Trisha part 2, rubber bondage, dildos and corset

Jan 4

Linda had me turn around and she closed the corset back, slowly, inexorably pulling my waist in like no diet ever could. I noticed my breathing changing. Each breath now had me breathing from my upper chest. With the bullet bra, I felt each breath in my breasts; quite an odd feeling. Dave had the camcorder linger, watching my breasts go up and down with every breath.


A month and a half had gone by since my public bondage gig. The phone rang, and of course I’m home. I don’t go out very often, and it’s lonely here. Only two people ever called. The first is my parents trying to get me to move back to Alaska. The second is a bill collector wanting money. I don’t want to speak to either of them, but I answered the phone anyway.

“Hi there! It’s Dave from Public Bondage. I hope you enjoyed the modeling gig we did, or at least I didn’t freak you out *too* badly. While I like to get new models whenever possible, I have a more advanced and intimate idea in mind, and wanted to know if you are interested. It would pay a bit better…”

My mood immediately improved as I remembered the walk in the park. Within a few minutes he agreed on some limits – nudity was OK, sex was out of the question, and there would be only minimal physical contact. Yes, Linda will be “chaperoning”. That’s good, I liked Linda. He requested that I wear “loud shoes, so the microphone will pick up the sounds of walking.” I happily assured him that I would be there! Wednesday at 10AM!

I woke up on Wednesday to dreary weather. The meteorologist predicted drizzle all day. If Dave wanted loud shoes; he would get loud shoes. I smirked. I still had white tap shoes from my last dance class, so I wore those, and drove over.

Linda answered the door, and showed me in. They led me upstairs to their guest bedroom, where the shades were drawn. After a drink and some small talk, Dave got out the camcorder, and we started in. The first thing they wanted me to do was strip, then put on what was under a blanket next to me. I slowly stripped down. While I’m not a burlesque dancer, I wanted to look good, so I smiled for Linda and feigned confidence, folding my clothes as they came off. I reminded myself that Dave and Linda had seen my boobs before. Unfortunately, only Dave was interested in them.

I pulled the blanket away, revealing a thick black rubber…thing. It had laces, buckles, and rigid bars. I turned it over trying to figure out what it was. My eyes went wide as I noticed the two rubber dildos and tube of KY. I stood in shock as it all clicked in my head. I turned to look at Dave and Linda, and Linda was already holding a sign – “1) Lube the dildos”. I guess they didn’t want her voice on camera.

I squirted a generous amount of KY onto them, feeling a little silly greasing up rubber penises. I finger painted a smiley face of lube on one and showed it off to the camera. They both laughed. I might as well have fun with this absurdity.

Linda’s next sign read “2) Turn the suit inside out, and carefully insert the dildos, long one in front.” Turning the suit inside out is not as easy as turning a blouse inside out! It was thick enough to roll over itself, ending in a “pop” as it inverted. I looked at the two phallic dongs poking out. I’d never done this before, but I lined up the front dildo and slowly slid it in, feeling it filling me. The rear one started poking at my butt, so I lined it up, and gently pushed. I felt it slither between my ass cheeks, spreading them. I tried to relax as I slid it in where the sun doesn’t shine. More and more rubber dick buried itself inside of me until the crotch of this so-called leotard was seated. My crotch felt as stuffed as a Thanksgiving turkey.

I started to roll the outfit up around me. The pressure of the stiff rubber around me pushed in all the more on the dildos inside of me making the pressure in my groin all the more. I sure wouldn’t forget that I had two rubber poles intruding on my crotch.

The leotard had one rigid bar in front that rose from my waist to a 50’s style bullet bra with nipple rings. Those exaggerated cone-shaped “cups” jutting out were like what Madonna wore back in the 80’s belting out “Like a Prayer”. Maybe it was because I was up close, but these seemed quite a bit perkier, more sharply peaked than what she was in. In the back of this rubber leotard, two rigid bars were on either side of a corset-style closure. This was one formidable garment!

Linda’s next sign read “3) Connect the bra’s nipple rings though your piercings.” The bra was already inside out, its nipples jutting out toward mine. I slid the rings through my nipple piercings, securely connecting my skin to the rubber tip. Under Dave’s unblinking camera, I slowly rolled the bra to right side out. The nipple ring pulled my nipples firmly to the bra tip. Suction pulled on my areolas, and the thick rubber forced my breasts to conform to its conical shape.

