The Interactive Bondage Museum · Part 3 (3/4)
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a little larger than a man's fist, with a hole encircled by a cylinder. If I turned it upright, it looked like a squat, metal vase. I opened it up. It was neatly hinged, the interior smooth and polished. I took one of Martin's hands in mine and leaned down. He gripped it as if begging for something, and I think I knew what he was begging for. "Don't let him come, Sierra," I reminded her.
"Yes, Ada."
She slowed down, started licking his balls instead. I took his index finger into my mouth and ran my tongue along it. Then his middle finger. His hand relaxed. I balled his fingers into a fist and quickly slipped the metal sphere over it, hinged it shut, and secured the clasp. The cuff end fit tightly against his wrist and rendered his hand useless. I locked it in place with a tiny padlock. There was a bit of skin at his wrist between the metal ball and the arm of the statue. I didn't like that.
I grabbed another metal ball and went to secure his other hand, but he knew what was coming and tried to resist. He held his fingers splayed out and waved them around. It was silliness. He wasn't going to stop me. I took his pinky and bent it backwards until I heard him yelp in pain inside the mask. "You going to cooperate?" I asked loudly. He still held his fingers wide. My dad taught me a trick once, which he told me to use if a guy ever got too aggressive. It's easy to do. I held his thumb at its base with my own thumb and bent it backwards with the rest of my fingers. Martin did not like it. That was an understatement. If he hadn't been gagged, I might have made out the string of curses he let loose. But after a moment, he balled up a fist, nice and compliant. I covered it with the other metal ball from the table and locked it in place.
Now, to take care of that bit of skin I could still see. I wanted him completely encased. I moved to the rear of the statue, where I had made some adjustments before to size him in. I checked the directions on the placard and found the knob I wanted. I turned it slowly, and the torso of the statue extended upwards. I calculated right. There was still enough room in the shoulders to pull his arms upwards. The skin at his wrist disappeared into the statue's arms, and the metal balls closed up the gap and seemingly locked into place against the wrist of the statue. I stood back to admire my work. Now all that was visible of Martin's body was his throbbing dick.
Sierra was alternating between licking his balls and caressing the tip of his cock with her tongue. No, there was one more thing this needed. I walked to the rear of the statue and took hold of the knob at the statue's neck. I twisted it slowly, and the neck extended. Martin grunted within. I twisted it again, and the neck got longer. I stopped and listened. One more twist. It wasn't too much, but he'd be plenty tight, which is just what I wanted.
I pulled Sierra's hair back and pulled her off of his cock. She sucked up a bit of spittle off the tip of his penis as she pulled away. I stood behind her and leaned down to kiss her ear. "All the way, OK?"
Sierra nodded.
"OK, here we go. Open up."
Sierra opened her mouth, wide and eager. I held her head in my hands and guided her mouth over Martin's dick. I pushed her closer and closer, halfway, then three quarters, and she started to resist.
"All the way, Sierra."
She stopped resisting. I pushed her head sharply forward, and Martin's cock shoved all the way down her throat, her face pushed up against the statue's crotch. I knew she couldn't breathe, and she probably wanted to gag. But she did well.
"Just a few more seconds."
She waited. Her fingers grabbed at the air behind her, her cuffed hands trying to pull apart. But she didn't resist me.
I pulled her head away. I caressed her cheek and kissed her neck. "Good girl."
"Thank you, Ada."
"You think we should let him cum?"
She nodded.
"Well, I don't." I grabbed her upper arms and pulled her into a standing position. I held my hands around around the thinnest part of her corset, still holding her torso tightly. “I think we'll need to take this off.” I unlaced her, watched her body ease back into her shape. I removed the corset and set it aside. I took her to the horse that I had examined earlier and shoved her over it. She yelped in surprise. I quickly strapped her neck to one side of the device, but I didn't strap her feet in yet. With her hands still cuffed, she struggled awkwardly. Her sizable ass stuck up in the air, vulnerable, but not vulnerable enough. I pulled her skirt down to around her ankles.
