Constant Reminder
Sex had become a medium of submission for me, and to please him while in restraints had become my ideal setting for my own climax. When I felt him approaching orgasm, it drove me wild. I began to struggle against the bondage in spasms I could not control. Without being bound it would be so much more difficult, so much less intense. The restraints increased my sensitivity to him and to my own feelings. When he finally orgasmed, it triggered something inside me and my rational mind released to the feeling of ultimate pleasure.
My body relaxed all at once as the orgasm swept past me. Spasms in my thighs and legs which pressed and strained against the straps subsided and left me sagging in my restraints. Jason had spurt inside of me moments earlier, and had begun slowly sliding in and out, enjoying the feel of my body surrounding his cock.
When he finally released my arms and legs, they encircled him as he encircled me. We lay together, intertwined in sweat and the other smells of sex. He kissed me lovingly, setting off feelings of gratitude and love that made me remember that I would do anything for him, suffer anything for him.
Later that evening, he showed me a new toy he had obtained.
"It's a strapon..." I said, a little puzzled.
"Yes, in a way. But not exactly," he held the device in his hand and explained. "The dildo part on the strap is reversed. It goes inside you."
"Oh..." I wasn't sure how I felt about this. It seemed OK, it might even be pleasurable. If not, I had been subjected to much worse than this device.
Jason was sitting on the couch with the bundle of straps in his hands. I was kneeling naked before him, hands on my slightly spread knees. It is a position of subservience that I have come to take automatically when talking with my master.
"May I hold it? It seems more complicated and sturdier than other strapons I have seen." Yes, I had used strapons before. Both with men and women, though usually with women. This one really did look a little different. There were more straps than I was used to, and the connections where straps were sewn together were quite sturdy. Several buckles showed that it could be tightened on my body so that it would not slip. Strapons that slip are a pain.
"I would like you to put it on," Jason handed me the leather bundle. I stood, and straightened the straps out until I figured out how they should go around my body. I spread my legs slightly to accommodate the thick center strap which I slid between my thighs. Before pulling it up, I positioned the dildo at my pussy lips and then pushed. It slid in with easily (I still had some of Jason's fluid inside me and was wet).
As the reverse appendage sunk deep within me, I shuddered slightly, my nipples growing hard. Pressing the strap hard, I made sure it was all the way in, and then pulled the ends of the straps up. The center strap in the front connected to a waist strap. The back strap split in two, spreading to either side of my ass cheeks in a V.
"Turn around," Jason took the waist strap as I turned my back to him. He pulled up, making sure the strap between my legs was pulled taught, and then buckled the waist strap behind me. It felt quite tight, and I tried to adjust the waist strap a little for comfort. It moved very little.
"It's designed to stay on. I've placed a lock on the buckle, so you won't be taking it off anytime soon," Jason had a happy sound to his voice. I in turn grabbed the waist strap and pulled, yanked and adjusted. My left hand probed behind my back, and felt the buckle, and yes... the small padlock. Pushing the waist strap down didn't accomplish anything, my hips are significantly wider than my waist and the strapon was not going anywhere until he unlocked me.
I sighed, turned to face him (my legs spread slightly to accommodate the strap between them), and knelt in the submissive position. "As you please, sir."
He kissed me. I melted as I kissed him back, his hands roaming over my body.
"Let's head to bed," he said. We rose, and prepared for bed. He was brushing his teeth when I realized I needed to go to pee.
"Jason..." I looked at him and lowered my head slightly, my long hair falling on either side of my face. "Um... Jason, I need to pee. Can we remove this so I can go?"
Jason turned, wiped his mouth and kissed my forehead. "Siobhan, dear. You might as well get used to dealing with this. That strapon is not coming off for the next week."
I think I must have turned white as a ghost. A week? I was going to be wearing this ... thing in my pussy, locked in place, for a week?
"Jason, I am yours. You may do with me as you please. But... please... how am I supposed to live with this for a week? At work? Driving? I don't think I can pull it off!" I could hear the slight panic in my voice.
"Well, I certainly hope you can not pull it off. If you tried and were to succeed, there would be much more significant punishment in store for you. Don't worry. You can do it. The dildo is small and the leather supple, designed for long term wear. Peeing will be a problem, but you will figure it out. Now, go to the toilet and then clean yourself. Come to bed."
