But as much as I want her immobile, she wants it herself even more. She, too, doesn't know why. We don't question it anymore. Like the air we suck into our lungs, it just is. It gives us life.

She has a name, but I won't say it. Right now, she's nothing but a toy I play with, and I don't name my toys.

I can tell what she's thinking. She wonders how I intend to play with her tonight. "None of your fucking business," I whisper in her ear. Toys don't question how they're used.

Of course, she's aware of the rolls of elastic bandages and duct tape. She was the one who retrieved them earlier when she was a person and had a name. But now it's none of her fucking business.

We are both naked. I begin by binding her arms behind her. I use up an entire roll of bandages doing so. I also bind her elbows with rope.

Next her legs. Sealed together within the bandages, they resemble a single thick limb.

She's already quite helpless and I could easily stop there if helplessness were my goal. But I want her completely immobile.

I take several short strips of duct tape and bind her fingers - index to middle, ring to pinky, then the two pairs to each other. Finally, I wrap both hands together, palm to palm. Her fingers are now immobile inside a silver mitten.

Her breathing has quickened. She wonders how far I will go this time. Of course, I don't tell her. Instead, I laugh at my own joke. Imagine: a toy wondering something.

I take a small egg-shaped vibrator and push it into her cunt. It slides in easily. Her juices are flowing like drool from a dog's tongue. I pull the egg out - it's coated with her lube - and quickly slip it into her anus. A second egg replaces the first in her cunt.

Now I circle her waist with a soft, velvet cord, and thread it between her hot thighs. I pull the cord tight, sealing the eggs within their chambers, but allowing the remote control wires to hang free. More duct tape attaches her wrists to the waist cord so she cannot move her arms from side to side behind her. They are now immobile.

I take another roll of bandaging and encase her torso in it. Soon I have her arms wedded to her body. Her breasts I leave free, though, squeezed between the wide bands of elastic. I also leave the rope binding her elbows accessible. I watch her breathe. No sense damaging a perfectly good toy.

The harness gag goes on next. She opens her mouth willingly, eagerly, for the large red ball. Soon she is only able to make inarticulate grunts and groans. I pinch a nipple. "You're my squeak-toy now," I whisper.

The straps of the harness crisscross her face, wrap under her chin, surround her head in leather. The D-rings give me complete control. I attach a rope to the ring on top and tie it to the rope at her elbows. Her head is pulled back, forcing her to stare at the ceiling, and stare she does until I cover her eyes with the blindfold. She is now almost totally immobile.

Toy
Copyright 2000 by Rod Harden
rodharden@yahoo.com
All rights reserved
Do not reproduce without written permission from the author

I pick her up and lay her on the bed. Short strips of duct tape soon bind her toes together. I bend her legs back, and tape them down, ankles to thighs. She's a snug little bundle now. At last, she is exactly as immobile as I want her.

I stand and watch her twitch in her cocoon. Her helplessness makes me hard like nothing else can. There is no word to describe it. I feel as if I could pierce steel with my cock.

I push her on her side and rub my diamond-hard cock between her breasts. Incredibly, her moans make me harder still. I wonder if I'm turning to stone.

A surge begins to build inside me, but it's not yet time to come, so I withdraw. My own breathing is almost as frantic as hers.

Those tits are so inviting, I have to play with them some more. I take only the left one in both hands. I work my hands in as if molding a lump of clay. What would I make with it if it were clay, I wonder. Probably a tit.

The nipples are puckered and hard, like pumice stones. I lick them, suck them, nibble at them. She bucks blindly, muscles tensing uselessly throughout her body. Her reactions only spur me on. At last, I stop, but only to place a pair of clamps on her nipples.

She is desperate now, as if a toy can be desperate. She tries to thrash, but is hindered no matter how she tries. It's a spectacular sight.

I suddenly realize the vibrators inside her have yet to come alive. I press one of the buttons and watch her quiver in response. I turn it off and listen to her whimper for more.

I begin flipping them on and off alternately, a few seconds each. On - quiver - off - whimper. I pull over a chair and relax while I tease and frustrate her with them.

All at once, my own need becomes overwhelming, and I find myself standing again. I pump myself viciously. "Look what you did to me," I shout at her. "I'm coming, you bitch."

My eruption seems to last for minutes. Gobs of sticky cream spurt out again and again. I let the hot jism fall on her clamped breasts. "Shit!" I cry. I didn't want to come yet.

I sit down again and wait for the spasms to subside. Through half-closed eyes I see her body shuddering. Her moans grow in intensity, deep, guttural animal noises. A soft humming sound grabs my attention and I realize I left the vibrators on. "Shit!" I shout again. I didn't mean to let her come yet, either.

I turn the vibrators off, and lean back. I tell myself it's no big deal. The first one's the easiest anyway, and I have all night.

Toy
Copyright 2000 by Rod Harden
All rights reserved
Do not reproduce without written permission from the author