Postby Devious.agent » Sat Sep 12, 2015 11:16 pm
Part Three:
Sarah pushed her cart around the local hardware store. She was wearing a plaid shirt and the same white short shorts as before. She did not care who was watching or what the 16-year-old clerk thought of her buying twelve feet of thick chain, a pair of bolt cutters, and a padlock with a long shackle.
Later on, Sarah sat in her black, lace underwear on the hard, concrete floor of her basement's laundry room. It was a finished basement, but beyond the threshold of a wooden door lay a dungeon-like room. There she sat wearing her leg shackles with her hands cuffed in front of her. The wristband of keys rested on the corner of the washing machine, where she was doing her chores. The twelve-foot chain, one end locked around an "I" beam above her and the other end locked around her neck like a collar, ensured she would not be leaving until her chores were done.
She sat there scrolling through her phone as the machine rumbled next to her. She smiled as she read about half a dozen different sites' worth of bondage stories. Sarah held in her hand a black Sharpie, and contemplated writing "SLAVE" across her chest, but dismissed it since this was her own private fantasy. No man could please her, and she wanted to please no man. If she experienced pleasure from her own bondage adventures, then that was fine. It was her fantasy to revel in, and no one else's. That is why she took such caution in concealing her habit, at least from her friends and parents. It was fun, though, wondering what kind of reactions one could elicit in a 19-year-old girl carting around duct tape and lengths of chain in a hardware store. Vanilla enough, at least from the perspective of vanilla people. But to the keen eye, she was a complete, self-indulgent pervert.
The dryer buzzed. She squatted down and emptied its contents into a laundry basket, then stood up and began walking toward the door. The steel noose suddenly grabbed hold of her slender neck and violently pulled her back. She felt a twinge of excitement as she thought it was really going to choke her, but not at the height she let the collar dangle. Immediately, she started mentally devising a mechanism that would make her experience that fantasy, but not kill her.
After putting the laundry away upstairs, still locked in her cuffs, Sarah uncuffed her wrists and began drawing out a rough sketch of how the device would work. She would have the noose high enough to strangle herself if she let her weight down on it, but also low enough to regain her footing if she felt a blackout coming. It was extremely dangerous, but also quite thrilling. She had not touched herself all day to prepare for the massive orgasm she expected would come of this bondage adventure.
First, she stripped completely naked, exposing her smooth, pale skin to the cool, almost dungeon-like basement. She adjusted the chain to bring the noose to a height where the "knot" was right at the level of her neck as she stood by it. She did not make the noose narrow enough that she could not conceivably pull her head from it, just in case she would become stuck in it. What she would do was stand with the noose around her neck with the knot right above the back of her head, then lean forward as the thick chain cut into her neck. She could not force it too far, aside from the obvious risk of death, as she would want to hide potential, long-lasting chain marks being pressed into her neck. It wasn't turtleneck season, after all.
Sarah shuffled around on the basement floor, making sure the keys were at least somewhere to be found. It wasn't exactly critical that she would need the keys close by so as long as the noose didn't hold her. She tested it a few times, slipping on and off the chain to make sure it would actually work, but did not choke herself at any point. She would save that for last, when she was fully restrained and felt totally helpless in the clutches of the steel noose.
The moment fast approached when she was ready. She went upstairs and grabbed her pair of police handcuffs, which she slowly clicked shut around her wrists behind her. She let out a satisfying moan as she vainly pulled at the cuffs. She held up her feet one at a time to make sure they were cuffed tightly, too. Sarah then lay on a nearby couch and stuck her feet in the air, kicking them to experience the permanence of the restraints. She wouldn't be going anywhere fast, except to the gallows downstairs.
She pictured walking into a dungeon, complete with torches and medieval torture devices as she made her way carefully down the carpeted steps. After passing through the threshold of the laundry room, she closed the door behind her. There it was, in all its terrifying glory, the noose. She became fixated on it, drawn to its deadly power. She walked around the noose and stood with her back to the wall. She brushed her nude upper body around the cold chain, which gave her a nervous and excited shiver. She looked behind her and tried again to escape her handcuffs, like a desperate prisoner would, but again, nothing.
Sarah slowly pushed her head into the open noose, making sure the "knot" stayed in its rightful place behind her head. It took some wriggling, but she finally made it through. She stood erect, letting the chain dip and gently touch her shoulders. The feeling of cold steel excited her once again. She became wet, and moaned before her mind filled with the idea of half a dozen unforgiving links of chain squeezing her windpipe.
She stood on her tiptoes, her knees turning toward each other as she let a mild wave of ecstasy take over. She flexed her hands and clenched them into a fist. She had been cuffed for so long she no longer felt the pressing of the restraints against her wrists and ankles. She lifted up her left foot and pushed the right ankle cuff up as far as it would go along her long calves. This was sensual enough for her, as most women would have felt having a man stroke their legs with their bare hands.
