## Spring Break Selfbondage F/Solo

Post by Devious.agent » Tue Sep 01, 2015 5:24 pm

I had posted this story in a different section, but I thought it would be more fitting to put it here.
Enjoy.
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Sarah was a high school senior from Illinois. She had attended a private school her full four years and after she turned 18, she had decided on which college she wanted to go to, and how she wanted to live out of state to explore what was beyond her familiar realm. She was 5' 9", slender but not skinny, and had ample breasts and shapely hips. She had pale, white skin and black hair that she often left straight or slightly curly and never let it go much past her shoulders. She had her share of boyfriends throughout high school, but none of them really did it for her. She was intelligent and quiet, but not shy in the slightest.
From her high school days, Sarah had been fascinated by escapology and escape artists. She read up voraciously on Harry Houdini, on how he would escape sometimes dozens of different metal restraints: handcuffs, leg irons, chains, padlocks. It was something that consumed her, but subconsciously she never found the impulse to share her special interest with anyone else, not even a best friend. It wasn't until after she left for college that it wasn't being an escape artist that she was so passionately into: it was the urge, the thrill of being tied up with heavy, inescapable restraints and being challenged to escape them.
Because Sarah would not tell a soul about her private fantasies of being left alone somewhere, chained hand and foot, she considered doing it herself. She would practice in her bedroom with a pair of those toy metal handcuffs with a safety catch, should sudden escape become necessary. The toy cuffs were small enough to conceal in any part of her room, in case her parents would wonder why a pair of handcuffs were laying out in the open. She would relish every moment of the steel bracelets holding her, every "click" of the cuffs as she closed them one at a time behind her back, or whatever position she tried. She often found her eyes rolling back into her head from the unexpected feeling of ecstasy, of losing control.
Soon, she acquired another pair of handcuffs, this time the real deal, with a push pin locking system to keep the cuffs from closing any tighter. She would wait like usual for her parents to depart for the day to handcuff herself to the metal frame of her bed. It was exhilarating, and soon she found she became wet from the feeling of being bound to her bed helplessly. She would sometimes take the real handcuffs and apply them to her ankles, tightening them as much as possible and then locking them with the push pin mechanism to keep them from damaging her tendons and ligaments.
She would steal strips of duct tape from a roll in her dad's garage and use them to cover her mouth. She muffled her bondage-induced moaning with the grey tape and even thought about buying a formal gag. It was hard to ignore seeing "light" bondage equipment like ballgags and handcuffs being portrayed in the Fifty Shades of Grey-themed ads she would stumble upon online. It was here where she typed into her search bar, "How to tie yourself up." And this is where she descended into her private realm of self-bondage.
Sarah learned about all the different techniques, like rope ties and freezing a key in a block of ice, allowing the user their freedom upon it melting. She liked the permanence and aesthetic of using metal cuffs. She marveled at the use of medieval-type restraints some models were wearing. She stuck to what she could afford, and what could be readily hidden, so she purchased a pair of police leg shackles with keys that happened to be in an antique mall case one day. "It's for a...a school play," she nervously told the clerk.
One thing that captured her attention was the idea of breathplay, of adding another element of suspense to her bondage. It was thrilling enough avoiding exposure and being caught, especially by her parents, but it was even more intriguing making it a race against time before your air supply ran out. She found articles about nooses and plastic bags and even a small niche of underwater bondage, all tantalizing but impractical for what she was trying to accomplish, and conceal from her parents. She kept those thoughts in the back of her mind for a later day, when discovery would not be as much of an issue.
Sarah liked the sensation she felt from the cold metal cuffs encircling her bare ankles. Sometimes, she would do normal house chores wearing the leg shackles while there was no one else in the house. As she sat on her white carpeted floor in her ankle cuffs and white shorts that barely covered her buttocks, she drew one of her cuffed ankles toward her and held that cuff in her right hand. She gave a wry smile and wondered how helpless she could make herself if she was creative enough.
Removing her shirt and leaving her in just her short shorts and a white bra, she lay down on the floor on her stomach, her bare feet outstretched behind her. She leaned up and reached onto her bed and felt for her handcuffs, the real ones. She slid them from off the top of her bed and used her thumb to push the ratchet through and around, opening one of the cuffs. She cuffed her left wrist and then swung her arm around her back, grabbing a hold of the other cuff with her right hand.
She exhaled, knowing exactly what she was going to do. She withdrew her legs so her heels touched her buttocks, and grabbed the chain linking her ankle cuffs together. She felt wet with anticipation. Sarah pulled on the chain and took the open cuff with her right hand, twisting it around the ankle cuffs chain. She took a deep breath before pushing the ratchet of the right cuff around and maneuvering her right wrist to fit inside it. She grabbed a hold of the right cuff with her left hand and started applying pressure to the ratchet.
Click...click...click...click. She slowly pushed the ratchet in, making its grip around her wrist tighter and tighter. A few more clicks and she had achieved what she had wanted: a handcuff hogtie, or hogcuff. Sarah let her leg muscles relax and suddenly the weight and movement of her legs attempting to straighten pulled her arms back and her chest up off the ground. She gasped, then smiled and laughed at the realization that she was really tied up tight.
She would relax one leg, causing it to pull on the long chain and bring her other leg up to her buttocks. She would alternate like this for a couple minutes and then grabbed both of her cuffed ankles with her fingers, feeling her bare feet and exposed toes.
I wonder what they could make for those? she thought as she flexed her toes whose nails she had just painted a bright red. It was something to consider for another day when if her stash got discovered by her parents, she at least would not have to explain a smaller set of cuffs meant for fingers or toes.
Her parents. The thought flashed through her mind. She looked up at her alarm clock and realized she would have about an hour before they would get home from work. Her eyes widened as she realized she forgot to grab the key before putting herself in this predicament. She remembered where the keys were: right above her on the top of the bed. Or at least she hoped. So she grabbed the comforter draped over the side of her bed and began pulling as hard as she could. In a few seconds, which felt like an eternity for the young Sarah, she felt the keys landing on her bare back. She frantically grabbed for them and within about 30 seconds, she had freed her hands from the bonds and, rolling over onto her back and sitting up, quickly worked to get the cuffs off her ankles, which had become tender and red from the shackles pulling on her delicate, pale skin. She attempted to rub out the indentations, but found it more practical to grab a pair of ankle-high socks from a drawer and slip them on. She slipped on a college-branded t-shirt, almost forgetting she was half-naked.
