Saturday, 17 March 2018

Then Captive’s Revenge.

The captive’s revenge.

A while ago I reported on a session with Bondophile at which, with his agreement he was held captive in a lot of rainwear and in some very tight bondage.

I know how much he enjoyed the session, as much as me. What I had not realised was just how miffed he was that he couldn’t escape as he prides himself on his Houdini skills.

Needless to say as he had been kind enough to share with me a lot of his techniques I was, along with many layers of rainwear and a HUGE amount of bondage, to keep him captive.

He and I discuss scenarios all of the time and one of them is that we go fishing (the sitting beside the bank dressed in rainwear not the trawler kind of fishing) where we could both be legitimately dressed to thrill and I’d tie him up and then down in some style.

Thus I’d be able to respond to fellow anglers who always ask the same thing “caught anything yet?” With “yes, just the one”. Not adding of course that the “one” was a distinguished gentleman from Scotland dressed head to toe in rubber and PVC, booted, buckled, belted, hooded, gagged and tied up and that should they want proof, they simply had to look in my bivvy!

Another scenario for Bondophile at least, is where he gets captured by real fishermen, the kind who wear Helly Hansen gear for work and not fun (though personally I just don’t see how you can wear this kind of stuff and it NOT be fun!

The fishermen restrain him for some reason, but not totally and then in punishment for him trying to escape they wrap him in a fishing net and tie him up properly.

A lot of our scenarios have a similar theme and central to this is Helly Hansen Nusfjord gear, boots, hoods and bondage.

And so, as is the way of these things we ended up arranging a day out, I say a day as this particular event was tabled to last 24 hours. We’d both become quite enamoured with the idea of dressing up as fishermen and him being bound in all sorts of gear and then finally wrapped and bound in a fishing net.

Well lo and behold there are a couple based down in Hastings who offer just such a scenario, not cheap as they really are fishermen and have a bona fire fishing boat. But because the EU are idiots over British fishermen being able to fish in British waters there are many days where the boat is laid up and can’t work. 

These two enterprising bondage enthusiasts just happen to be co-owners of this boat and through Recon we got into contact.

They suggested an 8AM start which would allow me and them to keep Bondophile captive for 24 hours in a variety of positions - some gentle some very strenuous indeed. All of which suited me as he’d be the one getting all of the bondage - the lucky bugger.

Dave and Rob, the fishermen asked us to write an email to them explaining pretty much what we’d like to happen and that they would then ensure that most or maybe even all of it would happen but, and with this they sought our permission, with some of their own input and desires acted out.  They asked us not to collude too much or share with each other what we wanted so as to preserve an element of surprise.

What I asked for was that both of us turn up, dressed head to toe as fishermen, park the car, embark and off we set as if we are on a regular fishing trip.

After having set sail, with very little reason and virtually no discussion Bondophile would be taken downstairs for a pre-agreed bondage session. 

Two of us (the third being focussed on skippering the boat) would then tie Bondophile up, head to toe having gagged and blindfolded him, wrap him in a fishing net and tie him to the physical structure of the boat.

He would, as ever, try to escape and any sign of escape or the loosening of his bonds would simply result in me applying more and more until he lost the ability to move totally and became at one with the boat.

People who play the kind of games Bondophile and I do fall, in my experience, into two main categories. There are those who fantasise a lot and are VERY specific about what they want and leave no room for play or creativity. These people often don’t turn up for sessions and are, frankly, a bit of a drag. Then there are the other who will have some idea, often quite specific, about what they want but once the dressing up has taken place and the bondage starts, are happy with whatever happens thereafter.

Both Bondophile and I fit into the latter category and pretty much anything goes.

I collected Bondophile at home and we dispensed with any fun and games for the journey apart from being properly dressed for the 24 hours. I had my Helly Hansen Voss suit on inside out, two nylon Portwest boiler suits and the full bib ‘n’ braces and jacket Nusfjord ensemble in yellow. Plus of course waders.

Every inch the fisherman apart from the fact that my gear was impeccably clean.

I actually have no idea what Bondophile had on underneath his HH Nusfjord gear, but outwardly he and I were identically dressed.

The drive from Bondophile’s place in London was easy and very pleasant, with us discussing a lot of matters including a lot of discussion about the forthcoming 24 hours.  It’s fair to say, and to use a very common phrase, that when we arrived at the appointed place in Hastings, we were both gagging for it!

