Bondage in the urban wasteland
- 4 years ago
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Bondage In The Urban Wasteland free porn video
It wasn't easy to find the right spot - but I looked and looked - it had to be perfect: industrial, abandoned, out in the open, yet secluded. Finally, after three days of driving endlessly through the wasteland of closed factories, chemical plants and cavernous assembly lines at the edges of our metropolis, I found it: a drainage ditch stretching itself from an old tannery long since abandoned. At the head of the ditch, which was about eight feet deep, was a series of iron railings and several pipes - this was perfect - I had anchor points at the waist, at head height and could easily bind feet as well.
Next, I stashed my kit - it was obvious no one had been here for years on end - although the walls and bed of the drainage were stained, you couldn't smell the tanning chemicals any more - this place had been abandoned without even boarding up the windows. Not even the large homeless population seen lurking throughout this industrial wasteland of shattered towers and silent smokestacks frequented this place.
Next, the come-on.
"Hey baby, what are you doing Saturday morning?" I asked on the phone, knowing that she would be willing to do anything I told her to do.
"Sir, you know my time is yours." Such a good girl. So unwittingly willing to step into my trap. Our discussion of this particular scene had been intermittent. I knew she wanted it, she knew I wanted it. But the details never made themselves apparent in our post debauchery pillow talk.
Our conversation wrapped itself up as it usually does, she telling me how deeply she desired my attentions, me telling her "Soon, my good girl. Soon."
Saturday morning, and our usual haunt - a quaint little Victorian with gingerbread trim, now a coffee shop and book store favored by hunched over introspects, noses deeply buried in volumes they were too "impoverished" to purchase, yet a $4.00 espresso sat cooling on the table before them.
I would never understand people's slavery to image, yet my fascination with the human subject brought me back to this place over and over, and it was, after all, where I met this little waif of a girl, midnight hair and raven black eyes, curled in an overstuffed chair with a ponderous volume of De Sade's works perched in her lap.
De Sade aside, she and I had hit it off, and the subject of BDSM easily rolled into our conversation. That conversation ended, after three hours, with a trip to my house and her first introduction to the world she read of so voraciously. Her naked body gleaming with sweat, strapped to a beam and shaking with an overload of sensation and orgasm. We'd been lovers, partners and Dom/sub ever since.
We were quiet over our coffees - not much beyond a quick bus upon greeting and knowing looks. I was comfortable with that - she knew I had something special planned, and that I wouldn't reveal my plans to her. She was comfortable with that, but I could see her excitement and anticipation plainly. Purposely, I took my time. Anticipation is a powerful aphrodisiac.
As we walked toward my car, I slipped a hand into my pocket and pulled out her collar. "Put this on and keep silent."
She immediately complied, as I knew she would.
We got into the vehicle, and suddenly, forcefully, I grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head into my lap. Her hands automatically few up to her head, as I knew they would, giving me the opportunity to snap a handcuff roughly over one wrist. With a slight twist, her arm was completely under my control, and I quickly captured her other wrist, securing them one-handed before letting go of her hair.
She opened her mouth to protest and I slapped her - not hard, but firmly enough that she understood my point. I locked the cuffs and then put a black cloth hood over her head.
"Do not speak," I instructed her. "If you speak, I will gag you. Nod if you understand."
I could see her struggling heroically to control herself - she was genuinely scared, which is what I wanted, but she also knew I would not harm her. She nodded, her shoulders trembling a little as she began to shake.
"Good. You will not be harmed as long as you obey," I said as I backed out of my parking space.
I was not worried about her figuring out where we were going during the drive. My carefully chosen spot was too far from our normal haunts for her to realize where we were going.
I pulled in behind the abandoned tannery, smiling to myself as I got out of the car. A quick glance had shown that I was correct in my assumption that this was the perfect spot - my toy bag was exactly where I had left it a few days before. No one frequented this spot.
I reached under her hood to grasp her long hair, which she had worn in a pony-tail, and dragged her from her seat roughly. She gasped at how rough I was with her, and I slapped her with my other hand.
"No talking. I will have to gag you if you make another sound."
I shoved her toward the steps leading down into the canal - a service access left from the days when someone actually worked in this godforsaken wasteland. Although I was very rough, I supported her just enough to get her down the stairs without an actual injury. The last thing I wanted was to end this scene with a trip to the emergency room to treat a twisted ankle.
I shoved her over the waist-high pipe at the bottom of the steps - her stomach against the rusted steel and the tips of her toes barely holding her to the ground. It was the perfect height to keep her off her balance.
