32 Hours

Here I am squatted down in somewhat of a upright fetal position in the shadows of a dirty closet on the first floor of a filthy abandoned building on Lake Street about six blocks West of downtown Chicago on a balmy Friday night in July. My name is Alicia.

My black leather elbow length gloved hands are locked behind my back at the wrists with a medium sized brass “master Lock” attached to a leather lead strap that is connected to a posture collar that is locked about my neck. The posture collar is firmly holding on my head a black leather lace up hood with openings for my eyes, two small holes for my nose and a small hole where the mouth would be. Under that hood is a large red ball gag tightly buckled between my red painted lips that all but covers the mouth hole in the mask. My ankles of my black size 8 knee high lace up leather boots with a 5 inch heal are locked together with another larger brass “Master Lock” that allows for 2-3 inches of gap between the ankles. My Black pleated latex skirt has risen up to expose my sheer thigh high stockings and lace garter belts. I’m not wearing any panties. They had been replaced by a length of chrome chain that is wrapped tightly around my waist and pulled roughly between my legs and is locked just below the small of my back with another small brass “master lock.” The chain has become my steel g-string digging deeply into the soft flesh between my legs. The chain is not without purpose. Its application was to hold the large black butt plug and the 6-inch extra thick black latex dildo tightly in place. I did not use any vibrators on this trip I had been a “bad girl” and I needed punished.

It’s a stiflingly hot and humid night in the city I can feel the sweat rolling down the inside of my mask and combining with the drool from my gag and dripping coolly across my exposed breasts. The pain in my nipples has turned to a dull ache as the three pair of clover nipple clamps has chewed on them for several hours now. Occasionally I feel a spike of pain when I move my head slightly, and the movements of my posture collar jostle clamps. I had placed the biting jaws of the first clamp on the tip of my left nipple then I threaded the chain through the ring on the front of the collar then attached the clamp to my hardened but supple right nipple. When I released my 36C breasts the chain was drawn taunt and the clamps drew tightly painfully bearing the weight of the breasts. I attached one of the jaws from the second pair of clover nipple clamps to the areola of the left breast on the right side of the clamp from the first nipple clamp then I threaded the second clip through the ring on the right side of the posture collar then back down and clamped it to the left side of the areola again next to the clamp from the first nipple clamp. This process was repeated on the right breast nipple so I had three clamps from my clover nipple clamps on each nipple and the weights of both breasts were supported partially by the nipple clamps. So basically I had a torturously brutally painful nipple clamp bra. I did have a half-cup black latex bra on that did support enough of the weight of my breasts to keep from ripping the nipple clamps loose but not enough to take the weight off the nipple clamp chains. This would have to be endured for the duration of my bondage since as I told you all my hands are tightly locked behind my back with no chance of reaching my tortured nipples to release them. I have always been a true masochist it has always been about pain.

Well back to me, I have a petite build I’m 5 foot 4 inches tall and weigh 126 lbs with brown eyes and brown hair. (I somewhat self-conscious about my height so you would never know I was only 5 4”since I’m never in a pair of shoes with less that a 4-inch heal. Yes I have tortured my feet for years in extreme heels.) I did have my breasts enhanced to the 36C in my early 20’s since I failed to inherit the breasts that were a genetic gift to the rest of my family but I did inherit my mother’s sexy Latina ass. By the way I’m 31 now single with no children.

So how did I end up here like this tonight? As I have told you all I am quite the pain slut. Yes slut I’m not one of those prudish women that get all bent out of shape when the “S” word is dropped. I have wonderfully active perversely kinky sex life that includes multiple male and female friends/partners so by definition I must fall into the classification of a slut. But strangely enough I believe that most people that I know think I’m quite reserved since I have been conditioned so far past “vanilla sex” that I have little to no interest in the typical dating scene or sex and I’m never seen with any companions by my friends and family. But this is all strangely overshadowed with my extreme fetish for self-bondage and masochism.

My occupation that deals with property law provides me with a significant amount of work autonomy and allows me access to multiple vacant locations. This Friday night in July had I decided to call a friend who I knew would be out of town for a few weeks and he would allow me access this rundown rat infested property on Lake Street. (At the time I did not know about the rat infested part) He knew all about my perversions, but since he was submissive and gay had no interest in me outside of friendship. I did not have to concern myself with thoughts of his interventions. I planned my adventure to start three days prior to his return so he could not pop in to check on me. I also told him I would ignore any calls from him so he could not check up on me until he got back. So even if I was loose and walking around Chicago he would not know so he would have to just leave me to my fate until he is back.

The means or should I say keys for the release my from the “master locks” locking my ankle, wrists together and posture collar were mailed to the building prior to my start. I dropped them into the mailbox outside my townhouse Thursday on my way to the property. I knew that they would be delivered to the building by Saturday afternoon at the latest I was hoping for a Friday delivery. The keys to unlock my leather wrist, ankle cuffs and my chain g-string were left in my house. I would have to get back there to get out of my outfit. So Thursday came and I was ready. I came home early knowing that it would take me a little time to get ready. I had only a health shake that day and gave myself an enema to make sure I would not have any issues with the butt plug later. I had dropped off two gallons of water at the building on Wednesday in the event that I would need it but I had found out that there was running water in the building so I knew that I could get a drink if needed though it would be quite hard with the gag and hood on but I could manage to suck water out of a dirty bowl that I brought there and placed on the floor of a disgusting old public bathroom on the fourth floor. It made me hot to think about myself restrained dressed like a whore crawling around on a filthy old public bathroom lapping water out of a dirty old bowl like an animal.