A tear rolled down my cheek. I tried to stifle my feeling of panic. Jason had never done this before - introduced a punishment or restraint that I had to wear during work. The closest I had come to this was my slave collar, which is permanently screwed in place around my neck, and made of a resilient steel. It serves as a necklace as well, with a beautiful diamond Jason gave me on our wedding day.
Peeing was awful. It sprayed inside the strap, leaking on both sides of it and dribbling down my thighs. Some got inside my pussy, or at least in the folds of my labia. When I was done, I tried to clean myself as well as I could with toilet paper, but the strap squeezed tightly against my flesh. It was virtually impossible to get underneath to wipe.
After some time, I managed to get mostly clean. It must have taken me 20 minutes, and I resorted to using one of Jason's handkerchiefs because toilet paper kept shredding into little pieces. I felt like taking a shower, but Jason was getting upset, demanding my presence in bed. I climbed between the sheets, and we drifted off to sleep, his arms around me.
Work the next day was the weirdest it had ever been. I work as a manager in an IT shop, supervising a number of employees in the network and server area, as well as coordinating and supporting a wide variety of development and deployment projects with other groups. I am professional in all I do, hard in demanding and setting requirements and goals, and a good negotiator. Some might call me a bitch, but my boss knows I get things done.
This time... I could think of nothing but the appendage between my legs. As I entered the building, I tried my best not to waddle. The dildo sticking up inside me moved and wriggled as I walked, creating the most bizarre sensation. The leather strap between my thighs forced my legs apart slightly at all time, and some sort of waddle was unavoidable.
I realized two things right away. First, I was going to walk as little as possible during the day. Second, I should never had worn a skirt. I couldn't effectively cross my legs as I sat, and my legs were forced apart slightly. I could not remember ever being that humiliated before.
Peeing remained a major problem. I could go, but the pee literally squirted from the sides of the strap onto my inner thighs. That was the easy part. I then had to clean myself, which took forever; I worried that people would wonder if I was all right and come find me in the restroom. I had a supply of handkerchiefs, and they helped a lot. Still, I had to wash myself afterward, which was dangerous as someone might come in to the ladies room at any moment.
A two o'clock meeting was a disaster. I sat at the table, my legs apart underneath. I knew that no one noticed this, but I still felt incredibly exposed; if anyone were to look under the table, they would see my legs spread and my panties covering some sort of leather object between my legs. Trying to concentrate on the topic of uninterruptable power supplies, I realized that I had been shifting in my seat, and that the movement was causing the dildo to slide in and out slightly; not to mention my clit being rubbed. People were looking at me a little oddly.
The final straw came when I realized my nipples were hard and protruding against my blouse. I flushed, and excused myself from the meeting, waddling out the door.
That night, I begged for relief.
"Jason, it's my job! You have no idea how humiliating it was. I can't hide it, people know something is wrong. It's distracting!"
"Siobhan, this is exactly what is supposed to be happening. This is an insistent reminder to you that you are mine. I own you. You are my property. You work because I allow you to work, because I desire it. If I desire that you hang by your wrists in the basement instead, then that's what would happen. You seem to have forgotten that recently. This is just a reminder. Now, take off your clothes, and fix me dinner."
I did as I was told.
The next day, things were a little better. I wore pants instead of a skirt, and my top was a heavier knit. I postponed or canceled meetings, and held more small meetings with people in my office, where my odd stance could be hidden beneath my desk.
Strangely, during times when I was lone in my office and things were quiet, I found myself concentrating on the sensations of being filled, impaled by this rubber thing that had situated itself inside me. I began doing Kegels, squeezing it and concentrating on its texture. It was actually a rather good imitation of an actual cock, and I began working on accepting it as part of my dress and body.
The third day I discovered there was just enough play in the strap that I could move it back and forth. This wriggled the dildo, as well as rubbing my pussy and clit. I sat in my office, legs spread wide under my desk, pushing the leather strap back and forth. My face grew flushed, my breathing faster, and suddenly a climax swelled and took me unexpectedly. I cried out with a short moan before stopping myself. But there was no doubt about it, I had just had an orgasm.
The fourth day I tried to remove it. In the restroom, in a stall, I shoved, prodded, pushed, pulled, wedged and stretched it as best I could. It was simply too tight around my waist, and effective chastity belt. The leather was wearing on my inner thighs, creating red welts which hurt. The waist strap was tight and restricted my breathing. It was OK most of the time, but I had to take the elevator now instead of going up stairs.
One of the cable guys asked me if I was doing OK. He noticed that I wasn't moving around much, and was looking unhappy.
