Author’s Foreword

A few weeks ago, I was surfing for self bondage late at night, and came across the Warhammer self bondage and dares page again. I hadn’t looked at it in years, but as I flipped through links and stories, I came across a description of a risk predicament bondage scenario. The dare involved public bondage and an untied bikini to act as a deterrent to getting up and finding a way out of the bondage. I found this scenario to be incredibly erotic, and ended up writing this story for my own amusement as a way to fully enjoy the thoughts the scenario supplied. Obviously, I decided to share; hopefully others will enjoy it as much as I did.

I checked that I had everything together as I listened to the family two doors down enjoying their pool. They were a family that loved their pool; they swam and floated and lounged around it religiously. I couldn’t say they were just new to the experience either; they’d had that pool put in when I was five, and had been out there most every sunny day since. This was perfect for my needs.

A high school girl is expected to do certain things. One of them is occasionally flake out of boring family trips for vague reasons related to school and dating, but were probably neither, and another was spend time lying around working on a tan, God’s honest truth. I had already done the first. Mom and dad were off in the mountains for the next two days. They went every year, and spent three days at spas and inns run by couples and tiny little village shops and all sorts of boring things. My excuse had been my Calculus test on Monday; which I would have otherwise missed; and I had to prepare. It worked, and off my parents trouped without me.

Unlike some other girls, I had other things I did. My secret fascination was bondage, especially whenever I could mix it into any sort of risk or voyeuristic circumstance. It was a little before mid-afternoon, giving me the rest of the day to experience phase one of my plan. I had set keys and other items into place earlier this morning, and now I made a last check of the house to make sure all the doors were locked. Then I told myself to be sure, and went outside to check the key.

I’d strung it from the flagpole that was mounted in the brick wall next to our front porch. The key hung below one of the neatly trimmed box hedges that bordered our house; but when I went behind the hedges later to retrieve the key, I’d be clearly visible from the porch, the road, and most of the houses on our street. I’d carefully checked the height of the key; it hung just above the small of my back when I stood flat footed.

Satisfied my release was in place, I relocked the front door and went back into the kitchen. On the island were the rest of my afternoon’s supplies. It wasn’t much; the really humiliating parts were planned for phase two, and already in place awaiting my later arrival. Phase one was about direct voyeur bondage, which really did limit my activities. I had considered nipple clamps, and would love a ball gag, but it was too much risk, and I had settled for a simple scheme. I did have a little vibrating egg I could use, since it was internal; it ran on two AA batteries and had a little chain attached to one end. I had attached a pair of tiny alligator clips to the end of the chain. I also had a clitoral butterfly vibrator; this ran on the more irritating to find watch batteries, but this gave it a nice low profile. And, really, it didn’t have to do much to really be felt right on the button.

Now I squirted lube onto the fingers of one hand, then lifted the egg by its chain and got it slicked up. Bending over, I started rubbing and twisting the egg against my anus. Slowly, with drippy fingers and a slippery egg, I eased the toy up inside me, until only the chain hung free. I squirmed a little as I straightened up, feeling the egg shift and slide within me. I walked to the sink, feeling the chain swing against my vulva, and smack against my thighs with each stride. After a quick wash up, I scooped up the butterfly. It was a flat and curved oval, gently flexible, and shaped and sculpted on the underside to slide up into a girl’s nub and get her attention. There were slots on the sides where straps could be attached, but today I was using the skin adhesive option.

The package said it was good for twelve hour applications, after which soap and water, or a little spritz of the de-applicator liquid, and it came right off. I’d used it before, once when I wore the butterfly to school and left the spritz bottle at home; it was lovely stuff. Didn’t leave any marks, just gave a slightly tight feeling across the skin after it set. Now I carefully used the applicator to coat my pelvis just above my clitoral hood, and even more carefully, to either side of my nub without getting any on my clit or the hood. Then I positioned the butterfly and gently pressed with a slight twisting wiggle. I felt the sculpted fins and grooves nudging my hood aside, nuzzling next to my clit with ominous intent.

After a minute, the tingle told me the glue was set, and I lifted my fingers away. The butterfly stayed adhered to my tanned skin, covering the top of my slit. The top of the vibrator had a real butterfly painted on it, in metallic and glittering hues that sparkled and drew the eye; it gave me a delicious thrill as I took in how I now looked. It looked naughty and sexy, which only added to the excitement it generated within me. When I reached through and took up the chain that dangled from my ass, and tugged gently to attach the two alligator clips to the butterfly, I felt positively dirty, and loved it. The chain was snug between the butterfly and my ass, nestling into the folds of my vulva, icy cold on my inner lips as I shifted with a brief shiver of delight.

Now I was basically finished; everything else that was needed for my plan was already positioned. My top was next to my wrap, and I wrapped the bright blue bikini around my breasts with a giggle. It was a temporary reprieve, and was about to become a lot more interesting. My tiny pink nipples didn’t vanish, they still poked through the barely ample triangles of lycra and nylon, tautly enough to be visible across the room. It was almost disappointing I wasn’t doing this close enough for anyone to actually notice that little detail. I giggled at myself as I brushed my shoulder length blonde hair aside to loop the neck strings around me. I tied the neck off in a sloppy bow tie, and then gave the back strings an equally casual ‘securing’.

The last item was my silk wrap, a beautiful garment made of multiple layers of patterned and colored silk. The top layers were translucent and screen thin, and shifted to create eye catching effects across the thicker and textured lower layers. Mine was blue and purple, with swirls of metallic silver and sapphire that danced through it with striking effect. Folded and belted properly, it was wearable as a skirt. I also used it when I tanned, but especially for this it was perfect since it drew the eyes to me. Now I wrapped it around my nude lower body and held it together at the waist with one hand. Then, ready, I exited the house through the back door. The lock clicked behind me, and I paused to rattle the knob with one hand to assure myself I really was locked out. I was. Good. Barefoot, I padded off the patio and across the grass to my beach towel lying in the middle of the backyard grass. Gazing across the waist high fences that bordered each yard, I saw the source of the occasional bursts of laughter or splashing.

