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Subject: Erotica Vault story post, Colleagues post 1 of 3 (Ffm, bd, ltx, cst, tg,ds)
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        Posted from the Erotica Vault           
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        Colleagues post 1 of 3          
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Copyright 1998 CDP

Colleagues

What an awful day it was, weather grim, snacks machine empty and me working on
a Friday evening. The building was a morgue, no one around on my floor and no
noise what at all.  It could be worse, it might be blazing hot sunshine 
outside
and the coffee machine empty, it is empty, the grim sign shining gleefully in
my face. At least I'll get paid, so what, I'm still bored which ever way I
look at the situation. A fellow colleague walked into the little room. She was
about five foot ten inches tall, with long curly deep copper coloured hair,
almost pre-Raphaelite in appearance probably not a perm as she had Celtic
colouring with bluegreen eyes behind glasses, long black fitted skirt with a
slit up the side, polo necked top, black suede square heeled court shoes with
a two inch heel and a bright red short cropped jacket.  I bet she feels the
same
as I do.  "Oh hello there.", I said, trying to sound happy.  "Hello.", she
said
matter of factly.  "The machine's
knackered.", I said observantly.  She turned around smiled weakly at me and
trudged out of the room.  She worked in Personnel in a small open plan office
unlike our rabbit warren of hutches. I tried to remember her name, it was 
Christine.
I made my way back to my cubicle.  Nearly finished now, only a few minutes to
go and
then I can put my jacket and coat on and brave the rain to the station.

The phone rang, it was an internal call. I picked up the receiver after the
first ring, hoping it wasn't a serious problem. "Hello ?", said the voice,
firmly. I answered and gave my usual, efficient, departmental information to
the voice at the other end. I looked at my screen and gave an internal sigh of
relief as I noticed that my work was now finished. I wasn't listening to the
voice. It spoke in a low husky tone. It was a woman whose voice I recognised.
It was the lady from personnel. It was Christine. She said she had a problem
with her electronic mail and could I help her. I replied that yes I'd have a
look and I'd be down to her office in a few minutes. Well, why not ? I'd
finished what I had to do and I could do with a change of scenery and someone
to talk to other than myself and an empty flat and anyway it was part of my
job
description.  

What was she doing here on a Friday night ? Probably the same as me, working
late. Bad luck for her too and she's got a problem. Well I'll be coming to her
rescue, I hope ! I took the lift down to her floor and strolled down the
corridor to her office. I knocked on the green door. I heard a muffled sound
from within which sounded like "enter", so I did. She was sitting down on a
swivel chair in front of her desk, which had a computer, screen on it. I 
walked
over to her. "Hello", I said, "what's the problem ?". "I can't read my mail",
she replied. "Do you mind if I borrow your terminal a minute or two while I
have a look ?", I asked. "No problem. I'll just get you a seat," she said,
looking at me over the tops of her spectacles. She wheeled the chair over to
the desk next to hers and steered an empty chair towards me. I sat down and
looked at the screen, pulling the keyboard towards me, my hands resting on the
arms of the chair while I stared intently in front. 

She leaned from her chair over to my left side as I looked at the screen and
she gently held my left wrist with her right hand.  She looked at me and
smiled.  I turned my head to the left to look at her. She said, "I'm not sure
what's wrong". I looked into her eyes and noticed a something I had never seen
in her eyes, a calculating gleam somewhere in the back of her mind, out of
character with the look she normally had on workdays. I should have realised
then.
Her hand on my wrist felt warm and sensual so I looked at it and noticed it
was
leather covered. She had her gloves on, indoors ? The slightly scatter brained
slow
look in her eyes had evaporated to be replaced by a steely glint. She moved as
if to
stand up, but only rose just above my head as her left hand reached over to
hold my
right wrist. My smile had disappeared from my lips and from my eyes as I sat
back in
the chair, a puzzled expression creasing my brow. I heard two clicks as she
pushed my chair back and stood up to her full height.

