Jessica’s Leather Adventure

© 2015 Julanni O

- a fictional fantasy

This fantasy came about as a product of an exchange between myself and my IF friend Jessica.  Everyone is invited to enjoy it, but it was specifically written for her.  And to that end, Jessica, I want you to masturbate as you read this.  I will not accept any fewer than three orgasms before you reach the end.  Report to me afterward how many climaxes you reach.  There might be a reward involved.

For every guest reading this, here is a little background on how this story had spawned.  Jessica and I had been commenting back and forth beneath a photo of a naked woman bound in a black leather armbinder, a leather body harness with a tight crotch strap, and a leather hood with gag and blindfold.  The woman stands in front of a grey brick wall, presumably in a basement.

I had left a comment about how the tight crotch strap could be both a good thing and a bad thing at the same time.  She wrote back, “Being totally encased and helpless in the leather and completely rung out by your devilish ministrations sounds delicious.”  So firstly, rung out by my devilish ministrations?  Delicious?  To that I must respond, “Thank you very much.”  And beyond that, the following story is my response to her.

-

Encased?  Sure, we can do that.  We'll start with the harness like you see here and a nice, snug leather armbinder.  Actually, first we'll start by taping up your fingers so you can't use them even before your hands are buried in the bottom of the armbinder.  Using black stretchy electrical tape, I bind each hand flat like a paddle with the fingers together and the thumb pressed against the side of the hand.  This way, you'll feel especially helpless even before we're half way done with your bindings.

One wrapping of tape holds your wrists together behind you, and another holds your hands one over the other, the palm of one facing the back of the other, palms toward your ass.  No, it's not much tape binding them together; but it doesn't need to be, because now I slip the armbinder up your arms, ensuring your taped up hands fit deep into the mitt end of the binder.  The straps go up over your shoulders, cross your upper chest just below your throat and wrap back beneath your arms to buckle snug to the back side of the binder.  This binder has laces, and I start pulling them tight, taking my time to work them like a corset, forcing your arms closer and closer, determined to make your elbows meet.  By the way, how close can you get them?  I'll bet that because you've been doing this since childhood they touch easily, so I pull on the laces until your elbows press firmly together.  Tying off the laces, I tuck the remaining lengths into the top of the armbinder, just to get them out of the way.

Next comes the harness and as I position it on your lovely body, I wrap it around your bound arms buckling them snug against your back.  Before I do up the crotch strap, I play with you, my fingers teasing your clit and labia.  I tell you to spread your legs and I kneel and use my mouth to ensure your arousal grows quickly.  I like your taste and I take a little longer than necessary to work you up, lapping up some of the juices your body produces, but making sure to leave enough to lubricate you well.

Then I show you three steel balls, each about an inch and a half wide.  I hold one up near your face and give it a quick swirl then hold it still.  You can hear a smaller ball rolling around inside it.  “That ball in there is reasonably heavy,” I tell you.  “And it almost never sits still, always rolling around at least a little bit.  And you can trust me on this; you will definitely feel it moving inside you.  And, yes, all three of these are the same in that respect.”

I crouch down and press the first ball against your labia.  The juices I made you produce allow it to slip easily between your lips and force its way inside as my thumb pushes it gently upward.  I answer your quick intake of breath with, “Yes, it feels a bit cold, but that’s okay, they’ll warm up rather nicely in no time.”

The girth of the first ball is enough that you can’t possibly ignore it as it spreads your vagina wide while moving up into you.  The next ball pushes the first one deeper, making you feel undoubtedly invaded, and you can also feel the inner movement translate through the steel shell as the shifting weight within the spheres makes them move slightly back and forth.  I show you the third ball before inserting it, and you notice it's actually bigger than the other pair.  It's about two inches wide and I tell you it’s heavier.  You're not sure that you want this one added in with the other two, but I don't give you a choice.  It stretches you quite wide as it presses its way inside, pushing the other balls deep into your channel.  I smile to see you react favorably to the invasion of the steel toys.