It took me about an hour to get fully dressed plugged in both holes. I always have to fight off the urge to play with myself when I lock my boots on my feet the feel of standing in the tightly laced 5 inch heeled leather boots rubbing against the sheer stockings locked to my feet is euphoric to me. I ran out to mail box around 4 pm I knew the last pickup would be at 5 pm. I dropped in the keys and my fate was sealed. I quickly ran back to the to pick up the rest of my needed items. First I picked out a small black Gucci purse in that I placed my drivers license and $ 50 cash, basic makeup and a small brush. This is all that I needed for transportation. In a small drawstring pouch I placed my remaining primary bondage locks. my nipple clamps, the hood, the gag, and posture collar. My plan was to take a cab to the building give him the whole $ 50 then I would have to find my own means home with no money and still locked in an outfit that makes me look like a street tramp. The building was several miles from my townhouse so walking was out of the question and I would not even have enough money to take the train or a bus. Not that I would have dressed like this. My transportation home plan was dependent on my ability to flirt my way into the club that was a few blocks away from the building with no money. Then to seduce a man or woman for a ride home and pay any toll in flesh that is required. This should be fun since I would have spent a minimum of hours and the most a day or two tied and tortured in an abandoned filthy building.

The time had come I left the house around 6 pm hid my house key in my spot then down the street I went. The nice thing about Chicago is people generally don’t pay attention to other people especially around rush hour like it was then. I was initially terrified about being seen dressed like this by the people that lived around me but when I got away from my house I was fine. The first problem I had was hailing a cab. It would seem none of them wanted to give me a ride I stood on the corner for 20 min as they went past me one after the other. I was about to give up and start walking when a well dressed gentleman stepped out of a doorway and was standing next to me on the corner. It was obvious that he noticed me but was not willing to acknowledge me. He seemed startled when I asked him if he minded hailing a cab for me since they don’t seem to want to stop for a “hooker.” I chuckled to myself as I called myself that and my statement visually embarrassed him as he blushed but I had resigned myself to the humiliation of my predicament. He was kind enough to oblige me and I was sliding into a cab in no time at all. He got quite the eye full when I jumped into the cab and my skirt rode up to expose everything under. Into the cab and the indignities just kept rolling. The “friendly” yellow cab driver was furious that I was in his cab not the businessman. He demanded under his heavy accent that I “get out” it was not until I handed him the $ 50 that he stopped yelling. He did insist that I sit on a newspaper because he didn’t want to have “respectable” customers follow after me. He was adamant about the fact that he would not pick me up later and he normally would not go into the part of town at night. It then dawned on me that I never went there at night so my nerves began fester with thoughts of potential concerns. We pulled up and I was quickly ushered out with an insult and away he went. I quickly shuffled to side door of the building and punched in the code to unlocked brokers box on the doorknob opened with the key returned the key to the box and in I went.

Before I could change my mind about my plan I was up the stairs to the 8th floor and finished applying my nipple clamps, hood, posture collar, the gag and then closed my eyes and click, click. I was helpless alone in an eight story locked abandoned building on the West Side of Chicago. My walk up 16 flights of stairs in my 5” heel boots had my legs on fire as well what the stairs did to my orifices with the dildo and the plug in.

So there I was I had no money, no means for escape, I had a silk blouse on over my bra but I took it off and hid it with the purse on the 1st floor, so I was naked from the waist up.

I decided to test the limits of my mobility and my bondage. I tugged at my wrist restraints and they were not giving an inch. I had 3 inches of ankle movement so all I could do was shuffle “clacking” the stiletto heels of my boots as I went. With every movement the 6 clover clamps on my nipples were ripping at the soft flesh. Pain was shooting through me in waves my ass was stretched to its max and the chain was steadily pushing the plug past the comfort point and expanding anal passage with every shuffling step. The dildo inserted deeply into my cunt was ripping at me with every movement that I made. The pain and suffering was on the seemed almost unbearable and I had only been there for maybe 20 min. I was on the brink of tears at the thought that I still had to spend possibly two more days like this. And to think I still needed to descend the same 8 stories of stairs I came up.

Gagged tied and tortured as I was. I felt the tension and doubt building in me. That’s when the first wave of orgasms hit me I was trying desperately to calm down and fight them back. The first one brought me to my knees. I dropped down throwing my head back as far as it could go with the collar belted tightly locked on and the clover clamps ripping at my nipples. But the clamps were not going to give any of that soft flesh at all. The pain rushed through my whole body and I was on the floor I could feel my juices flowing past the massive dildo in my sopping cunt I had rolled onto my stomach reached back and had hold of the heels of my boots in a hogtie type position thrusting my hips repeatedly into the dirty cardboard sheet I had found myself laid out on. I thrusted my hips over and over again against my silent ravisher as I screamed into my tightly laced and ball gagged mouth wrenching all the muscles in my crotch and ass. I went into a spasm of convulsions, the dildo in my crotch was too thick and unyielding I moaned and bit down harder on the gag and flexed my vaginal muscles against the brutal oversized lifeless latex shaft impaling my love canal. I released my heels and wrenched my hands into fists flexing them tightly against my wrist restraints. Then I rolled onto my back flexing my sphincter around the butt plug trying to eject the vile intruder to no avail. Then a flash of pain washed over my nipple and shot through my breasts and took the breath out of me. This must have been resulting from the release of pressure from my nipples as I rolled over to my back. I blacked out.

