Science and Magic [edging] [toys] [self bondage gone wrong] [F] [FF] [fiction]

this is potentially subject to sequels if I’m inspired but acts as a stand alone.

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“Magical evolution theory is a cutthroat field”, you’d say to excuse yourself if anyone caught you. It was competitive, new and exciting.

The theory went like this: magic was documented, in very small populations of humans capable of drawing it into usable form from the surrounding environment. Extremely rare, rooted in genetics, the vast majority of humans on this Earth would never develop it, including yourself. The question is, do all humans have the capability and merely lack some final push? If so, what is it? Everyone wanted the answer to be yes excepting for the people who already wielded it. But despite the fact that magic wielders ruled society for most of history, democracy was what ruled now. And the other 99% of people voted that it would be really cool to learn how to levitate. And, advancement of humanity and somesuch.

You had a pet theory. Maybe one that was a little tainted in motivation. One of the few studies done on magical potential of wielders showed that bodily stresses cause magical gains, much like building muscle. The stressors ranged from regular exercise keeping a person’s magic reserves high well into senior years, to rare life or death situations where the panic and stress resulted in a permanent bump of strength. Obviously, none of these were simple enough to unlock magic in mundane folk, because it would have been recorded by now. But conspicuously, no one ever released studies on sexual stressors.

So. You were a scientific person, with a scientific theory. You started with a wedge shaped seat, the tip narrow enough to dig into the sitter’s crotch but rounded well enough as well as coated with silicone such that it didn’t actually hurt to sit on. The silicone also served the purpose of hiding vibrators along its length. The next step was straps along the sides to properly fasten one’s legs in the optimum position.

The thing was, simply having a good time wouldn’t be enough, again, people had been having all sorts of sex for all of history- if a good fucking could give you magic, we’d know about it by now. But no one had really tested the limits. What if you came over and over? What if you didn’t come at all? And what if it lasted an hour, or several? A whole day? The questions were exciting- in multiple ways.

So you hooked the vibrators up to a computer system, and you added sensors to wristbands and a choker as well as in the silicone to monitor bodily vitals. Then, you connected everything to a computer with the ability to take the sensor’s information and respond to it via the vibrators.

Then, since you already had the wristband and choker, well, no one would blame you being inspired. After all, you didn’t want to interfere with the experiment by bailing too early – the whole point was to put yourself under duress! So you made cuffs that were suspended by a pole raised above the contraption, and a wide, heavy collar that forced the wearer’s head to be level.

You also weren’t an idiot, there were reasons this hadn’t been done yet. You decided to start with something not too strained- a single hour, on a program that would stop you from reaching climax. It would be a good, and frankly fulfilling experiment. Not breaking any records, but you were too embarrassed to involve anyone, and working alone meant you needed to keep yourself safe. If it worked out, well, maybe you could go for longer next time.

Still, an hour of tension would probably make you thirsty, so you designed a contraption to let you sip water. For safety though, it would have to be attached to your face while also not allowing you to accidentally drown yourself. The final design ended up being a soft, squishable gag that produced water when you bit down hard, but would expand when you weren’t biting down in order to keep itself secure.

You also engineered a basic failsafe- the straps that would keep you secured required power to close, not power to open. This meant that in the event of an outage, they would release you. You also set the power to the entire thing onto a timer. It was perfect.

You found yourself a day off, and prepared. The sensors were set to log to a computer file along with a magical power sensor set on the collar right at the center of your throat. You reviewed the program – it would read your biometrics in real time and alternate between extended periods of almost-high-enough stimulation to rising and dropping patterns in order to keep you guessing. Earlier in the day you set up an email to a coworker you weren’t too familiar with, but she had always been helpful and quick to answer emails. In an hour and twenty minutes the email would send asking her to pick something up from your study – your keys were helpfully under the outside mat. That was your hail mary safety measure- if something, somehow went horribly wrong, you would be rescued. She would probably even keep things on the down-low, since you did after all have a legitimate basis for research.

Then, it was time. You left your clothes in your bedroom and descended into your study. In preparation, just for fun, you took out your favourite nipple clamps. They had a small vibrational component that activated on movement, and were just tight enough that they’d never come off but not so tight as to cut off circulation.

First, you only attached the clamps and sat on the seat. Your body was already anticipating the journey ahead, as the silicone immediately became slicked up with fluid. You gently grinded against it, shivering as the movement triggered your clamps to send pleasant vibrations through your breasts. Slowly, you touched yourself, rocking back and forth. You made sure not to come, but if you were going to do this you deserved to really be in the mood.

