Okay... What follows is a lengthy fantasy. It's meant to
take place over a period of more than a week, and that is how I wrote
it. I present it here in its entirety though.
Please comment. Especially if you like it.
DAY ONE:
This morning, I was given orders. With my cock firmly locked in its brand new cage, I was to insert the big plug into my ass before work. The day would be spent bound and full, and I was not to go to the bathroom at work. I had to-- well, let me just tell you what happened.
I went to a bar for lunch. It was supposed to be a 'dive' bar, and it was. I ordered really greasy food, hoping the plug would keep things in when my stomach turned. I drank two beers right away, as I was told. It wasn't long before I had to go to the bathroom.
So into a stall I went. I closed it behind me, but didn't lock it: slaves apparently don't GET privacy. The best I could do was lean against the door while I pissed.
It sounded odd going into my water bottle. I didn't think it was at all possible that someone would mistake the sound for me using the actual toilet.
When he came in, I heard him stop and listen. I heard the chuckle. Then the door shook a little when he wrapped on it with his knuckle.
I screwed the top back on the bottle, zipped myself up, and opened the stall.
He wasn't an attractive man, but I've seen worse. The lecherous smile on his face was almost infectious as he looked at the bottle in my hand, my cock shriveled in its cage, and then over at the toilet, empty and unused.
He stepped past me and sat down. I wondered if this was a setup; did he KNOW about my orders? When he pulled his pants down to his ankles to use the toilet, it seemed like he did. When he pulled out his cock and waved me forward, I was certain.
He farted as he came in my mouth. Then he patted me on the head and told me to go ahead and swallow. He asked if I'd be there again tomorrow. I didn't answer, but I think we both knew.
Back to work, water bottle in hand. For the rest of the day, I was to drink from the bottle. If I had to go again, all I could do was refill.
According to the rules, there was only one way I could avoid it: if I don't want to drink my piss, then I have to drink someone else's.
But that's for another day, I guess.
DAY TWO:
I've been locked up now for six days, and today, I found out what it will take to get the key back: I have to go through the alphabet. If I do more than one letter a day, then I'll get it faster. But if not, I have another twenty six days until I can have any hope of release.
The bathroom incident last week counted for several letters: A (anonymous encounter); B (blow job, butt plug, and bisexuality); C (chastity device); D (degradation, deep throating, double penetration); F (face fucking), and a bunch of others.
But, since I skipped E, that's where I have to start; nothing else counts. So today, I have to do something that starts with E. And I have to write about it in my journal. In fact, I have to write about all of it in my journal. That's part of the rules.
So today, I went out and got a pair of latex shorts. They stretch, but they're nice and tight around my legs. Which is good, because before I left for work, I gave myself an enema. It's still there (held in by the shorts and a butt plug), and my stomach is cramped as all hell. But it was just warm water, so sooner or later my body will absorb it. Already the pain is lessening.
But while it was still there, I decided to try to get F out of the way. For that, I needed the help of Trudy, the girl who works in the sex shop I go to. She has great feet, and today she was wearing open sandals. She was kind enough to let me lick her feet and suck on her toes while she waited on another customer (which technically gives me exhibitionism as well). She said she'd be happy to help with my alphabet; I'm supposed to come back to her for at least S and T.
We'll see how it goes.
One thing I know for sure: later on, Trudy is going to help me with G. She said she needed time to drink some water, but as soon as I finish posting this, I'm going back there and she's going to give me a golden shower. She said she'd do it as long as I promised to let it dry naturally and just go back to work.
I'm going to stink, I think.
DAY THREE:
Every day I'm locked up I get hornier, but to get unlocked, I have to do things that make it even worse. I think that's the point. By the time I get to Z, I'll probably agree to anything just to be able to cum.
But to get to Z, I have to go through the rest of the alphabet. I just got back from doing a couple of the others.
I only had one hour for lunch, so I had to hurry. But I slipped out a little early, so I had no trouble arriving on time. I knocked on the door while kneeling, and when the door opened, I crawled inside without looking up.
The hood was pulled over my head, then locked on by a collar. It's a tight hood, with a zipper over the mouth and no holes for eyes. A blindfold that covers my entire head.
Hood wasn't enough of an H, though. So I had my mouth open, begging to be used as a human toilet, and then being grateful as I swallowed all the piss.