Still sitting on the floor, she heard the sound of a car door slam quickly followed by her mother opening the front door downstairs. Sarah saw the restraints to her right and quickly slid all of them under her bed and covering the gap with the comforter. I was just making my bed and doing my chores, she would say if her mom got suspicious. Impulsively, Sarah looked behind her and lifted up her left foot, just to make sure she had not left her ankles cuffed, a habit and feeling she had become so accustomed to that she often forgot she was wearing them.
As she made her bed, she glanced down at the spot where the cuffs once rested. She wet her lips.
Someday, she thought, I'll do this for real. The thought passed through her mind as her mom opened her bedroom door and asked how her day at school went.
-
Before long, Sarah was off to college and had just celebrated her 19th birthday in the spring. Soon, she would be home for break, which she had told her parents she would be spending it in Florida with her friends. Or so they thought. Knowing their daughter would be out of town, they decided on a vacation out west to Colorado, someplace far away from the high heat that was baking the Midwest this time of year.
Sarah stood in the doorway of her parents' two-story home and waved goodbye as they pulled their car out of the driveway and sped down the road of their subdivision. She stuck her head out and watched them round the corner and out of the neighborhood. In her eagerness, she pulled back into the house, slamming the wooden door behind her.
She tiptoed barefoot on the hardwood floors though the empty house, just to make sure there was no unexpected company. She locked all the doors and windows and closed the blinds, letting the air conditioning pick up the slack. She ran up the carpeted stairwell leading up to her room down the hallway on the second floor.
She walked into her room and approached her school backpack laying on the floor. She picked up the bag, which of course felt heavy from the plethora of textbooks she kept inside, but there was something distinctly about how it weighed this time, as if one particularly heavy item was within and not just the mass of many other items. She set the bag on her bed and opened it, peering inside and reaching in to feel around to make sure its contents were all accounted for.
Sarah made her way to her dresser and opened the second drawer from the top. Among the other athletic wear inside was a swimsuit, a black bikini. She grabbed the top and bottom of the suit and tossed them onto her bed. She checked the window to her right and walked over to shut the blinds, foiling the exploits of any peeping toms.
She unbuckled her belt and pulled down her pair of short shorts, revealing a pair of red panties. She then pulled off her t-shirt and threw it on the floor next to her shorts. She then unhooked her matching red bra and let it fall down past her shoulders, letting out her ample, perky breasts. Sarah tossed the bra on the bed behind her. She noticed her nipples pointing, either from the coolness of the air conditioning, or something more...erotic. She pulled down her panties and stepped out of them, leaving them right next to her shorts.
Sarah stood in front of her mirror and flashed a confident smile, turning around to admire her figure. She turned and reached for the bikini bottoms, which she pulled up and adjusted around her crotch and buttocks. Her bikini top followed, with her pushing her ample breasts into each cup as she adjusted it to fit her just right. She let out a deep breath of anticipation. She walked around to the side of her bed, picked up the abnormally heavy backpack, and headed out her door.
Months ago, while in college, Sarah had a one-night-stand with a guy, whom she asked to squeeze her throat during sex. The sensation she felt took hold of her, and soon after was thinking of ways to trigger that, without dying of course. She would spend nights researching ways to combine this with her self-bondage. Plastic bags were an option, but were extremely dangerous and not something that should be done without a partner. Nooses, too, were ruled out, as she did not want to risk rumors going around that a trip to a hospital was a result of something more than just a "misadventure."
Then she remembered the exploits of Harry Houdini, whom she still poked around on the internet to find articles about his amazing, albeit staged, escapes. She read about his water torture cell escape, his milk can escape, and his escape from being chained and locked inside a box that had been thrown into a river. Obviously it would be difficult explaining the presence of a milk can, let alone a big, glass box with padlocks to be filled with hundreds of gallons of water. The third option tantalized her. If she could rig something that she could escape from while also achieving restrictive bondage and the peril of running out of breath, it would be perfect.
Sarah opened the back sliding door of the house and closed it behind her. She set the backpack down on the concrete surface and sat down. She looked behind her and opened up the bag, from which she extracted her original handcuffs and leg shackles. She dangled them before her, confident that her neighbors could not see her past the seven-foot wooden fence. She set down the cuffs and pulled out one-by-one various other items from the bag: a wristband with the keys, a length of heavy chain about eight feet long, and three heavy-duty padlocks. From the bag she also pulled another pair of police-issue handcuffs and a set of thumbcuffs, both of which were acquired from a specialty store out by her college town.
She laid out each of the items neatly to her left. She admired her little collection of bondage gear, which she hoped to add to once she moved out of her parents' house. She then reached into her backpack and extracted the reason why it had weighed as much as it did. With both hands, she set beside her a 20 pound cement block. She scooted the block along the concrete walkway by the poolside. The block, about eight inches in height, width, and length, also featured a thick eyelet protruding from its top so that it may serve as an anchor for a small boat. She took a heavy padlock and ran the open shackle though the eyelet.
Sarah placed her hands on the ground on each side of her. She scooted herself forward and stuck her feet in the pool, kicking the water and looking at the same, red toenails. She reached for the wristband with keys and counted each key twice so that she could match each one with its corresponding lock. She also tested each one to ensure they would function properly. She put the wristband on her left wrist and scooted back so that her feet were resting on the concrete.
Now, it was bondage time. Sarah picked up a pair of the police-issue handcuffs and stretched out to reach her feet. She placed one ankle in a cuff, tightening the ratchet around it as far as it would go. Then she applied the other cuff to her free ankle. Click...click...click went the cuff as she secured her bare feet together. She then took the pair of thumbcuffs and applied them to her big toes, tightening them enough as they were meant for thumbs just as the handcuffs around her ankles were meant for wrists. No way she could move outside of scooting around.
Sarah took the eight-foot chain and secured it to the handcuffs around her ankles using the first padlock. Click. She then took that chain and secured the other pair of handcuffs to it, stringing the shackle of the second padlock through a link of chain and ensuring it would not move along its length. She was curious how her hands would be placed when they were locked in cuffs behind her. She made sure the wristband with keys was still there before placing that wrist in the handcuffs. As she closed that cuff, she looked up and around to make sure nobody was wondering why they might have heard the sound of handcuffs being used. She shrugged it off and went back to work.