My neighbors two doors down were an older couple in their fifties, and today they had another couple over as guests. Right now, the two ladies were lying on lounge chairs talking, while their husbands paddled around in the pool on floating chairs and listened to a football game on the radio. The wife waved to me, and I smiled as I waved back, remembering to keep a hold on my wrap. If only she knew. I had a beatific smile on my face as I walked; the egg was making itself known in my ass, and the butterfly’s fins were nudging ever so slightly against my clit as I walked. A little extra swing for the hips.

When I reached my spot, I stretched myself out as if merely back for the rest of my tan. Which to be fair, I was; I’d already spent the morning sunning my front to hold up appearances. It’d be a shame to become known the light-and-dark girl or something far stupider. Lying down, I was mostly out of view; people who were in their yards and actively looking over the fences might catch a glimpse of me, but nothing much more. Unless they were staring; I secretly sorta hoped someone would, but in reality I was counting on social rules, especially in this settled neighborhood where we all knew each other, to keep people from taking more than polite notice of George and Paula’s daughter sunning herself in her own backyard.

I’d already applied my sunscreen inside, and now merely opened the cooler and popped open another can of soda. I took a quick sip, but not too much; it was still at least three hours until dusk. Mainly, I had the soda out as visual cover. Setting it aside, I shifted under my wrap to pull it from beneath me. Carefully, staying covered, I folded the silk up and draped it so it covered from just below my waist to just at my thighs. I was barely covered; in fact, anyone standing on my back porch would only have to lean down a little to have a pretty good look right up my legs as I lay there. From the sides, it was innocent in a saucy way that again excited me. I left a fold of fabric slightly tented at the small of my back, just above the cleft of my ass. When I felt the wind fluttering ever so lightly at the lower edges of the wrap, as if threatening to lift it from my naked body, I shivered and felt my clit poking against the butterfly that nestled around it.

Steeling myself for the full treatment I had planned, I took a pair of slim leather cuffs I’d stashed under the beach towel earlier. These were studded with steel rings that tinkled with each movement, and provided ample anchor points if needed. I slipped them under the wrap, and left them there for a moment.

And the opening act hits the stage, I thought as I lay flat on my front, feeling my breasts compress slightly and balloon a bit out to either side. My nipples were hard and tingling, and I felt my pulse rising steadily as I tipped my head forward and pulled the knots on my top loose. I tucked the strings neatly beneath me, and grinned as I considered my image now. It was innocent enough, with that extra voyeuristic oomph that made it appeal to me. The top was just a pair of barely adequate triangles anyway; with the strings down, from the side my breasts were fully exposed. From the next yards over, it was apparent what I was doing, but I was just far enough away to prevent any real payoff looks.

So now, show time. I paused briefly to consider if I was doing this for real, then pushed past it before I could find a reason that would let me talk myself out of just going ahead. I’d already planned everything out; there were no risks that weren’t wanted. I pulled the remote for my toys from beneath the towel, and tapped the buttons. The egg hummed gently to life at the lowest setting, hardly enough to even really tickle me, but I had it on a random setting that would come into play soon. The butterfly stayed off, but it too was waiting for a timer to tell it when to start doing something else. Then I flicked my arm and tossed the remote towards the far corner of the backyard. It landed in the grass near the flower beds, and I plunged on with my plan before I again paused to consider further.

My sealing item was a simple little padlock, small and discrete; but made of steel and more than proof against my petite 5’3” frame. It was the last item awaiting me beneath my beach towel, and I reached behind me with it under the wrap. The lock was cold on my skin when I laid it in the cleft of my ass. I carefully buckled the cuffs onto my wrists, keeping my wrap delicately in place, and then took a deep breath. Closing my eyes, my fingers lifted the padlock and slipped onto the rings of my cuffs; trapping my wrists behind me as it clicked closed.

I listened to the chirp of birds, the distant splash of bodies in water, voices on the gentle breeze, scraps of audience noise from the football broadcast, the growl of a car’s engine on the street outside, two lawnmowers roaring out somewhere in the neighborhood, and felt a cold chill ripple through me. I was trapped here, on my beach towel, until at least full dark, and maybe longer; the alternative was shocking the neighbors I’d lived next to my entire life. My arms lay against the cleft of my ass, linked by unyielding steel and double stitched leather; this drew my arms back from my shoulders, and left my upper body bare but for my downward pressure and position. Gentle wind flicked at the upper layers of the wrap, and at the edges desultorily; this sent a shivering shifting sensation through the silk as it lay draped ever so delicately across my bare ass and cuffed hands. Goose bumps tickled along my breasts and ribs, and down my hips and thighs, as I felt incredibly vulnerable simply lying there.

That was the trick, just lying there. When the wife two doors down, or her friend, stood up to refresh their drinks and glanced over, I just looked like a teenager snoozing away the afternoon. She might cluck once over the strings on my bikini, but past that it looked innocent enough and she’d put it down to youth. If I shifted my legs or hips, or moved my body, I risked dislodging my wrap. Every time the wind gusted, even though I was well down in the yard, with the fences and hedges scattered about to break it up, my heart jumped as the edges of the wrap threatened motion. My ass was wonderfully round and firm, and I had just the right amount of separation to let my cunt peep through from behind. I had pictures of myself, and knew it was hot. If the wrap came off, I was going to share that view with the neighbors. And the wrist cuffs, of course.

And if I stood up, my top wasn’t coming with me. I was a small girl, but I was also curvy, and my 34Cs were prominent and firm, with just a hint of bounce. I could feel my tight nipples and knew they wouldn’t be missed either. Getting up meant revealing my nude and bound form to them. I was a slim and bouncy blonde in her prime, with an athletic form, lush breasts and hips, a completely shaved vulva, and handcuffs on her wrists. With conservative parents who had considerable ties in this community. It was a bright and sunny day, with a clear view across the fences. The town wasn’t that big. The whole neighborhood wasn’t that big. I went to school with over thirty-five teens who lived within ten minutes’ walk of my house; almost half of them boys. I was soooooooooo not getting up.

