Part Two - The Dining Table
The straps securing the spreader bar were removed and I was allowed to walk around with your assistance. Reaching to remove the blindfold, you stopped me. "That is so you don't see the other surprises I have for you." You told me.
"But, but, I just want to have a rest," I stammered in return.
"Look, I'm allowing you up to walk a bit, move around to get the blood circulating again – that is all you need for now." You said, with quite a firm tone.
I decided it was NOT worth arguing about. I took a deep breath and exhaled audibly. Your snicker told me you approved. My thoughts interrupted by you tugging me in a different direction than I was initially going. "What?" I questioned.
"Time to move on to new limits." You stated.
Complaining, "Not already, let me walk this out a little." I whined.
"NO, it's time!" You declared.
Pulling me half backwards I was led to my next position. I felt cold wood against the back of my upper thighs. Mentally accessing the situation, I determined the only wood in the house that high had to be the dining room table. I realized I was facing away from the table. You placed the securing straps just above my knees and then connected the spreader bar in place on the front side of my legs. You pushed me backwards onto the tabletop, causing my legs to come off the floor due to where they were secured. My torso fully on the table, with legs halfway to the floor, I must have been quite a site; it definitely was uncomfortable.
I felt my wrists being grabbed and security straps placed on each forearm. My arms pulled overhead and snapped together, both were secured tightly in place, cradling my head between them. Next you raised my legs and secured them to whatever was holding my arms still. Once again, I was vulnerable and wholly accessible from any venue.
"Because you were so vocal the last time round, I'm going to have to ensure nobody hears you this time." You said as you slipped a ball gag into my mouth. The only fussing I could do was muffled and useless anyways, so I lay silent.
Cool objects were rested atop my nipples, first one then the other had then my nipples were "sucked" into the cup...realizing you had the "cupping sets" out and now in place. When I squirmed in discomfort you determined that the nipples were extended enough for the time being. Your whistling quite distracting as you go about "prepping" me for my next limits test.
The bell once again pressed into the palm of my hand to be used as a signaling device to stop if enough is enough. My mind was already on high alert and anticipating anything.
Your hands were wondering over my uncomfortably positioned body; working towards my exposed nether region. Once you reached my shaven lips I could feel your fingers tracing my lips, nudging them gently open. "Whap" went the stinging strips of the cat-o-nine tail upon my entire bottom region, and a second time. It stung, but grunts were all that was heard. Less power was applied to the next series of precision, guided strikes. I felt my lips beginning to get hotter than ever noticed, with my pussy taking the brunt of the most recent applications.
Fluid began to drool forth and run down my exposed ass crack. I felt you raise my butt so you could place a towel or cloth beneath me so as not to damage the table finish.
"AWWWWW" was all you could hear beneath my gag as you then applied ice to the reddened area. When you slid it across my clit, I nearly rang the bell, but let the process continue, thinking that if you did it again, I'd have to quit. Chilly water mixing with my female fluids ran quickly and pooled where my backside met the table. The liquid was making me deeply uncomfortable, but you had insisted on making me reach my limits and discomfort was NOT a limit, merely a challenge.
"Whap, whap again the lashes fell upon my now wet butt and pussy. I found I could swivel a bit on the table and believe me, I was moving in earnest to escape the stings. Then came the ice again, to cool and soothe the burning flesh.
When you rubbed the ice around working toward the clit, I got edgy, but you brushed on by and slipped it deep into my pussy. That was an odd feeling, but nothing worth ringing a bell over.
With melting ice water flowing freely out of me, I didn't readily notice the other cold until it began pressing into me. As you slowly opened the mouth of the device, instantly I knew you had in me the vaginal speculum that opens sideways instead of vertically. Although it isn't the nicest thing in the world it is far from the cruelest.
"MMMMMMMM, nice and juicy in there," I heard you comment. It was easy to recognize your finger pressing here and there, exploring the area, like you were seeking something in particular. Then it dawned on me that you sought out the hidden "g-spot." When you thought you had located it you pressed on into it...but that only really was uncomfortable and I wiggled, so you would recognize this was not what you sought.
Bit by bit you pressed more and more onward until you hit a spot that made me want to pee. Squirming again, you confidently asked me "that's it, isn't it? Nod your head if it is."
I nodded.
Then the rubbing began, slowly, very slowly, steadily, back, and forth, for what seemed an eternity I had to go to the bathroom and was frightened I would.
Soon, the warmth of your breath was felt and then the delicious feeling of your gentle tongue as it began to work in an opposite direction of the finger rubbing inside.
Once again, my body a bundle of nerve endings all wrapped into one deliciously uncomfortable ball. The intensifying pressure within and without burning a persistent pleasure, working forth toward a now impending orgasm. The feeling was rather indescribable as it was trying to manifest into complete results. My bladder seemed fuller than ever and the pleasure center wasn't as sensitive allowing more tongue pressure and suction that I imagined I could stand.
Somehow the working inside minimized the pleasures outside. Enough juice had escaped to lube up a horse by now and where it pooled made a convenient reservoir for your absent finger. However, that changed about the same time I thought about it.
One steady digit began it's insertion into my previously warn out backside, then a second one joined in. When you drew my clit into your lips and stroked it with your tongue, my body quaked in a rhythmic crescendo of contractions felt from my toes to my nose. I heard you slurping the liquid as it was expelled and there must have been plenty, as you seemed never to stop. Nor did you hesitate to brush my swollen and agonized clit as you lapped it all up. This caused additional jerks and sputters from an already stressed body.
How long you did that I don't know, but each touch to the clit provoked yet another spasm, until it seemed one continued on into the other.
At last, you removed your fingers from my backend and withdrew the one rubbing on the g-spot. Finally you removed the speculum and patted down my soaked nether region.
You released my legs from overhead and from the spreader bar, which were now quite numb and my arms were let go, but remained secured together and lastly you removed the glass cups from my swollen nipples. Once that was done I was allowed to try and stand...again, blindfold and ball gag had to remain in place.
I had to rely on the strength of the table to hold me steady. You took my hand and made me to walk around for a little while. Then I was placed against the wall and told to stand.
There was noise, but what you were doing was unknown completely.
You grabbed my hands and once again I was moved and placed against a cloth object with something solid behind it. From what I could tell I was back against the dining table, but facing it this time. I was pressed forward, arms stretched above my head. My assumptions correct again. The table it was, but the center leaf had been removed.
As I went forward, my tits fell into the recesses between the tabletop, left to just hang. However hanging free isn't what you wanted. You pushed the pieces of the table together trapping both tits between them. Since I still had the bell, I knew I could ring it if you had got too far out of control. When you had the table as tight as you wanted, you reached beneath to check how firm the tits were now. It was obvious you weren't satisfied as you pushed it a bit more together squeezing them more firmly and securely in place.
It was certain I'd be going nowhere soon, even if not tied down. You reached under the table again and pulled a nipple and rotated in your fingers; twisting it and pulling forth and I moaned a most painful groan to no avail. You seemed to milk the nipple in a tight rotating motion. This really hurt and I rang the bell.
"What's the matter, I thought you enjoyed nipple torture?" You tauntingly asked me.