"Just relax and enjoy yourself," she whispered in my ear as her face loomed
over mine, her auburn hair brushing my left hand. "Do what I tell you and 
you'll
get a lot out of this." "Out of what ?" I asked, my voice raising an octave as
I tried to stand up and found my left wrist had been handcuffed to the arms of
the chair. "Be quiet and hold still", she said reassuringly by way of her
reply. She secured my other wrist to the other chair arm with another pair of
handcuffs. Then she picked up a roll of gaffer tape from the desk, and swiftly
pulled off a length of tape, which was effortlessly placed over my mouth. 
She pushed my chair back and stood in front of me. She moved her
hands swiftly forward, aiming for a point somewhere in the middle of my body.
It happened so fast that I was caught unawares. She propelled herself forward
so
that the tops of her calves and knees rested on my thighs, pining my legs to
the
chair, leaving them immobile, her weight pressing me into the chair. Her hands
moved swiftly and surely, undoing the buckle on my belt, pulling the zip on
the
fly of my trousers open and yanking them down to below my knees. Then her
black leather gloved hands pulled my boxer shorts swiftly down my thighs 
leaving
my crotch exposed. I looked aghast at her, dumbfounded.

Her slim, smooth, black leather sheathed fingers went about their business
quickly and efficiently. Around my testicles and penis, completely enclosing
them, she placed a leather covered, rubber and stainless steel spike lined bag
whose strap, which rested against my abdomen, she buckled tightly and then
snapped a small padlock shut with a look of relish o her lips. I caught the
fragrance of her perfume and smelt her hair as her head was only centimetres
from my nose. The spikes lining the bag were small stainless steel ones a 
couple
of millimetres in length and rounded, an irritant if I moved too much but
comfortable if I stayed still. The movement of her fingers around my genitals
had caused my penis to become erect. I realised that my erection was 
detrimental
to my comfort as the spikes pressed into the flesh of penis and it started to
feel
painful. My penis had been placed in a thick rubber sheath, which had a 'D'
ring on
the end of it to which she snapped a chain onto it. "Now I think you'll keep
still."
she said without malice. She stood up and gave the chain a sharp tug. I
grimaced as my erect penis came into contact with the unyielding spikes, a
tear
falling from my eye. One produced by pain and a little humiliation.

She fastened the chain to the leg of a nearby desk. She then picked up an open
holdall and placed it on the desk in front of me and pulled out a shiny black
object shaped like a lifeless desiccated head with laces attached at the back
hanging down like rat's tails, tubes sprouting from the nose and a bag 
attached to them.
She stood behind me, so I started to turn my head round to see what she was
doing. She
spoke quietly and menacingly, "Keep still otherwise things may get painful." I
did as I
was told and turned my head back to stare at the screen in front of me, 
wondering exactly
what she meant by more painful and where ? With one hand she ripped the tape
from my mouth
which caused me to gasp with pain and with the other she put the black head
over my own head
plunging me in darkness and manoeuvred it surely and quickly so that the 
mask's eye, nose
and mouth holes matched up with my own. Then she pulled the zip down, pulled
the  laces
tightly across the back of my head and finished them off in a bow. Lastly she
pulled the
straps tightly around my neck and fastened the two buckles.  

I inhaled the over powering odour of the rubber, which now covered my head,
intoxicated with the smell. She pushed a rubber gag into my open mouth. She
fastened this
to the helmet with two buckles on the side which she did up tightly, pulling
the gag deeper
into my mouth. My breathing slowed down as I took deeper breaths through my
nose, the air
tainted by the rubber around me. She peered in at me and touched the end of my
latex clad
nose with her sharp nose. She picked up the bulb, which sprouted from my 
gagged mouth and
squeezed it slowly and powerfully in front of my eyes. The small rubber gag
inside my mouth
began to inflate, filling my mouth with the taste of rubber, pushing my tongue
to the back
of my mouth, pushing out my cheeks, growing to what felt like gigantic 
proportions. she
stopped when she saw my head moving as if I was about to gag. My breathing was
difficult
unless I concentrated fully on it. Tubes went from my nostrils up over my head
and round
my ears to the front where they entered a small rubber bag, which increased in
and decreased
in size as I breathed, wheezing as air was sucked into it. I could barely hear
it as the helmet
had built in earplugs. She knelt down by my feet and removed my shoes, socks,
trousers and underwear,
throwing them into a corner of the office. She then secured my ankles to the
bottom of the chair with
two more pairs of handcuffs. Now she removed one handcuff from my wrist and
undid my shirt, pulling
my arm through the sleeve. Then she placed my wrist into a three-inch wide
stout leather cuff which
she secured to the chair and then released my other wrist, finally discarding
the shirt onto the
pile where my clothes heaped and then securing my wrist via another leather
cuff to the arm of
the chair. 

