Manual Training

I hummed along with the radio, lining all my toys and tools up on the bathroom counter.

*i was born sick, but I love it*

Fuck it though. Don't command me to be well.

Command me to be kinky, maybe. And tonight's kink would be bondage and impalement.

I loved my largest dildo, as only 2 inches wide, but a full 9 inches long, solid and flesh-colored complete with suction cup at the base. It felt fantastic to ride, but at only 5'1 and 103 lbs, I was almost too petite to take it. The last 3 firm inches just had nowhere to go. Yet.

I felt wonderfully empowered after my self bondage sessions, like if I could endure my preset time of debauched kink, I could conquer the world. This time, I just wanted to conquer this dick.

Though neat and orderly in my normal day to day waitressing lifestyle, I was incredibly undisciplined sexually. It didn't take me much stimulation to get off, but as soon as I did, I was disgusted with myself for my lack of control. Then, depressed, abstained from any and all sexual exploits until I felt emotionally prepared enough to try again.

Self bondage was like a lifeline. Limits I couldn't escape, not easily anyway. A roughly preset time I just needed to endure to earn my reward.

I haven't been disciplined enough to force my favorite toy all the way home, but by my morning shift tomorrow, I doubted it would be a problem ever again. I had a full 20 hours to lock myself in, suffer through, clean up, eat and sleep. I was tempted to call in for tomorrow, give myself til my Tuesday shift or recover, but I needed the money. The boss had been hacking back everyone's hours due to slow business.

Today's concept would be simple: sit and sink. I would sit atop a double stack of inverted 5 gallon buckets, a large hole cut out of the topmost position. The dildo would be fixed to the lower bucket, poking through. Between the two stacks would be a thick layer of ice, that while slowly melting would lower me bit by bit down, and with a heavily weighted belt around my waist and affixed to the bottom bucket, gravity would assist where my lacking discipline didn't.

With high heals duct taped to my slender feet, and my legs splayed wide to a spreader bar between my knees, I wouldn't have the leverage to raise myself until my frozen key dropped to release first the hand that would be buckled uncomfortably high behind my back, which would have the second key to unlock the hand buckled to my locking slave collar. With both hands free could finally unfasten the belt, lift and hobble awkwardly through my apartment to the front door to get the last keys which would release both my knees and my locking gag. With the exception of the locks, nearly all of my self bondage gear was home made. Someday I'd be able to afford the professional gear, though mine worked well considering the time and attention to detail I'd given while making them.

I eyed my long series of locks with trepidation and excitement. Always a chance something could go wrong, but no doubt someone would come investigate if I missed a shift. I set to work.

Keys for my knees and gag were left on a long twist tie around my front door knob.

My release key bottle and a gallon and a half of ice from the freezer to my bathroom and carefully laid flat and even on the inverted bucket that held my prize dildo like a kinky trophy on top. That lowest bucket was also bolted to a long slab of plywood in my walk-in shower, eliminating any chance I could tip it over in an effort to escape early. My sitting bucket rested over the first, leaving only about 2 Inches of dildo poking through. I my pussy clenched in anticipation. I would finally have to take it all.

I hooked a water bottle to my suckable ball gag and hung it to the shower head in front of me, then slid my iPad into the holster already taped to the tile in front of my face. I'd have some kinky porn and plenty of erotic fiction to keep me good and wired until I was released.

I nearly changed my mind about the enema, but decided to stick with it. A mild punishment for needing to lock myself down at all. And it would ramp my libido up to 20. Get through the pain to get to the pleasure. The enema tube was clipped closed halfway down, but would release when the bucket got low enough, mixing my pleasure/pain receptors even more.

The tube was hooked securely to my 1 inch enema plug - I'd have to clench a bit to keep from leaking. My hands trembled as I lubed and worked the plug in, then set to hanging the frozen release key before finally sitting. It was already a tease to have in, just the tip, so far.

High heels came next, then spreader bar locking my knees in the widest V I could stand, leaving me feeling deliciously exposed. Next came 2 small nipple clamps that I would barely feel unless I was especially bouncy or too shifty.