Dave and Rob met us at the car park and helped us carry our cases, we’d both packed for a combination of overnight stay and with extra rainwear just in case. I also had my iPad and so on as I intended to clear off a lot of work whilst sitting below desk in my finery watching over my captive.

Once on board we stashed our stuff below deck, which was surprisinginly spick and span and the four of us sat down and chatted over coffee.

Dave, who was very obviously in charge, explained how he and Rob saw the next 24 hours unfold and added that unless we actually wanted to, we would not set sail as that was a bit of a faff and also that for the bondage they had planned, both of them would be needed. This seemed totally reasonable to both of us and so we agreed, no need to sail as Bondophile’s experience of being tied up by fishermen on a boat would still come true even when docked!

And so, with very little delay we agreed the session would start and what the safe word/phrase would be. Once again we decided that as Bondophile would be gagged for a good portion of the time the old “humming the national anthem” system would work just fine.

Dave then announced that the session had started and, clearly in control (with my agreement) instructed Bondophile to undress down to total nakedness!

This was the first deviation from from we’d both expected and I was very interested to see what would happen next. What happened was a number of things.

First off Bondophile was told to go to the toilet and make every effort to “empty himself” as this would be his last opportunity to do so “unsupervised”.

He did and came back looking somewhat sheepish - not a surprise given he was a stark bollock naked Scotsman who’d just had a shit in the company of three fishermen decked out in yellow HH gear.

Rob summoned Bondophile over and knelt in front of him and deftly applied some very firm bondage to his genitals. With penis and testicles tightly tied Bondophile was then given a choice of “nappy or no nappy”. He, foolishly in my opinion chose no nappy and was then invited to get dressed exactly as he had been before. 

This included a skin tight rubber catsuit, his Helly Hansen Voss suit, waders and then his Helly Hansen Nusfjord kit.

With me watching and, with all parties agreement, taking photos and videos of the entire event, they set about “preparing him” as they put it.

With the hoods down on both Voss and Nusfjord jackets they first confirmed the safeword procedure and then set about him with an efficiency I admire. They’d clearly done this before and it was fascinating to watch.

First off they inserted foam rubber ear-plugs - the kind issued at noisy events such as Grands Prix and then gagged him. The gag was serious but not onerous as they first inserted a quite sizeable piece of sponge into his mouth and with the ability to speak removed they wrapped his face in cling film. Bondophile is heavily bearded and it was odd seeing his beard compressed to his face and I thought immediately that he was in for an itchy old time with that gag on.

Having wrapped his face they then wrapped the rest of his head leaving his nose very clearly exposed and thus leaving him the ability to breath freely and also hum the national anthem.

Shortly after that I saw the real reason for the cling film - duck tape! The got to work with his head with admirable effort and energy wrapping it around from the forehead down to the jaw - leaving the nose alone and then in an even more impressive show of intent that he would not escape - wrapped his head under his jaw and over the head. The result was a head with a nose and the rest being white duck tape. Very impressive indeed.

Next they set about his hands with the same meticulous attention to detail they had shown with his head. First they put a black rubber gloves and then they wrapped his hand totally in cling film - I could already see where this was going!

With even more attention to detail they wrapped his hand in duck tape - starting by binding his pinkie to the finger next - two wraps, then those two bound fingers to the next - two wraps and so on. By the time they got to his thumb they’d wrapped so much tape around his hand and wrist he looked like he was wearing a white boxing glove. They repeated the exercise with his other hand and stood back to admire their work and to let me take a couple of pictures.

A close up revealed just how aroused Bondophile was already and I rather enjoyed the fact that he’d be tied up even more for quite a long time and whilst he would experience some very serious sexual enjoyment as a result, he’d also be very frustrated as I’d instructed Dave and Rob that I wanted Bondophile tied with such severity he literally would not be able to move a muscle.

They then lead Bondophile over to a very stout part of the boat’s structure that went from floor to ceiling but had clearly been prepared for just such activity as it was heavily padded with a kind of pillow arrangement at the top that could be adjusted. I guessed this was to ensure their “guest” could be secured, head and all, without experiencing difficulty or too much discomfort.

Guiding Bondophile to reverse onto the pole they pulled his arms behind him and the pole and with the roping skills you’d expect from professional sailors/fishermen, tied his wrists very securely indeed. Even at this stage in the bondage it was my estimate that he’d not be able to escape.

And then came a simply glorious exercise in bondage application, one that was truly wonderful to observe - so wonderful that I was properly aroused just photographing and observing.