She stood up and admired her work with pride. I squirmed about on my chair,
testing the bonds and realising that they were secure. She walked back a few
paces, turned, smiled and looked at me. She took her gloves off and let them
fall to the floor. I saw that her hands were black. She pulled the polo necked
jumper up and over her head, revealing a black, rubber clad torso and rubber
corset gleaming below her sheathed breasts. She took her shoes off and then
removed her skirt.  All of her body was black and shining apart from her head.
She moved over to the holdall and removed another rubber helmet which she put
over her own head. I could see her eyes, the red of her pouting lips and the
red hair but no other colour apart from the black of her latex outer covering.
She pulled out a pair of calf length black patent leather boots with six inch
stiletto heels. She pulled both pairs on over her rubber feet, ankles and
calves. She walked back towards me, her boots unlaced and her helmet untied.
As
I stared at this powerful looking rubber clad woman getting larger in my
vision I noticed that the corset was loose around her chest.

She pulled out another garment from her trick bag and unfolded it in front of
me. She released the handcuffs from my ankles and proceeded to pull the 
trousers
of a rubber suit onto my feet, over my ankles, up my calves and then up my
thighs. She pulled the trousers up over my bottom and an anal rubber probe,
coated
in KY jelly slipped up my anus while my encased genitals were completely 
covered by
their own moulded sheathed pouch. She slipped my feet into calf length ballet
boots,
whose nine-inch heels and her tight lacing ensured that my toes pointed 
painfully to
the floor. She placed three inch leather cuffs on my ankles and removed the
ones around
my wrists. She pulled the rest of the suit over my body and then placed a 
corset around
my chest which she laced up tightly followed by a neck corset which ensured
that my head
couldn't move at all. I was covered in rubber from head to foot, my mouth 
filled with
rubber and my anus probed by a rubber dildo.

She grabbed my wrists and placed a stout leather cuff around each one. From a
'D' ring on my neck corset, there were four on it, she attached a chain to
each
cuff and then padlocked the cuffs together. With my arms held supplicatingly
in
front of me she sat on the desk and told me to lace her up. I laced up her
boots, rubber helmet and rubber corset tightly as she asked. She visibly and
verbally sighed with satisfaction as first her boots were laced, her corset
tighened and then the helmet laced up. She released my ankles and held my 
hands
bidding me to stand up and totter after her on my heels and toes. She stood in
the
middle of the office and released the chains. She moved the chair away from
the
screen and walked back to stand in front of it. From her Pandora's box of a
bag
she produced what looked like a shooting brake, except that the base was flat
and
the top was almost flat except for a solid circular rubber protrusion. She
placed
it behind me and pressed my shoulders down until my bottom was in contact with
the
seat and the rubber bullet shaped protrusion fitted into the rubber sheath of
my
latex suit. She produced two telescopic metal rods which she fastened to each
wrist
and then to the centre pole of the chair, holding my arms out in front of me,
my palms
flat. Lastly she put two ankle cuffs on and more telescopic metal rods. One on
each
ankle cuff and then attached to the chair I perched on.

I couldn't move. My arms were held out in front of me, my head was firmly in
one place
unable to turn or nod and my legs were splayed apart unable to be drawn 
together. She
grabbed my right hand and swivelled me around the rubber teat which was the
central point,
grinding the sheath round in my anus. She turned me back to face the screen
and then stood
in front of me, hands on hips. She moved towards me, and secured a blindfold
to the helmet,
which she buckled up at the side of my head, turned round and then sat down on
top of me,
with her back to me. She squeezed my rubber sheathed penis between her rubber
gloved fingers,
feeling it grow and rise. She raised her plump bottom and then slid my penis
into her rubber-lined
vagina. She then put her whole weight onto my thighs, chest, abdomen and 
penis. Her head moved back
and I thought I smelt her hair as some strands rested against my rubber 
covered face or perhaps
it was because her hair hung down over the valve of the rebreather bag which
now rested her back
against reducing the supply of air to me. She started typing away at the 
keyboard.

I was a human typist's chair! Every so often she would squirm in the "chair"
and she
would groan a little.  She swivelled the "chair" to reach things that lay on
her desk,
grinding the anal probe further into me, my penis held tightly, squeezed by
her rubber-lined
vagina.  She would bounce on the "chair", transmitting her weight through my
legs to my
toes which were the only part of my body in contact with the floor.  She 
started to
rock in the "chair", her fingers rubbing  her rubber clothed clitoris 
vigorously, her
breathing hoarse and rapid. She grabbed my arms and threw herself backwards
and forwards
against me. My arms, legs and back ached and my penis throbbed.  She gripped
my hands and
squeezed my fingers as she threw her head back and gasped loudly. I couldn't
hold on
any longer either and ejaculated into the rubber sheath, separated from her
vagina
by two layers of latex. 