I dragged my bag from it's hiding space with one foot, maintaining contact with her, keeping her head pushed down over the pipe as I unzipped the bag and removed two sets of steel shackles.
Hooking my fingers into the waist of her tight jeans, I yanked her back upright.
"I see the way you dress, you little cunt," I whispered harshly in her ear. "Girls like you turn my stomach. Dressing like street whores, just to try and entice men like me to try to fuck you. You do that on purpose, don't you?
"Don't speak!!!" I yelled into her ear as she began to stammer a reply. "I warned you!"
I grabbed her hair through the hood, yanking down and back, forcing her head back and her mouth open. I pulled the ball gag from my bag and crammed the ball into her mouth, the hood still over it as well, knowing that the combination of cloth over the ball gag would make the gagging even more unpleasant. I buckled the gag behind her head, effectively strapping the hood into place, and then picked up a steel shackle again.
Deftly, I maneuvered her toward me, spinning her to face me and snapping a shackle over one wrist. Then, I unlocked the cuff on that wrist and yanked the shackle upward toward the pipe that ran parallel to the waist-high one she'd just been bent over, but a little behind it. There was a "t" joint there, and one on the other side, just a little more than arm's width apart from each other - perfectly placed. I snapped the shackle shut over the joint, stretching her right arm and forcing her to bend back toward the anchor point.
I grabbed the cuffs, still dangling from her left wrist, and yanked her arm toward the other anchoring "t" joint, effectively pinning her, bent backwards, small of her back against the waist-high pipe, toes barely on the ground.
I stepped back for a moment, admiring her form as she stood there, arms spread wide, breasts forced upward as her body bent so awkwardly.
"Now, slut, you will find out what it is that so pisses me off about your whorish ways," I whispered, leaning close in to her and smelling her fear, as well as her arousal.
I pulled a very sharp knife from my bag, and began by slipping the tip under her leather belt. Slowly, knowing how much she loved this particular belt, as I had purchased it for her, I slit the leather, the sharp blade of the knife cutting smoothly through it. I could feel her wince as the last of the hide separated with a little "pop". I yanked the belt from her waist-band, ripping a few belt-loops from her jeans in the process. Stepping back, I quickly doubled the belt and brought it down across her breasts, a satisfying "snap!" ringing through the air.
"Slut!" I harangued her, dropping the belt as I heard her sob through her gag.
Quickly, I slid the knife tip-down into the waistband of her tight jeans, the back of the blade against bare skin. She never wore panties when she came to meet me - she had learned that lesson the first time we met.
I sliced the knife downward, pulling the denim from her with my other hand, running the tip down the inside of her thigh, cutting downward and freeing her leg of the jean's form-fitting embrace. The other leg followed just as swiftly, and she stood, bare-assed, bent backwards, arms spread and chained.
"That is better," I said, brushing the top of her mound with the back of my hand. She reacted instantly to that touch, breath sucked in through her nose, her body trembling and breath coming even quicker.
"You filthy, slutty little cunt. Parading around in your tight-ass jeans, your push-up bra and your low-cut little tramp shirt," I spat, cutting her shirt from bottom to collar.
"I'll show you what happens to slutty whores like you!"
Now down to bra, hood and ankle-high black boots, her body shivered. I bent down and quickly shackled her ankles together over the boots. I would let her keep her sexy little boots.
"Let's see if your hooker tits look good without that push-up bra, tramp!" I hissed, cutting the front open and leaving the bra hanging form her magnificent breasts, just beginning to redden from the blow I had delivered.
"Ah! You do have nice tits, don't you, you little cunt?" I asked her, relishing the tremors coursing through her body in response to my rough voice.
I picked up the belt again, stepped back and began to systematically beat her breasts with it, painting stripes of red pain across each in turn. She loved it when I tortured her breasts like this, and I could see her visibly relax into the pain, as best she could, secured as she was.
Her breasts red, I dropped the belt and pulled a pair of clothes pins from my bag.
"Sluts like you like pain, don't you?" I snapped, placing each clothes pin on a nipple.
I then reach down and pulled out her butterfly vibrator, snapping the little straps in place and pushing it down so that it covered her clit.
"You're going to come for me, whore. You're going to come and come while I beat you. You are going to show me what a trashy, nasty tramp you really are," I spat, turning the remote attached to the vibe to it's highest setting. She tensed immediately, visibly fighting the rush of sensation as the vibrator hit her clit directly.