They started at the top and in turn tied him up and then tied him to the pole. No fewer that eight lengths of rope tied his torso up and to the pole and the same number for legs and lower body. By the time they’d finished there was actually very little HH Nusfjord to be seen and a heck of a lot of rope. And needless to say there was no way he was going anywhere.

In fact when they stopped, stood back and stated they were done I was perfectly happy but puzzled by two things. I’d asked that they wrap his bound body in a heavy fisherman’s net, which they had not and they had not secured his head to the pole.

Gently, as I didn’t want to offend, I enquired as to the absence of both and was told that in fact Bondophile had arranged a small surprise of his own and they would now be getting around to that. 

Sensing that this involved me in some way I tensed slightly and had my worst fears and wildest dreams at the same time confirmed by Dave who told me that Bondophile had requested I be tied up exactly as he had been.

Dave made it clear that they’d been paid separately by Bondophile for this service and they intended to carry it out whatever my wish.

Now of course, sitting there dressed from head to toe in HH Nusfjord with my own waders on, excited to the point of bursting at what I’d just witnessed and I am told the same fate is to befall me! Did I agree, of course I did, willingly.

I too was told to undress, make myself comfortable and come back. As I had my own genitals tied up I was offered a nappy and seeing the predicament they’d placed Bondophile in, opted to have one and experienced the exquisite humiliation of having an adult nappy fitted by Dave.

I dressed again and  they set about me in exactly the same way as they had Bondophile - with one very odd difference - I could see no pole to which I could be similarly tied.

Once they had me with earplugs and my head bound, with hands immobilised in the same way as Bondophile’s, I learned why there was no need for a second pole.

After having my wrists very securely tied behind my back I was guided gently forward and placed face to face with the tightly bound figure of Bondophile.

They set about tying me up from ankles to shoulders in a way that frankly I have never been tied before, strict does not begin to describe the quality of the bondage yet such was their skill it was wonderfully comfortable.

Then came what they both agreed later was not in either script but was their plan all along, they tied me, face to face, to Bondophile.

Ropes all up and down our combined bodies pulled together and so tightly we were two men become one.

Now, Bondophile is a gay man and I am not, but as I have often stated when I am tied up I care little for these labels and consider myself to be free.

I don’t mind saying that the feeling of being face to face, in my gear and trussed so tightly I could not move, was fantastic.

However, Dave and Rob had clearly not finished as they then manoeuvred our faces together ensuring noses didn’t clash and were free, and then used a simply HUGE amount of tape to bind our heads together and finally to the pole.

Now it sounds like a cliche but, just when I thought the bondage could not get any tighter, they started to wrap our combined bodies and pole in fishing net.

We stayed bound together for a long time and I am happy to admit that such was my level of arousal that the nappy was put to very good use, twice, in catching the results of my orgasm!

The feeling of disappointment at being untied later that evening was significant and I longed to be tied up again.

Dave and Rob then provided a very enjoyable evening meal at which they asked both Bondophile and I if they could tie us up again - but not to a script!

We both readily agreed but that is another story to be told another day.

Monday, 12 February 2018

The captive’s journey home.

The drive home.

After a very rewarding day, Bondophile never got free, it was time to pack up and get my captive back home.

We’d allowed plenty of time for both our session plus time for him to shower and dress more normally and in due course he presented himself, latex cat suit, SBR mac and riding boots, looking a little flushed but certainly none the worse for his adventure.

I’d loaded the car by this time but kept a few bits and pieces back for the journey home. Bondophile knew this would be the case and so I slipped the ball gag back in, simply blindfolded him with a strip of black latex and put the crash helmet back on. That was followed by two fresh pairs of black rubber gloves.

He was now unable to see or talk but could hear.

Maybe to his surprise I then told him to hold his hands behind his back and place his palms together.

I tied his gloved wrists tightly together using several lengths of rope, firstly to spread the load over his wrists so as not to cause circulation issues and secondly to secure him properly. Needless to say I cinched the rope properly.

Next came what I thought was a nice touch aimed at preventing those clever fingers from getting to the knots. I used superglue to bind the palms and fingers of the gloves together (I’d tested this a few days before to ensure that the gloves didn’t react to the glue) and then neatly taped his hands together with a decent amount of tape.

With him ready for the trip home I took him out to the car and instead of getting him into the back (I’d loaded all of the stuff there anyway), had him sit on the lip of the hatch back and with two long lengths of rope tied his ankles and knees.

