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Bound to him (CubicleXQB)

It was one of his favorite ways to torture his slave: leave her bound up for a few hours, with little regard to her safety and well-being, leaving for an extended moment of time. Despite that being a total violation of the rules towards BDSM conduct, he did not follow it at all. After all, his slave was his own sex toy, there was nothing she could ever do otherwise.

Legs drawn up and bent, what one would immediately notice from her crotch was the obvious cameltoe with the addition to the slim figure of a vibrating bud the shape of a bullet whirring merrily against the thick pink flesh of her vagina. A giveaway of this was the pink wire that went from her waist and into her panties, vanishing along the way. Another vibrator, this one with a black color scheme, was nowhere to be seen, going in lower towards her anus to arouse were an anal plug would have been unnecessary. While he had many toys he could use, he found the longevity of a bullet vibrator's Double A batteries made sure that she would stay aroused longer. And to further tease her, the speed was only set to the point where she would not be able to cum. She was commanded not to orgasm and for sure she would obey...lest her master he 'disappointed' in her.

As for the top, it was obvious her brasserie was stripped from the useless bra that lay scrapped on the floor, discarded away. Her nipples stood erect behind the cloth of her shirt, a testament to her own arousal along with a spot of darkness were some saliva from her ball gag fell from. Drooling from time to time, the infamous ball gag was a size bigger than her mouth, causing more discomfort and more drooling than usual. Her collar held red twine which forced her legs, bound behind the knee with a bar spreader into such an uncomfortable manner forcing them closer to her chest. Her hands, you may ask? Bound behind her back onto a small ring drilled into the wall, arms together unable to free the prisoner from this torment.

Torment, or pure enjoyment?

Her Master had set her up for this. He forced his slave to walk along into the men's washroom where she was promptly bound up and aroused with a speed that did not allow her to orgasm on top of a command not to cum. While the door was locked, the entire bathroom was public, watching men walk here and there, doing their business and talking. Occasionally a few men would knock at her door, but no one tried to intervene. The vibrators were quiet, yet they continued to tease her with arousal that promised nothing but the inability to cum.

And so thusly, began her day in bondage, as all days had been. The only time she could call for reprieve is when he returns...
 
Oh the hell let pleasure she was in. The slave was set up for this action, all the disgusting stuff he could do to her. And this seemed to be one of them. Her red hair was plaster to her neck, her shirt tight around her breast as the vibrator vibrate on, the speed of no cum yet pleasure. She had been ordered so not to moan or cum, yet she found it difficult. It sended her the pleasure, oh god the vibrator. It had almost seems to be happy to be in her vagina. Her arms were numb from being tied back over her head, and her eyes looked on, not forcing it to close. Well master be angry if she had done so, she did not know. But it was always safe to then be sorry in the future, she noted in her mind. She could hear some occasional knocks, some peering, trying to get a better sense of look. No one tried to break in. He was her master, and those men feared him.

Can she even hold on any further?
 
Peering eyes would often see the flesh that was bound, with the stall doors one couldn't help but wonder why there was a discarded bra on the floor. Of course a few curious eyes would see, even peer through the door to see what was inside, even though not many paid mind to it. Save for a few who would knock at the door. "Hello?" they would ask and when they got no response, would simply cuss under their breath and walk away.

Of course this torture went on for a good hour or three. Even the janitor walked in and knocked at the door, asking if anyone was still inside in his accent. After trying to open the door he hooked away the bra, made a comment about dirty women and walked on out after a good mop and clean.

The torture went on for another dizzying two hours since and the door began to open then. "You sure look fabulous there, Slave." said her master as he removed her ball gag, letting the drool fall to her chest as the red ball fell down to her neck. His hands reached down and rubbed against her pussy. "Shhh...remember. Don't cum." he said, talking with little consideration for others inside. They turned a few gazes over, but overall did not make a single move. To them, it was just another crazy person talking to someone there.

When no one else was there, he locked the door and slowly walked up to his slave. "How was it? My meeting went just well. How was your appointment?" he asked. He was strict and very jealous, often quick to punish her for any attempt to reach out for help. Even talking to another would get him suspicious enough. Untying her body, he was quick to press her against the stall, kissing her lips.
 
Everything was quick until the janitor cursed, awakening her. Had she fell asleep? Oh surely it was not what she did? The vibrator kept pushing on, stroking and daring her to cum over the new floor. Dare she did not do, for making the orders disobey would result in a bad punishment. After a few moment, her ears heard the stall door opening, hearing those familiar voices speaking to her, gentle and all.

Firstly she felt the red ball removed from her lips, her tongue instantly wet the dried part of the lips. Her body was released from the bounded torture.
She let a soft moan escaped as his fingers worked perfessional my in her opening, her head flew back.