Specifically needed to save your climax for after the experiment did something. Everything was hotter, more sensitive, more everything. You squeezed your legs together, rubbing fluid onto your thighs and down the full length of the seat so that the wedge went even deeper. You let yourself whine and moan to nobody as you controlled yourself.

Finally, when you knew that you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself back from going for the release, you knew it was time. Sweaty and dripping as it was already, you started with strapping your lower body until it was forced flush against the seat. You gave yourself a wiggle, and then decided it should be more. Carefully, you loosened the straps over your thighs and reached behind yourself and eased a finger into the tip of your asshole. It didn’t take long to stretch, and only a little longer to accommodate the plug you’d brought, just in case. It filled you pleasantly, and you knew you’d made the right decision when you tightened the straps again- the shape of the seat pushed against the handle of the plug, creating a gentle thrum of movement when you shifted.

Then, you applied the drinking gag. It’s expansion still took you a bit by surprise, filling your jaws as wide as possible. Still, you gave it an experimental jaw clench. The material condensed down like memory foam as water gently trickled down your throat and you swallowed without choking. That was good, because it gave absolutely no room for any other mouth movement. No matter how you worked your jaw, it filled you completely, conveniently absorbing almost all sound as well – you could make a stifled hum, and that was about it.

Next was your good pair of noise cancelling headphones, set to loop gentle music. It was stupid, but you had run the device empty before and knew that half an hour in, the sounds of the vibrators would drive you up the wall. Once they were on it was like nothing was making a sound at all.

You took a deep breath, squeezing your legs together and wishing you could have had a quick orgasm anyways, damn the scientific integrity. It was almost done. You reached for the power timer and turned it to 60 minutes exactly. Then you fastened a blindfold over your eyes – that had no purpose, you just knew it would be more exciting this way. Cut off from voice, sound, and sight, you reached carefully for the cuffs that you knew dangled above you. They were easy to fasten one handed, by design. You fastened one first, then paused for a moment.

This was real. You were going to do this. Your core pulsed with need, begging you already to do something. Then you did, snapping the other one on. As the final connection was made, the device turned to life.

Your heart leaped into your throat at the first surge of vibrations. You jerked back at the strength, only for the nipple clamps to vibrate sharply in response. The anal plug’s positioning was terrible! Right against the seat like this, the vibrations just travelled through it, penetrating much deeper into you than you expected.

Far, far too soon it sent you nearly to the edge. The first time it eased off, it was honestly appreciated. The plug was too much, nearly smarting. You heaved a relieved breath as it eased off, only to gasp into your gag as the vibrations picked up. You leaned forward, hoping to take the pressure off the plug, but you couldn’t – you secured yourself a little too tight. As your climax approached again, you wiggled desperately to dislodge it, but that only made the vibrations vary, taking your breath away from you.

The intensity eased off again, but only slightly. You thought you made a mistake in the programming – you were going to come! You wiggled again at the too-intense sensations, a line of drool smearing slowly down your chin. But the program was well designed. You had played with edging before, obviously, or this wouldn’t have appealed to you. But what you had done before was play, a gentle climb to a gentle slide. This was being on the edge – the edge of climax, the edge of pain and pleasure from pure stimulation.

You had never experienced anything so intense, You arched your back. You tried to scream. You thrashed in your seat, pulling fruitlessly at your cuffs and straps. Tears of pure frustration burst down your cheeks, soaking your blindfold. There was no escape.

How long had it been?

How long was still left?

Could you even make it?

Eventually, the intensity eased. You were glad, you might not be able to do this again, knowing how intense it was. But your gladness came too early. It slowed to a gentle low setting, but didn’t stop. You shook your head, wishing for a moment that you hadn’t been foolish enough to put the blindfold on – then you’d have at least been able to check the timer, even if you couldn’t reach it.

Slowly, so slow you barely noticed it, the vibrations started racking up again. It was just a rise-drop cycle! You groaned, unable to stop yourself from pushing both into and against the seat. You couldn’t take it again. But you had to. And you did – the seat had you gasping against a near-certain orgasm, until it didn’t. This time, it abruptly dropped off to a bare trickle, and you screamed, involuntary and silent. Your fists clenched in their bonds as you instinctively tried to chase the dropping sensations, pushing shamelessly into the seat wedge as hard as you could.

