A Masochist's Adventures in Wonderland
Chapter 20
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I walked into Ash’s apartment. He wasn’t there, but the usual note on the coffee table was there.
Take your clothes off and put this on.
I picked up what looked like a black leather strap lying on top of the note. A normal chrome metal buckle hung from the end of one strap with holes pierced along the tongue on the other side.
The center of the strap widened into a rectangle with some kind of mouthpiece attached to the inside. I recognized this contraption. It was a gag.
Down at the bottom of the note, Ash had added another message in much smaller handwriting.
For your safeword tonight while you’re wearing this gag, you can snap your fingers to stop all play.
That was it. That was the whole note.
I started taking off my clothes and laid them on the chair with my purse the way I always did. Then I had to figure out how to put on the gag.
I fitted the mouthpiece into my mouth first. It covered my teeth like a sports mouth guard.
I bit down, maneuvered my lips over the mouthpiece so they rested in a comfortable position, and buckled the straps behind my head.
I had to do the whole thing by feel. I had to locate the buckle, slip the tongue through it, and then adjust it a few times to make sure the whole thing fit right.
The rectangle covered my whole mouth with a wide margin above, below, and on either side of my lips. I wouldn’t be able to say anything while I was wearing this or even make a sound.
I started to feel extremely vulnerable even though Ash wasn’t doing anything to me. He wasn’t in the same room or even in the same building.
I glanced around the apartment. It sure sounded quiet all of a sudden.
I jumped out of my skin when I heard the downstairs, outside apartment door open. His footsteps beat up the stairs coming closer.
I trembled. I wanted to turn around and face whatever was coming, but I couldn’t do that. I had to stand with my back to the door—and to him when he came to a stop right behind me.
He stood there for an eternity. What would he do this time? Would it be painful—or arousing—or none of those?
I couldn’t stop shaking—until the moment when he grabbed my arms, pulled my hands together behind my back, and tied my wrists together with something that felt like a length of soft, supple, synthetic rope.
He did it quickly and effortlessly by throwing a slipknot around my wrists and cinching it tight. I yelped from the pain, but the gag muffled the sound.
The sound released something in me. I could scream as loudly as I wanted. No one would hear me.
Wearing this gag freed me in ways I never imagined. I started to reel in ecstasy even though he wasn’t doing anything yet.
He got to work adding more and more loops of rope to my wrists. The more loops he added, the less the binding hurt. The extra loops spread the pressure over a wider area so each loop didn’t bite as deep.
He tied them off and started winding the rope up my arms. He tied my forearms tight together and then did the same thing to my upper arms.
He couldn’t bring them together all the way, but he sure did try. He squeezed them together and made me arch my chest out and my shoulders back so he could secure my arms as closely together as possible.
As soon as he did that, he started winding the rest of the length of rope around my body. I didn’t realize before that he was using one long, long piece of rope.
He wrapped it around my chest and arranged some of the lengths around my breast. He stayed behind me the whole time and did it by feel. He never came in front of me where I could see him.
He pulled the ropes tight and cinched the nooses around my breasts. The rope squeezed my breasts outward so they stood up straight and taut.
The tight binding made my nipples point forward harder and tighter than ever before.
He kept tying the rope around and down my body, but I couldn’t see what he was doing. My arms pulled back to the breaking point and forced me to look up. I couldn’t bend over to look down.
He squatted behind me to tie my legs together. The rope dug into my thighs. I wouldn’t have been able to spread them for anything.
He finished with the same binding of multiple loops around my ankles. He used the entire length of rope and tucked the loose end inside the bindings.
He stood up behind me. I really wished he would say something about what he was going to do.
His silence and not being able to see him was really starting to get to me. He never left me in this vulnerable place without at least talking to me and letting me see him.
He stood back for another long silence. The weight of his eyes traced up and down my bound body. I might as well have been a delivery package for him to unwrap—except that he was the one who just packaged me up. He packaged me up for himself to unwrap.
I panted for air through my nose. The anticipation was more than I could bear.
I jumped again when he touched my head. I had to seriously fight the urge to recoil from that touch and start struggling.
I did yell out in surprise when he touched me, but the gag muffled the sound again.
I sounded like I was having sex. I sounded like a raving slut getting fucked, but I wasn’t any of that.
I sure did look like one, though. I looked bound, trussed up, and totally at his mercy.
