Four-Day Fuckdoll [F][MF][nc][self-bondage][captive][forced orgasm]

Today—being the kinky, little five-foot slut that I am—I decided to indulge in a little self-bondage. And, by a little, I mean a lot. I slipped a vibrating, inflatable buttplug into my asshole and gave it as many pumps as my poor butt could handle, and then an extra for good measure. Then, I slid my favorite rabbit vibrator into my already-slick pussy. The vibrations alone sent me into intense waves of pleasure, but what was really making me wet as a puddle was knowing all that I still had left to go.

I shimmied into a skintight leather catsuit—with convenient zippers to expose both my boobs and from my clitoris to my asscrack—put earbuds into my ears (for my favorite naughty [r/gonewildaudio](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildaudio/) playlist), then stretched an unforgiving hood over my head. I was now blind and would have to secure the rest by feel.

I shoved a four-inch dildo gag down my throat and locked the latch behind my head. I cinched a corset tight around my torso and locked it, too. I wanted to be constricted and filled in every way I could imagine. I wanted no escape until the right time came.

I strapped my legs and torso tight with a series of leather belts, each one padlocked. Then, I locked my feet into ballet boots and my neck into a stiff posture collar. I could scarcely move, yet I was shaking like bambi. I wanted to be strapped and completely, inescapably immobile before my first climax came, and I could feel it coming very soon.

Finally, I clamped the nipple clamps (attached to my collar) onto my pierced nipples and bound my arms back into an armbinder, locked with a timer lock I had set for two hours. And, in case I somehow managed to wriggle free, I kept the keys to all my padlocks locked away in a lockbox, also secured with a timer. A way out would have just spoiled all my fun.

My self-made prison of pleasure complete, I slumped forward onto my stomach in bed. Fully filled. Fully bound. I was able to fully concentrate on all the sensations. And, my, what sensations I felt!

My pussy and asshole throbbed and pulsed and ached with all the vibrations. Clamps pinched my sore nipples. Moans from the playlist filled my ears as my gag filled my throat. I lay in a puddle of my own grool and drool.

I loved every second of it.

And I loved it even more as I reached my first climax. A fire spread from all my pleasure zones at once, and I convulsed in euphoria. I moaned and screamed and gagged on that plastic cock in my throat like a bitch in heat.

Thank fuck my roommate wasn’t home to hear any of that. And he wouldn’t be for the next several hours.

Through several orgasms and constant, unending stimulation, I began to lose track of time. I was in this semi-conscious, bondage-induced haze of pleasure.

After what felt like a hazy, blissful eternity, a sharp noise snapped my back to reality. My alarm. As much as I felt sad to have come to an end of my blissful bondage session, every ounce of my body was sore and tired. Two guys named Ben and Jerry and an early bedtime sounded like the perfect way to round out my evening.

I wriggled my wrists, but nothing happened.

I wriggled them again.

Again, nothing.

Did I mis-set my alarm? Maybe the timer would unlock my armbinder any minute now.

My vibrators buzzed on, and every so often I wriggled my wrists again. Each time I tried, I grew a little less patient.

This thing should really be done by now. I felter sore-er and more orgasmed out than from any two-hour session I had had before. Things weren’t adding up.

I don’t know how long passed like that—me fighting off orgasms, fighting off re-entering that haze, wriggling my wrists to no avail—before I heard the most hopeful sound I had ever heard: the apartment door closing.

Then, footsteps entering the hall.

Robert was home. Salvation.

I scarcely considered being embarassed at the state he’d see me in—bound, helpless, and gushing grool and drool. I was just thanking my lucky stars I hadn’t gotten that studio apartment I had liked, that I even had a roommate to rescue me, embarassing as it might be.

I attempted to scream, to call out to him, but the gag had other ideas. While I could make some bit of volume, not an iota of it was intelligle, least of all through a thick bedroom door and sound-proofed bedroom walls.

His footsteps passed. Past my door and on towards his.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

I struggled against my bindings with a renewed energy. There was no way I was gonna die tied in leather for the cops to find and have to explain to my parents. I was only 23, for god’s sake, barely out of uni. I had a whole life to live that involved not dying slowly of thirst in my own bed in my own apartment, just meters from safety.

But the locks didn’t care. Struggle as I might, I had become too good at my weekly bondage ritual. Damn several-hours-ago-me and her insatiable appetite to be tied up like a whore. And especially damn her ability to make it happen.

