10-01-2023, 11:20 AM
I started small, of course. The simplest attempt was to just play with a vibrator in bed, but to try and keep holding it against me once I came. This didn't work at all: once the post-orgasm sensitivity spiked up, I reflexively pulled the toy out right away. I just didn't have the discipline to keep it in place, even if regret washed over me as soon as I pulled it away. I needed that feeling of helplessness, needed something to actually stop me from giving up right away.
At this point, it was reasonable to consider involving other people in my sex life again. But the situation had changed over time: a strange side effect of my nonexistent social life was significant success in my studies. With increased success came increased obligations, and the window of opportunity to socialize freely had closed behind me. This didn't bother me as much as I expected it would: between my work and my "play", I felt quite fulfilled and didn't really miss it. It did, however, mean that I couldn't look towards giving up control to another person in order to achieve my necessary feelings of helplessness. And so, I became increasingly creative.
By the time I graduated, I had devised a setup where I would turn on a vibrator, slide it into myself, slip on a pair of panties to hold it in place, then I'd tie my hands to the bed frame. The knots were never that good, but it was enough that I would have to put effort into untying them in order to release myself. I would enjoy the slow build, writhing on the bed knowing the torment to come, until finally the inevitable crash would hit me. Only once I came would I allow myself to begin trying to escape, at which point my sensitive pussy would force the most delicious moans from me as my toy cruelly continued its assault. My fingers would tremble as I would struggle with the knots, lengthening my torment whether I wished it or not. Eventually I would manage to work myself free, shaking as I would slip the panties aside so that my twitching pussy could force the invader out and onto the bed, still buzzing angrily. Exhausted and satisfied, I would commonly fall asleep right then and there (leading to many unnecessarily dead batteries, as I would forget to shut the damn toy off first).
I was addicted to the ritual of pleasure I had created for myself, and my mind was filled with extravagant scenarios in which I would be forced to endure more and more mechanical torment. Thanks to my exceptional grades, I was employed directly out of school at a corporation halfway across the country. While my family cried and wailed as they wished me goodbye, all I could think of was the absolute freedom that awaited me: if this is what I had accomplished on a student's budget, what could I get up to with real resources at my fingertips? The prospects thrilled me, and I began to comb through my fantasies for aspects that I could actually achieve, no matter how ridiculous. I had dreams to work towards, and no reasons to hold myself back. The idea that any of this could go too far never even occurred to me at the time, nor would it for over a year.
The day I finally made a serious mistake was a Friday, leading into a long weekend. I had been working late all week, leading a number of high stress projects that had been ongoing for months. This would be the first real weekend of freedom I had in quite a long time, and I intended to make the most of it. Kicking off my shoes haphazardly in the front hallway of my house, I threw a frozen dinner into the microwave as I began to unzip my dress. I rarely wore much clothing while at home these days, mostly just to enjoy the freedom of nudity. But this time, I was more concerned with efficiency: once I had eating the food I biologically required, I was anxiously looking forward to fucking away all the tension that had been building up without release. I ate quickly in my bra and panties, impatient to move on to fulfilling my baser needs. Once finished, I finished undressing to take a quick shower while I digested, then barely towelled off before heading down into the basement.
The rest of my house was kept presentable to guests, just in case I ever had any (though I generally didn't). The basement, however, was for my eyes only. It wasn't finished, with a concrete floor and exposed beams for walls. In any other household, it would have been filled with spare seasonal decorations and other random storage. In my house, it contained a washer & dryer in the corner, and an intimidating conglomeration of sex machines and chains in the center.
It had taken some time to assemble, with parts being switched in and out and the overall design being a matter of trial and error. But the current setup was a resounding success, to the point of making me instantly wet anytime I laid my eyes upon it. At its core, a sybian sat upon a large foam mat, wide enough for my knees on either side to be protected from the hard concrete floor. The sybian itself was relatively standard, save for the control box which I had replaced with a custom aftermarket model. Instead of manually controlling the speed, vibration, and rotation, this control box would instead randomly cycle through preset "sequences" on its own. Once turned on, it would keep playing through its options endlessly until turned off.
Around the foam mat, a number of steel brackets were drilled into the concrete. These had been an absolute bitch to install, especially when any of them would turn out to be slightly misplaced. I was never exactly handy with power tools, and found the masonry drill I rented to be loud and hellish, but I was too motivated to let it stop me. And so, after great effort, I had put together the current arrangement of brackets to hold strong chains in place. And within reach in front of the sybian, a single steel rod was drilled down deep into the concrete. It had a small hole through it near the top, just large enough to accept the shank of a padlock.