And then, just as your interest died down, it started anew. You soon lost track of it, the cycles combined with the sensory deprivation robbed you of any consideration besides the machine and how you needed to get off on it and out of it, in that order. Your jaw clenched instinctively, releasing the occasional sip of fresh, cold water as the only other sensation. You could no longer even think about how you would edit the program to be perhaps half as ruthless next time, even if it did invalidate your research.

It was like time didn’t exist for a moment as your mind practically slipped away from you, replaced by pure need. Then, you felt an unexpected pair of hands lift the headphones off your head, and slide the blindfold off your face.

It was your coworker. No wonder it felt like an eternity- the worst must have happened, and now you were being rescued! You didn’t have any more room to blush than you already were, but mortification struck you anyways as the machine continued to edge you infront of your acquaintance, who simply crossed her arms for a moment.

“You know, I really don’t feel like we know each other well enough for this,” She wrinkled her nose a bit as she talked, and somehow you found your cheeks really could burn a little more. You tried to say something, instinctively wanting to defend yourself, but nothing more than a quiet grunt passed your lips. Instead, you gestured your head in the direction of the timer.

Instead of understanding, she only nodded. “I saw that, don’t worry. I guessed that I was your safety net, right?” You nodded frantically. “Why, though? Too embarrassed to ask your boyfriend?”

You didn’t have a boyfriend, and your brain was so addled with need that you simply answered the question with a shaking head, hoping that answering quickly would get her to the point. You gestured to the computer, where the easy cancel button was, in a big, bold popup overtop of your research document and log files.

She stepped over to the computer just as the program started a hold-high sequence. You blanked a moment, squeezing tears our of your eyes as you tried not to look too desparate – but you couldn’t, because you were too desperate. The seat was long since soaked, and saliva coated your chin and neck as sweat beaded down your back. Then, you realized your coworker wasn’t releasing you yet- she was reading your research. You tried to yell and scream but it was as effective as it ever was. She couldn’t even hear you from a mere half a room away.

After another long, much too long moment spent unbelievably close to coming, she straightened up. “You’re a genius,” She said, out of the blue. “I think… I think this is sound. This is the one hour sample sequence, right?” She glanced back at you, a flash of excitement in her eyes. You nodded, tearing up again as the vibration dropped, your core on fire.

“One hour isn’t long enough, you know.” You nodded again, wiggling against the bonds despite yourself. Why hasn’t she at least taken your gag out? “It was probably an hour because you were by yourself and didn’t want to overdo your limits, right?” Another nod, shakier this time as the rise-fall cycle played with your body. Your acquaintance walked towards you again, picking up the timer. Finally! Oh god you were ready to end this.

“Well, you nearly made the hour – if I was 10 minutes later the experiment would be over.” The statement shocked you into freezing for a moment, though it did nothing to stop the sensations. “From your notes, it seems I was supposed to get the email 20 minutes after the hour if you weren’t free, instead of 40 minutes in. You must have lost track of time and started the experiment too late, I’m guessing.”

That was it! Your preparations – you hadn’t set an alarm or anything, allowing yourself to really get into the mood, ironically the mood that you couldn’t get yourself out of.

She paused. With a lower voice, she supposed, “You wouldn’t have told anyone about this research either.” You nod furiously, unable to think of almost anything besides her being this close to freeing you.

“I think,” She says again, “That we should see where this goes. Two more hours, maybe three, and we see if you’re onto something. You’ve already found your volunteer and done all this work after all.” At this, she grinned for the first time as your stomach dropped. “You can handle it, right?”

You shook your head furious, desperately attempting to plead. “Oh, don’t be modest. You’re clearly enjoying yourself. And besides, you couldn’t have assumed you could subject me to this without any sort of compensation.”

You scream into your gag even though its futile as she cranks the timer, tripling your sentence in one movement. “Getting to author the paper that proves magic really can evolve in normal humans is a pretty generous payment, but I’ll take it.” Gently, she pats your shoulder. “I’m rooting for you, okay? Now let’s get you comfortable again. I’m going to pop off back to my place for my camera and tripod – you really should have been recording video for later study.”

Then, she carefully replaced your headphones, and replaced your blindfold. Blinded and deafened again, you struggled anew. The program had never stopped, but at the knowledge of your predicament it all felt even more intense. You yanked and pulled and thrashed at your bonds, screaming inaudible pleas of mercy. You didn’t even know if she was still in the room or had already left.

The vibrations sent you to the edge but not quite over it. Again. Again and again. You had no idea when she’d be back, if she was already recording you, or when the timer would finally grant you freedom. You only knew that you were about to come, in just a moment. Again and again.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/kq0omx/science_and_magic_edging_toys_self_bondage_gone