As time passed, I struggled less, and I slowly gave up hope. I began to wonder if my parents would even come looking for me, if they even would know where to come looking for me. I couldn’t recall ever sending them the new address, especially not in the hazy state I found myself re-entering.

The hazy state where the vibrations in my cunt and ass and the pinch on my tits and the gag in my throat were the only things that mattered. Countless orgasms passed until I was in a near-constant state of semi-climax. My mind lost in a fog of estrogen and dopamine. I no longer knew if it was day or night, if I had slept or not.

Suddenly, a knock.

And then another.

“Julia, are you in there?”

It was Robert.

“Julia, are you in there?” he repeated. “I saw your car out front, but I haven’t seen or heard from you since yesterday.”

I tried to speak, but forgot I still had a plastic cock in my throat. I settled for screaming.

The door to my bedroom creaked open, and I felt him enter the room. The air changed. Suddenly, I felt all the embarassment flood into my cheeks. I couldn’t see him, but I could easily imagine the look of horror on his face. Imagine walking in on your trapped little slut of a roommate bound and blinded in all the leather and locks she could afford, shaking and quivering and dripping away still. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to look him in the eye again after today.

His footsteps stopped short of my bed.

He waited for a long moment, said nothing. I heard only his heavy breath. All the while, I still quivered and gagged and moaned. And he got to watch it all.

I heard the unmistakable sound of a belt unbuckling. Or was it? I wasn’t sure; my brain was too tired and too foggy and the vibrator batteries had somehow still not run out.

I heard the even more unmistakable sound of a zipper unzipping. A footstep towards my bed.

“Well, it seems little miss Julia has gotten herself into quite the pickle.” Robert’s voice was different. No more care or concern or warmth to it. “Either that, or maybe she wanted me to find her like this…”

Oh no. That didn’t sound like help.

A warm, strong hand landed on my butt. It squeezed. I let out a little whimper.

It grabbed the crotch zipper in my catsuit and pulled down, exposing my ass and pussy.

“Well, aren’t you quite the slut?” Robert said. “I think you used these toys to get yourself good and wet for me, haven’t you?”

I tried to say—no, scream—”No,” but only gagged and choked.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Then, the mattress shifted. As if a large bear of a man had just gotten on. Gotten on and mounted my exposed rear.

I tried to scream, but then I felt my rabbit vibe pulled from my vagina. The relief was spoiled when I felt something warm and oh-so-firm press in to replace it.

I tried to plead, but only gagged sputters came out.

His cock slid in. I was wet as the fucking Pacific.

“Fuck, little miss slut Julia really *does* want this,” he said, and he began to slide in and out.

I moaned. A betraying moan. I couldn’t help it. His cock was so massive, and I couldn’t take it as he thrust it in and out of my sloppy, wet cunt. His balls slapped against my clit.

“And you’re so tight, too. Remind me to use the inflatable plugs you got yourself into—or, rather, got into yourself—more often.” He thrusted faster and harder. His cock got warmer and firmer. It was like a titanium rod wrecking my guts. Rearranging all my insides.

I both hated it and loved it.

Soon, Robert’s breath quickened and he began to fuck me even harder and faster than before, slamming into my cervix. Thrust after thrust. It hurt so good.

I felt his balls tighten up, his body heat hot on my back. He must’ve been close to cumming. And so was I. I hated it, but fuck if it wasn’t the most intense thing I’d ever felt.

He slammed deep into my cunt one last time, and his chest fell onto my bound arms behind me. His cock pulsed hard and spurted a firehose of hot sperm straight into my womb.

That was all little miss slut Julia needed, apparently, as that skyrocketed me over the edge into climax. Sparks coursed my entire nervous system, and I spasmed and moaned and screamed hard. My hungry cunt pulsed and milked his invading cock for all the sperm he had until he had no more to give.

A hot minute later, Robert removed his cock and dismounted me, and I soon heard the sound of a zipper zipping back up and a buckle being rebuckled.

My mind cleared. I had just been fucked—no, raped—by my roommate. And I—being the kinky, little five-foot slut that I am—*loved* it. Never in all my bondage rituals had I ever felt so out-of-control as I had felt just now.

But then I felt a wet, sticky rabbit vibrator shoved right back into my pussy.

That couldn’t have been a good sign.

My catsuit’s crotch zipper zipped right back up again. Then, I felt that same warm, strong hand from earlier grab my bound ankles. And pulled them up, and I felt the telltale sensation of a knot being tied. My ankles were now fastened tightly to my armbinder. Turns out, things very much could get worse than they had been earlier, as I was now stuffed with cum and hogtied.

