Laundry Day
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The Laundry Day free porn video
The Laundry Day
By strangefun
WARNING: This story contains graphic depiction of depraved sexual acts,
sisification, sexual abuse, humiliation and torture. Read at your own
discretion!
I always loved to hate the Laundry Day. You may ask, "What is a big deal?
Just load the washing machine, throw the clean stuff into the dryer and
fold!" Yes, in normal household that would be it. But in my case, the
Washing Machine is not washing clothes. It is torturing my bound, sealed
in latex form while I wash all the kinky, soiled things and toys from the
week before.
This Laundry Day began with me waking up, horny and frustrated as usual,
in a very uncomfortable and humiliating situation, but I'll come back to
that later. After being released from my "pajamas", trembling with
anticipation of the long, torturous and humiliating day, I take a shower
and shave fresh all over. After I am dried and powdered, a thick latex
full-body cat suit is stretched over my smooth form, compressing me,
covering every inch of my skin in white, shiny, intoxicatingly smelling
second skin. The thicker-than-usual latex limits my moments, and after
the addition of the heavy latex waist cincher, makes bending difficult.
The hood with open eyes, nose holes and mouth is a part of the suit, so
are the gloves and socks. Heavy latex posture collar holds my head
rigidly up. I am completely covered in heavy latex sans my crotch and
ass, leaving my straining penis hand freely. Well, not really freely,
since it is encased in tiny, tight, hard plastic cage. Being constantly
sexually teased and abused for the past week and not being allowed to cum
has turned me into a whimpering, horny sissy slut, eager to do anything,
perform any degrading and humiliating act, take anything and beg for more
without even a promise of release. My favorite state of being....
The cat suit zippers are hidden under the corset, and the corset itself
is locked - there is no way I can take any of it off, and the knee-high,
super-stiff white patent ballet boots that go on my feet next are locked
as well. Reinforced and double-layered patent holds my feet pointing
vertically down, making walking an insanely sexy-looking torture - it
took me a long time on the treadmill with my hands bound in a tight
sleeve behind me and a thick, "confortable" rope secured above with the
other end snuggled around my neck to catch me if I stumble.
I am now quiet proficient.
My hands are then secured behind my back and a ring gag is inserted
between my teeth, keeping my mouth wide-opened. My Owner enjoys leaving
me no choice when He abuses me - and it suites me well. I don't want any
choice; being just a piece of kinky, fuckable meat, used for somebody
else's pleasure and amusement is my biggest turn-on, and today I'll get
plenty of that.
Than, I am given my humiliating breakfast. Made to kneel between His
legs, my throat is unceremoniously pulled over His long, thick cock, and
I am riling between His legs as my face is impaled on it, my head held by
His strong hands, slowly pulling me over His cock, feeling the bulbous
head entering my throat, deeper and deeper, stretching it, cutting off my
air, until my latex-covered nose is flattened against His stomach. He
amuses himself for a while holding it in, making me gag constantly and
suffocating me, watching me suffer between His legs, than fucks my face,
slowly at first, enjoying the feeling of His cock's bulbous head sliding
through my gagging throat, than fast, fucking my throat deep and hard,
taking His time, slowing down so not to cum too quickly and prolong my
suffering humiliation, speeding up again, and, finally, grabbing my head
and impaling me completely on his raging morning erection, burying my
face in His stomach and cumming right into my stomach, saving the last
spray to spit it out of His cock all over my latex face, aiming for my
eyed and nose. Than, inserting His still hard cock back in my throat He
rests, letting it deflate there - I feel it slowly shrinking inside me,
creeping back up my throat towards my mouth, and, once there, delivering
another bit of torturous humiliation I crave so much - flooding my
helplessly-opened mouth with his acrid morning piss - and I know to
swallow every disgusting, humiliating drop. So, with my eyes tearing from
gagging and intense humiliation, I swallow and swallow, my mouth and nose
filled with the disgusting taste and smell that I came to hate, love and
crave so much...
Being used as a bound, choiceless urinal had always drove me crazy - such
intense level of humiliation is almost too much to bear. Riling impaled
on His cock, feeling my stomach filling up, smelling His piss and not
being able to resist in any way makes my horniness go to mind-paralyzing
frenzy, and I am on the verge of passing out from sensory overload, and
intense humiliation, swallowing, gagging, crying, feeling my imprisoned
cockette press uncomfortably against the tiny cage...
The acrid stream turns in to a trickle, and, finally stops. He pulls His
cock out of my mouth and wipes it on my latex face as I swallow the last
drops, shaking on my knees between His legs. This is only the
beginning...
