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Showing posts with label hanging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hanging. Show all posts

Monday, November 20, 2017

The Vat of Doom (story)

Being a secretary is hard work. The office work is fine, it's having to deal with that the boss likes to fondle my butt and trying to kiss me all the time. And he's always finding excuses to bend me over his desk for a spanking...being late, mistakes, forgetting things...and the thing is that he makes it up most of the time.

He's a creep. But then again, he fits the mold of the owner of a chemical company; corrupt, always sweaty and lacking any sort of ethics. With all of this rust and slimy stuff dripping down the walls, I guess he wants something nice to look at. At least we both agree on that.

Today, I wore my hair up in a bun with nice, red lipstick on. I had my glasses on today, not that I needed them, but it seems to add a little something for my boss, so hopefully he'll say yes to my day off request tomorrow. I also wore the high-neck, long-sleeved white blouse that he likes. Nice, knee-length, black skirt. And hose, he loves it when I wear hose. And my nice, black heels. I just wished he wasn't such a troll...



It was late when I got out to my car. As I sat in and started it, I remembered the notes I had to transcribe. If I didn't get it done then not only would I get spanked first thing...which I wouldn't mind if it was someone from my little BDSM group...but he would also say no to my day off!

I went up the stairs to the office. When I got to the office door, I stopped. It was kicked in. I slowly walked in. The office was ransacked. Papers everywhere. I saw some movement from the window that overlooked the work floor. I walked up to it and searched the floor. I thought I saw someone moving around the vats. I peered closely and saw a couple people on the catwalk above the vats. They saw me and pointed.

I stepped back. I was scared and figured I should get the hell out. But before I could turn, a beefy arm grabbed me by my waist and pinned my arms to my sides. I opened my mouth to scream but a rag was shoved over my little mouth and nose.

I screamed into the rag and struggled. The rag had a sweet smell to it. I brought my legs up and kicked outward, but he just held me and let me kick. I tried whipping my head back and forth to get away from the rag, but his huge hand kept my head in place.

I moved my shoulders violently and kept screaming. But the sweet smell was overpowering and it was getting a little hard to breathe. And I was starting to get tired. I kept fighting and kept getting weaker. And weaker.



Soon, I was just whimpering. My arms made light slaps against the large arm holding me. I could barely get my legs up. I was so sleepy. It was getting hard to keep my eyes open.

Finally, my body wouldn't respond to my commands. The urge to sleep overwhelming. My eyes rolled back into my head as my body gave up and went limp. Before the swirling darkness took me, I heard a voice...

We're going to have to get rid of the bitch.”

And then it went black.

When I came to, my head was hanging down. I was confused. How was I upright when my legs were so weak they were bent at the knees?

I groggily lifted up my head. That's when I noticed my arms were upright. Then I noticed a slight throb in my wrists. Looking up further, I saw that my hands were tied with rope at the wrists; hands slightly discolored. I pulled on my wrists and couldn't pull them down. Then as my vision cleared a little, I noticed that my wrists were placed on a hook at the end of a chain.

I started blinking more rapidly as there were the sound of a motor and the chain pulled up, taking my arms with it. As I was pulled up, my arms stretched. Soon, my hands were high above me and I was standing up straight. I looked forward and realized I was on the edge of the catwalk, right over the work floor. My eyes went down and saw the vat of green acid bubbling below me.

My eyes went wide and I screamed for help and started to move backwards. That's when I discovered two more things about my predicament. First, my legs wouldn't move because they were also bound with rope at my knees and ankles. Second, my scream was severely muffled. I was gagged.

They took no chances with anyone hearing me cry for help. The gag was pretty effective. My mouth was packed with a sponge. It filled my mouth and cheeks. I couldn't even close my tiny mouth! And to hold it in was tape, and a lot of it! It was wrapped around my head several times. I could feel it smashing my cheeks. All I could do was moan, whimper and beg...and no one outside would be able to hear any of that....

Two thugs appeared on either side of me. One of them pulled me back from the lip of the catwalk as the other stood in front of me. They were wearing black tactical suits and balaclavas. Both were very large and tall men...but then again, everyone is bigger and taller than me.

The one in front of me grabbed my chin and lifted my face up, “If you had just driven away, we wouldn't have to do this to you. But no, you had to come back. And now you have to disappear.”

His hand dropped down and he fondled one of my breasts, he laughed when I tired to jerk away, “Too late for that honey, far, far too late...”

He sighed sadly, “I actually really don't want to do this. But...we don't have the time to give you a proper send off, I'm afraid.”

He stepped away and motioned to the other thug, He had walked back to the crane controls and was waiting for the go ahead. Now that he had it, he flipped a switch and I started to slowly rise again.