She brought her cuffed ankles underneath her so that she was now in a kneeling position. She felt the handcuffs dig deep into her ankles from the weight her body was putting on them. Sarah felt herself get wet again as she gripped around the thick, shiny chain and felt for the other handcuff. She took a deep breath and, taking a second to savor each click of the handcuff, closed the last cuff tight around her wrist. She pulled her hands up behind her and felt the unforgiving tug of steel chain securing her handcuffs to the cuffs around her ankles. She also felt a good foot or so of excess chain dangling past where her handcuffs were secured.
"Alright, Sarah. You can do this," she whispered to herself. She made sure to feel one last time for the wristband with keys before going ahead with the final step with her self-bondage. Can't be too careful, right? She had read all the horror stories, of people who had died in self-bondage predicaments, no matter how secure the bondage was. She had all this in mind when she looked to her left and saw what to her was an abyss of crystal-clear water about six feet deep, just enough to go over her head a few inches. To her, it would be enough to tease her that a breath of fresh air was so close yet so far away.
She shook off the nervousness and intrusive thoughts. Sarah carefully scooted toward the cement block with the third padlock still sitting open around the eyelet. She scooted back towards it, the metal cuffs digging more into her ankles. She grabbed hold of the padlock, using the weight to balance herself as she reached down to her ankles and threaded the padlock shackle around the short chain of her ankle cuffs and through the eyelet in the weight.
Click. She felt the finality in that one, the one that meant she could not move without the keys undoing her first. The one that meant her fate was tied to her unlocking her cuffs in time or else. The one that meant no turning back. She breathed in nervously as she knew the next step of the plan was right next to her. She felt once again for her keys and found them there like she expected. She could feel her nipples protrude through the black swimsuit top, her arousal close to peaking at this moment.
Slowly, she used her whole body to turn with the weight between her feet so that her back was toward the pool. She pulled at the chains once again to make sure everything felt secure. She used her bottom to push the weight past the concrete surface and inch-by-inch hanging it precariously over the edge. She felt her eyes roll back into her head as she took a deep breath and pushed the weight all the way over. The suddenness of the weight taking down her 110 lb. frame almost took her breath away as her long hair flew up and then disappeared under the water with Sarah.
The weight took Sarah right to the bottom in a fraction of a second. She quickly straightened her body so she could stand on the weight for a second, then attempt to push off it with her feet. She was immediately held down by the short chain of the cuffs around her ankles and felt her heart flutter and her mind fill with the fantasy of helplessness. She twisted for a second to test her bonds, then got to work.
First, she felt for the handcuff key and unlocked one cuff, then wrestled away the other one. The cuffs sank down to the bottom of the pool along with the length of chain. Sarah then squatted down and reached around to take off the thumbcuffs around her toes. She wanted to save the actual saving act for last so that she may add tension and perhaps intensity to her orgasm. The thumbcuffs, as finicky and stubborn as they could be, managed to open. She straightened her body dropped them right in front of her.
Last were the ankle cuffs, which were biting into her tendons. Should have double-locked them, damn it! she thought. She squatted down again and there felt the first pain of oxygen deprivation, of her lungs screaming for a breath. No, no! Not now! she thought. She was athletic enough but not exactly ready for an extended breath hold. She held up her keys and looked for the one to unlock her ankle cuffs. What she realized suddenly was she had just bought those cuffs and had not yet included the key for them in the key ring. Fuck! she screamed in her mind. She pulled on the ratchet of each cuff but they would not budge. Fuck, fuck, fuck! She looked up above and saw sunlight penetrating through the water's surface, reflecting prisms on the bottom of the pool. She wondered if this would be the last thing she would ever see.
Then it hit her. She still possessed the key to unlock the padlock securing her ankle cuffs to the weight below her. She grabbed the lock and tested each padlock key one by one. The last key inserted smoothly and she turned it, releasing the shackle and freeing her cuffed feet from the eyelet. She immediately floated to the surface and her head broke through the water. She took the most relieved, satisfying breath as she swam with her arms to stay afloat. She was still cuffed at the ankle and was borderline hyperventilating. She was panicked, but alive.
Suddenly, she heard the familiar noise of a car door slamming shut.
"Oh, my God," she said in a hushed voice. She looked below her and at her cuffed ankles. She knew it was her parents. She knew they were oblivious to her bondage interests. She knew if they caught her like this in the pool, even with just the handcuffs around her ankles, they would suspect something. And that would be enough to end it all. She used her upper body strength to lift herself out of the pool, then onto the concrete so she could turn around and face the pool. At least she could keep her cuffed feet in the water to try and hide them.
But what if they needed her for something? Her eyes widened as she grabbed for her backpack, spilling out a small cardboard box belonging to the cuffs around her ankles. She picked it up and felt something slide inside. She opened the box and pulled out the two keys that came with the cuffs. She turned back around and pulled her feet toward her, her hands shaking as she grabbed the cuffs and nervously inserted the key into the slot. She turned it, and off came one cuff. She looked up as if to thank God before unlocking the final cuff. She then tossed the keys and the cuffs into the pool, then hurried to put the handcuff box back in her backpack, along with any other bondage gear that was laying out.
She shoved the bag to the side, out of a direct line of sight from the sliding door. She then crawled backward on her knees and slid back into the pool right as her dad opened the back door and saw her with her arms resting on the side of the pool. He smiled.
"You couldn't wait to get in there!" he said.
"Yeah, it's kinda hot," replied Sarah.
"Alright, just remember to always keep the house locked up while you're back here. Just forgot my phone and had to come back to get it."
"Ah, yeah. That would be bad."
He smiled back at her before turning back toward the door.
"Have fun," he said, before shutting the door and walking away.
Sarah faced the door as long as she felt it was necessary so if her father came back, he wouldn't see her fishing something out of the pool. She looked down at the bottom of the pool and saw the weight, the chains, the cuffs all strewn about. It was a miracle such shiny things didn't grab anyone's attention. She sighed, then it all came back to her. The thrill, the emotion, the ecstasy.
The next thing she knew she was up in her bedroom, laying wet (and in more than one way) on her bed and soaking her sheets. She cared not that the door was open. She could not wait. She reached down the front of her bikini bottoms and pleasured herself into the most explosive climax she had ever felt.
It was only Monday, she knew, and spring break ran through the weekend. She had other ideas in store.

