I’m back from cyber space, Y’All!  Lol.  Not really.  That’s a level I still haven’t achieved yet.  But I must say, this particular rig is a for sure a ticket there.  At least it would be given time and the correct environmental elements.  

I want to share just a bit of post-session matters before I go back and provide my first-person account of the limit testing bondage session.  First of all, my directions/orders were to report back to @Crab-Hermit as soon as I escaped from my boxtie.  FYI, it took about 20 minutes from the time the power turned off for me to actually get my hands free.  The Penetrating Dildo Piston (PDP) was set up on a “Christmas Light” timer that allows me to have it turn off or on in 5-minute intervals.  So, it wasn’t working on my remote-control power outlets.  By the way, that’s totally screwing with my outside Christmas decorations, but baby Jesus understands.  I swear to God, he understands.

As for the air mat that had me locked down on my face and unable to reach the tactical tourniquet, the key to releasing me from the box tie, that turned off at approximately 10:45 AM.  The massage wand was plugged into the same outlet, so it turned off then as well.  It took the mat about a minute to deflate enough for my collar tether to relax.  Although it took me at least five minutes for me to recover enough to start the process of “inch-worming” myself backwards so I could kneel up again.  Remember that even though the mat was deflated, I still had to drag it by the tether attached to my collar to the point that I could use my lower back to lift my check up off the floor.  The whole time I was doing that, the PDP was still “resting” inside my who-ha.  (Ever heard it called that?  I bet not!  That’s a Grandma Josephine original!  LOL)  

After some careful wiggling back toward my yoga mat resting cylinder, I had to lift up a few times half-way up to slide the deflated air mat underneath my chest.  Once it’s girth was beneath me instead of out in front of me, I had enough leverage to lift myself upright and then lean back into an arch.  Once I found the tourniquet lever with my fingers, it was a simple matter to “pop” it out of its clasp, and then the tension in the wrist cinch ropes sprung the whole rope coil loose and I was able to get untied easily from there.

Hey, do Y’All find these kinds of details interesting?  I’ve been including this stuff to help folks visualize the whole thing, but I can cut back and focus on the grunting and screaming instead.  Let me know, K?  K!

OK, I got free and I grabbed my phone and reported in.  A few moments, and few statements of praise from my Dom (He told me I was a good girl…he may have even said VERY good.  Don’t remember, but either way, I get ALLLLL of the good feels getting told I’m a good girl!), he told me about part 2 of the session.  Hold the fuck up!  (Didn’t say that to him but I sure thought it.)  Part 2 you say???

For Part 2, I had to write up this report of the first session and publish it.  And then, after publishing, go look at the picture he created of me all “0-facing” tied up like a blonde little sausage, see how many favorites it had at that moment, and then set myself up in the exact same rig for the number of minutes as favorites the picture had.  So, I’m still writing, and the count it up to 55 so far, so I already have a session almost as long as the Part 1 coming up in the next hour or so once I get this report published.  

The dilemma I was faced with, shit…that I still AM faced with, is this: do I half-ass my write up and make session 2 easier, or do I believe in artistic integrity and write up my best-quality work produce, knowing it will leave me a helpless fuck bunny that much longer.  I couldn’t make such a decision on an empty stomach.  So, I went and got a sandwich.  From Subway.  And I don’t really even like Subway.  Read into that what you will.  Tee Hee!

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Hey Y’All!  I’m back again.  The favorite count is now 65, so I better bare down and get this puppy published.  Here’s the art from @crab-hermit.  He just nails.  The only major differences were that I was wearing a blindfold, I didn’t have blue rope (I used brown rope) and my heels aren’t nearly as nice as the ones he drew.  I’m more of a boots and gym-er’s girl.  Anyway, here’s the image:

I’m kneeling as per the directions my Master.  I’d just finished cranking the tourniquet as far was I could.  I had to stretch my fingers at the end to reach it and get it seated inside its locking clasp.  Honestly, I not 100% sure I’ll be able to reach it to get out once this is finished.  This is about testing my limits, so that little added bit of stress was welcome.  The ropes on my wrists have them welded together.  I can’t see them behind me, but I imagine just a mass of super tight rubber bands forming a “glob” that perfectly molds to my arms.  And then that “glob” is encased in a steel vice that’s compressing the whole thing.  It feels like it’s getting tighter by the moment.  I wouldn’t be able to pull my hands through even if my arms weren’t pinned tight against my sides.  Which they are.  And the interesting thing I used to pass the time as I waited for the mat to inflate and slam me down and forward onto my face was that this was all held together by a little plastic lever.  That’s all.  I am completely and utterly helpless because a once-ounce piece of plastic wrapped around strings is wedged into another little piece of plastic.  And I could through myself into a total life or death struggle with everything I had, and I STILL would be helpless.  Like, not even slightly less helpless.  All because of this very, very small object.  That’s interesting, right?

BUUUZZZZZ!  I somehow forgot about the wand.  I was so busy anticipating the physical force of the mat that the wand had slipped my mind.  It came alive at the less intense, medium, setting.  Medium is still strong, mind you!  Especially so when I’m practically sitting on the wand.  I’m still able to lean back off of my yoga mat sushi roll a little, but once I’m pulled down on it, I’ll have my weight pushing right down on the wand.  

