A Bad Trip free porn video

This is a FigCaption - special HTML5 tag for Image (like short description, you can remove it)

A Bad Trip (Experience) In Self-Bondage

A Bad Trip (Experience) In Self-Bondage

by Hiliary Maria dubh nic Seamus

I was 27 years old when this happened. I was out of the service and was enjoying several months of freedom (back from 'Nam -- after 4 years in the Sea Cadets, 4 years NROTC and 8 years duty in 'Nam) I was in New York City, staying with Phyllis - I knew her from college (she was 3 years ahead of me and also 3 years older - she was 30 at the time). We shared the same ideas and tastes (both of us were into B&D and mild SM, she not only tolerated my "dressing", she improved me). I never would be a Playboy Flower Child Model, but sitting on an ottoman in her living room, looking in the mirror by the door, I saw looking-back at me a perfectly acceptable (and as most who knew me put it - attractive young woman). At this time I still had the slender build of my teens - 6-foot tall and 153#, 38-29-38 and natural hair that reached halfway between my shoulders and my ass. Thanks to "Phil's" help, my make-up was perfect. The micro-dress (white eyelet lace fabric) fitted perfectly.

Phyllis was ready to leave for work - it was 0730 AM and she started at 0830. She was telling me what to prepare for my dinner - she would be at her parents' home until midnight and I shouldn't wait for her, but I should be ready. "But," she added, "Knowing you, you will be binding yourself today. Be warned - If you can't get out and I find you so, you'll remain bound until I decide to release you. Come here, give me a kiss." Our kiss was very much more than friendly or sisterly. Until last night we regularly fucked like a pair of mink. Now her fertile period was starting, and since she was allergic to the pills then available, and she was a nurse, it was decided that a Follett Catheter would be inserted into my urethra and bladder to help control me while she was unable to have sex (Phil was jealous - no one but no one but she would enjoy me while I stayed with her). Since I had mentioned to her that I might do some shopping and clubbing later in the day, she insisted that I be locked into my chastity belt before I finished dressing (I had no male clothes - Phil and I lived like two sisters -- an older sister [Phil] and the younger sister [myself]). The chastity belt was because she planned to be the one to "pop" my cherry on my birthday (I shivered when she shown me the strap-on-dildo harness with the pony-sized dildo she planned to use on me for the event).

My dressing, always a project, began at 0500AM. After bathing and shaving (Phil insists that I always be free of bodily hair - What I can't remove myself she does - remember she is a nurse and used to prepping patients for rectal surgery). This done, on this day she inserted and inflated the catheter, and clipped shut the end so that I wouldn't "dribble"(the catheter went through a hole in my panties and one in the crotch-strap of my chastity belt). After a complete GI colonic, a retention plug in my rectum took care of that need (she has used this before on me - no fun using it, but it did the job). After my gaff, a sanitary pad (she decided that I should also start my "period") and panties, then the chastity belt went on (no cumbersome locks, this was retained by flat and undetectable locks -- securing two waist straps, one buckling over the locking one). Next I came to putting on my bra and breast forms. Then a chemise that barely reached my hips. Strapping my wrists together in front of my body (and my ankles as well) she used a hook in the ceiling (originally installed to support a planter - the plant died - and now I hung from it on occasion) to suspend me so that I was on my tiptoes. Around my waist went the corset and the busk in front was hooked shut. Going behind me she grasped the laces and began to tighten the laces. Since I wore a corset daily, this went fast. In no-time I was laced down to a 25-inch waist. Letting me down, on went my pantyhose and heels (these were Dorsey Pumps with 4-inch heels and ankle straps). Next came my mini-slip -- bodice and 2-inch band of lace, it barely reached my crotch. Over this my mini-dress, barely mid-thigh, short sleeves, princess neckline -- of white eyelet cotton/linen blend. Once zipped in, my hair and makeup were taken care of. This done, Phil told me to sit on the ottoman in the living room and behave myself.

It is now about 0730 AM. Well, after finishing dressing me, Phil left me to my devices. Having planned to do just what she had warned me about, I decided to get things ready for after dinner. Going into my bedroom, I opened my and pulled my "toy chest" out of the closet. Opening the trunk, I took out of it a number of items; some, like a sponge soaking in a jar of a strong brine solution (there was a 1/4-inch layer of undissolved salt on the bottom of the jar) were prepared much earlier. Others were gloves - "little white wrist-length gloves", over the wrist (to mid-forearm straight dress "coat gloves", over-the-elbow "formal gloves" with their 3-button opening on the wrist, and my secret treasure -- a pair of leather "5-button wrist to-the-shoulder opera-length gloves" with the straps above the elbow (inside the glove) and below the armpit (above the bicep - top of glove folds over to hide the strap) which would prevent the glove from fall-in. Also I took out of the trunk some large bundles of 3/16-inch sash cord, a pair of Hyatt-styled Leg Irons where the hobble was reduced to 1-link, a special homemade harness, a leather collar, a discipline helmet with only a set of breathing holes, 2 lengths of sheeting strips, and a bunch of padlocks. Putting the trunk back into the closet, I took the items I had removed into the living room and put them on the cushions on the floor where the couch normally was (this couch was suspended from the ceiling and rings in the floor accepted snaps on the ends of chains from the couch so that tit wouldn't sway. Since we didn't use the couch very often, it was pulled-up to the ceiling (14-foot ceilings - this was an old building) and the rings in the floor were perfect for my purposes. Making sure the locks were all open, and putting one length of sheeting strip into a pan of water to soak, I made some phone calls.

It is now about 0830 AM. No luck. Dave, who I counted-on to squire me around was dissed from our last date when I refused to "put-out" for him (He didn't, and to this day doesn't know that I am not a girl), and refused. Everyone else was at work or going to work. Nothing to watch on TV and I didn't want to go shopping alone, much less clubbing; and a single woman in an adult bookstore was fair prey -- much less the risks involved if the police conducted one of their raids. I was caught in one once, and Phyllis told me that the next time I would have to have my day in court -- the cops didn't believe that I wasn't hooking -- lucky Phyllis's dad (an attorney - and a good friend of the Mayor and Governor) got there and sprung me before they had me strip and a matron do a cavity search me. With nothing else to do, I decided to test my idea and see if I could escape from the harness I had made.

As usual, for me to think of such an idea was to put it into action - only my habit of not thinking ahead was to cost me dearly. Taking the brine jar to the kitchen, I took the sponge out, squeezed most of the brine out of the sponge and packed it into my mouth. Taking the sheeting strip (2-inches by 6-feet) out of the pan of water, I squeezed it until it was just damp. Centering it between my teeth, I tightly wrapped it around my head, under my hair and between my teeth and knotted it behind my head.

Taking the dry strip (3-inches by 12-feet) I did the same. One or two attempts proved that I couldn't be heard - I could barely hear myself make a squeak through the gag. Going-back into the living room, I sat down on the cushions and started doing a tie on myself. First, I placed the ankle-cuffs on my ankles, securely locking them. Then I took a bundle of sash cord, doubled it and thoroughly bound and cinched the insteps of my feet. Then I used the remainder of the bundle to bind and cinch my ankles.

Then came my knees - the cords tightly secured above the calves and above the knees - both sets of loops were individually cinched and then jointly cinched and knotted. Then I did 1-inch bands of cinched binding at mid-thigh (just above the hem of my dress) and a final 1-inch binding at my crotch (tops of my thighs -- 1-inch below my crotch). I had two bundles of sash cord left. Slipping my dress up to my breasts and using pins to hold it there, I doubled the remaining cord and looped both around my toes and crisscrossed my feet and legs with it until I couldn't flex my feet or legs. I tied the ends off at my chastity belt.

Ignoring the fiery bite of the tight cord (Phyllis and I were going to go out tomorrow, it was Sunday - it would be warm and I knew I would be wearing heavy hose to cover the rope burns) I used a lock to secure one end of the chain to my ankle cuffs and in a redundant mood also locking the cuffs together.

