|The Toy Store|
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|© Copyright 2016 - Cropsncuffs - Used by permission|
|Storycodes: F/ff; F+/f; D/s; store; dogsuits; cages; cuffs; bond; catsuit; bitgag; objectify; tease; hood; lesb; oral; climax; cons; X||
|The Toy Store 6: Liquidation Sale Cropsncuffs F/ff; F+/f; D/s; store; dogsuits; cages; cuffs; bond; catsuit; bitgag; objectify; tease; hood; lesb; oral; climax; cons; X|
|continued from part 5
Part 6: Liquidation Sale
“Disposable incomes are just not what they used to be I am afraid” she said as she led me inside “So the whole stock, fixtures and fittings has had to be put on the market to meet the creditors”
The discreet door swung closed behind us and I followed a lithe arse in tight lycra trousers down a hallway into a reception room. Once it had bustled, but now there was no-one behind the plush desk, and the solid looking doors were all firmly closed.
Whatever had led to the demise of the fabled Adult toy shop, my disposable income had not suffered much of late and I was in the mood to make some purchases for my own perverted little collection.
“Literally everything is up for sale” she said, with a toss of her long blonde ponytail. “And I do mean everything” This time there was a knowing look in her big green eyes that penetrated to my crotch. “You would be absolutely amazed at some of things that were the property of the shop”
A door swung open and we were in what I took to be a long line of kennels, like those you might find at a dogs home.
As I drew level with the first cage I saw two large black dogs pacing. They stood tall, had broad chests and sleek haunches. It was only when the smallest one turned to face me I took a pace back and I heard myself gasp. Beneath brown eyebrows was a pair of bright green human eyes. And when the larger beast came to stand at her side there were deep brown eyes behind the realistic mask.
“Our patented Rottweiler play suits” the sales lady said, her arm gliding about my waist and drawing me closer to the wire mesh “Once worn, never forgotten. They allow complete sexual access but once fitted they are absolutely escape proof until someone helps you out.” She was smiling now “And this lovely couple ran up some rather major bills with the shop and a cunning line or two in their sales contacts means they have to work them off.”
I looked down and saw the beginnings of tears in the green eyes of the woman who was trapped inside that cunningly padded prison. In the brown eyes of the male dog there was only a wild defiance. And lurking behind, an equally wild passion.
“We keep his all zippered up” The sales lady said sweetly “So he lives a horny yet utterly frustrated life in the suit. When he is really lucky, or has been a really good boy, we let his bouncy cock out of the costume and let him mate with his bitch. That is really something to see I assure you. But I can see they are not for you. Do come with me”
We passed on past other empty cages. Empty of people at least. In each cage lay a costume of some sort. Some loose and clearly designed to be worn, while others looked as if they had extensive padding, zippers and straps that were designed to imprison as much as be worn. Costumes for someone with a very specific taste, and one I did not really share.
As we passed through the door at the end of the corridor we entered another world.
“Many of the staff are also technically owned by the business” the sales lady said as she gestured to the tiny Asian girls sitting around the large room.
Most were scarcely 2ft 6 tall, while others stood nearer 3ft 6, and a few could pass for short people in society. And all about there were dressed in the bizarre clothes of their trade. There were tiny French maids that looked for all the world like over-sized dolls. There were riding figures in tight jodhpurs, knee high boots with spiky heels, harem dancing girls and a dozen others. All immaculately clad, with big brown eyes and long, luxurious hair.
The only thing they all had in common was the tiny steel cuff on every ankle that shackled them to their place to stop them escaping. Chattels of the sadly deceased business.
For the first time I saw things I could consider buying. A couple of these could be worth the purchase price on both decoration and sexual recreation grounds.
Then we were through the room and we were in a huge room chock full of props and toys. Toys and props that quite literally took my breath away.
There was a rocking horse with an upstanding dildo on the saddle and leather cuffs to ensure anyone impaled could never get themselves free without help.
There was a cunningly shaped gibbet cage hanging from a single chain that would keep its victim damn near rigid in its grip. And alongside it a low, wide bird cage that would keep its victim on their knees quite unable to rise. A mental image flickered across my mind of a naked girl helpless within reaching out to someone in a silent plea to help her escape.
There were stocks, pillories, sets of chains, collars and cuffs, and a large leather bed with cold steel hoops and hooks all around it’s edges that would allow even the meanest knot tier to restrain their willing (Or maybe not so willing) victim in something approaching comfort. Now that was another thing I might consider adding to my already considerable collection of little bondage toys. And almost unbidden I felt my hand reaching for my credit card and words starting to pour from my mouth.
That was several weeks ago, and I admit to being extremely happy with my purchases. That huge leather bed, for want of a better term, stands still unused in the very centre of my play room awaiting just the right moment. The right mood and motivation on my part.
As for my other couple of purchases, well, they too have proved to be an absolute delight. On a wild whim I purchased two of those tiny little Asian staff girls. Quite the tiniest I could find in the crowd. They were dressed up as French maids, complete with tiny stockings and matching feather dusters and when they were still they looked for a world like oversized children’s dolls.
I put them to work dusting and lightly cleaning exactly as their costumes indicated, and on the third night in my keeping their both crept into my bed and showed me the other skills they had brought with them from the adult toy shop.