My thumb, slick with your moisture, rubs vigorously against your clit for almost a full minute to make your hips start to churn in a seductive dance of need.  I make sure there’s plenty of your natural lubricant slathering your clit, and then I pull the crotch strap into place.  This harness is a little different from the one in the picture.  The crotch strap loops through a ring at the end of your armbinder, down at your encased fingertips, then pulls back up your abdomen to buckle firmly into place.  You feel the leather encasing your hands pulling on them to curve your palms into you and press tightly against you, your fingertips resting against your anus and unable to pull away.  I make sure it pulls tightly enough that the strap wedges itself deep between your labia, forcing the steel balls even deeper.

I look at you standing there, naked except for the black leather straps hugging your lovely form and the binder trapping your arms helplessly behind you.  I can’t help myself.  My hands roam your lovely body, feeling your sensitive skin which is growing dank with nervous perspiration.  I lean in and brush my cheek past yours, my lips latching onto the side of your neck beneath your ear.  My teeth tease you there, nibbling up your neck to your hairline behind the ear.  “Don’t speak,” I whisper, then lick the back of your ear and pull forward a bit to suck on your ear lobe.

My cheek brushes against yours again as I pull away and as my lips brush yours, your tongue reaches out for me, but I back away and grin mischievously at you.  “Are you trying to tell me you want my tongue in your mouth?”

Obediently not speaking, you nod, your breath heavy with desire.

My arms are wrapped around you, feeling the leather and laces of the snug armbinder.  I move my hands up to feel the flesh of your upper shoulders above the hem of the leather and I hug you, pulling you close against me, and I can feel the movement of your hips still churning, wanting.  My lips come near to yours and I see your lips part, anticipating my entry.  Happy that you want my tongue, I whisper, “Beg me to gag you.”

Overcome with the desire I deliberately built up in you, you whisper back, “Please gag me, Julanni.  Gag me with your tongue.  Press your mouth hard against mine and fill it with your tongue so I can’t speak.”

I am also overcome and I fulfill your request, my mouth forcefully taking possession of yours.  My lips press hard upon yours and my tongue reaches deep to explore and caress the back of your mouth, feeling your restless tongue responding and wrestling with mine, your lips moving against mine, your breath puffing from your nostrils against my cheek.  Your hips churn harder, your need becoming urgent.  Yes, this is what I want.  My right hand cups the back of your head, pressing your mouth more firmly against mine.  My left hand pulls you tightly against me, then wanders down along the side of the leather encasing your arms, my fingertips trailing along the skin of your back, down to your buttocks.  My hand takes possession of your right cheek, grasping the pliable flesh, then my fingertips work between the leather and your skin, worming in to find your spine, then down until my fingertips discover your anus hidden behind your leather trapped fingers.  My fingertip presses hard against the sphincter and I feel the churning of your hips intensify, rocking like mad.  I reason you may be on the edge of orgasm, or perhaps just tripped over that edge.  It’s a very nice start to our evening and I begin to back off slowly.

“Beg me again to gag you.”

“Please gag me.”

“You really want me to gag you?”

“Oh, yes, please!”  You sincerity is palpable.  And I love how eager you are to fall more deeply under the control of the bindings I will continue to apply.

I can’t help but grin wickedly.  “You want your gag to be deep?”

I can see your breath quicken and you answer, “Please gag me deep.  As deep as you want.”

“This is why I love you, Jessica.  You have no idea how horny you’re making me right now.”  It’s a tough fight for me to control myself.  I press my mouth to yours again, my tongue thrusting deep, tickling the roof of your mouth almost back to the uvula.  Then I pull away a few inches, my eyes locked upon yours.  “That deep?” I ask.

The idea of something reaching into the back of your mouth, almost to the uvula, and you not being able to remove it, that’s a worrisome thought.  But it’s also adventurous.  And besides, you don’t want to disappoint me, so you summon your courage and answer, “Yes, please.”

I can’t suppress the grin.  I suddenly bend down, my mouth attacking your left nipple, my teeth gently chewing the teat for a moment as my lips suck and my tongue flicks against it.  I hear from the back of your throat the guttural response to the unexpected stimulation, and I’m pleased.  I allow myself to spread my legs and straddle your thigh, rubbing against you for my own stimulation.  I hump your leg for a few moments, letting you watch me become more aroused, knowing that the sight of me like this will only enhance your own arousal.  But as much as you’re turned on watching me do this, I’m turned on more from watching you respond to the restraints.