So I lay there quietly, resisting the urge to wiggle or squirm as I felt trapped and naughty. The egg lodged in my ass was barely tickling, and I started to drift as I settled into the simplicity of the situation. When the butterfly suddenly hummed to life, I blinked my eyes open and remembered just in time not to wiggle. It wasn’t on strongly, only a delicate buzz that felt good. I closed my eyes again, and concentrated on laying still as the breeze continued to ripple lightly at my hair, and across the silken layers of the wrap that was all shielding me from full exposure. In seconds I started to lubricate; I could feel my labia soon beginning to peel aside eagerly. Wisps of breeze that stole between my legs gusted coolly across my vulva and tickled me deliciously. The chain from my egg was now warm against my skin, but the tiny unyielding links were a nice stimulation as my labia slowly began to engorge and spread, dragging lightly across the chain as my body responded to the simulation.

Before too long, I was lying in a wet spot on the towel. I could imagine how it looked as I lay quietly, mostly focusing on steadying my breathing as I felt the first internal quivers start; the creamy little rivulets of lubrication that had spread down my vulva, collecting against the butterfly glued to my skin, highlighting the healthy sexual response I was experiencing for anyone who could take a look. I could feel the rim of moisture on my skin around the butterfly, felt juice leaking through, beneath the vibrator nestled against my clit, and out around the sides in a slow trickle. My mons was damp and slick against the moistening towel. And it was starting to ache a bit to lay on my nipples, they were so erect and crinkled together with excitement. Had I been inside, maybe in a hogtie or a full body bind, I would roll over. Not here. I moaned softly as I ran anew against the limits of my bonds, and settled instead for flexing my toes. Before much longer, I was starting to have trouble keeping my breathing below a shallow pant. I was starting to moan softly, and I kept first biting my lip to stifle my faint cries, then gasping as my excitement continued to steadily ply my trapped form.

Just as my eyes began the first stages of defocusing, which would soon lead to crossing and rolling back in my head as I orgasmed, the butterfly clicked off. I drew a deep breath, relieved my limits weren’t going to be tested that far just yet. The egg had notched itself up slightly, and now was a steady, but still gentle, tickle. I was close, and there were infrequent muscle tremors across my abdomen and pelvis that combined with the egg’s constant effort to make me shift my head and clench my toes. But it wasn’t enough, not by far. Not yet. I slid slowly, pleasantly, down the sexual scale with a lazy smile. The sun was warm on my back, and I kept my elbows out to the sides to avoid occluding myself from the actually desired tan. The wrap continued to tease me with the sensation of ever present movement as the wispy upper layers reacted to the light breeze.

I didn’t go back to sleep, or even back into a daze, but I still couldn’t say how long it was. My neighbors sounded like they were all out of the pool; I didn’t hear any splashing. Focusing, I heard a faint thread of voices, and mentally shrugged. I didn’t dare lift my shoulders; the position of my hips and torso were critical to my bonds. But I gave it up and turned my head to the side, flicking my eyes upwards at the clear blue sky. They were doing their thing, enjoying the day; so was I. When the next random change in my toys came, I had to press my lips together to avoid a gasp.

The butterfly came on, but the egg didn’t go off. My clit was being very lightly stimulated, and the egg had strengthened to a very insistent buzz. I could feel it within my cunt, the internal vibrations reaching through my body from my loins and hitting the vaginal walls. With a low groan, I focused very strongly on lying still. It was hard; this was a worse stimulation than my first round of random. I definitely wanted to squirm as the egg stayed revved up within my ass; but I was still almost skipping heartbeats every time the silk wrap felt like it might be shifting. Which was almost all the time. Allowing myself a very quiet groan, I shifted my head to the other side, away from my pool neighbors, and started my breathing exercises again.

The sticky remains of my earlier near-orgasm still clung coldly to my body; within minutes fresh wetness was trickling over me again. Ordinarily, I disdained the wet spot; I made boyfriends move over, or we changed beds; once I’d changed the sheets on the bed before I let him, and me, go to sleep. The first time a guy forgot about me and the wet spot, I was outta there. I mean, really; this is a simple thing for a girl to ask. Can’t catch that, you’re not even really paying attention to me.

Now, though, I was left to lay there motionless in a puddle of my own desire and fight my body’s responses. The icky faded to a forgotten irritation as I jazzed up again under stimulus I could not escape, would not escape. My ass started to sensitize to the heavy vibrations, as the nerves were fully shaken awake all across my lower abdomen, pelvis, and thighs. The tickle on my clit was just very nice, but the ripples of mechanically induced sensation that were now crackling across my lower body really felt good. The quivering within me was really making me want to move, but I merely breathed as evenly as I could and endured.

This time, my eyes did defocus. I lay with my cheek pressed to the fluffy beach towel, a thin line of drool trailing from my parted and panting lips, and stared blurrily at the flower beds. The little spots of color helped, as I reminded myself over and over to just keep breathing, just keep breathing. My little mantra helped me to keep the air moving, silly though it was; I had like, a lot going on right then. And the breathing kept me from crashing over the edge into the orgasm I wasn’t sure my delicate image as the girl next door could safely survive. I was dimly considering trying to do sums in my head in a further effort to stave off the feared inevitable, when the randomizer clicked again.

The egg blessedly dropped down to a gentle purr, again just a tiny bit higher than before. I closed my eyes in relief, all to aware of every flexing muscle and contracting tendon within my lower body. My nipples were making themselves felt too; they thrust out into the towel at full extension now. The individual strands and threads of the towel’s soft terry cloth texture poked the thin material of my bikini top up against my hard and sensitive buds. The patterned feel across my compressed breasts was lovely, even if distracting. I cursed my own inventiveness, and opened my eyes to see how I was doing.

Much better. I could make out flowers now, not blots of colors. Wonderful, such a lovely day. I sighed, gently, and had to suppress my automatic urge to stretch. This was devilishly clever, I sighed again mournfully, innocently simple, maddeningly frustrating. Shifting my legs risked moving my hips, which could dislodge the wrap. My hands were not only under the wrap, and so could also cause it to shift, but I had no where else to hide the cuffs except under the wrap. If the wrap went away, I was not only naked, I was a naked sex pervert. This excited me, such a salacious thought, but I continued to breathe evenly, in and out, feeling the gentle swell and press of my breasts with each breath.

