The consequences of self-imposed bondage

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-11 17:24:38

Today is my day off—one of those days when some people rest while others still work. It's July 4th, a Sunday. Sunday malls are always crowded, so I decided to do something for myself and relax. For some reason, I got up early and finished my errands by noon. Driving home, I suddenly remembered the cleaning staff were coming today, and I bet they wouldn't make a mess.
A brilliant idea struck me: I could use the cleaning staff (they don't like being called maids) as a safety device for my self-imposed restraints. I sometimes use ice, but I never have the courage to prepare a large enough block, so I always manage to untie myself after just an hour. With the cleaning staff, if I panic or want to be freed early, I can go to the living room to get the key I've left there. I have a slight claustrophobia, so I always get a little scared when I'm tied up for too long. As long as the cleaning staff gets to my room, even if something unexpected happens, I'll be free, at most enduring some humiliation.
They wouldn't be back to my apartment for about an hour, so I left the key on the floor next to my desk, covered it with some paper, and took a shower. After drying myself off, I took out some tools I would need: a dildo, an anal plug, some thick leather belts, a chastity belt, leather handcuffs, an inflatable gag, a posture collar,
a dog leash, and several nipple clamps. I had wanted to dress up a bit, but there wasn't enough time.
Just thinking about what was going to happen made me a little wet. I inserted the dildo into my vagina and lubricated the anal plug. Inserting them was already a little nerve-wracking, but locking the belt seemed to amplify the feeling tenfold! I slowly inserted the lubricated anal plug (although it wasn't my first time, it didn't mean it would be easy to get in). After feeling no discomfort, I put on the chastity belt and locked it. All the keys to the small locks were on my dressing table, out of reach of them once I put on the handcuffs. Before I could regret it, I quickly put on the posture collar, nipple clamps, and gag. The thin thread between the nipple clamps threaded through a loop in the posture collar, increasing the pulling sensation on my nipples as I struggled. This slight pain only reminded me of how helpless I was becoming and urged me to continue.
The gag I used was quite unusual: a wide strap completely covering my mouth, tied behind my head, with an inflatable balloon secured inside. After inflation, the valve was closed to prevent leaks, creating the tightest possible restraint.
Finally, I put on a dog collar (which I surprisingly found at the nearest supermarket) and fastened a nylon dog leash. The leash was unusual because I placed it behind my back, threaded it through a D-ring on the chastity belt, and let it hang down. I sewed a small loop to the end of the leash so I could pull it down and lock it to the chastity belt later. The result of this was that the leash pulled my head and neck backward, and because the nipple clamps were tied around my neck with thin thread, my nipples were also pulled. This prevented me from walking forward continuously, as if I were tied to a pillar, except that I could still move.
Before locking the leash to the chastity belt, there was one more thing to do. I picked up some prepared leather straps and
fastened them at my knees. There was still some space between my legs, enough to walk slowly. I adjusted the straps, tightening them so that the buckles were positioned precisely on either side of my thighs; otherwise, the buckles against my thighs would be torture while crawling.
Although somewhat impatient, I completed my binding step by step. I used rope to tie the anal plug and the control switch of the electric dildo to the front strap of the chastity belt, so that I would never touch them after putting on the handcuffs. I wanted to turn the switches on now, but it wasn't the right time. Next, I inflated the gag. These gags always shrink a little after a while, so I slightly over-inflated it, closed the valve, and removed the inflation device.
I pulled the dog back with all my might, finally locking it to the chastity belt. Now I certainly looked like something to see: my body arched backward, my full breasts pulled up by my nipples. I closed my eyes, imagining myself, and finally reached forward to turn on the electric dildo and anal plug. I could already feel my first orgasm approaching, so I quickly reached behind me and found the leather handcuffs on the chastity belt, locking my hands firmly. I leaned back, fell onto the bed, and writhed with all my might, enjoying my first orgasm.