I woke up with a jolt I must have been out for less than a half hour. I was sore and spent and every inch of my body was in pain I had only been in the building for less than 3 hours. I stood up on and assessed all my binding all were in plac,e my nipples were still securely and painfully clamped. It was dark now so I shuffled my booted shackled stiletto heeled self past the debris on the floor over to the large dirty gray paint flaked windows facing east towards downtown. I felt a shutter of eroticism flush through me again when the reality of my self imposed predicament returned. I almost toppled over when the Lake street elevated train rocketed past the building. I was safely out of anyone’s view five stories above the passing train, but I instinctively lurched back from the window when I saw the train’s passengers. It had to be around 9 pm so I decided it was time to try and make my way down the stairs a few floors.

It’s hard to describe how hard it is to move restricted the way I am. The floors of the building were concrete littered with fallen plaster and other debris. The act of stepping over the smallest of obstructions requires a feet of balance and concentration as I can only lift my feet an inch or two off the ground one at a time and my heels seemed to want to get hooked on everything. Every time I had to correct my balance to keep from falling down I ended up jerking my clamped nipples sending another shocking spasm of pain through my breasts rocking me. At a few points I was required to brace myself against the wall and hop with both boots together over an obstruction. Each time sending my tortured and bruised 36C breasts bouncing against the unyielding jaws of the clover nipple clamps. If you have never played with a pair of the clover nipple clamps you might not know they are designed to tighten down when you pull on the chain on the end. So the chance of pulling a pair off if they are applied firmly is unlikely but if you succeed it will be brutally painful. After 35 min of nipple clamp wrenching shuffling, hopping, sliding and crawling I finally found myself at the 8th floor landing to the stairwell with a further brutalized breasts and crotch.

The stairwell was pitch black with no lighting past the stairs at the top of the landing by the doors for each floor. The lock that held my sexy 5’ lace up boots together at the ankle would not allow enough slack to be able to step down from one stair to the next. The hand rails as far as I could see were firmly attached to get down I would have to hold onto the rail with my leather gloved bound behind my back hands and hop with both feet from step to step all the way down from the 8th to the 1st floor. It sure sounded simple to me as I thought it out in my head so I tried the 1st step. If you have ever jumped in heals you would know they have no give when you land you hit with a jarring thud. With every jump and subsequent landing shockwaves of throbbing pain would shoot through my nipples into breasts. The oversized tandem intruders with every hop step progressed was pounding and stretching my crotch and anal cavities violently. I had calculated after counting that each flight had 12 stairs and there were 2 flights between floors. I was on the 8th floor so I would have to traverse 192 stairs to make it to the 1st floor. That was 192 nipple ripping and crotch/ass pounding steps.

After the first 8 stairs I was swelling with tears again and crying into the large red ball gag that held back my anguished suffering moans of pain-induced pleasure. By the time I made it down the 12 steps to the first landing I was already ruthlessly brutalized by the continual pounding my nipples and crotch were taking. That’s when I felt my internal masochist start to take hold. I felt another wrenching orgasm on the way. I started to convulse and lose my balance teetering in the sky-high stiletto boots. I knew I would be in serious trouble if I had a repeat of tonight’s first orgasm on the unsecured landing so I hoped down to the 2nd stair off the first landing and slid my still shackled wrists between the hand rail and the wall and dropped to my knees which forced me into a semi-kneeling semi-suspended strappado position with my head facing down the stairs into the darkness. I did this just in time as the orgasm hit me like a thunderbolt. I was convulsing and screaming into the gag. Once again I could feel my bodies juices flow down my crotch to my inner thigh wetting my sheer thigh high stockings and dripping on to my lovely black fetish boots.

Thankfully this time I did not collapse like last time and was just dangling there in the dark stairwell panting into my hood and gag. That’s when I first noticed that I was not alone in the building. I had twisted myself back around and hopped back up the two steps to the upper landing to get myself lose from the handrail that supported my weight. Then I turned around and grabbed the handrail again with my bound hands behind my back and restarted my torturous trip to the 1st floor.

I progressed down four more punishing steps when I froze in fear at what I saw on the next landing down. I have been involving myself in self-bondage adventures like this for the past seven years and could not ever remember an instance in which I had felt more helpless terror than that moment. On the landing directly below me in the darkness I could make out two of the largest rats I have ever seen. They were rooting around foraging and sniffing the air. I’m sure I attracted them with smell of my moist lubricated sex. I have always enjoyed the feeling of helpless exposure I felt when I was dressed like this. But that feeling was quickly replaced with that feeling of terror. In an instance images of me being swarmed by hundreds of rabid filthy rats sprang into my head. I pictured myself in my sexy little outfit and boots. Bound, gagged, hooded, plugged and nipple clamped kicking and screaming rolling around on the floor fighting to get loose from my shackles as hundreds of the horrible filthy devils rip, tear and gnaw at my flesh soft flesh. Then my body rebelled against my fears and I felt myself moistening at the thought of the nightmare that just flashed through my head. I looked down just in time to see a drip fall from my moist crotch float past the dried milky white ringed stain of sexual secretion on my inner calf of my spike heel boot and land on the gradually pointed toe. I felt shameful at the perverse sickness of my arousal and thought how twisted a pain whore I am, as I would probably have multiple orgasms as I was ripped to pieces by the lice laden fiends. I came out of my fantasy and shuffled a piece of debris from the stairs with the point of my boot towards them sending them scurrying into the darkness. I recovered my composure and continued my painful slow hopping decent down to the 1st floor. I’m sure I would not be the last time I would encounter rats in this filthy dilapidated building.