I know the tight straps across your chest are having an arousing effect upon you.  And you’re feeling the movement of the weighted steel balls inside you.  I’m familiar with what they feel like, as well as the feel of the leather strap crushing tightly against your clitoris and wedging itself deep between your labia.  I know that you can tug on your hands and the motion will translate to that strap, and to some extent, to the steel balls as well.  I love the desperate dance you’re doing, rocking your hips, hoping for enough stimulation to bring yourself off, and I love knowing that the strap is adjusted tightly enough that it stays fixed in place, barely moving at all, thus thwarting your efforts.

But you asked me to gag you, and I intend to do so.  I reach down and press a fingernail to the soft flesh of your Venus mound right next to the edge of the tight leather strap, and I slowly scratch down along the sensitive skin, following the strap for a couple inches.  I smile at your sharp intake of breath, then I walk away.

Stepping over to the headgear cabinet, I open it and select the gag I had in mind.  I haven’t used this one on you before and I’m anxious to see how you handle it.  It’s a form-fitting black leather hood that opens up from the back.  It has a detachable blindfold panel, and the gag plug is interchangeable.  I pull the back open wide and examine the inside.  Good, it already has the plug I want for you; a challenging three inch deep plug made of hard black rubber and shaped like a thick, knobby penis.  I’ve used this plug to masturbate many times and then gagged myself, tasting my own juices along with the distinctive rubber flavor.  I’m not sure how it will fit you, but for me, it presses definitively against my uvula, forcing me to concentrate on controlling my natural gag reflex.  It will be interesting to see how you handle it.

I love how your eyes widen with surprise and concern as you see me bring it over to you.  Just the fact that it’s a sturdy black leather hood is daunting to some girls, but then I open the back to let you see the plug inside.  Yes, your eyes widen more, with real worry now, and then they look to mine with silent pleading for mercy.  The evil grin in my eyes tells you that you will receive no reprieve tonight.

I smile sweetly to you and ask, “What was it that you were asking for?  I want to hear you ask again.”

I can imagine the mixed feelings churning in your gut as part of you wants to quit this game and escape what is coming, while another part of you yearns for me to push you as far as I can.  Your voice almost fails you, but you clear your throat and try again.  “Please, Julanni, gag me deeply.”

“You mean it?” I ask.

“Yes, I mean it.”  There is a determination in your voice, punctuated with a heady, breathy arousal and a nervous excitement.  Your reactions are really turning me on and I can’t help but grin with a wicked joy, anticipating how mischievously I will control everything about you tonight.

I pull at the lacings in the back so they’re really loose and I let the hood fall open so it’s almost inside out with the dildo looking plug standing up out of the mass of leather.  I let you watch me put the head of the phallus to my lips and push it slowly into my mouth, each fraction of an inch slowly disappearing into me.  I feel it touch my uvula just as the inside leather of the hood touches my lips.  I pull it out again, but not all the way, and then fellate it for a minute, just for show.  Finally, I can’t suppress another playful grin.

Holding the head of the gag plug in my mouth, my teeth gently gripping it, I then step around behind you and wrap my arms around you, my fingers playing with the skin on your abdomen and tracing along the edges of the leather strapping.  I take hold of your breasts, kneading them affectionately and occasionally tweaking one nipple or the other.  I pay close attention to your reactions, feeling the way you squirm against me and listening to your breathing and your soft moans and grunts as you respond to the way I play with you.  As my left hand continues, my right hand reaches down to your groin, feeling the strap of the harness tightly bisecting your lowermost abdomen, and I softly stroke and tease that sensitive flesh on either side of the leather.  Reaching a little lower, I find your labia protruding from the edges of the strap and I play with you there as well.  I take my time, one hand on your breasts and the other at your vulva, charging up your libido for a long session of helpless desire and denial.  Will I let you cum once I’ve bound you as I want?  Will I force you to?  You don’t know yet; you can only hope I do.

Finally, I reach up with my right hand and take hold of the outside of the hood where the base of the gag is attached, and I take it from my mouth.  I reach around in front of your face and let you look at it again, up close and personal this time.  My saliva glistens on the thick rubber penis as I aim the head toward your lips.  I watch you open your mouth to receive it, tentatively for just a brief moment, as if you’re trying to decide if this is a blessing or a curse, but with a clear desire to take on the challenge and revel in the feelings of helplessness you expect it will bring you.