I got on my back, as I was told, and my legs were pulled up and apart, leaving me wide open. I tried to contract from the cold of the ice cube, but there was no hope. Two cubes, then three, then a plug to keep them inside. I was breathing hard and fast, but that didn't matter.
Not much choice for J. Japanese bondage. It took almost twenty minutes to tie me up, but by the end, I was suspended and bent into a position much less uncomfortable than I would've imagined.
Then the kicking started. I wasn't high off the ground, apparently, because the kicks came to my side pretty solidly. Twice, the kick clipped my head and sent me spinning on the rope, but never so much as to be dangerous. Which is good, because I was completely helpless.
The kicking just kept going, leaving me literally sobbing into my hood. When I was finally let down (dropped) and untied, it felt like every muscle in my body was sore. No doubt the L had been covered: that kicking definitely Left marks. And if that wasn't enough, I'm now wearing lacy underwear and trying not to grimace every time I shift position in my chair.
I was told to leave, that the M wouldn't come until next time. I can go further if I want, counting Masochism or Male submission as my M. But if I wait until I am summoned, the M will be Mistress with a Strapon, and I'll be fucked in the ass until I cum. I'll have to lick it up, of course, but at least I'll get to cum.
So far, that's what I'm holding out for. My only options for N are Needle Play or Nipple torture; possibly both. It's more choice than I'll have for Z, but that's not comforting.
Neither is the wondering of what I will have to do for X. I was told that there are plans, and it's not a trick. But I won't have any choice that day. And "That day" was very much specified.
I'm nervous, I'm trying to get hard (but can't because of the device I'm locked in), and I've never been so excited.
DAY FOUR:
I was nervous when I was summoned. I showed up at the door, stripped, and put in the cock gag when she handed it to me. I let her cuff my hands behind my back. She led me over to the stool and bent me over it. She put clamps on my nipples, grinding them tighter and tighter until I was breathing heavily and whimpering. Then she attached the little weights.
I winced when she put the lube into my ass - it was cold - but I was grateful for it a few seconds later, when she started thrusting that ten inch monster into me. It felt like I was being ripped apart, but also felt so incredibly good; maybe I'd been locked up too long.
I strained against my cage, but it wouldn't budge. I whimpered. That made her laugh.
"Don't pretend you don't like this," she said, pushed deep inside of me. She leaned down, pressing her breasts against my back so she could whisper in my ear. "You know you love the feeling of having a cock deep in each of your holes. Admit it." She flicked the little weights hanging of the clamps. It sent another blast of sensation through me, making me gasp onto my cock gag. "You love it."
She laughed when I didn't argue.
"You are pathetic," she said, building a rhythm as she fucked me. "I can't believe you call yourself a man. You're just a cock hungry slut, wanting to be fucked" She thrust deeper than before, making me gasp, "aren't you?"
She kept on like that, laughing at me, asking why I bothered to tell people I was straight, why I even agreed to be bisexual. She called me a fag, told me that all I was good for was sucking cock and getting fucked.
It didn't take long. Between the talking and the pressure on my prostate, I came, and I came HARD. All over the kitchen floor, blasting out through my cage and giving me an orgasm that nearly had me passing out.
She pulled out, still laughing, and pulled the gag out of my mouth. "Disgusting," she said. "You got my dildo all dirty." She reached one hand under my chin and lifted my head up. "Lick it clean," she said.
Once she had her fill of fucking my face, reminding me that the cock I was sucking had been inside my ass a few seconds ago, she let me get off the stool. "I'll uncuff you when you finish licking up all that cum," she said, gesturing at what was by now the cold remnants of my orgasm. "Go ahead," she said. "Don't pretend you don't want to. It's okay."
It never seems to taste the same twice. Sometimes it's salty, sometimes the texture is almost rubbery. Sometimes it's completely tasteless. It also tastes different cold. Can't really describe it.
But I did it. And when I did, first she unhooked the nipple clamps, laughing as the blood flowed back into them and they started hurting all over again. She played with them a little, flicking them and twisting them while I squirmed.
Finally, when the flames in my nipples had subsided, she undid my wrists. I rolled my shoulders, trying to get loose. She got up and sat behind me, giving me a bit of a massage.
"You know," she said, "You really should get those pierced. You have the greatest nipples for piercing." She kissed me on the head.
I laughed. "Did you have fun?" I asked.
She laughed too. "Hell yeah I had fun. And don't even try to say you didn't."
"It was unexpected," I said. "The cleaning, I mean."
