## My first Straitjacket bondage experience

Post by SephySJ » Sun Sep 30, 2012 5:56 pm

She stood there, her dress removed, her bra and underwear all that remained. I was sat on my bed nervously, having looked forward to this night for a good few weeks. She looks at me, almost with a kind of disdain. I know she likes bondage, but I also know that she thinks this is a bit too hardcore, and normally SHE's the one who gets tied up. She picks up the mass of heavy white canvas and straps, freshly unpacked from it's long ride over the Atlantic to my house. She holds it up by the red neck collar, examining the shiny steel buckles that of which she will soon be securing. She looks over to me, her expression fixed. 'Right', she says, 'come here and put your arms out'. I stand up...
So, pretty much ever since I found I loved bondage, one of my biggest fetishes has been straitjackets, specifically posey straitjackets. I like all types of bondage, but it's just something about a straitjacket that fascinates me. It's such an unusual way to restrain a person, the heavy-duty canvas material and clanging of the buckles arouses me to no end. The funny thing is it's not exactly the sexiest or most practical means of bondage is it? The crotch strap basically restricts your access to any fun you might want to have (maybe not so much for males, but 'll talk more about that later) and the rest of the straitjacket denies access to a woman's breasts. When fully strapped up, there's not a whole lot of fun either you or your partner can have (of course, being in the straitjacket is fun, but for more intimate acts it gets in the way a bit).
So one day, a bit of money comes my way, and I realise my bondage collection is a bit lacking. I scour the web; having done my research already, and I arrive at the site I've had my eyes on for a good long while. The image of a model, an attractive woman in her 30's, her back slightly turned towards the camera, looking over her shoulder. Beneath her slightly subdued, almost sorrowful expression, the object of my desires; a posey straitjacket, tightly encasing her curvy figure, one arm neatly folded over the other, both passing through the same central loop and secured firmly behind her back. The back of the crotch strap is visible as it reaches up between each buttock and lies secured at the bottom-most buckle, one of five that make up the back of the jacket. Just looking at the image arouses me, and using my credit card to purchase my very own small-sized straitjacket makes me tingle with excitement and anticipation. I long to be wrapped in its heavy embrace, the resistance of the canvas against my arms, the single strap between my legs exciting my genitalia and ultimately denying me any chance of freeing myself from such strict bondage. Of course, the longer spent in there, the better.
So the day comes and, as I have described, the scene is set. 'Come on', my girlfriend says, her dark brown hair lying neatly on her shoulders, her slim, pale figure a feast for the eyes, her breasts and vagina cruelly hidden from my sight by cartoon-themed underwear and a light blue bra. I move towards her, she raises the jacket to compensate for our height difference, and I slide my arms in through the long, thick sleeves of the straitjacket, my outstretched fingers hitting the sealed end of each sleeve, the left ending in a large silver buckle, the right ending in a lengthy strap.
'Turn around', my girlfriend orders, accepting her seldom received role as the dominant partner and, I would later find out, quite excited at the thought of me helpless for half an hour. I do as commanded. She pulls the jacket further up over my shoulders in order to commence the beginning of my bondage, as she does so, my hands ball into fists, compensating for the lack of space the sleeves afford me, though, with a little effort and maneuvering, I am able to outstretch them again. I look down at my canvas encased arms, the material so thick as to obscure my knuckles beneath an inch of white. The heaviness of the straitjacket is suddenly apparent, a good few pounds lying on my shoulders. My girlfriends is slow in the buckling of the straps behind my back, either because the workings of the jacket are still a little foreign to her or because she knows I'm relishing every moment, and wishes to prolong the experience for me as much as possible. I finally feel the top strap secured, pulled tight through the buckle, closing the red striped collar neatly around the top of my torso, loose enough so as not to come in contact with my neck, as these medical straitjackets ensure, but tight enough for me to feel sufficiently wrapped, only 15 seconds into my bondage and I already feel unsure about my potential ability to escape. These posey restraints sure have earned their reputation.