What I believe was around two and a half hours and 96 steps later I found myself on my knees sobbing at the entrance to the 4th floor. It was hard to estimate the time or even think. It had to be after 2 am but I could not tell I had been reduced to a sobbing wretch. The only thoughts drumming through my head was the pounding throbbing pain that seemingly coursed through every inch of my body. I was totally enveloped in pain I was not thinking about my restraints or how vulnerable my situation was. Not thinking about the rats, the 4 floors to go to get to the 1st floor, if the keys would ever arrive in the mail to release my locks.

I was completely enveloped in the raging agonizing all enveloping pain that was over 12 hours aching jaw from a large ball gag. The endless hours of 3 clover nipple clamps grinding and tearing on each tender nipple. The endless hours of ripping, and stretching of my tiny anal opening by the brutally large plug. The endless hours of the 6-inch extra thick black dildo stretching my delicate love slit. The endless hours of grinding on my soft vulva and my supple clitoris by the unyielding, biting, locked on chrome chain. The endless hours of standing, walking, and hopping on the tightly laced up 5 plus inch black stiletto heeled boots. The endless hours of ache in my shoulders, and arms from my wrists being shackled tightly behind my back. But I am a true masochistic slut this was where I wanted to be this is how I wanted to feel.

I knelt there with my head down silently sobbing into my gag submissive to the pain for another 30 min or so. Finally the wrath of my pain reduced itself to a level that I could endure, then exhaustion took me and I crashed into sleep.

I awoke with a jolt from my troubled sleep. I have to say I always love the feeling of shocking surprise and disorientation when I wake up helplessly bound and gagged. I was lying on my side with the upper portion of my body inside the doorframe leading to the main 4th floor hallway. I had no idea how long I had been asleep I could see sunlight through the window at the end of the hall so I knew it was Friday but I didn’t know what time it was. The heat of the day had obviously set in so I figured it had to be at least noon or later. I had set up the dirty bowl in the floor under the dripping faucet on the 4th floor in the event I wanted to take a drink. I was not really thirsty with the gag in I have been choking down saliva continually so my mouth and throat were always moist. But I know I need to take in some water with temperatures like they are.

It took me a few attempts to wiggle myself into a position that would allow me to maneuver myself to my feet. The floor was covered with plaster duct, broken glass, rocks, and dirt and who knows what else. I rolled over onto my side pulled my boots up under me used the wall to edge my way up to a seated position then pushed myself up using the wall for support. All of this movement reignited the flame of pain in my nipples and nether regions. At this point my nipples were completely brutalized from the continual wearing of the nipple clamps. My nipples were no strangers to this type of abuse. I can't even count how many times that I have been left unceremoniously bound, gagged, clamped, and tied up on the floor of some random basement or bedroom, sore and used up to sleep the night like a like a dirty used sex toy tossed to the side.

Now standing again on wobbly, shackled, and fetish booted feet I brushed myself off the best I could then started the down the hallway to the filthy long abandoned large public washroom. It was hard travel at first but after about 10 feet the stiffness from the previous night was gone and I was back into my normal bound stride. This hallway was as dilapidated as the rest of the building I was again stepping on, in, and around all manner of debris. I reach the door and looked into the room. Filthy does not quite describe the condition of this bathroom. All of the fixtures were intact and it was obvious that several people continued to use the commodes long after they ceased proper functioning. My first instinct was to just shuffle my tight little butt plugged ass right on past nasty old room, but I quickly remembered my role here. I reminded myself that I was a dirty little submissive bondage whore and I was not good enough for this room.

I must have subconsciously turned to the wall because next thing you know I was rubbing my clipped nipples back and forth against the wall sparking a fresh wave of pain through my breasts. Then I felt a moist drip run down my thigh from my aching wet cunt hole. At that point sauntered into the room as horny a randy cat. I felt dirty in that room. I felt sexy in that room. Next thing you know I was rubbing my crotch against the frame of one of the old stall doors trying to work the large dildo securely chained into my love canal. I felt the orgasm hitting me when I lost my balance and dropped to my knees. That didn’t stop the orgasm. I gasped and slid to the floor from the force of my wave of ecstasy. There I was writhing in pleasure at the foot of a commode in a room that 10 min ago I was to disgusted to even enter. I fought my bindings as the pleasure ripped through me. Screaming, rolling and writhing on that ancient piss covered floor. The orgasm just kept on forever it seemed. This was not ecstasy from pain the way the other ones were this was a different type. This was spawned from humiliation. I saw myself as a filthy slut whore animal rolling around on the floor where so many have in the past pissed and shit. I would not stop the orgasm seemed endless. My eyes were closed I fought my bindings bit my gag I remembering how I did all of this to myself. Wrought with erotic ecstasy and still in the grips of the relentless orgasm I rolled to my stomach and drew my knees under me towards my breasts. This motion dragged my clipped and raw nipples upward off the ground and placed me on my knees with my right shoulder and my forehead flush with the dirty floor. I continued to kneel there as spasms of pleasure hit me in intermitted shocks. Then the orgasm was over.