There was a strain on my arms as my body was lifted off of the cat walk. The chain slowly clinked upwards. Until finally, my bound, heeled feet lifted off the grate of the catwalk. For a moment, I felt as if I was floating but then the chain jerked to a stop. I started to slowly twist in a circle.

I heard the thug throw another switch and push a lever. The crane started moving me forward, to the edge of the catwalk. Slowly turning, I saw the thug who groped me and pleaded with my eyes. He shook his head and then I was clear of the catwalk.



For just a moment, I hung there. Twisting. Then I looked down. The boiling vat of green acid a mere twenty feet below me. I screamed for help as my eyes grew wide. I struggled on the chain. And then the crane made another noise, and I was being lowered. Lowered into a painful and slow death.

I bucked my hips. Twisted my body. Looking desperately upwards, trying to get my fingers to the knot on my wrists. Not working and starting to panic. Whimpering the whole time. Massively struggling as the my descent continued.

I kept lifting my legs, as if I could prevent my oncoming death by just keeping them up. But I couldn't and my bound legs kept jerking back down. I stopped thrashing for a moment as I felt my heels start to slide off.

I was horribly transfixed as I looked down at my feet. The heels slowly sliding off. Coming off of my heels, leaving the soles of my feet. Dangling by my toes. I tried to move my toes up in an absurd attempt to keep my heels, but they fell off.

The both dropped into the acid at the same time. I watched them without blinking. Watching them dissolve. Bubbling, watching the acid peel away the leather, causing it to blister until finally, the last of the heel slipped under, causing a small bubble to rise and burst.

I screamed into the gag again. And as I was lowered down, I caught the eye of the one thug who molested me. I begged him with my eyes. I screamed into the gag. Hoping that he would hear me and understand me.

Through the gag, I promised him and his friend my body. I would fuck them both. Suck their cocks like they were the tastiest things on earth, I would swallow all they had to give me. I would let them tie me up, spank me, whip me, never to be free again, but allowed to live to be their slave, their fuck-slut, their bondage-whore forever...I would fuck them and fuck them and fuck them sooo goooood...just please, please, please don't kill me...

Soon, I realized how much I was looking up. When I looked down, I was mere inches away from my death. I screamed and screamed. I could feel the heat of the vat on my feet. A slight sting of acid as a bubble burst and sent a little bit on to my feet.

My eyes wide and getting wider, I let out one final scream. A final, gagged, PLEASE to the thug above. My eyes crossed and my head fell forward one last time as I fainted. The last thing I was aware of was my hands spasming in one last attempt to get free....



I came to in the back of a car. A limo. I blinked. I let out a please sigh as a hand was caressing my breast, lightly pinching my nipple. My unfocused eyes half-opened, staring at the ceiling of the car; I was with someone from my weekly BDSM group. And then I remembered.

I jerked forward. My breasts spilling out from my unbuttoned blouse. I discovered that my hands were handcuffed behind me. My ankles cuffed as well. A hard ballgag in my mouth.

I struggled in the backseat. My glasses fell off, a stand of brown hair in my face. A hand grabbed my neck and shoved me back. It squeezed my throat tight, making me gasp for air. I became compliant real quick. My eyes looked to the side.

A woman with short, black hair, blue, feline eyes smiling at me. Dressed in black catsuit. She squeezed harder and I couldn't breathe at all. Her smile turned cruel. As my lungs started to burn she started to talk to me.

You were to cute to kill. But, you saw too much. So. You have to make a choice. I can strangle right now and toss your body out the door without stopping. Or you can be our little slut for our use for the rest of your life. Blink your eyes once if you want to be a slut for us.”

I blinked. Ears roaring and hard to see from lack of oxygen. She let go and my head jerked froward again for air. After taking in air for a few moments, I felt her hand resume fondling me again. Her other hand going up my skirt.

Her fingers at my top of my hose, pulling it down, “You will never be free again. No one will ever see you again. You will be in bondage and cages quite often. I hope you like gags. You will serve us sexually whenever we want, wherever we want. We own you now.”

Fingers now at my panties and pulling at them, her other arm now around my shoulders, and I wondered why I was so wet, “But...in exchange...the money from our crimes...will give you everything else you want.”

My owner kissed the gag in my mouth. And I offered her my body by pushing my chest into her and taking her fingers into my wet pussy.


Being a sex slave and pampered for the rest of my life seems like a good thing compared to being a secretary to a sweaty pervert.... 


Sunday, June 26, 2016

She likes me bound, gagged and drunk...

I have been standing outside my bedroom, in black panties and heels. My hands in cuffs, pulled over my head, lashed to a hook. I have a purple scarf as a blindfold. A blue hankie as my cleavegag.

