She told me it would be a special weekend and that I should not make any plans. It would be something I had always wanted but she wanted it to be a surprise. So I was looking forward to a special time when I came home on Friday afternoon. I had taken some time off so I could be home early. To my surprise she was not home waiting for me as I expected.
Instead there was a note taped to the door: “Hi Honey. There are your instructions. Follow them EXACTLY. Go in your room and take off all your clothes. Shave all the hair from your underarms, genitals and around your nipples. Take a complete enema, then put oil on all over and take a shower. Don’t bother putting anything on. Go to the kitchen and you’ll find your next instructions. Love, Me.”
I was already excited, and by the time I got to the bathroom I was getting an erection. If what I hoped was going to happen, this was going to be one great weekend! For weeks we had been discussing bondage fantasies and trying out different techniques. But I had never quite felt totally helpless or taken as far into the pain as I needed and wanted to go.
If this was going to be the fantasy I had requested, I would need to pace myself. I controlled my desire to masturbate and concentrated on preparing myself. I took three bags of water and squirted them out until the water was clean. Then I carefully shaved and showered as instructed. Since I didn’t need to get dressed I went directly into the kitchen.
Sure enough, I found another note: “So far so good. By now it’s probably around 3 o’clock. I won’t be home until 5. What I want you to do is this: go in the dungeon and you will find a scene set up. You are to place yourself in bondage by the time the clock chimes 3:30, using the equipment I have set out and then wait for me. Do not come, I have plans for you. Love you. Me.”
I had a glass of water and headed downstairs. I had played around with self-bondage for years. In fact, in our first sessions I basically tied myself up, and she just did the finishing touches. She knew exactly how I liked to be tied and how much I could take. I figured she would set up a scene that would take me beyond my limits as I had requested.
Sure enough there was another note on the dungeon door giving me detailed instructions on how to tie myself up. I took the note, forced myself not to read it yet, and went into the dungeon. From the looks of the equipment she had prepared, I was in for it. Great.
“1. Lock the dungeon door. If you left any other doors in the house open, go up and lock them first. Turn on the video that’s in the player.” I swung the heavy door closed and locked the deadbolt. Now once I was tied, only she could gain entrance to our secret room to release me. I started the cassette player and a compilation of my favorite bondage tapes started. I smiled. Plenty of inspiration.
“2. Put on the leather harness. Make sure it’s on tight.” I put my arms through the harness and locked the chains that fit so nicely around my chest, pushing up my nipples. Then I put the cock ring and waist straps on nice and tight. The pressure of the ring made me get hard. I looked at the note to see what she had in mind next.
“3. Put the spiked parachute on your balls and hang a 5-pound weight from it.” Ouch. I oiled up the parachute and gingerly wrapped it around my balls. The spikes dug into my flesh; the weight made it worse. She wanted me tortured, that’s for sure. Still, the stretching sensation on my balls felt good, and the penis bondage would give me some erotic relief during my ordeal.
“4. Enjoying yourself yet, my little torture slut? Good. Now be good and put on the cuffs and nipple clamps I set out.” How well she knew me. I wrapped my wrists with the tape we found at the athletic supply store, then slid them through the cuffs. She had put out my good old favorite all-metal nipple clamps. They were firm but comfortable. I wondered how comfortable they’d be in an hour or so.
“5. Sweetie, I just know you’re going to need a gag. Put it on the fourth hole and get used to it.” I opened wide and slipped the leather gag into my mouth. The fourth hole was just where it stopped being comfortable, and she knew it. Sadistic bitch! But the consequences of disobedience, well documented by the dungeon cam, could be severe. I just hate being whipped. I pulled the strap to the fourth hole and latched the buckle. Mmmpf. Mmrff! Oh well, something to bite on when the pain got bad.
“6. OK, now you’re ready for the final phase: at exactly 3:30, put the weights on your nipple clamps, and suspend yourself from the spreader bar at exactly the height I have set it. Kick the stepladder out of the way; you won’t need it. Put your feet through the loops in the ankle ropes and pull them until they’re tight. I will release you when I get home at 5. Have fun! Love, Me.”
I looked at the clock: 3:27. Time to start. The nipple weights were loaded with a couple of one-pound fishing sinkers on a thin rope through a pulley on the rafter. On the other end was a spring clamp, which I pulled down and attached to the chain of my nipple clamps. When I let go, the weight pulled the clamps up toward the ceiling, hard enough to stretch my nipples but not quite hard enough to pull the clamps off.
