Pamela your perverted programmer here, and I've done something else stupid.
I'm somewhere a half hour into stupid.
Oh God do my poor privates hurt.
I'm taking a short break. While I'm doing it, I'll tell you all about it.
I like having to do something to get out of self bondage. The 'tie myself up and wait' thing gets old.
So I'm in the basement rec room. A place I'll remain a while.
You see, I'm wearing a collar. It's got me chained to a shackle in the center of the room by a ten foot chain.
The keys to release me are inside a magnet drop on the ceiling. And that's controlled by a computer outside the room.
My hands are in soft cuffs, padlocked on, behind me. The cuffs are padlocked to a chain around my waist.
I can easily reach the padlocks, but it does me no good without the key. My hands are pretty much stuck where they'd be in handcuffs. I was going to use handcuffs, but thought they'd get painful in a bad way after a while. I have to move around.
That's not easy. I've got a spreader bar between my thighs. In the middle of it is my instrument of self abuse.
Stupid me. I've lashed the dildoifier in the middle of the spreader. Definition - dildoifier, a stick with a silicone dildo on one end, long enough to reach my knees when it's in the obvious position. The actual dildo is the kind with a big base - I don't want impaled if I slip. The magic's on the other end. There's a sticker with a bar code on the lower end of the stick.
I have a shallow platform on my rumpus room floor. It's padded - I don't see any reason to be uncomfortable while torturing myself.
It's got two holes, just big enough for the stick, about three feet apart.
To get out it's really simple - I have to stick the stick in one hole and push down hard enough to activate a switch. Clamp and lift up until the bar code disappears. Repeat 20 strokes in 20 seconds. Then I have to do the same with the other hole.
And, only 20 short repetitions of this activity later, I'll be free. Nrrrgh.
I've thought about other ways. Believe me, I've thought about other ways. With my hands behind my back, I can't reach the dildoifier. I'm wearing high heels, I really can't do anything with my feet. I'm wearing a ball gag - the kind with extra straps up to a strap over my head - so that's out.
I'm wearing stockings and a garter belt. I can't get the high heels off, they have little buckle ankles.
I'm not crazy, by the way. There's a spare set of keys in easy reach. Those, unfortunately, can only be retrieved by pulling on a big ring. Doing that also sets off a really, really loud alarm. One I can only silence in the upstairs bedroom, several unlockings and two flights of stairs wearing the spreader later.
So, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to work.
I'd like to be out of this by midnight.
I'm somewhere a half hour into stupid.
Oh God do my poor privates hurt.
I'm taking a short break. While I'm doing it, I'll tell you all about it.
I like having to do something to get out of self bondage. The 'tie myself up and wait' thing gets old.
So I'm in the basement rec room. A place I'll remain a while.
You see, I'm wearing a collar. It's got me chained to a shackle in the center of the room by a ten foot chain.
The keys to release me are inside a magnet drop on the ceiling. And that's controlled by a computer outside the room.
My hands are in soft cuffs, padlocked on, behind me. The cuffs are padlocked to a chain around my waist.
I can easily reach the padlocks, but it does me no good without the key. My hands are pretty much stuck where they'd be in handcuffs. I was going to use handcuffs, but thought they'd get painful in a bad way after a while. I have to move around.
That's not easy. I've got a spreader bar between my thighs. In the middle of it is my instrument of self abuse.
Stupid me. I've lashed the dildoifier in the middle of the spreader. Definition - dildoifier, a stick with a silicone dildo on one end, long enough to reach my knees when it's in the obvious position. The actual dildo is the kind with a big base - I don't want impaled if I slip. The magic's on the other end. There's a sticker with a bar code on the lower end of the stick.
I have a shallow platform on my rumpus room floor. It's padded - I don't see any reason to be uncomfortable while torturing myself.
It's got two holes, just big enough for the stick, about three feet apart.
To get out it's really simple - I have to stick the stick in one hole and push down hard enough to activate a switch. Clamp and lift up until the bar code disappears. Repeat 20 strokes in 20 seconds. Then I have to do the same with the other hole.
And, only 20 short repetitions of this activity later, I'll be free. Nrrrgh.
I've thought about other ways. Believe me, I've thought about other ways. With my hands behind my back, I can't reach the dildoifier. I'm wearing high heels, I really can't do anything with my feet. I'm wearing a ball gag - the kind with extra straps up to a strap over my head - so that's out.
I'm wearing stockings and a garter belt. I can't get the high heels off, they have little buckle ankles.
I'm not crazy, by the way. There's a spare set of keys in easy reach. Those, unfortunately, can only be retrieved by pulling on a big ring. Doing that also sets off a really, really loud alarm. One I can only silence in the upstairs bedroom, several unlockings and two flights of stairs wearing the spreader later.
So, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to work.
I'd like to be out of this by midnight.