Once again I found myself in that same familiar place. On a dirty floor nipples screaming with pain, jaw brutally gagged and aching, wrists firmly secured behind my back, my neck forced static by the posture collar, shiny black lace up knee high stiletto boots secured together at the ankles, and ass in the air with my pleated latex skirt a kilter exposing my dildo stuffed cunt and my butt plugged ass hole. I have been here less than 24 hours. It seems like I have been here forever. I still have hour’s maybe days here. I’m a self-bondage whore I did all of this to myself. I can feel myself getting hot again.

I was still on my knees so I decided to work my way over to that nasty bowl I placed under the dripping water. I scooted my way over knelt over the bowl submerging my hooded gagged face in the questionably clean water trying to suck it in around my ball gag. This did not work I could not push the gag out and suck in the water at the same time. I started to become frustrated I didn’t think I was thirsty but with the water so close it became apparent I was. I realized if I forced my head to the bottom of the bowl I could push the gag further back into my throat the water would fill my mouth then when I let off the gag would seal it and I could let it run down the back of my throat. This was the only relief I have since my adventure started. I took a few last gulps to get my fill then I worked my way up to my feet closed the faucet fully with my behind the back bound gloved hands. Then I squatted over the bowl and then urinated into the bowl. If I wanted any more after this I would have to drink my own filth with it. With the prospect of spending possibly another night like this and as hot as it has been the dirty urine water mixed bowl may look very appealing later. I could just picture myself forcing my head to the bottom of the acrid urine mixed water for a drink. I started to get horny again.

It was getting later in the day so I decided that I needed to start down to the 1st floor and wait on the mail. I had concerns that I would have the enough energy later to attempt the stairs. So shuffled back down the hall on the 4th floor from the bathroom to the stairs. I was feeling surprisingly good considering what I had put myself through up to this point. I was optimistic that the keys would be delivered today and I would be in a warm bubble bath this evening. I didn’t want to think about having to stay another night I would just break down.

Looking down from the top landing of the 4th floor to the broken down debris filled stairs leading down I started the process down again. Gloved hands bound behind my back holding the rail as I hop from stairs the ankles of my stiletto boots tightly locked together. Thump, thump, thump, once again my clipped breasts, plugged ass hole and stuffed crotch were taking a torturous pounding. This trip was proceeding like the last one until I made it to the landing between the 4th and 3rd floor. I gasped into my gag when I realized that there was no handrail leading from the landing to the 3rd floor landing. I had 2 choices I could craw down the stairs or I could try hopping without anything to hold onto for balance and chance tumbling down the 12 stairs. It was late afternoon anxious to check the mail and I didn’t want to waste time crawling down. So I stood at the first step bent at the knees clinched my fists and hopped down to the first step. With a jarring thud I hit the step hard the 5-inch heels the boots had no give when they hit. I hopped to the next and momentum started to take hold and I was forced to continue to hop loosing the control to stop as I went.

When I had the stairs to hold onto I could moderate the pounding my nipples, crotch, and ass took. My 36C’s were wildly bouncing out of control ripping against the clover nipple clamps as physics compelled me untethered down the flight of stairs. I could barely maintain control without taking a header keeping the ankles of my boots tightly together and my knees bent. I was screaming into my big red ball gag and wrestled against my bindings as gravity maintained it hellish pull down. The dildo in my crotch and the plug in my ass were pounding my openings equal to the violence of my decent. Years of wearing sky-high heels were what keep me from killing myself in that stairwell. Four steps from the 3rd floor landing and my breasts were twirling and bouncing the nipple clamps were ripping all manner of direction and the inserted latex friends were pounding my like I was an wild orgy whore. With only two stairs to go I felt another orgasm mounting. With one stair left and I was in full blown orgasmic ecstasy. By the time I hit the 3rd floor landing I bounced off the wall and hit the floor in a seizure of pleasure. Once again the combination of excruciating pain and uncontrollable pleasure had hold of me and again. I was on the floor pelvic area convulsing in spasms, I was gasping and panting riding the wave of orgasm. I was returned to my reality from the haze of orgasm. Greeted with the familiar throb of whole body pain and the sounds of me sobbing into my large red ball gag. I got myself up and continued my trip to the 1st floor. With one last painful hop I found myself on the landing leading to the 1st floor. The trip from the 3rd floor to the 1st floor was uneventful all the rails were intact and the steps were relatively free of debris.

I stood there looking into the first floor from the stairwell. I was shielded from view by the frame of the door in a way in which my head was the only thing visible. I could not just move onto the 1st floor like the other floors because large windows encircled the entirety of the floor so it was well lit and if I was to wander out I would be in clear view to the outside from several angles. If I moved quickly I could slip into a variety of closets that line each of the halls. A token effort was made to cover up some of the windows with white butcher paper but light easily slipped past the gaps around the edges of the paper. I could easily make out the glass front door from where I was standing. It was after 4:00 pm because I could see that a pile of mail had been deposited between the outside door and the inner door through the mail slot. I had removed all the accumulated mail to an old table just inside the front door when I brought the jugs of water previously. The excitement was overwhelming me I had been in pain so long to this point all I could think about was removing the clamps from my brutalized nipples.