Now I picked-up the harness (Phyllis hasn't seen this item). Pulling it over my head, I then unpinned my dress, allowing the skirt to fall where it wanted (I AM NO LADY WHEN I PLAY BONDAGE GAMES) and secured the harness. First I snugly laced shut a 3-inch collar of thin deerskin. Hanging from the back of this was a 4-inch wide strap. In the front hung a 1-inch wide strap running from collar to my waist.. Riveted to the straps were 4 straps, each one was 2-inches wide -- one that would go around my torso above my breasts, one below my breasts, one just below my ribs and one around my waist. I quickly buckled the straps, slipping a small "poodle" lock through the tongue in each buckle. This harness fitted tight - in fact, the waist was so snug that I knew that my waist had been reduced to 24-inches. The locks secured, I looked in the mirror.

With the black straps of the harness contrasting to my white dress, pantyhose, heels, etc., the effect was something else. My packed mouth and the distressed look in my face caused by the extremely tight gag also helped. Except for my free hands I looked like the classical damsel in distress.

Now I picked-up the earplugs, fat foam cylinders, compressed them and put them into my ear canals. Over them went plugs of swimmers ear wax then a fat pad of cotton wool. It worked. I couldn't hear the radio that was quietly playing. Satisfied, I put on my gloves. First went on the "little white" gloves of wrist length. Next, I smoothed on the mid-forearm gloves over the wrist length gloves. Next came the "over-the-elbow" formal gloves - I had some slight trouble with the wrist buttons, but a button hook make short work of this problem. Taking the discipline helmet, I adjusted the laces so that it was open as much as possible. Taking a final look in the mirror, admiring the damsel in distress that I saw looking back at me, I slid the helmet over my head, closing my eyes as I did so and felt the eye pads slip into place over my eyes. After insuring that the nose holes were properly placed (1-inch lengths of 1/4-inch tubing slid up into my nostrils as the helmet slid into place), I laced-up the helmet. Once done, I knotted the laces and cut-off the excess.

Then I tossed the knife away to make freeing myself harder. Once done, the helmet fitted like a second skin, except for my mouth. The pressures the tightly laced helmet placed on the gag and my jaw were something else. Feeling around, I located the zipper and zipped-shut the helmet over the laces and buckled-shut the attached collar. Now feeling around on the cushions, I located the other collar. This was a rigid collar of stiff leather, double thickness and 5-inches high on the sides and back with a cut-out for the chin, and it had double locking straps 1-inch wide Riveted to it. Sliding the loops on the collar through the slots in the straps I closed the collar around my neck, covering the collar, zipper and lacing of the helmet. I located by feel the lock I wanted, not a "poodle" lock, but an honest bike padlock with a 6-inch long hasp. I slid the hasp of the lock through the loops but didn't lock it. Then I secured the straps on the helmet across my eyes and gag, further increasing the pressure on them, and locked them with "poodle" locks. Until I used the keys to release myself from the helmet, it was on to stay. At this time I also secured the end of the other length of chain to my collar between the two sets of straps on the collar, passing the bike lock through the end link, and then secured the lock.

Feeling around, I located the opera gloves. They slid easily onto my arms (the silk lining saw to that). It was a problem with the 5 buttons on each wrist, and even the button hook was little help since I couldn't see what I was doing, but eventually I secured the buttons and buckled snugly the straps on each glove above the elbow (inside the glove) and above the bicep (outside of the glove, but the top 3-inches folds-down covering the strap). My main problem was my dress sleeves. They were the short, mid-bicep puff sleeves that tightly buttoned at the base of the puff, but finally I managed to undo the buttons enough to slip the top of the gloves under each sleeve and then rebut toned each sleeve.

By now, my common sense was screaming to me "STOP NOW!!! GET YOURSELF OUT OF THIS BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE!!!" I was too stubborn. I started, I'll finish it. Lying on my side, I located the free end of the chain on my collar. I slid it through the ring at the head-end of the cushions, and then wiggled up toward the ring, tightening the chain until I was stretched as tight as was possible. I felt-around for the remaining padlock, found it and slid it through the link of chain at the ring and the ring and locked-it. Reaching behind my back, I located the purpose of this harness. (Here I have to digress. Located on the back strap, just below my shoulder blades is a loop of leather parallel to the strap. Through this I wound a series of 12-inch wide loops of heavy -3/16-inch thick - wall thickness - latex tubing -- a total of eight loops which I knotted the ends tightly together. Just at my waist, below the bottom of the strap, on the waist strap, I had riveted a pair of handcuffs which I had modified. I had cut the chain that connected the cuffs together and welded the cuffs to the ends of a 5-inch long by 1/2-inch thick steel rod that had been passed through three steel eyes (lock hasps riveted to the belt) which made it irremovable. With an effort, I managed to flex and bend both arms enough to get my hands to the wrists into the rubber hose loops. Working one arm at a time, I moved them by inches at a time down in-to the loops, keeping my arms tensed apart to stretch and spread the loops. Eventually I reached the bulge of my forearms, the point of no return. Here, I took a breather. I cupped my hands together and pressing out with my arms at the same time dipped one shoulder - it worked - the bands of tubing slid-over the elbow on that side. Doing the same with the other arm, I found I had reached my goal - both elbows were tightly pressed together, and I began to have doubts of freeing myself - even if my wrists were not secured, there was no way I would be able to pull my arms out of the embrace of the loops of rubber hosing. Imagining how I must look, I chuckled to myself at the sight I would present to an onlooker - Except for my wrists, I am totally and inescapably bound, with a discipline helmet tightly secured over my head. Due to the struggles with my elbow bindings, my skirt had ridden-up around my waist. Deciding to continue as the "damsel-in-distress" I didn't adjust it to cover me. I decided to finish myself off. I located the cuffs, managed to get my wrists into each and rolled-onto my back. With a "click" they were shut - too tight as it became quickly obvious as I felt the cuffs bite through 4 pairs of gloves. I was able to ignore the bite of the cord on my legs, but not that of the cuffs on my wrists, and since I had to flex my elbows - the cuffs were too high to allow my arms to remain straight, the loops of rubber hose around my elbows hurt very much. "Still," as I thought to myself, "give it a chance. Thank goodness for the cushions, otherwise..."

"THE CUSHIONS!!" I shrieked to myself all of a sudden. Before starting I was supposed to move the cushions so I would have room to move around. No wonder it was hard to turn - no slack in the chains because of the cushions I was laying on. The attempts I made to try to move the cushions were futile. The dense foam pads slid-into burlap covers that were laced through rings on the sides of the covers to rings on the sheet of plywood that formed the seat of the sofa. Unable to move them, my body was bent into an arc from just above my knees to the tops of my shoulders. In spite of that, the discovery I next made was the ultimate. Feeling around to free myself - now I was getting scared - I couldn't find the keys. I tried to think of where they should be - in spite of the cushions I should be able to reach them, after all, they were on the cushion next to me... or were they? I thought back, then I panicked -- I HAD LEFT THE KEYS ON THE SINK IN THE KITCHEN!!

I struggled and fought my bonds until I was soaked to the skin. By now, the cords, tubes and cuffs were beyond hurting. I was being flayed alive, the chastity belt also added to the fun. It was rubbing saddle sores. In fact, I was beginning to lose feeling in my arms and legs - the restricted circulation was making everything feel fuzzy. I also discovered why a discipline helmet was so named - as I become heated from struggling, the sweat gathered inside the helmet, and combined with the tight fit of the leather across my face, made the helmet very uncomfortable.

In addition, the gag and helmet combination was a mistake. As the wet strip of cloth dried, it shrunk, and was beginning to push the sponge further into my mouth. Then I remembered the headlines for the past several weeks - several girls and young women had been found dead in their apartments -- bound and strangled -- the thoughts of someone breaking-in and finding me like this arose.

