Bondage / BDSM

Orgasm Machine

Finally the end of a very long day, much longer than normal. I stare at the phone, wanting to call you, to hear the sound of your voice, I know that there is no way that you can answer that phone call even if you wanted to. By now, my grand experiment, the afternoon of teasing and sweet torment for you and our evening of play as Master and sub, would already have begun. As I look at the clock on my desk, a grin starts to grow on my face. By now, you are probably ready and waiting for me. I remember how it began. We had just finished one of our evening sessions of , teasing, torment, and, yes, satisfaction. I had fallen asleep, when I awoke, you were still snuggled in my arms. As I slowly opened my eyes and looked down, I saw you, looking back up at me. Those eyes of yours, now wide open, were speaking to me when nothing else could. Your tender lips were still wrapped around that white ballgag, the rubber ball, deep inside your mouth, held in place by the white leather strap fastened at the nape of your neck.

The only sound coming from behind that ball is the soft sound of moaning. I love that sound, it says so much more than a dictionary of words could ever say. Feeling your firm breasts pressing against me, I remember, with a chuckle, that there is nothing else that you can do. Your arms are still tied tightly, your wrists bound palm to palm and your elbows tied, touching. The effect of tying your elbows, making you thrust those tender breasts forward, has always excited me. And it always will. At least I had remembered, before our playtime, to untie your ankles. I had to, the way you were tied when I came into the room, your ankles tied to your thighs in a lotus position, and your body, your head, bent forward, I had two choices. One was to rest you on your back, with your legs lifted into the air, and to take you that way. The other choice, the one I preferred and the one I picked, was to untie the rope around your ankles, slowly and gently remove that pesky little vibrator that had been doing its work between your legs, and to take your body and your mind to new heights.

Quick work with the old trusty pocket knife removed the ropes. The rest of the rope, holding your arms, and your elbows, tightly together, and that ballgag, stuffed deep inside your mouth, would have to wait until later. Untying your legs had permitted you, later as we slept, to rest your left leg, and your thigh, across my midsection. As I continued to slowly awaken from that pleasant sleep, I could still feel the moistness between your legs. A soft, evil littles laugh would escape from my lips, as I remembered that it takes only a little encouragement from me to get that soft little motor of yours running again. I remember you once saying that all it takes is only two words from me, those two words, to melt the infamous Ice Lady into puddles. But that’s a different story. I hear myself saying, “hello, my love.” Your response is that warm, soft humming sound and your body snuggling even closer to mine. I can feel your nipples, once again springing to life and regaining their hardness, pressing against my body. My left hand is wrapped around you, holding you, my sweet lady, gently cradling your body next to mine, feeling the warmth of your soft skin.

I gently, and slowly, slide my right hand up and down your body, from your side, down to your thigh, that soft, luscious thigh that still rests across my body. I know that we could do it again, to once again reach that state of nirvana for both of us. But the grin on my face fades as I remember that I must leave. Yet again, that soft laugh, this time perhaps even more mischievous, escapes from my lips as I think about the plans that I have for you. “My sweet little one”, I say, while looking deeply into your eyes, “I have made a new toy for you to play with. But it again involves my friend. He will be back, and you are to do whatever he says. He did not hurt you the last time, he will not hurt you this time. As I continue to look down into your eyes, I know you remember his sudden appearance. In his hands he had carried a handwritten note from me, instructing you to follow his orders.

You did so, which meant that you ended up bound, gagged, and sitting on the bed, your hands tied tightly behind your back, your feet tied in a lotus position, and between your legs that vibrator. Working on a timer, the vibrator kept you aroused. But the timer did not let you reach that point of satisfaction that you sought. That would have to wait, and did wait, until moments after I walked through the door, several hours later. By then, your tender little butt was almost continually bouncing up and down on the bed, as you tried to achieve your orgasm. You never could, however, not until I freed your legs, removed the vibrator, and began our evening of more teasing and, finally, satisfaction. The knock on the door must have startled you. Or maybe it was his reappearance at the front door of your apartment.

He said that the look on your face, when you opened the door, was like a doe, crossing the road, but caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. No fear, he said, but more of realising that something was coming and that there was nothing you could do, short of disappointing me, that would stop it. And you and I both know that you would never disappoint me. As he walked through the open doorway and closed the door behind him, his first instruction were very simple: “Remove all of your clothes.” Today it would not matter what you were wearing when he arrived, for you would wear nothing at all as the game began. You were to be naked, save for some ropes, when you greeted me later that day. Save also for my toy, my creation for you. He told me that you had gone to the bedroom, removed all of your clothes, and then slowly walked back into the main room. I could see you doing that, as he described it to me. I could also see your proud breasts, pointing at him, but wanting only to be touched by me. You are always proud of your beautiful body, even more proud when you give it as a gift to me, my love. His words were, again, short and to the point.