Just as I was about to reach orgasm, both electric vibrators stopped. I tried to writh, but it was no use; I needed those two things to reach orgasm! When I opened my eyes, the cleaning lady was looking at me with a strange expression, which I think was a silent laugh. I froze, unsure what to do. I knew I couldn't escape, but staying here was clearly not an option. My mind raced. What was going on? Suddenly, I remembered I'd forgotten to close the door, and the cleaners' job was to clean rooms with open doors. But why hadn't I heard her come in? I was filled with questions, but my immediate concern was, what would happen to me?
"Looks like you're in big trouble. I was puzzled when I found the handcuff key and dog collar on the floor, since you don't own a dog. I must admit, you surprised me. I would have assumed someone had done this to you, but I happened to be standing in the doorway when you put on the gag and handcuffs. It's obvious what the controls on your straps are for, so I turned them off to get your attention." She wore an enigmatic smile that made me worry about my situation.
I was still shaken. All I knew about this woman was that she worked for a cleaning company, that I'd hired her, and that she did a good job—that was all. Her name seemed to be Linda, but I wasn't sure because I'd only seen the name on the service menu and had never met her in person. Maybe I could get her to let me go and remove this damn gag.
"Mmm..." I tried to scream, but only managed a few groans. No matter how frantically I shook my head, the gag remained firmly in place.
"I think I should help you out of this predicament," she said, giving me a glimmer of hope. With that, she unsealed the valve on my gag and removed the balloon gag from the center hole. Although my mouth was still covered, I finally had the freedom to speak, but for a moment I didn't know what to say.
"Where's the key to your handcuffs? I'll unlock them for you," she asked.
"In my living room, on the floor, under a pile of papers," I said. She went to the living room to get my key, leaving me there alone, and I began to replay everything that had just happened in my mind. I was so humiliated, my face was burning red. I calmed down and regained some of my composure. All I wanted to do now was find a place to hide, desperately hoping my cleaner would return the key, close the door, and leave.
She returned with the key, and I struggled to sit up, waiting for her to give it back. A minute passed, and I couldn't hold on any longer and collapsed back down, looking at her helplessly. "Please give me back my key," I said.
"I'm slowly figuring out your whole plan. You intend to remain tied up and gagged while I'm cleaning, and because you're afraid of being discovered, you have to wait until I'm finished and leave before you can get your key. Personally, I don't want to ruin anyone's expectations, so I'll help you carry out your plan. The only problem now is that I know your little trick, so getting the key from the living room is no longer a challenge for you, is it? To add a little challenge, the key will be in your mailbox, and I'll put it in there now with your key." She said this and left.
A few minutes later, I heard her return and start rummaging through my kitchen drawers one by one. I was still terrified, hoping this hadn't actually happened. The thought of what was going to happen to me made me so scared that I almost lost my mind. Just then, she walked into the bedroom, holding something that looked like a marker and pliers.
“Stay still and don’t move. If you don’t cooperate, I’ll lock you up here, and you’ll never be free!” She said this, and I had no choice but to obey, remaining motionless except for breathing. I could feel her writing something on the skin beneath my breasts, but because the collar was on my back with a dog leash, my head was forced back, so I couldn’t see anything. I could only guess what she wrote, but I believed it wasn’t anything nice. After writing, she picked up the inflation plug and looked at me.
“I’m putting this back now, and I hope you won’t refuse. Otherwise, I’ll find a way to gag you and tie you to the radiator pipe. How long do you think you can last before someone finds out? And if someone finds out, our little secret will be exposed.”
“I have one more question, no, two,” I pleaded.
"What?"
"My legs are tied, I can't get to my mailbox. Could you at least untie them? What's your name? Are you Linda?"
"I should probably feel honored that you remembered my name in your busy schedule, but unfortunately, I'm not Linda. As for your legs, I'm sure you'll figure something out yourself. You can't even reach the doorknob right now, and I don't want to be in your position, but you're a smart girl, and I'm sure you'll find a way."
