October 2016
(Real-life experience)
We are in the final stages of constructing our new home, which is located on an elevated position close to the coast.
For the last few months, the place has been abuzz with numerous tradesmen going about their construction tasks. Because the construction was nearing the final stages, my husband and I were beginning to spend more time together on site, carrying out other jobs around the yard in readiness for taking up residence.
This new house is two stories high and built upon a split-level block. The house is on the highest level, and our completed workshop is located down in the backyard, which happens to be the lowest level.
The original house on the block was demolished, and the basement was retained so we could use it as a large playroom or home theatre. The basement entrance is only accessible via a doorway located on the lower level of the backyard.
Unlike the higher level, which is elevated and visible to the entire neighbourhood, the lower level of the backyard is only visible to the neighbours on either side of the block.
My husband, my 24/7 Master, has been busy replacing the old worn-out fencing around the entire block, both lower and upper levels, with a new 6-foot steel-sheeted fence.
Even though this new fence is high, the upper storey of our house is at least 24 feet higher than the lower part of the backyard, meaning the entire backyard is visible through the upstairs windows from the rear of the new house.
Although our house was nearing completion and there were still always plenty of tradesmen coming and going.
This afternoon, whilst I was assisting my Master in doing the fencing, one of the old painters was upstairs in the rear of the house fixing up the paintwork. Now and again, you could see him from the backyard through the rear windows.
The moment Master finished attaching the final sheet to the rear fence, he turned to me and instructed, “Laura, I want you to remove your clothes and hand them to me.”
“Yes, Sir,” I replied, immediately dropping into submissive mode.
The backyard was still bare at this stage, and it was in the middle of summer. Today’s temperature is getting close to 38 degrees Celsius or 100 degrees Fahrenheit, and with no sea breeze, it makes the yard feel even hotter.
I began removing my work boots and socks. I unbuttoned my work pants, letting them drop to my ankles. As it was forbidden for me to wear any knickers, I immediately felt vulnerable standing half-naked in the middle of the backyard in full view of the old painter up in the house and potentially the neighbours on either side.
Next, I removed my t-shirt, dropping it to the ground along with my other clothes. I was totally naked apart from a black leather collar I was wearing.
I was facing away from the house but couldn’t help wondering whether the painter was watching us through the upstairs windows.
The last couple of times I had been on-site at the same time as painters, they stopped work and always wanted to talk with me. I found them quite flirtatious. There was a standing joke between Master and me that the house would never get finished while I was around.
“Laura, stand ready for inspection,” Master commanded.
“Yes, Master,” I replied as I spread my legs wide apart and clasped both hands together at the back of my head.
The moment I opened my legs wide apart, the slight breeze brushing over my bald vulva reminded me of my nakedness. The moment I was placed in this vulnerable position, I immediately began to feel aroused.
Master went into the workshop and came back with a black lambskin blindfold and six lengths of rope. Each piece of rope was approximately four metres or thirteen feet in length and individually coiled. He laid out the blindfold and rope neatly on top of the work trestle he was using with his tools.
He uncoiled one piece of rope and tied it through the metal loop of my leather collar.
“Come,” he said, using the rope like a leash to guide me to the rear fence.
The rear fence had exposed posts and rails on our side of the yard. I knew that this meant there were plenty of opportunities to tie off the rope. If this was his plan, then this wasn’t going to be the first time I had ever been tied to a fence.
“Don’t look up at the house, Laura, I want you to keep staring down at the ground until I can blindfold you,” Master said sternly.
“Yes, Master,” I replied, staring directly at the ground.
I always followed his instructions, no matter what. He and I had been together in this lifestyle long enough to know that the punishments were best avoided. I always strove not to be punished.
My master guided me to a section of the fence midway between two vertical posts. He turned me around so my back was against the fence. Firstly, he turned the collar around so the loop was at the rear. He then tied the rope connected to my collar directly to the horizontal fence rail at the back of my neck, tight enough to prevent me from moving my head and upper body too much.
At this stage, my hands were still clasped together at the back of my head. Master uncoiled two more pieces of rope. He tied one end of these ropes individually around each wrist and then tied the other end to the vertical fence posts located on either side of me, so my arms were stretched out sideways.
He used an additional two pieces of rope and tied one end individually around each ankle.
