10-01-2023, 11:20 AM
At first, I didn't even understand what had happened. My left hand still held the back of the lock, and my right still firmly grasped the dial. What I couldn't comprehend was why there was suddenly about an inch of space between the two.
I had pressed hard enough to shear the dial completely off the cheap piece of garbage lock. All I could see sticking out from the lock was a tiny, flat piece of metal where the dial should have been attached.
Not since the first incident with the tub had I felt this sudden surge of deep, genuine panic. But unlike that first time, there was no following realization that my panic was undeserved. This time, as I stared at the ruined lock, the only conclusion was that I truly was trapped atop this cruel machine with a will of its own. And I had absolutely no idea how the hell I was going to escape.
And to punctuate the point, the sybian changed patterns once again. It began to repeatedly ramp up from 0 to 100% over the course of a few seconds, over and over.
The change in sensations, combined with the explosive rush of adrenaline that the broken lock had provoked, sent me spiralling into another massive orgasm that I was entirely unprepared for. I cried out, in a strange mix of surprise, terror, and absolute pleasure as my body clenched so hard around the dildo that I could feel its rotation slow. With my head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, my mind raced trying to figure out how to escape this trap I had designed so perfectly for myself. But my thoughts were like wet tissue paper in a storm, and I couldn't hold onto them long enough to form plans. Because at my core, this situation was exactly what I had always hoped for. Here I was, actually trapped against this machine like I had always fantasized about. I had no prepared avenue of escape, no guarantees that this would ever end. If I wanted to survive this, I would have to struggle against my own body to do it.
The idea set me on fire. Part of me was genuinely terrified, that I wouldn't be able to free myself. How long would I be here until someone found me? Nobody visited me, nobody called me. Would I even be able to survive? If I did... would I even still be sane by the time I was rescued? Even if I could free myself, how long would it take? Could I handle it? But somehow, every worry just sent a shock straight to my pussy. The idea of struggling for my life and sanity, the prospect of it being more than my mind could handle, leaving me a moaning ruin... even the fact that this was the dark consequences of my own desires somehow turned me on even more. This is what I had always wanted, and it turned me on so badly to get it.
Reality came back to me in the form of a powerful blast of vibration against my clit. As turned on as I was by my predicament, it didn't make my nerve endings any less sensitive. Gasping desperately, I tilted my hips back as far as I could to give my poor clit some degree of relief. Fortunately, the machine had lowered the intensity of the dildo's rotation for the moment which made this the easiest position on my body for now. While it still did insistently stir up my insides and hum against my clit, I found I could at least focus my thoughts somewhat now. Before I lost the opportunity, I needed to come up with some sort of a plan.
Looking around, I had apparently dropped the dial to the lock and it had rolled out of reach, so it wasn't worth thinking about any further. Reaching gingerly for the lock without leaning forward onto my inflamed clit, I tried to carefully grasp the tiny broken shaft with my fingernails. It became quickly clear that this was a dead end: not only could I not get any grip, I also would have no clue where to turn it to without the dial. Defeated, I dropped the lock against the steel rod. Refusing to give up, I began pulling against all of the cuffs with my full strength; while I had intended for them to be impossible to escape from, I had never been quite as motivated as I was now. Unfortunately, I had met my goals with too much success; the chains were thick, the floor brackets were insanely secure, and the cuffs themselves were too well made to be broken open. I had no leverage to wiggle out of even the ankle cuffs, let alone the thigh cuffs and the belt pinning my hips down.
If escape was impossible, then rescue would have to be the next angle. While anyone walking in on this would be incredibly embarrassing, it would still be better than the alternatives. Unfortunately, my phone was most certainly not accessible, and I had made a habit of disabling the voice assistants because I found them "creepy and intrusive". I scowled up at my phone, sitting smugly across the room recording my plight.
As hard as I was trying to focus, the machine had never truly stopped buzzing away between my legs. In fact, it had slowly lowered itself to the barest of activity, which had the dangerous effect of becoming slowly pleasurable again. So as I looked up at my useless phone, I felt a rush of warmth radiating from my pussy as I considered the video it would contain. All the genuine anguish and raw erotic pleasure I was experiencing, and it would all be there for me to experience again and again. How many times would I watch it, fucking myself to the display of my own helpless suffering? Maybe I'd even set up a screen down here, and watch it while riding the sybian. An endless feedback loop of helplessness and pleasure.