There was the pleasure she was guilty of feeling happy. There was nothing to be happy about. She was his slave, just a sex slave with no meanings. Being pressed against the stall, her feet made contact to the bare-cold floor, she was kissed, his soft lips on hers as she returns them for his pleasure, working her plump lips and tongue.
 
Feeling her tongue enter in, he slowly pulled away when Slave finished kissing him, only to slap her harshly when he was done. All the while, he kept a condescending look upon his face. "Tell me, Slave. When master asks a question, do you simply stay quiet? Is it not rude to simply ignore your master like that? Answer me." Grasping her hair, he forced her to look into his eyes before he simply let go.

Cruel and demanding, jealous and selfish. She was only for him and for him only. He would often punish her for trying to make contact with anyone else beyond a casual note. Flirting was punishable with harsh torture. Politeness had to be compensated by cumming once when she was overly curt and kind to anyone else but him. She was, after all, a slave. A slave didn't need to learn how to make friends, she only needed to know what her master wanted her to know.

"Put on your clothes. We're walking back to the car." he commanded, turning up the vibrator onto medium. Given his orders, to cum at any time was a grave crime. Ever since he started the marathon, she hadn't cummed in three days. Even when they had hot sex she was not allowed to climax. Even when masturbation she was not allowed to fully go over the edge. The tension would surely tear her apart!

Walking down the isle and the shops, a few people turned their eyes towards her, when her bra-less breasts pressed against the thin fabric of her dress, pretty much standing erect. "Are you having trouble walking?" he asked, turning down the vibrator. When she was about to reply, he turned it up to maximum speed.
 
Her eyes widened as he pulled away slowly, yet the movement made her head flew back, banging it on the plastic stall, and the hand came down onto her soft cheek, creating an echo that rang inside the men restroom. Her eyes shut closed as the pain grew to a harsh sting, making her wish she wasn't here. She knew this was not the most serious form of punishment. A slap, no that was very little. There may be things he could create that would even maybe result in death. Angel looked at him, opening her eyes slowly before she did that. I knew I should have answer that, she thought as she rubbed her arm, as if to warm it.

"M-My appointment went well," Angel replied to the long-ago question that seem to have hung in the air, waiting for her voice to reply to it, before it disappeared. Angel was used to being the person to respond the questions, not one to ask it. Asking would be for the master correct? She had always thought that. She was taught to always obey, never ask questions. As a young person, she was the one to always ask questions, her stubborn side had shown. Now with her scar at the left side of her hip, it had taught her not to do so. Punishment varies, and most masters used a tough method, and sometimes it would draw pain or even death.

"Yes," murmured the slave as she picked up the wrinkled garments, quickly drawing it over her head until it was well-fitted and looked like she had done nothing in the past few hours. She was in her skirt before the small vibration grew medium, and she clenched her part, as if shaken in surprise. Whatever pressure put on the vibrator, she felt the need to cum if stayed in there too long. Heck, if she was to walk, she would walk awkwardly.

Her eyes dried and she rubbed it, clenching her part as she quickly followed behind him, walking in a bend-down part of way. She could feel eyes staring upon her, some wondering straight to her breast.

Caught in the moment, she almost didn't catch his words. "Ye-" she began her replied word, but interrupted as the vibrating power went to its maximum level, and she bit back a moan, kneeling down immediately and clutching her stomach. It was so unbearable!
 
Her name was Angel. However, to her cruel master, she was known only by degrading nicknames like Dog, Pet, Slut, Sextoy or Slave. Slaves have no right to be called anything other than what their master desires to refer to them as. They were nothing more than art: beautiful, fine and property. When she fell to her knees clutching her stomach many turned towards her. A woman even went close and asked "Are you okay?" Some even took out their cellphones to call, but he intervened. "Ahh...my dearest will be just fine. She's just a little...weak, that's all. Isn't that right, my love?" he asked, expecting only the right answer as always: Yes.

Because her slave would never be able to say No to him.

When the lady asked for pardon, it was given to her when he lowered the speed and began to walk back up. "How humiliating that was, slave. Do you understand how much embarrassment you have caused your master?" While she had endured cruel masters, in truth he was probably the nicest one yet. He did not inflict bodily harm nor forced her to piercings. Of course when she was very naughty a few might go onto her labial lips, but on a whim? He would never do so.

Opening the door, he slowly let her in. The rules in the car was simple. She was to strip to her underwear and sit tight. If she wanted to talk, she would have to be respectful and formal to her master. While he reinforced the differences between them, he would still listen to her words on a whim from time to time. "How weary is your vagina?" he asked casually. The windows were not see-through, atleast then she was spared some humiliation from being exposed.

"Did you cum? And if not, do you want to cum?" he asked. If she was a good girl, she would still have her vibrator inside as he turned it up to high even after she disrobed into her undergarments, sitting on the backseat waiting to come home for even more torture and bondage.
 
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