“Spread your legs wide,” he instructed loudly.
I opened my legs wide apart, which dropped my body slightly, placing additional pressure around my neck and on my bound arms.
Master then slapped his hand against my inside thighs, indicating he wanted me to spread them further apart and said, “Come on, Laura, I know you can do better than that.”
“Yes, Sir, “I said, trying to open them even wider.
He then tied the ropes from my ankles off to the bottom of the same two vertical posts that my wrists were bound to.
I pulled and squirmed against the ropes, testing to see how much spare movement I had. As usual, Master had secured me tightly, so I had minimal movement.
I was so incredibly aroused by now. My legs were restrained so wide apart that my vulva and labia were open. I was so sensitive between my legs that I could feel the slightest breeze or insect touch the entrance of my vagina.
I kept staring down towards the ground as Master had instructed me. I had an almost overwhelming urge to look up at the house to see if the painter or any other tradesman was watching us.
I knew if I were caught disobeying Master’s instructions, the punishment would be severe.
The vulnerability that this situation created was making me more and more aroused by the minute.
Master went back into the workshop and came back holding a dense foam block and another piece of rope.
He pulled my waist forward away from the metal fence and placed the foam block between my lower back and the fence. This forced my back to arch and held my body taught against the restraints.
Master doubled up this extra piece of rope and looped it around my waist. He fed the two tails in through the bite of the rope and tugged it, making sure it was tight around my waist.
He passed the two rope tails down between my legs making sure they passed directly between my labia and back up through the crack of my arse and then beneath the ropes going around my waist. As soon as he pulled the two rope tails up tight, the rope bit into my Clitoris and crotch. The tails were tied off behind me.
Where the two rope tails passed over my clitoris, he spread them apart so that one piece was on either side of my clitoris. The tight ropes trapped my clitoris between them. I was so fucking horny; I was on the edge of orgasm. The slightest movement of my hips made the ropes pinch the clitoris even tighter.
Finally, now that my body was totally restrained, void of any movement, Master placed the lambskin blindfold over my eyes, blocking out all signs of light.
He tugged on the crotch rope a couple of times, as if he were testing it. With each tug, the ropes squeezed my clitoris even tighter, making me moan quite loudly.
The way he had tied me against the fence made it impossible to move. My limbs were stretched wide apart. The slightest movement of my body made the crotch rope bite even harder. I was feeling extremely aroused; the vulnerability and helplessness made my juices flow. My naked predicament was in full view of anyone working in and around our new house, not to mention our new neighbours.
Master’s hands slid over my naked body. He pinched my erect nipples each time one of his hands passed over them. His hands slid down my stomach until his fingers traced the path of the crotch rope downwards between my labia. He pulled on each Labia in turn, each time the pain made my body flinch helplessly against the ropes, each time making me moan quite loudly.
I heard Master let out a “Hmmmmm.” I then heard him go back to the workshop and return a moment later.
He had gone back to get a ball gag with a head harness. When he returned, he held the gag by the straps, pushed the ball at my lips, and said, “You need to wear this, Laura. We can’t go disturbing our new neighbours, can we?”
“No, Master, we can’t,” I replied, opening my mouth wide to accept the gag.
Once the ball gag was deep in my mouth, he buckled up the straps tightly behind my head, forcing the ball deep in my mouth.
Another leather strap was passed over the top of my head and was buckled to the strap at the back of my head, and another strap passed beneath my chin.
As soon as the chin strap was buckled up tightly, it became impossible to move the ball at all with my tongue. The chin strap held the ball even firmer in place. I could make no sounds other than a muffled moan. Drool immediately began to form, but the ball being deep in my mouth made it impossible to swallow.
He reached down between my legs and began stroking my clitoris while it was trapped between the two ropes. It was so sensitive, with each touch of his finger, my hips squirmed helplessly, and I let out a muffled moan through the gag.
“DO NOT CUM!” Master roared.
Master kept rubbing my trapped clitoris, the arousal was peaking, I could feel my body beginning to tremble, fighting against the impending orgasm. He knew me well enough that I must be getting close; I was so desperate to prevent it that it was almost painful.
When I was almost at the point of no return, he stopped rubbing my clitoris. I was panting through the gag like some despot. I knew he would have punished me if I accidentally orgasmed.