Finally, Robert spoke, “Seems your little timer lock failed you here, missy. But I don’t mind; I like you better this way.” Then, his footsteps went out my bedroom door, and the door creaked shut behind them.

I was well and truly—and literally—fucked.

A while longer passed after I resuccumbed to that haze where the passage of time seems a far and distant concept. The mild dehydration by now probably wasn’t helping in that regard. My lips were parched and my mind swirling, but yet my pussy lips remained wet as ever. Drying them up would be like mopping up the Amazon with an off-brand paper towel. Trapped and dehydrated and violated as I was, I was also the most aroused I had ever been in my life, and my sopping cunt bore that story.

I was stirred from my haze my the sound of the door and footsteps again. Robert.

“Now, you’re probably pretty thirsty and hungry by now, and you probably really need to take a piss and maybe a shit, so I’m gonna make things simple. If you want any of that, you gotta promise not to scream and not to do anything else you think I might not take kindly to. Nod if you agree.”

I nodded, hard as it was to in my collar.

“That’s a good girl,” he said. “Truth be told, you’d probably love what I’m about to do to you, even without the promise of food and water. Judging from that little gag you got on there for me, that is.”

His footsteps came right to the foot of the bed, where my head lay. The floorboards creaked, and the fabric of his clothes rustled. I felt hot breath on my hooded face.

“You know, the timer lock you put on your little lockbox didn’t fail.” His hand reached around my head and fiddled with the lock on my gag until it sprang loose. My mouth and throat were free. Free and incredibly sore.

But I could breathe easily again. I could swallow my spit again, rather than drooling. I didn’t want to imagine how many liters of saliva I’d drooled.

No sooner was my throat freed than I felt that hot titanium rod of his entering, simultaneously bigger, longer, and harder than the dildo gag it was replacing. And it was thrusting. Thrusting *hard*. Robert was unrelenting his fucking my throat; he was giving it the same treatment he had given my pussy.

And little miss slut Julia loved it. Violated as my throat was, my pussy poured. There was no way I was going to last long at all like this. Not with a hot cock fucking my throat and the vibrators humming away down there, the rest of me helpless as ever. My body loved knowing I was his personal fuckdoll, whether my mind liked it or not.

I moaned hard on his cock and came. My pussy and ass and tits were on fire. My throat clamped down on his cock, and that must have sent him into climax, too, as, next thing I knew, hot spurts of cum were shooting down my throat. I didn’t even need to swallow with how deep he was and how hard he came; his sperm shot straight into my stomach.

A hazy, blissful moment later, Robert removed his cock from my throat, and I heard his pants fasten.

“Oh, and I got you a few other presents, too. Rewards for a job well done.”

I heard a bit of crinkling, and then I felt a significant something being placed over my ears. Headphones. As soon as they were on all the way, the world went completely silent. Noise-cancelling headphones. I was now both blind and deaf. I doubt even Helen Keller had ever found herself in quite my situation.

Then, I felt something touch my lips. A straw!

I slurped and drank all the water I could until I felt ready to burst. After the water, he fed me some food. It could have been stagnant pond water and surströmming and I would’ve drunk and eaten it all.

Soon after I finished the food and water, two strong arms snaked under my torso and heaved me onto an even stronger shoulder, to be taken to the bathroom to relieve myself. I really was trapped. He had a plan for everything, and he could keep me like this for years. So long as he gave me food and water and let me go to the bathroom, there was nothing stopping him from keeping me like this. And why shouldn’t he? He’d already raped me twice, kept me captive for at least a day. If he let me go, I’d run to the cops, and he’d be behind bars. If he kept me like this—blind, deaf, and filled with cum—he’d live a lifetime a free man. A free man with a warm little miss slut Julia to cum in twice a day.

After that, only Robert could tell how much time passed. It felt like weeks, but the number of loads I received suggested probably only a few days. I also found out that the one hole he had left untouched—my asshole—was just as much in the rotation of holes to fuck and fill with cum as were my throat and pussy. In fact, he rotated through them like clockwork: pussy, throat, ass, pussy, throat, ass, … and so on ad infinitum.

Time passed in a delirious, semi-orgasmic haze only broken by fucks, sucks, food, and toilet. The only thing I saw was black. The only thing I heard was that damned playlist. The only things I felt were the constant vibes, Robert’s hands on me, his dick in me, and his cum further in me. But, god, if my soaked pussy didn’t love every moment of it. My body eagerly lapped up every spurt of cum Robert would grace me with. His cum was the spice melange to me; I needed it to flow.