"Yeah." She leaned around so I could see the evil grin on her face. "I was just trying to help."
"What do you mean?"
"M is for Mistress with strapon. N is for nipple clamps and torture. O is for oral sex, orgasm control, and objectification."
I shook my head.
"Oh, yeah. And P is for Play rape, Pain, and Prostate milking."
"Wow."
She came around and sat in front of me, unhooking her strap on and pulling part of it from inside her. "If you want, we can get Q is for Queening out of the way too." Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "It's only fair," she said. "You came, so I should. And if you do a good job, I'll stop before you pass out." She pushed onto my back and straddled my face. Every so often, she'd get up a little so I could breathe, then grind back down on me.
It wasn't exactly fair. I came once. She came three times. Then she pissed in my mouth when she was done. I lay there for a little while while she got dressed, tussled my hair, and told me to "Get the fuck out of here."
So now I'm done up to Q. Tonight, I'll be Restrained all night with a Remote controlled vibrator stuck inside me. Which will eventually bring me to S.
So many options for S...
DAY EIGHT:
The last four days have been intense. No doubt about that.
It began with R, for Restraint. I spent most of Thursday night and all of Friday unable to really move.
It began Thursday night, when I received very specific orders. I was to leave the door to my apartment unlocked, strip naked, and handcuff myself to the bed with a blindfold on.
I was laying there for what felt like hours before he showed up. I didn't know he was there until I felt my legs being lifted up and tied to the head board. But once that happened, I knew he was there, and I knew what he was going to do. After the other day, I was just grateful he was using lube.
I came again by the time he was done. It hit my face, across my lips and on my cheek. I would've wiped it off, but I couldn't; with my legs bound where they were, I could barely even shift my neck. So instead, with the smell strongly in my nose, I had to wait to be let free.
But that didn't happen right away. In fact, it didn't happen until he'd used me two more times, until my own cum had dried on my face and his had dried on its way up my chest.
By the time I was let go, I was so sore that I couldn't really move. I was allowed to lay on the floor, and eventually drifted off to sleep.
Friday came with Saran Wrap. First around my arms, then around my chest, then around my arms and chest together. Each leg wrapped separately, then wrapped together. I was not cleaned off before hand.
One of his dirty socks was put in my mouth, and I spent most of Friday on the floor like that. They smoked in my apartment, they laughed at me, and occasionally they nudged me with a boot, just to tease me.
The saran wrap was hot. I was sweating almost immediately. But they left me in it for hours, until I was whimpering.
Then they let me go, and the weekend really began. I was thirsty, so desperately thirsty. They told me to beg to be their toilet, and I did. I begged for them to piss in my mouth, and they did, both of them. She used my face as toilet paper when she was done, and he just had me keep sucking once the piss was gone. I went through the same little ritual Saturday morning.
They laughed while I was there, hands now tied behind my back with zip ties. They laughed, and they both spat in my face, saying that I was disgusting and pathetic, and they couldn't believe I was letting them do this.
All this was turning them on, so I was left, spittle dribbling down my face over the crust of my own dried cum, to watch as they had sex with each other not five feet from me. And when they were done, as their toilet, I had to clean them both up afterwards. I had to suck his cum out of her, lick them both clean, and once again accept their piss as they both tried to 'avoid infection' by pissing right after sex.
I should mention that I make an unattractive girl. That's important because after they were finally finished laughing at me, they dressed me in stockings and a skirt, a wig, and a corset. Then they put me in a maid's uniform. Better uniform than Urethral sounds, I suppose.
There was no real end in sight, not until Saturday night. They cut my arms free, gave me a shower, and told me how impressed they were with me. They loved that I did all this without complaint, that I was going through everything they were putting me through. They told me that they love me, that I'm a valuable part of their relationship, and they're glad they found me.
Then they put a vibrator in my ass and laid me down on their vacuum bed.
It's a strange experience. The rubber feels like a second skin, and the breathing through the tube takes getting used to. But mostly it's just a complete lack of mobility. I couldn't so much as bend a finger once the bed was locked into place. It was oddly relaxing.
There was no whipping or anything while I was in the bed. Those beds are expensive, and no one wanted to rip it. I couldn't really hear anything, but when they let me out the next morning, I wasn't surprised to hear them call me their little piss whore, and demanding the same service. So I drank her piss, and she ground herself against my face for a little while. Then I drank his and sucked him clean afterwards.
