Author's Note: This is a deliberately short cameo story that I wrote with a view to creating a photoshoot to illustrate it at some point in the future. All I need is to find the right (and willing) model


It had been hours, but she was still torn between wanting it to end and never wanting it to end.

She stood, immobile in the corner of the room; her rubber clad body illuminated by a single spotlight that cast a writhing shadow on the wall. The bright, harsh light bounced reflections of her shiny, latex clad head, enclosed in the isolation hood that so cruelly cut her off from the rest of her small world.

Under the hood, tiny rivers of sweat merged with the drool caused by the huge ball that her lips encompassed. The tightness of the hood prevented any possibility of her pushing the ball out to obtain any relief from the ache that had developed in her jaw so many hours ago. Her only connection with the outside world were the two tiny hole beneath her nose, from which rasping sounds of heavy breathing, mixed with wails of frustration from time to time.

Occasionally a little drop of liquid would escape from under the harsh posture collar that held her head so immovably. Slowly it would carve it's own path down the latex straitjacket, the one that she had so willingly allowed to enclose her so long ago. Then, wearing it was like giving herself a big hug. Now, it was the thing that was stopping her from reaching her one and only goal, taking away from her the use of her fingers that she so craved.

For probably the thousandth time, her body sagged in her bonds as she sought to make that illusive contact with the humming vibrator that had been so fiendishly attached to the inhibitor bar, only millimetres from her throbbing clit. The constant vibration that it caused continued to frustrate her, the vibrations running through the dildo in her pussy, not enough in itself to provide her relief in the form of the massive orgasm that she so richly deserved but found so elusive. As her knees bent, the steel bar shortened as well, preventing her putting any extra pressure on the dildo. No matter what she tried, the head of that vibrator remained tantalisingly out of reach. Another wail from those two small holes in her facemask revealed once again her failure to reach her goal.

Little did she realise that whatever she tried she would never make the contact that she desperately needed to reach orgasm. The pole on which the dildo was mounted was designed so that it would follow her body both upwards and downwards. Even if she could raise her heels any further than the seven inches that her incredible, but torturous boots, already lifted them from the floor, the strap so cunningly attached to the front of her straitjacket made sure that the dildo never wavered in it's immovable penetration. Fixing the bottom of the pole rigidly to the display stand on which she stood, and connecting the ankle spreader bar to it, ensured that her feet never left the assigned spot.

She bent her knees once more, giving her short respite from the terrible cramps that had set in around her calves, stretched tight to breaking point as her ankles twisted past vertical to maintain her balance. She tried to ignore the wave of pain coursing through her nipples as the chains connected to the tight nipple clamps caused her breasts to reach skywards towards the ceiling.

Slowly the time slipped by, the pains in her body merged into one another, and still the orgasm, the final goal never came. In her mind, she wanted it to end. She wanted to be free of her bonds and return to her normal life. But her frustration overcame that desire. It had been a month since her last opportunity to experience that wave of emotion that the elusive orgasm brings with it. Then he had slipped up and she found her nirvana. This time there was no mistake. A few hours more and her wish would come true, she would be free of her bonds, but her engorged and throbbing clitoris would be back behind the cold hard steel of the chastity belt that ensured her faithfulness to him. No possibility of sexual release for another month, until once again the cycle of frustration commences.

The wails of frustration grew louder as time ran out.