He didn’t hurt me when he touched my head. He started gathering my hair into a ponytail.
I couldn’t understand why because he always played with my hair before. He seemed to like it.
He tied my hair into a ponytail and left me standing there for another long moment. It might just have been a few seconds, but it felt it would never end.
When he actually did something, he came up behind me so fast I didn’t have time to brace myself.
His presence radiated that ferocious power into me, and a split second later, he grabbed me by the ponytail and tipped me over at the waist.
Bending over like that tightened all the ropes around me even tighter. They made my breasts stick out straighter and my back arched all the way back.
He used my ponytail as a handle to pull my head up so I had to arch as high as I could possibly go.
The ropes around my legs plus my arms tied behind me made me stick my ass out. My ass was the only part of me not bound.
He rotated to my side without letting go of my hair. He growled under his breath, but he still didn’t speak.
I couldn’t see him in this position, either. I moaned from the strain and the gag once again turned that sound into the most arousing pathetic sob of utter passion.
He responded by rubbing his hand over my ass in big, warm circles. Was he going to spank me like this?
The ropes, the gag, and my total helplessness heightened every sensation. He could definitely do what he wanted with me like this.
He muttered too low for me to hear what he was saying. He couldn’t be talking to me.
He stroked down to my thighs, brushed the ropes, and then dragged his fingertips ever so seductively up my crack.
He brushed my exposed pussy lips, up my ass, and went back to circling.
He did spank me, but only lightly. He didn’t make it hurt. It was just a spank of acknowledgment—to let me know he had me and that I was his to play with any way he wanted.
He did the same thing three more times, stroked down to my thighs, trailed his fingers up my slit, and on the third time, he stopped with his fingertips right there on my trembling pussy lips.
He rubbed—not hard enough to penetrate—just enough to make me groan from the rushes of pleasure and desire sweeping outward from those fingers.
I tried to rock back into his hand, but the ropes and his hand on my hair held me firmly in place. I couldn’t move at all.
My moans turned to whimpers of ragged desperation. The gag made me sound even more agonized and wild than I actually was—except that I really was that agonized and wild. The gag made me that way.
Having my legs bound together squeezed my pussy lips to stick out behind me. Not being able to spread my legs exaggerated every sensation even more.
My legs forced my pussy lips together and also unfurled them toward his probing fingers. The sensation of needing him rose to an epic pitch.
He rubbed faster—and a little deeper. My juices oozed out onto his fingers—and then he shifted them down a little bit to my clitoris.
He rubbed in tighter circles right on top of it—and shoved his fingers all the way in.
Something thick and hard drilling me to my deepest depths—I started to cum, but he pulled out immediately.
That was the moment when I realized he left something inside me. I couldn’t feel very well because he shoved it all the way in and left it there.
I froze. What did he put inside me? Would it be something that would hurt me—on the inside?
He didn’t wait around for me to get used to it. He shifted behind me and did something without letting go of my hair.
A motor buzzed from somewhere. I recognized that sound. It was the ceiling restrain motor he used to hold my arms out last time.
He didn’t give me enough room to turn around. He kept me bent over like that while he tied something to my hair.
It didn’t feel like anything until he activated the motor again. It started to rise and pulled my ponytail up tight.
I would have stood up straight to take the tension off my hair, but he pressed his hand down onto my back to hold me in position.
The restrain pulled my head all the way back. I had to arch my neck just to stop the restraint from hurting me.
He stopped the motor in that position. He kept his hand pinned down between my shoulder blades.
He didn’t give me a chance to get used to that, either. He pressed something else between my pussy lips. It felt hot…..and thick….and unbelievably hard. It was him.
He rubbed the tip up and down my exposed pussy lips. My thighs made my pussy so much tighter. Could I really handle this?
He eased in extra slowly—slowly enough to let me get used to it.
My moans spiked to full-throated cries. I sounded so wretched and needy behind this gag.
He worked his prick in one inch at a time. He didn’t just drive in and start banging. He pulsed just the head in first—in and out, in and out.
These shallow penetrations excited my pussy lips beyond belief. I needed him so much deeper.
The tight squeeze of my thighs scorched every inch of my channel. He plunged in deeper—just a little bit—just enough to give me a taste.
I shrieked for more, but he could barely hear me. I was all alone with my own ravenous need.
He worked in another few inches. His thickness satisfied me more now, but it still wasn’t enough.