After that was done, they let me get dressed and sent me home. I'm almost done. We've done the alphabet up to W. V for Vacuum bed and Vibrator, W for water sports and Writing erotica (which is what I'm doing right now).
The trouble is, there's nothing on the list that starts with X or Y. But this morning they told me they have an idea, and they're trying to organize it.
I guess I'll see tonight. I'm excited, but scared. At least for Z I know what I'm getting into. Zentai is the only thing we have that starts with Z. And after a vacuum bed, Zentai doesn't worry me.
But then... Then I'll be unlocked. I've cum three times since it was locked on. It's harder than I expected.
One more day. Maybe two.
DAY NINE:
XY. Chromosomes.
There were five of them total. They took viagra.
She wore heels, walking me to the plastic mat in the bathroom. She put a noseplug on me, then invited the boys in. She watched as they fucked my mouth a little, as they made me jerk them off, and as they came on me. On my lips, in my hair, on my face, in my mouth. It felt like hours. Everyone came five or six times. My eyes were closed by the cum, and it was literally dripping off me.
Well, almost everyone. I didn't. I'm still locked in my cage, so no matter how horny I got, there was nothing to be done for it.
I begged her to let me out when they left. I begged her. She laughed at me and told me to clean myself off. Once I did, she gave me the Zentai suit.
Zentai is a skin tight suit. Mine is black. It covers every inch of my body, and while I can see, breathe, and hear through it, it looks like I have no features. I am a non-person, which she says is the point.
I spent the rest of the night, all the way until about two in the morning, serving them as a non-person. I wasn't allowed to speak, only to act. So I acted. I acted as a table, as a foot rest, as a pillow. I got them food and drink, not getting any for myself. I was a door mat. For a while, I was an end table, with the phone sitting on my back while she chatted with her family.
Eventually, when they decided to go to bed, I was left as a non-person, a shadow in the corner of the closet.
But then, when I woke up, she let me out. And I mean let me out completely. I became a person once more, my cage unlocked, and I was allowed to cum. A lot. She made me cum half a dozen times, into a cup.
Tonight, I have to drink the cup, or I'll be locked up all over again, this time for a full month.
I don't think I'd make it. So I will drink.
And I'll drink to freedom.
Sort of.
Please comment. Especially if you like it.
DAY ONE:
This morning, I was given orders. With my cock firmly locked in its brand new cage, I was to insert the big plug into my ass before work. The day would be spent bound and full, and I was not to go to the bathroom at work. I had to-- well, let me just tell you what happened.
I went to a bar for lunch. It was supposed to be a 'dive' bar, and it was. I ordered really greasy food, hoping the plug would keep things in when my stomach turned. I drank two beers right away, as I was told. It wasn't long before I had to go to the bathroom.
So into a stall I went. I closed it behind me, but didn't lock it: slaves apparently don't GET privacy. The best I could do was lean against the door while I pissed.
It sounded odd going into my water bottle. I didn't think it was at all possible that someone would mistake the sound for me using the actual toilet.
When he came in, I heard him stop and listen. I heard the chuckle. Then the door shook a little when he wrapped on it with his knuckle.
I screwed the top back on the bottle, zipped myself up, and opened the stall.
He wasn't an attractive man, but I've seen worse. The lecherous smile on his face was almost infectious as he looked at the bottle in my hand, my cock shriveled in its cage, and then over at the toilet, empty and unused.
He stepped past me and sat down. I wondered if this was a setup; did he KNOW about my orders? When he pulled his pants down to his ankles to use the toilet, it seemed like he did. When he pulled out his cock and waved me forward, I was certain.
He farted as he came in my mouth. Then he patted me on the head and told me to go ahead and swallow. He asked if I'd be there again tomorrow. I didn't answer, but I think we both knew.
Back to work, water bottle in hand. For the rest of the day, I was to drink from the bottle. If I had to go again, all I could do was refill.
According to the rules, there was only one way I could avoid it: if I don't want to drink my piss, then I have to drink someone else's.
But that's for another day, I guess.
DAY TWO:
I've been locked up now for six days, and today, I found out what it will take to get the key back: I have to go through the alphabet. If I do more than one letter a day, then I'll get it faster. But if not, I have another twenty six days until I can have any hope of release.
The bathroom incident last week counted for several letters: A (anonymous encounter); B (blow job, butt plug, and bisexuality); C (chastity device); D (degradation, deep throating, double penetration); F (face fucking), and a bunch of others.
