I knew that Bruce and I were going to a party tonight. One of THOSE parties - a bondage party on the first night of a sci-fi convention. I was already nervous, remembering how Bruce said what he might do with me. He was going to gag me, then use our leather manacles to hold my wrists to the opposite elbow behind my back. As soon as we got into the party, he’d make me strip butt-naked, tie a string between my wrists, and dangle a Ping-Pong paddle from it, such that it was butt-high, then write “Spank me!” in large letters on my back with a marker. The idea of it got me hot - I love public bondage and humiliation with a willing audience.
I was in the hotel room, wearing nothing but strappy sandals - Bruce was to present to me my outfit. I had butterflies in my stomach.
He walked into our hotel room from the bathroom, holding up my metal chastity belt. Well, that’s the first thing I am to put on. I put the waist belt on, but didn’t lock it yet. I then slid the front shield down on it’s hinges. At the bottom of the shield, right between my legs, a flat metal cable runs up the crack of my butt to join the waist belt. One click of a lock, and it’s good to go. I knew I wouldn’t have access to the key.
Bruce smiled at my eager compliance, then pulled out padded handcuffs. “Turn around” he ordered. When I complied, he ran the handcuffs below the butt-strap, then locked my hands in place. Any struggling only pulled on the strap to give me a wedgie.
“You know, I think you should wear some earrings. ‘cmon to the bathroom.”
I was weary of his suggestion, but came along anyway. I saw they were gold hoops. I hoped he wasn’t planning to tie them to something. He was gentle putting them on. I looked in the mirror. There was a key dangling from each one - handcuff key on one side, and chastity belt on the other.
“I thought you should have the keys” Bruce explained. Of course with my hands attached to my butt, there was no way I was going to reach my ears. Everyone had access to the keys - except me.
He threw a coat over me, he grabbed a large duffel bag, and we were off through the hotel halls, smiling politely at the other hotel guests we passed.
We arrived at Room 312, and were checked off of the list, and allowed inside. Bruce immediately took my coat and sandals off, baring my chastity belt for all too see. We wandered around the suite for a while - things were just getting started.
He stopped me. “You will have three tasks this evening. The first one is simple. Wear these.” He held out a pair of Japanese nipple clamps - the ones that tighten when you pull on the end. Bruce LOVES nipple clamps, but I hate the sting and throbbing pain - it’s not often I’ll wear them. I reluctantly trust out my breasts. Bruce put the clamps in my hand, smiling. “I’m sure you can get them on - be creative.” I tried squirming to put them on, much to Bruce’s amusement. I didn’t come close, getting only frustrated. Then I understood.
I went up to a young guy that was watching a woman getting prepped for a whipping. “Excuse me.” I said.
He stepped aside. “Sorry” he mumbled.
“No I think I need some help.” He turned and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. It must be every guy’s dream there to have a bound woman asking him for help.
“I need these put on.” I explained, showing him the nipple clamps, and thrusting out my breasts.
“Uh.” He stammered. From the bulge in his pants, I don’t think that his brain was getting much blood. He took the nipple clamps, and went to plop them onto my nipples. He was clearly a newbie.
“No. You first have to rub the nipples a bit - kinda tenderly. Tease them into getting firm, then the clamps will hold better. If I yelp when they go on, you probably did it right.” I was turning red. Telling a stranger to play with my nipples before putting on clamps. Bruce must be loving this.
He started to play with my nipples, and I was loving it. I closed my eyes to enjoy the sensation when the fire hit. “Yow! That hurts!” He jumped back a foot. “I’msorry.I’msorry.I’msorry.” He stammered, blurring it into one word, and went to grab the clamp.
“No. Now the other side.” I thrust my other breast out at him, which he clamped also.
With my nipples hurting, clamps dangling down from the ends, I turned to go back to Bruce, hearing “Love your belt!” coming from the newbie.
Bruce was all smiles as I arrived. We took another tour of the
room, making light conversation about the attire (and lack thereof) of
the guests.
“I see you have the clamps on. Too bad they are up-side down.”
Bruce smiled and held out a light chain with a hook on each end.