"What if they decided to kill me because the chastity belt and helmet made it impossible for me to service them with a fuck or a blow job? What if they managed to remove the chastity belt and discovered that I am not a girl, but a man? On second thought, no problem there - after all, THIS IS NEW YORK!!! GREENWICH VILLAGE, CHRISTOPHER STREET, MARBLE ARCH PARK, etc. No, a crossdressed male would still be a common fuck (as could and still can be found by the truck terminals). But still, the chastity belt had a mesh of chain mail between the layers of the waist band and the crotch strap - "no key, no pee" as Phyllis put it when we bought it. And few men, no matter how horny they were, would risk a forced blow job. I had plenty to worry about. Also, what if the landlord's handyman came to do some work? 'He does have a key, but he comes by appointment - still, there's emergencies to worry about' I thought to myself. A fire - the Fire Department, the Police, the Press!!! It was too-much. I resumed my struggles - suddenly I felt myself stifling - I couldn't breathe - there was a buzzing sensation and a hammering in my head. Then Nothing.

I'm back. All still is dark. The pain was gone - only numbness in my limbs. The brine gag was the most painful thing I have ever experienced. No wonder the Ancient Romans would pack a rebellious slave's mouth with salt and then gag them and after a day let them see water. If I were that slave, I would rush to the cross for a drink of water. I knew I was in trouble. The swelling of my arms and legs would cause the loss of feeling. The sponge packed in my mouth was partially in my throat making it hard to breathe - not bad enough to gag me, but I knew that any more struggling might cause it to silk back further - but as the cutting sensation from the drying cloth strip told me, I might not have to struggle - for the cloth was still shrinking - pushing against the sponge. Also, the helmet wasn't helping. Even if I hadn't plugged my ears, the leather over my ears would still hinder my hearing. Also, the leather of the helmet was trapping my sweat against my skin, making me feel hotter and sweatier than I really was. The tubes in my nose were next to the worst - the holes in them are only 3/16-inch in diameter, OK for long, gentle breathing. Disaster for panicked, struggling breathing. The worse were my collars. Not enough to strangle, but close -- I fought to force myself to stay calm, relax, lower my blood pressure. It was a cycle - I relaxed, then I panicked. Every time I came down, I was worse off than before. How long this went on, I couldn't tell. I almost panicked when I feel something touch my thigh (by now my dress had slid-up so high that under my back my fingertips could feel the hem of the skirt. Breezes from the open window told me that the top of my dress was in even worse dishabille). I stop struggling when the fingers tapped a 1-2-3 1-2-3 tempo on my leg - Phil's signal to me when I am unable to hear, telling me that she is taking charge. I relaxed.

OK - Phil was home. She kept her word. I had bound myself on Saturday, and it was now One AM Tuesday Morning - she kept me bound for two more days. Only now did I really begin to pay. Without removing the helmet, she removed my harness, dress and chemise. She put the layered gloves to good use - she bound my wrists together in front of me and then suspended me from the rings holding the sofa against the ceiling, with my legs pulled apart and spread wide. She than took a belt and spent, it seems, hours using it on every inch of my back, sides, inner legs and front.

After the flogging (that's what it was) I was cut-down. The collar and helmet were removed and I was allowed to free myself as well as I could. Phyllis than told me to bathe and then stand by the foot posts of our bed. That night, and for the next month I spent my nights with my wrists bound behind my back and the bed post, my body and ankles bound to the post, suspended with my feet off the floor, supported only by my bonds, gagged and blindfolded.

Eventually the rope burns faded - but the memories and trauma didn't.

A Bad Trip (Experience) In Self-Bondage

by Hiliary Maria dubh nic Seamus

I was 27 years old when this happened. I was out of the service and was enjoying several months of freedom (back from 'Nam -- after 4 years in the Sea Cadets, 4 years NROTC and 8 years duty in 'Nam) I was in New York City, staying with Phyllis - I knew her from college (she was 3 years ahead of me and also 3 years older - she was 30 at the time). We shared the same ideas and tastes (both of us were into B&D and mild SM, she not only tolerated my "dressing", she improved me). I never would be a Playboy Flower Child Model, but sitting on an ottoman in her living room, looking in the mirror by the door, I saw looking-back at me a perfectly acceptable (and as most who knew me put it - attractive young woman). At this time I still had the slender build of my teens - 6-foot tall and 153#, 38-29-38 and natural hair that reached halfway between my shoulders and my ass. Thanks to "Phil's" help, my make-up was perfect. The micro-dress (white eyelet lace fabric) fitted perfectly.

Phyllis was ready to leave for work - it was 0730 AM and she started at 0830. She was telling me what to prepare for my dinner - she would be at her parents' home until midnight and I shouldn't wait for her, but I should be ready. "But," she added, "Knowing you, you will be binding yourself today. Be warned - If you can't get out and I find you so, you'll remain bound until I decide to release you. Come here, give me a kiss." Our kiss was very much more than friendly or sisterly. Until last night we regularly fucked like a pair of mink. Now her fertile period was starting, and since she was allergic to the pills then available, and she was a nurse, it was decided that a Follett Catheter would be inserted into my urethra and bladder to help control me while she was unable to have sex (Phil was jealous - no one but no one but she would enjoy me while I stayed with her). Since I had mentioned to her that I might do some shopping and clubbing later in the day, she insisted that I be locked into my chastity belt before I finished dressing (I had no male clothes - Phil and I lived like two sisters -- an older sister [Phil] and the younger sister [myself]). The chastity belt was because she planned to be the one to "pop" my cherry on my birthday (I shivered when she shown me the strap-on-dildo harness with the pony-sized dildo she planned to use on me for the event).

My dressing, always a project, began at 0500AM. After bathing and shaving (Phil insists that I always be free of bodily hair - What I can't remove myself she does - remember she is a nurse and used to prepping patients for rectal surgery). This done, on this day she inserted and inflated the catheter, and clipped shut the end so that I wouldn't "dribble"(the catheter went through a hole in my panties and one in the crotch-strap of my chastity belt). After a complete GI colonic, a retention plug in my rectum took care of that need (she has used this before on me - no fun using it, but it did the job). After my gaff, a sanitary pad (she decided that I should also start my "period") and panties, then the chastity belt went on (no cumbersome locks, this was retained by flat and undetectable locks -- securing two waist straps, one buckling over the locking one). Next I came to putting on my bra and breast forms. Then a chemise that barely reached my hips. Strapping my wrists together in front of my body (and my ankles as well) she used a hook in the ceiling (originally installed to support a planter - the plant died - and now I hung from it on occasion) to suspend me so that I was on my tiptoes. Around my waist went the corset and the busk in front was hooked shut. Going behind me she grasped the laces and began to tighten the laces. Since I wore a corset daily, this went fast. In no-time I was laced down to a 25-inch waist. Letting me down, on went my pantyhose and heels (these were Dorsey Pumps with 4-inch heels and ankle straps). Next came my mini-slip -- bodice and 2-inch band of lace, it barely reached my crotch. Over this my mini-dress, barely mid-thigh, short sleeves, princess neckline -- of white eyelet cotton/linen blend. Once zipped in, my hair and makeup were taken care of. This done, Phil told me to sit on the ottoman in the living room and behave myself.

It is now about 0730 AM. Well, after finishing dressing me, Phil left me to my devices. Having planned to do just what she had warned me about, I decided to get things ready for after dinner. Going into my bedroom, I opened my and pulled my "toy chest" out of the closet. Opening the trunk, I took out of it a number of items; some, like a sponge soaking in a jar of a strong brine solution (there was a 1/4-inch layer of undissolved salt on the bottom of the jar) were prepared much earlier. Others were gloves - "little white wrist-length gloves", over the wrist (to mid-forearm straight dress "coat gloves", over-the-elbow "formal gloves" with their 3-button opening on the wrist, and my secret treasure -- a pair of leather "5-button wrist to-the-shoulder opera-length gloves" with the straps above the elbow (inside the glove) and below the armpit (above the bicep - top of glove folds over to hide the strap) which would prevent the glove from fall-in. Also I took out of the trunk some large bundles of 3/16-inch sash cord, a pair of Hyatt-styled Leg Irons where the hobble was reduced to 1-link, a special homemade harness, a leather collar, a discipline helmet with only a set of breathing holes, 2 lengths of sheeting strips, and a bunch of padlocks. Putting the trunk back into the closet, I took the items I had removed into the living room and put them on the cushions on the floor where the couch normally was (this couch was suspended from the ceiling and rings in the floor accepted snaps on the ends of chains from the couch so that tit wouldn't sway. Since we didn't use the couch very often, it was pulled-up to the ceiling (14-foot ceilings - this was an old building) and the rings in the floor were perfect for my purposes. Making sure the locks were all open, and putting one length of sheeting strip into a pan of water to soak, I made some phone calls.