### Re: Spring Break Selfbondage F/Solo

Post by Gunnychicken » Wed Sep 02, 2015 1:26 pm

Hm, very nice. Can't wait for the continuation.

### Re: Spring Break Selfbondage F/Solo

Post by Devious.agent » Wed Sep 02, 2015 6:41 pm

Thanks. I'll upload the next one when it's ready. Right now it's on my Deviantart.

### Re: Spring Break Selfbondage F/Solo

Post by Devious.agent » Tue Sep 08, 2015 10:58 am

Part Two:
Sarah lay there on her bed in her bikini, almost in a daze from the intense amount of pleasure she got from her first adventure. It was a day to remember, even though she spent all of two hours doing it. She gazed up at the ceiling and saw the surface of the water as she had seen it from when she was chained to the weight. Then she remembered she had some cleanup to do outside. She snapped out of her trance, got up from her bed, and left her room.
Back out by the poolside, Sarah was diving back into her pool, retrieving her bondage toys from the bottom. She found the two sets of handcuffs, still attached to the long chain, and the pair of thumbcuffs. She retrieved her keys from the bottom before deciding on how to retrieve the 20 lb. weight still on the bottom. She decided she would grab it by the eight-foot chain and hoist it out of the pool. It would be great to design a trap where it just pulled you right to the bottom before you could escape, she thought. She then thought it would be stimulating going back down there to get "inspiration" for her next act, so she took her leg shackles, locked them around her bare feet (as she was still in her bikini), and dove into the pool.
She swam down to the weight and found the open padlock. She grabbed onto it, then swung down so her feet touched the bottom. Making sure she had the wristband of keys, she took the open shackle and closed it around the long chain of the leg shackles. She then swam up and felt the tug of the weight against her ankles, but only after her head had broken through the water, albeit barely so. She could breathe, although the water still was up to her ears and she knew she could not maintain this forever.
But the effect of being chained down there again was exhilarating. Many of the old emotions returned. She was turned on again by being so helpless and held in place by the unforgiving metal bondage. Sarah let herself sink down to the bottom and pretended she was in real danger of drowning as she tugged on the weight, as if her wiry muscles could lift it out of the pool. She realized it did not have the same effect of helplessness once she saw the keys still attached to her wrist, so she removed them and reluctantly tossed them as hard as she could behind her toward the other end of the pool. It made her feel like she was really trapped down there.
An idea came to her right there and then. It was not water related, but that didn't mean she didn't want to try this again when she had more elaborate equipment to work with. She remembered her experience with the hogtie and almost being discovered during her first attempt at self-bondage. It wasn't the most restrictive tie you could do with those restraints, but it was enough to get her going. She remembered the pull each cuff had on her limbs, of how she had to be judicious about which of her limbs she was going to relax or withdraw so it wouldn't pull on her cuffed wrists.
She remembered that her thumbcuffs could hold something more than just her thumbs or toes together. She would take her two pairs of handcuffs and lock them in each end of the thumcuffs by their short chains. Then she would hogtie herself in the most restrictive hogtie imaginable, and would writhe about as the steel bit into her wrists and ankles. It was so tantalizing that she could almost feel herself cum again in the pool.
Possessed by this idea, she sank back down the the bottom and began crawling toward the end of the pool toward her keys. Each inch she crawled felt like a mile because of the 20 lb. weight pulling on her ankles. She hoped the corners of the cement weight weren't damaging the pool as it scraped along its bottom. She knew this but thought only of acting out her next bondage fantasy.
Eventually she reached the keys after surfacing a couple of times in between to catch her breath. She unlocked the cuffs around her ankles, then kicked her way to the surface. After about ten minutes, she mustered enough strength to hoist the weight out of the pool, banging against the rim before situating it right by the poolside. Sara rested her arms on the poolside and gazed at the heavy weight, wondering what other fantasies it might become a part of.
Back in her house, she had toweled off and was walking around the living room, still in her bikini. She sat on her couch and looked down at the red marks the cuffs had left in her ankles. She walked into the kitchen and gathered an empty cooler and filled it with ice cubes. She placed the cooler between the couch and the coffee table across from it and stuck her feet in it, hopefully to get rid of the swelling. Sarah opened the laptop resting on the coffee table and logged into Facebook. There she saw an update of her parents having stopped by a restaurant about two hours away.
"Enjoying the food at so-and-so's." Sarah could have cared less about the name, just that it was long enough away that her parents would have to drive for two hours to be back home. It was perfect timing. Closing the laptop, she looked at her feet in the ice and wondered if this was how people in cement shoes felt. Now that was a wild fantasy, and something Sarah would have to be incredibly brave to try. Maybe, she thought.
Sarah walked back into her room carrying her cuffs and the wristband with keys. She placed the wristband around the bottom left bed post on her white, metal frame bed. Then she placed the two pairs of handcuffs evenly apart from each other on the bed and set the pair of thumbcuffs between them. She held her chin with her fingers, thinking if it was really possible to try this without hurting herself. She had seen and now experienced the hogcuff, but nothing like what she was planning.
Realizing she was completely home alone and with the bikini now chafing her skin, she took off the swimsuit and tossed it by the doorway. She got on top of the bed and immediately cuffed her right ankle in one of the handcuffs.