"Up," I said, and she obediently lifted one foot and the other as I pulled the skirt away. She wore a pair of purple panties. Cute. We didn't need these. I pulled them off her, and she lifted one foot and then other, like a good girl. I took each foot in turn and strapped it in to the device. The straps were a good distance apart, so when she was secured, she was completely open to me.
"You picked this place, Sierra. I wonder if you're enjoying it like you thought you would." I reached between her thighs and found her pussy, and holy fuck, it was wet. She was cleanly shaved and soaking. I ran my fingers up to her clit and felt a piercing there, a ring. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” She eased into my hand as much as she could as I felt the dimensions of her piercing. Then I took my fingers back down to her wetness. I pulled my hand away, and she sighed in disappointment.
"Is this what you wanted?" I asked as I held two wet fingers in front of her face.
She breathed heavily. "Yes, Ada."
"You're dripping down there. You should be ashamed of yourself."
"I am, Ada."
"Go on, then. Clean it up." I held my fingers to her mouth and she licked them clean. I caressed her hair with my other hand. "Now," I said when she was done, "you need to be punished for being disobedient earlier. It's for your own good, understand?"
She nodded.
"Understand?"
"Yes, Ada."
I raised an eyebrow and waited.
"Ada, please punish me. I deserve to be punished."
"Good girl."
I uncuffed her hands and secured them to the bottom of the device. Now she was completely open to me.
Beside the horse was a small rack with a number of implements hanging off of it. I took a small paddle from the notch where it hung. It was about as long as a ping pong paddle, but the flat part was more like a wide, thick strap, about as wide as my palm. It was black leather with a thong wrapped neatly around its handle. It felt good in my hand, just the right weight. I went behind Sierra and caressed that huge, creamy white ass of hers. I looked over to the metal statue. Martin's cock still pushed out of it, and it was still throbbing. He must have been aching for release.
I had never felt this way before. Everything felt right. This is where I was supposed to be. I was calm, in control. I was still angry at Sierra for presuming so much. And so, she deserved pain. But I wasn’t going to inflict it out of jealousy.
First, I went to the metal statue and removed the panel covering Martin’s eyes. The statue faced the horse over which Sierra’s naked ass was now exposed. He’d have a good view.
“How many?” I asked Sierra.
She struggled to look at me, her eyes seeking the right answer. “Three?”
I shook my head.
“Five?”
“Ten, Sierra. Ten. Do you think that's too much?”
“No, Ada.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Ada. I deserve ten.”
I rubbed the end of the paddle against her left ass cheek. She responded by clenching her cheeks together. Perhaps it was fear. She was right to be afraid. I held the paddle at a distance of a couple feet. I swung.
It didn’t hit right. I had angled the paddle too much, and the handle came down ahead of the flat part. It didn’t even make a slapping sound. I had never done this before. Sierra hardly squirmed, and that wouldn’t do. “One.”
I swung again. This time, the strike found its mark a little better, across the middle of her fleshy left cheek, but the strike was still weak. The slapping sound hardly counted. Sierra relaxed a little bit, and that wouldn’t do. “Two.”
I held my hand back farther this time, angling it carefully. Using my whole arm, I brought the paddle hard onto her ass. The slapping sound reverberated through the room, and Sierra let out a surprised squeal. “Zero.”
“Zero?”
“I don’t think you understood. Ten in a row without a sound. If you cry out in pain, even a little peep, I’m starting over from one. Understand now?”
Now there was some anger in her eyes, but she was hesitant to make it worse. She was bent over a bondage horse with her bare ass in the air, after all. “Yes, Ada,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Good. Let’s start over then.”
There was already a red spot on her butt, the shape of the paddle from the last strike. I aimed straight for it and let her have another good whack. I was getting the hang of it. The flat landed cleanly, producing a solid slapping sound. Her ass rippled away from the paddle in little tremors after it struck. “One.”