So I decided to work my way over to the door even though there was plenty of daylight left outside. I just wanted to look and see if I could make out the pink envelope I had sent the keys in. I shuffled as quickly as I could to the first closet and ducked in. Then to the second closet in the hall and in I went. I could not quite make out the pile of mail so i had to make another move closer but the problem was I was out of closets. I would have to expose myself to take a look. I decided I could not handle the anticipation for the four hours until it turns dark. So I casually sauntered into the open lobby area of that abandoned building to take a look at the mail pile just inside the outer door. My heart sunk. It was not there. I could see all the mail strewn about the floor of the foyer and none of it was my pink freedom letter. I just stood there and started to sob again. I was there for around 5 min until I realized the openness of my location and shuffled back to the 1st closet. I slid down to my knees in the first closet and started to weep into my gag. I felt the tears running down my leather-masked face. I knelt there for the next hour lamenting in a haze of pain and depression. I have subjected myself to over 24 hours of continual seclusion, bondage, and pain now I had to face at least 24 more hours. I started to struggle in my bindings and grind my crotch against my booted calf folded under myself. I knew if I didn’t get my head back into this tie I would not make it until the next mail drop.

Previously when I was standing on the landing off the stairs to the 1st floor I noticed the stairs that led to the basement. I decided that I would pass the time with some bondage exploration of the basement. I hopped over to the door to the stairs to the basement and look down into the darkness. I could feel the dampness and the musky tomb-like smell creeping up from stairs. Down I went into the darkness hopping while holding onto the rails. Two flights down and I was standing in front of a slightly ajar basement door. I pushed on it and in I went. The rush of the damp musky smell rushed over me and I was intoxicated with it. It smelled to my like I imagined every horrifying place for torture throughout history must have smelt. The basement was large and open with cement columns ever 12 feet or so supporting the structure. It was all exposed brick with mounds of rubble, brick and other debris. There were small barred dirty windows situated every 10 feet. The floor had a thick coat of dirt and dust with areas of dampness located unsystematically. A few things caught my eyes immediately. On the columns were a series of rings and hooks ranging between 4-8 feet high. Some were rings set into brackets like you may seen in a horse barn or perhaps a dare I say dungeon. There were hooks jutting out of then in the shape of “J’s” and “L’s.” I shuffled further into the room to get a better look.

I try not to jump into things that I don’t thoroughly plan out but sometimes my compulsions take control and this was one of those times. I had noticed a “L” hook that had been jutting no more that 2 inches out of one of the columns near the center of the room. This hook was at the perfect height to hook the ring of my posture collar. My posture collar was designed with 3 rings on it 2 placed on the side of the neck and one in front. The rings have a “D” ring loped into the leather of the collar and a larger “O” ring attached to the “D.” The chains to the clover nipple clamps were threaded through the larger “O” rings in the collar. I knew if I could just find something to stand on that was maybe 2 inches high I could snag the hook with the large ring in the front. That’s when I noticed the lose brick on the floor right next to the column. I could stand on the brick arrange the ring then step off the brick and I would be shackled to the column by the collar. I don’t know why I even was considering it this it would be extremely difficult to get unhooked if I did this. I was alone in the basement of this crumbling abandoned building actually thinking about doing something that could potentially completely remove my ability to get my self lose from my self bondage at the least, and at the worst it could be quite a dangerous decision.

Next thing you know I had kicked the brick up to the column and was on tiptoes of my boots struggling to loop the ring over the “L” hook. I felt it hook and without a thought I stepped off the brick and shuffled it off to the side. The ring on the posture collar pulled taunt and I was hooked solidly to the column with my hands still locked behind my back and my 5-inch stiletto heeled boots firmly locked together at the ankle. The effect this had on my nipples and breasts was excruciating. In this position my breasts were brutally forced against the column and my clamped nipples were rubbing against the coarse concrete. I failed to notice the base of the column was wider that the top so it tapered out from top to bottom as well as the base was rounded where it met the floor so this forced the toes of my boots an extra inch out from the base. This gave me the effect of being somewhat suspended by my collar leaning forward even though I could touch the ground with the bottom of my boots.

This situation that I had haphazardly put myself into was one of the most erotically terrifying situations I have ever experienced. At that point I was convinced that I had made a terrible mistake and I would not be able to free myself. The reality of the fact I could die down here with no one knowing where I was or finding me for weeks later after those fucking rats had eat at me. The pain from my nipples was fierce I was so restricted I could hardly move at all. I felt the orgasm well up from deep inside me and build as I struggled against my immobility and excruciating pain. Once again it hit me in shockwaves one after the other I grunted into the gag. I shoved my breasts into the column forcing my nipples to stretch against the clover clamps. I tightened the muscles in my ass as well as my crotch in a vain attempt to expel the intruders chained there. The pleasure hit wave after wave I screamed, I wrenched at my bindings, I wailed. This was the most intense one I have had this whole endeavor. I was held taunt against the brutal unyielding concrete column shaking in vibrations of orgasmic pleasure.