After a few minutes, when I was again calm and back to enjoying the gentle pleasures of egg and day, I felt much better about my situation. I was really getting off on this, as planned of course; it was making me too hot to even bear thinking about. But I also was pretty sure the sun was starting to drop on the horizon. I never was very good at math without calculator or paper, but two random turns would be, maybe two hours. Two ish. Whatever, the shadows were definitely longer. I suppressed the urge to toss my head as the breeze picked up slightly, and started picking lightly at my hair. It was tickling against the back of my shoulders and neck with a simply scrumptious sensation that made me want to shiver every couple of seconds. My heart skipped two beats when I suddenly was sure the wrap had slid across me. My eyes widened, and I had to stop myself just in time from lifting and turning my head to check. That would guarantee what I was afraid off. And lift my lovely breasts off the ground, even if. Instead, I concentrated on the sensations coming from below.

Putting aside the egg for the moment, as it was back to being my friend again, I felt my hands still at the small of my back. After a moment I was certain the same spot on my wrists was still covered. I considered my thighs and hips, and after a few more moments was relieved to decide it was just the lovely silk rippling the outer layers across the inner. The wrap was too heavy to be moved by even a moderate wind. I was sure of it. Those layers of wonderful material I was so fond of were just so intimate in their caress, so true in their transmission of sensation.

I always felt at my feminine best when I wore silk because it was just a lovely feeling. My girlfriend Becky didn’t know exactly why I liked silk so much, but she’d once told me the guy I was seeing that night didn’t have a chance. I hadn’t bothered to wear any silk for the date. I gave her a huff, but hours later I had to admit she was right when I told him off for ignoring me, which I’d been sure he was going to do anyway. If I hadn’t been so sure, I’d have worn something I’d enjoy more.

For now, the loved silk was still delicately draped across my rear. I dared not wiggle my hips nor shift my wrists, not even flick a finger. I settled for a sigh, then blinked as I heard a lawnmower on the other side of our fence start up. My close neighbors, on the far side of our property from the pool lovers. That was probably for the best, I thought as I reminded myself this guy never let his grass go more than three days between cuttings except in the dead of winter. I had forgotten to check his grass height before I set myself on this adventure; now it was too late. I shrugged mentally again. It shouldn’t matter. He was older too, a very businesslike guy. He cut his grass, then went back inside. I hadn’t actually talked to them for more than about two sentences since I was, like, ten, but I was pretty sure he only did it because his wife loved the grass to be neat; he wasn’t actually into his yard like a lot of suburban husbands were.

Nothing for it. We said hi in passing when we saw one another, but nothing more these past few years. I did turn my head to the other side, away from his yard. This way I could feign sleep, just in case. That should kick back in the “oh I’m staring at the girl next door” reflex that was serving as my second line of defense. Even if it didn’t, I was still covered. Technically. Get an eyeful old man, I thought with a sexy thrill of pleasure, as I grinned without moving my head, actively suppressing an urge to wiggle my hips. I’m nubile and hot, lying here oiled up like one of the swimsuit models in that magazine you tell your wife you only get because it also comes with the year’s sports subscription and the football telephone. Nothing about this can get me in trouble; I’m sleeping in the sun in my own backyard. Go ahead and look; you can’t tell anyone something that does more than make you what you are. A peeping tom.

I giggled, every so softly, still centered on keeping myself ever so delicately ‘covered’. I definitely felt extremely naughty lying there in my own cooling wet spot, holding myself motionless against the flick and ripple of breeze, the sun’s baking rays, the tremulous residual quivers of two near orgasms, and my buddy, the anal egg. If my parents were to come home right now and step out on the porch, say the hotel got robbed and mom is having one of her fits or something. But if my dad were to arrive home at this moment and stand on his back porch, and look at his daughter on the lawn, he’d see my bare and sticky cunt nestled within the not very shadowed center of my legs. He’d see the chain, glistening with cum I’m sure, that split the length of my sex.

It made my insides quiver for different reasons, the absolutely dirty thought of daddy catching me like this. He still thought of me as trying on my first cheerleader uniform. The one I wore for my nine year old Halloween costume. As if. I was already practically in college; I just hadn’t picked one yet from all the acceptance letters I had. He suspected a few prior boyfriends and I had “gotten indecent”, and would probably have to borrow some of mom’s valiums if he knew the real number, but generally ignored a few things like that if I was generally well behaved. He clung to the innocent image of me as his sweet little daughter. I was his only daughter, his only child, and he doted on me. I wondered how he would resolve the dichotomy if I forced him to accept that I was both that and sexual. He told me I was cute and looked “more grown up every day” when I wore a sexy outfit.

I wrinkled my nose and gave a huff. Kids, I knew that would be the answer if I tried to have it out. Get married and bury my sexuality within the marriage for the next fifty years; until death do us part. No thanks, a girl needs her secrets if she’s expected to keep the family peace. Can’t have anyone in therapy because I had to be a slut. I giggled again, that’s what my mom would say as she marched me inside, tits bouncing as she would drag me along by one elbow. I felt dirty again, and had draw a slow, deep breath after I finished giggling. I loved the way being trapped like this made me feel. The sensation of sudden vulnerability was absolutely titillating. It had the effect of focusing the mind. On my scant little rectangle of folded silk. On my ass, tingling as the silk rippled and shimmered lightly against my goose bumps. On what might happen.

Smiling, I drew another long, even breath in as the egg hummed merrily away within me. Fresh cut grass soon wafted strongly in the air, and I contented myself with tracking the progress of the lawnmower by the ebb and strength of its roar as my neighbor went back and forth with it. The very tops of my thighs had little cooling spots where my trickles of desire had pulsed just enough to trace wet streaks. My labia, still spread though I could feel the cream slowly drying sticky again, surely glistened within the perfect position of risky nudity I’d placed myself within. My nipples had been hard for hours now, surely it was hours if my neighbor was cutting his lawn on a Saturday afternoon. He never got home early on Saturdays; he worked an odd schedule that gave him Sunday and Monday as his ‘weekend’.

Not too much more, I thought as I lay quietly. My nudity was completely beneath notice, beyond notice, unless someone came into the yard. I stifled a gasp, then giggled. The thought of a rapist was a distant one, but suddenly a scenario far more relevant than usual. Even on my earlier self bondage excursions, I did them in the house. Sure some of them had those little voyeur flairs that gave me that extra thrill, but those were things involving lights behind my closed window shade if I leaned too far forward, or pictures snapped with my web cam if I didn’t stay up on my toes or something. I was still in a locked house.