Stepping back, I pulled out the whip I had coiled into the bag, and began working over her breasts and stomach slowly, with little flips of the wrist. She jumped and writhed with the kiss of each flick, struggling, almost dancing on the tips of her toes, wrestling her arms against the shackles on her wrists. Her muffled moans of pleasure and pain worked their way through her gag and hood, and I continued, noting each muffled shout as she came over and over again.
I worked her over until her entire body was shaking with the exertion of repeated orgasm and the endorphin rush caused by the whip before relenting and walking to her, talking in soothing tones.
"Oh, you're such a pretty girl when your skin is kissed by my marks - you know how beautiful your body is this way, don't you?"
I gently removed the gag, then the hood, kissing her face as her eyes adjusted to the light.
"You like this, don't you, slut?" I whispered into her ear as I unhooked the shackle holding her left hand to the pipe.
She only nodded, remembering my command not to speak.
"I think I will reward you now. Would you like that?" Her eyes were like sparkling pools of dark night as she nodded, tears glistening at their edges.
I turned her around, locking her shackle above the cuffs holding her left hand, the pipe hitting her just so, so that she bent forward at exactly the right height for me to enter her. The butterfly vibe was still purring away, and as I turned her, it came in contact with the pipe, causing the whole thing to hum in sympathy - she jumped delightfully at that, yet another orgasm wracking her frame.
I unzipped my pants and my hard cock almost jumped from within - I was very ready for this, her chained so beautifully, and so very wet and ready for my throbbing manhood.
She came again as I slid my cock into her wet cunt. She cried out then, she couldn't help herself, but I didn't care, as I was caught up in the moment as well.
I fucked her then, ramming hard, leaning into her, hands working - kneading her breasts, pinching her nipples in the way I knew drove her mad. The world around us seemed to disappear as we rocked together, her orgasms washing through her with every third or fourth thrust as I fucked her. We both came with a shuddering gasp together, and I reached for the remote and turned off the vibe, wrapping my arms around her.
I unchained her, gently helping her to relax back into my arms, eventually moving over the the steps so that she could sit on her ruined clothing and I could wrap her in my arms.
"Very good, my dear. Good girl," I whispered into her hair as she began to return to the here and now.
"Oh, Sir," she replied, still a bit breathless. "Thank you. Thank you."
We sat for a few moments, just coming back to the here and now. I handed her a new dress, which I had made sure was also in my bag, she dressed, I cleaned up the shackles and other toys and zipped up the toy bag.
I grabbed her hand and pulled her to me, kissing her firmly.
"Let's go fuck some more, huh baby?"
"Oh, yes Sir. Yes, indeed."
We left the tangled pile of ruined clothing there, a silent testimony of our outdoor scene.
Next, I stashed my kit - it was obvious no one had been here for years on end - although the walls and bed of the drainage were stained, you couldn't smell the tanning chemicals any more - this place had been abandoned without even boarding up the windows. Not even the large homeless population seen lurking throughout this industrial wasteland of shattered towers and silent smokestacks frequented this place.
Next, the come-on.
"Hey baby, what are you doing Saturday morning?" I asked on the phone, knowing that she would be willing to do anything I told her to do.
"Sir, you know my time is yours." Such a good girl. So unwittingly willing to step into my trap. Our discussion of this particular scene had been intermittent. I knew she wanted it, she knew I wanted it. But the details never made themselves apparent in our post debauchery pillow talk.
Our conversation wrapped itself up as it usually does, she telling me how deeply she desired my attentions, me telling her "Soon, my good girl. Soon."
Saturday morning, and our usual haunt - a quaint little Victorian with gingerbread trim, now a coffee shop and book store favored by hunched over introspects, noses deeply buried in volumes they were too "impoverished" to purchase, yet a $4.00 espresso sat cooling on the table before them.
I would never understand people's slavery to image, yet my fascination with the human subject brought me back to this place over and over, and it was, after all, where I met this little waif of a girl, midnight hair and raven black eyes, curled in an overstuffed chair with a ponderous volume of De Sade's works perched in her lap.
De Sade aside, she and I had hit it off, and the subject of BDSM easily rolled into our conversation. That conversation ended, after three hours, with a trip to my house and her first introduction to the world she read of so voraciously. Her naked body gleaming with sweat, strapped to a beam and shaking with an overload of sensation and orgasm. We'd been lovers, partners and Dom/sub ever since.
We were quiet over our coffees - not much beyond a quick bus upon greeting and knowing looks. I was comfortable with that - she knew I had something special planned, and that I wouldn't reveal my plans to her. She was comfortable with that, but I could see her excitement and anticipation plainly. Purposely, I took my time. Anticipation is a powerful aphrodisiac.