I had knotted three hankies and placed the knot portion into three different wine glasses. The first glass has a cab in it, the second a pinot noir and the third has a malbec.

She made me wait. Hands above, not seeing, a tight cleave gag pressing into the corners of my mouth. She had music playing softly. She didn't make any noises. Sometimes she caressed my bottom, my stomach, my breasts, playing with my nipples making me slowly writhe, spreading my legs a little, inviting her, but she didn't play with me there...

I'm not sure how long I waited but she slowly untied the gag and slipped it out of my mouth. She got one of the knotted scarves, it was the pinot noir first.

She stood behind me and pulled the scarf into my mouth. I let out a moan, I think. She made it so tight and I loved it, of course. I let the wine slowly seep onto my tongue. Finally, I got greedy and sucked on the knot until nothing was left. I did this for the other two gags...I'm feeling a bit fine now.

She's made me drink another glass of malbec before gagging me with a new gag; she held the glass to my lips and I had to drink it pretty quickly. Some of it went down my chin, but she licked it off.

She replaced the last gag with my soft leather bit gag. I'm also leashed. She let me down so I could post this. Once I'm done, I get to drink another glass of malbec. Then I will be on my hands and knees as she leads me to my bed. After that, I have no idea what is going to happen.

Sorry, but the door will be locked tonight. Oh my, I am so wet.



Tonight's wne:




Music fo r tonight:

Sunday, March 15, 2015

The Drool Apology (story)


The room, as always, is almost bare. You have only the one light on; a single light bulb hanging down from the ceiling. It creates a very small circle of dim light, and in it is a large, dark pillow. You have me kneeling on it.
The rest of the room is dark. I can see, but only to a point where it goes to black. The hardwood floor would be cold if it wasn't for the pillow. I can't see the walls now, but during the day I can see how you have them painted a very cold gray color. But tonight, I can only see a little bit of Baltimore's light coming through the windows to my left. It doesn't show much. I hear more than see the rain hitting the windows.
Just outside of the circle of light, I can see the camera. The tripod is at its lowest setting, pointing up at me, at my face. The red light is on. It's been on for thirty minutes now, I think. My arms are very tired.
I put on the outfit you laid out for me. The box the outfit came in was sitting on the sofa when I let myself in. I read your little note and put on the garments: black lace bra and panties, black stockings, black heels, a very dark lavender slip.
I had turned on the camera and finished the rest of your instructions. I leaned down and put on the heavy leather ankle cuffs, a small chain connecting them. I had opened my tiny mouth as much as I could. You wanted me to wear the large, black ball gag tonight.
The ball stretched my mouth as I pulled the straps back, the ball pushing past my teeth, I buckled the straps in back, tightly, the same with the chin straps...the ball firmly in my mouth, stretching my lips...uncomfortable and the message was clear; I am to suffer.
The wrist cuffs were dangling in front of me, hanging by a chain coming down from an eyehook. Tiny padlocks on each cuff but no keys. You are controlling me tonight. I snap the padlocks into place, locking myself in.
I drop down slowly, knowing the camera will eventually see my gagged face. As I lower down to the pillow, bending my knees, my hands seem to be pulled up. By the time I am kneeling, my wrists are high above me, my arms stretched as far as they can go. I let my head hang forward as I look into the lens of the camera.
That was thirty minutes ago, give or take.
My arms are straining. I try not to move, it seems that when I do I either put more weight on my arms or strain them even more. They're tired now. I'm hoping you come back soon and give me some relief.
My mouth is also sore. My jaw is feels like my arms, all strained and sore. The ball fills my mouth, pressing down on my tiny, pink tongue and pushing against the roof my mouth. I whimper a little.
The door opens and while light pours in, I can only see your shadow, I hear you walk closer. You stop just behind the camera. I hear something swish in the air. Then you step forward and to my right, I look up at you with pleading eyes; I'mso sore.
"You haven't drooled yet."
I shake my head and give you a "I'm sorry" look.
"You know that's a live feed, right? They want you to drool."
I look back down at the camera, pleading with my eyes, apologizing with them, wondering who is watching and if they even care about my silent apologies.
"Such a bad girl."
I feel the crop you've been holding under my chin. The leather whispers under my chin and up one cheek.
"Tell them you're sorry."
Looking into the camera, the crop slowly sliding away, "Ahhmssmmrrry..."
As soon as I give my gagged apology to the watchers, I feel it. It's warm and and it trickles from the top of the ball. In a small, quicksilver movement it tickles my lower lip and then slips right over my chin. A nice, long, un-breaking silver line of drool dropping to the floor with a plop.
You've moved behind me. You use the crop to lift the slip up and off my bottom
and caress each cheek in small circles with the crop. I close my eyes and make a small noise...more drool.
"I'm going to hurt you now. And each time I hit you, you will apologize to all the people watching you. Starting...now."
The sharp sting makes me squeal and then moan, throwing my head up a little, closing my eyes. When I open them, breathing a little heavier, ""Ahhmssmmrrry..."
More drool.
SMACK!
"Ahhmssmmrrry..."
More drool.
SMACK!
"Ahhmssmmrrry..."
You aren't stopping. My bottom is stinging. I'm screaming my gagged apologies. I haven't cried yet, but I will. And the drool...
It just cascades down over my chin. From the top of the ball or from under it, the drool just keeps coming as I moan, as I breathe, as I scream into the gag. My chin and lips are slick and drowning in my drool.
I'm getting messy. The pain sears, the drool flows, my eyes are half-lidded as I scream myself into subspace. Not caring, wanting to be messy for everyone, to be dirty, to be nasty, to be punished, body jerking with each strike, screaming, pushing the drool out of my mouth, knowing that there are people who are watching me, watching me degrade, enjoying my humiliation, forcing me to be bad, watching me get more messier, making me their fantasy...their helpless, submissive, pain-induced fantasy-victim...knowing they will be reaching a climax while watching me and I. Just. Can't. Stop. Drooling.
You strike me again and my scream falls into a moan. Chest heaving, drool all over me, the red light of the camera, another thick line of drool falling and hitting my knees...
Please, baby, oh please, please, pleasepleasepleasePLEASE...make me cum, baby...please....
And then you lean into my ear, I can almost feel the evil grin on your face, "I'm going to leave you now. I want you to apologize. I want you to beg them. I'll be back in thirty minutes."
I look back to the camera and beg. I apologize. I ache. My mouth aches, my arms aches. My stomach is tight, my panties feel uncomfortable and wet. I beg. And when I hear the lock on the door click, that's when the first tear slides down my face as I whimper out another "sorry"....oh, god, I need it from you so badly baby, come back, oh please come back...
"Ahhmssmmrrry..."
And the drool doesn't stop....