The reverse strapon was beginning to hurt. It chaffed against the skin and the inside of my vagina was being rubbed raw. I moved less and less, but it still got worse. I stopped masturbating with it, as the movement irritated the raw skin.
Each night, I would kneel naked before Jason, legs spread, and ask that he remove the belt. In each case he lovingly and firmly refused.
Because my pussy was permanently filled, Jason took me from behind. He used plenty of lube, and the feeling of his entering my anus and filling me, rubbing the thin separator of flesh between his cock and the dildo, was extremely arousing. Yes, anal with Jason was painful, even with lube. But there was something wanton about it, something that brought me a pleasure I didn't experience any other way, and the reverse strapon just made that even more intense.
Laying on the bed on my side, one leg up and back over Jason, I felt him enter and penetrate. I pushed back against him, and his hand reached to the belt, pressing and moving it against me. A new kind of orgasm flushed through me, again and again, each night that he took me.
Saturday evening after dinner Jason called me over, and I knelt before him, knees spread and my hands on my knees. I bowed my head slightly. He placed his hand gently under my chin, and brought my face up to look him in the eyes.
"Do you continue to need a daily reminder of your ownership?" His voice was quiet.
I thought for a moment, knowing that answering automatically could get me in trouble later.
"No sir. I don't think so. At least... not right now. I know now that I had allowed my own desires to interfere with my devotion to you. I realize my work is simply an extension of my service to you, my master. However, I am yours, and if you feel that the reminder is required, then I submit." I bowed my head, a tear trickling down my cheek. I really, really wanted him to remove the chastity belt and get the dildo out of me. I was getting a yeast infection and the irritation was going to drive me insane. But... it had been a lesson. I was his slave and would submit.
"Stand, spread your legs," he said as he reached for the key. I did as I was told, and he unlocked the waist buckle. Slowly, painfully, the dildo slid out of me. I could tell the flesh of my vagina was dry and worn, and had been stretched wide. It would return to its former tightness, but not for a while.
Jason examined me. "You have some sores, but we will get some antibiotic cream and sooth it. You will be fine."
He stood and took me in his arms, kissing me deeply. When the kiss was over, I wrapped my arms around him and lay my head on his chest. "You are my master and my husband. I am your wife and slave. It is my honor and duty to suffer for you."
Sex had become a medium of submission for me, and to please him while in restraints had become my ideal setting for my own climax. When I felt him approaching orgasm, it drove me wild. I began to struggle against the bondage in spasms I could not control. Without being bound it would be so much more difficult, so much less intense. The restraints increased my sensitivity to him and to my own feelings. When he finally orgasmed, it triggered something inside me and my rational mind released to the feeling of ultimate pleasure.
My body relaxed all at once as the orgasm swept past me. Spasms in my thighs and legs which pressed and strained against the straps subsided and left me sagging in my restraints. Jason had spurt inside of me moments earlier, and had begun slowly sliding in and out, enjoying the feel of my body surrounding his cock.
When he finally released my arms and legs, they encircled him as he encircled me. We lay together, intertwined in sweat and the other smells of sex. He kissed me lovingly, setting off feelings of gratitude and love that made me remember that I would do anything for him, suffer anything for him.
Later that evening, he showed me a new toy he had obtained.
"It's a strapon..." I said, a little puzzled.
"Yes, in a way. But not exactly," he held the device in his hand and explained. "The dildo part on the strap is reversed. It goes inside you."
"Oh..." I wasn't sure how I felt about this. It seemed OK, it might even be pleasurable. If not, I had been subjected to much worse than this device.
Jason was sitting on the couch with the bundle of straps in his hands. I was kneeling naked before him, hands on my slightly spread knees. It is a position of subservience that I have come to take automatically when talking with my master.
"May I hold it? It seems more complicated and sturdier than other strapons I have seen." Yes, I had used strapons before. Both with men and women, though usually with women. This one really did look a little different. There were more straps than I was used to, and the connections where straps were sewn together were quite sturdy. Several buckles showed that it could be tightened on my body so that it would not slip. Strapons that slip are a pain.
"I would like you to put it on," Jason handed me the leather bundle. I stood, and straightened the straps out until I figured out how they should go around my body. I spread my legs slightly to accommodate the thick center strap which I slid between my thighs. Before pulling it up, I positioned the dildo at my pussy lips and then pushed. It slid in with easily (I still had some of Jason's fluid inside me and was wet).
