So…A long while back I read a piece of erotica in which a girl engaged in some of what I’ve been simply calling “balloon play.” She would lie back in the tub, take the handle off of her hand-held showerhead (leaving just the hose), and put a regular 9” latex balloon over the end of the hose. She’d fill up the balloon, slipping it inside of her pussy when it was just full enough to do so, and then continue to fill it with more and more of the warm water. She’d then remove the balloon from the hose, tie it off and release her grip, letting it snap back inside of her, hidden from any outside view.
The balloon was far too full at that point to simply fall out or be pushed out, or even to be pulled out manually, but when the time came, she could simply puncture the balloon and let it drain before fishing it out.
She described how the clenches of her vaginal walls around the balloon caused the water inside of it to slosh around, shifting the extreme fullness all around in all of the right spots…& when she shifted her hips, or basically moved at all, the balloon would slosh about violently inside of her, basically fucking her without any need for friction or stretch at her entrance.
I’ve been fantasizing generally for months about the balloon thing…but in the past few weeks its morphed into some much more specific scenarios…2 of which have been especially filling my thoughts…I don’t know just how much I’d want to fulfill them precisely in reality (because it would be quite a bit intense---possibly too intense, even), but they are a lot of fun to think about and consider the potential of *^^*.
The secondary scenario is one of being methodically ordered to follow a specified routine involving the use of one such regular 9” balloon daily…being ordered to insert one of the balloons into my pussy, once at the start of each day, sometime after I’d showered, and being ordered to fill it with very warm water (& leave a sizeable air bubble to allow for maximum sloshing), right up until it was so full that, when I clenched, my arousal immediately spiked up anywhere from 6-9 (i.e. on a scale from 0 – 10, where 0 = completely unaroused, and 10 = orgasm). Then I’d be ordered to tie off the neck of the balloon & release it…this, of course, would be immediately followed by my being tormented further(which I describe in detail later on in this entry). This torment would then be followed afterward by a standing order STRICTLY prohibiting me from touching my clit whatsoever for the next 2 weeks of continued torment (save for the *scrubbing* motions I would make whilst cleaning down there in the shower --- which would have to be kept to the absolute minimum --- and, of course, save for the application of clitoral stimulant gel(s).)
The original part of the two fantasy scenarios, though, was that, one day, I’d be ordered to insert one of the balloons as I said above. Immediately after tying off the neck of the balloon, I’d have to apply the stimulating gel(s), re-dress myself, and then follow a set of orders: I’d have to take the elevator to the top floor of my tall apartment building and go down all of the stairs…I’d be ordered to maintain speed all of the way to the first floor, only stopping if absolutely necessary to prevent orgasm---and if I stopped, each stop could only last for a maximum of 3 consecutive seconds…Furthermore, I’d be ordered to keep track of exactly how many times I’d needed to stop…Once I got to the first floor, I’d take the elevator back to my room, report back to my Master, and await further instructions…
If I’d needed to stop, he’d tell me, then I would have to reapply the gel and undertake the task of the stairs once more, continuing my tally of needed stops until I got back to the first floor, took the elevator back up, and returned to report back…
Once back, if the total number of stops was less than 5, I’d only have to edge 5 times immediately following his orders. However, if I’d stopped 5 or more times, I’d have to take whatever the number of stops was, double that number, and edge that many times. For this order, I would be allowed to touch my clit.
After I’d edged the proper number of times, I’d be ordered to reapply the gel. At this point I’d enter into the secondary scenario: I’d be immediately STRICTLY prohibited from touching my clit at all for 2 weeks straight (except for when applying the gel at the specific intervals he indicated (using the absolute lightest touch possible), and for the absolute minimum amount of touching physically required to wash (scrubbing with a washcloth) every morning.
Every day for those next 2 weeks, I’d be ordered to insert the balloon and apply clit stimulating gel(s) before taking the stairs down from my room to leave my building for the day. Throughout my daily activities, wherever I went, I’d only be allowed to take elevators if they were going up. If going down, I’d always be required to take the stairs.
After completing a set number of tasks, or perhaps after having a certain number of hours pass w/the balloon inside of me, I’d be instructed to come back to my apartment and remove the balloon, before doing a few cycles of kegel exercises. I’d be ordered to complete the few cycles several times over the rest of the day, to make sure that I’d stay nice and tight for my Master.
I wouldn’t have to remove it to be able sit down without pain (unlike dildos---for me, at least), and He could torment me during car rides (a third tiny scenario I’ve been playing with in my head recently), without even needing to reach over towards me or needing to direct me to bring a toy.
Through days 6 and 7, as well as for the first 2 days of the second week, I’d have to change my underwear 2-3 times daily…I’d been getting so wet, I imagined, that it was soaking completely through both panties and shorts, creating distinctly visible wet spots in the fabric between my legs. It made it very difficult to work on projects during the day in my shared studio space, and when I explained this to my Master, He very generously decided to allow me a respite from this embarrassment.
He granted me the ability to wear only the most lightweight of pads---thin pantyliners---under the condition that whenever I put a new one on, it either had to come directly out of the refrigerator, or I’d have to jiggle myself around til I got to the edge once as soon as I’d put it on…of course, this meant that I ended up changing the liner 2-3 times daily, and getting even more horny each time, but at least I didn’t have the visible wet spots anymore.
As you may guess, this had me absolutely brimming with sexual frustration---drowning in it---by the end of the 2nd week.
At the end of the 2 weeks, I imagined, I got to see my Master again. I was simultaneously terrified and ecstatic about being able to see him after my two weeks of torment. My clit was positively throbbing with the ache it had developed over the past two weeks, and I was practically shaking in anticipation of the possibility of having it touched again.