Tension

I’d spent the past week preparing, repeatedly checking my setup, everything was ready, nothing left to chance. I dreaded what the night would bring, at the same time I was resigned to my fate, it excited me. A flock of butterflies had been bouncing around my tummy since this morning, the ‘big’ panties I had stuffed up my cunt hole were now saturated and my arousal was leaking out forming a wet patch on my jeans. My phone vibrated, I jumped, even though I’d been watching the seconds tick away toward ten o’clock. Time to begin. I stripped leaving all my clothes draped over the arm of the sofa. I walked through my kitchen and out into the garage closing the door behind me. 

The previous owner had been a keen handyman so the garage was insulated and heated. But he’d taken off on his motorbike with a younger woman. His wife sold the house to me complete with all his tools. I had since taken an evening class to learn some woodworking skills, my single motivation… I could make better restraints and ‘devices’. 

I took a five kilo bag of ice from the freezer and emptied it into the waiting metal bucket and hung it on its hook. A cord from this hook passed over two pulleys and down to a second bucket with a five kilo weight already in it that balanced the ice. Gradually the ice would melt and the water would flow through a thin plastic tube fixed in the second bucket. The second bucket hung directly above where my chest would be on my floor device. 

That was my first timer/tormentor ready. For my second, I had a similar arrangement of two buckets, these would be directly behind where I lay on my floor device but would pull on a crotch rope of sorts via a pulley on the ceiling.

I put freshly charged batteries in the two magnetic links. I’d tested these with various little bulbs and resistors until I got the duration I wanted. These were my release mechanism, when the batteries ran down the electro-magnets grew weaker and the links would separate.

For tonight’s trial I had to have my tits accurately positioned, my nipples in exactly the right place. I was quite proud of the solution I’d come up with, I’d made what I like to call a ’boxbra’. It fitted perfectly against my torso but instead of two nicely shaped cups, each of my F-cup tits would slide into a square section, wooden tube. When I say slide, fitting this box bra wasn’t so easy. I’d lined the insides with coarse sandpaper, not to make the fitting difficult, but to be sure nothing moved if I started sweating. I leant forward offering my tits to the brabox, then holding it with one hand I reached into the tubes one at a time and pulled my nipples through. It was tight and the sandpaper made it much more difficult than the trial fitting I’d done without it. I only got about two thirds of the way in. I persevered and by grabbing a handful of nipple and areola and by pulling left, right, up and down I gradually teased them completely into the tubes. They overflowed a little but just as I wanted my nipples were perfectly central. Despite all my tugging and teasing I really didn’t feel much discomfort. That would soon change. I had some antiseptic cream on hand and I wanted to give each nipple and areola a generous coating. Of course I didn’t allow myself the pleasure of smearing it on gently with a finger. I squeezed an inch long line of cream above my left nipple then using a spare piece of coarse sandpaper spread it roughly over the end of my tit, repeating on the other. Then applying a second thicker covering for good measure. 

I sat on the mechanics inspection trolley to put on my leather ankle cuffs. I'd bought these a couple of years before when I started tying myself in suspension positions, even over long periods of time they’re secure and don’t cut my circulation off. I strapped them on, they were already tied to a rope which ran around the legs of the workbench. Actually this was two ropes connected in the middle by one of my magnetic links. I’d checked, the workbench was securely bolted to the wall. I lay back and centred myself on the trolley, reaching down and working by feel I tightly buckled the straps across my hips and tummy. Reaching behind me I picked up the snap hook for my crotch rope. I bent forward as well as I could and carefully placed the crotch rope against my cunt.

Then I remembered my panties. Shit! I moved the crotch rope away. With thumb and index finger I felt in my hole for the panties, I was so wet it was difficult at first to grip them. Finding a section of hem I pulled, slowly the soaking panties slid form my hole. I did consider throwing them aside, but no, they were part of my plan, they might be useful later. I tipped my head back opened my mouth and started dropping the sodden panties into my mouth pulling them in with my lips and pushing them into my cheeks with my tongue. I got most of them in before I had to start pushing with my fingers. Even with my mouth open I could feel my own juices oozing from the material and running down my throat. 

