, walk,’ or ‘Robot, stop.’ And then you do whichever it is. Better?”
“I think so,” I said. I was willing to be a drink-serving sex object for Tom and his friends, but I didn’t want them squeezing my clit just to send me a signal.
“Okay, let’s try it.” He stepped out of the kitchen, and then, through a speaker I hadn’t noticed next to my head, his voice said, “Robot, walk.”
I started walking, realizing I couldn’t move my hands, because they were locked into the tubes holding up the tray. I followed the track out of the kitchen, quickly losing sight of my body.
“Robot, stop,” the speaker said, and I did.
Then I felt his hands stroking my ass.
“Robot, look at the monitor in front of you,” the speaker said. It flickered to life, and I saw Tom fondling my butt, from a camera up above the scene. He slapped my ass, and I felt it.
“Robot, root beer,” he said. Then “Robot, walk,” and I did, watching my body on the screen and feeling the tracks as I walked my body into the kitchen. I walked over to the counter, put the tray down, and felt the tubes unlock from my arms. I reached to the fridge, pulled out a root beer, put it on the tray, and then put my arms back into the tubes. The tray locked on, and I lifted it, being careful to hold my arms steady. Then I walked my body back out to the dining room.
“Robot, stop,” said Tom. On the screen, I saw him take the soda from the tray. Then he reached down under the tray, and I felt him stoke my lips and rub my clit.
He stopped just as I was getting close, and said, “Robot, walk.”
My body stood there in frustration, while my head was panting in the kitchen.
He slapped my ass. “Robot, walk.”
I walked my body back into the kitchen, and over to the counter, where I put the tray down. I heard a click, and discovered I couldn’t pick my arms up, nor remove them from the tubes under the tray.
Tom came into the kitchen. “Remember, your body is a robot. It must respond to each command, or my friends will know you’re a real person. Then they’ll wonder who you are, and I may have to tell them.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll be good,” I said, sheepishly.
“Also, remember that you can’t remove your arms from the tray until I push this button. So each time your body returns to the kitchen, place the tray on the counter, and then wait for me to push the button.”
He bent down, and kissed me. “Good robot. Now, you just wait here. My friends will be coming soon, and we’ll get settled, and then I’ll order our drinks. Then I’ll release the tray, and you’re on: prepare the drinks, put them on the tray, pick it up, and bring it in. But remember, don’t react if you feel someone touching your body: you’re just a robot.”
He walked out of the kitchen, and then came back in. “Forgot something.” And he turned off the monitor.
Looking at me, he said, “they won’t know who you are, and you won’t know who they are. This way, you won’t be embarrassed when you meet them sometime later.”
There wasn’t anything I could do while I waited. My body was tied to the tracks by the locked-on sandals—the tracks which didn’t come anywhere near the table, so I couldn’t reach my own head—and my hands were locked into the tray on the counter. My head “sat” on the table, and I watched my own ass wiggle as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.
A little later, I heard the doorbell, and voices, and then the bell rang again, and again.
Then I heard from the speaker: “Robot: one ale, two beers, one iced tea.”
The tray released my hands, and I pulled them out, straightening up my body. I got the drinks out of the fridge, put them on the tray, and put my hands back in the tubes, locking them in again. Then I straightened up my body, lifting the tray, and took a deep breath. “Here I go,” I thought, and walked my body out of the kitchen, slowly and tentatively.
“Robot, stop,” said Tom.
I stopped, and felt the tray get lighter as someone removed the drinks.
“Robot, walk,” said Tom.
I walked, and presently saw my body come back into the kitchen. I breathed a sigh of relief.
I put the tray down, and again, it locked to the counter without releasing my hands. Again I waited.
Eventually, Tom’s voice said, “Robot, chips.”
The tray released my hands, and I got chips out of the cabinet, poured them into a bowl, and put the bowl on the tray. The I picked it up and carried it out of the kitchen.
Tom’s voice said, “Robot, stop.”
I stopped, and someone removed the bowl of chips.
I almost jumped when I felt a rough hand squeeze my breast, but I think I managed to control it.
The hand stopped, and Tom’s voice said, “Robot, walk.”
I started walking, but after a few steps, Tom said “Robot, stop.”