“Shouldn’t you thank me before your speech is taken away?”

Your excitement is so palpable you can hardly get the words out, “Thank you, Julanni.”

“You’re welcome, Jessica,” I kindly respond, and my hand moves the ominous gag plug slowly into your waiting mouth.  “The pleasure is all mine,” I jest once the plug is deep enough to prevent you from  clearly saying anything else.  I playfully twist the knobby rubber shaft against your tongue and the roof of your mouth, pull it out a little and press it in again.  In and out, side to side, twisting and rocking, I use the hard rubber dick to explore every detail of your oral cavity until I finally push it far enough that it reaches your uvula.

As I expected, you gag on it a bit and cough as I pull it partly out but keep the head in your mouth.  “You can do better than that; I know you can.”  With my words of encouragement as if to a child, I gently push it in again, reaching that same depth.  You control yourself better this time, but I can still see some struggle.  And so begins the way I prepare you to take it for an extended period.  I force you to fellate this obsidian cock, to take it deep, and then deeper, pumping it in and out of you for better than fifteen minutes until you have acclimated yourself to the feel of its presence beyond your palate.

At last I ask you, “Are you ready to wear it?”  I watch how you nod your partly reluctant agreement with a mouth still occupied and unable to speak.  “Good.  I’ve robbed you of your words, and now I’m about to rob you of your sight as well.”  I begin to fold the loose leather up over your face and as it plunges you into darkness, I feel your body stiffen for a moment and give up a slight shudder as if you just felt a shiver go up your spine.  “Yes, Jessica,” I whisper sensuously into your ear, “this is the real deal.”

I pull the leather around to the back of your head, tucking your hair inside as it and smoothing down the center panel of leather that dangles from the top of the hood down the back of your head to your neck.  That panel acts like the tongue in a shoe, covering the back of your head while the laces tighten over it and pull the sides of the hood firmly against you.  I take my time working the laces, making sure the hood is snug and the gag is well seated in your mouth.  From my own experience in this hood, I know you can feel the leather pulling snug in increments as the laces are methodically tightened.  Trapped within this confining garment, all you can smell is the leather, while your tongue tastes only the rubber phallus.

Gradually, the leather tightens to the point it nearly becomes a second skin, the blindfold pressing lightly against your closed eyelids and the gag resting deep within your mouth, forcing upon you its unyielding embrace of your uvula.  I watch the movement at the top of your throat just beneath your jaw, knowing that you’re repeatedly trying to swallow, as if you could clear the invading object.  I know that feeling well, and I know that, despite your difficulty in controlling your reflexes, you’ll soon adjust to dealing with this most intimate challenge, confronting it with determination, resisting your natural reactions on a moment by moment basis.

With the laces tied off nice and tight, I cover them by wrapping the bottom of the tongue up over them, making sure the center belt loop protrudes through the slot for it.  Then I work the built in collar, threading it through the belt loop at the back of the left side, then through the tongue belt loop (which will hold it closed around the tied laces), and then through the loop attached at the bottom of the right side, and finally through the buckle beneath and just behind your right ear.  I pull the strap snug, but not too tightly as my intent is not to choke you.  With the buckle fastened I whisper into your leather covered ear, “One small padlock and you are entirely mine for the night.”

All night?  With this invading dildo constantly threatening to choke you?  Your slight squirming quickens and I see it take on a more determined attitude.  Have I gone too far with you?

My hands grasping your shoulders, I pull you back against me and speak soothingly.  “Don’t panic.  You’re doing okay.  You can handle this; there’s no need to be afraid.  I’m right with you in case anything unplanned happens.  All you need to do is just keep concentrating on enjoying how helpless you are and on the pleasures of what’s being done to you.  I’ve got you, Jessica.  And you know you can do this.  Now enjoy your helplessness while I get the lock.”