But, one day—and I certainly didn’t know which day—I felt the ever so slightest *click*. I felt no hands on me, however. No hefty presence in the room. Just that click so soft and faint I thought I must’ve been delirious. I was pretty coked up on bondage and cum, after all…

But then I felt my armbinder loosen. Just a tiny bit, but enough that I didn’t immediately disregard it as delirium.

I wiggled my arms a bit, unsure. They moved. Just a bit more than expected. I wiggled more. They moved more. Soon, I had them wiggled entirely out of the armbinder. I was free.

Or almost. I still had all these other padlocks to contend with. And I was still completely blind and deaf until I got myself unbound. And, worse, I had no clue where or when Robert was. If this was to be my window of opportunity, I had to work fast.

I shimmied to the edge of my bed, where I kept my lockbox and felt for the lock. Padlocked. Of course.

For the first time in however many days, I was glad for at least one thing past me had done right: a spare lockbox.

It took me several minutes, but I shimmied off the bed and onto the floor, swung my bound legs under the bed to fish for my spare lockbox, and reel it back in. It still had the timer lock on, meaning Robert never found it to replace the lock.

I opened it up and spent the next minute hurriedly trying keys in different locks until I finally got everything unlocked and myself unbound. I hadn’t been sure if I’d ever make it out of my devious contraption ever again. Someone really ought to market that whole getup as “kinky slut trap”. Like gluepaper for bugs, but for kinky, little five-foot sluts named Julia instead.

I lay down naked on the floor for a minute, sore and exhausted, letting my eyes adjust to the intense brightness of standard indoor lighting. I looked at the timer lock and saw it displayed a simple “99”. God-fucking-damnit. I had somehow set it to the max time of 99 hours. I had been bound and fucked and gone through all of that for four whole days. I’d been a four-day fuckdoll. I knew I couldn’t let it be one day longer.

I stood up and went to my dresser to get dressed and get out of there. I scarcely noticed the cum dripping out my pussy and ass and running down my legs.

When I opened it, however, it was bare. None of my regular clothes were to be found. I opened the other drawers, and, again, nothing. Nothing except terrifying-and-tantalizing—like I said, kinky slut trap—new bondage gear Robert seemed to have gotten.

Even if my pussy was still wet from everything, my heart was racing. What all had Robert done while I was locked up?

I searched for my phone to call 911, but it, too, was gone. He must’ve been playing it to the headphone from another room. Panic really began to set in. I didn’t care if I had to run out naked with cum visibly running down my legs, so long as I got out.

But my bedroom door wouldn’t budge. Locked. From the outside. It had never even had a lock before. Fuck.

I went to the window, but that had iron bars that wouldn’t budge, and the window was blacked out. No hope there.

A car door shut outside.

Shit. Please don’t be Robert.

Footsteps. Coming closer. Coming *here*.

I looked back at all the gear. I only had one plan I could do. I could only hope Robert would not come into my room first thing upon entering. I couldn’t imagine Robert would take kindly to finding me like this.

One by one—and as fast as I could—I shoved back in my plug and vibrator, slipped back into my catsuit, pulled on the hood, locked on the collar and corset, clamped up my very sore tits, locked my gag back in place, locked back on my ballet boots and belts, put the headphones back on, and, finally, slipped my arms back into place in the armbinder and cinched the hogtie back into what felt like how Robert had done it. Only thing different was I left the timer lock just barely unlocked.

And there I lay, bound, blind, and deaf again. By the time I felt the air in the room change, I could already feel probably the millionth cursed orgasm building up in me again. As the plug stretched and vibrated my poor asshole, the vibrator pulsed and teased my sopping pussy, the plastic cock choked and gagged me like a bitch, and the clamps pinched down on my nipples, I waited.

Until I felt a hand fiddling around my wrists. Near the timer lock. My wrists’ binding loosened for a moment, then a hand held my wrists tight as some more fiddling happened. Then, the hand let go, and my armbinder was tight again. The lock was changed. Fuck.

I felt no more hands after that. I was left to stew and finish out my orgasm and my next orgasm and the one after and the one after… Until whenever he decided to grace me with his cock again. This was my life now.

I was now his forever fuckdoll.

My cunt moistened at the thought.

This is what little miss slut Julia wanted.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/iot0w8/fourday_fuckdoll_fmfncselfbondagecaptiveforced