She relaxed, and sighed, "That's me finished for today." 

Part 2

"Well, I think it's time to go home." she said as she got up from her 'chair'.
"I can't let you go out dressed like that though. What will people say about
you?" she
said in a sarcastic tone which I barely heard as my head was currently swathed
in latex.
She was right though. "I'd better get you ready then", she said, her voice
trailing off
somewhere in the distance. So she released me from the superstructure of the
'chair'. The
arms were detached from the central point and the wrist cuffs removed. Then
came the rods on
my ankles and the ankle cuffs. These were folded away judging by the metallic
sounds.  She
kicked my butt with her pointy boots motioning me to rise. I attempted to do
so, unaware of
my orientation within the room and my legs weak from having to support her
weight. I
straightened up aware of the corset around my middle and also the one around
my neck.
I tried to take in more oxygen but this was problematical as you can only 
force so much
air in your nostrils from the rebreather. 

My anus ached from the attention of the anal sheath. She prodded my backside
with the
six-inch heel of her boot, so I stumbled forward until my knees collided with
the soft
ledge of a sofa. My hands reached out in front of me in an effort to stop my
fall. They
hit a wall. I began to fall forward but a strategically aimed boot turned me
round in mid-air
and I fell with a thud, hard onto the seat on my ass. "Remove your boots", she
ordered. I did as
I was bid, albeit slowly owing to my inability to bend my torso. They came
off, my toes and calves
aching. I tried a sigh of relief but to no avail. "Stand up," she said. I did
as she asked. "Remove
the neck corset and stand still when you've finished," she said softly in my
left ear. I managed
to undue the front busks and she took the corset from my left hand. She then
removed the pump from
 my mouth gag, which fitted like the valve on a football. "Turn around, you're
not quite ready to go
 out yet," she said. 

I stood for a second and then she pulled another mask over my head. What it
looked like
I didn't have a clue but it squashed the tubes from my nose against the helmet
I wore
making breathing difficult once again. "Arms straight out behind your back,"
she said
and proceeded to pull an arm binder up over my wrists, elbows and upper arms,
fastening
and pulling tightly across my shoulders some straps. She then tightened some
more straps
across my biceps, elbow, forearms and wrists, squeezing my arms together into
a single
limb. I felt a little silly with my arms or was it arm? Stuck out behind me,
it was beginning
to ache a little. "Only a couple more things and I think you'll be ready to go
out," she said
reassuringly. What did she mean by that I wondered? She stepped in front of me
and placed a
neoprene lined stainless belt around my waist. I could feel something bumping
against my
behind but not for long as reached through my legs and pulled something 
in-between them
and round to front which shoved some sort of thin anal plug up into the cavity
of the anal
sheath and squashed my penis and balls into a neoprene lined stainless steel
pouch. As
soon as that had been secured and locked in the front, she reached under me
and pulled
something else between my legs, which she pulled tightly having the effect of
separating
the checks of my behind, pressing the chastity belt pouch, that's what I 
called it, tighter
against my genitals, and pulling my arms down to lay flat against my back.
This was evidently
fastened in the front, as I was unable to move my arms at all. 

She then proceeded to dress me, trousers, socks, shoes, shirt, jacket and coat
with
the arms stuffed into the pockets. Then I was told to stand still. She must
have been
up to something because I heard the sound of rustling and movement and then
everything
went quiet. Was she leaving me here to be found by my work colleagues? I 
bloody well hope
not. Then, suddenly, a large weight was slung over my shoulders; it must have
been the holdall.
So I was going to carry it for her was I? She grabbed me around the waist and
proceeded to
guide me out of the building. Great, I can't see where I'm going, I can't use
my arms, I'm
finding it hard to breathe what with the corset and the rebreather being 
hidden under my
clothes and there's a pain in my ass making it difficult to walk. 