But, since I skipped E, that's where I have to start; nothing else counts. So today, I have to do something that starts with E. And I have to write about it in my journal. In fact, I have to write about all of it in my journal. That's part of the rules.
So today, I went out and got a pair of latex shorts. They stretch, but they're nice and tight around my legs. Which is good, because before I left for work, I gave myself an enema. It's still there (held in by the shorts and a butt plug), and my stomach is cramped as all hell. But it was just warm water, so sooner or later my body will absorb it. Already the pain is lessening.
But while it was still there, I decided to try to get F out of the way. For that, I needed the help of Trudy, the girl who works in the sex shop I go to. She has great feet, and today she was wearing open sandals. She was kind enough to let me lick her feet and suck on her toes while she waited on another customer (which technically gives me exhibitionism as well). She said she'd be happy to help with my alphabet; I'm supposed to come back to her for at least S and T.
We'll see how it goes.
One thing I know for sure: later on, Trudy is going to help me with G. She said she needed time to drink some water, but as soon as I finish posting this, I'm going back there and she's going to give me a golden shower. She said she'd do it as long as I promised to let it dry naturally and just go back to work.
I'm going to stink, I think.
DAY THREE:
Every day I'm locked up I get hornier, but to get unlocked, I have to do things that make it even worse. I think that's the point. By the time I get to Z, I'll probably agree to anything just to be able to cum.
But to get to Z, I have to go through the rest of the alphabet. I just got back from doing a couple of the others.
I only had one hour for lunch, so I had to hurry. But I slipped out a little early, so I had no trouble arriving on time. I knocked on the door while kneeling, and when the door opened, I crawled inside without looking up.
The hood was pulled over my head, then locked on by a collar. It's a tight hood, with a zipper over the mouth and no holes for eyes. A blindfold that covers my entire head.
Hood wasn't enough of an H, though. So I had my mouth open, begging to be used as a human toilet, and then being grateful as I swallowed all the piss.
I got on my back, as I was told, and my legs were pulled up and apart, leaving me wide open. I tried to contract from the cold of the ice cube, but there was no hope. Two cubes, then three, then a plug to keep them inside. I was breathing hard and fast, but that didn't matter.
Not much choice for J. Japanese bondage. It took almost twenty minutes to tie me up, but by the end, I was suspended and bent into a position much less uncomfortable than I would've imagined.
Then the kicking started. I wasn't high off the ground, apparently, because the kicks came to my side pretty solidly. Twice, the kick clipped my head and sent me spinning on the rope, but never so much as to be dangerous. Which is good, because I was completely helpless.
The kicking just kept going, leaving me literally sobbing into my hood. When I was finally let down (dropped) and untied, it felt like every muscle in my body was sore. No doubt the L had been covered: that kicking definitely Left marks. And if that wasn't enough, I'm now wearing lacy underwear and trying not to grimace every time I shift position in my chair.
I was told to leave, that the M wouldn't come until next time. I can go further if I want, counting Masochism or Male submission as my M. But if I wait until I am summoned, the M will be Mistress with a Strapon, and I'll be fucked in the ass until I cum. I'll have to lick it up, of course, but at least I'll get to cum.
So far, that's what I'm holding out for. My only options for N are Needle Play or Nipple torture; possibly both. It's more choice than I'll have for Z, but that's not comforting.
Neither is the wondering of what I will have to do for X. I was told that there are plans, and it's not a trick. But I won't have any choice that day. And "That day" was very much specified.
I'm nervous, I'm trying to get hard (but can't because of the device I'm locked in), and I've never been so excited.
DAY FOUR:
I was nervous when I was summoned. I showed up at the door, stripped, and put in the cock gag when she handed it to me. I let her cuff my hands behind my back. She led me over to the stool and bent me over it. She put clamps on my nipples, grinding them tighter and tighter until I was breathing heavily and whimpering. Then she attached the little weights.
I winced when she put the lube into my ass - it was cold - but I was grateful for it a few seconds later, when she started thrusting that ten inch monster into me. It felt like I was being ripped apart, but also felt so incredibly good; maybe I'd been locked up too long.
I strained against my cage, but it wouldn't budge. I whimpered. That made her laugh.