My girlfriend continues securing the back of the straitjacket, one-by-one the straps are tied and I feel the jacket closing in on my body more and more. I contemplate threading my arms through the front loop in preparation for the final part of my restraint, but I reconsider; I don't want to be TOO obedient, and besides, it's way more fun if she has to force my arms in herself. The 4th and final back strap is secured, and the jacket is neatly yet tightly adorned. I motion my upper body in an attempt to potentially gain slack and slip the jacket over my head, but immediately I feel the resistance of the restraint against me, my girlfriend having ensured the security of each strap so as to afford little movement on my part. She leans over my shoulder, looking down at the front loop and sleeves to better see how it looks. 'Comfy?', she asks with a slight grin, herself a little turned on at the sight of her partner partially tied up in a maximum security straitjacket, despite having made clear her feelings of uncertainty about the item. I nod, still tingling nervously at the feeling of actually wearing the jacket, a feeling that would never cease to arouse me in future sessions. My girlfriend smooths out the bottom of the jacket a little, ensuring it is neatly in line with just above my hips. She glances at this part of the restraint, stitched instructions for use visible here, the small lettering upside-down and difficult to see from my perspective. After a moment she stands up to her full height, more than half a foot beneath mine, and confidently grabs the strap hanging between my legs. My breathing increasing ever so slightly in intensity, but she notices. She moves her other hand over the side of my left thigh, a bulk underneath my jeans easily apparent. She lightly rubs my erection, to which I softly moan. A part of me wanted her to finish me off there and then, my arousal guaranteeing an early climax, but, thankfully, she removes her hand and moves behind me again.
'This is going to be tight', she softly speaks into my ear, and the crotch strap is pulled underneath my groin and up between my buttocks. The feeling is strange, but not unpleasant, the material lightly resting over my penis. Sure to her word, my girlfriend threads the strap through the rear buckle of the jacket and tightly pulls it down in a swift motion. The entire jacket as a result of this, bears down on me even more than it had, firmly atop my shoulders and between my legs. She senses my slight discomfort, and (very slightly) loosens the strap a little bit, though it's presence was still firmly felt. She finishes the buckling of the strap and I feel her slot the excess crotch strap through a point above the buckle, neatly housing the top of the strap. At this point I raise my shoulders and arms a little bit to test the security of the jacket. Immediately the crotch strap presses against my groin and backside, the entire jacket seemingly tightening in an instant, until I lower my shoulders to default their default position. This instantly dispels in me any previous thoughts I may have had for slipping the jacket over my head. I move my right hand to the back of the jacket where the crotch strap was secured, but the combination of not being able to use my fingers and not being able to see what I was doing made the attempt of actually finding the correct buckle in the myriad of straps futile. Not as if I was going to undo it anyway, but I thought it was at least worth a shot. I didn't want to be let out anytime soon, and the best part of my bondage was yet to come.
My girlfriend had moved to my front again and was looking me up and down, admiring the sudden tight fit the jacket had taken on. It was clear the jacket was a little small for me, but smaller just meant a tighter fit, and in my eyes (and hers), the tighter the better. 'Turn around', she said with authority. I did so, resisting pointing out the fact that she had only just had full view of the back of me seconds ago, but not wanting to call her dominance into question. Very soon I would be at her mercy, and I didn't want to give her any excuse to abuse her position. At least not yet anyway. And besides, she was enjoying her new found power.
'How does it feel?'
'Tight'.
'Do you want me to loosen the straps?'
'No it's fine'.
'Haha, you like it tight don't you?'
'Eh. It's ok'.
'You're my little gimp'.
I hold up my arms, glancing at either end of the sleeves rendering the use of my fingers useless. It's not as if I could get out anyway like this, but I want the bondage to be complete. She takes the hint. Without a word she moves towards me, grabs my right sleeve by the strap, positions herself behind me, her arm around me in a half-embrace and, grabbing the end of the strap with her other hand, pulls my arm through the front loop of the straitjacket until the middle of my sleeved limb rests on the bottom of the front loop and the strap hangs towards the floor. She grabs what would have been my hand were it not trapped in canvas, and keeps it still, denying me any attempt to simply take my arm out of the loop. Her right hand picks up my left sleeve by the buckle and passes it to her other hand which is guarding my right arm. Her hand takes the buckle and pulls, until most of my left arm is also through the loop and neatly resting on top of my other arm. My breathing further intensifies. The feeling of
my arms being held in the centre of my body by this middle strap excites me greatly, my body in a perpetual self-hug further increases the restriction of the canvas around me. My girlfriend moves both the buckle and the strap through the loops on either side of the jacket, adding further security and finally ties the last strap up, putting one hand on my shoulder in order to use her full weight in the tightening of. My arms are pulled even more in either direction; trying to pull my arms back out of the loop at this point is entirely futile, the friction buckle at the back guaranteeing the strap won't come loose without some excessive wiggling. As this dawns on me, my girlfriend has fully secured the strap, the sound of canvas pulled through metal signifying the completion of my bondage.
