Roles
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Roles free porn video
Roles
By Karen Hansen
Terri was right. The visions were appearing before
my eyes, images of men and women bound... gagged...
dressed and/or wrapped in all sorts of attire and
materials... or nothing at all. Their helpless
forms being teased, caressed, pinched, bit, flogged
and, generally, used in every imaginable manner by
beautiful, intelligent, dominant women wearing high
heeled boots, corsets and wicked grins as they doled
out whatever pleasure or pain they saw fit.
The scenes were so realistic I could almost reach out
and touch them. It was as if a video tape were being
replayed inside my head. More accurately, it was like
being in a sensory deprivation tank, and that was no
small wonder, since I was totally isolated from the
outside world. This was no ordinary deprivation
experience, however. I was encased in various leather
restrains and strapped, securely, to our waterbed.
My own stupidity and selfishness had placed me here.
How long I would remain a prisoner of my lover, only
she knew. I had been tried, convicted, sentenced and there
is no court of appeal from Terri's judgment.
From the first day of our relationship, we had enjoyed
an ideal master/slave relationship; ideal from my
standpoint as master, anyway. As our household income
increased, so did our bondage collection. Each new
issue of a bondage house catalog brought into our home
a treasure chest of leatherwear, customs/outfits, boots
and bondage gear for my 5'7", 130 pound, busty, golden
-haired lover's enslavement.
Gradually our collection outgrew the bedroom closets,
so we converted one end of our basement into a bondage
playroom. Leather cuffs, harnesses and hoods adorned
the walls, and the wooden storage cases I
built along the walls held countless pairs of high
heeled boots, spandex and leather outfits, bondage
books and videotapes. The highlight of the chamber was a
customized waterbed with heavy wooden posts at the
corners. The bed was located in the center of the room
under some spotlights and was permanently equipped with
leather wrist, ankle, thigh and elbow cuffs,
strategically placed to enable me to secure Terri
in a spread eagled position (or any other position I
would try on her). The cuffs were padded and unless all
the slack was taken out, were comfortable enough to be
worn for extended periods.
Once, I had kept Terri trussed to the bed for an
entire weekend, most of the time blindfolded and
gagged in a leather discipline helmet which was
removed only for brief nourishment breaks or to
please me. When I finally released her late
Sunday afternoon, she just lay there for half an hour,
too exhausted to move. The vibrating dildo I had
locked inside her chastity belt Friday night had done
it's job, keeping her arousal at fever pitch for the
better part of the weekend before it's batteries had
given out. I practically had to carry her to our bathroom,
lay her into the tub and bathe her to bring her around.
Needless to say, it was all worth it seeing the
exhausted, silly grin on her face.
About a year ago Terri took a job at one of area's B&D
houses, La Maitresse, in order to earn some extra cash
for a new car. Initially hired as a submissive, she
occasionally substituted as dominatrix when the house
was busy or one of the other dominants missed work.
It was a new experience for Terri, one that she found
hard to reconcile with her submissive role at home.
She had discovered such talents in enslaving men and
women that her bosses soon assigned her the task of
dominating the club's high-paying regular members.
The regulars began asking for her, and it was not
uncommon for her to bring home several hundred dollars
an evening in "tips". In fact, her unreported income
for the year was in five figures.
Despite all this, she was in turmoil. During the day
judges, professional athletes and business executives
were put into humiliating bondage, made to crawl and beg
for more, pleading for her touch. Yet at home it was she
who was held captive in leather collars, cuffs and harness,
waiting on me hand and foot. Although I didn't realize
it at the time, Terri had decided that the time had
come to change the terms of our relationship.
For the past few months, she had become more and
more insistent that I spend some time in the leather
restraints that filled our basement playroom,
restraints in which she had spent countless sweaty,
writhing hours of sexual frustration and/or forced
ecstasy. She argued that only by experiencing the
slave's sensations of anxiety and helplessness
could I become a truly knowledgeable, insightful
master. There was a certain logic to her argument,
what with "sauce for the goose" and all that.
Besides, I had never really been on the receiving
end. I thought maybe I could learn something new.
Unfortunately, in my haste to attain a higher degree
of domination and bondage expertise, I had failed to
notice the subtle changes that were transforming my
lover from a meek, subservient handmaid into
an assertive woman. Terri had never been overly
style-conscious. Lately, though, the mid-length
skirts and prim starched white tops had been tossed
by the wayside. She was dressing more like a
younger female; wearing jeans and shorts that barely
hung on her hips, tight half tops that exposed her
belly, when she wasn't some tight leather outfit;
than a suburban woman (not that I was complaining...
she definitely had the body to pull off the look).
Through her dress, her career and her friends she
had become an assertive, confident, even aggressive
woman, and she had begun planning a way to turn the
tables on me. Earlier that week she had bluntly
stated that the bondage games were at an end unless
I consented to spend some time in the restraints.