Wait, she thought. Probably would be easier this way. She took the keys and undid the cuff, then placed the keys back on the same bedpost. She grabbed one pair of handcuffs by the chain with one hand and the thumbcuffs in the other, then secured one end of the thumbcuffs around the chain. She repeated the process with the other pair of handcuffs.
Sarah held up her creation in front of her. Four cuffs, with not even a foot of distance between the ones that would link her hands and feet together. It looked menacing. It looked restrictive. It turned her on.
She could not wait as she started with the ankles. She locked each cuff around her bare ankles as tight as they would go. She made sure to double-lock her cuffs to make sure they didn't bite in any more than she wanted. Sarah then spun herself around on the bed and lay flat on her stomach, grabbing the handcuffs and pulling her feet toward her buttocks. Then she felt the urge to be bound and gagged, so she scooted off the bed and hopped to her sock drawer and pulled out one of her ankle socks, which she stuffed in her mouth. She didn't want to tape it shut in case she had trouble breathing. Her tongue felt every rough fiber from the sock as her mouth salivated around it.
Now back on her stomach, Sarah once again pulled the handcuffs towards her free hands. Her nipples became rock hard at the idea of , being tightly cuffed and gagged naked on her bed. Wouldn't this be something to surprise a potential lover with? She locked one cuff around her left wrist and, inhaling deeply through her nose in anticipation, locked the last cuff around her right wrist. Click.
Ecstasy overcame her. She felt her legs pull back on her wrists even tighter than before. Her shoulders flexed backwards at the weight and force of her legs. Her hands became red from the blood flow being cut off. She felt the unforgiving steel clasped around her bare ankles and tried to pull at the ratchet, but no give.
She rolled onto her side and heard the clicking of the cuffs hitting each other, the short chains from each set passing through the narrow holes of the thumbcuffs. She was in heaven. Try as she might, she could not pull her hands free from the cuffs. She was proud of her workmanship and flexibility. If only her bonds permitted her to pleasure herself, but she could not reach around even with her long fingers. She felt the cold sheets and the cool air pass over her naked body as she writhed on her bed in the restrictive hogtie.
An hour passed. A grin had almost frozen to her face from the unparalleled satisfaction of her bondage. She closed her eyes and fantasized about the pool again, of how she might incorporate a position like this in a perilous, underwater environment. Definitely plan ahead for that one, she thought.
After a while, she noticed the sun begin to set and felt that despite how wonderful the bondage felt, it was time to let go. After all, she had a life outside of self-bondage, as much as she hated that thought. She felt for the wristband with keys and realized it was not there like usual. Her eyes widened in a panic as she wondered where the keys were. She let loose a mild scream through her gag, but was relieved when she saw the wristband draped over the same bedpost from earlier. She rolled her eyes, blaming herself for forgetting.
Sarah rolled over once toward the foot of her bed, careful not to roll too far or fall off the bed and risk injury. Or worse, having no access to the keys. It was a unique and frightening challenge. She had not envisioned how hard it would be to grab keys off a post with all four limbs secured behind her, and so closely together. She twisted her body around so she could feel the bar of her bed frame with her fingers, and gradually felt her way toward the wristband.
Gotcha! she thought when she lifted the band from the post. Suddenly, she felt the band slip from her fingers and fall to the floor, a consequence of her handcuffs cutting off some circulation. She held back from gasping in horror, remembering she had the sock gag in her mouth, which she could very easily inhale and choke on. She looked over the bed and stared at the keys now laying on the floor.
Goddamnit, goddamnit, goddamnit! she thought. It was the reverse of her first hogcuffing predicament: her on the top, keys on the bottom. It was a good two feet from her bed down to the floor, a negligible distance but not safe if your're hogtied. She whimpered for a minute, realizing her stupidity. Fuck! she thought, burying her pretty face in her blanket.
It was then that she realized how helpless she was. She became wet and her breathing and heart rate quickened. It was like she was about to climax. She could feel her body convulse in ecstasy against her bonds, which now cut deeper into her already tender wrists and ankles. Going to need an ice bath for those!
She held back, however. She knew the risk of climaxing with a gag in her mouth. She closed her eyes and braced herself for the fall she would have to endure to get the keys. But then she came up with a plan. To reduce the risk for injury, she rolled onto her back and began pulling as hard as she could at her blankets, bunching them up underneath her body, then pushing them along with her body toward the side of her bed.
Once the blankets had fallen to the floor, she would at least have something below her to cushion her fall. She glanced to her left at the pile of blankets on the floor. Here goes nothing, she thought. She rolled to her left, tumbling and then falling like a rock off the side of her bed. The plan worked. She landed on her side on the cushion of blankets, albeit an imperfect landing, letting out a muffled "Ow" through her gag.
She wrestled herself from the blanket and rolled on her side toward the keys, which she felt with her toes. She gripped the wristband with her toes, then transferred it to her half-numb fingers. Freedom.
In a matter of moments, she had released her hands and feet one at a time from the cuffs. She sat up and tossed the wicked assortment of cuffs to the side. She massaged her raw ankles and wrists, then felt overcome by ecstasy, followed by a savage orgasm.
Moments later, after having applied a cold, wet washcloth to her wrists and submerging her feet in ice cubes, she became lost in thought. Dressed in athletic shorts and a soccer shirt, she opened her laptop and started typing out plans for her next self-bondage adventure.

