This story contains scenes depicting noose play - under no circumstances should you attempt to replicate this act - It is presented here as fantasy only.

#2 Andreabound in the Woods – Part One

Growing up as the only girl amongst four brothers I was inevitably cast as the Indian in our games of cowboys and Indians. It was during those times when I was captured and left tied up to the tree in our back yard that I first developed my taste for bondage.

My brothers, all older than me, soon grew tired of playing boyish games and whilst they all learned handyman skills from our father, being the only daughter meant I was kept in the kitchen and expected to learn how to cook and keep a house.

It was around that time I started to tie myself up. Hesitantly at first, borrowing some of my mother’s clothes – they seemed so much more glamorous than mine. I tied myself up using scarves and a belt I had found in the trash can and later some rope that had been lying around in the basement. On my visits to the basement to use the washing machine I fantasized about being tied up down there, maybe tied to one of the support posts. I never had the nerve to try as with eight of us in the house (including granddad) it was always too risky. Even though our house was large, privacy was at a premium and as the only other female in a very traditional household I was kept fairly busy waiting on the men of the family.

When the chores became too much for me I used to disappear into my fantasy world where I was a slave captured by soldiers and forced to serve them or face dire punishments. I was never quite sure what those punishments would be but fairly certain they would at least involve being chained up in a dark basement room.

My parents’ expectations for me didn’t seem to extend beyond finding a suitable husband and raising a family so they were taken aback when I announced I would be leaving for college the next year to study English and history.

My college years were uneventful bondage-wise; I always had a roommate and was too shy to risk being caught practicing self-bondage. But it was there that I met my first boyfriend, Simon. There was obviously something about me despite my determined and independent streak that marked me out as a submissive. Simon was a practicing dominant and it wasn’t long before he introduced me to strict bondage. After college I moved in with him and we enjoyed a symbiotic relationship for a while. With Simon I learned all sorts of things such as what the different knots were used for, that my elbows could touch behind my back and be tied there for up to half-an-hour, and that I got turned on by having something around my neck.

Sadly, in the end he got too abusive and I knew it was time to leave. By then I had a reasonable job in an office at a local business and was able to afford my first apartment which I moved into about a year ago. I arrived with little furniture but carrying a large suitcase stuffed full of all the bondage toys we had acquired in our time together. Simon wasn’t happy about that but I gave him little choice. In the end we parted reasonably amicably and I knew that he would be a reliable safety person I could call on as a last resort should I get myself into a bondage situation that needed one.

Simon had taught me a lot about bondage but I had been hurt and decided it was better to practice by myself for a while. I quickly discovered that it is a much more difficult proposition to tie yourself up. Especially since any old tie was not going to work for me. I needed to be tied to something solid, tied tightly and inescapably. This I’ve found is a tall order for a slight girl with no particular bent for things mechanical.

I tried most things around the apartment, doors, chairs, the bed, but none were really satisfactory. I yearned for the days I used to be tied to the tree in the yard. My apartment did have a garden but there was no suitable tree and in any case, it was overlooked by too many people.

I started to drive about in my recently acquired car looking for more secluded places to tie myself up. I wasn’t sure even if I found somewhere that I could really put myself in bondage in a public place as I was still basically shy and the idea of  being found by someone made me feel sick inside.

Eventually I found the perfect spot. A few miles from my apartment there was a wood with a trail though it between two roads. About a quarter of a mile in there was a gap in the undergrowth that led to a small clearing next to a pond. The clearing had a couple of trees in it that would be fine for my purposes. The largest had a trunk just thick enough that I could touch my fingertips together behind me and branches that started about seven feet up.

That night I dreamt about being tied to that tree in the middle of a storm and woke determined to go through with my outdoor bondage fantasy no matter what. I staked out the trail for a few weeks on and off and discovered that it was rarely used during the daytime, never at night or whenever the weather was bad. I found the perfect place to park. Somewhere near the trail but that wouldn’t look suspicious to passing drivers.

I guess sitting there I was working up the nerve to go through with this. And getting used the idea that the sick feeling in my stomach whenever I thought about being discovered tied to a tree was actually heightening my arousal. Discovery was very unlikely if I picked my moment right but always a small risk. Yes, I decided; I was going to do this.

I thought of many ways to tie myself to that tree but not having the benefit of the mechanical training my brothers received I was stuck for ideas on how to fasten myself inescapably to the tree in a way that I could of course eventually escape from.

It’s easy to tie yourself in a way that prevents escape but without a partner you have to have a way out too. That was always the hard bit and limited my options.

Of course this time there would be no cowboys to either tie up the poor Indian or release her. But maybe I could be a cowgirl for a change? A tree was more likely to be used to lynch a cowgirl than to tie her up to. Yes I would play the part of a cowgirl condemned to hang for my part in a cattle rustling gang.