Two inflatable rubber penis-shape dildoes are inserted into me, one into
my well-used face pussy, another into my well-used ass, and inflated
generously, so I can barely moan from the pressure inside my ass. The
bulbs are removed, so now I have no way to deflate either one of them by
myself. My cheeks are bulging under the tight latex and my ass is
stretched around overinflated cavity... I should hate this torture, this
degradation, I tell myself, but my compressed penis is pushing against
its tiny cage, betraying my suffering... I want more!
My hands are than freed, and, with his cum drying on my face and its,
latex and urine smells and tastes filling my senses, I am set teetering
on my ballet heels around the house, moaning and panting, to gather all
the used clothes and toys, bringing them to the laundry room, where the
Washing Machine stands.
Every time I gingerly walk into the Laundry Room, gracefully balancing on
my ballet heels, carrying a few things I can grab with my thick-latex-
covered fingers, I tremble at the sight of an evil-looking metal
contraption I am about to become a part of.
As I mentioned before, the Washing Machine does not wash clothes. I wash
everything by my latex-covered hands, while the insidious contraption
makes the process torturous for me and entertaining for my audience.
The Washing Machine stands in a middle of a large laundry room. There is
a pole, attached to a heavy platform on the floor and a pivoting short
horizontal beam at the crotch-level top. A ratcheting cuff is welded on
the front, and a hinged, long, thick, widening at the bottom black dildo
with penny-sized bumps, ominously sticking up in the back. As I stand
over it, the ratcheted cuff is closed tightly just behind my chastity
cage, and my body is strapped to a curved metal arm attached through the
hinge to the beam between my legs. It goes up along my back with metal
bands tightly encircling my compressed waist, chest and neck, holding me
rigidly in. The heavy steel collar on the top of the arm hosts the
contraption holding a long, semi-flexible silicone dildo inserted into my
mouth, held open by a ring gag, just enough to touch the back of my
throat when I stand straight.
After I am fully secured, the bumpy monster between my legs in slowly
inserted into my filled with lubricant ass, keeping me standing on my
ballet heels trying to keep it going in further ? the base of it widened
to a size just beyond the physical capabilities of my hole, and I moan
and cry into the dildo in my mouth, feeling every bump going in, getting
wider, going deeper, invading me, stretching me... It is so inescapable,
I cannot move away more than I already am, and it is pushed in all the
way and that locked to the curved, hinged metal lever, cleverly attached
to the pivoting base... I am now fully impaled on my ass, yet the dildo
on my mouth is just slightly pushing against the back of my throat.
When I have to bend, however, things change. Both dildos are ingeniously
hinged in a way that when I have to bend, the pivoting joints and levers
pull the bottom dildo out of my stretched ass, while pushing top one in,
down my throat ? the further I bend, the further the bottom one is pulled
out of my suffering ass while inserting the top one deeper into my
gagging throat, and since I am standing on the ballet heels, and the
sinks in front of me are at the normal waist level, I have to bend far
and deep.
Everything around me is cleverly designed so I have to bend and turn for
every task I need to do, for every piece of clothing or a toy that I have
to wash, and since the bumpy monster in my ass does not rotate, I had to
turn around it, feeling every bump along the way.
Another torturously clever thing about the Washing Machine was that it
can only be turned to the side when I stand up straight, so every task
for every item I had to wash involved a lot of bending, straightening and
turning.
A marvel of kinky, torturous engineering.
He is sitting, watching my slender, shiny, white latex-clad figure teeter
around the house in those torturous, sexy ballet boots, bringing the
items to the laundry room and placing them in the large basket, which
sounds much easier than it really is. Ballet heels, corset and the
posture collar means that I have to kneel to pick up every thing,
straining against the thick, tight latex, moaning from the pressure of my
overly inflated penis dildo inside my ass into the overly inflated penis
gag in my mouth. And all the sweat, drool, cum and piss-covered latex
suits, gags, hoods, pantyhose, panties, playsuits, dresses, leotards,
swim suits, plugs and dildos are all over the place, so I have to walk
and crawl all over the house to gather them. Having only my latex-covered
hands to carry them takes a lot of walking around the house, and, sealed
in my tight latex, filled to the almost unbearable brink on the inside
and compressed to almost unbearable level on the outside, I am pushing
through with my task under the satisfied gaze of my tormentor, knowing
that there is no way for me to avoid it, shorten it or make it in any way
easier.
Every time I bring another armful of kinky items to the laundry room, I
am faced with the instruments of my impending and inevitable sexual
torture, and I both dread it and yearn for it...