Now, I was outside. Say some maniac came over the fence. Not even a maniac. It could be as simple as that new family one block over; what if they had a son or something in just the right age bracket to think with his dick instead of his head. I inhaled with excited fright as I pondered a guy wandering into the back yard for some reason, and ending up standing next to me. Unless he came over the fence, he’d come from the gate, which would mean he’d notice not only my spread vulva, but the chain too, and the obvious condition of my delicate feminine places.

He would loom over me as I lay trapped on the blanket, hoping against hope he’d not noticed. But he would. He’d trace his eyes down my form, and know if he could see my cunny, I was naked beneath the wrap. He’d see the edges of the bikini top beneath me, with the strings tucked away, and that would mean tits. At that point, as if my total nudity down below hadn’t been enough, his hormones would start processing in exclusion mode. I giggled. He’d try to talk to me, and eventually notice I never moved my hands to tie my top back together.

As the lawnmower died, I was curling my toes and making little silent noises of terror as my imagined captor whisked me off to his car, flung over his shoulder like a toy, driven off to be used for his pleasure and the media’s perversion. I shook my head with a tiny motion as I realized the steady hum of the lawnmower had lulled me into an actual daze. Blinking, I darted my eyes around the yard without lifting my head, checking shadows again. Longer still, but still light. In fact, I saw smoke rising two doors down, and knew they were doing their second favorite thing with the pool; cooking out next to it.

At least the guy knew how to do it. I was stuck on my nude front, but if I could stand to see over the fence, he’d be there with a beer, talking to his buddy as he burned wood chips and special grilling charcoal down to coals. If they could see me, they’d stop talking about the stupid football game. I giggled as I imagined the looks on their faces if I were to, if the back door had been left unlocked, suddenly rise and scamper stark nude in to the house in a flash of flesh and a trailing wisp of silk. Naughty Jennifer, that was me. The randomizer terminated that line of thought, ironically, as it kicked over another term.

After the first several gasps, which quickly put me back into my breathing routine, I thought it wasn’t so bad. My clit was only getting hit with a moderate buzz, more than the last time, but not as heavy as the first. As I compelled the urge to squirm, the egg suddenly rippled through a wave of ascending vibrations. It started gentle, but strengthened second by second, until it was buzzing at the highest setting. I bit my lower lip and, against every bit of judgment I thought I possessed, squirmed.

I couldn’t help it; the damned egg held at the highest setting just long enough to combine with the butterfly, and it hit buttons in parts of me only a doctor could point to. I squirmed only an inch, my eyes flying open as wide as I felt the wrap moving. I pressed myself firmly against the beach towel, feeling the soft grass beneath that, thick enough to have some slight spring even after hours of my weight. The humming and tickling and internal fondling was driving me bonkers as I lay there and panted, struggling to hold still and remember my breathing. The egg clicked off, and I now knew I had scored one of the really mean combinations in my randomizer. Ignoring that, I traced my mind and senses over the slightly less reassuring weight of silk across my bare ass and sighed.

It had just shifted a tiny bit, on the non-pool-neighbors side thankfully, though I was sure I had suffered only a minor scare. Just a tiny smidge more of my hip was exposed than before, that was all. I sighed in relief, then my eyes widened in fear again as I braced against the next bout of vibrations from the egg. This time, I wasn’t surprised when the toy started its cascade of sensation, but I still let out a moan through my teeth on my lip. I searched for the knot in the fence, and held my gaze on it as a fixed reference point even as my body threatened to betray me by twitching, or worse.

After the first few egg waves, I had tingling goose bumps all over my body. My skin was also lightly sweating, which made it worse. Each little drop slid across my skin like ice as they slowly collected enough weight to fall. The ones gathering in my cleavage were the most ticklish, as they traced down my breasts before vanishing into the bikini top I lay squashed against. I had managed to steady myself into a set pattern of inhales and exhales, focusing fiercely on the rise and fall of my lungs, ignoring the complaining of my nearly forgotten and lonely nipples as my breasts took the brunt of my breathing. I was deathly afraid of what this setting might do to me, and spared what few scraps of thought I had left to pray for darkness soon. Cold chills shot through me, merging with the delicious shivers and tremors that were plying upon my sexual release.

If I came, I was going to probably lose the wrap. I tried to keep the thought from my head. If I kept on about it, that’s what would happen. Deep breath in. Oh there goes the egg. I exhaled instead of gasping, blinked my eyes, then inhaled evenly despite the thrumming within my loins. If I lose the wrap, I should probably streak into the garden shed. Don’t think about it. I suppressed another shudder as the egg continued its programmed journey through my ass remorselessly. Breathe out, slow, ahhh. Oohhhh.

When the butterfly suddenly clicked off, and turned back over to the egg, I was beyond desperate. I had started doing sums, but gave it up as a bad idea as I barely kept an internal shiver from becoming an external disaster. Math was not my thing unaided. Instead, I was naming every single member of my family, and every kid or cousin they or I had, what kind of shoes they normally wore, and whether or not I liked talking to them at get togethers. Somewhere in my dad’s half of the extended family, well down into the list of relatives I had only met a few times, the toys blessedly had mercy upon me and ceased their relentless toil.

Well the butterfly did; the egg just returned to a still gentle, but now definitely insistent, setting as the new resting rate. I sighed in relief, drew a deep breath, then closed my eyes and sighed again. Oh good. I won’t show my ass to the entire world. Yet. I giggled and felt the wind as a sudden chill across my vulnerable nude form. Sweat and other fluids were cooling, I was due for a huge bubble bath when I finished up my adventure. For now, I lay there and tried not to drift away into the dreamy glow of near orgasm. The smell of cooking meat helped; my neighbor had thrown his steaks and chicken on the grill. It had to be getting late. They religiously ate at six.

I heard more cars on the roads beyond the fences that scribed the only other bit of privacy that guarded my trapped little body. People were going home, coming back from their errands and finishing up their days out and about. This was a quiet place to live, with quiet people. Not like me. They buttoned up at night, at least for idle reasons. I could hear very faint voices over the still indiscernible mumble of laughter and conversation wafting my way from poolside, mothers calling to children, or maybe wives calling to husbands.