Before I could make a sound, the gag was shoved back into my mouth, filled to the brim, almost to the point where I couldn't breathe. She then tightened the screw with pliers, so the air in the gag couldn't escape. Linda left the room and closed the door. I could only lie down, trying to catch my breath, trying to calm myself down, and thinking about what to do.
Listening to the rustling sound of Linda cleaning the apartment, I knew I had been defeated by my self-imposed bondage. I'm always good at this, making myself completely immobile. With great difficulty, I slowly moved off the bed, only to find that I didn't land on the floor. My head and hips were simultaneously pulled backward, and I immediately understood what was happening: my dog leash was hooked to the bedpost, causing me to dangle in mid-air and be even more tightly bound. The pressure on my neck was immense, making even breathing extremely difficult.
The suffocation terrified me. Fortunately, my knees were now close to the ground. I struggled to push my knees to the floor, allowing my neck to relax a little and breathe. Another major problem was that I couldn't escape this situation; lifting myself back onto the bed was now impossible. Soon
Linda returned. "Well, well… this is a bit of a hassle." She came over and tried to lift me back onto the bed, but couldn't. Glancing at the lock on the leash, she asked, "Where's the key?" I couldn't speak, but a glance at the dressing table on the other side of the room was enough for her to understand.
Linda untied the leash, and one end of the loop snapped free, whipping against me as I fell. It felt so much better to bend forward. I tried to sit up, but Linda shoved me to the ground. She untied my legs, allowing me to slowly stretch them out.
"Now that your legs are off, it should be easier to get your keys, right? I'm praying no one finds you, otherwise only God knows what they might do to you. I'll be back next week, hoping to see you again, because I think I'm starting to enjoy this game," she said with a smile. Before leaving, she fastened my keys to my chastity belt and gag with a small buckle. It felt really strange to me; I knew they were there, but I couldn't reach them, but at least I knew where they were. I watched her walk out of the apartment, through the front door, and lock it. I wished she would turn on the vibrator to kill some time, but at least I'd be free soon.
"Soon" might not be entirely accurate, because it was still afternoon, and people were still walking around. In fact, it wouldn't be free until 2 a.m., after everyone who went to the bars and nightclubs had returned. So I was going to be imprisoned for more than eight hours in my own room! "Ugh..." I could only moan into the gag.
First, I needed to get the vibrator moving. The switch was a dial, and since I couldn't reach it, maybe I could rub it with something to turn it on. Without the help of my hands, I struggled to my feet and started looking for a useful tool.
I quickly discovered that the edge of the kitchen table should be enough. The table was a little low, so I had to half-squat down and rub the dial with the edge. After two failed attempts due to my weak legs, I finally succeeded on the third try. I first turned on the vibrator in my anus. It felt wonderful, but it also gave me a sense of frustration, making it hard to concentrate. After a few more tries, I finally turned on the vibrator, and on the highest setting. It was really difficult to do this with my anus already buzzing, and the thing in my vagina was immediately pushing me to the brink of collapse.
I ran back to the bedroom, jumped onto the bed, and soon experienced my first orgasm on my own bed. Waves of extreme pleasure washed over me, suspending me in my own little world. After a while, I thought several hours had passed, but when I checked the time, only an hour had gone by. This was a bit of a problem, because I seemed unable to achieve another orgasm. The vibrator was still vibrating, but the vibration was getting weaker and weaker; the battery was probably running out. I needed new stimulation to get through the next long seven hours.
Watching TV was somewhat interesting, especially with the vibrator still rhythmically vibrating inside me. After a few hours, they finally stopped, and the boring drama became slightly more interesting. I unknowingly fell asleep on the recliner. I
don't know how long I slept, but I woke up with a start. Sleep had made me forget I was tied up, so I was startled when I realized I couldn't move. Slowly regaining my memory, remembering what had just happened, I sat on the recliner, frozen in place. Tied up like this, I couldn't even stretch my body. I stood up, glanced at the time—it was already two in the morning. It was time to start thinking of a way to escape this situation.