I felt the orgasms start to pass when I pushed my breasts against the column and slid down against the hook pulling the nipple clamps tighter and forcing another scream of pain through my breasts at the same time I kicked my feet off the ground and grabbed my heels with my bound gloved hands supporting my entire 126 pounds of weight on the posture collar and forcing my breasts further against the column. This was pain and restraint overload. The fleeting orgasm came back with brutal force. I held onto the 5-inch heels and screamed as the orgasm hit in one long breathtaking wall of pleasure. I convulsed my sweaty raptured body for what must have been 5 min. Then I released the heels of my boots settling them to the floor and took in a gasp of air only to get hit again with a series of smaller sharper orgasms. I just leaned there with tremors pleasure shocking me between jolts of pain from my nipples. This went on for several more minutes, as I stood leaned against the column. I was jell-O on a hook.

I stood there hooked to that column for what was probably the next 2 hours basking in the glow of the immeasurably intense orgasm and the brutally intense pain I had suffered. It was not totally dark in the basement as the street lamps were shinning through the caged windows. I could see and hear the shuffling of a few of the rats that call the building home. It was after dark at this point and they were stirring. Their presence did not have such an effect on me as the first time I saw them in the stairs. I had surrendered to my fate at this point. I was a helpless used up whore left chained to a column in the basement of an abandoned building. Hands garbed in over the elbow black leather gloves locked together at the wrists. Mouth gagged with a wrenched tight red ball gag laced under a leather discipline hood. Bone black leather posture collar locked securely around my supple neck hooked to the rusty “L” hook protruding from the column. My dirty little black latex skirt barely covering the silk and lace garters holding up my sheer thigh high stockings. The glint of light off the half a dozen clover nipple clamps chewing at my bruised but erect nipples. The shaking and struggling of my leggs in the knee-high lace up leather boots with a 5 inch heal trying to support my tortured and used up little whore body. I jumped as I felt a rat run across my foot and rub against my sex stained boots. I had one more rocking orgasm as I stood there.

I found the energy to shuffle the brick back to a place with my toes and I climbed up on it. After 5 or so tries I was able to work the ring of the posture collar off the rusty ”L” hook and I crumbled to my knees on the basement floor. I refused to break down this time I accepted the role as the torture slut and quickly shuffled to my feet and decided I would move up to the 1st floor again and see if I could find a place to sleep for awhile.

Up the stairs to the 1st floor was far more grueling that the trip down. For those of you that have never tried to move up or down stairs bound you should know it’s far harder to move up them than down them when restrained. I had made it back up the stairs and decided I would work my way to the 1st closet in the hall from the stairs. It was dark and deep enough that I could hide in the back of it and still see the doorway and stay under the shadow of darkens. I drifted off to sleep.

I was shocked awake by a rattle at the front door. I was terrified because it was the inside door I was hearing so whoever it was made it through the 1st door. It had to be after 1:00 am because I have not heard a train for some time and it stops running every 15 min after 1:00 am. I moved ever so slowly to the door of the closet to look outside to see who it was. As I looked I saw a man in his late 50’s at least fumbling with a set of keys to the door. At first I did not recognize him but as my eyes adjusted to being awake, then I realized that it was one of the maintenance men I had seen before with my friend who is brokering this building. I did not know his name and the only time I had ever been close enough to him to interact with him we exchanged no words but I noticed the distinct smell of nicotine and alcohol infused in his aroma. He was weathered and burnt tan from the sun. He stood over 6 feet tall and was lean and muscular from years of obvious hard work. He was dressed in dirty work clothing but carried no tools. Then I noticed in his hand he was holding a pink envelope the very one I had mailed here. I was at a loss. In my haze of pain I did not understand how he had my letter in his hand. Then I realized that he had all of the mail. Oh my god did he come to collect the mail for his employers. Was he planning to take my letter with the rest and leave? I would have to expose myself or be left here with no means for escape. Then I noticed that he stacked all the mail on the table next to the door. A feeling of elation swept over me as soon as he left I would be free of my suffering.

This leads me back to the beginning of this story, as I am squatted down in somewhat of a upright fetal position in the shadows of a dirty closet on the first floor of a filthy abandoned building on Lake Street. The man that has me captive by his proximity seems in no hurry to leave. There is nothing here of interest to him. He does not know about my presence here in the building. Suddenly it becomes apparent why he came to the building and why he is hanging around. I edged closer to the door and noticed that the street had a variety of prostitutes loitering around. Across the street I noticed a statuesque black woman exiting a black Lexus 4 door with dark tinted windows. She was wearing pink thigh high spike heel boots, a matching pink micro mini skirt and a pink leather bra. She had heavy makeup and dark red lipstick. She walked with such confidence to the door I could feel myself getting wet just watching graceful movements. She strode right up stood outside the door. The man got up to meet her and it looked like the two of them were negotiating a price. They came to an agreement and she gestured the car and they both came into the building.