“Your next task is to run this through the ends of a clamp, up behind your
neck, and down to the other clamp.Tighten it so that your breasts are perky, and hook the ends back onto
the chain. Go to someone different.”
I took the chain, and approached a woman wearing a leather corset. I always admired corsets. She saw me purposefully approach, and looked at me approvingly.
“Excuse me miss, I was hoping you could help me.”
“That all depends on what help you need.” She playfully pulled a bit at a clamp, and I let out a yelp.
I explained what I needed, and she smiled. As she took off both of the clamps, the sudden rush of blood get another yell and grimace. She skillfully put them back on upside-down. She ran the chain through the nipple clamps, and started pulling the ends back up toward my neck, lifting my breasts by the clamps. When my breasts were straight out, she hooked the chain ends on. “is that good?”
“Yes. Thank you very much.” I turned to leave.
She grabbed me by the chain, and pulled me back. “Hold on a sec.” She smiled wickedly. She unhooked the chain, and pulled the ends up. I stood on tiptoe in a vain attempt to lessen the pressure. She just held me there and smiled for what seemed like a few minutes. She tightened the chain so that my breasts actually went up and out, all held up by my tit clamps. “Much better. Now you may go.”
I carefully walked back to Bruce. Any bouncing was duly felt by my tortured nipples. He immediately started in, gesturing toward the large bag he brought. “Your last task is to jump for an hour on this trampoline!”
My eyes bugged out of my head. He wants me to WHAT?
Bruce started laughing. “Gotcha!” He opened up the bag just enough to pull out a posture collar. It is curved to fit over my shoulders, juts up in the back to cradle the back of my head, and is molded forward and up in the front to frame the sides of my chin. All in all, it is comfortable to wear, but I sure can’t turn my head, and even talking and eating are difficult, as I can’t fully open my mouth - I tend to mumble things out.
Bruce bent back down into the bag. I sure couldn’t see what he was doing. I felt him put a shelf next to me, just under my breasts. A rod of some sort ran along the side of the shelf, going past my side and ending a short distance past me. A pair of straps was attached to the edge of the shelf between my breasts. He pulled these up, separated them to wrap over each breast, then back down to where they started. When he tighten these up, their purpose became clear - they not only supported the shelf, but also forced my boobs to blow up like balloons, increasing the pressure on my clamped nipples.
Bruce quickly attached a wire cable between the ends of the shelf poles, then from the midpoint of that cable down to the ribbon cable of my chastity belt. He threw a few small things out onto the shelf, taking care to nestle something about the size of a cup between my breasts. I felt him start to caress my chastity belt, and I was suspicious.
“Excuse me everyone!” Bruce’s announcement started. A crowd quickly formed, and Bruce continued. “This woman here will be in this hotel tomorrow, wearing this chastity belt from noon until 6 PM. Under the chastity belt will be the dildo and butt-plug shown on this shelf. Both of them are hooked up to pagers, with local numbers. The phone number for the dildo is on the front of her chastity belt, the one for the butt-plug is on the back. The first call turns the vibrating dildo or butt plug on, the second turns it off, and so forth. These numbers are local. And remember hotel goers - local calls are free, so call soon, call often. She’ll love you for it. Call from a cell phone and watch her reaction as you turn her vibrators on and off at will! Don’t give her the numbers - we don’t want her to be able to do much about it. For your convenience, Patricia here has supplied pens and post-it notes so you can take down the numbers.”
“Pens. Must be in the cup between my breasts.” I thought.
He gestured toward the crowd assembled. “Now why don’t you take a tour through the people assembled?”
Wouldn’t you know it, the first stop was the cruel woman who over-tightened my nipple clamps. She pulled off a post-it, and went to write down a number, leaning on the shelf a bit.
“Ow. Ow. Ow.” I whimpered.
Bruce explained my predicament “When you lean on the shelf, it not only gives her a wedgie by pulling up on the butt-strap, but it pulls down on her breasts, which are still held in place by the nipples.”
The woman smiled. “I like the way you think!”
Bruce smiled back. “What you do you say to coming over to our room tomorrow morning? Pat here might need a hand getting dressed tomorrow.”
Oh no. It was going to be a long long day. . .
2001