Fantasy For Emma Ch. 01

I am to be the maker of my own punishment.

HE lifts my bound arms above my head, hooks the pulley under the ropes at my wrists and hauls the block and tackle upwards.

I hang there, suspended, my arms taking the strain.

Even with the obscene shoes with which HE has shod me I can hardly touch the floor.

I strain downwards to maintain my balance.

My arms strain upward, suspended from the ceiling.

HE gives me a gentle push and I sway gently from side to side.

Then HE takes the ropes at my ankles and loops them one at a time to the rings whose installation in the floor I, yes I, had ordered..

HE pulls the ropes through the loops, one at a time and my legs splay outwards.

HE fastens my feet tightly and I hang there, open, gaping, a sexual peace symbol, suspended

from the roof.

I am not ashamed of my crucifixion in the air.

I am afraid, but I am not ashamed.

And I am aroused.

I look in the mirror and I am glorious, head, wrists, ankles, hips and waist bound in leather, rope and lace.

I feel my open stretched cunt begin to juice, my nipples start to rise and harden.

HE notices my arousal.

HE is aware of my pointing nipples.

HE is ready to deal with them also.

From the bag, cotton thread.

HE breaks off a length.

HE winds it tightly round the base of my budding, aching right nipple and knots it tightly.

HE repeats it on the left teat.

HE passes the threads through the rings that hold my splayed ankles, gathers the ends in his hands and . . .

Pulls.

And ties.

"Aaaahhhhhh!!"

The threads pull my nipples downwards and outwards.

My nipples pull my pendulous tits away from my body.

I can strain upwards slightly.

But if I push upwards too much the threads become tighter.

As if to demonstrate . . .

HE reaches under my gaping crotch

Encloses my leaking cunt with his hands

And lifts

The threads pull on my nipples.

They elongate.

I groan.

They feel as if they are about to be pulled from the crown of my tits, my swelling, spreading tits.

My tits . . .

HE is ready to deal with those as well.

HE wraps thin, nylon cord in a figure of eight around the base of both breasts.

HE pulls the bindings tightly together forcing my tit bags inward at the base.

My already swelling breasts balloon obscenely with the pressure.

My tits, my lovely soft tits are on fire.

HE takes the two cord ends that meet in a knot at the very depths of my cleavage.

HE loops them through the spaced rings in the ceiling and pulls them through.

Once more HE binds the base of my breasts with the cord.

The added pressure causes my titties to swell even further.

HE ties them off.

And in the mirror I see myself hanging.

Hanging by my aching arms.

And hanging by my reddening inflated tits.

HE has me trussed and suspended.

HE has me bound and open.

HE has me in his power.

Yet in my submission, even in my pain

I love him for debasing me so

For making me his slave.

As my body, gaping, complying, strains against the multitude of pressures, each one cancelling

the other, each one causing my limbs, my tits, my vulva to ache and stretch.

I groan.

Yes, it is a groan to ease my tortured body

But it is also a groan of lust

A groan of desire

A desire for him to take me further to the edges of sexual madness, of sexual craving, of

sexual need.

HE does not let me down.

Once more, the bag divulges its contents.

This time a pair of dildos emerges from the bag to debase me further.

They are unequal twins, ten inches in length, heads of shining. silvery metal, bodies of fleshy,

pliable rubber, wires trailing from their bases to a small box surmounted by three dials.

The larger of the two is as wide as an arm.

The smaller thinner, the width of a large thumb.

HE lays them on the floor beneath my open cunt, between my splayed legs, next to a belt-like

strip of leather that culminate in rings at both ends.

HE greases the large dildo

And plunges it upwards into my waiting, begging cunt.

"UNNNNNNNGGGHHH"

The dildo spreads my cunt to extremes I cannot believe.

Now HE greases the small dildo.

And deeply penetrates my recently deflowered ass.

This possession of my delicately flowering rear hole is all new to me and . . .

"Aiiiiiiiyeeeeeeee"

I scream.

The yin and yang of pain and pleasure clash together in my ass passage.

And I scream("Don't hurt me, don't hurt me.")

And I scream("Make me come, make me come.")

And I scream("Hurt me till I come, please, hurt me till I come."')

HE takes the leather strip, binds it to a ring on my hip belt, bringing it up between my legs,

across my gaping cunt and across my violated ass hole. HE ties it off on the ring at the rear of

the belt.

The leather forces the dildos deeper into my holes, cuts into my puffy labia and holds the

penetrating phalluses in position.

There is no escape from them now.

Even if I could escape from their raping, plunging presence I would not.

I wish to submit to them and through them to my master.

I want them, I want him, to take me heights of pleasure I have never known.