She was a true professional she had his pants down and a condom on him in a fluid motion he slipped her what I’m betting was 2 weeks pay and she was rubbing his cock between her hands and slid down to her knees to suck his manhood. I was startled by the size if him he had to be all of 10 inches and thick with girth. She moved on him and he rocked with the confidence of a man that has seen a thousand nights like this. I was dripping moist as I watched their dance of pleasure her pink shirt was hiked up showing her shaved love slit. His hand had a tight hold on the back of her head gently working it back and forth against his cock. She was rocking back and forth kneeling on those sexy thigh high stiletto boots on the filthy floor. In one quick motion she had spun around and was bent over in front of him and he went straight into her whore cunt with one fluid move and they were in perfect sexual rhythm.

It was more than I could take I had moved closer to and was rubbing my clamped nipples against the inside frame of the closet door moaning softly into my gag. The juices were once again dripping down my thighs all over my sexy black boots. I had closed my eyes for a second to concentrate on the trimmer orgasms that were hitting me when I opened them I saw the sexy pink hooker looking straight in my direction smiling like she saw me. There was no way she could see me but she must have. She didn’t miss a stride as she has up righted herself still taking his massive love in her. She had reached back with her right hand and held him behind the neck as her back pressed against his chest. With her left hand she was softly rubbing her clit. I was a horny as I had ever been I was tortured by lust there she was being roughly pleasured by that huge throbbing cock and here I was relegated to my lifeless inserted plug and dildo. Suffering and hiding in solitary silence and horrid nipple pain as she was engulfed in absolute pleasure.

Once again the orgasms started to hit me but this time I clinched my teeth into my gag and took every wave of pleasure in silence. When I looked up they had finished and were sharing a cigarette. She had walked over and found where I had folded the silk shirt that I had been wearing and used it to wiped the love from her wet crotch. Then she noticed my Gucci purse tucked under the cushion in the old chair outside the hallway next to the door where I hid it. She opened it and found my drivers license. She tucked my purse into her skirt line as if it was nothing at all. Her “client” had not noticed any of these things going on as he found my water and was refreshing himself. She told him she was going to relieve herself and she walked over and squatted down in the hall outside my hiding place and pissed on the floor. The smell of it filled my nostrils as it started to flow across the floor toward the closet in my direction. She smiled into the darkness patted my purse in her belt and headed out. She slowed down as she came close to the closet and whispered in to me. “Cunt I will be outside front the next hour pulling tricks if you want your shit back your bitch ass will better pay me quick.”

With that the both of them were gone and I was left alone again in the bound and gagged in the locked building. I felt an overwhelming compulsion to get the keys. I did not hesitate I was not concerned about being seen at this point I just sauntered out there in front of that glass door with no shame and grabbed the pink envelope feeling the keys inside as I did. I had moved back down the hall away from the windows and ripped the envelope open strewing the loose keys about the floor. I grumbled but I had become quite the expert picking up keys in this manor. In a short time I was free from my wrists restraints and unlocking the lock holding my posture collar on. At that point my head had free mobility and I could inspect my nipples. I was almost too scared to look at them. The way they feel I assumed they would be half torn off and bleeding. Upon inspection to my surprise they did not nearly that bad. They were obviously bruised and scraped. Now came the worst part of this adventure. The removal of the nipple clamps is always the most painful part of any bondage night. I wasted no time and removed the 1st set then the 2nd then the 3rd. I look at it like it’s a bandage. Just get them off quick. As I removed them the blood rushed back into them and I was in agony. I fell back against the floor and yelled into my gag. I lay there rubbing the nipples for the next several minutes. My nipples were tender and I knew I would not be wearing a bra for some time. I removed the rest of my restrictions and stood up on wobbly still heeled legs. Understand I was still locked into the leather cuffs around my ankles, wrists, and the chain that held the dildo and butt plug was still locked secure until I get home.

I was exercising my aching jaw trying to loosen it up. I then grabbed the 2 jugs of water and went to the small restroom on the 1st floor. I knew the plumbing did not work but it has a usable mirror and the street lamp shined directly into it so I had some light to work with. I looked like a wreck I was a serious mess of dirt and smeared makeup. It took every bit of the 2-gallon jugs of water to get me presentable enough to go outside. I put on my silk blouse that had been so carelessly discarded after the pink clad professional used it to wipe clean her sex. Now I face the dilemma of either doing the walk of shame out to the hooker’s car that was waiting outside to negotiate for my very expensive Gucci purse and my drivers license, or I could slip out the side door and find a way home dressed like I was.

I would love to tell you how I walked out to the car and demanded my things and how I was pressured into a series of sexual adventures but that would not be true. I slipped out the side door and made my way to the dance club around the corner. I knew without my license I would not be able to get in the club but I had another plan. I wandered up to one of the cabs in the cabstand. In it was an older black man in his 60’s. I started with the tears I told him how my purse and phone was stolen and if he would give me a ride home I had cash at my house and I would give him a great tip. He invited me in with a smile and reminded me that I would have a hard time running from the cops in my boots and he would sure call them if I tried to stiff him. I fell into the cab and was on my way home. I remember him waking me up in front of my townhouse. I must have fell asleep the minute he started the engine. I retrieved my hidden key ran inside and returned to the cab with hundred dollar bill for him. I thanked him blew him a kiss and in the house I went. I did remove the chain taking out the huge dildo and the butt plug. My holes were so used and stretched after the time in the building the unceremoniously popped out with no effort. Ten minuets later I was sleeping in my bed still locked in the wrist and ankle cuffs. I had locked my wrists back together with the lock then dozed off to sleep.

04.12.09