I suddenly giggled. From what I gathered on the internet, bondage wasn’t that uncommon. One of those wives in this neighborhood, surely, was probably already awaiting her husband. She’s been tied up in the bedroom all afternoon. I felt a very naughty trickle of lubrication dripping down my cunt and shifted my head slightly with a moan, as I imagined some young housewife preparing herself for her husband. Right when I was setting myself into this adventure, she was putting herself into hers. He’ll find out when he comes upstairs after finishing working on the car, or whatever manly thing he was doing outside. More giggling, and I finally broke off the fantasy with a remorseful sign. I was so into it, imaging what the wife might have done to restrain and torment herself while she awaited her mister master, it was starting to make me dangerously hot.

Now I was sure of it; the sun was starting to go down. I heard the clink of silverware against plates, and once the clink of wine glasses. They were always toasting something or another, usually good life and long health or some such. I rolled my eyes with a grin, wondering if they’d give me some of the wine if I rushed over, bound and nude, and gave them a story about a horrible man having attacked me in my own backyard. That train of thought was going to get me into trouble too, so I snipped it in the bud and instead noticed the wind definitely seemed stronger. I glanced upwards, still without lifting my head. The sky was darkening, but it seemed a little too early. I was eager for the safety of darkness, and the delights of phase two, but not at the expense of rain.

Sure enough, I was certain minutes later when I saw clouds appearing, and the wind strengthened further. I groaned. This was not good. I was almost used to the silk by now, the way it felt as if it were always about to flip off and away. Now it really was about to be whisked from me. I could feel the edges actively rippling, and when I turned to my head to look, saw the silk, multi layered though it was, was definitely in danger of yielding to the wind. Damnit. Now my vulnerability wasn’t exciting, it was shot through with a wide streak of fear. Oh shit. Please oh please.

I felt like squirming more strongly than ever, something I always did when I was nervous, but if ever it had mattered during this ordeal so far, it mattered now for me to yield fully to the invisible chains that may have well kept me there as if glued. Almost clinging to the towel I lay upon, I felt my breath coming in frightened pants as the wrap continued to ripple in the storm front. I had a surge of hope. Maybe the rain will start before the wrap is blown off; wet silk should be almost impossible for the wind to do anything with. I peered hopefully at the sky again, which was really darkening quickly. I realized the yard was actually taking on a dimmer shade than a normal overcast.

I couldn’t hear anything above the wind any more. It was impossible to tell if my neighbors had called it a day and retreated to the comforts of their equally nice home. Again, standing to check was out. I lay motionless, internally quivering with fear and suppressed screams, as the wind teased me with steadily stronger pushes against my wrap. Whichever edge I looked at, and I was turning my head back and forth regularly now to check the entire wrap constantly, it looked like a shimmering wave of color and shifting patterns as the material lifted from the ground and fluttered innocently. Hah! Each time it rippled I just about died. I normally would have found it beautiful, but now it was a scary portend that carried malice.

So I was poised on a motionless quiver of an edge when one particularly evil current dipped through my blonde hair and around my prone and trapped form. It rustled down my back and flowed around my hips, sending a ripple the long length of my wrap as it lay across the very top of my hips. A moment later, when this turned into an upward flip and slide that did draw a, thankfully small, scream from me, I snatched at the wrap with my fingers. I didn’t move my hands, but made a convulsing, twisting grab that gave me a two fisted fold of fabric. My ass was tingling like it used to when I got in trouble in grade school, a feeling of disaster that was a mainline to primal fear and instant responses.

The wrap had slid, almost an inch, before I gripped it. It had stopped, but the far edges were still fluttering heavily. With a calm sense of urgency that I would have turned into panic save for the need to remain still on the ground, I noticed the wrap had slid almost an inch. A delicate line of hip was clearly exposed on both sides now; showing the tan line where my bikini strings normally lay, today’s very faint tan line, and a very inviting expanse of flesh that seemed terribly enthralling to me. I was so fixed on glancing down either side of myself, checking how much exposure I was leaving as the wind continued to build towards something approaching an actual howl, it took me a few minutes to realize the worst of the damage.

The middle of the back edge, right along the bottom curve of my ass, had ridden up. I had twisted my fingers into the silk when I made my grab, and this had tightened up the wrap’s width right in the middle, at the bottom split of my ass cheeks. I noticed it when I felt a strong breath of wind right into my cheeks, and noticed where the edges were fluttering as they covered less of my nudity than before. I didn’t dare release the wrap, and my hands were cuffed together; I couldn’t smooth it back down. Showing a little bit of naughty was better than having the whole wrap whisk into the wind and laying out the whole laundry list of naughty. I felt a blush spreading across my cheeks, soon spreading down my chest to my breasts, where my nipples began to tingle lightly. The embarrassment, the feeling of “surely no one is watching” combined with “what if someone is watching”, and the threat of weather induced personal humiliation, kept me glued to the ground even as I felt my insides more ready than ever for release after the afternoon of teasing.

The rate clouds were moving across the sky didn’t surprise me, when I was finally able to tear my fascinated eyes from one end of the wrap or the other, and glance up again. It was quite dark; either I was wrong about just exactly when it was, or there was a, like, huge storm coming in. I was having trouble making out the tops of houses now, so it wouldn’t be too long now. Soon I’d be onto phase two, which would definitely lead to some sexual release.

This was not the right frame of mind to be drifting into. I’d become so entranced by my dancing silk tormenter, and its fait accomplice the weather, the steady presence of the egg had faded from my tracking. So when it clicked back on, along with the butterfly, I was so startled I did the unthinkable. I bucked my hips in surprise with a grunt that turned to a strangled gasp of horror as my eyes bulged in panic. The wind timed its gust with my traitor hips’ motion, and caught under the wrap with a strong lifting energy. Both ends of the wrap flipped up and back, and I felt the layers of silk tug against my grip as the wind whipped the garment momentarily.

I felt more starkly nude than I ever have in my entire life, as the wind wicked down my back and caressed my naked ass and hips in a way that actually felt good. The wrap settled to the ground between my thighs, draping itself across the crack of my ass as it trailed away in my forlorn grip. I wasn’t quite nude, I thought wildly as I regained, and kept for the moment, my wits and cast my head swiftly to either side to check the damage. My anal cleavage was covered, and now the drape covered between my legs. I just looked completely nude from the sides. Instead of lunging to my feet and scrambling beneath a dark bush or something, I instead checked windows in every direction.