As the reverse appendage sunk deep within me, I shuddered slightly, my nipples growing hard. Pressing the strap hard, I made sure it was all the way in, and then pulled the ends of the straps up. The center strap in the front connected to a waist strap. The back strap split in two, spreading to either side of my ass cheeks in a V.
"Turn around," Jason took the waist strap as I turned my back to him. He pulled up, making sure the strap between my legs was pulled taught, and then buckled the waist strap behind me. It felt quite tight, and I tried to adjust the waist strap a little for comfort. It moved very little.
"It's designed to stay on. I've placed a lock on the buckle, so you won't be taking it off anytime soon," Jason had a happy sound to his voice. I in turn grabbed the waist strap and pulled, yanked and adjusted. My left hand probed behind my back, and felt the buckle, and yes... the small padlock. Pushing the waist strap down didn't accomplish anything, my hips are significantly wider than my waist and the strapon was not going anywhere until he unlocked me.
I sighed, turned to face him (my legs spread slightly to accommodate the strap between them), and knelt in the submissive position. "As you please, sir."
He kissed me. I melted as I kissed him back, his hands roaming over my body.
"Let's head to bed," he said. We rose, and prepared for bed. He was brushing his teeth when I realized I needed to go to pee.
"Jason..." I looked at him and lowered my head slightly, my long hair falling on either side of my face. "Um... Jason, I need to pee. Can we remove this so I can go?"
Jason turned, wiped his mouth and kissed my forehead. "Siobhan, dear. You might as well get used to dealing with this. That strapon is not coming off for the next week."
I think I must have turned white as a ghost. A week? I was going to be wearing this ... thing in my pussy, locked in place, for a week?
"Jason, I am yours. You may do with me as you please. But... please... how am I supposed to live with this for a week? At work? Driving? I don't think I can pull it off!" I could hear the slight panic in my voice.
"Well, I certainly hope you can not pull it off. If you tried and were to succeed, there would be much more significant punishment in store for you. Don't worry. You can do it. The dildo is small and the leather supple, designed for long term wear. Peeing will be a problem, but you will figure it out. Now, go to the toilet and then clean yourself. Come to bed."
A tear rolled down my cheek. I tried to stifle my feeling of panic. Jason had never done this before - introduced a punishment or restraint that I had to wear during work. The closest I had come to this was my slave collar, which is permanently screwed in place around my neck, and made of a resilient steel. It serves as a necklace as well, with a beautiful diamond Jason gave me on our wedding day.
Peeing was awful. It sprayed inside the strap, leaking on both sides of it and dribbling down my thighs. Some got inside my pussy, or at least in the folds of my labia. When I was done, I tried to clean myself as well as I could with toilet paper, but the strap squeezed tightly against my flesh. It was virtually impossible to get underneath to wipe.
After some time, I managed to get mostly clean. It must have taken me 20 minutes, and I resorted to using one of Jason's handkerchiefs because toilet paper kept shredding into little pieces. I felt like taking a shower, but Jason was getting upset, demanding my presence in bed. I climbed between the sheets, and we drifted off to sleep, his arms around me.
Work the next day was the weirdest it had ever been. I work as a manager in an IT shop, supervising a number of employees in the network and server area, as well as coordinating and supporting a wide variety of development and deployment projects with other groups. I am professional in all I do, hard in demanding and setting requirements and goals, and a good negotiator. Some might call me a bitch, but my boss knows I get things done.
This time... I could think of nothing but the appendage between my legs. As I entered the building, I tried my best not to waddle. The dildo sticking up inside me moved and wriggled as I walked, creating the most bizarre sensation. The leather strap between my thighs forced my legs apart slightly at all time, and some sort of waddle was unavoidable.
I realized two things right away. First, I was going to walk as little as possible during the day. Second, I should never had worn a skirt. I couldn't effectively cross my legs as I sat, and my legs were forced apart slightly. I could not remember ever being that humiliated before.
Peeing remained a major problem. I could go, but the pee literally squirted from the sides of the strap onto my inner thighs. That was the easy part. I then had to clean myself, which took forever; I worried that people would wonder if I was all right and come find me in the restroom. I had a supply of handkerchiefs, and they helped a lot. Still, I had to wash myself afterward, which was dangerous as someone might come in to the ladies room at any moment.
A two o'clock meeting was a disaster. I sat at the table, my legs apart underneath. I knew that no one noticed this, but I still felt incredibly exposed; if anyone were to look under the table, they would see my legs spread and my panties covering some sort of leather object between my legs. Trying to concentrate on the topic of uninterruptable power supplies, I realized that I had been shifting in my seat, and that the movement was causing the dildo to slide in and out slightly; not to mention my clit being rubbed. People were looking at me a little oddly.