As we walked toward my car, I slipped a hand into my pocket and pulled out her collar. "Put this on and keep silent."
She immediately complied, as I knew she would.
We got into the vehicle, and suddenly, forcefully, I grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head into my lap. Her hands automatically few up to her head, as I knew they would, giving me the opportunity to snap a handcuff roughly over one wrist. With a slight twist, her arm was completely under my control, and I quickly captured her other wrist, securing them one-handed before letting go of her hair.
She opened her mouth to protest and I slapped her - not hard, but firmly enough that she understood my point. I locked the cuffs and then put a black cloth hood over her head.
"Do not speak," I instructed her. "If you speak, I will gag you. Nod if you understand."
I could see her struggling heroically to control herself - she was genuinely scared, which is what I wanted, but she also knew I would not harm her. She nodded, her shoulders trembling a little as she began to shake.
"Good. You will not be harmed as long as you obey," I said as I backed out of my parking space.
I was not worried about her figuring out where we were going during the drive. My carefully chosen spot was too far from our normal haunts for her to realize where we were going.
I pulled in behind the abandoned tannery, smiling to myself as I got out of the car. A quick glance had shown that I was correct in my assumption that this was the perfect spot - my toy bag was exactly where I had left it a few days before. No one frequented this spot.
I reached under her hood to grasp her long hair, which she had worn in a pony-tail, and dragged her from her seat roughly. She gasped at how rough I was with her, and I slapped her with my other hand.
"No talking. I will have to gag you if you make another sound."
I shoved her toward the steps leading down into the canal - a service access left from the days when someone actually worked in this godforsaken wasteland. Although I was very rough, I supported her just enough to get her down the stairs without an actual injury. The last thing I wanted was to end this scene with a trip to the emergency room to treat a twisted ankle.
I shoved her over the waist-high pipe at the bottom of the steps - her stomach against the rusted steel and the tips of her toes barely holding her to the ground. It was the perfect height to keep her off her balance.
I dragged my bag from it's hiding space with one foot, maintaining contact with her, keeping her head pushed down over the pipe as I unzipped the bag and removed two sets of steel shackles.
Hooking my fingers into the waist of her tight jeans, I yanked her back upright.
"I see the way you dress, you little cunt," I whispered harshly in her ear. "Girls like you turn my stomach. Dressing like street whores, just to try and entice men like me to try to fuck you. You do that on purpose, don't you?
"Don't speak!!!" I yelled into her ear as she began to stammer a reply. "I warned you!"
I grabbed her hair through the hood, yanking down and back, forcing her head back and her mouth open. I pulled the ball gag from my bag and crammed the ball into her mouth, the hood still over it as well, knowing that the combination of cloth over the ball gag would make the gagging even more unpleasant. I buckled the gag behind her head, effectively strapping the hood into place, and then picked up a steel shackle again.
Deftly, I maneuvered her toward me, spinning her to face me and snapping a shackle over one wrist. Then, I unlocked the cuff on that wrist and yanked the shackle upward toward the pipe that ran parallel to the waist-high one she'd just been bent over, but a little behind it. There was a "t" joint there, and one on the other side, just a little more than arm's width apart from each other - perfectly placed. I snapped the shackle shut over the joint, stretching her right arm and forcing her to bend back toward the anchor point.
I grabbed the cuffs, still dangling from her left wrist, and yanked her arm toward the other anchoring "t" joint, effectively pinning her, bent backwards, small of her back against the waist-high pipe, toes barely on the ground.
I stepped back for a moment, admiring her form as she stood there, arms spread wide, breasts forced upward as her body bent so awkwardly.
"Now, slut, you will find out what it is that so pisses me off about your whorish ways," I whispered, leaning close in to her and smelling her fear, as well as her arousal.
I pulled a very sharp knife from my bag, and began by slipping the tip under her leather belt. Slowly, knowing how much she loved this particular belt, as I had purchased it for her, I slit the leather, the sharp blade of the knife cutting smoothly through it. I could feel her wince as the last of the hide separated with a little "pop". I yanked the belt from her waist-band, ripping a few belt-loops from her jeans in the process. Stepping back, I quickly doubled the belt and brought it down across her breasts, a satisfying "snap!" ringing through the air.
"Slut!" I harangued her, dropping the belt as I heard her sob through her gag.
Quickly, I slid the knife tip-down into the waistband of her tight jeans, the back of the blade against bare skin. She never wore panties when she came to meet me - she had learned that lesson the first time we met.
