Bondage Images Ch. 03

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Bondage-related snippets between Master and slave.
1.5k words
4.24
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Part 3 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 02/22/2005
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WFEATHER
WFEATHER
1,900 Followers

The park's long picnic table is covered with a thick blanket, to protect her naked skin from any splinters. Strong, thick rope connects each wrist and ankle cuff to the sturdy legs of the picnic table, with several additional ropes ensuring her torso does not have much freedom of movement; another rope even runs through the D-ring at the front of her wide collar, ensuring she is not able to lift her head. Blindfolded, she is oblivious to the eyes of the night creatures in the nearby grove of trees, but she is definitely quite aware of the chill in the near-spring air.

The willing submissive shivers as she tests her bonds. Even blindfolded, she feels her Master's eyes upon her, even as He prepares for the core of the night's activity. Yet she is confused, as she does not hear Him moving about in the pavilion or retrieving items from His "bag of tricks."

Surprised, she jumps - as much as the ropes will allow - as she feels her Master's unexpected caress between her breasts. But as soon as she has calmed again, He begins an all-out assault upon her with His fingers, tickling her mercilessly. her voice rings out, echoing off the roof of the pavilion, certainly carrying quite some distance in the crisp night air. her heartbeat is nearly thunderous in her ears as tears quickly cascade down her cheeks. her body's attempt to escape the rapidly-moving fingers is perfectly thwarted by her bondage, which holds secure, barely loosening at all.

After the tumultuous events of the past few weeks, this is probably what she needs most.

*****

Locked in a small cage like a wild tigress on display in a zoo, she can do absolutely nothing to protect her exposed body from the hot wax essentially raining upon her. Perhaps six dozen candles perched upon narrow rods above the cage produce enough hot drippings to ensure that no more than two seconds pass before another hot drop befalls her. The candles also produce the only light in this spacious chamber, and she is certain that somewhere in the shadows, her Master lurks, watching her, savoring the echoes of her gasps and moans from each hot drop affixing itself to her naked skin.

Yet while the falling wax is indeed hot, she finds something quite appealing about the situation, and that "something quite appealing" carries in her voice. Although she may at times grab the bars of the cage and shake vigorously in an attempt to flee the waxy rain, she wonders, deep inside, if she truly wants the molten rain to cease.

In time, her Master finally steps into the light of the candles, His shoes clicking upon the hardwood floor. As she squirms in the hot rain, she winces and groans as another drop of liquid wax falls upon her lower spine, her eyes pleading to be released from the cage. But He simply squats before her, reaching through the bars to gently lift her chin and gaze into her pleading eyes for perhaps a full minute as many more hot drops befall her. It is clear that He truly does care for her, and that despite the intense heat dripping upon her, she truly does enjoy both the waxing and the creativity.

*****

Kneeling on the cold stone floor, a spreader bar connecting her ankle cuffs, weighted clamps torturing her nipples and her labia, her wrists secured wide apart by the shackles connecting her with the stone wall behind her, she takes in huge gulps of air, her Master's lengthy erection no longer lodged in her throat.

A massive red-painted smile adorns her face as tears of triumph trickle from underneath the blindfold, for, at long last, after many weeks of practice, she has successfully deepthroated Him without gagging. As He kneels and hugs her and whispers His congratulations into her ear, she becomes giddy with laughter... and impatient to hold Him within her throat once more.

*****

she is slowly led along the familiar path. Blindfolded, however, she cannot see around her. Blindfolded, she feels more exposed than usual, even though she often wears no clothing. Blindfolded, His grip upon her shoulder feels tighter than usual – tighter, but not angry, only intense.

In time, she is stilled. In addition to her sandals and her blindfold and her collar, wrist cuffs are soon applied to her. Then she is backed against a tree, its rough bark scratching gently at her naked skin. A gentle breeze brushes strands of hair across her bare shoulders.

she hears her Master retrieving items from His "bag of tricks" and soon feels an arm lifted in front of her, something – likely a rope – tied to her wrist cuff. The arm is lifted skyward, and a moment later she feels rope smack her in the face and chest, bringing a smile to her lips as she realizes how she is to be restrained. Several times, her Master throws the rope skyward, and each time less and less of it smacks against her; clearly, He is wrapping the rope around a sturdy overhead branch until, at last, He lifts her other arm and ties the rope to the wrist cuff.

After taking a moment to bend down and briefly suckle her right nipple, her Master retrieves another rope from his "bag of tricks" and begins to secure her torso to the trunk of the tree. The wrapping is snug, and she certainly will not be going anywhere anytime soon. Yet, after several years under His tutelage, she feels no concern, no fear; she practically melts into the tree and into the rope, feeling quite at ease in the familiar outdoor bondage scenario. How many times had He bound her outdoors like this, sometimes to make love to her, sometimes to punish her, sometimes to simply leave her alone with her own thoughts?

The second rope tied securely on the opposite side of the tree, she tries to lean forward into her Master's touch as He stands before her, His hands exploring the many curves of her body for several long minutes as He kisses her deeply, His tongue slithering around hers inside her mouth.

But then, she is left alone. her Master withdraws from her, and she can hear Him pick up His "bag of tricks" and walk away. This is not unusual, but after the way He had kissed her and touched her, it is a bit frustrating...

After more than a few minutes of simmering in her own frustration, the slave hears it: the telltale sound of a train whistle in the distance. Fear suddenly consumes her: she has long known about the train tracks bordering the end of her Master's expansive wooded property, but just how close to the tracks has He bound her? Will she be several trees deep into the woods and thus essentially unseen, or will she be in the clear, unfettered view of the train engineers and any passengers?

The rumbling of the train sends tiny tremors through the ground, signaling that the train is indeed approaching and not simply passing by the area on another rail line. Whereas she had previously tugged at her bonds to try to lessen the frustration of her Master's departure, she soon truly struggles as her fear tries to overwhelm her, her mind wrestling with whether she should use her safeword.

*****

Blindfolded and fully clothed, she is secured to the bedposts, the chains connecting her ankle and wrist cuffs to the bolts underneath the bed providing her with very little slack. The headphones ensure that all she hears is a plethora of women loudly proclaiming their excitement to the world, moaning and crying and screaming with desire, and the sounds ultimately take their toll upon her, causing her to writhe seductively upon the bed and inherently pull at her bonds.

In time, she feels her Master sit on the bed, His hand gently running up and down her body, and she can sense His smile as her body instinctively arches up into His hand, into His gentle yet possessive touch. But all too soon, His hand is gone, only to be replaced by EMT scissors, slowly cutting away her clothes, until she is fully exposed to His gaze.

Then the waxing begins, alternating with ice and whipping. The contrast between hot and cold is tremendous for her, making the whipping even more intense. Her voice joins those being blasted into her ears as she instinctively struggles against the bonds.

*****

Wrists and ankles secured to the bedposts with just a little slack, her Master straddles her naked body, carefully affixing the blindfold to her face, plunging her into darkness. For a few moments, He toys with her hair and caresses her face and neck and chest, then finally dismounts from both the slave and the bed.

Shortly, headphones are applied to her ears. Soon, the sound of a woman being fucked roughly reaches her ears.

For an unknown amount of time, similar sounds are played for her, forced upon her ears, one sound file after another without end. It begins to take its toll upon her, her sex moistening and her nipples hardening, her body beginning to writhe within the bonds. And on occasion throughout the ordeal, her Master returns to her to briefly caress her, or gently strum her clitoris, or suckle a nipple, or straddle her once more and slip His solid erection into her mouth, or even taunt her body with one of His whips.....

WFEATHER
WFEATHER
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