I buckled the bra straps over my shoulders to the loosely-hanging back of the leotard-like garment.

Linda had me turn around and she closed the corset back, slowly, inexorably pulling my waist in like no diet ever could. I noticed my breathing changing. Each breath now had me breathing from my upper chest. With the bullet bra, I felt each breath in my breasts; quite an odd feeling. Dave had the camcorder linger, watching my breasts go up and down with every breath.

Linda handed me a short rubber penis on a green leather strap. I looked at her quizzically. She told me “Gag yourself.” I figured anytime Linda’s voice or face appeared on the video would be editted out; she seemed discrete, and wasn’t the one being paid to appear.

I put the short penis in my mouth, and buckled the strap around my head. I could breathe OK through a hole in the middle of the gag. I felt silly sucking on a rubber penis. I don’t even like penises, now each hole is filled with a rubber one! I must have looked like the poster model for penis envy!

The next items I was to wear were gleaming steel rings about a foot and a half across with a pair of straps on opposite ends. One ring was slightly larger than the other. I guessed they were parts to a hoop skirt. I didn’t know how they would attach to any kind of structure, and hoop skirts are out of place in modern San Francisco, but I let Linda help me put the first one on. Dave zoomed in for a closeup, obviously avoiding getting Linda’s face in the shot.

She had me step inside the smaller ring, sliding it up to just below my boobs, and attached my elbows with the integral straps, keeping the ring on the inside of my elbows. Up that high, I realized these rings weren’t intended to be part of any hoop skirt.

The larger ring had metal pockets on opposite sides of the ring. Each pocket was the same size as those in a pair of jeans, about 6 inches long, 4 inches wide, but slowly tapering to a point, and a bit over an inch deep, with an opening on the small side. I stepped into the ring, and Linda raised it up around my body, sliding my hands into the pockets, which went almost up to my wrist. She buckled the pockets around my wrists, thus connecting them to opposing sides of the ring. I realized my hands were held flat; I couldn’t grip anything, or even bend my fingers. While my hands had a limited amount of mobility relative to my body, I couldn’t do anything with it. I couldn’t clap my hands, scratch my nose, or pantomime anything! I moved my arms as part of a large bell, and wiggled torso as the clapper. I sang out “MMfff! mmmmf! MMfff! mmmmf!” I was having a fun time with it.

Linda pulled out a large dark forest green poncho. I saw it had lettering written on it in kelly green tape. As she turned the poncho around, I could read “” written across it. However, someone would have to walk all the way around me to read it. She slid the poncho over my head, and got it seated as best as she could over my rigid arms. Looking down, I could see my nipples tenting the poncho, poking out like some exaggerated joke. It was time to go for a walk.

The weather outside was a cool-misty rain. I stepped outside, and immediately regretted wearing tap shoes. The loud “click-clack” would cause everyone’s heads to look. Me and my bright ideas came back to bite me!

Breathing in and out through the gag was a slight effort with the corset and gag. Breathing through the penis tube hissed back and forth like Darth Vader. I don’t know how audible it was to others, but I was acutely aware of every breath. I walked along, passing a few people huddled under umbrellas. A few noticed the lettering at the last minute. I don’t know how much they could read.

After a few blocks, I eased into my role. I started re-living the days gone by in dance class, and started to tap dance a bit here and there. When I took dance classes, they never taught anything about walking through the streets securely bound. Was it the innocence of youth or the being naive that had passed me by?

I finally got inspired. I didn’t see anyone coming. I started splashing, and tapping out my best Gene Kelly imitation. I sure couldn’t grab a lightpole or play with my hat, but I hoped that loudly humming “Singing in the Rain” into the gag that filled my mouth would get the idea across.

Linda smiled, and seemed to enjoy my upbeat mood. Dave’s face was hidden behind the camera, but I’m sure he enjoyed it too. If I’m going to be walking around with a phallus stuck up every available hole like a penis envy junkie, I’m going to have fun with it! I don’t know if it was the dildos teasing my privates or just a whacky mood, but I felt pretty good!

After a bow (a curtsy in my predicament wouldn’t have shown well), we headed back, soaked and happy. Despite the uncomfortable nature of having a penis up my vagina, another stuffed up my butt and sucking on a third one to breathe, I realized that these modeling gigs not only paid really well, but were a lot of fun!

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