I knew noose-play was dangerous but having things around my neck turns me on and I hadn’t been able to find any suitable fixings in my very modern apartment to experiment with nooses.

A noose, no matter how carefully applied though, was not going to be enough. I needed a greater challenge to my bondage. If I used a noose I wouldn’t be able to use much other bondage as I would need the use of my legs to keep a good balance. Finally, I worked out a way to have a two stage bondage experience out in the woods.

Andreabound in the Woods – Part Two

So I started to collect all the things I would need to create my adventure. I went to the mall and bought a beige colored suede suit. The jacket had fringed sleeves and the knee-length skirt had a deep fringe on the hem. I got some dark brown cowboy boots that had high-heels and rounded it all off with a large cowboy hat from a costume shop. The clothes were all from the sales as I didn’t expect them to survive the trip to the woods intact.

Although I liked chains best I thought this scenario required rope for the noose. A trip to the mall’s hardware store fixed that. Whilst there I also bought a powerful torch and saw a neat step-stool that would help with the lynching. The stool was only about a foot tall and made of plastic so would be easy to carry into the woods.

The next few nights were spent measuring out rope, fashioning a noose, checking out my bondage gear and elaborating on my fantasy scenario, and waiting for the perfect weather for my adventure. At last a blustery night with not too much rain – hopefully, just enough to keep other people away. A night that was not too dark either; I would need moonlight to find my way around as I didn’t want to use the torch until I was well inside the woods. I got changed; at least if I was stopped by the police they wouldn’t give my attire a second look. I collected together all the bits I would need in a large bag, threw the stool onto the back seat of my car and drove to the woods.

Parking in the spot I had marked out earlier I looked about and waited a while. Nobody was about and only two cars passed me. Neither gave me a second look parked there at the side of the road. Time to go.

Picking up my bag and the stool, I took one last look up and down the road to make sure no one was coming and headed down the trail. Thankfully the rain had stopped and the moon was showing through a break in the clouds. I found the gap in the undergrowth without much difficulty having memorized several landmarks on my previous trip. Pushing through the gap a hundred feet or so further on was my clearing. I used the torch to check if there had been any obvious visitors since I was last there but it looked pretty much how I remembered it; just mostly bare ground with a few trees scattered about.

First I went to my big tree and dumped my gear on a groundsheet I had brought along. I sorted out a long chain and padlocked one end around the base of the tree. I walked as far as I could with the other end of the chain and then measured another six feet. At this point I pushed a stick in the soft ground that had a small eyelet screwed into it. To this eyelet I had already attached a loop of string which held the key to the chain around the tree trunk. I walked another couple of feet and placed all my remaining keys in a small plastic bag carefully on the ground.

The noose I threw over the lowest branch of the large tree and took the other end to another tree where I tied it off for now so that the noose was about neck height. Placing the stool under the noose I measured the noose against my height and worked out where it would need to be positioned when I stepped off the stool. Bending down I took a couple of ice cubes from the thermos I had bought them in and put them in a detergent bag. This string bag was the sort used for putting detergent tablets into a washing machine. I had previously replaced the drawstring with a stronger bootlace.

Back to where the noose was tied off I wrapped a short rope around the smaller tree trunk at about waist height. This rope had a small metal ring attached to it and I threaded the bootlace through the ring until the bag with the ice in it reached the ring.  I untied the end of the noose from around the tree where I had left it and tied it to the end of the bootlace, adjusting for the position of the noose. When the ice melted the bag would be small enough to slip through the ring releasing the noose.

Wandering back and forth a couple of times I adjusted the slack until the noose was positioned so that I could slip it over my neck whilst standing on the stool and it was just the right tightness when I stepped off the stool. For safety, I had put a knot in the noose so that it wouldn’t tighten too much and strangle me even if I lost my balance. I knew that with a real noose it was easy to tighten but not so easy to loosen. Should I fall over, the knot would prevent the noose closing on my neck giving me a chance to find my feet again as I wouldn’t have the use of my hands to loosen the noose. As a last resort I reckoned the bootlace wouldn’t take my weight without breaking and so if I did fall the noose should come free.

Nearly there now. I snapped on my ankle irons (really just large handcuffs). I suppose to be authentic to the period I should have bought proper leg-irons but my budget didn’t run to that yet. The ankle irons were connected by a chain giving me about eighteen inches of movement.  I used the last padlock to connect the free end of the chain from around the base of the tree to the middle of the ankle cuffs. This chain would allow me to reach the stick with padlock key on about twenty feet away. But if I’d measured it right the slack in the chain would mean I would have to lie down and stretch for it and grab the string with my teeth.