I aimed the next strike at the fresh whiteness of her other cheek. It landed well. “Two.” Sierra responded with a heavy exhalation of breath as she tried to wriggle her ass uselessly away from the resulting blow. She couldn’t go far. She held her tongue.
Another strike to the same place. “Three.”
I rubbed the paddle closer to the bottom of her left buttcheek, where the fold of her ass met the back of her thighs. I landed a blow there. Her body went tense, her toes pushing towards the floor and her head straining up into the air. “Four.”
I aimed and struck another blow on the opposite side. She was breathing heavily now, and her ass was developing a nice collection of red marks. “Five. How are we doing?” I reached a hand between her legs and up to her pussy. It was even wetter than before. “You fucking naughty girl. I can’t believe you’re getting turned on by this. No noise now.” I sunk three fingers into her wet pussy while I rubbed the red marks lightly with the paddle. She felt good, and my fingers were quickly soaked in her fluids. I made sure they were covered, and I went to Martin’s immobile form. I held my fingers up in front of his eyes. He looked a little scared. He also looked excited.
It was hard to tell which was stronger. I rubbed my wet fingers across his hard cock, still sticking straight out from the crotch of the statue. The cock responded by throbbing upwards into my hand, trying to reach out for as much of Sierra’s juices as it could get. I rubbed them into the tip of his dick, squeezing the cap a few times in my palm before letting go.
I went back to Sierra. “Five more.”
She nodded.
I landed three hits in rapid succession, alternating between her ass cheeks, smack in the middle of her white flesh. I leaned down towards Sierra’s head and put my ear close to her mouth. She breathed heavily through her nose, and her whole body strained against its bonds. But she didn’t make a sound. “Eight.”
I put the paddle back on the rack. I wanted to spank her properly the last two times. I ran my hands across her ass, kneading at the red marks that the paddle had left. With one hand on her left cheek, I slapped my other hand hard against her right. I could feel the throbbing in my own hand from how hard I had hit. It radiated out for a moment and turned into a brief burning. I could only imagine how her ass felt. “Nine. Last one.” I stood back and spanked her good on the other cheek for balance.
I was proud of my work: two large, white ass cheeks with several broad red marks across them. I could even see the outline of my fingers starting to form on each one. I ran my fingers across her ample skin. It was hot to the touch. I leaned my head against the small of her back and put my arms across her ass, making as much contact as I could. I wanted to feel all of her that I could touch. I wanted more. The next room. What else? What else could there be? My own pussy wanted to be touched. It demanded it. I didn’t need to reach my hand down my jeans to tell how wet I was. My panties were already plenty sticky, I was sure.
“Good girl,” I said, more to Sierra’s ass than to her face. “You can talk again.”
“Thank you, Ada.”
“Thank you for what?”
“Thank you for punishing me, Ada.”
“Well, you deserved it. Now, I think it’s time to let poor Martin out. Do you think he’ll be angry?”
“Yes, Ada.”
I unstrapped her from the horse. She slowly stood up straight and rubbed at her lower back. She started to pick up her panties from where I had left them on the floor.
“No. Leave those.”
She stood back up straight and waited. No backtalk this time. She only wore her tight t-shirt now, the black stud earrings in her ears, and the tiny ring pierced through her clit. I thought she was beautiful. I hadn’t noticed before how beautiful she was. Maybe it required the adjustment of her demeanor for me to see it. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to feel the nipples that were poking through her shirt. I wanted to pull her dark hair back and bite a chunk out of her neck. Patience, though. Patience.
I looked at Martin’s eyes inside the iron mask. He stared back. I could tell he was pissed.
“Martin, I’m going to let you out now. I see you’ve still got something going on down here.” I grabbed his hard cock in one hand and stroked it lightly up and down. “Now you could be angry with me. But I’m guessing you’re pretty frustrated right now. You probably want to cum really bad, huh? Let me suggest that it is not in your best interest to be angry with me when I let you out, especially if you want something to be done about this.” I gave a light squeeze to the shaft of his dick. “Look at Sierra over there. Be like her.”