### Re: Spring Break Selfbondage F/Solo

Post by 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...

### Re: Spring Break Selfbondage F/Solo

Post by Lake Lover » Sun Sep 13, 2015 6:36 am

Sick, horrifying, exciting, masterfully written story!

### Re: Spring Break Selfbondage F/Solo

Post by Sealherlips » Sun Sep 13, 2015 2:37 pm

Can't wait to find out what happens next.

### Re: Spring Break Selfbondage F/Solo

Post by Devious.agent » Tue Sep 15, 2015 7:25 pm

Hey, thanks guys I'm working hard to top this one.

### Re: Spring Break Selfbondage F/Solo

Post by Gunnychicken » Fri Sep 18, 2015 5:19 am

great like the last few parts.

### Re: Spring Break Selfbondage F/Solo

Post by bondagebabe97 » Tue Oct 06, 2015 1:40 am

Please continue this story. I love it.

### Re: Spring Break Selfbondage F/Solo

Post by Devious.agent » Tue Oct 13, 2015 9:27 am

I accidentally deleted Part 4 so I'm re-starting it. I've been busy, which is why it hasn't seen the light of day yet. I made a stupid mistake and lost the file, so now I know what it's like to be Sarah and foolishly lose the keys.

### Re: Spring Break Selfbondage F/Solo

Post by Devious.agent » Tue Oct 13, 2015 8:50 pm

Part Four:
Sarah lay there hogcuffed in the tub, cold water pouring down the drain with droplets mockingly splashing back in her face. She could not believe her own foolishness and arrogance, a victim of her own devices. It was incredibly stupid of her to think she could escape a position like that with no ability to roll around and grab the keys. At least with a pool, as open and perilous as it was, she could roll around and try to find the keys with her fingers.
This was a bathtub, however, a porcelain prison which kept her body in a position where even the strongest core muscles could not allow her to flip over. Sarah's body resembled a triangle shape, with her shoulders being pulled back and her arms outstretched and connected to her feet, which touched her perfect ass. She pulled on her feet to try and get the cuffs to slacken a bit, but all that did was relocate the part the steel pinched on by a couple of centimeters. Red indentations started cutting into her slender ankles. No sandals for a while, she thought.
Sarah tried jerking her shoulder and hip muscles to make her body at least roll over in a more comfortable position. She tried to take the weight of her body off of her breasts, but there was nothing doing. Every time she gained enough momentum to even lift her body off the bottom of the tub, her limbs would it the rim, the cuffs smacking the sides and making a lot of noise. She let out a frustrated, angry sigh.
She thought about the different things she could use as a lock pick. She knew her bikini top had fallen off, so maybe the straps would do. Or even the tiny chain that was connected to the plug. She felt the side of the cuffs and recognized the unmistakable shape of the keyhole. At least that was within reach. Unfortunately, even if she were able to somehow access those materials and pinch them into the shape of a lock pick, the keyholes were the ones with the tiny metal rod in the middle that only permitted a key to slide inside and turn. I'll never do this again, she thought. Depends if I survive, she said. She had another incentive to live.
At least she wasn't gagged. Sarah was grateful she had not taped or otherwise filled her mouth with something, as it may be her only tool to escape this peril. It had saved her--and also quite possibly doomed her--from her pulling the plug earlier. As the cuffs tightened and her body started cramping up, she started panting from the pain, whimpering and feeling tears form in her eyes. Yet she was determined not to let this get her down.
She could count on two things being a result of this bondage: either she dies and her parents find her half-naked and bound body, or she lives and has a hell of a water bill to pay. She preferred the latter option, so she wriggled her body toward the open drain with the faucet water still pouring down it. There she saw it: the green wristband, its loop sticking out of the drain right before her. She gasped with excitement, "Yes!"
She inched toward the drain and saw that the wristband had held up the keys from being taken down. She knew she had but one shot at this. She stuck out her tongue and gauged just how plausible this plan was. Plausible or not, it was something she had to do. She stuck her tongue down the drain and immediately it came in contact with years' worth of grime and a multitude of fluids that had gone down it that she'd rather not think about. She squeezed her face and then spat, trying to get the bitterness out.
She made another attempt at it. She stuck her tongue down the drain and found the wristband's familiar coiled rubber texture. She stuck the tip of her tongue in the middle of the wristband so she could pull up with her head and quickly grab it with her teeth. Focusing with the concentration of a martial artist meditating under a cold waterfall, she braced against the torrent of faucet water that now doused the back of her head. It was an experience she would never forget, as much as she'd like to.
Slowly, the wristband came over the rim of the drain, exposing it just enough for her top teeth to grab hold of it. Releasing her tongue from its position, she quickly latched on to the top of the wristband, holding it between her teeth like a wolf holding on to meat. She wriggled back, ensuring that the keys were far away from ever going back down the drain. Here came the second-most challenging part: transferring the keys from her mouth to her hands.
Sarah thought about tossing the keys backward by cocking back her neck, but she could not guarantee the landing spot nor if it was even possible for her neck to do that. Even if she could launch the keys back, it would take some skill and some luck not to accidentally toss the keys out of the tub.
Since the tub was long enough, she hatched another plan. She would scoot back as far as she could, drop the keys, then scoot forward and try to reach around her waist with her cuffed hands and retrieve the keys. She practiced by first attempting to reach to either side with her bound hands, which were further held back by the cuffs that linked them to her bare feet. Luckily she was thin enough and could thus reach around her waist and have her fingertips touch the bottom of the tub.
She scooted back as far as she could, her knees touching the end of the tub. Then, she dropped the keys from her mouth. She took extra care sliding forward so as to not get the keys stuck under her body or, worse yet, pushing them further toward the drain. When she reached the midpoint of the tub, she felt the jagged, cold keys press into her side. She struggled and strained to reach to her right to grab the keys and there she had the eureka moment. She had the keys, and in a short time, she had her hands unlocked. She got rid of the ankle cuffs as if they were a snake biting her.
Sarah sat in that tub with her arms wrapped around her knees, looking off into some corner of the room and realizing how close she came to death. She would not make that mistake again. She would make sure if she did something that risky again, it would be under much more interesting circumstances.
Sarah stood up from the tub, grabbed the vicious handcuff device, the wristband of keys, and her bikini top and limped out of the bathroom. She spend the remainder of the night massaging her tender wrists and ankles, then idly pleasured herself as more kinky thoughts flowed through her mind.