Not all the curtains or shutters were closed; but some were. Not all were lit, but a few were. No heads, no silhouettes, nothing that looked like I was about to be someone’s funny story for the next few years. I decided to continue laying there, pretending to be asleep. I convinced myself this would work for the next fifteen minutes or so. Surely then, it’ll be dark enough, and I can get out of this predicament. It’s already too dark to make out my cuffs, and this will pass note too if someone sees. Distantly I registered the clitoral and anal vibrators were doing a little get together, each struggling to reach out through my body and damn the consequences. I was liberally creaming, and bit my lip to keep from crying out even before I noticed I had stifled myself.

I could move some now, since the whole idea of not moving had been basically blown. My hips were rolling slowly as I yielded to the pent up frustration of my afternoon. A very special tickle had started, very deep down within my eager body. It started in my ass, with a sudden, urgent, ripple of muscles that seemed to burst from the egg as it busily buzzed away. I tossed my head once, still keeping my tits pressed flat to the towel, as my clit suddenly seemed to crackle within the little devious fins and ridges that surrounded it, poked it. My hair was sheeting down my neck and shoulders under the wind’s urging, shifting and smacking against my skin like the eyes I was sure were glued to every inch of me.

If someone was watching, and they didn’t come over and blow this, I had to lay still to be able to play it off. I pressed my forehead against the ground as I turned the motion of my hips into a tiny flex and twist that was a lot less noticeable. I started to pant with a purpose when my vaginal walls suddenly began to tingle, sensitivity flooding across me as the inevitable prelude. When my abdomen contracted and sent a woosh of sensation across my pelvis, I went over the edge I’d danced along for quite some time.

Thank God it did start to rain at that moment, for I did scream as the first overwhelming release of delayed sexual gratification erupted along my svelte body. Not very loud, but still enough of a scream that, in retrospect, when I was able to remember my name and what my favorite designer was, I was glad I came during the first pattering of drops. With the rain came the crash of noise that seemed to swell and burst, wind and water slamming into the neighborhood and announcing their presence with authority. I strangled the scream into a yelp, closing my eyes and trying to breathe, just breathe, as wave after wave of pleasure hammered me.

Oh God, it was so delicious, lying there with uncontrollable twitching in my hips, in my loins, in my cunny, up and down my sides, even in my rock hard little nipples, as the toys threw me over the edge of overwhelming ecstasy with a smirk. I groaned, keeping my forehead against the towel, dimly realizing that was the only chance I had to keep this at least partially decorous. My breasts wobbled a little as I ground myself lightly, flexing my hips and shifting in a little circle. Oh God, please don’t let me scream again. I was afraid to bite my lip, it might be more than a cute gesture now. I settled for sinking my teeth into the towel, desperately gnawing a thick fold of terry cloth into my jaws so I could scream.

Throwing verbal abandon to the wind, all but literally, I bellowed into the wadded fabric I had hastily gagged myself with. My body remained on the ground, which I was thankful for, but I became aware I was rocking to one side, back and forth. I became aware of this, distantly and with a gasp of a giggle through the haze, when I realized my nipples were rising up to be kissed by the wind, then covering back up again as I rolled down again. With supreme effort, I steadied myself, even as I felt the wrap, the edges fluttering strongly in the gust front of the storm’s first shock, brush delightfully against my thighs. It was just so light and delicate, each time the wind rippled the silk into my dampening skin. I shuddered as my insides continued to spasm, biting harder on my gag.

When my hair was fully plastered to my head, and my entire body was drenched and dripping with a complete coating of water, I finally started to come down off the wave of orgasms. I spit out the damp towel and took a deep breath. Oh God, thank you. I felt myself twitching involuntarily as the butterfly and egg continued to hum, but my sexual release was emptied for the moment. I felt rain rolling down my nude form, rinsing and cleansing me of the afternoon’s exertions. It was such a thick downpour by now, my wrap was soaked through enough to let water start cleaning my sticky gross vulva.

It felt wonderful as I lay there and smiled over my plans thus far, worth every moment of lazy patience and fearful risk calculation. Groaning, I tried unsuccessfully to get myself under control, but it was hard with the toys still hammering away. My cunt, especially my clit, was starting to get to that special level of pleasure that turns it more alarming than welcome. I started twitching for another reason, and after what seemed like forever, as I started considering taking another mouthful of towel, the toys gave mercy. The butterfly faded to a very light tickle, while the egg returned to its new resting state on the strong side of light. I remembered to glance up at the sky, and noticed it was basically fully dark now. Where I didn’t see blackness, I saw thick curtains of rain.

Bad weather had moved in, and looked to stay a bit too. I was absolutely soaked, but it was a warm summer rain, so it felt nice. I decided it was dark enough to make my first dash, and bent my head to get leverage to slide my knees up beneath me. My breasts wobbled beneath me as I pushed myself to onto my feet for the first time in hours. As wetness fell upon my bare tits, I felt horribly exposed, and that naughty thrill shot through me again. I kept the silk wrap clutched in my bound hands, it trailed wetly behind me as I rose and started moving. The rain felt exciting as it hit my breasts and cunt, especially when a little dapple of drops pitter-pattered onto my mons mound. Still feeling vulnerable and visible, I hurried my motions as much as I could.

I left the sodden beach towel where it was, and trotted, well kinda, over to the garden shed in the back corner of our property. As my breasts started bouncing, like, hugely, I slowed down with a half giggle, half wince. I’d left the shed door unlocked earlier, with the padlock in the hasp but not closed. Hitching myself up, I turned, feeling even more violently exposed, to put my bound hands at the hasp and knob. I had to raise up on my toes and reach up with my bound wrists to get at the hasp; this thrust my breasts out delectably. My tits, both nipples violently pink and as hard as erasers, bounced quite eagerly as my fingers quickly lifted the lock free and turned the knob. I glanced wildly all around, checking yards, porches, and windows. The coast was blessedly clear, near as I could tell. Visibility was very limited, and I saw no signs of shapes or people; if I couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see me.