I grabbed the room and mailbox keys, tucked them into the belt strapped to my lower back so I wouldn't have to carry them around. I went to the door, turned my back, and slowly opened it, cautiously peering outside. The hallway was empty; the only sound was my own breathing. Mustering my courage, I bravely rushed out, though it felt strange not being able to use my hands for balance. Luckily, I was barefoot, so my footsteps were silent. I ran to the corner, hiding in a spot out of sight of the hallway, peering down the stairwell. Thankfully, the usual smoking area was deserted, so I started descending the stairs. Nothing
happened during my descent except for the metal ring on my leash clicking on the floor. I held it in my hand and continued down. At the top of the stairs, I could see my mailbox. I checked one last time to make sure no one was around, then went to it, took the key from my belt, and opened it. When I opened the mailbox, there was only a note inside. I pulled it out, let it fall to the ground, and read it with unease.
"My dear slave, your key isn't here; it's still in its original place, under that pile of papers. If you've read this note, it only proves you're not smart enough. Enjoy your journey home."
Damn it, that bitch! I wanted to curse, but I was afraid the curse would turn into a muffled whimper and be heard. Just as I was feeling frustrated, I heard someone approaching outside. I quickly crouched down, picked up the note, and stuffed it and the mailbox key back into my leash. I grabbed the leash and started climbing the stairs, listening intently. I figured it might be a couple coming in. When I reached the third floor, they were already starting to come up the stairs. Oh God! What if they come up to the third floor and I can't get back to my apartment in time?! I ran down the corridor, feeling like a criminal escaping the police. Halfway up, I turned back to see if the couple had come up yet.
When I turned around, a man was standing right in front of me, and I ran right into his arms. We both lost our balance and fell to the ground. I think I must have fallen harder, because at least he could brace himself with his hands. I tried to get up, but it was difficult without his hands. Just then, I felt my dog leash tighten, pulling me up. The man I had bumped into was gripping my leash. I felt incredibly ashamed and turned my back to avoid his gaze, but he easily twisted my arms, leaving me completely naked in front of him.
"Hmm... what's written on you? 'I am a slave and do not wish to be free before morning. If you find me, please do not release me.' No problem, I can definitely help you. Come in with me." He said, pulling me into his apartment. I tried to resist, but he held my leash tightly and was much stronger than me, so I had no chance. I was pulled into his room and sat in a chair, feeling him tie my leash to the back of the chair. I pulled forward, but couldn't budge it at all.
Tears streamed down my face. I almost escaped. Why is Linda being so cruel to me? I was so close… I don't recognize the man in front of me. Judging from his room, he's probably single. I just hope he'll release me in the morning, as Linda wrote, but I don't even know if I can hold out until then…
“Is your name Amy?” he asked. I just nodded.
“It's my habit to ask about the names of the pretty women living in the same building. We can talk about that another day. Right now, I'm in control, and you're my slave, you understand?”
I just looked at him, knowing he was right, knowing I couldn't change anything. Before I realized that, he came over and covered my nose with the fingers of one hand, while his other arm held my head firmly in place. I couldn't breathe, struggling desperately to escape, or at least to breathe a little air through the struggle, but it was useless; I couldn't move at all.
“You'd better stop struggling now and answer my questions honestly. How about that?”
I don't remember how I answered, but I made a gesture of obedience. Although I didn't pass out, everything was starting to go black. After a few minutes of this dizziness, he pulled me up and dragged me into his bedroom. He threw me onto the bed, and when he saw me struggling, he pressed me down. My first thought was that he wanted to rape me, but then I remembered I was wearing a chastity belt. He pulled and tugged at my chastity belt, which gave me a small sense of victory; I knew I wouldn't be forced to accept his penis. I just didn't want him to find my room key and that note.