Looking into her large, green eyes I could tell she
was dead serious about this.
I came home from golfing one day, tired and hungry,
I was expecting to have a meal and to go another
round about switching places. I come into our
living room to find my lovely Terri sitting on the
couch wearing this little white blouse (wear she'd
tied the ends in a knot to show her tummy) a plaid
skirt, white socks and penny loafer... looking like
the hottest school girl I'd ever seen. Laughing out
loud, I told her this was one of the most wonderful
homecomings I'd ever had, as I came to where she was
seated.
She stood and leaned forward as to kiss me
then pulled away at the last moment, telling me,
"Why don't you take a shower? Then we can relax and
chat."
'Here it comes again,' I thought to myself at first
but looking at the twinkle in her eyes, it wouldn't
hurt to hear whatever she had to say I told myself.
Forgetting how hungry I was, I took a quick shower,
I came into the room to see Terri curled up on the
couch with a bottle of my favorite wine and some glasses.
Feeling amiable, after a couple of rounds, I soon found
myself seriously discussing her request to trade roles
at the Sloan's New Year's costume party.
"Ahhh! That's what with the get-up!" I said, totally
forgetting the party was coming. Terri responded with
a sly wink and a smirk.
"I thought I might wear this but I have a couple of
other ideas."
The previous year I had gone as an 18th
century slave-trader, and Terri as a sort of
punk-slavegirl. Rather than wear the traditional
chains and manacles, Terri had been fitted with a
leather single sleeve armbinder, a chastity belt and
ankle cuffs. She'd never failed to attract the
interest of all the men (as well as a few of the
women) that leered and made suggestive comments as to
the going rate for a night of dominating this slave.
Her long, blonde hair had contrasted beautifully with
the black leather of her restraints as she tossed
her curls poutily from side to side. As the
evening progressed her leather prison had grown more
uncomfortable, and partly due to the abundant amounts
of alcohol furnished by the Sloans, Terri had become
really horny. By this time, I was off in the Sloan's
bedroom with some of the other female guests, and
Terri had been left to the mercy of wicked pirates,
leather bikers and other amorous costumed party
attendees, protected only the locked chastity belt.
As we reminisced back to that heated experience,
Terri's soothing voice, hot looks and the wine had
had the desired effect on me, and finally I'd relented
and agreed to play the part of the slave. She
suggested we see what would fit and work on my 6'0",
190 pound frame. She told me to wait here as she
got up and left the room for a moment. She returned
with a thin leather collar I would have her wear as
a quiet reminder when we were out of the house of
'whom owned whom'.
"Not happening." I said firmly.
"Ohhh, c'mon! It's part of your costume." she pleaded.
I shook my head 'no'. "It's always our little secret.
And I knew better than to ask you to put on the thick
slave collar you have me wear."
We stood there in silence for a minute until Terri
decide to take another tack. Slowly, her 'puppy eyes'
came out... then her full lips fell into a pout. To
top it off, she played up the school girl look by
rolling one foot on the toe of her shoe and pivoting
her body back and forth.
I mentally yelled, "Fuck! I hate it when she does that!"
Usually the pout and the eyes are bad enough. We stood
there for another minute before my rampart began to
breach.
"That was a cheap shot." I said in a dead pan tone.
"Did it work?" she asked, not breaking eye contact
or the look on her face.
I took a moment to shallow the last of my pride. "OK."
I sighed. My lover's expression could only be
described as the look of a kid on Christmas morning.
"Tell you what... you don't have to wear it or
any collar at for the party." That made me feel a
little better about giving in.
Terri then sat on the arm of the couch, crossed her
legs and said in her most sweetest voice,
"Strip and kneel, Lover."
It seemed fruitless to argue at this point, so I
slowly removed the robe I was wearing and knelt before
Terri. I had to say there was something a little
exciting about being given orders... to be looked upon
as something owned or a sex object. Looking up I don't
think I've ever remembered seeing as big a grin on her
face as she had then.
"I think you're enjoying this a little too much,
MISTRESS!" The last word sent her into a fit of giggles.
She stood up, bent over and kissed me deeply,
attaching the collar around my neck.
"Mmmmmm... I like the way that sounds. Stand please."
she said, grinning.
I stood up, replying, "Yes, Mistress." I was
getting turned on just seeing the sparkle in her
eyes at this one lousy word. She planted little
kisses and nibbles on my neck and lips before
gently grasping my semi-hard member and leading
me down to the basement.
Standing next to the waterbed, I was then ordered
to put on the white two-piece spandex bodysuit she
had pulled out for me. I got lost in the sensation of
her hands as she caressed my chest and teased my
manhood while I pulled on the smooth material. She
reached for the chastity belt. It was strapped on
tightly, then locked with padlocks in front and back.