I did, and steeled myself for another hand. This one, however, pinched my pussy lip, then stroked a little deeper inside. I was surprised to feel myself getting wet.
Then the hand stopped, and Tom’s voice said, “Robot, walk.”
Again, I walked a few steps. Again, Tom’s voice stopped me. Again, I expected a hand on my body.
This time, however, it was a mouth on my left nipple. The mouth sucked my nipple in, and I felt a bristly mustache around it. Tom doesn’t have a mustache. This unknown tongue flicked my nipple, up and down, up and down. The tongue knew what it was doing, as I felt myself getting turned on. Then a hand was pinching my butt, and I wasn’t sure what to feel.
Eventually, they stopped, and Tom’s voice said “Robot, walk.”
My body came back into the kitchen.
And that’s how it went for a couple of hours: orders for drinks, orders for snacks, stops to be fondled, and in between, waiting locked to the counter.
And each time, the desire within my body caused it to tremble more and more while it was locked to the counter, awaiting its next trip.
Then Tom’s voice said, “Robot, walk,” without ordering anything.
I picked up the tray and walked out of the kitchen.
“Robot, stop,” he said.
Then I felt a hand cupping my right breast, while another tweaked my right nipple. While that was going on, two more hands started paying attention to my left breast. And two more were on my ass. And another two on my pussy.
They were stroking, fondling, pinching, occasionally replaced by mouths. Back and forth, all over, and I was getting hotter and hotter, while trying not to move, to be Tom’s good robot.
Then Tom’s voice said, “Robot, cum.” And I did.
After Tom’s friends left, and I recovered from a mind-blowing orgasm, he came into the kitchen.
“Was it good?”
“I don’t like how you got me into that,” I grumbled, although just being a head on the table, it was kind of difficult to project anger, “but yeah, it was good.”
He smirked at me. “C’mere. I want to show you something.”
I stuck out my tongue at him.
“Oh, right. Here, let me help you.” He came over to the table, and picked up my head, cradling it in the crook of his arm.
He walked us into the living room, and lifted my head with his hands under my jaws and ears. Turning me to the mirror, he said, “I want to show you the… I guess I’ll call it a ‘shoe’ at the bottom of your neck. I take it that it wasn’t very uncomfortable sitting on it, right?”
“No,” I admitted.
He rotated my head a bit. “Okay, and here you can see that it’s locked on. That means the shoe stays on, and the head stays off your body, until I unlock it.”
“And how long will that be,” I asked.
“Well, at least until tomorrow. I have to go out. Michael, one of the guys who was here playing cards, is waiting for me in his car. He needs my help, and I’m going to crash at his place, so you’ll have a chance to enjoy your body without me.”
“Disconnected, like this?”
“Yes. I think you’ll find you can do some things you couldn’t. Try it; maybe you’ll like it.” And he carried me into the dining room.
Setting my head down on the dining room table, I watched as he took the straps off my shoulders, and then removed the metal cap from the stump of my neck atop my body. Under it, I saw, was another shoe like the one on the bottom of my head. It, too, had a lock on it. Then he unlocked the sandals from my body, freeing it from the tracks on the floor.
“All right, now you won’t be able to reconnect yourself while those shoes are locked on. So be careful,” he said. “Remember, you’ll have to carry your head, rather than not thinking about it as you do when it’s attached to your body. But see how you like it.” He picked my head up, and kissed me, deeply and lovingly. And after a moment, I returned it.
“Oh, and don’t worry about getting those shoes wet. They’re plastic, and the locks are rust-proof,” he said. “Good night.” He put my head down on the table, and walked out of the house.
I sat my body down in a chair, and fumed. How could he just leave me here? I muttered and grumbled for a few minutes.
Then I realized I was staring directly at my breasts: eyes to nipples, as it were. And that made me realize what Tom had been hinting at.
But before I did anything else, I needed a shower. So I stood my body up, reached to the table, picked up my head, and rotated it so I was facing away from myself.
It was a really strange feeling, seeing the world from a sitting height, even though I was standing. But I got the hang of it almost at once, and walked myself to the bathroom, where I put my head down on the counter, facing the shower.
After adjusting the water, I climbed in, and reached for the shampoo, before realizing my body had no need of it.