“It looks like we have a little audience, Laura,” Master said, chuckling. I see bulges in the fronts of trousers. “
His comment shocked me, and I suddenly realised that I was in full view in our backyard. I had no idea who he was talking about, and I began to feel even more vulnerable than before.
Master removed two labia clamps from his trouser pocket. Each clamp had a lead weight attached, along with a small brass bell. He knelt between my spread legs and tugged harder on each Labia, making sure it was accessible on either side of the crotch rope.
I moaned loudly each time he tugged. He attached one of the weighted clamps to the left labia and the other to the right one. I moaned loudly through the gag as each clamp bit into my sensitive flesh. He flicked his finger at each weight; I heard the little bells ring as the weights swung furiously back and forth.
I was close to orgasm again. I thought I heard extra footsteps or movement of another person close by. Then I heard the distinct noise of a camera shutter going off in front of me. The shutter sound moved around me so that this photographer could get pictures from different angles.
“Oh, my dear, looks like you are famous,” Master said, laughing.
I had no idea who was taking my pictures. I had to trust Master. This exploitation seemed to make me even more aroused.
I heard the distinct whooshing sound of a leather belt being removed from a pair of trousers. Master always had a leather belt handy, and I was used to the sound.
Moments later, “Crack!” as the belt hit my right inside thigh. The stinging sensation remained for some time.
In no time at all, my entire focus shifted away from the shutter back to what was happening between my legs. The belt's contact made the weights attached to the Labia clamps swing back and forth, pulling downwards harder on my Labia. I was oblivious to everything else around me.
Another “Crack!” of the belt in the same place as before. I moaned and held my breath as the stinging sensation slowly dissipated.
Master rubbed his hands over my breasts and squeezed each nipple tightly, making me gasp through the gag.
“Crack!” The belt hit the inside thigh of my left leg. I was still feeling the heat from the belt on my right leg, and now the left leg was catching up.
He cycled the belt from one thigh to the other, inside to outside, squeezing each nipple tightly between each slap of the belt.
He eventually removed the labia clamps, and a sharp, stinging pain made me yelp through the gag as each clamp was removed.
He untied and removed the crotch rope. Even with the rope gone, I could still feel the tingling and buzzing sensation within my clitoris. It was a sensation that was extremely hard to describe, but it stayed with me for another six hours or more.
Master plunged two of his fingers easily into my wet pussy causing me to let out a muffled moan through the gag. This time, he worked his fingers quickly in and out of me, bringing me close to orgasm in no time at all. I was saturated, his fingers making a squelching sound every time they withdrew from my vagina.
“DO NOT CUM LAURA,” he growled loudly at me.
I was so paralysed with pleasure that I couldn’t even move or shake my head in acknowledgement.
I desperately fought off the orgasm, my entire body trembling and tensing so as not to be punished. He brought me right to the edge of orgasm until I was at a point where I couldn’t take it any longer, and then suddenly stopped. He used his hand and smacked my pussy with hard rapid slaps.
The moment he stopped with the pussy slaps he plunged his fingers back inside my vagina again. When I was about to cum, he withdrew he fingers and slapped my pussy again.
I think he cycled through that about five or six times. I was too aroused, so far into subspace that I was unaware of everything and anything else around me other than a feeling of intense, extreme pleasure.
Master briefly removed the gag, only long enough to remove the blindfold from beneath the straps of the head harness. It took a while for my eyes to readjust to the bright sunlight.
When the blindfold was out of the way, he resecured the ball gag head harness.
“You have my permission to look up at the house, Laura,” Master said.
I immediately looked up at the rear windows of the first floor. I could see the painter standing in his coveralls through the window. He was staring down, smiling, watching us with his fat hard cock in his hand. He was stroking it with long, slow movements. We locked eyes on each other. He must have been watching us the entire time.
“Shame,” Master said. “The photographer had to leave but said he may be back later on.”
For some reason, these words made me even more aroused than I already was. The thought of people watching Master dominate me was arousing, if not exciting. Then, someone else, some stranger, was allowed to take my picture, which was something Master would never usually allow. On the same token, it gave me a little fear with an accompanying shot of adrenaline.
I found it almost impossible to take my eyes off the painter who was still watching us and stroking his cock a little faster. I was transfixed on the large upstairs windows of the house, watching the painter slowly stroke his big cock.