Even with my hands free, there was no way I could
get it off, but I would not even have that
opportunity.
Terri then said, "I have a couple of ideas for your
costume. Let's try this on to see what you think
and how it looks." as she reached into a storage
closet and pulled out the single sleeve we had
nicknamed the "The Spanish Inquisition." I knew
just from her comments while held in it, that it
was very narrow and held the elbows closely
together. It was equipped with straps that crossed
under the armpits and buckled to the top of the
binder to prevent the wearer from slipping it down
the arms and gaining their freedom. It also had been
equipped with 3-inch wide straps that reached around
the torso and buckled in front. As if that weren't
enough security another strap connected the bottom
of the binder to the lower belt by coming up
through the crotch.
This was quite a challenge for Terri to secure, since
I was already in the chastity belt, but by connecting
a shorter strap she was able to complete the link,
thus pinioning the binder to my body. Finally, after
nibbling and kissing my shoulders, a thick collar
was placed around my neck and joined to the top of the
binder. Just the sight of it would have discouraged
Houdini, so you can imagine how I felt as Terri
tugged, strapped and buckled me into utter
helplessness.
Not intending to allow me any more mobility than I
had allowed her, she locked a pair of 3-inch patent
leather cuffs on my ankles and connected them with a
1-foot chain. I was effectively hobbled. I assumed
this was sufficient restraint, as any more would
prevent me from moving easily to and from the car
or anywhere at the party. But Terri was not done yet.
She buckled a set of thigh cuffs on, then reached
for the leather discipline helmet.
"Hold it!" I protested. "That wasn't part of the
costume you wore last year."
She just smiled and replied, "Kevin, you know slaves
don't argue or give mistresses orders." The hood was
placed on, zipped down the back and, to my added
distress, padlocked. As much as I enjoyed her playing
with my body's desires, I was beginning to get scared.
After all, this was the first time I had worn any kind
of serious restraints and Terri was giving me the
full treatment the first time out. I began to voice
my objections when she grabbed my hooded face and
kissed me long and deeply. Suddenly, she broke the kiss,
wedged a good sized leather bit of a gag into my
mouth and snapped it in place. I panicked and began
thrashing about in my bonds as she stood there,
grinning from ear-to-ear at me, looking into my shocked
filled eyes.
It was only then that I realized how well she had
learned the art of restraint. I could neither escape
nor request release and Terri knew it. She pushed me
onto the bed and straddled my body. I bucked and
squirmed under her, grunting from behind the helmet
to release me or at least slow down. She leaned down
caressing, pinching, scratching and groping at my chest
and nipples through the spandex... playfully slapping
my hooded face as she looked down upon me. I'm not
sure what I was feeling more of: arousal and fear.
Looking into her eyes, her attention was drawn to a
night stand out of my sight. Her hand reach over and
brought back a pair of wooden clothes pins.
"Remember these?" A month ago I had place them on her
erect nipples for a minute or two. I was kicking
myself for not putting those damned things away. I'd
be understating to say she would have appreciated it
if I had told her what I had planned before we had
started and not after she was gagged. Now, I was in
the middle of a Quantum Leap episode, playing Terri's
role of the helpless victim, wild eyed and shaking my
head 'no' as she pulled down the neck of the spandex
top and clipped a pin on each nipple.
I'm not sure how much time had passed. All I knew was
my nipples were on fire and I couldn't see or
think because of the pain. All I could do with writhe,
squirm and scream into the gag.
When I was finally able to get some composure back
she then rolled me over onto my stomach (making me
yelp and groan again because of the clothes pins)
I learned the reason for the thigh cuffs. Sitting on
my back, Terri unlocked the hobble chain connecting
my ankles. Next, she reached down and pulled first
one ankle, then the other back to my thighs and
tethered them to the thigh cuffs, left ankle to right
thigh and vice-versa. I found myself in a highly
immobilizing cross-legged hogtie which was growing
stricter with the new application of straps she was
adding around my legs.
Terri clipped a leash to the D-ring at the top of
the helmet and tied the other end to the headboard of
the bed. She ran a second strap from the bottom of
the arm binder to the other end of the bed, pulling
tight to remove any hint of slack. Two other straps
ran from the sides of the bed to my chastity belt to
prevent lateral movement. Terri stood up, examined
her handiwork, and proceeded to explain what was in
store for me.