It is now about 0830 AM. No luck. Dave, who I counted-on to squire me around was dissed from our last date when I refused to "put-out" for him (He didn't, and to this day doesn't know that I am not a girl), and refused. Everyone else was at work or going to work. Nothing to watch on TV and I didn't want to go shopping alone, much less clubbing; and a single woman in an adult bookstore was fair prey -- much less the risks involved if the police conducted one of their raids. I was caught in one once, and Phyllis told me that the next time I would have to have my day in court -- the cops didn't believe that I wasn't hooking -- lucky Phyllis's dad (an attorney - and a good friend of the Mayor and Governor) got there and sprung me before they had me strip and a matron do a cavity search me. With nothing else to do, I decided to test my idea and see if I could escape from the harness I had made.

As usual, for me to think of such an idea was to put it into action - only my habit of not thinking ahead was to cost me dearly. Taking the brine jar to the kitchen, I took the sponge out, squeezed most of the brine out of the sponge and packed it into my mouth. Taking the sheeting strip (2-inches by 6-feet) out of the pan of water, I squeezed it until it was just damp. Centering it between my teeth, I tightly wrapped it around my head, under my hair and between my teeth and knotted it behind my head.

Taking the dry strip (3-inches by 12-feet) I did the same. One or two attempts proved that I couldn't be heard - I could barely hear myself make a squeak through the gag. Going-back into the living room, I sat down on the cushions and started doing a tie on myself. First, I placed the ankle-cuffs on my ankles, securely locking them. Then I took a bundle of sash cord, doubled it and thoroughly bound and cinched the insteps of my feet. Then I used the remainder of the bundle to bind and cinch my ankles.

Then came my knees - the cords tightly secured above the calves and above the knees - both sets of loops were individually cinched and then jointly cinched and knotted. Then I did 1-inch bands of cinched binding at mid-thigh (just above the hem of my dress) and a final 1-inch binding at my crotch (tops of my thighs -- 1-inch below my crotch). I had two bundles of sash cord left. Slipping my dress up to my breasts and using pins to hold it there, I doubled the remaining cord and looped both around my toes and crisscrossed my feet and legs with it until I couldn't flex my feet or legs. I tied the ends off at my chastity belt.

Ignoring the fiery bite of the tight cord (Phyllis and I were going to go out tomorrow, it was Sunday - it would be warm and I knew I would be wearing heavy hose to cover the rope burns) I used a lock to secure one end of the chain to my ankle cuffs and in a redundant mood also locking the cuffs together.

Now I picked-up the harness (Phyllis hasn't seen this item). Pulling it over my head, I then unpinned my dress, allowing the skirt to fall where it wanted (I AM NO LADY WHEN I PLAY BONDAGE GAMES) and secured the harness. First I snugly laced shut a 3-inch collar of thin deerskin. Hanging from the back of this was a 4-inch wide strap. In the front hung a 1-inch wide strap running from collar to my waist.. Riveted to the straps were 4 straps, each one was 2-inches wide -- one that would go around my torso above my breasts, one below my breasts, one just below my ribs and one around my waist. I quickly buckled the straps, slipping a small "poodle" lock through the tongue in each buckle. This harness fitted tight - in fact, the waist was so snug that I knew that my waist had been reduced to 24-inches. The locks secured, I looked in the mirror.

With the black straps of the harness contrasting to my white dress, pantyhose, heels, etc., the effect was something else. My packed mouth and the distressed look in my face caused by the extremely tight gag also helped. Except for my free hands I looked like the classical damsel in distress.

Now I picked-up the earplugs, fat foam cylinders, compressed them and put them into my ear canals. Over them went plugs of swimmers ear wax then a fat pad of cotton wool. It worked. I couldn't hear the radio that was quietly playing. Satisfied, I put on my gloves. First went on the "little white" gloves of wrist length. Next, I smoothed on the mid-forearm gloves over the wrist length gloves. Next came the "over-the-elbow" formal gloves - I had some slight trouble with the wrist buttons, but a button hook make short work of this problem. Taking the discipline helmet, I adjusted the laces so that it was open as much as possible. Taking a final look in the mirror, admiring the damsel in distress that I saw looking back at me, I slid the helmet over my head, closing my eyes as I did so and felt the eye pads slip into place over my eyes. After insuring that the nose holes were properly placed (1-inch lengths of 1/4-inch tubing slid up into my nostrils as the helmet slid into place), I laced-up the helmet. Once done, I knotted the laces and cut-off the excess.

Then I tossed the knife away to make freeing myself harder. Once done, the helmet fitted like a second skin, except for my mouth. The pressures the tightly laced helmet placed on the gag and my jaw were something else. Feeling around, I located the zipper and zipped-shut the helmet over the laces and buckled-shut the attached collar. Now feeling around on the cushions, I located the other collar. This was a rigid collar of stiff leather, double thickness and 5-inches high on the sides and back with a cut-out for the chin, and it had double locking straps 1-inch wide Riveted to it. Sliding the loops on the collar through the slots in the straps I closed the collar around my neck, covering the collar, zipper and lacing of the helmet. I located by feel the lock I wanted, not a "poodle" lock, but an honest bike padlock with a 6-inch long hasp. I slid the hasp of the lock through the loops but didn't lock it. Then I secured the straps on the helmet across my eyes and gag, further increasing the pressure on them, and locked them with "poodle" locks. Until I used the keys to release myself from the helmet, it was on to stay. At this time I also secured the end of the other length of chain to my collar between the two sets of straps on the collar, passing the bike lock through the end link, and then secured the lock.

Feeling around, I located the opera gloves. They slid easily onto my arms (the silk lining saw to that). It was a problem with the 5 buttons on each wrist, and even the button hook was little help since I couldn't see what I was doing, but eventually I secured the buttons and buckled snugly the straps on each glove above the elbow (inside the glove) and above the bicep (outside of the glove, but the top 3-inches folds-down covering the strap). My main problem was my dress sleeves. They were the short, mid-bicep puff sleeves that tightly buttoned at the base of the puff, but finally I managed to undo the buttons enough to slip the top of the gloves under each sleeve and then rebut toned each sleeve.

By now, my common sense was screaming to me "STOP NOW!!! GET YOURSELF OUT OF THIS BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE!!!" I was too stubborn. I started, I'll finish it. Lying on my side, I located the free end of the chain on my collar. I slid it through the ring at the head-end of the cushions, and then wiggled up toward the ring, tightening the chain until I was stretched as tight as was possible. I felt-around for the remaining padlock, found it and slid it through the link of chain at the ring and the ring and locked-it. Reaching behind my back, I located the purpose of this harness. (Here I have to digress. Located on the back strap, just below my shoulder blades is a loop of leather parallel to the strap. Through this I wound a series of 12-inch wide loops of heavy -3/16-inch thick - wall thickness - latex tubing -- a total of eight loops which I knotted the ends tightly together. Just at my waist, below the bottom of the strap, on the waist strap, I had riveted a pair of handcuffs which I had modified. I had cut the chain that connected the cuffs together and welded the cuffs to the ends of a 5-inch long by 1/2-inch thick steel rod that had been passed through three steel eyes (lock hasps riveted to the belt) which made it irremovable. With an effort, I managed to flex and bend both arms enough to get my hands to the wrists into the rubber hose loops. Working one arm at a time, I moved them by inches at a time down in-to the loops, keeping my arms tensed apart to stretch and spread the loops. Eventually I reached the bulge of my forearms, the point of no return. Here, I took a breather. I cupped my hands together and pressing out with my arms at the same time dipped one shoulder - it worked - the bands of tubing slid-over the elbow on that side. Doing the same with the other arm, I found I had reached my goal - both elbows were tightly pressed together, and I began to have doubts of freeing myself - even if my wrists were not secured, there was no way I would be able to pull my arms out of the embrace of the loops of rubber hosing. Imagining how I must look, I chuckled to myself at the sight I would present to an onlooker - Except for my wrists, I am totally and inescapably bound, with a discipline helmet tightly secured over my head. Due to the struggles with my elbow bindings, my skirt had ridden-up around my waist. Deciding to continue as the "damsel-in-distress" I didn't adjust it to cover me. I decided to finish myself off. I located the cuffs, managed to get my wrists into each and rolled-onto my back. With a "click" they were shut - too tight as it became quickly obvious as I felt the cuffs bite through 4 pairs of gloves. I was able to ignore the bite of the cord on my legs, but not that of the cuffs on my wrists, and since I had to flex my elbows - the cuffs were too high to allow my arms to remain straight, the loops of rubber hose around my elbows hurt very much. "Still," as I thought to myself, "give it a chance. Thank goodness for the cushions, otherwise..."