I hold you for a moment longer while your squirming settles back to something closer to the sensuous rhythms of arousal, then I leave you for just a moment.  Not two seconds later, you can feel my touch on your neck as my fingers thread the staple of the lock through the loop in the buckle.  Then you hear the soft snap of the lock closing, and you know you are inescapably sealed into your little leather prison.

Again, my hands begin roaming your body, teasing your exposed skin and focusing on your erogenous zones.  My fingertips lightly touch your hips and slowly trace their way diagonally down to your groin, but vanish from the surface just before getting there.  Meanwhile, my mouth is suckling and nibbling the back of your shoulder and the nape of your neck just below the collar of the hood.  I even tease myself by using my nose to knock the little lock dangling from the buckle just behind your ear and making it swing back and forth.  I don’t know if you can feel that, but I can see it and, for a moment, I imagine myself trapped inside the hood, locked in place, sucking on that dildo and pulling on my bound hands to ensure myself of my helplessness.  I’m horny, not just from my brief imagining, but much more so from observing how you respond to the way I’m playing with you and your inability to resist, captive to the bondage I’ve imposed upon you.

I hear your breathing increase, the sound of it growing louder through the little nostril holes in the hood, as my hands and mouth continue teasing you.  Again my left hand plays with your breasts and sometimes your nipples while my right hand reaches down to tenderly tease your labia.  I love that you react to this, your hips thrusting forward as if to drive deeper the steel balls within you.  I discover the juices of your arousal collecting abundantly there, and my fingers come away with a liberal coating.  I reach my hand up near my nose and take in the scent of your excitement.  Then I rub some of the slick fluid on the face of the hood, just below the nostril holes, allowing your own aroma to mix with that of the leather.  Then my hand moves back to your groin to continue playing with you there.

Your knees buckle slightly and you stumble back against me, a groan of pleasure escaping the thick leather covering your plugged mouth.  I continue teasing your labia as the rest of your sex is locked away behind the tight leather strap, while my other hand begins shifting more focus upon your nipples, pulling and kneading them, sometimes pinching or giving a little twist to emphasize that you cannot escape my attentions.  Was that a whimper I heard you make?  You want more, don’t you?  I’m sure you want the crotch strap removed so I can play with more of your vulva, but that’s not going to happen.  And besides, it’s time to continue your bondage.

“You said you wanted to be encased.  Well, I’ve got your head encased in leather, and your arms and hands as well.  The straps of the harness hold you, but they don’t really encase you.  So let’s finish you up properly so you can meditate on what it means to be encased, and fully enjoy a bondage session specifically focused on leather.”

I know from my own experience, that you can’t see any light at all from inside that hood, but as long as you haven’t got the added disadvantage of earplugs, you can still hear through the leather pretty well, albeit somewhat muffled.  So you can’t see me shuffling through the abundance of leather gear hanging in the wardrobe, but you can hear me moving about for the most part.  It’s perfectly natural for you to focus intently on what sounds manage to penetrate the leather of the hood, but without a frame of reference, you can’t much tell what it is you’re listening to.  At this point, about all you can accurately hear is the rustle of heavy material, which you know must be leather, and a large sheet of it, or at least a sizable garment.  Realizing how much sound I created while handling the item I had chosen for you, I glance over at you and see that your breathing has quickened again, and I smile to see the excitement of your expectation.  It pleases me no end that bondage excites you in much of the same way it excites me.

As I approach you, I assess your state of arousal, remembering how I have felt in similar situations.  With your hearing somewhat impaired and your sight completely taken away, your sense of touch is heightened greatly.  And that’s very much the reason that I enjoy sensory deprivation, that and it also heightens my sense of helplessness, which I’m sure you also feel right now.  And as you feel more leather draped at your feet, it seems to me that it sends a sudden little thrill through you.

Grasping your ankle, I coax you to lift your bare foot, and as I help you set it down, you feel yourself standing on leather.  There’s a sense of comfort to the feel of it as it insulates your sole from the cool of the cement floor.  I do the same with your other foot, setting it down so your feet are together, and you can feel that I’ve made you step into something that I placed beneath you.  Again, you can hear the heavy material sounds as I work the item up your legs.  By its soft and supple feel, you can tell this is garment leather, like the hood and the armbinder, rather than the tougher latigo leather of the strappy body harness.  You can also tell by the feel of it that it’s not a big, roomy garment, but something reasonably narrow as you shift your legs a bit to better feel what I’m dressing you in.