I am finally done gathering all the stuff that needs washing, and given a
short break, consisting of kneeling down between my captor?s legs and
gagging on His penis, inserted all the way down to his balls into my
throat. He takes his time, letting my legs rest a bit (such a caring
man!), and, after about half an hour of slowly sliding his dick back-and-
forth inside my throat, deposits another cumload into my mouth and on my
latex-covered face, smearing the smelly goo all over my second skin,
making sure it gets into my hose and eyes, making me feel so wonderfully
low... Than, getting me back on my super-kinky ballerina toes, He leads
me to the Laundry Room.
He makes me step over the center beam pulling me by my chastity cage, and
locks the welded cuff tightly around my already locked privates, just
behind the cage.
The tight metal band around my tiny corseted waist is locked next, than
the one around my flat chest and finally, the neck, gripped by the
posture collar. The dildo is inserted past my cum-covered lips, held open
by the ring gag, just to the back of my throat, but not in it.
With the loud hiss the plug in my ass is deflated and for the moment I
feel relief as it slides freely out of me and is thrown on the top of the
dirty pile, but only for a moment. I feel a generous amount of cool-
feeling lubricant squirted inside, than the dreaded bumpy dildo?s tip
fills the void inside me as it is slowly pushed in. I feel every bump
going in, moaning in torturous pleasure. Since I am standing vertically
up, it has to be pushed in all the way to be attached to the Machine, and
my tormentor takes no small amount of pleasure pushing it in, listening
to my whimpering moans above him. It is so big and thick and long and
bumpy! It fills me completely, past my tolerance point, and I desperately
want to bend forward to get some relief, but the Washing Machine is still
locked, and I suffer and endure, crying and moaning into the silicon
dildo in my mouth.
I finally hear the click of the bottom dildo being attached to the lever.
Than I feel him fiddling with my chastity cage, and I know what he is
doing. He is attaching the wires to the terminals of the contact pads
inside the cage, on both sides of my poor, starved for attention penis?s
head.
The Washing Machine is ready. I am standing on the toes of the ballet
boot, impaled ona giant bumpy monster. To the left of me, just below the
waist level, there is a large basket full of soiled kinky stuff. In front
of me, a sink with warm soapy water. To the right of me, there is an
empty sink for rinsing and the basket for the clean kinky stuff. Standing
in my ballet boots, fully impaled of the huge bumpy dildo and feeling
another one in my mouth, am anxiously waiting to be tuned on, so I can
begin my torturous and humiliating chore.
First electric pulse shooting through the super-sensitive head of my
imprisoned penis almost makes me jump, if that was possible. Instead, I
just squeal into the dildo in my mouth, as other pulses follow ? the
Washing Machine is on... moaning with every jolt, I turn to my left
making small steps with my ballet heels until I hear a click ? I can bend
now, and eager to relieve the enormous discomfort in my ass, I bend
forward. As I lean my body forward, moving the metal harness encircling
my upper body forward with the ratcheting sound and activating the
levers, the bumpy invader in my ass starts to slide out, providing
torturous but long-awaited relief, but at the same time the dildo in my
mouth is pushed in by the same clever levers, entering my throat,
traveling down my face fuckhole in unison with the bumpy monster being
pulled out of my ass by the same action.
The assault on the senses the double action is overwhelming, momentarily
overshadowing even the electrical impulses shooting through the most
sensitive part of my body, and I have to master all my strength to stay
up on my ballet boots. I forget why I am bending, dazed by the
simultaneous opposite penetration. The long dildo entering my throat
quickly replaces the horny moans with gagging, it is going deeper and
deeper as I am bending forward, and, as the telephone pole is pulled out
of my quivering ass, the bumps on the dildo make me feel every one of
them passing through my sphincter.
I have to bend deep - the ratcheting mechanism would not release and
allow me to strengthen back up until I bend all the way forward,
inserting all twelve inches of the dildo into my throat, and, delirious
with overstimulation, I keep bending forward, impaling my throat on the
long thick dildo, feeling my ass being turned inside out by retreating
bumpy monster.
A click announces the release of the ratchet, ant it takes me a moment to
remember what I need to do ? with my throat fully impaled on a twelve-
inch dildo and my sphincter contracting round the groove below the bumpy
monster?s head, I grab the one of the items on the top of the pile ? a
pair of heavy-latex shorts with a hood attached to the crotch by the hood
mask?s mouth, and the memories of the previous night spent bound with
those shorts zipped tight around His ass and that hood zipped tightly
around my head, His entire exhausted package stuffed in my ring-gagged
mouth.
I was literally His dick holster, and He did not have to get up to pee in
the middle of the night either...
I felt myself blushing under the latex, and, with the need to breathe
getting more urgent, I start to straighten up, feeling the dildo being
pulled out of my stomach, as the widening pole starts it?s torturous
journey back all the way in, pushing its bumps through my sensitive ass,
filling it once again, making me dizzy with horniness, as eclectic shocks
zip through my penis... such an exquisite torture, and I haven?t even
started washing the first item...