I had, thoughtfully I thought, placed a pillow so his head had somewhere to rest and I eased him into position. Once safely installed in the car with head resting, I then added two more bondage devices in that, as you’d expect me to have done, I hogtied him. A rope through the wrist bondage and feet and then pulled tightly.

I am certain at that point he was comfy in his bondage and would start to struggle any minute.

However to frustrate this I then used some more rope to lash his feet and wrists to the luggage points in the boot of the car.

I then simply reminded him of the safety procedure and shut the boot and left him to it.

Needless to say the drive home was boring as I could not play music as I needed to be able to hear him.

All I actually heard was him trying to break free, which he didn’t partly I imagine as in the restricted area of the boot even with the relatively simple bondage I’d applied, he could not move much.

Five miles from his home I pulled over in a large supermarket car park, parked at the distant and quite end and let him free.

His last five miles home was lovely as he got to describe to me how he felt during captivity and we agreed that we would do something similar again.

I have in mind to take him fishing or camping where he can spend several hours lashed to my fishing bed!

Sunday, 11 February 2018

The challenge - how it unfolded.

To recap, I’d been challenged by a friend who is into rainwear as much as me, and based on an adventure I’d had involving many layers, to meet her at 6AM to walk our dogs - it’s a two hour walk, wearing nothing but some genital bondage, a pair of waders and my Cordings rubberised cotton riding mac.

The mac is navy blue with a bright yellow lining.

I agreed as I love rainwear, I love dog walking and I love walking out and about with fellow rainwear enthusiasts.

The evening before I got a text message from Beverley saying “I’ve changed my mind about tomorrow”.

I was very disappointed until moments later a second text came through that said “Wear rubber riding boots and not waders! xx See you at 6”

Now this changed the game slightly as the benefit of the waders would be very much to bridge the gap between top of boots and bottom of mac ensuring that no change of skin being exposed existed.

Sure, the mac is long enough to cover the top of the boots and does so perfectly well indoors and when standing stil or tied up, but when walking it flaps about, even with the leg straps done up tightly.

However, I am that perfect combination of brave, stupid and submissive that means when I am told to do something, I do it.

Bright and early, and by this I mean 4AM, I walked the dog in readiness for our 6AM walk - I am awake at that time and it gave me an opportunity to road test my outfit.

And so I tied my genitals up, donned long socks and then my glossy black rubber riding boots with the zip and the back, and topped it off with the blue rubberised Cordings mac.

All was good if somewhat chilly and I guess it was only the genital bondage that stopped my manhood retreating fully due to the cold. What I did experience was a very pleasant tightening in that area which made each step enjoyable in that the tip of my penis gently rubbed the inside of the mac.

At 6AM Dolly (my dog) and I met with Beverley and Ruby (her dog) and was delighted to see her in full HH Nusfjord with trousers tucked into glossy yellow Hunters and a wide black belt holding at all together. She looked stunning and even had the hood to the jacket up.

I was immediately relaxed by the fact that if we met other people whilst walking - which was a certainty, all eyes would be on her and not me.

We hugged and set off - my excitement a little more evident down below that was ideal and I had to walk carefully.

Five minutes into the walk, and in the woods already, Beverley stopped to unleash her dog and I did the same with mine but before walking off again, she said to me “Right, let’s check that everything is just so, please undo your mac!”

Startled but in no mind to object I unbelted, unbuckled and then unbuttoned my mac and it fell open to reveal me - nothing more apart from the genital bondage and naked as the day I was born all the way down to my rubber booted feet.

She proceeded to reach toward me and unbind my genitals with the comment that it was a good start but not quite good enough.

She then used the same set of laces I’d used but applied bondage more neatly, more strictly and a greatly deal more effectively. She tied my testicles and penis so tight that they were sticking out more, far more than before.

Now I have to say, whilst this was happening I had to exercise a huge amount of control to not make an idiot of myself.

Beverley then set about doing the mac up starting with the leg straps, then the buttons all the way to the neck with the collar up, then the wrist straps pulled tight and finally the belt.

With the belt she pulled it one hole tighter that usual which had the effect of pulling the material close to my genitals so they they were now touching all of the time as well as giving me and the mac a rather lovely cinched waist look.

One other effect of the combination of leg straps and tight belt is that the mac was now a good two inches shorter in overall length meaning that that was a clear inch of naked leg showing at all times. Needless to say the bottom of the mac no longer flapped because of the leg straps so there was no chance of an embarrassing disaster, but nonetheless I felt wildly exposed.