“Turn and face away from me.” He would then take hold of your hands, your wrists, slowly pull them behind you, palm to palm, and tie them securely. Another rope would go around your elbows, drawing them closer and closer, until they nearly touched. What would follow would be your reaction, the reaction that I love, to the elbow – your breasts, now lifted even higher and pointing forward even more proudly, and your nipples beginning to harden, anxiously awaiting your Master’s touch. The gag this time would be a black leather panel gag, with several leather straps that would fasten around your face, much like a head harness. My favorite toy for you, the red rubber ball, would still be there, this time securely fastened inside the leather panel and filling your mouth. The panel, along with the rubber ball, would reduce to almost a nonexistent level any noises from within your mouth.

Your ankles would be unmercifully and firmly bound together by a short metal rod, not unlike a spreader bar but little more than a foot in length. At each end of the rod was a leather strap to gently, but firmly, hold those sweet ankles in place. At this point, your expected and completely normal reaction would be fear, fear of being tightly bound, gagged and totally helpless while exposed to the hands of someone other than your Master. But my words that were given to you, both this time and before, had to have given you the inner peace that you should have, my sweet lady. And that rapid pace of your breathing, your breath, moving rapidly in and out of your nostrils, was not due to fear rather, it was due to the building excitement inside you, the excitement that envelops your soft, sweet body every time you are bound and gagged by your Master. I am sure that when he started to walk out the door, after completing that task of securely binding and gagging you, you must have thought that his work was done and that all you had to do was wait until my arrival.

But that thought would disappear as he would say “I will be back for the second part.” Knowing you as I do, I am sure that you once again tested your bonds. You pride yourself at being feisty (that phrase of mine, which perhaps describes why I like you that way….“if I want a doormat, I will go to K-Mart to buy one”). But you would find that the wrist, elbow and ankle bonds were tight and unforgiving. And the gag, strapped as it was tightly around your head, was not coming off without help. I would also bet–-a safe bet–that you would try to stomp your feet in frustration, but find that the spreader bar restricted even that slight movement. If the truth were to be known, it would be that I love that reaction, the stomping of your feet with the frustrated squealing sound from behind the ballgag, and the look in your eyes that would say to me that “Master, this is not fair, tying me this way.” Had I been there to watch that reaction, I would have, with a soft laugh, reminded you that the word “fair” seems to have been excluded from the dom dictionary. He said you jumped a little, startled, as the front door to your apartment again opened.

While he was out of the apartment for that moment, you had managed to turn around, to once again face the door. I don’t know whether you jumped because you thought it was him or me. Or maybe you thought it was someone else, a stranger, coming through the door who would have found you bound, gagged and totally helpless. If it was the last, it would have been a discomforting thought. I know your eyes must have widened when you saw “it”, my latest toy, as he carried it through the door and set it down in front of you. A small, wooden platform, just large enough for you to stand on, with a metal rod at the front of the platform protruding upward, with several other items attached to the platform and to the metal rod. Perhaps its purpose became evident as he rested the platform on the floor, walked towards you, lifted you from behind, and placed your standing body on the platform..

Maybe the electric plug at the base got your attention, or maybe it was the second, smaller metal rod extending from the center of the base upward, beneath where you stood, with the hard, rubber attached at the top. He said that as he placed you on the platform, your heels came to rest on the two, small metal boxes attached to the back of platform, the pressure of your heels pushing two tiny plungers down to the base of the box. I know that you did not realize that this would be the only time you could push down on the plungers and not have anything else happen. His next move was to reach down to the rod, attached to the platform base beneath you, and slowly turn it, sliding it upward between your legs, until the on the top of the rod first touched that soft area between your legs. Each turn slid it higher, and deeper within your body. I did not remind him to make sure that you were moist at that point. I simply knew that either you were, which would help that rubber intruder slide within you, or even if you weren’t you would be within a few short moments, especially as your body, almost involuntarily, would begin to slowly slide up and down on the rubber intruder as he moved it higher, deeper, and inside of you. He later told me that, as he glanced uwpard, he saw your eyes begin to flutter, as you slid your body, ever so slightly, up and down to enjoy the filling sensation inside of you. I was sure that the intruder between your legs would get your attention, as would the nipple clamps hanging by a thin cord from the metal rod in front of you. He needed to do nothing to your nipples, to harden them, as they would already be hard, perhaps from the rubber tool between your legs, your body bound the way it was, or just the thought of my eventual touch of your soft, warm body.

Even as I sit here, I can hear the squealing noises from behind your gag, your eyes suddenly opening wide, as he fastened the tiny clamps, one to each nipple. On the other end of that cord holding the nipple clamps was a small weight that had been threaded through the tiny pulley protruding from the bar in front of you. I can imagine the puzzled look on your face, as you looked down and examined that weight. Even though it was only a few ounces, I can still see you leaning forward to ease the tension, realising as you did that the weight came to rest on a small, flat metal plate. He was told to warn you, just before he connected the electrical cord at the base of the platform to the wall socket, to pull back on the nipple clamps, to lift the weight from the metal plate, and to stand on your toes, rising your heels off of the plungers on the metal boxes beneath your heels.