You can feel me pull this piece of leather gear up to your waist, where it covers your bound hands which are tightly pinned against your ass.  Then you feel a narrow band of the item tighten around your upper thighs, and you guess that it must be a belt or strap at that level of the item.  You now know that your bare legs have, together, been completely covered in leather, and you can’t help but churn your hips in arousal as you feel me working some laces down by your ankles, tightening the garment so it’s nice and snug, holding your feet together.  The tightening continues up your legs, methodically and inexorably, until it reaches the tight band at your upper thighs.  Then you feel me tightening the ankles more, and again working my way up your legs, making sure they are sealed together in a firmly held embrace.  The pressure is smooth and even upon the entire length of your legs except for the tops of your thighs, but this is about to change.  A band around your ankles tightens a bit more, then another band at mid-calf.  As you feel the same tightening band of greater pressure just below your knees, and then just above them, you guess that there are extra straps being fastened, ensuring the impossibility of your escape.  Yet another strap is tightened at mid-thigh, and your leg bindings seem complete.

At this point I fold down the portion of this binder from your waist, to bare your body down to the snug strap at the tops of your thighs.  Once again, I begin to explore the degree of swelling in your exposed labia, my fingers eliciting a surprised jerking away from you, followed immediately by you thrusting your hips forward again to me.  You have swollen up nicely and the whole area there, vulva, inner thighs and tightly bisecting strap are all completely slathered in the thick liquid of your arousal.  My fingers slip around easily in this natural lubricant as I poke along the edge of the strap, finding it difficult to weasel a fingertip beneath it to find more flesh longing for my touch.  Being already on my knees from working on the leg bindings, I lean in and press my face to your Venus mound, my tongue lapping up some of the juices on the strap and your protruding, swollen labia.  Your hips buck and I hear you moan.  Even through the flesh of your abdomen against my face, I can feel the swirling of the steel balls buried deep inside you.

“I hope you like this attention, because you’re only getting a limited amount of it.  I’m about to seal you away inside your body binder, at which point, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t touch you or kiss you.”

You groan louder and I sense a bit more fluid collect against my returning tongue.  I lap it up lovingly, enjoying your flavor, and spend another minute working at your pleasure, but careful not to push you too close to the brink of orgasm.  If you can manage a climax from the steel spheres inside you, good for you, but I won’t push you there with my tongue.  At least not yet.  First, you have to experience some serious leather encasement for a while.

My fingernails lightly rake down the skin of your abdomen, teasing along the edge of the crotch strap, slowly making their way down to where my tongue and lips are still busy teasing you.  Then I pull away and press my thumb against the strap exactly over your clitoris.  Applying pressure, I move my thumb in little circles, forcing the tight strap to move a little bit against your sensitized nub.  I grin to see you throw your head back, and to hear a new and desperate groan escape the hood.  The leather around your cheeks puffs out and sucks back against your cheeks as you pant for breath.

“Do you like how tight this crotch strap is?” I ask you in a loving tone.

You nod, still panting.

“I don’t,” I tell you.  “It needs to be tighter.”

You feel my fingers working the buckle, then feel your bound and encased fingers pulled more tightly against your anus as the sturdy leather strap further crushes your already mashed clit and cuts more deeply into your well lubricated folds.  You know it’s tight enough that the edges may soon become painful.  Lube or no lube, the strap will eventually chafe against your tender and now inflamed labia.  And once I seal you up into your leather body binder, you know there will be no escape from the crotch strap’s cruel embrace.

With the buckle set an extra notch tighter, I return to the task of encasing you.  I pull the leather up over your bound hands and forearms in back, and over your hips and belly in front to about waist high.  A belt at that level is pulled snug and buckled in place.  Higher yet I roll the supple leather up over your body, but I pause to lick and suck your nipples for a few moments.  You react with a delightful groan and a bit of a choking sound as you still have your own moments of struggle with the depth of the gag.  The brief nipple tease is short lived as I smooth the leather up over your breasts and pull another belt snug just above them.  Leather panels lay up over your shoulders from in front, and then another pair from in back, a built- in collar being attached to the part from the back.  Now you can feel me working with straps and buckles over your shoulders.  I wonder how well you’re envisioning the design of this binder as to how it opens for your whole body to enter through the top and then close up to completely cover your shoulders and neck, leaving no bare skin.  Well, you’ll just have to contemplate the possibilities as I fasten all the buckles and even out the tension.