I am no longer wearing the jacket as if it were an item of clothing; indeed 'wearing' implies you have a choice in the matter. No, I am now IN the jacket, restrained by it, made helpless by it. My girlfriend once more moves in front of me. I try wiggling my arms but there is little to no slack; I can lift my elbows up but not by much, and indeed that is all I can do. I try moving both my arms up, only for them to hit the top of the front loop. This action also pulls on my crotch strap, which further presses itself against my erection and moves up my crack a little; I return them back to where they are, only to try and move them down, which pulls the jacket with them, putting pressure on my shoulders. I stand defeated. I try to turn my head to get a glimpse of the back of my straitjacket, but I can only see the end of the top-most strap, snugly secured. I continue my struggling, only because the feeling of the bondage turns me on further. Even when I don't struggle, the position of my arms, the slight glimpse of red fabric near my neck, and the strap riding up between my legs ensure my continued arousal, and it is at this point that I look my girlfriend in the eye, longing to feel her touch while restrained like a mental patient.
'Like it?'
'Yeah, it's alright'.
'Can you get out?'
'Nope'.
'Well struggle more then!'
'I can't! There's no way out'.
'Well I'm not letting you out so unless you escape you're stuck like that'.
'Are you going to kiss me?'
'(sigh) Fine. Come here'.
I move towards her until I am about half a foot away from her. I purse my lips. She grabs the top of the front loop, using it as a handle to bring me closer to her. We kiss passionately, my tongue slowly carressing hers and hers mine. She moves one hand to the back of the jacket, finding the crotch strap buckle, and gently jerks it up. I moan, my tongue stopping for the briefest of moments, to which she gently sucks with her lips. She lowers the buckle, removing the added pressure of the strap against my penis, which lies fully erect in my boxers. Again she lifts the buckle and lowers it, and continues this motion, which tantalisingly brushes the strap gently against side of my shaft; enough to keep me excited but not enough to make me orgasm, the feeling of which is aganising in the best sense of the word. After a minute or so of kissing she moves away from me, her hand around the jackets front loop firm, telling me to stay where I am. I obey, not knowing what to expect next, but relishing every moment of my bondage. She moves over to the box where we keep our bondage items, full of items gathered over our short but passionate relationship; handcuffs, ball gags, lengths of rope, thumbcuffs, bondage tape, floggers, vibrators, anything that caught our eye during our sex toy hunting times on the web. She picks something up, keeping it behind her back from view, hesitates for a minute, and gathers another item, again concealed. She turns around and looks at her prisoner and simply says 'Left or right?', an evil grin across her face. 'Right' I say, to which she produces a harness ball gag; a black rubber ball connected to almost as many straps as the jacket binding me, it was intimidating to look at. I had only ever seen it on her; two straps going over her nose and meeting to form a single strap just beneath her forehead, the black rubber ball placed carefully behind her teeth, two straps holding it there, which themselves meet at the back of the head along with the head strap, tying together neatly. A chin strap added further restriction, keeping the fairly sized ball securely in her mouth. A final strap tied around the hairline, further tightening device. Removal without hands was impossible, and she had often drooled uncontrollably after a few short minutes of wearing it, much to my delight. This was to be my gag.
Upon realisation of the gag she had for me, I couldn't help but express concern: 'Not that one, it's too-', but she had already moved over to me, again grabbing the front loop of the jacket as a makeshift handhold and pulled me towards her. 'I'm in charge tonight, so you're going to wear the gag, sit in your straitjacket, and do as I say until I let you out. Otherwise there'll be no happy ending'. I hush my mouth, slightly taken aback by her tone, but no less aroused by her dominance. Without further disagreement I open my mouth when prompted, taking in the rubber, slightly spongy ball gag, and wait patiently as she ties the multitude of straps, again with the same hesitant manner she exhibited when applying the straitjacket; she had never used the gag on me, and so was a little confused as to which strap went where, but without too much effort the harness was secure around my head, the two straps at the centre of my head slightly lower than they would be on her, resting instead just above the bridge of my nose. The chin strap was quite tight, and the straps holding the ball gag in slightly cut into either side of my mouth. It was a little uncomfortable, but I had gagged her with it many times before, and each timer a lot tighter than was on me, so I nodded politely when she asked me 'Is that ok?'.