### Re: Spring Break Selfbondage F/Solo

Post by Sealherlips » Wed Oct 14, 2015 10:41 am

I hope she tries something even more challenging next, complete with a tape gag.

### Re: Spring Break Selfbondage F/Solo

Post by Devious.agent » Wed Oct 14, 2015 11:13 am

Right-o

### Re: Spring Break Selfbondage F/Solo

Post by Sealherlips » Wed Oct 14, 2015 3:51 pm

Any idea when we can expect part 5?

### Re: Spring Break Selfbondage F/Solo

Post by Devious.agent » Wed Oct 14, 2015 5:43 pm

Sooner than you think.

### Re: Spring Break Selfbondage F/Solo

Post by Sealherlips » Wed Oct 14, 2015 6:53 pm

Could I be lucky enough to see a new post tonight?

### Re: Spring Break Selfbondage F/Solo

Post by Devious.agent » Wed Oct 14, 2015 9:10 pm

Part Five:
It was Wednesday, and with it came the realization that Sarah's perverted holiday was already half over. She lay outstretched in her black bikini on her lawn chair, getting a tan by the poolside. Knowing that the seven-foot fence was her ally, she stripped off her bikini top to avoid any awkward tan lines later on. She looked up and in the reflection of her dark sunglasses she saw the steel poles comprising the frame of the lawn chair. She smiled and got up.
In moments, she was playing with her restraints. She sat out admiring her collection, the sunlight reflecting off the stainless steel of the metal cuffs. She contemplated restraining herself right then and there, but imagine the awkward tan line.
Sarah put on her ankle cuffs and cuffed her hands in front, then dove in the pool. She would attempt swimming with the cuffs on and before long felt confident about other bondage positions in the pool.
She swam to where the keys were at the poolside and unlocked one of the wrist cuffs, then set the keys back where they were and locked her hands behind her back. She then allowed herself to sink to the bottom. She smiled at the mild feeling of helplessness when she again remembered her original hogcuff predicament. Imagine trying to escape that underwater!
She cut herself off mid thought and surfaced, her shackled legs kicking her way to the poolside. She used her chin to slide the keys into the pool so she could unlock her wrists.
While on her concrete patio, she stood and looked around to make sure none of the neighbors were around. She then took her keys, looped the wristband around one wrist (behind the cuff this time!) and got flat on her stomach. She then put herself in a hogcuff and began practicing escaping as fast as possible.
While she was hogcuffed, she turned her head and stared at the water. She felt for the keys around her wrist and smiled. She then rolled her way sideways toward the pool. Her heart jumped when suddenly she ran out of concrete and fell right into the pool, gasping a breath of air before her head went under.
She floated down to the bottom and landed face down. It was a more surreal experience than the one with the weight. She felt for the handcuff key and inserted it into the lock and in seconds she was kicking her way to the surface again. She wanted more. She wanted a bigger challenge, a more perilous challenge. The 20 lb. weight came to mind again.
After a two-hour trip to the hardware store, she also stopped by the local adult shop and picked up a red ballgag. She prayed that no one she knew saw her venture into the store with the drawn curtains and flashing neon signs. Despite her near-death experiences, she nonetheless felt nervous at the thought of being in such a place. Her bondage sanctuary was her own, and purchasing the ballgag was for her use only.
She got home and changed into a different bikini. This one a more frilly, pink bikini with little pink hearts against a white background. She also purchased a red one on the way home. The pink one made her feel like a damsel in distress, except there would be no one to come to her rescue. Only she could free herself, and not some knight in shining armor.
Sarah took her chains, cuffs, ballgag, and 20 lb. weight down to the basement dungeon with her. She sat down on the cold floor and first cuffed her feet to the cement block, attaching it via the long padlock. Placing her hands on the floor behind her as a counterbalance, she lifted her legs as high into the air as she could, testing the limits of her strength in tethering herself to the block. She would not take that risk again in securing herself to a fixed structure, but the thrill of a figurative ball and chain was enough.
She let the weight down gently. Next, she took the pair of leg shackles and used their larger cuffs to cuff her elbows together. She had seen models wearing handcuffs on their elbows, but escape was impossible and it could really only be done with some assistance. She resolved to do her bondage solo, after all. She looked behind her back to ensure that the cuffs were not pinching any loose skin along her upper arms. Once both arms were cuffed, she slowly raised her arms to her sides and felt the chain tighten. She could maybe raise her arms 30 degrees before the cuffs stopped them. She was just experimenting here.
The ballgag would be a new sensation to Sarah. She held it up by its straps and pressed it against her mouth. She pulled it a way for a second, surprised by the new texture of the red rubber ball. Sarah pulled the gag deep into her mouth so that her teeth bit around it, and secured the straps behind her head. She then snapped shut a small luggage bag padlock around the buckle to keep it from moving. She pulled against the straps adhering to her cheeks, but felt no give from the taut leather. She licked the inside of the gag and tasted the bitter rubber. She let out a "mmmffff!" to test it.
