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A leather harness sends a powerful signal of sexual desire. Traditionally the message was submission, rooted I suppose in the familiar image of horses in riding tack, but in the last decade the picture has become somewhat blurred by the adoption of such adornment by dominant females.
Allow me to make it even more complicated by adding some of my personal tastes. Imagine that this is a portrayal of a woman who's lust is unlocked by being in a submissive role, but who prefers to do it alone. At work she is the meek, pleasant office worker who no one would suspect is wearing the harness you see here under her demure skirt and blouse. I would add to that a little something from my fetish bag, say a satin blouse and a long, silky pleated skirt, which together bath her in a cloud of gentle erotic tickling. The blouse is made of relatively heavy satin, with a high, tight collar, long billowing sleeves and completely smooth in front. She selected the fabric with great care, paying close attention to how good it felt brushing against her nipples, making sure that the fabric was thick enough and the cut baggy enough so that her erect nipples would not be obvious. The skirt was chosen with the same care. It is long enough to conceal the fact that she wears knee-high stockings under it in order to expose as much of her as possible to the gentle caresses of the pleats. The fabric is smooth and cold to the touch, heavy enough to allow it to be worn without a slip yet supple enough to let the pleats swirl around her legs. The inescapable ticklish teasing combined with the firm pressure of the harness keeps her thoughts on sex all day, especially on the dildo that awaits her at home.
After work she fights off the urge to rush home and satisfy herself, forcing herself instead to go shopping and eat a quiet dinner in a small restaurant. Shopping is her number one hobby, because she is constantly on the lookout for clothes she can wear to work that have that rare combination of color, style and most of all the sensuous feel that she is addicted to.
The trip home includes a long train ride, followed by a ten minute walk from her station. To make the trip more interesting she goes the rest room after dinner and pulls a short leather strap from her purse. She clips one end to the metal ring at the small of her back, and the other end to the ring above her crotch. It fits very tight, so that the narrow strap pulls well up into her labia. There is a slit in the strap positioned directly over her clit, and as the strap works its way inside her the slit surrounds her clit, gripping it just enough to bring tears to her eyes. Despite her fatigue she chooses to stand on the long ride home, because that way the gentle rocking of the train keeps her skirt and blouse moving over her body, subjecting her to the maddening ticklish torment she finds so arousing.
Upon arriving home she might allow herself to take a quick trip to the bathroom, but after that she makes a bee-line for her bedroom and the machine that she has been thinking about all day. With great care she removes her clothes and hangs them up neatly, then dons a pair of leather wrist cuffs. A short chain is attached to each cuff, with a slip-lock hook at the end.
Gleefully she plunges the knobbed shaft deep inside her, flicks on the switch, and casts herself into the roiling sea of passion accompanied by fantasies of being bound and forced to endure the dildo in her cunt for hours on end. To enhance that part of her ordeal she clips the hooks at the ends of the cuff chains to rings sewn to the thigh straps. The chains are just long enough to allow her to operate the sliding locks while allowing her to feel as though she is incapable of stopping the throbbing dildo.
Perhaps this will inspire you to concoct your own story about the events leading up to this image.
Sandy Beach
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