"THE CUSHIONS!!" I shrieked to myself all of a sudden. Before starting I was supposed to move the cushions so I would have room to move around. No wonder it was hard to turn - no slack in the chains because of the cushions I was laying on. The attempts I made to try to move the cushions were futile. The dense foam pads slid-into burlap covers that were laced through rings on the sides of the covers to rings on the sheet of plywood that formed the seat of the sofa. Unable to move them, my body was bent into an arc from just above my knees to the tops of my shoulders. In spite of that, the discovery I next made was the ultimate. Feeling around to free myself - now I was getting scared - I couldn't find the keys. I tried to think of where they should be - in spite of the cushions I should be able to reach them, after all, they were on the cushion next to me... or were they? I thought back, then I panicked -- I HAD LEFT THE KEYS ON THE SINK IN THE KITCHEN!!

I struggled and fought my bonds until I was soaked to the skin. By now, the cords, tubes and cuffs were beyond hurting. I was being flayed alive, the chastity belt also added to the fun. It was rubbing saddle sores. In fact, I was beginning to lose feeling in my arms and legs - the restricted circulation was making everything feel fuzzy. I also discovered why a discipline helmet was so named - as I become heated from struggling, the sweat gathered inside the helmet, and combined with the tight fit of the leather across my face, made the helmet very uncomfortable.

In addition, the gag and helmet combination was a mistake. As the wet strip of cloth dried, it shrunk, and was beginning to push the sponge further into my mouth. Then I remembered the headlines for the past several weeks - several girls and young women had been found dead in their apartments -- bound and strangled -- the thoughts of someone breaking-in and finding me like this arose.

"What if they decided to kill me because the chastity belt and helmet made it impossible for me to service them with a fuck or a blow job? What if they managed to remove the chastity belt and discovered that I am not a girl, but a man? On second thought, no problem there - after all, THIS IS NEW YORK!!! GREENWICH VILLAGE, CHRISTOPHER STREET, MARBLE ARCH PARK, etc. No, a crossdressed male would still be a common fuck (as could and still can be found by the truck terminals). But still, the chastity belt had a mesh of chain mail between the layers of the waist band and the crotch strap - "no key, no pee" as Phyllis put it when we bought it. And few men, no matter how horny they were, would risk a forced blow job. I had plenty to worry about. Also, what if the landlord's handyman came to do some work? 'He does have a key, but he comes by appointment - still, there's emergencies to worry about' I thought to myself. A fire - the Fire Department, the Police, the Press!!! It was too-much. I resumed my struggles - suddenly I felt myself stifling - I couldn't breathe - there was a buzzing sensation and a hammering in my head. Then Nothing.

I'm back. All still is dark. The pain was gone - only numbness in my limbs. The brine gag was the most painful thing I have ever experienced. No wonder the Ancient Romans would pack a rebellious slave's mouth with salt and then gag them and after a day let them see water. If I were that slave, I would rush to the cross for a drink of water. I knew I was in trouble. The swelling of my arms and legs would cause the loss of feeling. The sponge packed in my mouth was partially in my throat making it hard to breathe - not bad enough to gag me, but I knew that any more struggling might cause it to silk back further - but as the cutting sensation from the drying cloth strip told me, I might not have to struggle - for the cloth was still shrinking - pushing against the sponge. Also, the helmet wasn't helping. Even if I hadn't plugged my ears, the leather over my ears would still hinder my hearing. Also, the leather of the helmet was trapping my sweat against my skin, making me feel hotter and sweatier than I really was. The tubes in my nose were next to the worst - the holes in them are only 3/16-inch in diameter, OK for long, gentle breathing. Disaster for panicked, struggling breathing. The worse were my collars. Not enough to strangle, but close -- I fought to force myself to stay calm, relax, lower my blood pressure. It was a cycle - I relaxed, then I panicked. Every time I came down, I was worse off than before. How long this went on, I couldn't tell. I almost panicked when I feel something touch my thigh (by now my dress had slid-up so high that under my back my fingertips could feel the hem of the skirt. Breezes from the open window told me that the top of my dress was in even worse dishabille). I stop struggling when the fingers tapped a 1-2-3 1-2-3 tempo on my leg - Phil's signal to me when I am unable to hear, telling me that she is taking charge. I relaxed.

OK - Phil was home. She kept her word. I had bound myself on Saturday, and it was now One AM Tuesday Morning - she kept me bound for two more days. Only now did I really begin to pay. Without removing the helmet, she removed my harness, dress and chemise. She put the layered gloves to good use - she bound my wrists together in front of me and then suspended me from the rings holding the sofa against the ceiling, with my legs pulled apart and spread wide. She than took a belt and spent, it seems, hours using it on every inch of my back, sides, inner legs and front.

After the flogging (that's what it was) I was cut-down. The collar and helmet were removed and I was allowed to free myself as well as I could. Phyllis than told me to bathe and then stand by the foot posts of our bed. That night, and for the next month I spent my nights with my wrists bound behind my back and the bed post, my body and ankles bound to the post, suspended with my feet off the floor, supported only by my bonds, gagged and blindfolded.

Eventually the rope burns faded - but the memories and trauma didn't.

-->

0
0

18.05.2022
12
0

Sinbad The Sorcress and Djinn Fassad

3 years ago
0
33
0

Islamabad Se Peshawar Tak

4 years ago
0
26
0

Islamabad Mein Pyar

3 years ago
0
27
0

Same as A Bad Trip Videos

Candy Striper

Special thanks to Phil Gorman 2014 for his expertise in re-editing and proofing. I have always enjoyed helping people and being a candy striper at the hospital gives me an opportunity to do just that. It all started nearly two years ago when mom and I visited one of my aunts who had an operation. I saw a number of young candy stripers assisting a group of young patients. Mom told me that, at fourteen, I was too young to volunteer. Being persistent, I manage to get an application and a booklet...

IslamabadRawalpindi Encounter

I am 24/m from Islamabad/ Pakistan.To tell u about my self, I am not a casanova. I am 5.9? well built but a little overweight and very horney. The experience, I am telling u has happend just 2 weeks ago. I would say that this happening is not a story of a Resputiene and Russion Queen, but between a normal 34 years man and a plump lady of 30. I was in Super market, for some shopping,when I saw a fat woman wresteling with a flat tyre of her car. I observed few boys laughing at her, for her...

Incest

Islamabad mein Choudai

Hi This is Ali I live in Islamabad I am very big fan of human digest and I have been reading stories for about 3 years this is my first story ever I told to any body and this is 100% true story which happened to me. My English is bit on weaker side so please don’t mind and I don’t know that way to write my story but here is my little effort to let u know about my sex experience with a sexy lady First let me tell u about myself I am a typical Pakistani guy with a fair looks I had 6 feet height...