I set the crotch strap again and clicked on the snap hook. Everything below my waist was ready, now some finishing touches for my tits. The outer brabox walls extended backwards at my sides and had locating dowels fitted which matched holes I’d drilled in the trolley. And to be sure nothing could move, latches secured my brabox to the trolley. Closing the latches proved more difficult than I had planned, I could get everything in the right place but when I pushed against the latches with the heel of my hand my chest expanded and moved. Finally by exhaling and making a conscious effort to stay still I got the latches snapped shut. The effect this constriction had on my tits was mesmerising, as I breathed the overflowing portions of my tits rose and fell as my lungs expanded and contracted my rib cage below. I tried to rub my pussy against the crotch strap in time with my breathing but there was no pressure there yet. The ice wouldn’t start to melt and flow as water quite yet. I reached up and lowered the bucket which was to torment my tits, the bottom of this bucket had a four sided frame attached which fitted exactly over my brabox sliding further down the brabox the heavier the bucket got. I tested it just to be sure, gently pushing it down until I felt the sharp skewers against my nipples. I raised it a little knowing that soon it would slowly, mercilessly descend without my control.

I tended to my head and hands. I buckled the suspension cuffs around my wrists, checking at the same time that I would be able to reach the ropes and snap the cuffs to them. My head was easy, I put the blindfold on, it was thick leather and sheepskin lined. Then over the blindfold I buckled a strap that kept my head nestled in the head shaped form I’d made using plastic bags and expanding foam. 

I reached for the ropes that would secure my arms, gradually pulling them through my fingers until I reached the loops. I held the snap hooks on my cuffs open and hooked them into the rope loops. I relaxed, breathing steadily, imagining my nipples rising and falling, the sharp pointed skewers just above. Did I really want to go through with this, it was foolish, what if I couldn’t cope with the pain? What then? As I lay there considering my folly the bucket which would tighten my crotch strap began to descend, the crotch strap pressed lightly against my pussy. A surge of adrenaline and excitement overtook me. Oh god yes I wanted to go through with it. I pulled hard on my arm ropes until they came to me slightly, the sound of two pieces of wood falling to the floor sealed my fate. They were all that supported the 56 pound weight that now pulled on my wrist cuffs, even if I wanted to I’d be unable to unclip the cuffs from the ropes. I felt the tension throughout my body, my legs wide and straight, my back, my shoulders and it all fuelled the desperate need in my pussy. 

So far the crotch strap felt great, with the limited movement my bondage allowed me I could rub against it getting some desperately needed sensation. I don’t know how long it took, I’d almost forgotten about my tits, I was reminded as I became aware of a sharpness at both nipples. Part of me was pleased that I’d made my device so well that both skewers started pressing at the same time. I felt the sharp insistent pain increase as I inhaled and ease as I exhaled. I focused on it wondering how long it would take. And I knew there was worse to come. There was no more rubbing on the crotch strap, it had tightened enough that the thirty blunt thumb tacks were pressing into my tender flesh. And even now, I was aroused by my predicament. 

I tried to relax, to concentrate on the sharp pressure in my cunt, tilting my pelvis the little I could to try and coax an orgasm. I got close, I was about to give up trying when the pain in my nipples suddenly increased. I had sharpened the skewers well, the increasing weight began to drive them through my nipples, lubricated as they were by the liberal coating of antiseptic cream. I began to wish I’d made a trigger device that fell in one single move delivering all its pain in one quick hit. My mind turned to thoughts of other devices, could I make an effective whipping machine to whip my cunt while my tits were being skewered. And now I felt the eight sharpened nails pressing into my areola. Two inches of skewer must have pierced through my nipples into my tit meat before the nails touched my skin. Every breath seemed to press them further, deeper. Still the pressure increased, One by one I felt the nails pierce my skin, I tried to take shallow breaths, for a little while it worked, the nails and skewers didn’t proceed further and the pain started to ease a little. Again I became aware of the nagging ache from the tension in my shoulders and back, if I could just pull in the ropes an inch… In preparation to pull I took a deep breath, my nips rose and the nails and skewers descended. I tried to scream as sixteen nails embedded themselves an inch into my areola and the skewers sank an inch deeper. My panties stiffled the scream, I bit down on them and the last of my juices ran into my throat causing me to gag tightening my stomach despite the tight bondage my pussy moved and a single thumbtack scratched its blunt point across my clitoris. My whole body started to shake in reaction to the pain, tension and yes arousal. My orgasm was a shuddering, violent, agonising, amazing experience, it seemed to go on and on. I don’t know if I fell asleep or passed out but I was woken or brought to my senses by the sound of the 56 pound weight crashing to the floor and the sudden agony in my joints as the tension released.

I lay for a while gently moving my shoulders before slowly removing my bonds, all the while thinking; “How do I make a random interval pussy whipper?”