His eyes went to the girl with the dark hair, standing there with her pussy exposed, submissive, pliant to my will. I don’t know what thoughts ran through his head, but when he looked back at me, he seemed to have lost some of his anger.
“OK, I’m going to take this out. It would be best if you stayed quiet,” I said. I unlocked the padlocks that held the metal plate over his mouth. I undid the hasps and pulled the plate away and with it the dildo gag. A bit of spittle clung to his mouth as I removed it. I stared at him for a moment, waiting to see what he would do. He said nothing.
I took my time adjusting the knobs on the statue, giving his body inside a little release from its stretched position. He let out a moan of relief every time I turned a knob. After a few moments, I removed the three larger padlocks that locked the entire statue together. I swung it open. Martin’s body was sweaty, with dark wet spots at his underarms and forming across his chest. His pants were unzipped, and his cock still stood straight up. I hadn’t removed the metal balls around his hands, and so his arms ended in useless appendages. He stepped out form the statue and stood before me. “I can’t,” he said awkwardly and indicated his open zipper.
“You don’t have to. I want you both the same way. Sierra, come here.”
She walked over beside me.
“Help him take off his pants.”
She took off his shoes first, then his socks. She pulled his pants down carefully. He didn’t resist, but he didn’t look happy about it. There was still some attitude adjustment to be done there. She removed his underwear, brushing her hand light against his cock as she did so. It was probably intentional. Martin’s dick responded with a fresh salute. After a few moments, he stood naked from the waist down, just like Sierra. They each still wore the metal collar that we had put around their necks in the first room. Martin had balls of metal for fists, and she had a ring of metal in her clit. It was a beautiful sort of parity. But I could see room for improvement.
“Good. Now we see what’s in room four.” We hadn’t tried the spinning wheel yet, the one unused device left in the room. But it wasn’t too appealing to me anyway. I wanted to see how room number four was going to up the ante compared to three.
“So we're just going to walk around like this?” Martin asked.
“Yes. We're alone, aren't we? What's the problem?”
“But our clothes…”
“What about them?”
“Are we just going to leave them here?”
“Yes.”
I opened the door to the next room and stood aside for each of them to pass through, Martin first. As Sierra passed, I passed my hand to her ass and caressed it possessively as I stepped through behind her.
“Oh God,” Martin said.
I thought the same, except the dismay in his voice was matched by excitement in my thoughts. Just the sight of all this equipment made me want to lay Martin out on the floor and ride his cock. But no. Not yet.
At first glance, the room was overwhelming. The walls were a deep blue color, the floors a darkly varnished hardwood, smooth and beautiful. The ceiling was much taller in this room, with good reason. A number of devices hung from the ceiling by a series of ropes and pulleys and chains. Along one wall was a table covered in all sorts of implements: whips, rope, chains, pieces of leather which needed further examining, latex items, dildos, vibrators, gags… the selection seemed endless. There must have been twenty larger devices in the room, spread out along other three walls. Some of them hung by chains attached to rails on the ceiling. They were mobile, and the tracks on the ceiling made the whole room available to these hanging devices. Some of the devices were attached to the floor by heavy bolts: various tables and benches.
There was so much. We wouldn’t be able to try everything, not unless we spent a few days here, with many breaks for meals and sleep. The thought was tempting, but it would be better to be selective. I left Sierra and Martin, their genitals open to the air, and walked around the room. I surveyed everything, running my fingers over the devices that looked the most interesting, examining every device on the long table. I took my time. This needed a plan. It needed intention. It would be a work of art.
