Bootlicker

Author's Note: Second story. I like criticism. From a very young age, I had fantasized about being tied up tightly. Not even in a sexual way, really. I must have been about 13 or 14 when I searched for images of tied up women on the internet, and ways I could tie myself up, although I never actually had the courage to tie myself up. These web searches landed me on various bdsm sites, and so this desire to be tied up soon led to a desire to be humiliated, used and, to an extent, tortured. Of course I never told any of my friends or anybody that I really knew. Even if on the extremely rare occasion, my friends would joke about being tied up and that sort of thing, or see an S&M scene in a movie and say things like, “That’s you in the movie. That’s your wet dream isn’t it”, which would result in immature laughter, there was just no way I could tell anyone. It wasn’t even a trust issue, I just didn’t want to be seen that way. ...

Author's Note: Comments are appreciated. They’re fun to read, whether good or bad. :) Chapter 1 Here I am padlocked inside of a cage that I barely fit into, wrists cuffed behind my back with tight black leather cuffs, my ankles similarly cuffed, and a ring-gag fitted tightly in my mouth. To make it worse the cage is in the corner of a basement that has been converted into a dungeon, which belongs to a professional dominatrix that I’ve never even met before. I’ve been in here for almost two hours now and being on my knees with my body bent over so that my face is just centimetres from the ground has gotten extremely uncomfortable. The black latex catsuit that I’m wearing doesn’t do anything to relieve the discomfort either. It just makes me hot and sweaty, especially with the weather lately. I have no hope or raising the top half of my body or moving around, so I just stay in this position. A leather curtain has also been draped over the cage creating total darkness and adding further to the heat. Here’s how I got here. ...