Islamabad ka waqeya

Hello dear readers This is me, marriam peerzada again. After quite some time I m back with my new story, it’s the real story and all characters are alive and few are very close to me, let me start it then. As u know me m marriam that time I was 19 years old I was living in Lahore, but I had to move to live with my tayyaba baji in Islamabad. She works for a firm that gets contracts from army so she actually has a flat in an army area (can’t.). I moved with her because she fell ill and there was...

Ahmadabad Aunty

I have been a regular reader of ISS and I have published two stories earlier. I am Arjun, now in Ahmadabad. Now I want to tell you what happened 10 days back. Once I came to Ahmadabad, there was not much people whom I know. I have taken a flat in a luxurious apartment and there I met a family. Uncle, Aunty and their son. Let me tell you about aunty, Her name is Deepa (name changed). She is now 35 years old, well built with 36-32-38. I met them in the lobby one day and after talking to them, I...

Candy Striper

New Candy Striper By Janet L. Stickney [email protected] The reason is obscure, the guilt very real, the urge undeniable. I had no way to stop myself from getting dressed up in mothers clothes once that urge hit me. Unstoppable, like a freight train, it compelled me to do it, but with each encounter I had with those clothes, I just had to go a bit further. First it was just a dress. Then it was a bra. Panties followed that, and now, well, I'm using makeup now. Every time I...

Airstrip

Chapter one The old airstrip behind our neighbourhood was such a lovely place to exercise. I always loved skating on my in-liners, but after moving here it has become almost an obsession. The asphalt of the strip has held up nicely since it was closed down for airtraffic, giving me a very smooth surface - which by incident I have all to myself. The strip runs smoothly uphill from where I go onto it, and setting a hard speed uphill for a mile and a half gives me a nice sweat. Going downhill is...

Islamabad ki aunty

Hello resdrs mera naam ALI hai aur main Islamabad(PAKISTAN) main rahta hu meri age 21 year hai, aj main jis aunty ki kahani sunane jar aha hun wo aunty hamary mohalla ki rahne wali hain aur married hain magar unka koi bachha nahi hai .aun ke husband army main hote hain aur kabhi kabhi ghar ate hain aunty k sath aun ke saas rehty hain lakin wo aun dino apne bete k ghar kise village main gaye hoe thyn. Aunty aksar auqat hamary ghar main aty aur hamare ghar walon se kafi frank the main college ky...

Birthday Trip

Chapter 01: The Journey is The RewardMy name is Tom. This summer my Mom (41) and Dad (46) took me to a trip to Europe for my 18th birthday. I wanted to visit Europe for a long time, so my parents knew how much it meant to me. Although I wasn't thrilled that they bought three tickets. I wanted to go alone. Spending the summer with my parents didn't sound all that exciting. But they bought the tickets... and it was still a trip to Europe, so I couldn't say no to that.Although, the timing of the...

Training Triplets

Training TripletsChapter 1 IntroductionIt was a mild Monday morning in November when Racheal and her slave/assistant Jasmine went to visit Mr. & Mrs. Schwartz at their hotel in downtown Miami to discuss the training of the triplets they had found to become proper slaves. The Schwartz’s were recommended by her lawyer, who was in the scene. They were a very private couple who had amassed a large fortune by buying companies and selling them for huge profits. They were in the lifestyle and she...

The Sales Trip

It was typical Monday morning, the traffic was terrible and I was late for work again. I work in the sales department of a large international company. Even though I work in sales I never get to go on any of the sales trips. I was number three person in the sales dept. and only the top two went on the trips. Jim was the top salesman, he was in his mid thirties and handsome but he was a real asshole in the office. Susan was the number two sales person; she was an attractive Asian...

Ahmadabad Ke Pathan Ki Chudai Ki Raslila

Ye meri pehli story he aur ye sirf Ahmadabad ki un bhabhiyo aur ladkiyo k liye he jinhe asli pathan ka lund apni bhose me lene ki khwaish ho or jo koi ladki ya bhabhi ye cahti ho wo mujhe mail ker sakti he per Now coming to the story Ye takriban 4 sal pehle ki baat he me ek muslim area me rehta hu city me so waha sare ghar kafi pas pas hote he aur mere pados me ek ladki nayi nayi rehne aayi thi usdin me 12 baje utha tha aur apni maid ko nashta banane k liye bola aur me apni balcany me khada...

Fundraising for the Band Trip

Cassie Walters picked up her backpack and opened her laptop. She pulled up a spreadsheet were she entered the money she earned on her last babysitting job for her band trip to Europe. The trip was in five weeks, and she only had half the $6,000 the trip cost. Last night she would get $40, to lower the total she needed to $2,960. It was depressing. She spent every hour she could selling candy, washing cars, and other menial jobs to raise money. The trip meant everything to Cassie, she was an...

Our Trip

OUR SPECIAL CRUISE Introduction Our departure date had finally arrived. The cab would be here in a few minutes and we made sure all our luggage was ready. My wife Regina and I had been planning a special vacation cruise to Bermuda for the past nine months. We had taken a lot of time identifying those special things that would make this cruise memorable -in more ways than one. Maybe a little background would help. We had been married for ten years. Both of us were attorneys-in...

Crystal ClearChapter 1 Jims Life Restarts After His Road Trip

My meditation was broken by the almost inaudible sound of a footstep nearby. I sensed an animal; but instead of jerking my head around to look I remained absolutely still and slowly opened my eyes. From my right side, a fawn moved into the clearing with me – light brown with white markings, large dark eyes full of curiosity. The pretty animal knew I didn't belong, yet obviously didn't fear me. It approached and sniffed at my ear and cheek. Not too far away, I heard the heavier footfalls of...

Angelas business trip

Life was good but had lost some excitement, Angela felt the urge to do something daring and exciting but didnâ€™t want to upset the nice life her and Ben had made for themselves. Angela was a successful administrative assistant for a large firm. She had married Ben and had children who were now on their way to college. She and Ben had done well for themselves they had a nice house in an upscale neighborhood. Weekends in the summer were generally filled with BBQ, golf and relaxing in the hot tub...

Wife

My Reluctant Lactating Wife on a Hunting Trip

My wife, Eva, and I are now in our fifties, and we don’t have a very active sex life anymore, especially since Eva went through menopause several years ago. However, I do have wonderful memories of our sexual experiences from when we were younger.This story is about an event that took place on a hunting trip, and it changed our sex lives forever. I was thirty years old at the time and Eva had just turned twenty-seven. She was still breastfeeding our third child, who was born just four months...

Group Sex

A School Trip

"You know Alex, Working is probably a good idea" She would say without even staring at the screen as the young man turned his head towards her. "Yeh but Im just so great that I don't need to work" she would let out a small giggle at the remark but nothing more as was here way. There was a tension between the two, the young man seemed to be oblivious to the girls fondness of him and the nature of it too but regardless of that they appeared to be good friends. Then a grind could be heard...

My Reluctant Lactating Wife on a Hunting Trip

My wife, Eva, and I are now in our 50s, and we don’t have a very active sex life anymore, especially since Eva went through menopause several years ago. However, I do have wonderful memories of our sexual experiences from when we were younger. This story is about an event that took place on a hunting trip, and it changed our sex lives forever. I was 30 years old at the time and Eva had just turned 27. She was still breastfeeding our third child, who was born just four months prior to the time...

Badle ki bhawnae

Yes people, your evaluation sar ankhon pe.You can contact me at mai apne ghar me sabse chota hn 18 ka,aur mere pariwar me mom n dad ke alawa badi bahan divya 21 sal ki gori 5ft 5 ki aur 32 30 34 ke figure ki hai, aur ek bhai hai jo ki shadi ke bad alag rahta hai.Mai serious nature ka tha.Bachpan se hi mujhe khoob pareshan kiya jata tha.Mere dono bhai bahan mujhe daant khilate aur mera majak udate the.Ab college me ane ke bad bhi mujhe bhondu kaha jata aur meri bahan mujhe ghar me bahut...

The courtesan 1 the trip

The drone of the engines was almost hypnotizing. The itinerary said it would be around twelve hours before I arrived in Germany. In all the years I’ve traveled, this was the first time I had flown in anything but economy. The benefits of first class were obvious, especially the extra leg room. Except for the occasional bump in turbulence, the overstuffed, comfy chair gave me the feel of sitting in my recliner at home.The stewardess politely asked, “Would you like a refill of your wine, Mrs....