Master leant down between my legs and started thrusting his fingers in and out of the entrance to my vagina. I maintained my visual on the painter in the window as master’s fingers squelched and slurped in and out of my saturated pussy.
“I want you to cum hard Laura, you have my permission,” Master said.
Without hesitation, as if by magic, upon hearing those words, I orgasmed so hard that I squirted. The orgasm flooded through my entire body; every muscle tensed uncontrollably. Master kept finger fucking me and only stopped after I had another as equally intense orgasm. The whole time I stared at the painter imagining his thick cock pounding into me.
“Laura, I can see your fascination with that fat cock in that window upstairs. Maybe, I might have to arrange something.” Master said cheekily. “Be careful what you wish for, Laura, you might end up with more than you can chew.”
My master untied me from the fence. My legs and arms were stiff and shaking, and he helped me get them back so that I could stand.
He unbuckled the gag from me and led me over to the centre of the yard. I felt like a limp rag doll, exhausted, with an ultrasensitive clitoris.
Master grabbed hold of the rope that was still attached to the loop in my collar and pulled me towards the ground and said, “Kneel.”
I was facing sideways to the house, in the centre of the dirt-covered yard. Master pulled my face close as he unzipped his trousers and pulled out his half hard cock. The moment his cock fell in front of my lips, I opened my mouth and began sucking it. In no time at all, it was hard, and I was soon tasting the precum as it leaked from the tip.
“Suck hard Laura, suck it like it’s the last one on earth,” Master instructed loudly.
I sucked it as eagerly as I could, just like I had been trained. It was my job to worship his or anybody's else’s cock to provide the maximum amount of pleasure possible. When I started to suck it, I first just worked my lips around the rim and head and then worked it deeper into my throat. I wrapped an index finger and thumb tightly around the base of the cock, trapping the blood to make it bigger and harder. I eagerly worked the entire length, now and again, almost gagging.
As I sucked Master’s cock, I cast my eyes sideways to see if the painter still watching us.
The moment Master was about to cum, he began thrusting his hips back and forth until he filled my mouth with several squirts of hot sweet ejaculate. He let out a loud roar when he came, I eagerly kept sucking squeezing my lips around the shaft making sure I milked every single drop of cum from his body.
“Ah, the fascination with the painter is still strong. Good girl,” Master said.
“Would like some more cum? Someone else’s, someone different?” Master asked almost tongue-in-cheek.
“Yes, please, Master. I am here to be your receptacle of pleasure, yours and anyone you choose,” I replied without hesitation.
“Such a good little Sub, I trained you well, “he said, smiling.
After he put his cock back into his trousers, he pulled me up onto my feet. He took a piece of rope and tied my wrists together in front so there were at least two meters of loose rope tails. He buckled the head harness ball gag back on me, making sure that each of the leather straps was tight, preventing me from saying a word.
“You have been such a good girl, Laura. I think it’s time we share some of this pleasure around,” Master said with a smile.
He grabbed some extra pieces of rope and shoved them into his pockets. Holding onto the loose rope tails from my wrists, he led me naked up the stairs and into the back of the house.
Drool mixed with some of master’s cum was stringing its way from the corner of my gagged mouth and down my front. My body was covered in drool, dirt and dust, I looked like such a filthy slut, when I saw my reflection in a mirror leaning against a wall waiting to be mounted.
The ball gag was in my mouth so tightly that it prevented me from swallowing.
I was led upstairs into the kitchen and living room. After pondering for several moments, my Master looked around and decided to position me facing the balustrade at the top of the staircase. It was an open-type balustrade with a thick timber crossbeam and vertical metal bars.
“I think this will be perfect,” Master said.
Using the loose ends of the rope, he tied my wrists firmly to the underside of the timber crossbeam of the balustrade and used the remaining length to tie my collar to the top of the same beam. I was now forced to be bent over. He took another piece of rope from his pocket and tied off each ankle to the vertical bars, making sure my legs were held wide apart and that I was totally accessible from behind.
He inserted a couple of fingers inside my vagina exclaimed, “Oh, I can’t believe how aroused you must be. You are so unbelievably wet!”
Drool and some of master’s cum was stringing its way from my mouth through the gag, to make a small puddle on one of the stair treads beneath my head.