Next, she took the police handcuffs (she acquired another pair in addition to the real-deal cuffs and the safety-release ones) and cuffed her hands behind her back. To complete her bondage, she took the safety-release cuffs and connected the handcuffs around her ankles to the ones locked around her wrists. Click...click...click...click. It was like a countdown for her, each movement of the ratchet teeth against the pawl inside the cuff assembly being one step closer to complete helplessness.
Click. The ratchet went as far as it would go until its teeth slipped past the pawl, securing its grip around her handcuffs even tighter. She let go of her curled up legs and felt once again the tension of it pulling against her arms and shoulders. She let out a moan through the gag and closed her eyes, rolling onto her side and drifting away into her dark fantasy.
Sarah tugged against her chains, gripping the cuff attached to her wrist chain to make sure she could still feel her fingers. Wouldn't want to have an episode like that again with the keys and all---
Her eyes widened. She had set the keys on the concrete patio. Outside. The neighbors usually had their barbecues on Wednesday to celebrate hump day. She impulsively struggled against her bonds, but knew better and gave up quickly. She let out a high-pitched "Mmmfff!" in frustration. She was so excited to be a prisoner again that the keys had slipped her mind, and were now in the worst possible place.
She felt for the safety release latch on the cuffs linking her wrists and ankles, and thanked God she did not go the tumbcuffs route again with the hogcuff. Her thumb caught the latch and the pawl disengaged. She shook the cuff off her wrists and pulled them around. Her legs straightened as she wriggled forward.
She cursed herself for attaching herself to the weight. It was excessive, but so was everything she was doing to herself. She turned herself over so she could face the weight. She pulled her legs toward her with great effort as the weight scraped against the concrete floor. She repeated this motion, scooting back until her back hit the door.
Sarah stood up and gripped the doorknob, then turned it. She nudged the door open and, with her hands bound and unable to catch herself, fell over onto the white carpet. She let loose a muffled "Ow!" through the ballgag as her handcuffs pressed into the small of her back. She rolled her eyes and stared at the ceiling in anguish, then found no further solace when she turned her head and saw the entire flight of stairs leading up.
She scooted backwards toward the steps and started her ascent one step at a time. She would sit on a step as far as her bound legs would take her, then she would lift her legs and the heavy weight up to that step, not wanting to risk damaging the stairs. It took her ten minutes to climb a single set of stairs this way.
The smooth hardwood floors presented another challenge. Her parents spent a lot of money putting in a new floor, and one could imagine their anger upon seeing two long, parallel streaks cut into it and leading out to the patio. Shit.
Sarah put herself into a squatting position with the weight behind her. She reached back and grabbed the eyelet connecting the padlock to her ankle cuffs. With all her upper body strength, she hoisted the weight behind her and positioned it on the back of her calves. It was painful, but now the weight would not scrape against the floor as she moved. Using her chin and whatever bare skin she could as resistance, she scooted across the floor and toward the mat right before the sliding door.
She turned over and let the weight fall onto the carpet, then knelt before the door so she was at eye level with the handle. She pushed hard with her nose to slide the door open and then fell forward, unable to catch herself. Her head scraped against the rough concrete and she felt a trickle of blood coming from her forehead. But at last, the keys were in sight!
She scooted across the concrete, taking extra precaution not to accidentally fall into the pool. She rolled and caught the wristband of keys under her upper arm. Sarah then maneuvered her body around so she could hold the keys. It did not occur to her that her neighbors could very well be out, but she did not see the telltale smoke from a barbecue. She was relieved when the key fit in the hole of her handcuffs and she could draw her arm in front of her.
She pulled at the gag, but remembering that it was locked, refocused her attention on the other cuffs, which she removed in minutes. She stood before the weight and the pile of cuffs in her pink bikini, but still wearing her ballgag. She bent down and picked up the keys, sorting through them to try and find the tiny key that would unlock the gag. Uh-oh.
Sarah remembered the last time her family vacationed and actually used that lock on a bag. It was so long ago that the key had disappeared and it never occurred to anyone to just replace it since it was seldom used.
"Fuck!" she said through her gag as saliva bubbled around her lips. She tried pulling on the leather straps, but could not fit even a finger underneath them, for they were so secured to her face that it would likely leave a lasting mark.
Sarah ran indoors and into the kitchen, opening up a drawer and extracting a pair of scissors. She slid one of the blades under a strap pressed against her cheek, then reluctantly cut through it, destroying the gag after only one use. Dejected, Sarah threw the gag down on the floor. She liked being able to breathe as she climaxed anyway.