"Looks like you're playing a little game of hide-and-seek. Sorry to interrupt you. I'll go get your key. Stay here and behave yourself," he chuckled. Before leaving the room, he tied my leash to the bedpost, somewhere I definitely couldn't reach. I watched him leave the bedroom and walk out of the apartment, then quickly tried to untie myself. After struggling for a while, I finally sat up, but I couldn't reach the knot on the leash at all. So I stayed there, tied up by myself, in a stranger's house as his prisoner. I don't know how to describe my feelings, but there was definitely anger in them. I was angry at myself for carelessly not locking the door properly, and furious that Linda had gotten me into this mess.
Before I could think for long, the man returned, carrying the box containing my bondage equipment in one hand and the key to my handcuffs in the other. I watched him open my box, take out several BDSM magazines, and quickly flip through them, as if searching for something.
"Hmm, I quite like this one," he said. The stranger stopped on a certain page; I couldn't see the picture he "liked," but I knew that the book usually featured rope bondage—very tight, secure bindings that deformed the body.
He took all the ropes out of my box, spread them out, and picked out a long rope, walking over to me. “By the way, my name is Robert. You already know where I live, so I don’t need to hide anything from you anymore. I want you to call me master, but I don’t intend to make you say too much. I’m going to untie you and tie you up like the woman in the picture. You’ll cooperate, right?”
Robert untied my dog leash, removed it from my muzzle, and threw it on the ground. Then he made me lie face down on the bed and wrapped rope around my elbows. I had never done anything like this before and didn’t know what would happen. After a few pulls, my elbows were very close together. He wrapped the remaining rope around my elbows, tightened it, and tied a knot, binding my elbows tightly together and making sure the rope wouldn’t come undone.
After securing my elbows, he removed my handcuffs and immediately tied my wrists with rope in the same way. I didn’t know if my situation was getting better or worse, but I at least felt that being tied up like this wasn’t so bad. My feelings had changed somewhat since he dragged me in. In a way, I had fantasized about this happening, though I'd never actually experienced it. Trust wasn't an issue, because I hadn't chosen this man; I didn't even have the right to choose.
He patted my buttocks and found the key to the chastity belt in my belt. God! I couldn't believe it. My only sense of security had been so easily destroyed; I was terrified. He patted my bare buttocks again, untied the chastity belt, and for the first time, completely exposed my genitals and anus to him. I collapsed there helplessly, waiting for him to pull out his large member and rape me. Robert didn't do that. Instead, he ran his hand along my labia, looped a double-stranded rope around the middle, wrapped one end around my waist and tied it below my navel, then looped it between my legs, pressing down on the vibrator still inside my vagina and anus, and tied it to the rope on my wrists behind my back, pulling it tight. So, if I pulled the ropes, the two vibrators would be compressed and penetrate deeper into my body. This tight restraint was already arousing me; I wasn't even aware that I was struggling and writhing, constantly pulling at the ropes.
"I'm glad you like it, but my work isn't finished yet. I'm going to turn you into the woman in the picture—Punished Cindy, you can remember the name of this picture." Robert's words pulled me back to reality. I remembered that picture. Good heavens, was he really going to do that to me? In that position, I probably wouldn't even last twenty minutes, but the magazine said, "Just let her spend the night like that!" The worst was yet to come. He took out some more ropes and started bending my knees, pressing my ankles and thighs together. My collar and nipple clamps were removed, but the gag was too tight, causing him trouble. He found pliers and unscrewed the gag, letting the air out. Just as I was about to stretch my jaw, which had been bound for so long, an even larger rubber ball gag was shoved in. I often saw other women being gagged like that, but I didn't like being like that myself. I could only console myself by saying it was because Robert liked it.