"Well, Kevin, how does it feel to be on the
receiving end for a change? Exciting... sexy...
erotic... lustful? I'm willing to bet not quite as
much fun, huh? Tonight, we begin a new chapter in
your little black bondage book. Let's call it
'Evening the Score', shall we? I was originally
planning to either wait until you were asleep tonight
and blindside you or perhaps coax some of our friends
at the party to ambush you. But then I thought why
should I go through all that trouble when all I really
needed to do was flash my charms (out of the corner
of my eye I could see her cupping and caressing her
breasts), get you to start thinking with the wrong
head... and make sure you don't have anything to eat
with a few glasses of your the favorite wine." My
anger boiled at being tricked as I bucked and
squirmed as much as the restraints would allow,
yelling muffled orders to Terri to release me. All
my anger got me were pinches and rakes across my body
with her fingernails.
"I've done a little research on our games. Do you
know how much time I've spent in these restraints
since we moved in together, lover? At 5 hours a week
for three years, it adds up to 780 hours, or 32 days.
Let's just call it an even month. In order to balance
the ledger, you are going to spend an equal amount of
time in bondage." When I heard that, I knew my
worst fears were confirmed. I attempted to thrashed
wildly in my bonds, but Terri had been thorough and
I was held fast.
"Since your next job doesn't start for a few weeks,
we will start counting down your sentence from this
evening." She walked into the dressing room, beginning
to remove her school girl outfit. I tried to yell out
to her, but all that emerged were unintelligible
groans. When Terri returned to the bedroom, she posed
in front of me, one hand on her hip, the opposite leg
thrust out provocatively. She had squeezed into a
pair of skintight black jeans, the kind with the
zipper at the bottom of the legs to allow an even
tighter fit (I had always commented before that she
would have to scrape those jeans off at the end of
the evening). A silky red top, red belt and red,
strappy, high heeled pumps completed the outfit.
Even tethered, hogtied and gagged, I was becoming
more and more aroused. I had never seen her looking
so sexy! And when I thought of tagging along after
her on a leash at the Sloan's party, watching her
flirt with other men, or even more, it affected me
profoundly. Suddenly I wanted her, yearned for her
more than ever before. She must have seen something
in my eyes, for she leaned close and whispered,
"I'm going out with the girls this evening. There'll
be plenty of gorgeous men out tonight. And we won't
even talk about who's going to be at the party, so
I want to look my best. It's a shame you won't be
there to see what a splash I make!" I groaned and
struggled desperately, my desire for Terri quickly
turning into intense frustration.
"Isn't it going to be fun to see what's it like
to be 'my' little toy for a while? You know you
could have made this easy on yourself by playing
fair and giving in now and then. Oh well... live
and learn. Remember all those evenings you seduced
me into restraints, telling me it was going to be a
'quickie', tempting me with promises of oral pleasures,
only to be released hours later after being your
plaything? Now you can please your Goddess for hours
on end while I decide whether or not to let your
desires go unfulfilled!" I groaned at the thought,
whimpering that we... I was just playing... having fun
from behind the gag.
Then she dangled the final touches of my punishment
before my eyes. One was a small gold dog tag with the
words "slut slave" engrave on it I had given her as
a gift. She said she like it but I never remember
her wearing it.
"Can't let this go to waste." she said as she attached
it to the thin leather collar around my neck. All I
could do was growl at her. "Now you know why I don't
want to wear it." she snapped with her green eyes
narrowing. I whimpered, "I'm sorry" from behind the
gag, which brought a small smile to her lips. Another
was the snap-on blindfold attachment to my discipline
helmet, and the last was the stereo headset connected
to the VCR.
"I thought you might like to experience what my
customers go through every day at the club. All of
them address me as 'Goddess Terri' or 'Ma'am'...
but for you, I love the way the words 'Mistress' sounds
coming from you lips." Over my muffled protests she
snapped the blindfold on, consigning me to total darkness
and isolation.
"I videotaped the highlights from several sessions.
You'll have to use your imagination on the visual part,
but I'm sure you'll have no difficulty. The audio will
come in loud and clear the minute I leave to meet the
girl's. But don't worry about being alone. I have
Andrea, my co-worker, coming over to house sit while
I'm out. She's the best friend a new domme could ever
have. She was so caring when I was learning how to handle
the customers, I wouldn't know what I'd do without her.
In fact, in her marriage she's only dominant and her
husband is completely submissive. She has plenty of
training ideas and strategies if we... uhhh, I mean 'I'
decide you'll want to try out being submissive for three
to six months. So remember, if you hear someone in the
room or feel a pinch, flog or spank... it'll be her.
She'll be down now and then to check on you and take
notes for ideas. Oh Gawd! And she loves to tickle!"
I let out what must have been a cross between a cry
and a gurgle, begging my power-crazed lover not to do
any of this... pleading for release, as Terri began
taping the headphones to the helmet. I was totally cut
off from the outside world, and would be until Terri
released me. As a last gesture of mastery, she ran a
sharp fingernail up the inside of my thigh, then leaned
over close to my leather encased head and said with a
laugh in her voice, "Happy New Year, slave!"
Cayleigh
- 29.11.2022
- 27
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