I heaved up the weighted belt, cinched it tight and added the lock. Mere socks full of gravel clipped around the belt wasn't fancy, but it was a way to gain a quick 30 pounds.

I wet my lips and opened wide for my gag, quickly locking it behind my head., I double-checked my wrist key tethered to my left shackle, stretched my shoulder back behind me, wrist up toward my shoulder blades. I snagged the attached cord, tugged tight over my shoulder, then clipped that to the front edge of the bucket, tightening the adjuster cord down. The last bit I did with my breath held, looping the D ring of my other wrist shackle to the lock of my dainty collar, relieved when I herd that last little mechanical *snap*.

I shifted slightly and winced at the tug on my nipples, but needed to test the full design. Definitely stuck. And would be, for the next 8 hours or so. I'd frozen the release key in a larger water bottle than I usually used for my bondage, unsure of how long the trapped ice in the bucket would take to melt . Before tomorrow morning I was certain.

I relaxed fully, drawing a small sip of water and let my eyes drift closed. There was something fantastically liberating about being restrained, even by my own hand. Safety and security in my own little bubble of restriction. I rocked gently over the dildo I was slowly stretching my pussy to fill. Patience was not my best quality. I wanted to bounce on this fucker Now, damn it. Needed it. I whined sadly and clenched on what little I could reach.

Three hours later, everything ached, just from the tension my impatience brought on. I'd been reading self bondage fiction from every corner of the net, success stories, failures, fantasies, caught in the act scenarios, and I'd hardly noticed I had an extra 2 inches stuffed into me. I gave a happy little bounce on it, then shivered when my nipples protested deliciously.

I tapped my favorite website for a little orgasm denial porn, clicked a video at random, and let my mind wander as a naughty impatient slave boy was edged to the point of delirium by his Master. Lucky slave.

If I were a more trusting people person, I might do more than just sit daringly in the parking lot of the only Scene club in town, get a master or mistress of my own. But I could never talk myself into it. I felt naughty just knowing what the club was.

A clatter behind me made me flinch until I could feel the thicker fullness in my ass. I groaned deep, hips rolling a little, wished upon a galaxy of stars that it was hot cum filling me full.

Master would make me keep it in, keep his and the slave boys spunk safe and warm in my tight ass. I breathed deeply through the cramps, loved that feel of just there, almost enough, enough, too much! It's been a while since I'd taken a full 3 liters, but watching my slender belly bloat out had me shaking with arousal, my ass clenching tighter, hips wriggling with the need to come, too uncomfortable to climax.

Lost in my fantasies, I hadn't noticed I'd sunk down another inch or 2 and my knees angled a little higher, shifting my ass plug deliciously snug. The dildo and plug we're competing for space through that thin tissue and I whimpered like a puppy, a full body shiver overtaking me.

My head began to go wonderfully fuzzy, the background porn like a song I swayed to, gently rocking toward climax, then away, and again and again.

I was sweating, shivering with the need to come when my mind surfaced again, painfully full now, but a quick check said I still had those elusive 3 inches to go.

I sipped water from my gag, fought the nasty urge to let my bowels loose and let my mind sink away once more.

When i surfaced this time, it was with the certain knowledge I'd climaxed at least once and didn't even remember. 2 excruciating inches to go.

I woke coming hard, my whole body convulsing, drenched in sweat. On and on and on. Still one inch to go.

I could feel those rubbery silicone balls pressing into my clit and didn't fight the next orgasm, screaming through my gag, ignoring the pain of my tits as I exhaustedly clenched and bounced pathetically on the cock, too deep and too big and just right and was sure I only stopped screaming when I finally blacked out.

I was still mostly lost in my own sub space when I came round, hips sill gyrating slow and sensual and that perfect cock grinding every inch of my insides. I blinked sleepily at the release bottle.

I smiled softly, gladly, when I saw it was still half frozen. Maybe this time, my reward is staying put. I drifted away again, satisfied.

Thanks for reading!