The final straw came when I realized my nipples were hard and protruding against my blouse. I flushed, and excused myself from the meeting, waddling out the door.
That night, I begged for relief.
"Jason, it's my job! You have no idea how humiliating it was. I can't hide it, people know something is wrong. It's distracting!"
"Siobhan, this is exactly what is supposed to be happening. This is an insistent reminder to you that you are mine. I own you. You are my property. You work because I allow you to work, because I desire it. If I desire that you hang by your wrists in the basement instead, then that's what would happen. You seem to have forgotten that recently. This is just a reminder. Now, take off your clothes, and fix me dinner."
I did as I was told.
The next day, things were a little better. I wore pants instead of a skirt, and my top was a heavier knit. I postponed or canceled meetings, and held more small meetings with people in my office, where my odd stance could be hidden beneath my desk.
Strangely, during times when I was lone in my office and things were quiet, I found myself concentrating on the sensations of being filled, impaled by this rubber thing that had situated itself inside me. I began doing Kegels, squeezing it and concentrating on its texture. It was actually a rather good imitation of an actual cock, and I began working on accepting it as part of my dress and body.
The third day I discovered there was just enough play in the strap that I could move it back and forth. This wriggled the dildo, as well as rubbing my pussy and clit. I sat in my office, legs spread wide under my desk, pushing the leather strap back and forth. My face grew flushed, my breathing faster, and suddenly a climax swelled and took me unexpectedly. I cried out with a short moan before stopping myself. But there was no doubt about it, I had just had an orgasm.
The fourth day I tried to remove it. In the restroom, in a stall, I shoved, prodded, pushed, pulled, wedged and stretched it as best I could. It was simply too tight around my waist, and effective chastity belt. The leather was wearing on my inner thighs, creating red welts which hurt. The waist strap was tight and restricted my breathing. It was OK most of the time, but I had to take the elevator now instead of going up stairs.
One of the cable guys asked me if I was doing OK. He noticed that I wasn't moving around much, and was looking unhappy.
The reverse strapon was beginning to hurt. It chaffed against the skin and the inside of my vagina was being rubbed raw. I moved less and less, but it still got worse. I stopped masturbating with it, as the movement irritated the raw skin.
Each night, I would kneel naked before Jason, legs spread, and ask that he remove the belt. In each case he lovingly and firmly refused.
Because my pussy was permanently filled, Jason took me from behind. He used plenty of lube, and the feeling of his entering my anus and filling me, rubbing the thin separator of flesh between his cock and the dildo, was extremely arousing. Yes, anal with Jason was painful, even with lube. But there was something wanton about it, something that brought me a pleasure I didn't experience any other way, and the reverse strapon just made that even more intense.
Laying on the bed on my side, one leg up and back over Jason, I felt him enter and penetrate. I pushed back against him, and his hand reached to the belt, pressing and moving it against me. A new kind of orgasm flushed through me, again and again, each night that he took me.
Saturday evening after dinner Jason called me over, and I knelt before him, knees spread and my hands on my knees. I bowed my head slightly. He placed his hand gently under my chin, and brought my face up to look him in the eyes.
"Do you continue to need a daily reminder of your ownership?" His voice was quiet.
I thought for a moment, knowing that answering automatically could get me in trouble later.
"No sir. I don't think so. At least... not right now. I know now that I had allowed my own desires to interfere with my devotion to you. I realize my work is simply an extension of my service to you, my master. However, I am yours, and if you feel that the reminder is required, then I submit." I bowed my head, a tear trickling down my cheek. I really, really wanted him to remove the chastity belt and get the dildo out of me. I was getting a yeast infection and the irritation was going to drive me insane. But... it had been a lesson. I was his slave and would submit.
"Stand, spread your legs," he said as he reached for the key. I did as I was told, and he unlocked the waist buckle. Slowly, painfully, the dildo slid out of me. I could tell the flesh of my vagina was dry and worn, and had been stretched wide. It would return to its former tightness, but not for a while.
Jason examined me. "You have some sores, but we will get some antibiotic cream and sooth it. You will be fine."
He stood and took me in his arms, kissing me deeply. When the kiss was over, I wrapped my arms around him and lay my head on his chest. "You are my master and my husband. I am your wife and slave. It is my honor and duty to suffer for you."