Now I was getting really turned on, but I still had to complete the final instruction. I carefully backed up to the second step of the ladder. The parachute stretched my balls as the heavy weight swung back and forth. A 3-foot spreader bar hung from the chain hoist. I got hold of the left end and clipped my suspension cuff to the end of the bar. I stretched out and fastened my right cuff the other end. The final clicks of the spring clips just before a severe suspension are some of the most exciting and erotic sounds there are.
Now for the moment of truth. I carefully stepped down off the ladder to test the suspension. With my feet together my heels just touched. Uh-oh, this was going to be severe. I had told her I wanted to be taken beyond my limits, but was I ready for this? I really wanted to find out what was there, the truth buried deep in the pain. I knew I could trust her to show up and let me loose. We had played this game before. OK.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed the ladder back and out of the way. It fell over with a crash. I was committed. I was trapped. I got a raging hard-on. I tested my bonds. They were very secure. I had built them myself, and I knew well how strong they were. This is it. Might as well go all the way.
I looked for the posts on either side of me and located the ankle ropes. They were loops of thick rope tied with a slipknot. I wiggled my right ankle through the loop and tested it. The knot slid just a little. I judged I would be standing on tiptoes for the next 90 minutes. How long would I last before I had to hang completely from my wrists? What would happen then? I didn’t know but I wanted to find out.
I pulled the ankle rope tight. Then I stood up on my right toe while I found the other loop with my left foot. Careful, careful…there. I pulled in as far as possible.
The mirror on the opposite wall revealed my situation. There I was, naked and shaved, gagged and bound in tight leather straps, my wrists and ankles both trapped a yard apart. I was standing on my toes with my nipples and balls tortured. And no prospect of rescue for an hour and a half. I had a pang of remorse and fear. What if I couldn’t take it? Then I took a deep breath and relaxed. Worrying wouldn’t help anything now.
The physiology of suspension bondage is interesting. The stretching puts pressure on all the erotic points, giving the victim an involuntary erection, especially if the nipples are stimulated and the genitals are bound. At the same time, a process of circulatory stagnation begins from the wrists and hands, and gradually works its way up the arms toward the shoulders. An exquisite pain that goes deep into the bones accompanies the gradual progress of the numbness.
Was I crazy to be enjoying this? Yet curiously I found myself delighted at my situation, and extremely turned on at the prospect of such severe and prolonged torture. I couldn’t rub my hard cock on anything or achieve a release. Yet what I felt was the height of erotic pleasure. I felt very thankful to have such an understanding and cooperative partner, and I knew I would enjoy every second of my severe bondage and erotic torture until she came to relieve me.
If the entire weight of the body is suspended from the wrists, sooner or later the pressure on the shoulders reduces the blood supply to the brain, resulting in unconsciousness. In the Roman days, crucifixion used this to terminal effect. However, if the victim is bound so he can reduce the weight on his wrists, the spread of the numbness is slowed and the agony can be prolonged indefinitely.
That was my situation. Bound as I was, I could relieve some of the pressure on my wrists enough to avoid suffocation. But to do it, I would have to struggle. I stood on my tiptoes and stretched, but I could barely move. After awhile I knew the muscles in my ankles would give out, and all my weight would be on my wrists and shoulders. I pulled myself up as far as I could, my feet leaving the ground. I could only maintain that for a few seconds, but it was a relief.
I relaxed, and let myself just hang. It was only 3:35. My wrists hurt but I knew this was only the beginning. I knew some of what was ahead, but not all. I tried to wait and not use up my energy too quickly. Time crawled by. One part of my mind wanted the pain to stop, while another, more powerful part just wanted it to go on and on forever.
The real effect of slow sexual torture comes with time. The sensations are intense at first, then one becomes kind of used to them. My bondage felt good after 15 minutes or so, but I knew it wouldn’t last. I was only used to the first level of pain. The pain would reappear at a deeper level, and stay longer. I waited.
The pain came in slow waves. Each wave lasted five minutes or more. Then I would get used to that level of pain and it wouldn’t be so bad for a while. Then another long wave of pain burned deeper into my body, each one worse than the last. I looked at the clock: 4:05. How could I stand any more of this? I twisted my chest and moved my hips, pulling on my nipple clamps and swinging the weights hanging from my scrotum to give myself some erotic sensation, but it didn’t help much.