So there I am, bound and gagged, escape impossible, speech extremely difficult and at the mercy of my lover. Again she looks me up and down, admiring her handiwork, checking the straps on my back and on my head. 'Try and speak', she commands, to which I responds with a few garbled noises, which only results in a bit of drool running down my mouth. She laughs a little, remarking 'It's not nice, is it?', referring to the gag. I struggle at my straitjacket a bit more, determined to fight against my canvas prison, but there is no hope. It is at this point my girlfriend again moves toward our box of bondage, but instead of reaching down to grab another item in which to add further humiliation, she turns around and casually removs her bra and underwear, tossing them to one side of my bedroom. My penis throbs. Her petit breasts and neatly shaved genitalia tease me to no end. I move towards her (to do what, I haven't a clue, both my mouth and hands were pretty useless, so pleasing her wasn't exactly going to happen) but she holds up her hand: 'No! Stay there. Sit on the bed and look away'. I do as ordered, sitting at the end of the bed, turning away from her and looking at the TV in the corner of my room. The crotch strap gives a tiny bit of slack as I sit down, but is still rather firm against my penis and testicles. I wonder to myself at which point she will undress me and satisfy me; I had donned the straitjacket fully clothed and there seemed to be no sign of her removing my pants anytime soon. It had only been a little over 10 minutes but my penis was getting a little uncomfortable against my boxers and jeans, and I was starting to feel a tad warm in the jacket as well. Still, not as if I could complain. I hear my girlfriend rustling in the box so I peak my head round to hopefully get a glimpse of the next item she wished to use on me, only to see her immediately look up at me. 'I said no peeking', she barks, but I have already witnessed my next punishment, a blindfold. I mumble through my gag in defiance. She takes her clothes off only to take away my sight? How torturous. She moves over to me, but I move away, shuffling up the bed to try and escape her approach. She grabs the back of my jacket and forces me down on the bed, so I am looking up at her. My eyes point fixedly at her breasts, a perfect size, her nipples had, but then, darkness. She forces the blindfold over my head, the elasticated strap snapping at the back of my hair, the dark, fur lined leather blindfold resting neatly over my nose and harness gag. I let out a moan through the gag, frustrated at being denied her body and further denied my much needed climax; my penis still hugging my inner leg, hard as a rock, but I know, the application of the blindfold means her game is just beginning. I move my arms ferociously, pulling against the strap securing them behind my back as hard as I can, but there is no give. I eventually stop, slightly out of breath and flustered, immersed in pitch black, aware of the sound of my heart in my eardrums.
'Keep struggling. I told you, I'm not letting you out, so you may as well keep struggling. You wanted the straitjacket on, so you're going to stay in it. Now I'm going to sit and read my book, and you're going to sit quietly next to me. If you make too much noise, I'll tie you to the bed by your legs and read downstairs. And if you get drool on me or try to lie on me, then I'll hogtie you, as you're so fond of doing to me'.
At this point she grips me penis hard, rubbing it quickly with her hand, but only for a moment or so. She then sits me up, my legs hanging off the bed, slightly subdued by the intense teasing of my erection. I sigh through my gag, at this rate she's never going to let her out. My girlfriend isn't a huge reader but I know when she starts it can take her a while to stop. But surely she won't keep me straitjacketed all night? Surely?
I began to get annoyed with the jacket. It aroused me greatly, but arousal without satisfaction is like an unreachable itch. My girlfriend pulled on the back of my jacket, prompting me to move up the bed and lie next to her at the top. I did so, shuffling with great difficulty, due to not being able to use my arms. Eventually she sits me upright against the bedpost, a pillow propped up for my comfort. I then feel her adjust her own pillows next to me followed by the opening of a book and the rustling of the pages. Silence. I move my arms slightly but only slightly; I know I can't get out, and I was still feeling quite warm, so further struggling would only make me more uncomfortable. The drool through my gag is steady. I feel a few drops land on the jacket and a few make it down my shirt collar onto my chest. I moan a little, trying to get a reaction from her. I hear a page turn. I moan more, trying to move my arms in the process, to which she responds: 'Quiet', and flicks my penis. I jump slightly, and moan further through the ball gag. I fight the straitjacket still, quietly, attempting to get some slack out of the arms. I rub my back against the pillow, in the hopes of perhaps undoing a buckle, but the soft pillow offers no friction, and my straps remain firmly tied. I move the gag around in my mouth a little bit, attempting to push it out of my mouth with my tongue, but the multitude of straps ensure it stays where it is. I bite down on the spongy ball, but it is solid enough that I can't bite through it, and rubbery enough that it simply springs back up to fill my mouth again. I resign myself to sitting and waiting, hoping she'll get bored of her book and give me a little oral. Time seems to slow down when you're deprived of your senses. I could still hear, but there was nothing TO hear, save the occasional turning of a page or cough from my girlfriend. The jacket feels much tighter than it did at first, which is strange, as I would've thought I'd get used to it, but this isn't the case. After minutes I decide to lean to my right on my girlfriends shoulder. She shrugs me off. Again I lean over, this time mumbling through my gag, as if to say 'Come on'. She pushes me aside once again. Frustrated, I forcefully move my entire jacketed torso onto her lap, feeling her book against my neck as I go down.