Completing the set was a set of cuffs: one for each ankle, one for each thigh, and one belt for my waist. Each was made of strong leather, padded for comfort, but held in place by strong keyed locks. The key was stored on a shelf at the edge of the room, far from the sybian. Each cuff & belt was attached to a length of thick chain, measured to the perfect length. Already feeling myself drip with excitement, I began to lock the cuffs and belts into place; the weight of the unbound chains always made my stomach flutter with excitement for what was to come. On a whim, I set my phone on the shelf with the key, setting it to record a video. I hadn't ever recorded one of my sessions before, but I found myself curious to see what I looked like as I thrashed and moaned.
Dragging the chains behind me, I moved over to the sybian sitting ominously in the center of the room. Lube sat in reach nearby, and I began to cover the toy liberally; it would not do for things to dry out once things started, given how difficult it was to stop. Once everything seemed ready, I knelt carefully onto the sybian's protruding cock, feeling its textured base nestle against my clit. Even without power, it made me shiver with anticipation.
Carefully, I began to thread the chains of my cuffs through the brackets on the floor. As each was pulled into place, I felt myself lose mobility: all the chains held me down atop the sybian, unable to raise myself far enough for my clit to escape the silicone surface that would soon be vibrating incessantly against it. With everything in place, there was absolutely no mercy or escape for me.
All the chains ended in the same place: their final links just reached the single steel rod that jutted up in front of the sybian, enough that I could slide the rod through to hold them in place. And once every chain was pulled taut against the rod, the final step was put into place: a cheap dial combination lock that I had originally purchased to use on my gym locker.
As anyone would know who had used these dial locks before, they weren't exactly the most reliable. Turn twice to the right, set the right number, once to the left, and so on... even at the best of times, they could be quite finicky to unlock. When you just wanted to open your locker so you could go home, this was a downside. But as a final challenge to overcome as a rumbling powerhouse of sexual pleasure tortured your pussy? It was perfect. Slipping it into the hole near the top of the steel rod, I snapped it closed and spun the dial once randomly to ensure a challenge when the time came. Now, until that lock was removed, I was absolutely pinned to the powerful toy between my legs. All that was left was to awaken the beast.
Taking hold of the control box, I looked up at the clock I had placed in full view: 8:43. More than enough time to utterly exhaust myself, and stil get a full night's sleep. My record so far had been an forty-seven minutes, but I was feeling ambitious tonight and wanted to give my best since I was recording this for posterity. Of course, that could just as easily work against me: being too horny frequently meant I came too quickly, and was soon sent scrambling against the padlock for my freedom. But whatever happened, I was always left feeling completely satisfied. With one last shaky breath, I clicked the box to "ON" and quickly tossed the control box out of reach.
God, if only I had known what that night had in store for me. But would I have done anything different, if I had?
At this point, it was reasonable to consider involving other people in my sex life again. But the situation had changed over time: a strange side effect of my nonexistent social life was significant success in my studies. With increased success came increased obligations, and the window of opportunity to socialize freely had closed behind me. This didn't bother me as much as I expected it would: between my work and my "play", I felt quite fulfilled and didn't really miss it. It did, however, mean that I couldn't look towards giving up control to another person in order to achieve my necessary feelings of helplessness. And so, I became increasingly creative.
By the time I graduated, I had devised a setup where I would turn on a vibrator, slide it into myself, slip on a pair of panties to hold it in place, then I'd tie my hands to the bed frame. The knots were never that good, but it was enough that I would have to put effort into untying them in order to release myself. I would enjoy the slow build, writhing on the bed knowing the torment to come, until finally the inevitable crash would hit me. Only once I came would I allow myself to begin trying to escape, at which point my sensitive pussy would force the most delicious moans from me as my toy cruelly continued its assault. My fingers would tremble as I would struggle with the knots, lengthening my torment whether I wished it or not. Eventually I would manage to work myself free, shaking as I would slip the panties aside so that my twitching pussy could force the invader out and onto the bed, still buzzing angrily. Exhausted and satisfied, I would commonly fall asleep right then and there (leading to many unnecessarily dead batteries, as I would forget to shut the damn toy off first).
I was addicted to the ritual of pleasure I had created for myself, and my mind was filled with extravagant scenarios in which I would be forced to endure more and more mechanical torment. Thanks to my exceptional grades, I was employed directly out of school at a corporation halfway across the country. While my family cried and wailed as they wished me goodbye, all I could think of was the absolute freedom that awaited me: if this is what I had accomplished on a student's budget, what could I get up to with real resources at my fingertips? The prospects thrilled me, and I began to comb through my fantasies for aspects that I could actually achieve, no matter how ridiculous. I had dreams to work towards, and no reasons to hold myself back. The idea that any of this could go too far never even occurred to me at the time, nor would it for over a year.
