Post-Otakon Suzy Kidnap Opportunity 2019

Sigh...didn't get “kidnapped” again.... Although, I may be paranoid here, but I think got the serious eye by two guys and one lingering look from a girl who I think was cosplaying a character from Durarara, the one who is death on a motorcycle....

But I had a great time! Met a few people, made new friends, saw some cool stuff...wanted to buy some cool stuff...bought some cool stuff I probably shouldn't have.....

No hook ups this year. Or kissed anyone lustfully. Hugs and cheek kisses...I wasn't really looking for anything more than that this year.

Soooo...I think I might have one or two more years of cosplay left. Doesn't mean I won't dress up in dresses or create outfits for myself (or perhaps someone else can do it for me?), but I think that I like doing that better....perhaps more pictures were taken of me when I wasn't in cosplay this year? I dunno...but it was fun!

So, perhaps next year someone will find me and “kidnap” me...

(BTW, wrote this while handcuffed and ball gagged)

A Secretary's Need (story)

Ok, this is the last of the breathplay stories I had written for that breathplay site. I hope you enjoy it!

And please remember to vote for the cosplay for my Otakon kidnap opportunity! Go here for details: https://thegaggedgirl.blogspot.com/2019/06/it-isalmost-that-time-again-suzy-kidnap.html 

(please press play before reading)

I stayed late to wrap up some things at the office for the accounts manager before leaving for a long weekend. Every other Saturday, I physically report to the dungeon for duties as assigned. This weekend, I was to be a hostess...which means an evening of really tight bondage and gags...and hobbling around to show guests and their own slaves around. Whenever I pull this duty, I go for a long weekend because it usually takes a day for me to recover and for all the visible rope marks to go away. 

And it also means that I was spending the entire day distracted. Dreaming of strict bondage, several types of gags shoved into my little mouth over the evening, fondling, spanking...I spent the day continuously wet.

I went into the manager's office to put away the last files before leaving. The manager had already left two hours ago. After putting the files away, I walked past the desk and saw the balled up laundry cleaning bag in the otherwise empty waste basket. I stared for a moment, dreaming of being helpless, bagged, worked over with a vibe, struggling for air hoping to last long enough for an orgasm before passing out...

I shook my head and left the office. I went to my desk and started closing things down. I was the last one there. I looked around. The bag was right there...but, out here, in the open? I laughed at myself at the thought of getting off right there, especially with someone who might walk in.

I looked around as I shut off the lamp on my desk and noticed that the office supply closet door was open. I did a hard blink. I slowly looked back at the manager's office. I licked my lips, went back to the wastebasket and snatched the clear, laundry bag out of the wastebasket.

Frantically looking around, I made my way to the supply closet and slipped in. I didn't see anyone around, but I wanted as much privacy as I could get. The closet was perfect.

I entered and flicked the light switch. On three walls were tall shelves of office supplies. A stool at the end. I closed the door behind me.

I looked at the bag. There were no rips in it. Just the one hole for the hanger. I found the clear packaging tape and fixed that. Then I found the rubber bands, the larger ones. I needed to cinch the bag.

I closed my eyes for a moment. Was I really going to do this? Couldn't I just wait? Am I that desperate? Did I need it that badly?

I felt a small throb in my pussy. Yes. Yes, I did need it...

I looked around on the floor and the stool. My outfit wouldn't get dirty, or at least, dirty enough to raise question. My jacket was back at my desk. I had on my knee-length tan skirt, a long-sleeved white blouse, hair back in a white head band and sensible, brown heels. I took a moment to be thankful for no hose...at this point, I was so ready I would have just a ripped a hole in them.

I lifted up my skirt and bent over a little. I slid my white panties down past my knees and let them fall to my ankles. I let my hands wander up from my thighs and they cupped my covered breasts. I closed my eyes; I was wondering who my fantasy attacker would be. The silver fox a floor down? The Asian girl with beautiful long hair two desks down from me? The executive down the hall who could pass for Catherine Zeta Jones? The really buff FedEx guy? All of them?