“I am going to leave you here, Laura. I know you’re going to be in several safe hands. I’ll be back in a little while to take you back home,” Master said as he began walking back down the stairs.
I heard him downstairs talking to someone. I listened intently, but I couldn’t work out what they were saying or who he was talking to. I wasn’t sure if I could hear two or three different voices. A short while later, I listened to the familiar sound of our car engine starting and eventually drove off up the street.
I assumed Master must be heading back to the house we were renting.
I was feeling a mixture of nervousness and arousal. I didn’t know exactly what was going to happen, but I think I had a fair idea, especially after Master said he wanted to share some of the pleasure around. I felt very vulnerable and exposed. My clitoris was still tingling from the crotch rope and the intense orgasms I had earlier.
A few minutes later, the painter came up the staircase. As he climbed past me, he wiped his big, rough hand over my drool-covered chin.
“Mmmmm, what have we got here? You are such a horny little slut. I watched every minute of you with your Master.,“ the painter said.
The painter came around behind me and started exploring my body with his rough hands. His hands felt large and rough from years of hard labour. My nipples were already hard and erect, and still sensitive from being squeezed earlier. I flinched against the ropes the moment he pinched my nipples between his fat fingers.
The painter then ran his hand down my naked back and over my arse cheek. His fingers soon found their way down between my legs at the entrance to my pussy. He squeezed the Labia between his thumb and index finger, making my body buck and letting out a loud moan through the gag.
“Oh, you’re such a wild thing, Slut. You loved that, I can tell,” the painter said, laughing.
The painter inserted one fat finger into my vagina, I gasped through the gag, but I also instinctively pushed my hips back into his hand.
“You fucking Slut, you want more, don’t you? You want it bad, don’t you? “He roared.
I nervously nodded my head as if to say yes. It just happened, almost as an autonomous response to his words.
“I thought so. I can fucking tell,” replied the painter.
Straight away, the single finger was replaced with a second one, fatter than the first.
His fingers were thick and when the two were inserted into my tight pussy together, I moaned even louder through the gag.
“Mmm you are so fucking wet and so fucking tight,” the painter said as he twisted his fingers around deep inside me.
I moaned loudly through the gag; his fingers filled me. I was unintentionally pushing back into his hand, as if I was subconsciously trying to tell him I wanted it deeper.
After plunging his fat fingers in and out of me several times, I pushed backwards into his hand, my body began to shake, seconds later, an uncontrollable orgasm flooded through my entire body.
“Oh Fuck! You’re a horny little slut!” he bellowed loudly.
“Oh, you want this so much, don’t you? “The painter said. “You want me deep inside you, don’t you?”
“How would you like me to fuck you long and deep with my big fat cock?” He continued saying. “My cock deep inside you, impaling you, and then filling you full of my thick cum,” he bellowed.
I nodded my head as if to say, yes, please. I was already panting through the gag from arousal, I wanted to be fucked so badly. I had wanted a cock inside me as soon as Master started dominating me. The painter knew it; he could tell.
I heard the painter rip open the press studs of his coveralls and pull them down to his ankles.
He moved into position behind me, his body pressing against my arse cheeks with his long fat cock between my arse cheek, pressing against my labia. His cock was hard and I could feel its girth as it pressed against me. I don’t really know if it was subconsciously or instinctively, I wriggled my arse against him, as an invitation to fuck me.
“Wow, you are a horny little slut,” he said.
“I know you want this; you might have to beg me for it,” he said, laughing.
I moaned through the gag and tried pushing back harder into him. I just wanted him to shut up and fuck me.
The painter grabbed hold of his cock by its thick shaft and began rubbing its bulbous head up and down through my wet vulva. Every time his cock came close to the entrance of my pussy I pushed back or moved my arse slightly as if I was trying to guide it into the correct hole.
He was fucking teasing me with it, the more it slid through my wet slit the more I wanted it inside me. It felt like an eternity.
The painter suddenly stopped and pushed the big head of his cock into the entrance of my vagina. I moaned loudly as my vulva stretched apart to take it inside me. Oh fuck, it was so thick and so hard.
He slowly inched inside me, filling me and stretching me. Every time he pushed a little deeper, I let out a muffled yelp through the gag. His cock felt huge, especially as it penetrated deeply, displacing my cervix.