BDSM

new york trip

Day 1How was I trapped into this? A couple weeks ago, I substitute for a week for the band teacher, and now I find myself chaperoning a trip half way across the country. The high school band had been invited to play for the Independence Day celebration in New York City, but at the last minute the parental sponsor that was supposed to help, bailed out on the teacher. Mrs. Stevens said that I had seemed to connect well with the teens, and needed a male chaperone, so asked if I wanted an all...

The Road Trip

The Road Trip Jimmy was waiting by the door of his parent's house with a small bag packed beside him. He was back from college and had spent Christmas with the family but now he was waiting on his girl-friend to come and pick him up. They were going to take a long weekend and do a little road trip for New Year's. First stop was going to be Austin. He saw her car pulling up in front. "See you in a couple days!" he hollered as he reached for the doorknob. "Have a good time, but not...

Pitching A Tent Road Trip

As I sat in my apartment with my bag packed up and ready to go, I tried to stay positive about the weekend ahead."It'll be just as fun as it always is," I kept telling myself. But the message rang hollow. It didn't seem like that was going to be possible.The trip I had packed for was the annual McCormick boys camping excursion, and it was typically something I looked forward to every year. At its inception, it started as a family thing. All four of us — mom; dad; my brother, George; and myself...

Love Stories

a very nice trip

It was end-winter/begin-spring about, April i remember it :-P, when i and my sister have an another trip of commission, this time the trip, that of going, it was in bus at difference of the previous trips of commission (recounted in my previously stories :-P) that i and my sister did always in train and my sister had always a nice clothing namely skirt and pantyhose and low shoes and also in the last trip previous at this (recounted toward the end of the previous my story of this story :-P) she...

Skiing trip

Skiing trip My name is Robert Dawson and I’m a 16 year old boy. This is the story of my first sexual experience and the way it changed my life forever. Me and my family live in Telford, a little city in the middle of England. My mother Diane raised us as a single parent , Dad died when I was only 3 years old . I was two young then to understand where he was but is missed him since. Its Pretty tough to grow up without a dad but I managed. Yeah and there are also my sisters Amy ,she is...

The coeds wild field trip

The coed_s wild field trip CHAPTER ONE "I think I'd really like to feel those hot lips of yours sucking on my cock," Frank told Virginia. He chuckled a little as she blushed. She was such a hot bush he could hardly keep his erect prick inside his pants. It was really hurting him and bad. "That's gross," she primly told him. The heat of her embarrassment was slowly fading but still the way he'd so boldly approached her rankled her. The very, idea! "No, it's not. I...

E077 The Start Of A Road Trip

Emma’s gift of the Navigator to Donald for his birthday starts his mind churning and plotting. He came up with an idea and more or less planned it the week or two before their birthdays. He isn’t exactly sure they should do it, but he thinks about it in terms of renting an SUV to make it happen.Emma’s gift of the Navigator seems to be a sign that yes, this should happen.So, Donald scours maps, calculates things, and a couple of days after their birthdays presents his plan to Emma at...

Love Stories

Senior Trip

A week before the trip… Jason Robbins tapped his pencil on his desk as he listened to his science teacher drone on. His emerald green eyes kept darting over to the clock, waiting for the school bell to finally ring. Come on sixty seconds he thought, the tapping of the pencil speeding up. The school year was almost over, which meant one thing to him. Senior class trip. He had been waiting for over a month to go on this trip. A full week away from all the pressure of school, a week to spend with...

Wife Plans A Trip

Wife Plan’s a TripGenerally speaking I have always set up the vacation arrangements, trip maps, hotel accommodations and sightseeing spots. But my wife wanted to set this one up. “All you have to do is some driving and tell me what days off you have, I’ll handle everything else.” I was somewhat surprised as this has never happened before. I told her dates, three months away then kinds forgot about it until she reminded me the week before we left,“Don’t forget out trip next Tuesday, I’ll have...

Hot Threesome On Road Trip

After doctor Bandhan opened up the world of proper incest for me and my mom Soma, needless to say we fucked each other day and night. All day in class I would think about how mom would take off my clothes once I reach home..and how she will take a shower with me.. Mom was also extremely happy about what was happening. She wanted to do anything to please her darling son, so even if I’m just watching tv, she will come and sit next to me and at least play with my cock. She never refuses to suck...

Incest

Amity 4 The HerdsChapter 28 The Trip

The trip to Ochre City was surprisingly boring. Captain Hail had set the suite aside for Sable and I. I had the master room, and Harry was bunking with Sable in his room. We even had our own little reading room between our rooms and a little bathroom. The ship was now fully lit, and they even had a better pump, so we had water for the showers. Silver had added a new water tank in the hold as part of our ballast, so we no longer carried the water barrels. She had even fitted a special...

49 year old wife gets gang bang by three strippers

Jenna had been working with my wife for the last two years. Her wedding was coming up and some of the girls in the office wanted to throw her a special party before she got married. My wife who is 49 is way older than most of the twenty something co-workers she works with. When they first asked my wife about coming to Jenna’s party my wife immediately said no. At 49 she didn’t really think it would be very appropriated for someone of her age to attend. They had talked to 6 girls already and all...

MILF

The Company Trip

The Company Trip Chapter One First story I have posted in some time, but inspired to write one from reading my favorite authors here at Lush. Hope you enjoy. I would like to thank everyone that helped in editing. Shelby had been looking forward to this trip since the day her boss had told her that the company had decided the inside sales desk people were allowed to go for the first time. She had been with the company for two years and always thought how lucky the outside sales people were...

Bisexual

Amy Vs The Strippers

As the two strippers (one was a stunning curly-haired, artificial redhead with purple highlights and the other was a beautiful woman of mixed African American & Korean ancestry. Both were wearing red g-strings, tassels, high-heels and their skin was covered with body glitter and a light sheen of sweat. Amy would letter find out their names were Cherry Pepper and Lulu) writhed around the pole and fondled each other as men threw dollar bills on the stage, Amy was writing a first draft email on...

Amy Vs The Strippers

As the two strippers (one was a stunning curly-haired, artificial redhead with purple highlights and the other was a beautiful woman of mixed African American & Korean ancestry. Both were wearing red g-strings, tassels, high-heels and their skin was covered with body glitter and a light sheen of sweat. Amy would letter find out their names were Cherry Pepper and Lulu) writhed around the pole and fondled each other as men threw dollar bills on the stage, Amy was writing a first draft email...

Megs New Career and First Business Trip

Introduction: Megs New Career and First Business Trip My friends say Im over sexed, I think theyre under sexed. By the way, Im Meg.. Ive kept my self in shape, watching my diet and exercising. From the way men stare at by beasts and turn their heads when I walk by, Id say men like what they see. Paul, my husband, and I make love almost every night, and love to start our with morning sex. We dont have to make love twice a day, we want to. My friends blamed Paul for being over sexed, demanding...

The Road Trip

The Road Trip Belladonna "Eighteen hours," George Mallon said to himself with a smile while he stared at the map he had created on his phone. The mere idea of spending eighteen, uninterrupted hours en femme as he made his way back home made his manhood stiffen. It had taken months of planning, as well as mustering up the courage to go through with it, but George had put himself in the position to spend the longest continuous amount of time out his home en femme in his life. ...

The Holiday Trip

I can’t believe I was really going through with this trip. I only chatted with this couple on line in an adult virtual sexual world site. Something about them just got my mind and body wanting more. Not really knowing if my husband would really go along with it, I decided not to tell him the whole truth about our holiday trip. I made all the reservation and started packing early. I still had two days of work and my husband had three. I just pray I don’t chicken out of the plan I made with this...

Group Sex

The Consulting Trip

My girlfriend, Patti, and I had just returned from a weekend trip for my birthday. That had been 4 days and nights of new experiences to say the least. It had started when Patti insisted that I spend the entire trip enfemme. You can read that story here: https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/87885/kathi-jo-takes-weekend-trip We returned and got back to our normal work schedules, Patti in computer operations, me in computer software consulting. I did the vast majority of work from...