Friday, December 6, 2013

Favorite Modes of Asphyxiation

Actually, I like most methods of breathplay pretty equally.  With the exception of drowning.  Still working on that.  Anyway, if you have read previous blogs of mine then you would know I had to put breathplay on hold for awhile due to medical reasons.  Having said that, pretty recently, I got a good report and while I won't be passing out anytime soon, some, limited forms of breathplay will be allowed.  Here's my favorites methods, going from what I like to what I like the most:


Choking:





Choking is very personal to me.  Hands around my neck feel great, but seem to feel like my private space is being invaded.  Which is fine during rape play;  that is kinda the point.  It's rougher than other forms, but defintily personal.


Strangling:







Cord, belt, scarf...doesn't matter.  Strangling is a good and slow way to prolong a scene and is easier on the person doing the strangling.  There might be some serious bruising on the neck, but it's a good way to keep control during a scene.  I love to make those strangling sounds and I like tight things on my neck anyway!


Bagging:





My go-to for breathplay.  Easy to do, can be hands-free, and quite frankly it heightens the panic factor for me.  Especially as I go into orgasm.  Wheee!


Hanging:






I've only done it a few times; very dangerous and should only be done with a professional.  But the rush is good, tongue swelling in my mouth, struggling in the air for air....very intense!

So, just a quickie post today.  About a few things I like.  :)




Friday, January 11, 2013

Finally: Bagged & Hung!

Between work, the holidays (meaning more work) and getting the plague...I am long overdue to post this video!  I apologize, but I think I paid for it by doing this little video...

The noose cinched the bag over my head.  Normally, the noose has a bit of space at the knot, which enables me to get pulled up for longer periods of time.  This time, the air ran out quick and I actually panicked!  BTW, I don't even remember saying a a gagged, "Fuck!" at the end!

Ok, here's the video!


And as a bonus...





Saturday, December 29, 2012

Wrapped Head & a Little Bit of Struggling/Breathplay!

Soooo....I found some older pics and videos of me that I would like to share.  Just a few mind you....

This picture is from when I liked using bondage tape on a regular basis: no glue to worry about!

I enjoy the whole head encasement fetish.  I still like to see what's going, but sometimes a blindfold or something like this just adds to the excitement of NOT knowing what is going to happen next!

Struggling.  Sometimes a damsels has to struggle!  It ramps up the excitement and helps to get into the role of being a DiD!  Some of you may have seen this elsewhere, but if you haven't, enjoy this little clip of me struggling!




Ok, the next two of me are very old.  I was 18 at the time, no audio and a poor picture quality of me getting my head wrapped and then choked!





Thought I'd bring some stuff out of the dusty treasure chest!  Hope you liked them!

Mmmmpphh!


Friday, November 9, 2012