We walked and chatted all the way, met loads of people all of whom Beverley ensured we stopped and chatted with with me fighting my embarrassment and excitement all of the way.

The feel of the mac against my naked body, the feel of my tightly bound genitals rubbing incessantly against the inside of the mac and the vision and sound of my companion was simply blissful.

Towards the end of the walk, Beverley suggested that rather than just go home we should “finish matters properly”.

When I enquired what that meant she grinned and handed me a battery powered vibrator from her bag and told me what she expected.

She was clearly very ready as within minutes and with more noise than I was expecting, she grinned, thanked me and took the vibrator from me saying it was my turn.

I was more excited than I had been in a long time but terrified of the mess an ejaculation would make inside my £600 mac.

Beverley had thought of that and reached inside my mac and wrapped my genitals expertly in two unused dog poo bags.

With that she finished me off by hand and wrapped my bound and bagged - and very messy genitals  in another two bags and tied them off to prevent leakage.

With a final twist and to test me even further she then suggested that instead of walking back to the cars, we get a coffee at the Costa in West Malling first.

We walked the the Costa and I was sent in, whilst she waited outside with both dogs.

How I felt, standing in Costa, naked except for my tightly belted mac, riding boots and tied up genitals I Cann hardly describe but anyone who has been put into a situation like this will tell you, you are convinced that EVERYONE is looking at you and laughing at you.

I simply craved the whole coffee ordering to end as quickly as possible so I could get outside to sit with Beverley and the dogs.

And so, if one overcast Sunday morning you were at or passing the Costa in West Malling you saw a vision of loveliness in head to toe glossy yellow rainwear accompanied by two dogs and a strange looking chap - standing as I had no intention of sitting in my current state - that was us.

Saturday, 27 January 2018

A challenge.

I walk my dog every day, at least twice. It keeps us both fit and allows me virtually unlimited rainwear wearing opportunities.

Walking the dog this morning I came across a long time dog walking friend who through my love of rainwear also wears rainwear most days. She does not wear too much in the summer but winter days see her properly turned out. Her favourite is HH Nusfjord.

She is also someone who knows of my love of rainwear and everything that goes with it.

Walking along, her in HH Nusfjord and thus squeaking like mad and me in my Guy Cotten Nylepeche and thus crackling like mad, she offered a challenge.

In essence she has suggested that having read on my blog the layers adventure, she would like me to to be the reverse of the layers and wear the least amount decently possible.

We have a dog walk that is at least two hours which goes into some very remote woods and her request is that at 6am tomorrow morning we meet at the start point, she will be in HH yellows head to toe with her yellow Hunter glossies and I will be in my black waders and blue rubberised cotton Cordings mac. Nothing else apart from her suggestion that I tie my genitals up as “she is very interested to see what is looks and feels like”.

Her opinion is that the boots and mac will overlap and that will save any possible unpleasantness.

It’s going to be cold but I am going to give it a try.

Tuesday, 23 January 2018

Layers of rainwear.


One of the things that very many rainwear lovers agree on is layers.

Maybe it is because multiple layers of rainwear are the closest thing you’ll get to bondage without actually being tied up, maybe it is because the increasing sense of security as one dons layer after layer is very attractive, or maybe like me you quite enjoy the slightly ridiculous look once dressed in may layers.

Certainly, layers with bondage is just about as good as it gets.

I have a dog, a lovely dog and she helps keep me fit by needling two good walks a day.

She also helps me in my desire to wear rainwear as, whatever. The weather (and I mean whatever), I’ll walk the dog in some form of rainwear and wellies. In the summer it might just be a Stutterheim jacket and in the winter full enveloping HH or Guy Cotten fisherman quality stuff - covering everything.

One slight treat I have is that the morning walk for my dog is early, and I mean early! I get up at 3 and by 3:15 we are pounding the streets - me enjoying the rainwear and fresh air, her enjoying the fresh smells that have been deposited since last we walked that way - oh and chasing foxes.

The morning walk only lasts for about 45 minutes (our main walk is in the evening) but the treat is that it is early enough in the day that I know pretty well for sure that we will not meet anyone, and so my choice of rainwear can be a little more adventurous.

I typically try to vary what I wear, I do after all have no fewer than 28 jackets and macs, 8 pairs of wellies/waders/riding boots and ten different pairs of rubber/PVC trousers.

Today however I simply could not decide and so I went for layers.