The ankle irons also had a short chain attached that ran to the middle link on my handcuffs, pulling my hands down towards my feet and preventing me from using my hands for doing anything at all. The connecting chain was long enough to give me some slack provided I kept my ankles together. But to keep my balance especially wearing high heels in the loose soil under the tree, I would probably need to keep my feet slightly apart. This would pull my wrists tight and have the added effect of tightening the noose a little. It would be a payoff between being balanced and being comfortable. I was fairly sure I could right myself if I lost my balance and the knot in the noose would prevent me strangling provided I could get upright pretty quickly again. But I didn’t really want to put it to the test.

Stepping up onto the stool I fit the noose around my neck, stuck the hat on my head and, pulling out a scarf that had been tucked into my wide leather belt, I blindfolded myself. I’d deliberately chosen a sheer scarf that would allow me to see a little. It was going to be hard enough to find the stick in the dark anyway without being completely blind.

Once I’d placed the handcuffs around my wrists behind my back I would be committed, stool or not. The chain from the ankle irons to my handcuffs would prevent me from reaching up to the noose to remove it. I would have to wait for the ice to melt before I could start hunting for the key on the stick.

I took a moment to stop and collect my thoughts. Was there anything I’d forgotten? I couldn’t think of anything so I reached behind me and slipped the handcuffs over my left wrist. Click, click, click, the ratchet slowly made a prisoner of my wrist. As I have thin wrists the handcuffs would not be too tight but weren’t going to come off either.

Holding the right cuff in my left hand I felt behind me with my free hand until it was resting in the curve of the remaining cuff. I slowly pushed the hinged part of the handcuff with my left hand until I heard a click. Two more clicks and my right hand was captured in steel too. I realized I’d been holding my breath all this time and let out a slow sigh. I could stay up on the stool I suppose but I needed to keep my ankles together whilst standing on the stool and I knew I would eventually lose my balance and fall off. Best to step down now and avoid that possibility.

Andreabound in the Woods – Part Three

In my fantasy the ranchers had had their evil way with me and were now in the process of carrying out their sentence of public lynching. They’d brought me into the woods and after making me stand on a log slung a noose over a tree branch. They’d fixed the noose around my neck and were about to push me off the log when someone came running into the clearing shouting that there were more cattle rustlers trying to steal some of their cattle. Telling me not to go anywhere (like that was a possibility!) they’d all run off back to the ranch to apprehend the thieves, leaving me alone, precariously balanced on a log with a noose around my neck and still wearing the irons they’d had me chained up in for the last few days whilst they argued about what to do with me and taken turns in using me while they decided my fate. I suspect that might be the reason the deliberations took so long.

In any case I wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction of seeing me hang so I decided to step off the log while they were away.

Stepping off the log, in my case represented by the stool, I realized the stupid ranchers had miscalculated the length of the rope they intended to hang me with. So I found myself standing on my tiptoes (represented by my high heels) facing a slow, slow death by strangulation rather than the quick drop that I had been expecting. I could probably stay on my tiptoes for a long time motivated by the fact that when my ankles tired I would die. But eventually I would either sink down onto my feet or, worse, faint or lose my balance. For a moment I considered lifting my legs and ending it right there but my survival instinct kicked in and I found I just couldn’t do it.

I realized I should probably get back up onto the log. It might be precarious but at least I wouldn’t have to stand on my tiptoes until I ran out of steam. But as I put a foot back on the log I inadvertently kicked it and felt it roll away down the hill (represented by me kicking the stool away).

It was only then that I realized there wasn’t going to be much slack in my ankle iron chain. If I moved my feet too far apart that would pull down on my handcuffs which in turn would put more pressure on my neck. So I would have to wait for the ice to melt with my feet together standing to attention; stool, log or bare ground it made no difference.

Fine; I could do this. I would simply wait here for the ice to melt and then I would be free. I’d only used two ice cubes so this wouldn’t be too long.

Just then as luck would have it the weather took a turn for the worse. I found myself buffeted by sudden squalls of wind and rain. The rain seemed to be coming horizontally towards me stinging my face and just as I started to get used to it, would change direction. I hadn’t realized how much more difficult it is to keep your balance when blindfolded. I’d only ever been blindfolded indoors before and this was a totally different experience. In addition, the ground under me was slowly turning to mud meaning I had to constantly rebalance myself and I cursed myself for choosing the high heels rather than normal cowboy boots.

If it got any worse I might have to drop and put enough weight on the rope to snap the bootlace. I was sure it would break under that much strain but at the very least I would have a nasty bruise on my neck that would take days to go away so I didn’t want to do that if I could help it. Mind if the weather got any worse I might be blown over anyhow taking even that choice away from me.

At least the rain might help the ice melt faster and indeed it wasn’t long before I felt the noose go limp. It was so sudden that I almost fell over anyway and it was several seconds before I managed to regain my balance.

