I’d made assumptions about Chelsea, or at least the content of her journal. She’d talk about her day, her feelings, perhaps offer a little insight into what made her tick. Anything but what it actually contained. To say that I was surprised by her first entry would be an understatement. She’d entered a description of a method for what she referred to as ‘Frozen Key’. Place key in plastic water bottle. Freeze overnight. Keys will be inaccessible until ice melts. Body warmth will speed up the process. Fascinated, I continued, turning the page to find a neat sketch entitled ‘Frozen String’ with the following instructions accompanying it. Measure distance between anchor point and the location bound hands will be. Add 6 inches. Tie loop at one end of string. Attach key to other. Neatly coil in a bowl of water leaving ends free. Freeze.These were obviously pre-planned methods to free one from self-inflicted bondage, or at least that was the impression I got. I flipped through several more entries with titles such as Ice Padlock 1-4, O ring, Ice Anchor, Ice pantyhose, salt/sugar padlock, water lock, commercial timed locks, electromagnets… I was impressed by the sheer amount of creativity. A section on knots followed. Fascinated, I continued. Square knots. Bowlines. Figure eights. Noose. Slip knots. Overhand. As with the release methods, Chelsea has drawn basic diagrams accompanying each one. There was more. I’d barely scratched the surface of what was within, but I decided to save it for another time. I wanted to savor this discovery. If I understood correctly, Chelsea regularly tied herself up. I faintly recalled hearing of the term ‘self-bondage’, but that was the extent of it. I’d have to do some research on the internet to learn more. I eyed the toys in her drawer, carefully inserting the Diary back among them, temptation welling deep within. Every time I deviated from my planned path, I took a risk. I should get dressed and return to my house. There, I could test the camera. I chuckled at that thought, chiding myself. It was set to detect motion. I wouldn’t be able to turn it on remotely. It would have to be triggered. Gazing upwards, I did my best to spot it and failed. Good. If I was unable to spot it, having placed it, the odds against her discovering it were miniscule. To test it, I’d simply have to move into range which meant, I’d have to be on her bed. Simple enough. Just move into range for 30 seconds or so and then erase all signs of my presence. A simple task.I continued to stare into the drawer, transfixed by her toys. Mainly, it was dildos that had been inside her pretty pink pussy that called to me with their siren song. I wondered if her scent was still on them or if she had Escort Gölbaşı robbed me of that, cleaning them carefully after each use. I needed to know. I chose the black one, caressing it tentatively with a single finger, worried that if I were to actually pluck it from its resting place, I’d lose all control and, at the same time, tempted by the thought of doing just that. I’d been fantasizing about sniffing her used panties for days. Breathing in the scent of her pussy. This wouldn’t be much different, I thought, in an attempt to convince myself. All I would do is pick it up, hold it to my nose before replacing it exactly as I’d found it. Nothing more.I was done in by the hint of slightly musky fragrance that filled my nostrils. It was pleasant. More than pleasant, actually. It was intoxicating. Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs slowly and then exhaling just as slowly, wetting my lips. It was intoxicating. Taking another deep breath, this one to settle my nerves, I found myself taking up residence on her bed, my hair fanning out on her pillow. Swallowing, I stared up at the ceiling, knowing that this would be committed to video on my hard drive. I raised my knees as I spread my feet apart and lay her dildo on my soft belly and lifted my arms above my head, putting my wet pussy on display for the camera. The rails cool to the touch. I wrapped my fingers around two of them and began to roll my hips slowly as if I was fucking an invisible lover smiling with amusement as Chelsea’s dildo rolled off my stomach and onto the bedspread and lay there, judging me while I did my best to ignore it. Releasing the rails, I sat up and removed my bra exposing nipples so stiff and sensitive that the merest brush of my fingers against them sent me shivering.In for a penny, as the saying goes. Dildo gripped tight, I feed it into a well lubricated pussy with a hungry moan of primal desire and began to fuck myself slowly, the strokes long and deep, hips raising to meet each one. I imagined I was Chelsea, and that I was watching her and began to fuck myself faster, pushing her toy deeper and harder into my now dripping wet cunt with each stroke. Grabbing one nipple, tugging and twisting until I cried out with pain, eye focused on the ceiling, making a show of it. What if it was her, watching me? Her, sitting in her office, the door closed, watching me on her laptop, her panties discarded on the carpet, a black latex cock, the twin to the one I was using, in her sopping wet cunt, matching the intensity of my strokes, each one harder, faster, deeper, her hand covering her mouth so that her co-workers couldn’t hear her moans, her whimpers, her cries…I came. Loud and hard. So Keçiören escort hard I wondered if I might have blacked out. I lay there panting, too exhausted to move, her black latex cock shoved