I moaned around the cock-shaped gag stuffed inside my mouth. I moaned because of the dildos stuffed into my cunt and ass which buzzed slowly as I stood there, nearly blind. The blindfold didn’t block all the light – out of the corner of my eye I saw him, as he walked around me. His whip swishing back and forth. Every now and then, when he was out of my vision he’d crack the whip, but he hadn’t struck me yet.
The latex was hot against my skin. When you wear clothes, you forget you are wearing them, they might press here and there against you, but you don’t think about the cotton fibers brushing against your skin, smooth and soft against your breasts and arms and cunt.
But the latex catsuit — the one that barely fit, that I had struggled into for him — pressed against my sweaty skin. His touch, as he bound me, was remembered by the skin beneath the latex. By my breasts were open to the air. He thrummed the cord tied to the nipple rings, pulling my breasts painfully up and out, targets for his whip.
I struggled against the bonds, the suit and ropes I was wrapped up in. I couldn’t move. I could feel every inch of my skin. My ass, pressed into tight latex, my breasts and cunt open to the air. There are breezes everywhere, stirred up by his motion around me. But it was like a distant caress, the barest touch of his presence, teasing me.
I wanted him to touch me. Every acre of my skin longed for his touch, his caress. Even for him to strike me and hurt me, if only he would touch me.
Out of the corner of my eye, he passed my vision: a darkness blocking out what little light I had. He cracked the whip. The dildos buzzed.
He did not touch me.
I moaned around the cock-shaped gag stuffed inside my mouth.