He drove a little deeper—and hit whatever it was he left inside me. That added extra length finally let me feel what it was.
It felt like two perfectly round, smooth glass balls. That was it.
They lay embedded deep inside my channel. I could barely feel them until he drove all the way in.
The force of that thrust squeezed the balls sideways. His cock held them tight against the walls of my channel—and then he really started thrusting.
His shaft rolled against the balls. The pressure drove me into a spiraling orgasm. The balls triggered every pleasure spot up and down my channel—and they didn’t stop.
Every thrust blasted me out of this world. I couldn’t cope with this—but I had to. He bound me so tightly that I couldn’t get away.
The tightness of my thighs—the sensation of those balls rolling down his shaft—the tugging of the restraint against my hair—I couldn’t take this.
All those sensations rocketed me into a catastrophic series of orgasms hitting me one right after the other. I screamed, but the gag silenced me.
That tight pressure on my mouth tore down the walls the rest of the way. I didn’t have to hold myself together anymore. I could go completely wild and release everything in this moment.
No one could hear me. No one could blame me for doing anything wrong when I was completely helpless to stop what was happening.
The balls definitely stimulated Ash more than usual, too. He huffed through his open mouth building up to an explosion much faster than usual.
He choked again and again with every thrust. His free hand crushed my hip while his other hand kept holding me down in that position.
I couldn’t think. I couldn’t even see straight. My whole body convulsed with quaking spasms as the sensation tore me apart.
At that moment, he let go of my hip and placed his other hand right on top of my tailbone. I didn’t think anything about it—until he slipped one of his fingers into my asshole.
The tight, hot, wrong sensation of it got lost in the confusion of all this other mind-blowing sensation, but that one intrusion broke something else in me.
I didn’t exactly like the sensation. It felt so alien. It didn’t feel like a sex act at all—except that everything he did to me felt like a sex act.
No one had ever touched my asshole before—not like this.
He rubbed his finger harder. Was he using his thumb? It felt too thick to be a smaller finger.
That hard, stretching feeling somehow ate a rotten feeling into my guts. The sensation made this whole experience so much more brutal, filthy, and bestial.
He kept thrusting into me and choking from the intensity of the pressure as the balls rolled up and down the underside of his shaft.
They rolled over my G spot and made me cum again—and again—and then he roared out in fury and rammed in extra hard.
His cum flooded me. He stood back there massaging his thumb into my asshole in a slow, steady rhythm while he pumped his load all the way in.
The balls worked both of us into a frenzy until the moment he pulled out. He groaned a few more times, staggered back, and left me bent over in that position—but without his hands on me.
I could only roll my eyes in their sockets trying to cope with the overwhelming feelings covering my whole body.
His cum dripped down my thighs. My asshole felt stretched, but that somehow turned me on. It was so wrong—so dark and forbidden. That darkness made it so sexual and exciting.
It was all over now, though. He stumbled toward me, untied my ponytail, and my hair fell over my face.
He didn’t untie the rest of the rope. He kept everything else exactly the way it was, picked me up in his arms like a giant package, and carried me upstairs to his bedroom.
I kept sobbing and moaning behind my gag the whole way up there. The gag made it okay to be completely fragile and wrung out by all of this. I didn’t have to cope. I just had to experience it all.
He laid me down on top of the bedspread, but the rope around my arms wouldn’t let me lie comfortably.
I stretched out on my side and tried to find a comfortable position while he walked away.
He picked up a velvet blanket from the couch by the windows, brought it back, and wrapped it around me.
He rubbed my hair, kissed me on the head once, and stretched out on the bed in front of me.
He still had all his clothes on. He wasn’t wearing his jacket, but other than that, he still had on his usual business suit. He had already zipped himself up.
He pulled me against him with the blanket separating us from each other.
He would have pulled me into a deep, comforting embrace except that I still had the ropes tied around my arms.
I had to arch my arms and chest all the way back. They made it impossible to lie down. Did he really plan to just leave me like this?
Almost as an afterthought, he reared off the mattress and tugged something on my wrist loops. They came undone—and all the pressure unwound all the way up my arms.
The tightness around my breasts eased, too. I could finally slump onto the mattress and relax—partially.
The ropes still held my legs together—and I was still wearing this gag.
He didn’t seem to notice. He pulled me in and held me until I fell asleep like that.
End of Chapter 20.
