Candy’s Fetish Confessions
The week had been a nightmare! I had witness depositions going south, partners upset at my daily updates on the progress of my caseload for the firm and next week threatened to be more of the same. As for my personal problems, I’d manage to lose my cell phone and the new boyfriend I had gone out with a several times over the past few months was repeatedly getting placed on the back-burner... which had spurred an argument or two. We were supposed to go out tonight... but deadlines and demanding partners resulting in me working too late for that... again! When I walked my back door, the answering machine on the kitchen counter said I had 3 messages, so I hit the flashing red button, then sat down at my desk and began to absent mindedly jot down some follow-up notes regarding the deposition I had spent the entire day in.
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“Candy, hey there... it’s your favorite boyfriend, Brandon. I know you’ve been busy with work but I’d like to try and not talk shop all weekend if we can. I also know I’ve been stressing you out, you know... about where our relationship is going, and I just want you to know that it’s okay if you’re not ready to jump into such a serious relationship right now. I know you have trust issues and I don’t want to push you. Oh... and by the way... I’m your only boyfriend, right?”
>BEEP<
“Hi Candy, Brandon again... I was expecting to hear from you today, I thought we had plans tonight but you’re not taking my calls to your cell phone. If I’ve done something to hurt you or push you away, I didn’t mean to. You seem so distant and secretive, like you want to share things with me... then shy away just as you’re about to confide. Please call me... because the silent treatment is making me crazy.”
>BEEP<
“Candy... me again. I’ll tell you what, you just take all the time you want and call me up sometime when you get your self and your priorities straightened out! I want to hold you close and all you do is push me away! You’ve ignored all my calls to your cell and won’t pick up when I call your home number. Since you’ve stood me up tonight, I’m just going to come by tomorrow morning to try and speak with you in person. I’ll give you your key back, if that’s what you want. I’d say I miss you and want you back... but at times like this... I wonder if I ever really ‘had you’ at all.”
>BEEP<
My head was really pounding now. I just don’t have the time, energy or inclination to explain my “issues” to him.
“I don’t need things to be easy... but why do they just have to be so hard?
Why can’t he just be happy with whatever I do share with him?
Then maybe I’d be comfortable sharing more.”
Frustrated with myself for allowing my job to dominate all of my free time and blaming my relationship difficulties on work, I put my pen down and promised myself I wouldn’t think of work again until 9:00 a.m. Monday morning.
I popped a muscle relaxant and took a long draw from a bottle of water, figuring my headache was due to dehydration. I took a bottle of my favorite French Merlot out of the cabinet and poured myself a very generous glass.
I headed to my bedroom, sipping my wine as I went. I removed my jacket and hung it over the back of my chaise lounge, then sat my glass on the nightstand and just flopped down onto my bed in a huff and just stared at the blank television screen feeling sorry for myself. I couldn’t seem to snap out of my funk. I took several more long drinks of my wine, then leaned my head back on my white satin pillows and closed my eyes, breathing deeply to try and will my headache and tension away. While trying to relax, I finished the huge glass of merlot, then sat my empty glass back on the coffee table... wishing things could just be simple and stress free... just for the weekend.
I must have nodded off, because when I opened my eyes again, it was completely dark outside. The droning of the air conditioner had stopped and the sudden silence must have awakened me. I rolled over to climb off of the bed... giggling a little as I crawled like a tigress across the soft, pillowed landscape.
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I was definitely tipsy... no question about it. I stood up, swayed just a bit, then unzipped my skirt and let it slip effortlessly down my long, pantyhosed legs and pool on top of my feet nyloned feet.
“Te hee... a strip tease and no boyfriend here to appreciate it.”
I dizzily stepped one footsie out of my skirt, then skillfully flipped my leg up so could grab my skirt and lay it neatly on the hamper.
I picked up my empty glass and greedily headed back to the kitchen counter. I upended the wine bottle and the remaining contents of the bottle filled my glass to the rim. I then headed back to my bedroom, smiling... pleased with the tall form being reflected in my living room mirror that was strutting in only black pantyhose and a black bra. With one hand holding my wine glass, my other absentmindedly snaked it’s down to the cotton crotch panel and was greeted with warm moisture that the fabric had wicked away from my perpetually over-aroused puss. I sipped thirstily at my drink, not wanting a drop to be spilled or wasted.
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I sat on my bed then had several more long gulps, then placed my glass on the nightstand. I closed my eyes and again lied back on my cool, white satin sheets. I closed my eyes and dreamily stretched out and squirmed a bit... enjoying the slick sensation of my hosiery and satin bra slipping around effortlessly over the satin sheets.
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I opened my nightstand drawer and began to ponder my evening’s self-pleasure activities, though it seemed unusually difficult to remain focused. I reached down through the drawer full of pantyhose, fishing around underneath them until I closed my fingers around my leather plug gag.