As I straighten up, the top dildo is leaving my throat and I can moan
again, as I am slowly, torturously and fully impaled on the bottom one by
my own action. Hearing the click and moaning from the unbearable fullness
in my ass, I turn on my ballet toes towards the soapy-water sink. Click ?
and, taking a deep breath, holding the cum and piss-stained latex
garment, I begin to bend forward, repeating the impalement of my throat
and once again feeling every bump on it?s way out of my perpetually
abused ass.
Bent forward, throat fully impaled, I wash the kinky garment with my
latex fingers, knowing that if I start straightening up sooner that
thirty seconds, I?ll receive a nasty shock to my privates, but since
there is no clock, I have to count slowly to thirty, which is, in my
position, is especially torturous.
I wash the various dried body liquids out of all the nooks and crannies
of the supple latex gaarnment, struggling to keep the count with my
throat spasming around the dildo and my feet straining and cramping
inside those beautiful, torturous ballet boots. When the count is over
and my lungs are burning from the lack of air, I start straightening back
up, repeating the gagging pulling of the long cock out of my throat,
feeling it?s head travel through my deep face pussy and impaling my ass
once again on the bumpy construction cone.
Click. Moan. Bend. Gag. Rinse. 28... 29... 30... Straighten up. Click.
Shake. Drop the clean item in the basket. Long turn back towards the big,
smelly pile. Click. Repeat.
Every single thing I wash requires this torturous process repeated over
and over again... I am in sexy hell, or torturous heaven, either way,
impaled, shocked, suffocated, cramped, I am delirious with humiliation,
shame, discomfort, and insane, all-consuming horniness... I know he is
watching me. He is not alone ? there are cameras, staring at me with the
eyes of dozens loyal perverts watching my struggle live on the internet
from different angles, and that thought makes me even hornier.
They will have their fun with me later, when I am bound, splayed,
moaning, screaming, begging to stop doing the things they have came up
with to make me moan, scream and beg... But that?s later. Now...
Now, every time I straighten up, the dildo in my mouth is pulled out of
my throat, and every time I begin to bend, it is inserted anew, making
every insertion feel as torturous as the first one. Every time I bend,
the bumpy dildo in my ass is pulled out until only the narrower head
remains inside, and every time I straighten up it is inserted fully
inside, making every insertion feel as torturous as the first one. My
gagging, gasping for air moans are picked up by a sensitive microphone
and transmitted along with multiple viewing angles of my latex-covered,
bound and tortured form to the world. The dirty pile on the left is very
slowly getting smaller, the clean wet pile on the right is slowly getting
bigger, as I am getting more and more exhausted and delirious with
overstimulation. I haven?t? cum in a week, a week of constant sexual use
and abuse, I so want to cum, I will die if I don?t cum, I cannot take
this any more, please let me cum... Please...
The mechanized torture goes on for eternity. As I get tired and more
hysterical, I cannot keep count, and cannot even scream with my throat
fully impaled on the dildo when I try to straighten up before thirty
seconds pass and a painful shock is delivered to my poor dickie?s little
pink head, and I trash in my bonds, racked with humiliating pain, hearing
the pings of flooding comments from my invisible audience. The part of
the entertainment they?ve been waiting for is beginning!
I know that I have no choice but to finish my torturous, humiliating,
degrading task and I push through, impaling my throat and my ass in turn
several times for every little thing I have to wash, and there are so
many of them! In a haze, legs shaking, hands trembling, ass and throat
repeatedly invaded, penetrated, stretched, emptied and invaded again,
moaning, gagging, crying, I turn, and bend, and straighten, and turn, and
bend, and endure, passionately loving every torturous, humiliating second
of this! Loving being part of that ingenious, evil torture device, loving
the tightness of my outfit, the forceful penetration of my throat by the
dildo, the impaling of my ass, the smell of latex, cum and piss filling
my nostrils, loving being watched by a virtual crowd of loyal perverts,
loving being an abused sissy fuckdoll! And when the last kinky thing is
rinsed and placed in the clean bin, totally spent and exhausted, I feel
almost sorry that there are no more things to bend for. I stand moaning
and sobbing, my ass fully impaled on a giant bumpy monster, waiting to be
released for a short break before my next task ? hanging the cleaned
items outside on the clothe line to dry, out in the back yard, exposed to
the world in my submissiveness and humiliation...
I wander, what will I be doing during the break?
From the author: I hope you enjoyed the story. Write a review; let me
know what you think! Or talk to me directly at [email protected]
(yahoo chat: strangefun2)
Stay strange!
Gert
- 18.10.2020
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