On a dungeon of her own making

DISCLAIMER:

It is a lovely evening in the outskirts of the city. People do not realise because of their focus on the metropoli but a 50 minutes ride on a high-speed train would get anyone into some astonishingly striking landscapes, just full of fresh air and vegetation. And inside this haven rested a modern, Lloyd-Wrightesque appartment. There were a lot of reasons our protsgonist chose this place to make her home even if it was far from work. There is some soothing sensation permeating these areas, some comforting feeling that could ease the soul and that was exactly what our good protagonist wanted. There was also the real estate opportunity of getting a property for way less money than a place in the city. Finally there was the main reason she loved her refuge: all that green reminded her from home.

The living room and kitchen shared a glass wall that acted as a skylight. The fading light coming from the setting sun poured through the entirety of the one flat studio, making it a enviroment-friendly building with almost no need for electric lights during day. The room was decorated with a couple of indoor plants lushfully dancing to the wind and with lots of ornaments coming from Ireland. We are not talking about those leprechaun and pot of gold tourist traps, we are talking about the real Ireland: ellaborated images of banshees, Dullahan or even the Lady in Red. Our protagonist loved her culture and kept all these things to think every single day about the place she left behind and its myths and culture. The flat was in complete silence but from the dimly lit bedroom came a faint rustle. Indistinguishable for an untrained ear, the expert on the matter would inmediatly identify that friction sound. It was the rubbing of leather against skin.

Our protagonist was laying in the queen size bed wearing only some expensive black lingerie as clothes, but what would catch the eye of any observant would be everything she was wearing that wasn't clothes. Her ankles and knees were tied together, her legs bent over her lower back and were tightly fixed to her hands with a solid looking rope. The rope tying her wrists would go around her bust securing around her neck. A red ball with a leather strap would gag her while she rested on her belly, fully displayed in this defenseless situation. One more time an untrained eye would see a victim in peril. An assaulted innocent subdued on her own home. One more mistake because if she could talk through the gag blocking her mouth she would tell she was having the time of her life.

A small trail of saliva managed to slip between her lower lip and the ball gagging her when she groaned. It coursed down her svelte neck, her shoulder muscles tensed when she strained against the rope binding her well toned, slender body. Her skin would get the shivers whenever the silky rope bit into her. Ailinn was one of those people that found heaven in the bite of the rope, in the defenselessness of being totally subdued, or being in the subduing position. That sensation brought her eyes to tears of excitement every time the constraints tensed with a stiff sound, every time her hands would fight against the binds, every time her legs tried to unbend, just thinking they had a freedom they could not have. It's not like they wanted to. Her face showed some blush but this was no shame on her expression, her flush came from excitement and stimulation. Her eyes would roll up her skull for a second while her mouth let a muffled raspy moan escape even through the gag.

Through her rustling and gasping another sound could be heard in the room. It was the indistinguishable humming of an egg vibrator bringing his magic into her pussy. It wasn't a very big artifact, Ailinn was never fond of male intimate contact and she wasn't into the "big things inside me" train. It was more about skillfully moving oneself and less about size, and she knew how to make herself moan in pleasure. She had been into that session of self-bondage for some time now and it was noticeable looking at the sweat pearling her body and the heavy wet pool on her panties. She let another longer and louder moan as she braced for the climax that was going to come.

She didn't need much more time. After a couple of minutes of her moans getting more frequent and louder through the gag her hands started twitching in their constraints and her toes curled strongly while she emitted a final gasp and reached climax, eyes closed while her fluids gushed through her pussy soaking her panties and even the bedsheets. She rode the wave of her orgasm for a some seconds and then her hands started their nimble work. With some precise movements she got rid of the rope on her wrists, waist and legs and she undid the gag on her mouth. When she was done she extracted the now silent vibrator from within her with her left hand while her right arm crossed her face covering her eyes, small gasps and moans still coming from her now free mouth while she experienced the best afterglow in some time. She delighted on the sensation of freedom after such powerful subjugation for some minutes in complete silence and with her eyes closed, sunlight coming at her from the skylight on the bedroom's ceiling. Life was wonderful and so was sex, even tying oneself up was some experience for the rememberance. After what seemed like an eternity she came back to this world with the realization that she needed to slip out of those soaked undergarments and get a shower. She traveled through her studio completely naked and stepped into her shower space while noticing: she would also need to change the blankets.