We must have walked for about twenty minutes or so, well it seemed like that
long to me. Besides
she couldn't live that far away from work. Eventually though she stopped me
and removed her
arm from my waist. I knew we had walked up a gravel path and which was 
somewhere in a quiet
residential neighbourhood because the sound of traffic which had been constant
before owing
to the fact that I knew we had to have walked down the main road outside our
office building.
Someone grabbed me by the strap of the bag and pulled me up a couple of steps
as I stumbled to
walk in front of me. I knew we were in a hall way as I could hear the click of
a pair of court
shoes, my own shoes as I walked, and another pair of high heels which was 
directly in front of
me and led me through a door and down some wooden stairs into what I presumed
was the cellar
because it felt a little bit colder than the hallway. The bag was hoisted over
my head quite
easily and my clothes and shoes were stripped off me. I was told to stand 
still. 

Someone moved near me and undid the arm binder from the chastity belt and 
pulled my aching
arms up above my and then fastened the binder to a hook above me. I was 
dangling on my tiptoes,
just. "Sara, get him undressed," said Christine. So, she had someone else 
here, called Sara.
"Yes Mistress. Right away." Sara replied. Something flew the air and landed
with a tinkle in
someone's hand. "You may do with him what you wish but I want him ready in an
hour." Christine,
or should that be Mistress, said. I heard her shoes and thus her, leave. Now
there was a silence
of sorts, my breathing through the rebreather, laboured, slow and careful, and
nothing else.
The mask was pulled from my head. I tried to kick my legs about but both were
grabbed by the
ankle and while I continued to struggle cuffs were placed on them then 
fastened together and
lastly a chain attached to them and my legs pulled up so I was now horizontal.
My arms were
lowered and the arm binder removed so I tried to put up a struggle but they
were just too tired
and the muscles ached so they lay on the cold stone floor. Sara then undid the
zip of the latex
suit I wore and removed me from the top half. Then I was recuffed with fur
lined wrist restraints
and hoisted up back to being horizontal. Now she removed the chastity belt.
What a relief! I
can tell you. Then after removing the leg restraints she pulled the lower half
of the suit off
and put on some neoprene lined steel bracelets and did the same on my ankles.
I had nothing on
but the mask but I felt embarrassed with the rest of my nakedness. "You've got
a fit, trim body.
I can see why she choose you," Sara said to me. "I want to see your face 
though," she said. She
carefully removed the blindfold.    

When it came off the light in the cellar was such that I blinked but Sara 
quickly put
her hands over my eyes to shield them. I noticed that they were covered in
clear latex. She
removed her hand and I could see at last. She was dressed as a maid. So the
woman had a servant.
It was a latex maid! Black short skirt, a short sleeved low cut top revealing
an ample bosom.
She had on transparent latex everywhere else I could see even on her face. As
she removed the
helmet I could she had painted finger nails under the latex gloves, the 
contents of which were
warm on my face as they brushed it while undoing the helmet. "Hmm. Very nice
face," she said.
"Thanks." I said. "I shouldn't really be talking to you but who cares. I'm
Sara, housemaid and
dresser," she said and curtsied. "I'm Simon," I replied pleasantly. I could
see I was in a
small room with one door in it and various hooks and chains all over the 
place. She stepped
away, her painted toe nails twinkling under the light, they matched her finger
nails, her
six inch high clear plastic mules scraping and taping on the stone floor as
she turned giving
me a view of her white frilled latex knickers and rustling white petticoat. I
heard the turn
of a tap and then whoosh! Warm water was directed at me from a hose, at quite
a high pressure
such that I shook and spluttered as the water went all over my once sweaty
body.

She turned it off and manoeuvred one of the benches underneath me and then
lowered me on it.
I relaxed. My muscles weren't screaming with pain and lactic acid build up.
She came over and
stood astride of me, facing away and pulled up her skirt and then slowly 
lowered her ample
transparent clad bottom until it was inches from my face. Then she opened her
knickers like a
self sealing freezer bag and parked her anus above my nose and vagina above my
mouth. I inhaled
her musky odour; it was a heady smell. I shivered but that could have been
because I was wet and
cooling down. I stuck my tongue out and tasted her slightly lubricated vagina.
I started flicking
it in and out of her vagina, then side to side within her and then against her
lips. She smacked
my penis and I touched her clitoris with the tip of my tongue. She sighed 
appreciatively. My tongue
was now darting all around her vagina, lips and clitoris. She was starting to
get worked up now,
squirming on my face. She started to make more noise and breathe more 
erratically. She stroked my
penis with her smooth latex covered hands and then caressed and cupped my 
balls. I was moving my
tongue, in and out, left to right, round and round, in her sopping wet vagina,
on her engorged lips
and now prominent round, proud clitoris. I wanted her to put my penis in her
luscious mouth but
she just kept stroking it, rubbing it, squeezing it pulling it, pulling the
foreskin down,
running her fingertips over the tip of the head. My tongue ached as it 
continued and then
she gasped, loudly and screamed loudly as she came, the sound reverberating
around the stone
walls of the room.  