The day I finally made a serious mistake was a Friday, leading into a long weekend. I had been working late all week, leading a number of high stress projects that had been ongoing for months. This would be the first real weekend of freedom I had in quite a long time, and I intended to make the most of it. Kicking off my shoes haphazardly in the front hallway of my house, I threw a frozen dinner into the microwave as I began to unzip my dress. I rarely wore much clothing while at home these days, mostly just to enjoy the freedom of nudity. But this time, I was more concerned with efficiency: once I had eating the food I biologically required, I was anxiously looking forward to fucking away all the tension that had been building up without release. I ate quickly in my bra and panties, impatient to move on to fulfilling my baser needs. Once finished, I finished undressing to take a quick shower while I digested, then barely towelled off before heading down into the basement.
The rest of my house was kept presentable to guests, just in case I ever had any (though I generally didn't). The basement, however, was for my eyes only. It wasn't finished, with a concrete floor and exposed beams for walls. In any other household, it would have been filled with spare seasonal decorations and other random storage. In my house, it contained a washer & dryer in the corner, and an intimidating conglomeration of sex machines and chains in the center.
It had taken some time to assemble, with parts being switched in and out and the overall design being a matter of trial and error. But the current setup was a resounding success, to the point of making me instantly wet anytime I laid my eyes upon it. At its core, a sybian sat upon a large foam mat, wide enough for my knees on either side to be protected from the hard concrete floor. The sybian itself was relatively standard, save for the control box which I had replaced with a custom aftermarket model. Instead of manually controlling the speed, vibration, and rotation, this control box would instead randomly cycle through preset "sequences" on its own. Once turned on, it would keep playing through its options endlessly until turned off.
Around the foam mat, a number of steel brackets were drilled into the concrete. These had been an absolute bitch to install, especially when any of them would turn out to be slightly misplaced. I was never exactly handy with power tools, and found the masonry drill I rented to be loud and hellish, but I was too motivated to let it stop me. And so, after great effort, I had put together the current arrangement of brackets to hold strong chains in place. And within reach in front of the sybian, a single steel rod was drilled down deep into the concrete. It had a small hole through it near the top, just large enough to accept the shank of a padlock.
Completing the set was a set of cuffs: one for each ankle, one for each thigh, and one belt for my waist. Each was made of strong leather, padded for comfort, but held in place by strong keyed locks. The key was stored on a shelf at the edge of the room, far from the sybian. Each cuff & belt was attached to a length of thick chain, measured to the perfect length. Already feeling myself drip with excitement, I began to lock the cuffs and belts into place; the weight of the unbound chains always made my stomach flutter with excitement for what was to come. On a whim, I set my phone on the shelf with the key, setting it to record a video. I hadn't ever recorded one of my sessions before, but I found myself curious to see what I looked like as I thrashed and moaned.
Dragging the chains behind me, I moved over to the sybian sitting ominously in the center of the room. Lube sat in reach nearby, and I began to cover the toy liberally; it would not do for things to dry out once things started, given how difficult it was to stop. Once everything seemed ready, I knelt carefully onto the sybian's protruding cock, feeling its textured base nestle against my clit. Even without power, it made me shiver with anticipation.
Carefully, I began to thread the chains of my cuffs through the brackets on the floor. As each was pulled into place, I felt myself lose mobility: all the chains held me down atop the sybian, unable to raise myself far enough for my clit to escape the silicone surface that would soon be vibrating incessantly against it. With everything in place, there was absolutely no mercy or escape for me.
All the chains ended in the same place: their final links just reached the single steel rod that jutted up in front of the sybian, enough that I could slide the rod through to hold them in place. And once every chain was pulled taut against the rod, the final step was put into place: a cheap dial combination lock that I had originally purchased to use on my gym locker.
As anyone would know who had used these dial locks before, they weren't exactly the most reliable. Turn twice to the right, set the right number, once to the left, and so on... even at the best of times, they could be quite finicky to unlock. When you just wanted to open your locker so you could go home, this was a downside. But as a final challenge to overcome as a rumbling powerhouse of sexual pleasure tortured your pussy? It was perfect. Slipping it into the hole near the top of the steel rod, I snapped it closed and spun the dial once randomly to ensure a challenge when the time came. Now, until that lock was removed, I was absolutely pinned to the powerful toy between my legs. All that was left was to awaken the beast.
Taking hold of the control box, I looked up at the clock I had placed in full view: 8:43. More than enough time to utterly exhaust myself, and stil get a full night's sleep. My record so far had been an forty-seven minutes, but I was feeling ambitious tonight and wanted to give my best since I was recording this for posterity. Of course, that could just as easily work against me: being too horny frequently meant I came too quickly, and was soon sent scrambling against the padlock for my freedom. But whatever happened, I was always left feeling completely satisfied. With one last shaky breath, I clicked the box to "ON" and quickly tossed the control box out of reach.
God, if only I had known what that night had in store for me. But would I have done anything different, if I had?
My threads
https://xossipy.com/thread-39515.html (English)
https://xossipy.com/thread-40926.html (Bengali)
https://xossipy.com/thread-39515.html (English)
https://xossipy.com/thread-40926.html (Bengali)
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