I couldn’t help but moan, the pain of it stretching my vagina, but mainly from the pleasure it was beginning to give me. As it stretched my vagina, it placed tension on my already sensitive and well used clitoris.
When this long fat cock was finally buried to the hilt, I felt like I had been impaled. Slowly, he began to withdraw it, my pussy lips were automatically clamping it tight as if to prevent it from leaving.
“You have such a tight hungry hole Slut,” The painter informed me.
I could feel the thick head of his cock pulling against the underside of my pussy lips when it was nearly out. It was like the head was too big to escape from the entrance. The pleasure was blowing my mind. The slower he did this, the more I felt, the more intense the pleasure became.
After a few seconds, the painter slowly pushed his fat cock back inside me to the hilt, making me moan loudly again in the process. I could feel every bump and blood-engorged vein along its shaft as it passed back in through my vagina opening.
I couldn’t hold on any longer, four or five thrusts later, I orgasmed. My pussy muscles tightly clamping his hard shaft. My entire body shook with pleasure.
“Oh, you are fucking loving this, aren’t you bitch,” he shouted behind me. “I bet it’s not often you get a big cock like mine.”
I nodded in agreement as I panted and tried pushing backwards into him even more than before.
He began to rhythmically fuck me with long slow thrusts, each thrust was intentionally slow, making me feel every inch of it as it slid deep into me. He paused momentarily every time it was buried to the hilt, reminding me that I was impaled on the end of his cock. He felt part of me each time.
He fucked me for quite some time, the girth of his cock was tightly stretching the area around my clitoris making it ultrasensitive. I was moaning louder and louder through the gag.
I began having multiple orgasms; I couldn’t stop them from coming even if I wanted to try. Each orgasm seemed slightly more intense than the one before it. I could feel my juices beginning to flood from me, his shaft feeling slick from the excessive lubrication.
“Oh, look at that Slut, you have made my cock all creamy looking,” he said laughing.
I could hear the painter beginning to pant behind me, his thrusting quickened, his grip tightening on my hips, and he was slamming harder into me.
I knew he must be close to cumming.
He started slamming into me harder and harder, each time pulling me backwards by my hips with his huge hands to meet his thrusts. I moaned loudly and could feel a massive orgasm not far away.
My body suddenly tensed as the orgasm flooded through my entire body, I squirmed uncontrollably with the painter’s cock deep inside me. The orgasm was so intense that it caused me to squirt, spraying the dusty floor with my juices.
Having seen what this orgasm did to me, the painter roared behind me, his cock felt like a steel rod. He suddenly started pumping numerous loads of hot cum into my vagina. I couldn’t believe the amount of ejaculate he had to give me; he must have been storing it up for months.
After filling me with cum, he stopped thrusting and left his cock deep inside me. I could feel it slowly start to shrink. Eventually, the moment he withdrew his cock, his cum followed out of my vagina and dribbled down on to the dusty floor beneath me.
Just then, my master made his way up the staircase to find us both in a lather of perspiration and the place smelling like sex. I was completely unaware he had even returned.
“How was it?” Master asked the painter.
“Oh, she loved every moment of it, she is such a horny little slut,” the painter replied.
“Good. Depending on how things go here with this build, you may even get another chance,” Master told the painter with a smile on his face.
Master untied my ankles and wrists from the balustrade and helped me to stand back upright. My pussy felt sensitive from being stretched, and I felt euphoric, almost lightheaded. I was still panting from the intense fucking.
Master had bought back one of my robes to wear and placed it over my shoulders. My wrists were still tied together. He tied them to the loop on my collar and guided me down the stairs and outside to the car. As I walked, I could feel the painter’s cum oozing out of my pussy and down my inside thighs. With my wrists secured to my collar, there was nothing I could do.
As I was being guided through the side door, another tradesman met us at the doorway. He had a surprised look on his face, seeing a half-naked woman with her mouth gagged and wrists bound coming out of the house.
Before he could say anything, Master turned to this tradesman and said, “Don’t worry; do a good job, and you might get a turn.” He added, “Ask the painter what he thought.”
It made me feel a little humiliated, being seen almost naked with fresh cum running down my inside thighs and smelling like fresh sex.
But this is precisely what Master wanted.