I am sure that he gave that warning, otherwise your reaction would have been even more immediate. He would then reach down to a small tape recorder, attached with duct tape to the metal rod at the front of the platform, and turn it on. The sound of my voice, and my words, filled the room. “Hello, little love. I have made this toy for you, to keep you occupied until I arrive. Perhaps you think that the vibrator between your legs will not do much. But listen to my words carefully, my sweet lady. I now want you to lean forward, to let the weight that is attached to your nipples rest on the metal plate.” He said that you quickly followed my instructions. And that your eyes immediately widened as the rubber quickly seemed to spring to life, vibrating and moving around inside of you, sliding deeply in, then out, and moving in a rotating motion. You even were able to stay on your toes as you pulled your breasts and your nipples back, lifting the weight off of the metal plate. The vibrator then stopped just as quickly. The tape in the recorder continued to turn, again with the sound of my voice. “Now, my little one, slide back off of your toes, and rest your heels on the plungers on the metal boxes beneath your feet.”

Even now, I can see you shaking your head from side to side, trying to say “no” and guessing at the result. But a gentle tap from him on your shoulder achieved the desired result. Your body, your heels, went back on the tiny plungers, and the vibrator again sprang to life, sliding back and forth, and up and down deep inside of you. He said that your reaction was, again, immediate, that loud squeal from behind the ballgag and your body rising upward, balanced on your toes. But you apparently miscalculated and leaned too far forward, resulting in the weight connected to the cord from the nipple clamps touching the metal plate, and the vibrator again springing back to life. He later told me that you quickly pulled your chest back, causing the strain on your nipples, and yet managed stayed on your toes. The voice from the recorder, my voice, continued to fill the room. “You can, if you want, satisfy yourself with the vibrator, my love. You now know how to do it. But remember that each orgasm will weaken you, until you can neither stand on your toes nor support the weights with your nipples. At that point, the vibrator will continue relentlessly, until I shut it off.”

What followed, ranging from your squealing sounds to a few noises that sounded like you were trying to yell, loudly, and demand that you be removed from this latest toy of mine, all the time shaking your head back and forth as if to deny reality, were your fruitless attempts at protesting your situation. But his work was done, and his instructions were to leave your apartment, and to securely lock the front door behind him. When I arrived little more than an hour later, I could easily guess what had happened. As feisty as you are, you would have tried to stay on your toes as long as possible and would have arched your back, to pull on the clamps attached to your nipples, the cord, and most importantly, the weight, to keep the weight off of the metal plate. It would have been such a beautiful sight–your proud firm breasts and your hard nipples, being pulled by the weight attached to your nipple clamps and the muscles of your legs, pulled tight and firm, and your head, held , in that streak of stubbornness that I love about you.

Knowing you as I do, you must have lasted for quite a while and even perhaps playfully either leaned forward or backward and, for a few moments, enjoyed the effect of the vibrator. But at some point you would have given in, totally. As I walked through the door, you were at the point of yet another orgasm. Your eyes, already glazed, were staring into open space. And your hips were grinding, to match the movements of the vibrating . I was sure that this was not your first orgasm. Your wetness was streaming down the metal rod beneath your body and down your thighs. I was just as sure that this was not even the second or third. When your mind and body came back to this world, I would ask you at what number you lost count. I am not sure you even realised the moment that I disconnected the electrical cord and removed the nipple clamps, since your hips kept moving, back and forth, on the vibrator and your eyes continued to stare forward.

Perhaps reality began when I gently lifted you off of the vibrator, and carried your body into the bedroom, resting you, face up, on the bed. You were covered with perspiration, your breath was rapid, breathing, as you were, through your nose. The hair between your legs glistened. It took only a moment for me to remove my clothes, unfasten your ankles from the spreader bar, gently spread your legs a bit wider, and then help you towards your next orgasm. I knew, at that point, that you had returned to this world, as your legs locked around my waist, your ankles pressed hard against the small of my back and you looked up at me, now with that mischievous look in your eyes. I don’t know whether it was seeing you, ready to achieve another orgasm as I came through the door, or perhaps even the expectation of seeing you that way, but I know that I was harder than ever before. Your orgasm and mine, coming at the same time, must have registered on equipment somewhere. Not long after that, we were both lying on the bed, your body snuggled next to mine. When I awoke, you were still snuggled in my arms. As I slowly opened my eyes, I saw you, looking up at me. Those eyes of yours, wide open, and sparkling, were again speaking to me when nothing else could. I knew what they were saying; once again, I smiled.

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