Delicately, I slowly shifted my hips forward. I couldn't help but wince slightly at the feeling of direct contact, even with the soft silicone, but the feeling of need was overcoming my ability to think and I couldn't keep my hips tilted away forever anyway. I'd just let myself enjoy the sensations for a bit, enough to satisfy my growing cravings until the machine ramped up again, and then I'd get back to work looking for an escape. Just a bit would be okay.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the clock. 9:33, a new record. I had also spent twelve minutes on the sybian after cumming, which was a definite record of its own. Despite the electricity that began moving up my spine, I focused my gaze directly on the camera of my phone. The sybian was behaving awfully well, gently pulsing and caressing my tender pussy inside and out. I found my hands beginning to roam my own body again, as pleasure overcame any other sensations of discomfort. Soft moans spilled out of me, teased out despite my situation. My mind began to wander into fantasy once more, tainted by the genuine danger I was in.
In my mind, I never escaped. In fantasy, free from mortal concerns, I was trapped here for the rest of my life. Day by day passed, week by week, year by year, and nobody ever came and found me. I spent hour after hour riding the waves and valleys of pleasure and suffering, losing all ability to think like a human. All I could do was endure as pleasure was wrung from my tortured body, until the only thing I could focus on was the anticipation of my next orgasm.
As my mind wandered, I stared straight at the phone. But not at the phone, past it. I stared at myself, the "me" that would one day be watching this video. She and I, we would lock eyes and share in this fantasy. Every time she watched this, she would remember how much we enjoyed this, enjoyed the rush and the fear and the helplessness. And in my heart, I knew even then, that I would be chasing this feeling for the rest of my life. That her and I, that the "future me" and the "me" trapped on this infernal toy, would only take this further once this was all over. That even if I did get myself free of this situation, I truly was trapped, by my own desires driving me back into riskier and more dangerous situations. I had been trapped ever I began exploring my own pleasure, and I loved it.
Unlike my earlier explosive orgasms, this one built with a powerful inevitability. As I embraced how dangerously addicted I was to all of this, and how much I loved the risk I had put myself in, my body simply unfolded. It started with my legs shaking violently, and I almost looked down to see what was going on but found myself unable to look away from the camera. I was locked in eye contact with the degenerate "me" of the future, the "me" that I was creating right now, and I couldn't tear my gaze away from who I was corrupting. The shaking rose up to my hips, forcing me to grind desperately against the vibrating base. I cried out as I aggressively rubbed my clit (which I had been trying so hard to protect) against the softly humming machine, blinking tears from my eyes at the intensity of the sensation. My hands flew to my breasts without my consent, rolling my nipples between my fingers as my entire body became ravenous for any pleasurable sensation it could experience. A storm of erotic energy played between my breasts and my clit, building up throughout my body. From my toes to my fingers, I had never felt more aware of my skin. The cool air of the basement whispered against my sweat-soaked skin, highlighting every drop as it rolled down my back and stomach.
I had pressed hard enough to shear the dial completely off the cheap piece of garbage lock. All I could see sticking out from the lock was a tiny, flat piece of metal where the dial should have been attached.
Not since the first incident with the tub had I felt this sudden surge of deep, genuine panic. But unlike that first time, there was no following realization that my panic was undeserved. This time, as I stared at the ruined lock, the only conclusion was that I truly was trapped atop this cruel machine with a will of its own. And I had absolutely no idea how the hell I was going to escape.
And to punctuate the point, the sybian changed patterns once again. It began to repeatedly ramp up from 0 to 100% over the course of a few seconds, over and over.
The change in sensations, combined with the explosive rush of adrenaline that the broken lock had provoked, sent me spiralling into another massive orgasm that I was entirely unprepared for. I cried out, in a strange mix of surprise, terror, and absolute pleasure as my body clenched so hard around the dildo that I could feel its rotation slow. With my head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, my mind raced trying to figure out how to escape this trap I had designed so perfectly for myself. But my thoughts were like wet tissue paper in a storm, and I couldn't hold onto them long enough to form plans. Because at my core, this situation was exactly what I had always hoped for. Here I was, actually trapped against this machine like I had always fantasized about. I had no prepared avenue of escape, no guarantees that this would ever end. If I wanted to survive this, I would have to struggle against my own body to do it.
The idea set me on fire. Part of me was genuinely terrified, that I wouldn't be able to free myself. How long would I be here until someone found me? Nobody visited me, nobody called me. Would I even be able to survive? If I did... would I even still be sane by the time I was rescued? Even if I could free myself, how long would it take? Could I handle it? But somehow, every worry just sent a shock straight to my pussy. The idea of struggling for my life and sanity, the prospect of it being more than my mind could handle, leaving me a moaning ruin... even the fact that this was the dark consequences of my own desires somehow turned me on even more. This is what I had always wanted, and it turned me on so badly to get it.
Reality came back to me in the form of a powerful blast of vibration against my clit. As turned on as I was by my predicament, it didn't make my nerve endings any less sensitive. Gasping desperately, I tilted my hips back as far as I could to give my poor clit some degree of relief. Fortunately, the machine had lowered the intensity of the dildo's rotation for the moment which made this the easiest position on my body for now. While it still did insistently stir up my insides and hum against my clit, I found I could at least focus my thoughts somewhat now. Before I lost the opportunity, I needed to come up with some sort of a plan.