'Right', she says. She pushes me over to the other side of the bed, and I hear her move towards the other side of the room. I know what's coming. I attempt to muster an apology through my gag, but it sounds like any other noise you make when there's a large ball in your mouth. Without a word I hear her come over to me, grab my legs, and hold them together with her arms. She then sits just above my knees, forcing me down. I plead through muffled cries, but she ignores me, and I feel a rope lasso around my ankles. She loops the rope around several times, and then ties it further between my legs around the rope binding them together, which tightens the rope considerably yet comfortably, and ensures I can't simply slip my legs free. When she is done she says: 'On your belly'. 'Uh-uh', I say, fearful of the coming hogtie but excited at the same time. She forcefully rolls me over. I don't fight it. She lifts my bound legs up towards my back, and with the rest of the rope, securely ties my legs to the crotch strap of my straitjacket. I pull hard but it only serves to make the strap more uncomfortable on my groin, and so I am left even more helpless. All I can do is roll to either of my sides for a little bit more comfort, but it doesn't really help.
I shout loudly through the gag, projecting bits of drool further down my jacket, but she doesn't respond. It is at this point I give up, and simply lie there, my erect penis remaining untouched. I fight the jacket occasionally but it is half hearted, and I remain firmly hogtied, like a prisoner in a maximum security padded cell.
At last, I hear the book close. Excitement washes over me. 'Roll over', I hear, and do so, rolling back on my front, allowing my girlriend access to the ropes securing my legs. She quickly unties them, and tosses the rope to the floor. I feel her undo a buckle on my jacket, and realise she is releasing the crotch strap. I remain still as she does so, my penis standing further to attention. The strap is udnone, and I feel the jacket lighten considerably; motion returns to my shoulders and moving my arms isn't quite as uncomfortable as it was. 'On your back', I hear, and again I do so, feeling the buttons on my jeans opened. Before sliding my jeans off I feel her hand move towards my face, and I am blinded by the light of the room, as the blindfold is removed. I keep my eyes closed for a second, eventually adjusting them to the powerful glow of the light.
'Are you ok?'
I nod.
'Do you want your happy ending?'
I nod.
'Ok. Sit up'.
I do as commanded, and my jeans are removed, followed quickly by my boxers. 'You didn't struggle much. I don't know if you deserve to cum'. I moan loudly, to which I hear my girlfriend sigh. 'Fine. But like I said. I'm not letting you out of the straitjacket. I'm not cleaning up after you either'. I attempt to protest but I feel her take my penis in her hand, and she begins firmly masturbating. Ecstasy grips me, and as my grunting through my gag increases, she steadily increases the speed and motion of her jerks. I begin fighting the straitjacket once more. The feeling of the restraint against me, my arms firmly folded and tied, the feeling of helplessness escalates my pleasure, to which I feel my girlfriend's mouth around my member. A mere 10 seconds later I climax, hard. My body jerks up and my legs slightly raise. I let out a protracted moan, and my girlfriend doesn't remove her mouth either. I relax, letting out a deep sigh through my ball gag, my struggling stopped, sweat dripping down my forehead. I close my eyes. I feel her reach over, and soon the ball gag is removed. My mouth aches, I move my jaw around. She looks at me and says 'Good?'. 'Yeah, it was alright. Thought you said you weren't cleaning up after me?', I respond with a grin. She tuts at me and stands up, 'Yeah well I'm still not letting you out' she says dryly. I sit up, still incapable of freeing my arms from the straitjacket. 'Please?' I say. She looks at me, and kisses me on the lips. I recoil slightly at the taste of my own semen on her mouth, to which she laughs, and says 'Fine. Turn over'.
So she let me out of the jacket, finally, and that was my first straitjacket bondage experience. It was pretty amazing. From then on I rarely went a session without having my girlfriend put me in the jacket, even when we had sex. I put her in it a few times to. She didn't like it too much, but she looked so amazing, and it was fun ordering her around and watching her squirm. The straitjacket remains my favourite item for bondage, and it was really fun to write about. Hopefully some of you reading this can relate, and if not, hopefully I've at least peaked your interest in this unorthodox fetish item. Thanks for reading
PS. Sorry about using the word 'buttocks'. I know it's lame but didn't really want to make the story more vulgar than it has to be. I wanted to write a deep account of what my experience was like, not pornography, so forgive me on that front