“Mmmmm, nothin’ screams ‘bondage’ like muffled moans through tasty leather.”
I opened my mouth and gently pushed the large leather plug between my eagerly submissive lips. My tongue was pressed firmly down to the bottom of my mouth as the soft leather filled it completely. Pressed against my lips was the rigid, flat leather panel that served as the base for the large plug gag. I looked in my mirror and barely recognized the face gazing back at me, as my mouth was stretched open so wide that my face looked strange to me. Covering my reflection’s mouth was a large, black leather rectangular panel, which concealed her pretty lips... which I’m certain were straining to smile back at me.
I looked longingly at my glass of wine on the nightstand, then pulled the wet gag from my mouth... relishing in the delicious and lingering leather taste. I took my glass and in 2 very un-feminine gulps, emptied its contents. The oak after taste of the merlot complimented the lingering leather taste on my tongue & I giggled just a bit as I thought of sharing such observations with some folks at some swanky wine-tasting party.
“Yes, I know strawberries are fabulous with champagne, but have you ever tried swilling merlot immediately after pulling a large leather plug gag from your mouth, then quickly stuffing it back in and buckling it up tight! Believe you me, the tastes from the merlot region of France DEFINITELY compliment Italy’s finest leather!”
I leaned over and sat the empty glass back on the nightstand and a sensation of vertigo swept over me. I steadied myself with my hands on my bed and blinked slowly to re-focus. While my eyes were closed, in the blackness I began to have visions of my body being layered in lycra by some kind of giant knitting machine that had gone out of control. Sitting there, motionless on my bed for who knows how long... I kept my eyes closed tight and continued to hallucinate about seeing myself writhed helplessly on a couch as layer upon layer of thick, spandex material continued to encase me. My body squirmed beneath the layers, but there were no openings... only sewn seams! The layers continued to cover me and my vision seemed to cloud and blur... as if I were trying to peer through a pair of stockings pulled over my head. In my mind... I leaned closer to the encased figure on the table in front of the bizarre hosiery knitting machine, to try and see her face through the layers of lycra... then I was able to make out that it was me beneath the lycra, but my skin appeared to be nothing but suntan spandex fabric and my eyes, ears, nose and mouth had been neatly stitched shut by the pantyhose sewing machine!
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I gasped for breath and my eyes flew open! I was still sitting there on my bed and by the clock on my nightstand, only a couple of minutes had passed since setting my glass down.
“Holy Schnike that was intense... am I losing my mind?”
Taking several deep breaths to try and calm myself, I reached into my nightstand drawer and retrieved two lengths of cotton rope. I scooted towards my beds footboard and tied each piece of rope to the bed posts, then to each of my ankles. I spread my ankles wide, to give me that “vulnerable and helpless feeling,” then securely knotted them both.
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Lying on the bed next to me was my slick black satin blindfold, that I sleep in every night and wear during my self-pleasure sessions as often as I can, which is not quite every night... unfortunately. I slipped it over my eyes and behind my head, then adjusted it just a bit to ensure I was kept in the dark. I then withdrew several pairs of stockings and, one by one, pulled them over to top of my head, over my eyes and then tightly over my nose. Once I was in darkness again... the vertigo returned. I reached over and felt around for my gag, found it again, then opening my mouth wide in anticipation, reached to pressed it deeply into my mouth. My hallucinations returned and I could see myself completely encased in layers of hosiery, but quite uncharacteristically, they were all crotchless pantyhose! I smirked, feeling a little self conscious at having my crotch exposed, but then began squirming in a panic and dozens more pairs of pantyhose, stockings and knee highs began to snake towards me, slithering out of my lingerie drawer. My body was lifted over onto and examination table and pulled mercilessly into a tight hogtie!
The hosiery continued to slip towards me, coating me with more and more layers over my legs and arms and many of the knee-highs pulled themselves down over my head and face! It was getting harder and harder to breathe and see through the increasing layers, but I was able to witness 3 knee-high stockings swell up and take the shape of large penises, as if they had been rolled down over some invisible cocks like nylon condoms. Then, I saw several pairs of pantyhose tuck themselves into each of these knee-highs, making them into pantyhose-filled dildos. As bizarre as this seemed to me, I was only able to slowly squirm and witness it.
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The hosiery that had become animated around me and moving on its own continued to encase my body and then began to move my legs and arms. My thighs were forced wide apart and I could feel my nylon-coated arms reach down and my encased hands begin to spread my moist puss lips. Before my vision was completely obstructed by the opaque layers of hosiery continuing to layer over my head and face, I saw 2 of the hosiery dildos slither between my parted thighs and press against my exposed cunt and hiney. Panic consumed me as I lay there vulnerable... as the dildos violently pushed inside of me. I opened my mouth to scream, but the 3rd dildo migrated to my face, pushed into my mouth and filled it completely.