Two sets of sharp little teeth set about my nipples and made me moan with delight while fingers curling into places that made me whimper. And before I knew if one was astride my face while the other’s tiny tongue was twisting about my clitoris. The lesbian part of me sent my tongue darting out into places it had been before but never on such a tiny scale. And as we lay together afterwards in the warm haze of the afterglow I realised I had made the right purchase. Money indeed well spent.
And so, my mind awash with those wild thoughts and desires, we all moved into the play room together, and with a few sheets that huge leather toy became a damn serviceable bed. And with the warm smell of leather ever present in our nostrils it drove us to even greater heights of passion and perversion.
The sunlight coming in through the window of the playroom was in my eyes as I woke one day. I rolled over to look at the distant alarm clock and found I could not move. I moved my arm to shield my eyes from the sunlight and found myself unsuccessful.
Wakefulness quickly rising in me I looked along the length of my arm and saw it was tied fast to a steel hoop at the farm corner of the bed. I twisted my neck and my heart sank as I saw my other wrist was also tied off to one of those wickedly spaced steel hoops that surrounded what was now our bed.
I knew before I looked down that my legs would also be tied firmly with wicked little knots in our silken ropes. Silken ropes usually worn by the tiny little lovers and now had me their prisoner.
I tugged at my bonds in hope rather than any true belief that I would get loose. And when I had finished tugging I had a sudden wild moment and hurled myself back and forth in my bonds, but I remained spread eagled helplessly on that soft leather bondage toy that I had allowed into my life and my home. Whoever had taught them their knot tying skills had done a damn fine job.
My hair fell across my face and I could hear myself panting as for the first time in my life I found myself utterly helpless. And, deep down, I could hear a lust in my panting that both aroused and terrified me at the same time. I had read somewhere many years ago that the best submissive was a broken dominant, and the thought that this might be true turned my blood to ice and my passions to fire.
Then they were there. Sheathed in PVC catsuits I knew that had obtained from the real toyshop. Large dolls had been the rage over the summer, and some in the Brats range had supplied my lovers with enticing swimwear and some items that I severely doubted the children they were aimed at would understand. Two of these were the PVC outfits my tiny lovers had modified to fit themselves to perfection. One was sheathed from head to toe while the other was in the form of a playsuit of a plunge neckline top and skin tight shorts. Both had fashioned enticing domino masks from surplus material, wore heavy makeup and had managed to retrieve high boots riding crops for their costumes of the equestrian dolls I had bought for my nieces. Those were dolls that were never going to be delivered I could tell.
And what truly terrified me was what dangled from the hand of one of my lovers. A bundle of straps and chrome. I could make out a broad black rubber bit in amongst the straps and I knew it could have only one destination.
Without a word they stood either side of my leather bondage prison and reached out for me. The straps unfurled about my face, curving about my head as if they were intended to be there. The submissive in me allowed the big rubber bit in between my teeth and I felt tears running down my cheeks as the straps were pulled tight one after another. Straps about my head, down over my face, splitting either side of my nose and moving together to meet that rubber bit that had made my voice it’s prisoner. More straps tightened under my chin and about my throat to pull everything together and make sure I could not easily get myself free of it.
I looked up at them, my head turning back and forth as I found the straps intruded in to my vison in a subtly disturbing way, blocking the edges in a way that forced me to move my head back and forth to see them both.
Standing one either side of the leather bed they both reached out and wickedly gentle fingers stroked my flanks, touching my hair, my thighs and finally dipping tenderly in to my womanhood and caressing my tenderest spot in a way that made me cry out, then moan, and finally howl with a passion I had not realised dwelt within me.
The next thing I knew as I lay there is a post-orgasmic daze was the slightly rough touch of leather as a thick collar was being fastened snugly about my throat. I felt my treacherous mouth smiling about the rubber bit as I felt the caress of the leather snuggling up against the entire circle of my neck. And I was loving it. I watched as one of them reach down and snapped a leash to the huge chrome ring on the front of the collar and gave it a tug.
When deft little hands unfastened the silken ropes I rolled off our leather bondage bed and came to rest on all fours, and the submissive part of my felt absolutely no need to get up any further. There was another firm tug on my leash and I found myself following them meekly away, walking just far enough behind to glory in the sight of their tightly sheathed buttocks under their gleaming PVC covering.
They swept aside a curtain in the corner of my apartment to reveal a puppy cage that looked as if it was just the right size for me.
That was some time ago. I am not sure quite how long. The time has passed in a submissive glow that I both love and dread. More of them have moved in with us, other tiny girl with wicked fingers and dancing tongues that reduced me to a blubbering wreck. The collar never comes off, and I am regularly swathed in other straps of leather. Harnesses, reins, bitchsuits, you name and they seem to have it. And a deep part of me has loved every moment of it. The leashed walks, the night tied to our leather bondage bed surrounded by their warm bodies, and the torments within that puppy cage. A cage that had filled me with dread and awoke a deep submission in me when the door first snapped closed that I had never dared admit existed within me.
Then, one day, they fitted me with a thick leather puppy hood. More of a sculpture in leather and straps than just a hood and I never looked back. Big floppy ears, a muzzle that nearly filled my vision and opaque brown lenses in the eye holes so my human eyes were hidden. I caught sight of myself in a mirror when wearing it and I had never felt a wave of passion like it. Of course, I could stand up and get out of my slavery any time I like. Any time I like. Really, I could, honestly. And one day I will. One day. Honest, really, I will. One day.
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