The Trip

At first the road trip seemed like a good idea. Get away from the hustle and bustle of Denver. Drive up to Yellowstone, shoot some pictures, try to reconnect with the girl he married. Have a little sex under the stars. Dinners at the lodge or down the road in Jackson Hole. Yeah, it seemed like a great idea, at the time. But things started going wrong from the start. "Are you kidding? I can't take two weeks off to go on this crazy trip," Angela had said, with that frown line between her eyes...

Head Trip

Head trip Something from my writing place that, with its erotic, sexual undertones, could suit a site like this. I must warn, though, that I like to play and amuse myself. Phase 1: Muscular tension Authority is a static social configuration in which people act as superiors and inferiors: a sadomasochistic relationship. Liberty is a dynamic social configuration in which people act as equals: an erotic relationship. In every interaction between people, either Authority or Liberty is the...

The Rogers Family Annual Camping Trip

Author’s note. This is the sequel to V.R.. While this story can stand on its own without reading the other first, the reader will have better understanding if familiar with it. ***** Day one, Saturday Jerome Rogers threw another bag into the small trailer he was packing then looked over at the front porch where his and his wife’s kids sat talking quietly. He could see the concern on his son’s face as he asked his step sister something and the weak smile she gave from her pale face as she...

The Unexpected Trip

There is a very fine line between humor and horror, it just matters where on the line you stand. "Captain's log, star date 6908.15. We are heading toward the planet Eden, in the shuttle craft Galileo. Mr. Sulu has corrected course, and projects, planetary orbit in 75 minutes. Mr. Spock is still trying to fold up the map," laughed Kirk. As the 11 of us rode in the Galileo, we prepared to go to Woodstock, the new Eden, in Kirk's micro bus. Even Roofus the dog was going to...

My First Field Trip

All my years in Brownies finally pay off. My mom insisted for years that being a Brownie would help me grow up to be a responsible young lady. Well, now I'm full-fledged Girl Scout. I'm so proud of myself for all the work and trials I've completed successfully to get all my Merit Badges. Mom and dad are delighted as well. I'm Jayden Raven. At fourteen, my body still hasn't fully developed. My long blonde hair usually shines and my ponytail sways with my body movements. My friends tell me...

Incredible ChangesChapter 61 Field Trip

It was only two blocks to the hotel from where I had met Anna to give her all the gear the U.S. Treasury team had put on me. I only wanted a hat and jacket. On the way to the hotel, I found that Anna had picked my obnoxious shirt out perfectly. It was juvenile enough to be annoying without having sexual stuff that would get me in deep crap with the teachers coming on the trip. The bright neon green of the shirt did make most of the people who looked at me turn away. Others looked at the...

Road Trip

Kelly and her husband, Mitch decided they needed to get away for a little while. Since Mitch was working from his laptop for the next few weeks, they decided to head up to the summer house. It was a nice two-room cabin in the mountains near a lake. They would normally go up for vacation and hike, fish, sail with friends and relatives. This trip, it was just the two of them, and in the off-season.Kelly dressed in shorts and a tank top for the ride up, getting a head start on being comfortable....

Exhibitionism

FAMILY ROAD TRIP

By Oediplex Watching the folks do it. How I got to make it with mom. You can cum too! For all sons and mothers who ever thought about committing incest with their parent or child, this piece of erotic writing is produced to make you cum. We all need a cum. To that end . . May your every fantasy take flight! Oediplex 8==3~ Home is where the hard-on is raised Ever since I turned eighteen I had been listening to my parents make love. Each evening when they retired, I...

Ely Trip

Ely is excited! The school is finished and Ely is leaving for the travel of her life: the whole summer around Europe. What about me? I met Ely during my trip around Europe. I spent some days with Ely and she told my her story. Before telling you the story of this trip let me introduce Ely. Ely has just turn 18 and she is an Italian girl with long blond hairs. She is not a model but she is cute, very cute. Ely is average tall and her body is athletic with many curves on the right places. She...

The Fishing Trip

My husband Greg and I have been married but a few years yet it seems sometimes as if much of the fire has gone from our relationship. For instance, recently he went on a weeklong fishing trip to Canada with his buddies. He is an avid fisherman, and he and his buddies take at least one such trip a year. This year he was consumed with work and preparations the week before the trip; it didn’t much help matters that the middle of week brought the onset of my period. Owing to my strict upbringing,...

The Day Before The Trip

Well this one is a throwback sex story!!! When I was studying final year of my PU and me and my friends had planned a trip just the 4 of my classmates to hills station in “Ooty” and we thought of having a road trip which would be fun and Sanil had agreed to bring his Dad’s car, so that we all 4 would have a long road trip and the journey would be more fun than the actual destination, it was easy for Sanil as his dad was in Dubai and his Mom was very of a jolly person in herself so she had no...

Road Trip

This is a continuation of my A Wish to God characters. Just like A Wish To God, it stands as it's own story. But you probably should read Wish To God first before reading this story. Enjoy. Raod Trip by Brad Miller Part 1 Ron and I were going to have a lot of fun with our unique powers. It was about ten minutes ago when Ron came to my house to talk to me, well actually he came to Raquel's house and talked to me inhabiting Raquel's body. Ron wasn't himself either. He was...

A Teacher and Her Student a Forbidden LoveChapter 6 Road trip

The next several weeks went by rapidly, Alice was quickly accepted by Anna and Harry as a close friend of their son, and themselves, and she joined them for dinner each Saturday evening, after spending the midday with John. During the day Alice and John would go shopping, prepare themselves for their trip, sunbath, or in general enjoy each other's company. Their goodbye hugs had become a sort of ritual, to which the both of them were looking forward to. John would wrap his arms around her...

Band Geek DiaryChapter 36 Spring Band Trip

April 5 The Concert Band and the Wind Symphony loaded up the busses and got on the road this morning, headed for a band festival and competition out of state. Since we weren’t assigned specific seats for the trip, Katie and I rode together so we could spend as much time together as possible. Mr. J. was pretty cool about couples sitting together on the bus, but he was also determined not to let any of us get too far. He told us he’d been in bands just like we are and had probably tried most...

Sensations Escort ServiceChapter 14 Amberrsquos Trip

A sleek black limousine picked up Amber at her apartment the morning of April eighth. The destination was the local airfield where she boarded a private jet. Her luggage was loaded aboard. She was meeting Roger Moore, her benefactor, pseudo-boyfriend for the next forty days, and her ‘date’, in St. Louis where he’d board and continue the trip with her. The hop to Kansas City didn’t even take two hours. Roger hustled aboard while the refueling truck topped off the sleek jet, the crew changed,...

The Road Trip

Note : This story is completely fictional! My name is David and I am 19 years old. I’m 6 feet tall and 213 pounds with an 8 inch dick. Let me tell you about Sarah before the story begins she is 18 about 5 feet 4 inches tall with 34c breasts. This is the story of the road trip we took together to Indiana last summer. Sarah Suggested that we take a road trip before we went to our separate collages after the summer was up. After a few hours of arguing about where we should go we decided to go see...

Incest

The Breeding of the Triplets

The Breeding of the Triplets Chapter 1This is a tale that occurs sometime in the future, eight unfortunate females, from the same family, two pair of triplets, and their mothers who just happened to be twins were captured on one of the daughters wedding day, they were transported by ship to my island, unfortunately for them it was a slow ship allowing plenty of time for modifications to be made to their bodies, the modifications were designed to...

Badminton club

Hopefully erotica for those who would like to be titillated.Sorry to run off early ladies, but I have to get home to put the little ones to bed. See you all next week” shouted Amanda as she ran out of the changing room. I sat on the bench in the old school changing rooms, absolutely shattered. It had turned out to be a really lovely evening, with three other mums, from my k**s school, playing badminton. I hadn’t played since I was a teenager, and I used to love the game. Sadly age, ch*****n,...

Porn Trends