I sliced the knife downward, pulling the denim from her with my other hand, running the tip down the inside of her thigh, cutting downward and freeing her leg of the jean's form-fitting embrace. The other leg followed just as swiftly, and she stood, bare-assed, bent backwards, arms spread and chained.
"That is better," I said, brushing the top of her mound with the back of my hand. She reacted instantly to that touch, breath sucked in through her nose, her body trembling and breath coming even quicker.
"You filthy, slutty little cunt. Parading around in your tight-ass jeans, your push-up bra and your low-cut little tramp shirt," I spat, cutting her shirt from bottom to collar.
"I'll show you what happens to slutty whores like you!"
Now down to bra, hood and ankle-high black boots, her body shivered. I bent down and quickly shackled her ankles together over the boots. I would let her keep her sexy little boots.
"Let's see if your hooker tits look good without that push-up bra, tramp!" I hissed, cutting the front open and leaving the bra hanging form her magnificent breasts, just beginning to redden from the blow I had delivered.
"Ah! You do have nice tits, don't you, you little cunt?" I asked her, relishing the tremors coursing through her body in response to my rough voice.
I picked up the belt again, stepped back and began to systematically beat her breasts with it, painting stripes of red pain across each in turn. She loved it when I tortured her breasts like this, and I could see her visibly relax into the pain, as best she could, secured as she was.
Her breasts red, I dropped the belt and pulled a pair of clothes pins from my bag.
"Sluts like you like pain, don't you?" I snapped, placing each clothes pin on a nipple.
I then reach down and pulled out her butterfly vibrator, snapping the little straps in place and pushing it down so that it covered her clit.
"You're going to come for me, whore. You're going to come and come while I beat you. You are going to show me what a trashy, nasty tramp you really are," I spat, turning the remote attached to the vibe to it's highest setting. She tensed immediately, visibly fighting the rush of sensation as the vibrator hit her clit directly.
Stepping back, I pulled out the whip I had coiled into the bag, and began working over her breasts and stomach slowly, with little flips of the wrist. She jumped and writhed with the kiss of each flick, struggling, almost dancing on the tips of her toes, wrestling her arms against the shackles on her wrists. Her muffled moans of pleasure and pain worked their way through her gag and hood, and I continued, noting each muffled shout as she came over and over again.
I worked her over until her entire body was shaking with the exertion of repeated orgasm and the endorphin rush caused by the whip before relenting and walking to her, talking in soothing tones.
"Oh, you're such a pretty girl when your skin is kissed by my marks - you know how beautiful your body is this way, don't you?"
I gently removed the gag, then the hood, kissing her face as her eyes adjusted to the light.
"You like this, don't you, slut?" I whispered into her ear as I unhooked the shackle holding her left hand to the pipe.
She only nodded, remembering my command not to speak.
"I think I will reward you now. Would you like that?" Her eyes were like sparkling pools of dark night as she nodded, tears glistening at their edges.
I turned her around, locking her shackle above the cuffs holding her left hand, the pipe hitting her just so, so that she bent forward at exactly the right height for me to enter her. The butterfly vibe was still purring away, and as I turned her, it came in contact with the pipe, causing the whole thing to hum in sympathy - she jumped delightfully at that, yet another orgasm wracking her frame.
I unzipped my pants and my hard cock almost jumped from within - I was very ready for this, her chained so beautifully, and so very wet and ready for my throbbing manhood.
She came again as I slid my cock into her wet cunt. She cried out then, she couldn't help herself, but I didn't care, as I was caught up in the moment as well.
I fucked her then, ramming hard, leaning into her, hands working - kneading her breasts, pinching her nipples in the way I knew drove her mad. The world around us seemed to disappear as we rocked together, her orgasms washing through her with every third or fourth thrust as I fucked her. We both came with a shuddering gasp together, and I reached for the remote and turned off the vibe, wrapping my arms around her.
I unchained her, gently helping her to relax back into my arms, eventually moving over the the steps so that she could sit on her ruined clothing and I could wrap her in my arms.
"Very good, my dear. Good girl," I whispered into her hair as she began to return to the here and now.
"Oh, Sir," she replied, still a bit breathless. "Thank you. Thank you."
We sat for a few moments, just coming back to the here and now. I handed her a new dress, which I had made sure was also in my bag, she dressed, I cleaned up the shackles and other toys and zipped up the toy bag.
I grabbed her hand and pulled her to me, kissing her firmly.
"Let's go fuck some more, huh baby?"
"Oh, yes Sir. Yes, indeed."
We left the tangled pile of ruined clothing there, a silent testimony of our outdoor scene.
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