The part I feared finally arrived; he began braiding my hair. I desperately hoped he would braid my hair and the rope together, which would lessen the pain, but he only braided the ends and tied them with a belt. Since I couldn't see what happened next, I can only describe it through my imagination. Every few moments, I felt a pull on my hair, and something was sewn onto it. After a few minutes, something was attached to my hair and couldn't be separated. Robert threaded the rope, still attached to my hair, through the nooses around my elbows and ankles and pulled hard. A wave of immense pain and discomfort washed over me. My whole body arched backward, my elbows pulled upward, my head tilted back as far as possible, and my ankles pulled upward to their limit, causing my entire weight to fall onto my breasts and abdomen. It didn't stop there. Just when I finally managed to adjust to a more comfortable position, he pulled the rope even tighter! This went on for about five minutes, until I was completely unable to move, not even a millimeter of space left. By then, I was having some difficulty breathing, but thankfully I was lying face down on the bed, so my chest wasn't under too much pressure.
“There’s another surprise, I hope you like it,” he said mischievously. I couldn’t see what he was doing, only hear some equipment moving and making noise around me, then silence. I thought an hour had passed, but only twenty minutes later, I felt myself being lifted up and pulled into the air. This was completely unexpected; I was placed on a high dressing table, with only my breasts hanging out. I tried to adjust my position but couldn’t. Before I could even find my balance, some weight was added to my buttocks to keep me balanced and prevent me from falling forward. Next, I felt pain in my nipples, probably some kind of Japanese nipple clamp, which can hold for longer and is less likely to slip off. There seemed to be some weight added below the nipple clamps, but I couldn’t see it.
“Enjoy it. But don’t struggle too much; in your current state, falling from a height of six feet might kill you. I’m going to sleep now, goodnight.” He chuckled, fumbling for something beside him. The electric vibrator suddenly started moving, sending a spasm through my body, and I realized what he had done. Robert finally turned off the light and went to bed, leaving me alone on the dressing table, trapped in an abyss of pain and pleasure.
I tried to breathe as hard as I could, resisting the pleasure, because I didn't want to fall off the dressing table. Suddenly, the nipple clamps were pulled very hard; perhaps a cat had passed by, mistaking the thing hanging from the clamps for a toy, and was trying to take it. The immense pain made me scream, but it didn't change anything. I couldn't bear it; my whole body stiffened, thankfully I didn't move too much and fall. In the midst of the immense pain, I experienced an intense orgasm I had never felt before. By then, the night was almost over; the alarm clock in the corner showed 3:30 AM.
Even if that man really released me in the morning, I might not be able to go to work: I had endured more than 12 hours of severe bondage, and I didn't know how much longer I had to endure it. As time went on, my physical condition became increasingly worse.
Time ticked by, wave after wave of orgasms washing over me. Sometimes intense, sometimes mild, but each was enough to make me helplessly wriggle my nipples and the suspension on them. Time seemed to stand still, the subtle pain mingling with the faint pleasure, relentlessly tormenting me. An hour was enough for me to feel like I was about to die. My willpower wasn't strong enough to endure this torment; I even considered jumping, or hoping to fall off the dressing table and pass out—just to survive. But then I realized that falling might cause even greater pain, so I gave up. I tried to make some noise with all my might, something that might not carry far, but at least the people in the room could hear. Of course, Robert couldn't hear me; he was lying there, fast asleep.
Two hours passed, and the electric vibrator still hadn't stopped; it seemed Robert had replaced the batteries with higher-powered ones. On the other hand, the cat had finally stopped pulling on my nipple clamps, which was a relief. So, what was my current situation? I was sweating buckets, so I was already dehydrated; my hair was definitely dirty and messy. I tried telling myself jokes to keep myself awake, but they didn't seem to work.
I don't know when I passed out. I meant to say I was asleep, but I don't usually fall asleep with my eyes open… Suddenly I was thrown onto the bed, bounced a few times, and immediately woke up.