I clamped my vaginal and rectal muscles down on the intruders, just as I clenched my teeth on the pantyhose gag, but was able to feel additional pairs of pantyhose slipping inside of the knee highs that were inside of me... sort of stuffing them or inflating them as more and more pairs continued to fill them. The pantyhose encasing my body began to shrink and constrict all over me as the spandex dildos in my mouth, cooch and bum continued to expand! It was all I could do to utter a muffled moan as my helpless body shuddered with an orgasm and I tried to roll across my bed and away from where my nightstand was... the source of the hosiery.
I recall a sharp, quick gasp of cool air in my mouth, then I had more vertigo, feeling like I was spinning, then there was no more hosiery coming for me, no pantyhose dildo’s inside of me, and I exhaled fully, then tried to breath deeply again... but my mouth was filled with something else warm and moist. It felt like my body was rolled over tummy-side down as this large intruder in my mouth pulsing, throbbing and threatening to push further down my throat. My arms felt pinned and useless as I tried to roll myself side to side to get free.
“My God... someone is in my room!”
I felt an arm or hand against my cheek, which I feared was that of my assailant(s)... being used to hold my face against what felt like the pelvis of some intruder as what must have been his cock probed deeply in my helpless mouth. I could feel my nose being mashed flat as the penis bottomed-out in me, pushed behind my tongue and continued to massage the back of my throat, making it impossible for me to breathe. To struggle free, I spread my legs to search for the edge of my bed, to try and get up, but when my thighs parted, the cool air reached the soaked crotch panel of my pantyhose and immediately sent a chill right through to my puss. The sudden cool sensation, in such stark contrast to the moist heat being generated by my cunt, made my clit stand up erect, but it was restrained by the layer of nylon, then was mercilessly and roughly massaged and manipulated by what felt like the strong hands and hungry fingers of what ever group that was groping me.
“No... let me go... I don’t want this!”
The growing wet spot on the crotch panel of my hosiery must have inspired my attackers, for the strong hands now began to push in to me, penetrating and probing me with their nylon-coated fingers. I was being ravaged and completely helpless to stop it, and humiliated that my body was enjoying it so much.
As the burning in my puss grew hotter, signaling an orgasm was only seconds away, my body began to buck and squirm furiously. The convulsions tightened my body as the burning in my lungs for air intensified. Though hidden beneath my blindfold, my eyes were wide-opened and began to bulge. The member in my mouth swelled, then I swear I tasted hot cum being pumped down my throat... and the last thing I recall was being the vertigo again as I was choking and slipping into unconsciousness, quietly sobbing as my pussy involuntarily clamped closed on the three fingers that had push through the crotch of my pantyhose and buried themselves deep inside of me, as a wave of orgasms washed over my body. As my last act of defiance, I chomped down hard with my teeth, feeling them sink deeply into the oral invader and I kicked and rolled my body over as best as I could!
A thin, cool wisp of air slipped past the huge member in my mouth and raced to my lungs, then another... and another. My semi-conscious body stirred on my bed. My sense of balance and direction slowly trickled back to me, and I was aware that I was still lying on my back, legs still spread wide and tied to the corner posts of my bed, but there was something heavy across my face. I struggled and turned my head to the left, and my jaw was afforded some relief from being stretched by what ever was in my mouth. My right arm was laying across my face and apparently had been pushing my gag too deeply into my mouth. I must have been hallucinating from the hypoxia due to asphyxia. Now that I had managed to turn my head away from my numb arm, I was able to open my mouth and throat and breathe better.
As I continued to gasp hungrily for air, the sensation began to return to my arms... my right was still draped over my chin where my gag had been, while my left hand was down between my thighs, my soaked fingers still working absently as my sopping but exhausted puss, fingering me through the hosiery. I eventually was able to bring my hands to my face and get my thumbs beneath the bands of stockings that were constricting around my neck and pull them up and off of my head, then remove my blindfold. The lights were still on in my room and by the nightstand clock, it was now 8:00A.M.
“That whole thing was a dream... or a hallucination!?”
Lying back on my bed, I raised my hips and slipped my thumbs beneath the waist band of my sweat-soaked pantyhose and pulled them down mid-thigh, which was as far as I could while my legs were still tied spread-eagle to the bed posts. The cool air reaching my inflamed puss gave me goose bumps as my gentle fingers reached down to touch my poor, swollen lips. The relentless and frenzied massaging of my clit and cooch through the nylon pantyhose had rubbed my genitals a bit too much and they were now hot to the touch and painfully raw. I stretched and reached over and into my nightstand drawer and retrieved the tub of Vasaline. I scooped two generous fingerfuls out then smeared it against my irritated crotch. I could feel the cool gel ooze into my exhausted cunt and the cooling sensation brought me a sudden bit of relief.