"Don't pretend you don't like this," she said, pushed deep inside of me. She leaned down, pressing her breasts against my back so she could whisper in my ear. "You know you love the feeling of having a cock deep in each of your holes. Admit it." She flicked the little weights hanging of the clamps. It sent another blast of sensation through me, making me gasp onto my cock gag. "You love it."
She laughed when I didn't argue.
"You are pathetic," she said, building a rhythm as she fucked me. "I can't believe you call yourself a man. You're just a cock hungry slut, wanting to be fucked" She thrust deeper than before, making me gasp, "aren't you?"
She kept on like that, laughing at me, asking why I bothered to tell people I was straight, why I even agreed to be bisexual. She called me a fag, told me that all I was good for was sucking cock and getting fucked.
It didn't take long. Between the talking and the pressure on my prostate, I came, and I came HARD. All over the kitchen floor, blasting out through my cage and giving me an orgasm that nearly had me passing out.
She pulled out, still laughing, and pulled the gag out of my mouth. "Disgusting," she said. "You got my dildo all dirty." She reached one hand under my chin and lifted my head up. "Lick it clean," she said.
Once she had her fill of fucking my face, reminding me that the cock I was sucking had been inside my ass a few seconds ago, she let me get off the stool. "I'll uncuff you when you finish licking up all that cum," she said, gesturing at what was by now the cold remnants of my orgasm. "Go ahead," she said. "Don't pretend you don't want to. It's okay."
It never seems to taste the same twice. Sometimes it's salty, sometimes the texture is almost rubbery. Sometimes it's completely tasteless. It also tastes different cold. Can't really describe it.
But I did it. And when I did, first she unhooked the nipple clamps, laughing as the blood flowed back into them and they started hurting all over again. She played with them a little, flicking them and twisting them while I squirmed.
Finally, when the flames in my nipples had subsided, she undid my wrists. I rolled my shoulders, trying to get loose. She got up and sat behind me, giving me a bit of a massage.
"You know," she said, "You really should get those pierced. You have the greatest nipples for piercing." She kissed me on the head.
I laughed. "Did you have fun?" I asked.
She laughed too. "Hell yeah I had fun. And don't even try to say you didn't."
"It was unexpected," I said. "The cleaning, I mean."
"Yeah." She leaned around so I could see the evil grin on her face. "I was just trying to help."
"What do you mean?"
"M is for Mistress with strapon. N is for nipple clamps and torture. O is for oral sex, orgasm control, and objectification."
I shook my head.
"Oh, yeah. And P is for Play rape, Pain, and Prostate milking."
"Wow."
She came around and sat in front of me, unhooking her strap on and pulling part of it from inside her. "If you want, we can get Q is for Queening out of the way too." Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "It's only fair," she said. "You came, so I should. And if you do a good job, I'll stop before you pass out." She pushed onto my back and straddled my face. Every so often, she'd get up a little so I could breathe, then grind back down on me.
It wasn't exactly fair. I came once. She came three times. Then she pissed in my mouth when she was done. I lay there for a little while while she got dressed, tussled my hair, and told me to "Get the fuck out of here."
So now I'm done up to Q. Tonight, I'll be Restrained all night with a Remote controlled vibrator stuck inside me. Which will eventually bring me to S.
So many options for S...
DAY EIGHT:
The last four days have been intense. No doubt about that.
It began with R, for Restraint. I spent most of Thursday night and all of Friday unable to really move.
It began Thursday night, when I received very specific orders. I was to leave the door to my apartment unlocked, strip naked, and handcuff myself to the bed with a blindfold on.
I was laying there for what felt like hours before he showed up. I didn't know he was there until I felt my legs being lifted up and tied to the head board. But once that happened, I knew he was there, and I knew what he was going to do. After the other day, I was just grateful he was using lube.
I came again by the time he was done. It hit my face, across my lips and on my cheek. I would've wiped it off, but I couldn't; with my legs bound where they were, I could barely even shift my neck. So instead, with the smell strongly in my nose, I had to wait to be let free.
But that didn't happen right away. In fact, it didn't happen until he'd used me two more times, until my own cum had dried on my face and his had dried on its way up my chest.
By the time I was let go, I was so sore that I couldn't really move. I was allowed to lay on the floor, and eventually drifted off to sleep.
Friday came with Saran Wrap. First around my arms, then around my chest, then around my arms and chest together. Each leg wrapped separately, then wrapped together. I was not cleaned off before hand.