It takes a couple minutes, but finally,with that done, once again I’m pulling on lacings, starting at the area from the hips up to the waist, and pulling everything nice and tight.  I know that you can feel the tightening in your hips and more pressure on your forearms, pulling them more tightly against your bottom.  More laces are then tightened up your right side and tied off, but it isn’t snug.  This is a twin set of laces, and as I pull on the left side laces, that’s when you feel it drawn snug and then worked to a greater tightness.  I’m careful, however, about pulling these too tight because you’ll still need to breathe.

It’s okay, though.  There’s another set of laces to give you that completely trapped feeling.  But first I work on adjusting the straps and buckles over your shoulders tighter to press the layer of leathers beneath them to your beautiful form.  I’m sure you can well feel the pressure of the leather tightening in on your shoulders from the sides.  Lastly, I work on the built-in collar of this garment.  It’s much like the one on the hood, and as I close it up around your neck, it completely covers the collar to the hood, including the little lock that keeps your head captive.  Of course, I don’t tighten this collar any more than I did the hood’s collar, and for the same safety reasons.  But like the collar now hiding beneath it, this one also takes a padlock, and I tell you so as I click one into place.

You might think I’m finished binding you, but you would be wrong.  You can feel me still doing something with the bindings at the tops of your shoulders, and then you sense a tugging at them, pulling inexorably upward.  This pulling causes the leather encasing the entire length of your form to tighten around your body and legs, pinning your bound arms even more tightly against your back, more so than the lacings and belts had done.  And the upward pull is lifting your weight.  You might be alarmed to find your heels leaving the floor as you rise to your toes.  And then even your toes depart terra firma.

As you are hoisted up by the shoulder connections to a set of pulleys overhead, you discover that a connection at your toes is anchoring you to the floor and you find yourself stretched slightly between earth and sky.  You find yourself pulled taut, unable to bend much at the hips or knees in this very controlling bondage.  The scary part is, because of your blindfold, you are unsure of how high you are off the floor, and a part of you wants to imagine you’re ten feet up or better.

I study you carefully, watching what little movements you can make and listening to every sound you utter.  I get the sense that you are trying not to panic.  If that’s true, I’ve done my job well, but I can’t take full credit for your emotional state.  I’m sure that fighting so deep a gag is adding to the panic trying to rise within you, and the growing panic is, in turn, nurturing a fear thaat you’ll lose the battle with the gag.  And that cycle feeds upon itself.  So I pay closer attention to you, watching to make sure you don’t succumb to such a frightening problem.

I take immediate action to prevent you from slipping too far from the pleasure of the scene.  There is a buckle on either side of the gag, installed to allow for adjustment, and I quickly readjust them so the gag pulls back a bit from your throat.  I watch you for a moment and see that your breathing is still a little heavy, but your hips tell me that it’s more the result of arousal than panic.  Still, I want to be certain.  “Jessica, if you could use a safeword right now, would you?”

It takes a moment before you respond, but you are shaking your head in the negative.

“Alright,” I agree.  “Are you still feeling horny?”  I’m of the belief that you are, but it’s best to get conformation from you.  I smile to see you nod vehemently, silently communicating that you are, indeed, still very much enjoying your captivity, at least on a sexual level.  “Good girl,” I praise you.  “I’m going to masturbate now while I watch you, but I should warn you that you’re not going anywhere for at least a couple hours.  Say, maybe, five or six.  And, yes, that gag is going to be tightened back in again like it was.  I might just tighten it in even deeper than before.  I might also experiment to see if you’re ticklish through the leather.  Oh, and I’ve also discovered that the static electric spark from a Violet Wand is easily able to penetrate leather to great effect.  Maybe we’ll try that in a little while.  But that’s for later.  In the meantime, squirm and struggle for all you’re worth, Jessica, and simply enjoy your leather encasement.  And don’t forget; you asked for it.”

-