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I continued to lie there, and continued to massage and rub my self with the ointment as I quietly reflected on the night’s bizarre turn of events. My eyes welled up and tears squeezed from my eyes and trickled back into my ears as I lay there, and I felt frightened that:
I could have died from erotic asphyxia tonight; That I had become so addicted to this perverse self-bondage/pantyhose chastity form of masturbation; and most of all That I was so utterly alone and afraid I would never find a soul-mate that would love me and accept my twisted sexual needs... short of trolling on some perverted online kinky sites like Gromet’s Plaza!
I sobbed quietly, drifting in and out of shallow sleep over the next few hours, slowly ooching around on my bed as much as could while my ankles were still securely tied. I reached around me and gathered up all of my self-pleasure toys & paraphernalia, then stretched and reached over to drop them all into my nightstand drawer. My hand continued to busy itself massaging the petroleum jelly into my moist and exhausted mound and it made my eyelids heavy. I could barely remember back to the college days of long ago when I enjoyed such simple, “vanilla” sexual pleasures.
I remember it was not more than a few years ago only toying with kinky things before my last long-term relationship came apart. My sleepy sobs and tears continued as I reflected on how these past several years of working so very hard on my career had only been rivaled by how hard I had worked to become completely in-tune with my body and achieve perfect sexual pleasure and attain solo orgasmic bliss. By not having a “significant other” in my life to reign me in when I continued to escalate my “self-pleasure sessions” to more and more bizarre practices, I have no one but myself to blame for my sexual addictions being so for beyond and outside of what a “normal” lover would probably accept.
“Any man should be disturbed by what I do every weekend...
by what I’ve grown addicted to.”
Feeling that I would never be completely accepted by a lover, never fully sexually satisfied by a lover and never able to completely share my sexual needs and desires with someone depressed me more and more... giving me an emptiness inside that no sexual toys could ever hope to fill.
“How will I ever know if a boyfriend will accept me for everything I am...
if I’m never completely honest and able to share my secrets with him?”
As the droning of my homes A/C shut off and my bedroom became unsettlingly silent, a glimmer of clarity shone in my mind like a ray of sunshine streaming through a window into a dark room.
“I haven’t opened up to Brandon, and now if I don’t, I will lose him.
I must reveal myself to him, completely... and let him know that I cannot change for him, but that I love him enough to understand that if he cannot accept me as I am, then it is better to be honest now, rather than to continue living with my secrets. ”
The more I considered sharing my “kinkiness” with Brandon, the less bleak and depressing my situation seemed. Relief washed over my tired body, followed immediately by sexual arousal. My hand which had been absently rubbing the petroleum jelly on my cunt to sooth the minor irritation from the constant rubbing and grinding of the nylon hosiery, now began to stimulate my clit and slip slowly in and out from between my sopping lips. As fate would have it, I then heard a car pull up into my driveway, then the car door open, then shut. I knew that if I didn’t muster the courage to be completely open with him today, then I’d probably never have the wherewithal to share my true-self with anyone, ever.
As I heard his familiar voice knocking on my door and calling my name, I squirmed with delightful anticipation at him “catching” me masturbating and the long, honest and sharing discussion about my twisted sexual addictions that would surely follow. I withdrew my sticky fingers from my cooch and stopped masturbating just long enough to reach down to my thighs and pull my pantyhose back up. I took my headphones from the pillow next to me and put them on (so I would have a plausible excuse for not hearing him beating on my door) . Just before I hit “play” and my head was filled with tunes from “The Erotic Collection,” I could hear his keys jingling in the lock as he let himself in to my home. I slipped my black satin blindfold over my eyes and, while still lying there... pondered if a gag would be too shocking of a visual for him to handle when he enters my room and “catches” me. It might be a bit much, since coupled with the hosiery, my ankles being spread and bound and a blindfold, but I decided that such an important element of my sexual self-pleasure practices could not be omitted. I blindly felt around in my nightstand drawer and grabbed what I knew to be a large ring-gag and inserted it between my tired jaws and buckled it securely.
I then just relaxed, laid back onto my pillow, reached my hands down between my moist, pantyhosed thighs and began to again massage my nylon-covered puss... squirming as my touch quickly triggered that familiar twinge and tingle deep within the pit of my stomach, while waiting for my new boyfriend to “catch” me. Though my privates were concealed beneath hosiery, I was about to be more exposed to this man than I had ever been to anyone in all my life. I gyrated my hips a little more than necessary and moaned a bit louder than normal... hoping that he had just entered my bedroom and was watching me now! Mmmmm, the thought of my future husband ogling at me as I pleasured myself was so erotic, I had no idea that “performing” for a lover would stimulate me so much. I surrendered to the tingling sensation swelling within me and let them consume me as I was helplessly pulled into another wave of orgasms, as I imagined my lover climbing onto the bed with me.
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Smiles and sunshine, candy
17.08.07