Ha! It seems like the stupid ranchers hadn’t even checked the rope they tried to hang me with. They’d used an old rope and now it had finally snapped under the strain. Now, I remember someone dropping a bunch of keys somewhere not too far away. They were just rooting around, looking for them when the messenger arrived. Maybe if I could find those keys before the ranchers return I can win my freedom…

I wasn’t going to start looking for the stick in this weather so I leant with my back against the tree waiting for the rain to ease up. After a while the weather returned to normal and through the gauze covering my eyes I could see even the moon had come back out, even if it was occasionally covered by scudding clouds. Time to find that key.

All that buffeting had turned me around and I realized I hadn’t got a clue which direction the key was in. I tried rubbing the blindfold against the bark of the tree to move it away from my eyes but the rain had made it stick to my face like glue and all I achieved was to lose my hat. I resigned myself for a long hunt. But then again, wasn’t that the point?

I would have to walk as far as the chain would let me and then move in a circle around the tree hoping I could spot the stick. Although I couldn’t see too well through the blindfold and the patchy darkness, the glint of the eyebolt or key might just give the location of the stick away. I was a third of the way around the tree and peering into the gloom when I thought I caught sight of that glint. I moved my head backwards and forwards, having to wait for the brief moments that the moon was visible through the clouds. Yes there was definitely something there. I knelt down carefully and eased onto my stomach. Inching forward until the chain pulled on the ankle irons and my feet were forced together I lifted my head up and tried to peer under my blindfold. Damn! It was just a candy wrapper.

Backing up I got unsteadily to my feet. The ordeal was starting to tell on me now. I went to the gym regularly and kept myself in good trim but this nights exertions were pushing me to the limit. I’d better find that key soon.

I continued to circle around the tree and then I saw it. The stick, glowing pale in the moonlight stood out clearly from the dark ground around it. I lowered myself to the ground again only to discover this particular patch of ground had turned into a mud-bath. I oozed rather than inched forward this time until my legs went taut. All I had on under my cowboy suit was a thin white body and that had been soaked though by the rain and was now thick with mud. I looked through the blindfold and now I was closer could see that the stick had fallen over, perhaps it had been blown over. I hadn’t pushed the stick too firmly into the ground as I knew I would have to pull it back out using just my mouth. Of course the stick had fallen away from me. I strained forward but just couldn’t reach it. I’d forgotten that the chain between my ankles and wrists would reduce the distance I could reach and with the stick lying further away I was never going to reach it now. 

That’s when the despair set in. If I couldn’t get to that key I would be stuck here in this clearing until someone came by on the trail. I would have to hope to hear them and shout for rescue. Based on my stakeout of the woods I realized, unless the weather improved greatly, it might be days before I was rescued.

Oh, why had I cut it all so fine? I was the stupid one not the ranchers. Not that my fantasy had any hold over me now. I had been brought back down to earth with a bump. Dirty, wet, cold and very, very stuck!

I moved my head to avoid lying in the mud and something sharp dug into my cheek. A fallen bit of twig had landed here and was floating in the puddle. I gritted my teeth and seized it. It tasted nasty but maybe I could use it to hook the stick and pull it close enough to grab.

After several attempts during which I could feel the mud sliding all over my bare legs and down into my boots. During which I could feel my face and hair getting muddier and muddier. I managed to knock the stick sufficiently so that I thought I could grab it with my lips. I dropped the twig and strained for all I was worth. I would have serious bruises on my wrists after this. At last I got my lips around the stick and around a lot of mud too for that matter.

I sat back up and tried to get to my feet. The mud though had other ideas and I sat back down with a thud. Ouch! I had to content with scooting myself along the ground on my butt until I reached firmer ground. Here I could stand up and stagger towards the tree. I couldn’t see a thing now as the mud had completely covered my blindfold but it was easy enough to follow the chain back to the tree. I bent down at the base of the tree and fumbled behind me to unlock the padlock chaining me to the tree.

I still wasn’t free though. Yes I could leave the woods if I needed to but I wasn’t going to get home on my own with my hands cuffed behind me and only able to take foot long steps. I had to find the other keys. This time there was no chain to follow but I knew what general direction I had come in and should be able to retrace my steps.

The sploshing of the mud puddle told me I was close to my goal and I managed to locate the bag of padlocks without much trouble and free my hands and feet. At last I could remove the now mud soaked noose that had been trailing around after me since I left the tree. I put all the items back in my bag, retrieved the stool and set off back to the car where I had a nice big fluffy towel waiting.

The drive home was uneventful. My greatest worry was of being pulled over by the cops due to the late hour and having to explain away my appearance but I didn’t see another car the whole journey.

The usual bath and a huge orgasm later, I fell into bed and straight to sleep - to dream of cowboys and Indians and being tied to trees by burly ranchers and left there calling vainly for rescue.

23.05.07