I found a metal rolling cart by the table, and I began to pick out what I would need. First I selected a pair of leather gloves – no, not gloves exactly, more like mittens. They were fingerless and had a place to lock at the wrists. Everything must lock, I decided. I put them on the cart. Next, I selected an assortment of gags and leather cuffs, each with different features. I picked through the selection of hoods for a good while until I found exactly what I needed. This place was a dream. I also picked out some short chains with fine links, some clamps, and a small metal band, also lockable. I picked up a handful of padlocks and a handful more. When I was done, the cart was near too overflowing. I rolled it to the middle of the room.
I could see Sierra was excited at what I had picked out. I wasn’t so sure about Martin.
“Come here, Martin.”
He walked to me, saying nothing. His hands were heavy in their metal ball cuffs.
“Get on your knees,” I said.
He was hesitant to do so as he looked over what was on the cart beside me, but he obeyed. I picked up one of the hoods from the cart. It was black leather. It looked like a mess of a spider webbing, with buckles flailing and straps all over it. I went behind Martin. “Ada?”
“You’ll be alright,” I said and stroked his cheek lightly.
I found the open end of the hood, circumscribed by a thicker leather strap for a collar. It was a bit of a task getting it over the top of his head, tight as it was, but it went on. His head was covered in leather and straps hanging off at every angle. I straightened out the front of it. There were no eye holes, no way for him to see, but there were two tiny holes for nostrils, and the mouth was open through a wide oval hole. It fit nicely over his slightly thick lips. Down the back of the hood was were two rows of eyelets and a string to bind them shut, like shoelaces. I slowly tightened the laces between each eyelets, making the sure the mask in front stayed straight. The laces went all the way down to the neck, and once tightened, the mask had been pulled taut around Martin’s head.
I ran my hands over the whole of the hood, over the various straps hanging off of it, feeling the creases of his ears and his nose and the top of his head. I ran my fingers lightly over his lips. He responding by opening them slightly. But there was still work to be done. At the base of the hood was a thicker leather collar with buckles in the back. There was a notched groove down the inside that fit perfectly around the locked metal collar around Martin’s neck. I buckled the collar and put a padlock in place on a metal hook. He wouldn’t be able to remove this hood even if he could use his hands. It took some figuring to figure out the rest of the straps and the order they needed to go in. It was like solving a puzzle, but I figured it out in quickly enough. When I was done, thin straps criss-crossed across his face and under his chin. It was beautiful. And very secure.
“Lift your arms,” I said. He did, and I pulled his shirt off over his head. I left it on the floor beside the cart. Now he was fully naked except for the devices attached to his hands and head. I couldn’t help but notice his cock was standing at full attention when I was done. He sure had stamina. I stood in front of him and hugged his head into me. His mouth was not so far from my cunt. I wanted it closer. But not yet. I leaned over and gave him a light kiss. “Stay here. It’s Sierra’s turn.”
Sierra’s hood was different, not made of leather but a burgundy-colored latex. It was rather a chore getting it on, but she was helpful and compliant. When we were done, her head was a solid, shiny red, with her thick black hair sticking straight up out of the hood like a pony’s tail. This hood had holes for the mouth and nose but – unlike Martin's – also had eyeholes. On the sides of the face were button clasps, which I would be making use of shortly. The neck of the hood was a bit messy, though, with the ends of the hood laying out loosely, even after I tucked them beneath her thin metal collar. That would need fixing.
I went back to the long table and found what I needed: a thick black leather collar. This one, like the collar on Martin’s hood, had a groove so that it fit cleanly over the metal collar already on Sierra’s neck. I fastened it securely around her neck, which forced her whole head upright, with her chin pointed slightly upwards. It defied her usual posture.
“Now, you too,” I said and indicated her shirt. She lifted her arms, and I pulled it off. I removed her bra next. Her nipple piercings were exposed now. I could use those. “How’s that?”
“It’s nice, Ada.”
I rubbed my hands over her mask and collar, and she leaned into my caress and closed her eyes. ‘Nice’ was an understatement.
The Interactive Bondage Museum · Part 3 (3/4)
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