A Femdom Bachelorette Pt. 06 - Sex Stories

A Femdom Bachelorette Pt. 06

... indeed soaking wet. I stuck my fingers in, teasing her clit with my thumb. A small moan escaped her mouth. "Uh huh, I said, thought so, thought so." I took my hand out and smeared that across her face too.

"yeh-oh," I heard her say. I snapped to attention and dropped down.

"Talk to me," I said.

"Hands fell asleep a few minutes ago and I need to change that up."

"Otherwise?" I asked.

"Loving this." I went in the back pocket of my pants for the snips and removed the zip ties on her arms. I decided to just let this pass without comment instead of trying to work in some logic to it. I left the basement room, grabbed the female-sized leather cuffs off the gear rack and returned, quickly fastening on the padded cuffs and locking her hands together behind her back.

I leaned in close and whispered in her ear. "The thing is, I know you're a filthy little slut. And deep down inside, you know you're a filthy little slut. But there's this pesky little ego in the way, this bitchy little part of your brain that wants to think you're something more than a set of holes to be stuffed whenever someone superior wants to stuff them. We're going to address that part of your brain. We're going to kill it, and all that will be left is a willing little cock socket."

"huck you" she said through the gag. I said nothing and moved around the room for a chair, a cinder block, the key to the collar I had thrown, and a few lengths of rope. I stood on the chair to reach a d-ring I had ...

... anchored through the ceiling. Looping a rope through the d-ring, I tied the other end to her wrist cuffs and unlocked the heavy iron collar. I pulled on the rope, dragging her into position underneath the anchor point. Picking up a cinder block from the floor, I placed it in front of her. I quickly made a hitch above her hands and took some slack out of the line. She could probably move a fair bit at this point, and if she wanted to she could kick me, but I got the sense that at this point she would be along for the ride. Using a thinner rope, I connected the two nipple clamps to the cinder block and again put in a hitch and took some slack out of it. I went back to her hands and levered them up to a position I thought should be juuuuuust outside of a painful height. I then went back to the cinder block and shortened that line so that there was a lot of tension pulling down on the nipple clamps. She cried out in pain.

"It's simple," I said. "If your nipples hurt just lean forward." She did so and her arms took on a significantly sharper angle and she cried out again. "Hmm," I said, "Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you're screwed no matter what you do."

I retrieved my beer from the table, picked up the chair, and sat down a few feet away from her. It was a gorgeous sight, and I just sat there for a moment, watching her move the tension from one point to the other, the bells jingling, her drool leaking out on to the floor, her feet shuffling around as she struggled with the fact ...