The pain was working its way down my arms under the numbness that spread from my wrists to my elbows. I raised myself up off the floor, letting my wrists take all the weight for a few moments. Then I let myself back down onto my tiptoes. My ankles wouldn’t last much longer. At least my wrists were completely numb.
At some point I started moaning. The pain was working its way deeper and deeper into my body. I could barely move but my body was twisting and writhing to try to get away from the pain. It was an automatic response; I couldn’t help myself. None of it worked but the sensation of struggling kind of distracted me from the pain.
4:30. I had never been in suspension more than half an hour. This was much more than I had ever been able to take. Being alone in the dungeon made a real difference; I was unable to plead, unable to convince her to let me go. There was no choice. I had to take it no matter how bad it got.
I was in a state of total surrender to the pain. It was involuntary. I couldn’t escape and I couldn’t stop it. I looked forward to her coming but didn’t want her to see me this way. At the same time, I wanted her to love me for being like this: her helpless torture slave.
I was moaning so loud I didn’t even hear her come into the room. Suddenly she was there. Naked and beautiful. I wanted her so much. “I’ve been watching you on the dungeon cam. I like watching you struggle. I want to watch you close up. And do things to you while you’re so helpless.”
She came close to me and looked me in the eyes. “You’re mine now, and I won’t let you go.” Her hands moved over my body, arousing me despite the desperate pain I was in. “I like you like this,” she purred. “I’m going to keep you like this all weekend. I’ve been keeping a file of the pictures you gave me and your fantasies. Now every one is going to come true. And you won’t be able to do anything about it.”
She straddled my leg and rubbed her pussy on my thigh. She caressed my cock, which was still rock-hard but had surprisingly little feeling. Then she twisted and pulled my nipple clamps, and I gasped. The pain was unbelievable. She pulled harder and I heard someone screaming. I guess it was me. I was breathing hard. I loved it.
She backed away from me, watching while I struggled not to break contact with her body and failed. I moaned. “You can struggle and moan all you want,” she said, waving her hands as she settled into the comfortable armchair a few feet away. “I’m not going to let you go. You might as well get used to the pain because it’s here to stay. I’m going to watch you suffer…and enjoy myself,” she sighed, leaning back languorously.
Her hands stroked her already-wet pussy as she kept her eyes fixed on me. “Mmmmm. Now I see why you wanted this. The writhing is so sensual. Your body is so beautiful when you struggle against the pain. Are you beyond your limits? Is it too much for you to bear? Good. That’s just the way I want you.
Seeing her so close, so hot while I was restrained and tortured made me want her. I writhed anew with pain and desire. We locked eyes as she brought herself again and again to the edge of an orgasm, and then stopped just short of the brink. The room was full of our moans and sighs of passion and pain.
Suddenly the clock chimed. She sighed, and slowly, reluctantly got up from her comfortable perch. “Time to release you, my dear. At least, from this position. But there’s more. So much more I’m going to do to you. Now I understand about taking you past your limits. It’s like learning to swim, isn’t it? Getting past your limits is the hard part. Once you’re there, you have to cope somehow or other. And it’s very sexy.”
Slowly she released the weights on my nipple clamps. Every movement was torture. Then she removed the weight from the ball parachute and untied my ankles. I just hung there, totally helpless as she tied my ankles together and chained them to the wall behind me. Then came the creak and rattle of the chain hoist as she carefully lowered me facedown on the mat. My arms were useless. They felt like they were on fire as the circulation and feeling returned. She bound them behind me, Japanese style with the wrists tied tightly to the opposite elbows.
Working quicker now, she put a thick leather collar around my neck and padlocked it in place. Then she clipped a chain to the collar and fastened it to a ring on the floor. I was captured again. She rolled me over on my side and carefully removed the clamps from my nipples. They were pinched and blue, and she rubbed and squeezed them to get the circulation going again. I moaned with the pain.
“It’s not over, baby,” she whispered into my ear as she buckled a padded leather blindfold over my eyes. “This is just a short rest period. You get 15 minutes to relax before we start the next torture. And this is how it’s going to be. All weekend long. You asked for it, honey. Now you got it. I hope you’re enjoying yourself because I sure am. Ta-ta!”
I heard the light switch click and the slam of the dungeon’s heavy door. After the snick of the deadbolt, all was silent except for the ticking of the big clock. The next time it chimed, the pain would start again. I moaned into my gag and cried as I rolled back and forth on my erect penis.
I’m so lucky.
Originally posted 2016-09-10 06:01:15.