One of his dirty socks was put in my mouth, and I spent most of Friday on the floor like that. They smoked in my apartment, they laughed at me, and occasionally they nudged me with a boot, just to tease me.
The saran wrap was hot. I was sweating almost immediately. But they left me in it for hours, until I was whimpering.
Then they let me go, and the weekend really began. I was thirsty, so desperately thirsty. They told me to beg to be their toilet, and I did. I begged for them to piss in my mouth, and they did, both of them. She used my face as toilet paper when she was done, and he just had me keep sucking once the piss was gone. I went through the same little ritual Saturday morning.
They laughed while I was there, hands now tied behind my back with zip ties. They laughed, and they both spat in my face, saying that I was disgusting and pathetic, and they couldn't believe I was letting them do this.
All this was turning them on, so I was left, spittle dribbling down my face over the crust of my own dried cum, to watch as they had sex with each other not five feet from me. And when they were done, as their toilet, I had to clean them both up afterwards. I had to suck his cum out of her, lick them both clean, and once again accept their piss as they both tried to 'avoid infection' by pissing right after sex.
I should mention that I make an unattractive girl. That's important because after they were finally finished laughing at me, they dressed me in stockings and a skirt, a wig, and a corset. Then they put me in a maid's uniform. Better uniform than Urethral sounds, I suppose.
There was no real end in sight, not until Saturday night. They cut my arms free, gave me a shower, and told me how impressed they were with me. They loved that I did all this without complaint, that I was going through everything they were putting me through. They told me that they love me, that I'm a valuable part of their relationship, and they're glad they found me.
Then they put a vibrator in my ass and laid me down on their vacuum bed.
It's a strange experience. The rubber feels like a second skin, and the breathing through the tube takes getting used to. But mostly it's just a complete lack of mobility. I couldn't so much as bend a finger once the bed was locked into place. It was oddly relaxing.
There was no whipping or anything while I was in the bed. Those beds are expensive, and no one wanted to rip it. I couldn't really hear anything, but when they let me out the next morning, I wasn't surprised to hear them call me their little piss whore, and demanding the same service. So I drank her piss, and she ground herself against my face for a little while. Then I drank his and sucked him clean afterwards.
After that was done, they let me get dressed and sent me home. I'm almost done. We've done the alphabet up to W. V for Vacuum bed and Vibrator, W for water sports and Writing erotica (which is what I'm doing right now).
The trouble is, there's nothing on the list that starts with X or Y. But this morning they told me they have an idea, and they're trying to organize it.
I guess I'll see tonight. I'm excited, but scared. At least for Z I know what I'm getting into. Zentai is the only thing we have that starts with Z. And after a vacuum bed, Zentai doesn't worry me.
But then... Then I'll be unlocked. I've cum three times since it was locked on. It's harder than I expected.
One more day. Maybe two.
DAY NINE:
XY. Chromosomes.
There were five of them total. They took viagra.
She wore heels, walking me to the plastic mat in the bathroom. She put a noseplug on me, then invited the boys in. She watched as they fucked my mouth a little, as they made me jerk them off, and as they came on me. On my lips, in my hair, on my face, in my mouth. It felt like hours. Everyone came five or six times. My eyes were closed by the cum, and it was literally dripping off me.
Well, almost everyone. I didn't. I'm still locked in my cage, so no matter how horny I got, there was nothing to be done for it.
I begged her to let me out when they left. I begged her. She laughed at me and told me to clean myself off. Once I did, she gave me the Zentai suit.
Zentai is a skin tight suit. Mine is black. It covers every inch of my body, and while I can see, breathe, and hear through it, it looks like I have no features. I am a non-person, which she says is the point.
I spent the rest of the night, all the way until about two in the morning, serving them as a non-person. I wasn't allowed to speak, only to act. So I acted. I acted as a table, as a foot rest, as a pillow. I got them food and drink, not getting any for myself. I was a door mat. For a while, I was an end table, with the phone sitting on my back while she chatted with her family.
Eventually, when they decided to go to bed, I was left as a non-person, a shadow in the corner of the closet.
But then, when I woke up, she let me out. And I mean let me out completely. I became a person once more, my cage unlocked, and I was allowed to cum. A lot. She made me cum half a dozen times, into a cup.
Tonight, I have to drink the cup, or I'll be locked up all over again, this time for a full month.
I don't think I'd make it. So I will drink.
And I'll drink to freedom.
Sort of.
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