A Little Imagery

I was digging through an old hard drive and found this picture from a play session I had several years ago with a former Mistress.  She dressed me up, handcuffed my hands behind my back, put me in leg irons, gagged me and blindfolded me, secured a leash to my collar and the other end around a pole and turned out the lights (I'm not sure why she needed to do that since I was blindfolded).  She scattered the keys to the locks around the room then proceeded to video tape me using the video camera's night vision while I crawled around on my knees trying to find the keys and unlock myself.  This picture is from a screen capture she sent me from the video tape... I really hope that tape has since been destroyed...

Since the leash was only 6' long I was able to find the keys within about 15 minutes although she didn't make it easy by repeatedly pushing me over and nudging and jabbing me with her boots. 

She really made things tough with how she dressed me that evening.  That day she brought me my first (and only) bra.  It was a thrift store purchase, about 8" too small for my chest to fit comfortably and had a really stiff under-wire and sequins on the front that had very scratchy backings inside the bra cup (which is why she chose the bra).  The under-wire dug into my skin and the bra pinched and rubbed very uncomfortably under the couple-of-sizes-too-small skin-tight sweater she ordered me to wear.  It seemed to get tighter and more uncomfortable with every passing minute. 

Once I found the keys to the handcuffs the real difficulty began.  I really hated those handcuffs.  They were heavy-duty double-locking police handcuffs that were really uncomfortable and made my wrists ache after a few minutes of having them on.  She cuffed me palms facing out but thankfully left the key-holes facing my hands.  Also, she had locked them on over a pair of thick chunky knit mittens with huge fur cuffs.  The handcuffs made the mittens impossible to remove (they were locked on between the fur cuffs and hand) and the small handcuff key kept getting caught in the yarn of the mittens.  I would have it in my hand and it would stick in the yarn sideways and I'd have to fidget until the key would fall out only to have to pick it up again.  She had taken the key off the key chain so that every time it would fall it would land flat on the ground and I'd have to struggle to pick it up again. 

Each time I would finally get a good grip on the key and try to unlock the handcuffs, I would contort into a position and the fur cuffs would block the keyhole or the key would get tangled in the fur and bury itself into the yarn of the mittens again, forcing me to repeat the process of freeing the key, dropping it, and picking it back up.  After about 10 minutes of this she got a bit bored and set the camera down on the table with it aimed at me and she sat down and started to masturbate.  When my whimpering started to fade she yelled out that for every minute it took me to free myself I would be very sorry.  She kept asking me questions about how I should be punished while she masturbated, demanding answers and then laughing at my grunts coming from behind the gag.  Every few minutes she would call out the time, taunting me with how much I would hate the punishment and that it would keep getting worse, taking great pleasure in my escalating whimpers of panic and desperation. 

Finally, after 52 minutes I was able to get the key into the keyhole and crank it all the way to one side to release the double lock, and then all the way back the other direction to release the lock.  With my hands freed I collapsed on the floor, every muscle in my body aching and sore.  She got up and removed my gag and blindfold and had me remove my leg irons.  After a minute or two of rest she ordered me to kneel in front of her and worship her feet while she praised me for my effort and scolded me for taking so long, but she made it very clear how much she loved that I would suffer for her (as I have mentioned before, I am not a masochist).   

After that she handcuffed me again (this time with my palms facing inward, which is a LOT more comfortable) and took me over her knee.  She put on a pair of leather gloves, flipped the back of my skirt up onto my back and spanked me until I cried as punishment for taking so long.  When she finished she rubbed my red behind and chided me saying I only had 51 more of those spankings left.  She had me kneel next to her while she petted my head for a minute or two before ordering me back kneeling in front of her, having me kiss her boots for several minutes while she talked about her plans for the next few days and when we would be together again.

She had me stop and told me she had to get ready to leave.  This was one of the only times she ever had some regret about how rough she was with me.  As she had me change back into my normal clothes she saw the bruises on my wrists and ankles caused by the metal cuffs and she must have felt a bit guilty since she told me not to worry about the 51 spankings she had said were to come.  She whispered to me me that since I took so long I wouldn't be allowed to orgasm until our next meeting and then she hugged me and kissed me before going on her way.

That was a rather intense evening and it's still a fairly vivid memory.

I believe the above picture was from a point where she pressed her boot down on the back of my neck and pressed my chin to the floor while zooming in on my hands. 

On a side note, she did this again with me several times (it must have given her a lot of pleasure), with the worst of it happening when she put the handcuffs on palms facing out and had the keyhole facing the elbow and used an even shorter leash.  It took over 90 minutes that time.