Now anyone who has tried layers will know that the theory and the fact are two quite different matters. On paper you’d simply go for layer after layer, in reality three layers in and getting more rainwear on (and afterwards off is even harder) is bloody hard going.

That said, I was not in a hurry and so I set about layering. The key to successful layering is lightweight first and then build up, oh and not forgetting that after about three layers, getting your boots on is well nigh impossible.

I started with my Helly Hansen Voss in green. Turned inside out this jacket and trousers pairing are a good way to get the immediate feels of PVC as well as starting the processing of sweating early on. 

Do new all like to get a sweat up when layered in PVC? I know we have no choice as it is jolly hot stuff (in more ways that one) but I happen to love the feeling as well.

After this I donned two nylon boiler suits from Portwest. One is XL and the other XXL. XL is first as another tip to layering is that it helps if the stuff that comes later on in the layering is actually a larger size.

Then my very shiny green Ocean Rainwear trousers and these were tucked into my shiny green Hunter wellies. At this stage and one the boots are on, all other trousers have to work with sliding the booted foot through them!

Then came my Helly Hansen Nusfjord bright yellow, and very squeaky, bib and braces followed by my size medium Nusfjord jacket with the hood up, but not pulled tight.

By now I was sweating but still had some way to go as next came my Ilse Jacobsen black PVC mac. I like this as it is roomy but very lightweight and also protrudes from underneath the jackets I wear on top - you see I told you I like to look a bit silly.

Then another pair of bib and braces, this time the bright yellow Nylepeche Guy Cotten ones - and that was the trouser side of things concluded.

Over the top of this came the bright orange Guy Cotten Nylepeche jacket. At this stage it was getting hard to zip and popper stuff closed, but still I managed it and had the hood to that up but not pulled close (yet).

Then came the final piece of clothing and that was my XL Helly Hansen Nusfjord jacket in yellow - just about big enough to fit over everything else I had on.

I set about putting the hoods tight, one by one, HH medium first, GC Nylepeche second and finally the HH XL.

Before setting off downstairs to find the dog I added four more things.

  1. My wide black weightlifters belt. Normally this pulls close to as tight as it goes - having lost some weight recently, today I only just got the two side of the Velcro fastener to meet.
  2. Two pairs of black Tesco rubber gloves - first pair in medium and the second pair in large.
  3. A backpack.

A backpack you ask??  Yes, it has arm straps, chest straps and a strap around the stomach and so when you have it on and pull all of the straps tight, it’s another layer and one that feels very much like bondage.

The entire dressing sequence took 30 minutes of quite strenuous effort but the feeling meant it was worth every ounce of sweat.

At last it was time to fetch the dog and go out.

I live in a tiny road of twelve houses and it is rare that I see a neighbour at the best of times. Needless to say this was one of the few times I did, the chap who lives across the road from me and to whom I talk every now and then (mostly about F1) was coming out of the house and saw me, he came over!

To give him credit he didn’t flinch but asked if I was expecting rain! We chatted for a minute or two with me looking and feeling very silly indeed. He seemed to enjoy my discomfort but eventually he broke off and got into his car.

I walked the dog with my layers of yellow (trousers), black (Ilse Jacobsen coat), orange (GC Nylepeche jacket) and HH jacket all very clearly visible.

The dog as ever enjoy her walk and roughed up a couple of foxes, I enjoyed my walk so much I stayed in my gear (to be honest I always do) to do my crosswords and have my early morning coffee. The challenge today not being the crossword clues so much as it is jolly hard to sit down and then move when layered in the way I was.

Sunday, 21 January 2018

Hoisted onto my toes and vibrated.

 A very intense session with MAD at the Gatwick Dungeon where MAD dressed my in green PVC plus a selection of ladies underwear, wellingtons and then fitted my heavy leather straitjacket and heavy leather hood.

Gagged and blindfolded she then trussed me up and attached me to the hoist.

She then lifted me just enough that my toes were on the ground but not much else, applied the vibrator and let it do what it does best.

Spectacular in every way.

Nice hunter boots, latex skirt, bondage and electro.

Quite a complex scene all in all as I had a full latex dress on, boobs, a lovely PVC mac and a stunning pair of ladies Hunter boots.

The Hunter boots are very slim fitting and so you get the feeling of ankle bondage just by wearing them.

MAD fitted the full suite of electro before hooding, blindfolding and gagging me and then strapping me up fully.

Tied to a bed I simply had to enjoy the effect of the electro first, and then her attention second.