I was starting to feel cold now. She was still sitting on my face, the 
lubrication from her
vagina trickling down into my mouth. Then I heard the sound of high heels and
the rustle
of latex entering the room. "Ah, Sara. Busy were we? I heard you. Enjoying
something?" she
enquired mildly. "Sorry I was so loud Mistress," she replied apologetically.
"Never mind."
she added. Sara rose and stepped away from my prone body. I saw the "Mistress"
or Christine,
as I knew her. She was wearing a long, black, rubber, shiny, flared dress that
reached down to
her ankles. It was very tight around the waist due to a six-inch black rubber
corset around
her waist. The dress had long sleeves and fitted tightly around the bodice to
her chin. Amid
all that highly reflective latex was a copper coloured head of curls, blue
eyes, red lipstick
coated lips and milky white skin looking tenderly at me. "What's going to 
happen next? Are you
going to let me go? I won't say anything about any of this." I said in a 
conciliatory tone of
voice. She just looked, they both did. "People will miss me. Christine..." I
said before being
cut off. "I won't let you call me that. No one will miss you at all." she said
in an even tone.
"Sara, the feeding gag." she said looking in Sara's direction. "I have 
something that needs doing,"
she said mysteriously. 

"You can't keep me here against my will. That's kidnapping. Come on. Let me
go. I'll ugmph oi mphphu,"
my sentence was cut short by forceful insertion into my open mouth of a gag. A
hard rubber tube which was
two inched in diameter and about two inches long which forced a startled gag
reflex from my throat. The
straps were done up very tightly. Sticking out of my covered mouth was a stiff
tube about twelve inches
long with a funnel on the end. I moved my head from side to side. "Neck 
brace," came a barked order. The
thick rubber neck brace was brought into play which fitted tightly around my
neck and under my chin,
forcing my head back and my mouth to clamp tightly around the tube in my 
mouth. I couldn't close my mouth.
My neck and head were not able to move. My legs were raised upwards so that I
hung down like a bat from a
rafter. My arms were brought up too but moved towards my legs, doubling me up
to form a human 'C' shape.
I stopped squirming and started to shiver. Sara stood over me, dominating my
eyeline. Christine walked
behind me and grabbed my penis with her latex sheathed hand, encircling the
shaft with all her smooth,
warm fingers. She smacked my bottom hard, the checks of my ass quivering and
tingling, forcing me to
jerk forward and my penis to be moved in her grip. The head was in the funnel!
This was going to be very
embarrassing.  

She hit me again with the palm of her hand. My bottom began to sting. She hit
me again; my penis now hard
in her black latex caressed fingers, the shape of her fingernails outlined by
the fit of the glove. She
began hitting me rhythmically. "The faster you come, the less it will hurt,"
she said with a smile.
I wasn't quite so cold now, as my bottom was becoming very warm with all the
attention as was my penis.
This was humiliating. Two women fully clothed me naked. One smacking me on the
bottom and
the other watching. She continued smacking for another minute and then the
muscles in
my legs tensed and my penis throbbed as semen squirted down the funnel, 
through the
tube and into my gaping mouth. It went straight down my throat. "Wash and 
clothe him
and then bring him upstairs," she ordered. 

I was unshackled and the gag removed. She moved me into a small three-sided
cubicle and
jets of hot water covered me all over from all sides. From the safety of the
dry, Sara
scrubbed and cleaned me via some long poles with sponges on and a gel 
dispenser. I
motioned me forward and I was dried by means of a large hot air drier. I felt
as though
I had been through a carwash, except that there was no soundtrack of Rose 
Royce playing.
Sara handed me some white latex briefs with a sheath that I put on. Then she
buckled me
into a studded leather neck collar, thick leather wrist restraints which she
clipped
together so my hands were behind my back and thick leather ankle restraints
which she also
clipped together. I could walk but barely, a kind of slow shuffle. Lastly, in
my mouth she
secured a massive, two and a half-inch hard red rubber ball gag that hurt my
jaws once in
place. I was then led slowly out of the cellar complex and up the wooden 
stairs. 


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