Nameless Knotting M/F

[StringTheorist]

Noname Knottings M/F

I woke up, tried to move my arms and legs, but I was still stretched out, fastened by straps to the corners of our bed. I smiled as I remembered the night.

When I woke up earlier, my husband was attaching the straps to my wrists, and commented “Phantom Man has arrived”. He was planning to have his way with me, after ensuring that I was satisfied. When it was his turn it was “Torture Time", often followed by “Slave Work” when he did some big chore around the house, harnessed up, then fastened down for my play as a reward.

I think he enjoyed Phantom Man as well as I did, first having his hands caress all over my extended body and limbs, then finger work on my nipples and clitoris, before moving in with his amazing tongue. When I was sated, he moved in with his machine, suitably covered, for our crescendo together.

So I wasn’t in danger, just in euphoria. I wondered why he had only loosened the straps and not releasing me completely. Perhaps he had another activity planned for later.

But my arms and legs were a little sore and I would have liked to work the stress out of them. So I lay, naked, eyes taped shut with duct tape, awaiting.

Eventually he entered the bedroom with a cheery “Good Morning.”

“You too. I presume that more will happen?” I was not gagged as he didn’t think that was safe when he left me alone.

“Yes, and I have a light breakfast for you.”

So I was unfastened from the straps to the corner of the bed, but the wrists and ankle cuffs remained comfortably and snugly on me.

He assisted me to the toilet, then into the shower for a wash. I liked that, especially the back scrub he likes to give me. Breakfast was an egg, bit of my homemade bread, coffee. And my regular pills. He fed me for I was fastened into the kitchen chair that I find very comfortable when tied. Except that I prefer his rope work to the straps. After breakfast he laid me over the breakfast table, wrists bound behind my back, ankles spread out tight against the table legs. I was expecting his manhood; instead some heavy thick metal object was pressed against my labia, suitably lubricated, and pushed deep into my body. Then he lubricated my other opening down there, and gently pushed a rounded point against my sphincter. It took time for his gentle shove to coax the item within my rectum.

“That’s your Pear of Anguish that you have mentioned a couple of times.”

I could feel him turning something and then noticed that the device was enlarging within my cavity.

I might explain what is a Pear of Anguish. It is a torture contraption developed probably Middle Ages, and consists of a number of petals and a screw mechanism. Generally shaped like a pear, inserted thick end in. Once inserted in an opening of the victim, the screw forced the petals outward, locking the device in. Further turning the screw would cause damage to the organ in which it was inserted. He kept asking me if I could feel pain when the 2 devices became adjacent deep within me; when I did, he backed off the screw a couple of turns, then had me stand up. When I was satisfied with the arrangement he attached some sort of harness about my waist, then ran a strap under my rear

Afterwards he led me out through the door to the double garage, which he has converted into a workshop, for he is very handy creating metal and wood furniture, devices, whatevers. In fact he has just completed some modifications to a camper vehicle owned by some good friends down the street. When they are away we look after their house, such as checking their sump pump, and they in turn check our house. Recently they bought a rather unusual camper, with a very high roof line allowing the husband to stand upright inside. Save he had to watch the interior light and the coming around the skylight.

My husband hadn’t told me much about the modifications, but as he usually enjoyed the projects he worked on, and as I had my knitting interests, it didn’t occur to me he was doing something different.

The van was backed against the garage doors, with its rear doors open. He helped me up some steps into the body, and set to work to strap me in. First, my wrists were attached to some more straps, and they were pulled somewhat tight with a series of clicks. My arms were more upright than spread 45 degrees. Then my legs were fastened and pulled out to a little wider angle than my arms. I was nearly hanging by my wrists. The straps were slightly elastic, giving a little as they were tightened

More straps attached to the contraption around my waist, and probably half my weight supported, forcing those interesting devices more firmly into my body. A couple of straps anchored myself in a fore and aft direction. He applied some cap over my head and under my chin before connecting the top of the cap to something above. My head wouldn’t move very much. The straps to my wrists were further tightened, same with my ankles and suddenly I found myself suspended by the array of slightly elastic straps.

Some clips were fastened to my nipples; we had used them enough they were only discomforting, not painful. Save strings were fastened to the clips, pulled forward, and some sort of weights applied so that my breasts were pulled out.

My husband started the van and moved it gently forward a few feet, allowing him to close the back doors and our garage door. When he came into the van through the side door, he ensured that all of the curtains were closed and clipped. He checked my straps, asking if there were any painful parts. Thanks to his setup, I was satisfied.

Remember, I wasn’t gagged, though I did have some ear plugs in.Still blindfolded.

Returning to the driver’s seat, he put the vehicle into gear and moved down the driveway, going over the slight curb.

The things inside me moved up and down.

WOW.

I came almost instantly. What an incredible feeling to have something in my body cavities move. I had experienced vibrators inserted before, but the objects were an earthquake scale as opposed to just a mosquito buzzing.

As the van turned I shifted against my straps, fortunately comfortable thanks to my loving husband.

I came 4 times before we got outside the city limits; he found some rough road and I was shaken, rattled and rolled. The strings on my nipple clamps pulled in seemingly random pattern as the van pitched, turned, accelerated, braked and bounced.

My breakfast stayed with me no problem, but my whole body was subject to sudden tugs, to which the objects within me reacted, pleasurably.

Eventually we returned home, backed up to the garage door, and the van doors opened. As he freed my body, he commented, “Happy Birthday, Dear.”

“Oh my, he’s right,” I thought, “I’ll really have to find a way to ‘Torture’ my Dearest on his birthday.”

[Ovi1]

Amazing story, quite a different writing style from what I'm used to around here. And a quite exciting one at that!

[StringTheorist]

Amazing story, quite a different writing style from what I'm used to around here. And a quite exciting one at that!

Thank you. My first post, and you're my first responder.

I liked your short story with the peachy ending. Lots of things to imagine.

[Ovi1]

Well, since you're new the forum, or at least just started writing, do introduce yourself whenever you're ready https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=70&t=9010