### Re: My first Straitjacket bondage experience

Post by NemesisPrime » Sun Sep 30, 2012 10:55 pm

Dear your more than forgiven!
I always wanted to be tied up in a straitjacket but I have no one to secure and gag me sadly!
You are so lucky! *blows kiss*
Everyone speaks in multiple languages...But gag talk is universal and a sock in your mouth is the perfect translator!

### Re: My first Straitjacket bondage experience

Post by SephySJ » Mon Oct 01, 2012 9:28 am

Why thank you!
Unfortunately I'm not with my partner anymore so I also have no one to put me in the jacket
It is a great feeling though! I hope you find someone who is willing to give as good a time as I had!

### Re: My first Straitjacket bondage experience

Post by ropedin » Wed Oct 03, 2012 9:33 pm

Wow, I don't normally comment but this story is... incredible. The writing, the pacing, and the imagery are all just fantastic. Sounds like quite a fun time, strict bondage and a tight gag.

### Re: My first Straitjacket bondage experience

Post by SephySJ » Thu Oct 04, 2012 10:14 am

That's extremely kind of you to say, thank you. 99% true as well, I had to play with some of the dialog a bit but that's pretty much what happened. Was a great experience, I'd recommend a straitjacket to anyone interested in strict bondage!

### Re: My first Straitjacket bondage experience

Post by thedarkdefender » Sat Oct 06, 2012 3:05 am

Fantastic story and wonderfully written!

### Re: My first Straitjacket bondage experience

Post by SephySJ » Tue Oct 09, 2012 5:08 pm

Danke mein Freund!

### Re: My first Straitjacket bondage experience

Post by spiderlads322 » Wed Nov 07, 2012 2:52 pm

Wow. You're so lucky. I've never got to have this kind of experience with my partner when she was around. I love the story too. It's so well written.
Kitten- [kit-n] noun
Young female whom participates in bondage or bondage related activities, while wearing costume cat ears and/or a tail
...

### Re: My first Straitjacket bondage experience

Post by SephySJ » Wed Nov 07, 2012 5:05 pm

Thank you very much! Yeah, I was lucky, but she wasn't exactly huge on putting the jacket on me, even less so about wearing it herself..

### Re: My first Straitjacket bondage experience

Post by skater » Thu Nov 22, 2012 12:58 pm

I have had a view similar expierences with my girl friend. One time her and a friend put me in a straight jacket and hung me form a beam

### Re: My first Straitjacket bondage experience

Post by KennyBoy » Thu Nov 22, 2012 3:09 pm

Very nice story, sounds fun
Do not follow where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.