deep into my quivering gash, fluids leaking out of me, staining the covers. Fuck. I couldn’t let that happen, but I was paralyzed and unable to do anything about it. Breathing hard, eyes closed, I imagined her standing over me, licking her lips as she climbed onto her bed with me and settled between my legs, her moist lips brushing against my wetness, her tongue pushing between my swollen lips, licking me, savoring every drop while I begged her to push her tongue into me and make me come again. I began playing with my clit, pulling the dildo free, kissing it, sucking my own juices from it. This is what she would taste as she made love to my pussy. The sweet tang of my cum. Opening wide, I sucked on the head, licking along the bottom of the shaft, blowing it like I would a real cock, thumb grinding against my throbbing clit, slipping my finger between my cunt lips until it was dripping wet and then pressing it against my puckered anus. Drawing a deep breath, I relaxed and pushed, feeling my fingertip push past my ring. This is what her tongue would feel like. I bucked, losing control and pushing my digit deep into my ass. It hurt gloriously and then, it didn’t and I found myself coming once again, her name on my lips as I lost myself in ecstasy.All other plans were put aside after that. Before I did anything else I’d have to clean up my mess. I stripped the cover from her bed and piled it on the floor, blushing hard at the painfully obvious wet spot centered on the blue material. It would have been embarrassing, if there’d been anyone else to see it. I paused a moment and took a deep breath. No more straying. From now on I wouldn’t deviate from the agenda regardless of whatever temptation was placed before me. Follow the schedule. To the letter. Over the course of the next hour, that became my manta. No deviations. I repeated it over and over in my head, sometimes even mumbling it out loud as a gathered her bedspread and washed it, using her washing machine. I doubted very much that she’d noticed the small amount of soap missing and I wasn’t prepared to drag it back to my place. I spent the time constructively, continuing to read her journal, or work book as I started calling it.Knots. Release methods. Notes about which worked best, scribbled in the margins as if added later. It reminded me of lab notes with results added later, after an experiment had been performed. And then, something even more interesting. Crude diagram, or rather simply drawn ones, with notes following. As I Kızılay escort bayan thumbed through, I realized that she’d been designing, for the lack of a better description, bondage devices based on existing items such as stockades, cages, the iron maiden – items traditionally used for punishment. I was spellbound. They were, for the most part, clever contraptions. Chewing on my lip, lost in thought, I wondered if I could replicate her ideas. Most of them, I decided, I could, although it would be a time consuming project. Perhaps I’d pick out one or two favorites and concentrate on them. Patience was key, I decided, startled into hastily replacing the journal as the dryer chime sounded. Heart beating rapidly, it was decided that I’d pushed her luck far enough for today. Time to erase all trace. No deviations, I murmured, finding comfort in the repeated phrase as I put everything back the way it had been before my intrusion and returned home, eager to see the fruits of my labor. Taking my laptop into my bedroom, I stripped out of my clothes, even my underwear this time, and propped myself up against my pillows before opening my spy cam programI’d never watched myself before. Making amateur porn tapes or even taking nude selfies had never been something I was into. I hit play, my lap top sitting on the quilt between my outstretched thighs, and watched as I climbed up onto her bed, my hair spread out on the pillow she lay her head on while she slept. While she did things in her bed that had nothing to do with sleep. I watched as I undressed, revealing swollen nipples. Breathless, I watched as I pushed her dildo into my pussy for the first time, inspired to retrieve one of my own, so that I could relive the experience, pushing it into my cunt, still slightly sore from the fucking I had given myself, fucking myself in sync with the image of me on my computer screen, my moans harmonious with those emitting from my speaker, creating a sensual symphony of ecstasy until both I, and the digital me, were on the verge of coming. Only then did force myself to stop, watching with a strange sense of fascination as bucked and moaned and cried out, my earlier orgasm rocking through like a flesh tsunami until I was spent. Not so my present self. I was trembling and shaking with lust. The willpower it required to not reach between my legs and plunge my fingers into my hot creamy pussy was extraordinary, but I managed. I had other plans, after all. I wanted to save my orgasm for her. I wanted to come with Chelsea, our moans intertwined, meshing together as I spied upon her. The thought that she might simply turn the lights out, crawl into bed, and go to sleep presented themselves, nagging at me. I had no control over that aspect. If so, I’d have to wait until tomorrow night. Or the next. Or how long it took, keeping myself on edge for her. It would be exquisite torture and, if that happened, I would repay her in kind at some point. The inkling of another plan began to take form, one I would have to examine at a later date.