Instead, I reached for the soap and washcloth, and started soaping my body.
Almost immediately, I realized why Tom liked watching me in the shower. I have to admit, I was getting turned on watching myself soaping up. As long as I ignored the fact that there was no head on the body in the shower, it could have been any soft-core porn flick. It looked good and it felt good, my breasts all soapy and my hands running up and down my stomach and legs.
Eventually, I pulled myself out of the shower, dried off, picked up my head, and walked into the bedroom.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, out the corner of my eye, and turned to face the mirror. “Wait a minute,” I said out loud. “I don’t need a mirror, other than to look at my face.”
I turned my head around, and stretched out my arms to look at my body. It did look good.
Pulling my head in, I licked my nipple, for the first time without having to pull my breast toward my mouth. It felt good.
Then I lowered my head along my body, pulled it in to give my belly button a lick, and continued on down.
I was looking at my own pussy. Looking at it, from a range of inches, and wanting to see inside. But I couldn’t pull my lips apart with my hands holding my head. Instead, I kissed it, ran my tongue up the lips, and shuddered fiercely. “Definitely time to lie down,” I thought, so I did.
I put my head between my breasts, then brought my elbows together, pushing my breasts up and together. This had the effect of holding my head in a valley made by my breasts, and I was able to lick them a bit. “Not bad, but I can do better,” I thought.
I picked my head up, and put my mouth down over a nipple. I licked it, I nibbled it, I sucked it deep into my mouth, and I really enjoyed it. I felt my pussy getting wet, and remembered why I’d had to lie down.
I lifted my head off my breast and put it down between my legs.
My nose was about level with my clit, and my mouth was perfectly positioned for a little auto-cunnilingus. But first, I pulled my lips apart, to look inside myself.
It was a view I’d only seen in a mirror, and that awkwardly. Now it was an easy, direct view, and I just had to dive in and take a direct, unadulterated, taste of myself.
I almost couldn’t taste, as I was overwhelmed by feeling. I shivered, and my head rolled backward, taking my tongue out of my pussy.
I righted my head, and squeezed my legs gently together, holding my head in position. My thighs over my ears blocked out most sound, but there was nothing to hear, and there was everything to lick, fondle, and enjoy.
I licked myself to a quick orgasm, and then a little longer to another, and a third.
It was wonderful, but my tongue was getting a little tired, and I was feeling quite sated.
“I’ll just rest a moment,” I thought, and closed my eyes.
When I woke up, I knew I’d been asleep for several hours.
I woke to an aroma I wasn’t used to... ah, of course. I remembered, and I opened my eyes to find myself face to... well, staring at my own pussy.
“A little wake-up cunnilingus,” I wondered. “Sure, why not,” and got myself off for a nice start to the day.
Then I picked my head up, and started the day.
Breakfast was an awkward affair, and I decided not to risk hot coffee, but I was getting the hang of being in two pieces. I don’t know if it had increased my libido, or I was just playing because I could, but I was thinking about sex far more than usual.
I tried sitting on my own face, and while an orgasm is great, I realized that position is a bit more about dominance, and dominating my own disconnected head wasn’t really doing it for me.
Then I fucked myself with my favorite dildo, while watching from an angle more suited to a porno. The feeling was a lot better than just watching it on screen.
Eventually, I just needed a break. I sat down on the couch to watch some television, and put my head down on my own lap to watch. Another odd angle, but I got used to it quickly.
Then I heard the door open, and Tom walked in.
“That’s it,” he asked. “You spent the day just sitting there watching tv?”
“Not hardly. I just needed a break.”
He grinned at that, but made no move to put me back together.
“Well,” I said. “Are you just going to leave me in pieces?”
“Not forever,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “I’m just wondering if I want to take your body to bed, or your head. What do you think? A night of oral sex, or do you want to spend the night with your head on the dresser, watching your body have sex with me?”
I couldn’t very well tell him I wanted to try both, and many more things. But I knew we were both be in for lots of uncommon orgasms.
***
Iron Rodd's first collection of loving bondage stories, "Tied in to Love," is now available in print and electronic editions from all major online retailers.
Lauryn
- 27.02.2022
- 15
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