Looking around, I had apparently dropped the dial to the lock and it had rolled out of reach, so it wasn't worth thinking about any further. Reaching gingerly for the lock without leaning forward onto my inflamed clit, I tried to carefully grasp the tiny broken shaft with my fingernails. It became quickly clear that this was a dead end: not only could I not get any grip, I also would have no clue where to turn it to without the dial. Defeated, I dropped the lock against the steel rod. Refusing to give up, I began pulling against all of the cuffs with my full strength; while I had intended for them to be impossible to escape from, I had never been quite as motivated as I was now. Unfortunately, I had met my goals with too much success; the chains were thick, the floor brackets were insanely secure, and the cuffs themselves were too well made to be broken open. I had no leverage to wiggle out of even the ankle cuffs, let alone the thigh cuffs and the belt pinning my hips down.
If escape was impossible, then rescue would have to be the next angle. While anyone walking in on this would be incredibly embarrassing, it would still be better than the alternatives. Unfortunately, my phone was most certainly not accessible, and I had made a habit of disabling the voice assistants because I found them "creepy and intrusive". I scowled up at my phone, sitting smugly across the room recording my plight.
As hard as I was trying to focus, the machine had never truly stopped buzzing away between my legs. In fact, it had slowly lowered itself to the barest of activity, which had the dangerous effect of becoming slowly pleasurable again. So as I looked up at my useless phone, I felt a rush of warmth radiating from my pussy as I considered the video it would contain. All the genuine anguish and raw erotic pleasure I was experiencing, and it would all be there for me to experience again and again. How many times would I watch it, fucking myself to the display of my own helpless suffering? Maybe I'd even set up a screen down here, and watch it while riding the sybian. An endless feedback loop of helplessness and pleasure.
Delicately, I slowly shifted my hips forward. I couldn't help but wince slightly at the feeling of direct contact, even with the soft silicone, but the feeling of need was overcoming my ability to think and I couldn't keep my hips tilted away forever anyway. I'd just let myself enjoy the sensations for a bit, enough to satisfy my growing cravings until the machine ramped up again, and then I'd get back to work looking for an escape. Just a bit would be okay.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the clock. 9:33, a new record. I had also spent twelve minutes on the sybian after cumming, which was a definite record of its own. Despite the electricity that began moving up my spine, I focused my gaze directly on the camera of my phone. The sybian was behaving awfully well, gently pulsing and caressing my tender pussy inside and out. I found my hands beginning to roam my own body again, as pleasure overcame any other sensations of discomfort. Soft moans spilled out of me, teased out despite my situation. My mind began to wander into fantasy once more, tainted by the genuine danger I was in.
In my mind, I never escaped. In fantasy, free from mortal concerns, I was trapped here for the rest of my life. Day by day passed, week by week, year by year, and nobody ever came and found me. I spent hour after hour riding the waves and valleys of pleasure and suffering, losing all ability to think like a human. All I could do was endure as pleasure was wrung from my tortured body, until the only thing I could focus on was the anticipation of my next orgasm.
As my mind wandered, I stared straight at the phone. But not at the phone, past it. I stared at myself, the "me" that would one day be watching this video. She and I, we would lock eyes and share in this fantasy. Every time she watched this, she would remember how much we enjoyed this, enjoyed the rush and the fear and the helplessness. And in my heart, I knew even then, that I would be chasing this feeling for the rest of my life. That her and I, that the "future me" and the "me" trapped on this infernal toy, would only take this further once this was all over. That even if I did get myself free of this situation, I truly was trapped, by my own desires driving me back into riskier and more dangerous situations. I had been trapped ever I began exploring my own pleasure, and I loved it.
Unlike my earlier explosive orgasms, this one built with a powerful inevitability. As I embraced how dangerously addicted I was to all of this, and how much I loved the risk I had put myself in, my body simply unfolded. It started with my legs shaking violently, and I almost looked down to see what was going on but found myself unable to look away from the camera. I was locked in eye contact with the degenerate "me" of the future, the "me" that I was creating right now, and I couldn't tear my gaze away from who I was corrupting. The shaking rose up to my hips, forcing me to grind desperately against the vibrating base. I cried out as I aggressively rubbed my clit (which I had been trying so hard to protect) against the softly humming machine, blinking tears from my eyes at the intensity of the sensation. My hands flew to my breasts without my consent, rolling my nipples between my fingers as my entire body became ravenous for any pleasurable sensation it could experience. A storm of erotic energy played between my breasts and my clit, building up throughout my body. From my toes to my fingers, I had never felt more aware of my skin. The cool air of the basement whispered against my sweat-soaked skin, highlighting every drop as it rolled down my back and stomach.
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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