I can’t see the mat inflating out in front of me, but I can feel the tether from my collar slither forward away from my bare chest, where it had been resting.  For no particular reason, I decide to hold myself upright for however long I can, rather than simple surrender to the first, more gentle tugging from the mat.  I hold out for a few moments before I feel the mat snap and lurch.  As it gains rigidity it acts like a lever.  I can’t resist any more and the mat and I collapse onto the ground.  

At this point, my I pulled tightly between my securing anchored ankles and my tightly tethered neck.  The wadded-up T-shirt in my mouth is getting wetter than my partially parted pussy lips.  The PDP is right where it is supposed be, peaking inside, lining itself up.  Thinking about the stand mixer being locked and loaded behind me, a mindless object, preparing to start driving a cock into me, hits me hard for “reasons.”  There’s nobody controlling the remote.  There’s no emergency escape for me.  I can’t change my mind.  I can’t beg anyone to give me a break and to go easy on me.  This compact, powerful machine is going to start ramming me.  

“MMMMffffffffffaaaaaaaaa.”

My moaning rings in my ears as though it’s coming from someone else.  The wand is providing a deeply satisfying warmth.  From the hips down, I can’t move an inch.  I’m pressed into the soft cushions and anchored down at the key flex points.  All I can do….

“YYaaahhhhhhheee!!”  

I haven’t had penetration in a while.  Kyle and I had stopped having sex for quite some time, and to be honest, we hadn’t been having much even when we were still “hot” for each other.  

“Thunk-thunk.  Thunk-thunk.  Thunk-thunk.”

“Fuuchkkkk…..Ohh Gowwwddd.”

The PDP is at speed instantly.  I wasn’t expecting such a profound pressure, considering the dildo was already starting off on in my threshold.  But I was wrong.  It’s girth pushing deeper inside, filling me, and then retreating and leaving me empty in an instant, is sending me out of my mind.  I bite down and feel the slosh of my wet gag.  My upper body is only free to twist slightly, held taught by the collar tether.

“Clock…Clock…..”

“Oooooooooo.  RRRRRhggmmmm.”  It stopped pounding me.  It hadn’t seemed five minutes but it must have been.  The pause isn’t relief.  The machine stopped with the dildo inserted all the way.  It’s against my walls and all the way into the back of me.  I’m sopping wet from my juices and from the heavy coating of lube I’d applied to myself and the cock.  I feel like I could find satisfaction if there were just some way for me to move my hips or my ass to slide on it’s length.  Like the lever for the tourniquet, the huge member is right there.  It’s exactly where it needs to be.  But I’m helpless to use it.  I’m the object.  I’m the “thing” that’s been left unattended to wait until my owner needs me for something.

“Swushh….Flook….flook…thook…thunk….”

“Oh fuck….Lord….ohhhh.”  There’s no way that was five minutes.  My tether snaps as I involuntarily pull back hard.  The pressure on the back of my neck is painful as my collar arrests my snap motion.  My cheek lands in a pool of drool on the mat.  I don’t even care.  

“Buuuzzzzzzz”

I’m screaming now with abandon.  The gag barely stifles a decibel, but I feel if pinching the sides of my mouth as I open wide to cry out.  The surface stimulation and the hard, heavy throbbing penetration is too much.  I’ve crashed and I’m cumming hard.  It’s glorious.  I hope that doesn’t sound self-congratulatory, but that’s the only word that comes.  I feel like my body is the source of all light and warmth in the world.  I’m radiating.  I’m shaking.  

“Shunk….shunk….shunk….shunk….”  each pass is followed by another.  And another.

“Funk….funk…funk….”  I swear it’s picking up speed, but it can’t be.  I have no idea what my hands are doing.  I know my ass is clenching and relaxing, over and over with the PDP.  My breathing is a rapid pant.  I am a thoughtless thing now.  

“Bbbbbuuuuuzzzzzzz,” it has to be almost over.  I’m now only noticing the wand when the PDP is paused.  I’ve gone limp.  My legs have lost all of there strength.  They don’t even twitch anymore.  I’m held up by the Yoga mat cylinder.  The rest of me sinks into the soft objects surrounding me.  

My only anchor thought that keeps me in the present is my certainty that the session is a test.  It’s been carefully planned.  It serves a purpose.  I tell remind myself that.  This is to push me.  This is not to break me.  I’m turning into a puddle, but I won’t remain that way.  Not from this.  

“Chunk….chunk….chunk….chunk,” the PDP sounds sloppy and wet as it probes me.  In and out.  In and out.   I’ve screamed and came, blind from my blindfold and from total sensory overload.  My master told me to cum hard and scream loudly.  I hope I did.  I think I did, but I can’t remember with specificity.  

I know for certain that I stopped struggling.  I think I must have stopped struggling very early on.  I think I was overwhelmed by the totality of the combines forces put in play to restrain and to dominate me.  

I’m become aware of a calm.  It’s gotten quiet.  The machines have stopped and I’m still a thing.  I’m trying to locate my arms.  I remember planning out how they’d be important for when the session ended but I wasn’t quite sure yet how so.  

I’m spent.  I’m dripping.  And I want to answer my master.  

I feel so correct right now.  I don’t need to remember anything or decide anything.  From now until the cobwebs clear, I’m what I’m meant to be.  I’m a servant.  I’m a slave.  I’m a delight from my Dom.  I’m whatever he wants me to be.  

I’m so perfectly peaceful now.  I wish this feeling would stayforever.  What I wouldn’t give.  

I curl up as tightly as I can, sorry that I’m no longer owned.  But grateful beyond words for this taste of heaven.