She was ready. Like usual, she took a deep breath before descending into the final stage of her bondage fantasy. Standing on her tiptoes, she straightened her body and slowly leaned forward. Gravity began working her unsupported body down and the metal chain held firm against her neck. There she felt her breaths become narrower. She felt herself gag a bit, like the first time she had asked the man in her dorm to choke her as she climaxed. That was then, this is now. And she had control over what force she wanted on her neck.
She suddenly felt herself straying too far forward and her legs stepped in to save her, the chain of the leg shackles scraping against the smooth, concrete floor. She stepped back so she was perpendicular with the chain to its attachment around the "I" beam.
"Alright, Sarah. Let's try it again," she said to herself. She leaned forward even more and allowed the chain to cut deeper into her windpipe. She could even just let her legs completely relax, but then she risked blacking out and losing the feeling in her legs.
It was exhilarating. Yet, after a few moments, it grew tiresome and boring. She needed more restraint and less control over the situation. The real thrill with having a powerful guy choke the life out of her was that she could do very little to stop it. With this current setup, she could just pull her head from the noose. It was safe, yes, but didn't give her the thrill of helplessness. She extracted her head from the "trap" and trudged up the steps, wondering what she had missed.
-
Sarah slept that night cuffed spreadeagle to her bed frame. She made sure to keep the wristband with keys on one of her wrists, but also to use the safety cuffs on one wrist as well. She cuffed her legs to the bed using her leg shackles and used the police cuffs on her other wrist.
She awoke with indentations in her wrists and ankles, presumably from trying to twist and turn throughout the night. It was from fantastic, erotic dreams that made her twist, not restlessly fighting her restraints. She thought about sleeping hogcuffed, but then worried about rolling off the bed. A tether to the ceiling would have been nice in her mind.
The next morning, she showered with her restraints on. It made her feel like a prisoner once again, performing daily tasks while in chains. Of course, she would uncuff herself before getting dressed, but would reapply the cuffs once she had put on a shirt or panties. One time, she accidentally answered the door while cuffed when the mail was being delivered. She made up some excuse about babysitting and the kid wanting to play cops and robbers, and the mailman just gave her a look of disbelief.
It would be a hot, 95-degree day out, so Sarah lay naked on a blanket in the cool basement dungeon. She had her right leg chained to a sewage pipe that ran from floor to ceiling in the room. Within arm's reach lay a bowl with a large chunk of ice in it. Inside the chunk of ice was the wristband of keys that would unlock her. She crawled away from the pipe until the chain pulled on her ankle. She decided she would push the bowl away from her, just outside her reach.
She rested on her back and thought again of the pool trap. She loved the theme of it being a race against time and if she would lose, it would mean certain death. Thinking of this, she would idly pleasure herself and allow waves of ecstasy to flow through her body.
After an hour, the ice had melted and the keys lay in a puddle in the bowl. She threw the blanket over the bowl and pulled, spilling water on the floor before her. She was then able to drag the keys to her and unlock herself. It wasn't the most thrilling experience, but you have to experiment to know what you like.
One idea she had about the "deathtrap" revolved around the weight and an inflatable raft she saw in the basement. She thought about inflating it, then poking a hole in it once she was in the middle of her pool. She would only have a few minutes before the raft deflated, allowing the weight to take her down to the bottom.
Nah, she thought.
Another involved her cuffing her ankles and toes, then forming a crotch rope with a length of chain and cuffing her hands behind her, attaching the handcuff chain to the belt. Whatever length of chain was left over would be attached to the weight.
Not bad.
After lunch, Sarah had forged a crotch chain via attaching padlocks at the right point. There was no way it could move, except in the right direction to tease her a bit. She put the handcuffs on her ankles and cuffed her toes together with the thumbcuffs, then cuffed her hands behind her back. She made sure to slip the handcuffs under the chain running through her crotch so she could pull on her hands and maybe trigger something. She escaped relatively instantly.
Next idea, she thought, groaning with disappointment.
The rest of the day went normal, and by Sarah's standard of "normal" it meant walking barefoot in cuffs everywhere. She challenged herself this time by walking around in the more restrictive handcuffs and not the leg shackles. She had a habit of sleeping while cuffed. Sometimes she would test things by cuffing her hands or feet (or both) while she slept, even with her parents in the house. It was always embarrassing to her when she'd forget her legs were bound and had to get up in the middle of the night. She got used to falling down in a hurry.
That night, Sarah went through her nighttime ritual of taking a long, hot bath before bed. She relaxed and stared at her cuffed feet pressed against the other side of the bath. She wondered how deep the water was, how it might be able to trigger the sensation of being surrounded with water like in the pool.
Her handcuffs were set on the sink so she could at least bathe herself properly. Sometimes a break was necessary. She pulled the cuffs off the ledge of the sink and put one cuff around her wrist. She smiled, then turned her body over, splashing water over the side of the tub. She reached behind and cuffed her other hand behind her back.
Staring at the white porcelain of the bottom of the tub, she could barely move. She could draw her feet to touch her buttocks and could grab at them with her hands, but the restraint was so restrictive she was glad she had the ability to roll back over. After about 30 seconds, she ran out of breath and turned over, her handcuffs scraping against the tub. She sat up, water dripping down off her wet hair which covered her breasts.