“Did you sleep well, darling? I slept well. Actually, I was excited thinking about you most of the night, but that's another story. Maybe someday you'll not only tie yourself up, but also want to do something else. Now I have to go to work, and I'm afraid you will too. According to the writing on your body, I'm letting you go now,” Robert said.
I heard him tidy up the room and leave for a while. When he came back, he put me in a large duffel bag (the kind soldiers use for their clothes). I thought about resisting, but I wanted him to release me quickly, and I was also afraid of further punishment, so I gave up.
“I’ll take you back to your room and give you a knife. Hopefully, you can cut the ropes yourself. Here’s my phone number. Let me know if you succeed, otherwise I’ll release you when I get back. I have to go to work now.” Robert spoke to me from outside the pocket. Although I couldn’t hear him clearly, I understood what he meant.
When we got to my apartment, he dumped me out of the pocket and threw me on the floor. He knelt down, kissed the gag in my mouth, and left the room. If I hadn’t endured so much pain, I might even have felt a little comforted at this moment.
I crawled on the floor and finally found a knife. It was rather dull, probably to delay my release and prevent me from cutting myself. After at least five minutes of struggling, I finally cut the ropes connecting my head and ankles, and I sprang to the other side like rubber. It felt amazing to be able to bend forward. My stiff muscles had already begun to protest, but that would have to wait.
Next, I cut the ropes connecting my arms and hips. Cutting the ropes off my wrists took quite a while, as I had to cut several layers of fibroids. After finally succeeding, I suddenly realized that even with my wrists free, I still couldn't remove the two vibrators because the ropes on my elbows were still tied.
I was so close to being free! Thinking it over, I finally figured out how to cut the ropes on my elbows. When people can't reach high branches, they tie a saw to a stick and use it to saw the branches. I could use that method too, but I'd need to free my legs. I couldn't reach the ropes on my knees, but I could reach the ropes on my ankles. I cut the ropes on my ankles and leaned against the recliner to stand up.
I staggered through the storage room and saw myself in the mirror hanging on the wall. I was not only filthy, but my face was also completely red, probably from lack of oxygen. Because of the long period of binding, my body was covered in rope marks; I thought I needed a good shower.
I grabbed a broom, went to the kitchen, found another knife and some tape, and secured the knife to the broom. This knife was sharper, and after a few minutes, I finally cut the rope around my elbow! I couldn't believe it; I was finally free! I quickly untied the ropes from my legs and removed the gag.
"Ugh..." I screamed because there was a lock on the gag. Damn it, when did he put a lock on it? I was incredibly thirsty, so I poured myself a glass of ice water, inserted a straw through the gap in my mouth, and finally drank. It was easier than I imagined; I just had to tilt my head back, swallow a mouthful, and then take another sip.
After drinking about a gallon of water, I rushed off to take a shower. After walking a few steps, the two forgotten vibrators fell out of my body, and I felt a strange wave of shame. Just then, I saw a note with my name on it on the table, picked it up, and went back to my bedroom.
“Dear Amy,” I believe you are free when you read these words, and I’m so glad you found the right way. You will. You must have noticed the lock on the gag; the strap is iron and hard to cut. I locked it for you this morning, and you don’t have the key.
“Meet me at my place around 7 p.m. tonight. We can discuss what happened last night and what happened afterward. I trust you know what to do. Goodbye, Robert.”
After everything that’s happened, the last thing I wanted to do was stay tied up a little longer. I have to admit, his words made me feel good, and I looked forward to seeing him again. I think I really enjoyed all of this, although it will take a little while to recover. I prepared the bathroom, turned on the computer to tell everyone I couldn’t go to work because of illness, and then rushed into the bathroom, caressing every inch of my skin with shower gel and warm water.
Robert has been really good to me. He could have easily raped me or turned me into his personal slave, but he didn’t. I felt like I could trust him now, even though I didn’t even know his last name. Maybe I can ask him at dinner; I’m starving right now…

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