A Special Femdom “Appropriate” Waiting Room
It seemed simple enough… show up at the agreed upon address, let myself in, strip, and wait as Femdom appropriate “As femdom appropriate” had never made much sense to me. I hadn’t taken her for being a form oriented domme, expecting me be to kneeling in supplication, palms up or hands behind my back, prefacing any and all responses with “Yes, Mistress.” I am a bottom, fairly dominant in my life, desiring experiences of erotic sensation, most all forms, sensuality to pretty severe, a penchant for predicaments, with basic safe, sane, consensual limits; no scat, nothing permanent, or for that matter no marks that might last more than a day or two. And, no identifying images.
I entered the room and found it white, almost stark white; a room maybe 30′ x 30′ square, with a ceiling hidden in blackness behind the bright, drop lights. And hot. It must have been about 80-85 degrees, when a normal room would have been kept around 70-72. Stripping then, was not going to cause me any chill discomfort. I guess I wouldn’t need a lot of warming up.
There, at the far end of the room, was my answer to “as femdom appropriate”. Bolted to the floor with a very short length of chain were a pair of padded ankle cuffs; hanging from the ceiling were a pair of steel/chrome metal gloves that would cover up to the mid-forearm and a heavy leather helmet; and, sticking out of the wall, just over 5-feet high, was a metal rod with a large red rubber gag on a post, straps loosely hanging from either side. It didn’t take my genius to determine what “as femdom appropriate” meant, or the order in which it would have to happen.
Quickly stripping, I folded my clothes and set them off to the side, well out of the way. In the process, I noticed there were outlines for my feet, just under where the ankle cuffs had been meticulously laid out, spaced about a foot apart, but also with the toes practically touching the wall. The padding in the ankle cuffs hardly made sense, for running right through the center, all the way around, was a half-inch wide band of metal. I was happy it didn’t pinch or bind as I pulled the strap tight. It was awkward putting on the second one because I was pressed up against the wall, having to bend sideways, balance, and strap on the cuff.
The helmet would be next. I’d never worn a full helmet like this one. It was awfully heavy, a zipper from crown to collar, with straps that seemed overkill, blacked out eye-pieces, breathing holes for nose and mouth, and even an attached collar that would wrap around and buckle tight. Attachment points included a D-ring on top where it was currently suspended and several around the collar. A second set of straps running from the chin would connect up at the top of the head and lock the jaw tightly shut – at least once the gag was inserted. And of course, it would take care of the de-personalizing any video or images she might choose to take.
Once that would be done, there’d be no real movement and I’d have to blindly slide my hands into those gloves. Aha, there’s the final catch, it looks like the straps around the wrists, holding up the gloves, would pull tight with just a little downward pull, and in that case, I won’t be getting out until she decides to let me out.
Trust, that’s what it comes down to, doesn’t it?
Do I trust her enough to submit, to stretch out and be vulnerable?
Her taking pleasure was a given. But, will she play with me, yet care for me?
OK then, one last look for placement and then the final commitment.
Hood on. Perhaps instinctually I close my eyes, yet still a slight claustrophobic feeling, alleviated by the air flow through the nose and mouth. Initially cool to the touch, it warms up quickly as I zip it close. I hold steady as I strap the double-width collar closed. Slowly I find the gag, positioning my mouth over it and close my mouth as if scuba diving, but now with limited air through my nostrils. I pause, experiencing the sensations… adjusting, and finally accepting. The straps from the ball gag wrap around the back of my head, the buckle fastening tightly, yet easily. I bring the chin straps up to the top of my head, just behind the supporting top ring, and fasten them tight and secure.
Finally, the gloves. They are almost anti-climatic as I gently find them, slide my hands up, and curl my fingers into the mated holes.
And “wait as femdom appropriate.” One minute… two… three…
by: Ghostprime