It's a possibility, Sarah thought.
Before going to bed, she put on her favorite pair of black underwear and locked handcuffs around her wrists and ankles, keeping her hands behind her back. She removed the handcuff key from the wristband of keys and tied it with a string around one of her toes. Then she took her leg shackles and secured one end to her right ankle, then secured the other end to a bedpost. She wouldn't be going anywhere that night.
She drifted off to sleep and into a wild night of fantasy.
The next morning, she did her routine chores again. She then got into her favorite black bikini and stepped into the bathroom. She looked down at the tub and saw it laying there in the empty basin: the menacing hogcuff device, the one with the thumbcuffs linking two pairs of handcuffs together. She knelt down by the tub and placed the plug in the drain. Next, came the bondage.
Sarah stepped in the tub and squatted down. She made sure the wristband of keys was there with her, right under her stomach. It pressed against her soft skin, but at least this meant she knew where the keys were. Because she could not roll around or otherwise pivot her body, she lay flat against the bottom and curled her legs up so that they touched her buttocks. She felt herself getting wet again, but made herself wait. The payoff for escaping this one would be huge.
She pulled the linked-together cuffs around her and placed them on the small of her back. Without seeing what she was doing, Sarah started with her ankles. She cuffed one ankle, then the other. She squeezed on the ratchet until it couldn't tighten any more. She tried pulling her feet apart to test how constrictive the cuffs themselves were against her ankles. Then she cuffed one wrist behind her back, linking it to her bare feet. Her red toenail polish still remained.
Sarah then reached up and turned on the water. She ended up turning the cold water handle all the way so that a torrent of water came pouring through the faucet. Quickly, she reached behind her back and locked the last cuff around her wrist. Click. Now this was water torture! Why hadn't she thought of this sooner? Of course, there were risks to being trapped in a tub while bound, let alone in a handcuff hogtie. She thrashed a bit, trying to wriggle her way into a more comfortable position. She tried rolling from side to side but the narrow bathtub held her.
She had forgotten to gag herself, but she preferred the hyperventilation that came with her orgasms. She smiled and sighed, laying her head down in the inch of water that had quickly accumulated in the tub. She moved her feet around, clicking the cuffs against each other, a noise which turned her on. She wondered if she'd experience an orgasm without even touching herself. To amplify this feeling, she tensed up one of her hands and, with little apprehension, started slapping her own buttocks. She gasped from the self-inflicted pain and pleasure. She did it again and again intermittently, but did not want this to cause her to climax just yet, so she stopped herself. A light, hand-shaped red mark started appearing on her right buttock.
The water level rose, and soon it was past her chin. She became aware of her neck muscles pulling back her head so she wouldn't remain face-down in the tub and drown in short order. In but another minute, it was reaching her lips, and her wriggling turned to actual struggling. It was impulsive, but she was confident in her ability to escape. She used her chin and knees to brace her body as she arched her back, allowing the keys to be freed from underneath her body. She let herself back down, causing the water to swish around the tub and spill out some. The keys drifted to being right in front of her as she stared right at them. She almost became cross eyed looking at the handcuff key, which was almost mocking her. So close, yet so far away.
Sarah felt her neck muscles start to give and her face went under the water. Immediately, she pulled her head back. Shit! She needed to escape fast or actually risk drowning. The tub had a special drain near the rim that prevented water from overflowing to an extent, but that was well above her head and would not save her. She tugged against the cuffs and the unforgiving steel held her. She tried to push the keys around her body by pushing back as hard as she could with her submerged chin, but the force of which was not enough.
She tried rolling over and after several attempts was able to roll onto her left side, her bare skin rubbing against the pool. Her bikini top became undone, exposing her beautiful, wet breasts. She rolled again and found herself on her back. But by this point the water had risen to where her head was completely submerged regardless. She tried pulling forward, as if to raise herself into a kneeling position, but her body was in an awkward position already. She held her breath.
She turned her head around and noticed the plug keeping the water in the tub. Attached to this plug was a tiny chain. Immediately, she began squirming toward this chain, finally grabbing a hold of it with her mouth. She pulled, her lips like vice grips around the tiny chain. The plug gave and water started pouring down the drain. Yes! she thought. Now all she had to do was grab for the keys---
As that thought crossed her mind, she looked up toward the drain and saw the current take the wristband of keys with it.
Oh my God...Sarah's eyes widened in horror as she saw the keys disappear into the drain. They held for a second by the rubber wristband, but the current was too strong and it, helped by the force of the faucet water, swept the keys away.
The water drained, leaving Sarah topless and cuffed in the empty basin. She was in such shock that she felt still for a moment. She could then feel her cold body tremble in fear.
"FUCK!!!" she screamed and repeated in sequence. She tried kicking, but her bonds held. She was stuck, tightly handcuffed and hogtied by the restrictive steel, imprisoned by a foot and a half of porcelain walls, a victim of her own devices. She tugged mightily against the cuffs, but they wouldn't budge. It was impossible. She was absolutely helpless.
Then she began to cry.
To be continued...