As I was deciding, I unbuttoned my blouse. I opened it up and looked at the top of my breasts. I gently pulled the tan bra down, exposing my nipples. I played with them with my finger tips, pretending my attacker was teasing me. I groped myself, whispering, “Please, stop!”, pretending as well. I started to slip into subspace and with eyes half-lidded, I looked to the right and saw the black, large paper clips.

The first one, I had to cover my mouth, I moaned so loudly with the pressure and pain. And so much pleasure. The second one was placed with mu lips firmly placed, but still whimpering...my pretend attacker was being so cruel.

With one hand on a breast, the other made its way down. I ran a finger over my moist lips, glad I shaved earlier. Rubbing and gliding, making my already wet pussy soaked, whispering for my imaginary attacker to stop, please stop, please, I'll be good, I won't tell just stop....

My knees started to go weak so I sat on the stool, leaned back and kept going. Whimpering and moaning. Nipples hurting under the clips in delicious pain. Now both hands were working; one on the clit, and a finger going in and probing, hard.

I opened my eyes and saw on the bottom shelf a fat marker and hand lotion. I licked my lips; was I that desperate? I closed my eyes, pretended that my attacker was raping me. Head leaning back, a pressure building up fast, ready to burst. It was time for the bag.

I stopped long enough to grab the bag and pull it over my head. Pulling two rubber bands over and down, feeling the plastic cinch into my neck. I was sealed, only so much air. My pretend attacker was going to kill me while raping me....

I completely slipped into subspace. I begged, I moaned, I pleaded and all the while, my fingers driving up the amount of pressure. And finally, that bag grew warm with stale air. The plastic was starting close in a little bit more with each breath.

I slowly slipped off the stool. I was laying on the cold floor. Hand working myself, the clips were unbearable, the bag fogging up..still whimpering and moaning and just saying “no, stop” over and over and over....

One hand shot out and grabbed the fat marker. Clumsily used the hand lotion to lube it. My left hand took over my clit, my right held the lubed marker, reached behind me and forced it into my little, butthole.

My eyes rolled back into my head. It felt so huge in me! Filling me. Almost too much. And as I thrust it in, in the shock of it, I took a deep breath and plastic reached almost all the way to my throat.

My eyes were closed, but my head started whipping around in a futile effort to get the plastic out. It moved some, but not completely and my small, pink tongue kept stabbing at it to force it out, but the only got the plastic stuck to it.

All the while, my fingers rubbed at my clit furiously. The marker being moved inside of me. No air to whimper or moan or beg, just enough to grunt.

Grunting as my imaginary attacker used me, filled me, took my breath away, telling I was a whore, a meat hole, fuck meat, such a dirty whore, such a dirty slut and I agreed. I was such a dirty slut, such a whore...yes, yes, I am a dirty slut, let me cum let me cum, please oh god don't kill me before I cum, I'm a dirty slut, I'm a dirty slut, OH MY GOD I'M A DIRTY SLUT!!!!
My lungs burned only for a moment before euphoria set in. My head was madly moving around on its own, eyes only showing whites, little mouth wide open, plastic sucked too far in with just my tiny tongue trying to break through.

The pressure broke with an explosion. My orgasm was violent. My hips bucked, one leg kicked so hard the heel came flying off, exposing my small foot. Not enough air for me to scream out my orgasm, feeling as if electricity was being coursed through me, there was no control. Just my body convulsing, grunting and trying so, so, SO hard to breathe...

Almost on its own, one hand ripped a hole into the bag, Cool air rushed in and I just laid there, breathing greedily My body twisted on its side. Hands limp on the floor. Eyes closed and still panting. A ripped plastic bag around my neck. Panties around my ankles, skirt hiked up. A marker sticking out of me. I bet I made quite the picture.

After what seemed like forever, I picked myself up. I reset my clothes and picked up everything I used. I cautiously opened the door. Looked around and saw no one. Threw the bag and marker away. I cleaned myself up in the ladies room. Feeling tired, satisfied and feeling marvelously like a dirty girl, I left work.

As I rode the elevator down, I thought, “Oh yes, I AM a dirty slut....”