Pushing the door open behind me, I dropped the lock near the entrance and stepped back until I could swing the door closed. As it shut, casting the room in absolute darkness I breathed out and grinned shakily. I was far too clever for my own good. A moment later, there was a click as the sensor I’d installed in the door jamb registered another close, and activated a power strip. Turning, my tits still wobbling with every motion, I flexed my wrists in my locked cuffs and considered the single small pool of light in the far corner of the shed. A small pile of gear lay ominously under the lamp I’d dragged out here from my room and plugged in.

Grinning, I first went over to the workbench and spent a few moments draping my silk wrap across the corner. When I was satisfied it was reasonably flat, and due for a dry cleaning, I shuffled closer to the lamp, and dropped to my knees next to the gear I’d laid out for myself. The cheap vinyl tiles my dad had put down in the shed were cold and hard as I knelt.

Looking down at my nude form, I decided I probably looked like a pinup girl, with my damp blonde hair and completely nude and shaved body, with innocent but sexy beads of water dripping and resting all across my wet, glistening skin. The folds of my cunt were peeping sexily out from the tops of my thighs, and my little pink nipples were still prominent on my out thrust breasts. I giggled and gave a little wiggle, then sighed and composed myself somewhat.

Becky had never understood why I spent two weeks in my junior year dating one of the geeks from the A/V club. I told her he was kinda cute and was helping me with my homework, which was true. But he also knew quite a bit about gizmos and gadgets. I ended up getting several little things from him, though I doubted he knew just what I was doing with what I’d learned. My love of self bondage had driven me to figure out some of the possibilities I saw with certain things, and I used my natural strengths to acquire what I wanted. See daddy, blondes do have more fun.

Within the garden shed, my key to the house was trapped. On the ceiling, I had placed a simple little electromagnet. My key was brass and didn’t stick worth a damn, but the key ring it was strung on was nice shinny steel; and it clung to the round magnet like glue. The second power was interrupted, the key would fall. I had installed a special little breaker in the electromagnet; after fifteen hours of use, the breaker would fail and interrupt power. So it was safe; gravity was my backup here.

But to turn the power off early, I had set up a little series of connected events. One led to another, cumulating in the electromagnet dropping the precious key to my front door. Step one was a little gross, but I liked how it both tended to my obvious needs after an afternoon in the sun, and also forced me into a humiliating position in order to get what I wanted. I had a flat dish of water laid out; I had thoughtfully filled it as full as possible with ice before adding just a little water. Now it was mostly melted, with still a few small pieces of resting quietly on the surface. Halfway down the side of the pan, I had positioned a tiny moisture sensor. When it was dry, it would trip its circuit. Or if it failed; all of my little gizmos were wired so they had to have power to stay in the punishment setting. Just another bit of safety.

With nothing for it, and also since I was pretty dry in the mouth after the long afternoon, I laid myself flat on the floor, giggling as my hard nipples contacted the cool tiles. I slid and wiggled until I could dip my head in the pan, and started drinking. Lapping was right out; I might as well wait for the damn backup breaker. I quickly determined the fastest way was to take a deep breath, then submerge my face until my lips and mouth were beneath the surface. Then I could slurp and suck a big mouthful in, and tip back to swallow. I was wallowing a bit, but with the rain drenching I really didn’t notice it much at all. I was careful not to cheat, and simply knock my pan over. I hadn’t left anything else out that I could drink, unless I wanted to sneak up next to the house and use a hose.

So like a good little submissive, I stretched my lithe and trim form out before the pan and drank until I could see the entire sensor was completely above water. It felt like at least two of the bottles I normally drank, over an entire morning or afternoon, in my stomach when I finally rolled away and sighed. I was still wet and completely nude, but now I wasn’t thirsty. I waited a few minutes, and then nature started to demand the obvious need after all that liquid following a long afternoon without a break.

I pushed upright and walked over to the darkest corner, where I found a tiny LED blinking slowly. This was the litter box I’d setup, but with one extra addition. Everyone thought I was so cute and selfless, volunteering to help with the special ed kids from the junior high. Well, ok, so maybe a little. But I’d also taken the chance to pick one of those bed wetting screens they put in kid’s beds when they haven’t learned how to wake up before peeing in their sleep. I had wired this one into my little bondage circuit board, and laid it across the litter box with a disposable, duh, LED run off a watch battery to guide me. The interior of the shed was pitch black, much darker than outside, and I couldn’t make anything out except the dull blink of my little red beacon.

But I found the litter box by shuffling around with my feet, and managed to get into an undignified squat over my target. I felt my vagina spreading open from the split of my legs, and simply released my bladder with a sigh. The sound wasn’t nearly as embarrassing as I’d expected it might be; the rain on the roof helped drown it out. I kept my legs spread widely, and squatted low, to help minimize any icky splashes. It seemed to go on forever, but finally my flow trickled off and stopped. I raised myself and scooted back, then went over to the workbench. I had wedged a box of quick wipes into one of the lower shelves, and I squatted with a little turn to tug one of the wipes out with my cuffed hands. My fingers were helpless for most anything I wanted to do right now, but I was able to clean myself properly. Can’t have anything undignified showing up on my next doctor’s visit; oh dear, what would mother say.

Finished, I tossed the wipe on the floor for the cleanup I would be doing later, after my adventure was finished, and checked the circuit board. Two green LEDs had lit; success. I grinned and turned to look again at the bondage gear I’d left spot lit within the lamp’s illumination. No particular order, but I had an idea which I thought was probably easiest. So I looked at the ball gag I had laid out in the middle of a piece of paper. This was a ball gag I had modified for this adventure; the straps were long and rigidly bent, coated with Velcro on both sides. The straps were the slap/snap kind; they were flexed to hold a straight position, but if you nudged or slapped at them, they curled back up. Now I bent my head down low, leaning forward on widely stretched knees, and flipped and shook my hair until it was all off my neck. I giggled to think of the view I was providing from the door, as I splayed my wet cunt out.

When I was satisfied with the drape of my blonde locks, I shuffled sideways atop the ball gag, carefully to keep from touching it. Delicately, I leaned down and positioned my mouth above the soft solid ball. Parting my lips, I opened wide and bit down on the gag from just the right angle, with just the right amount of sudden motion. The straps flexed and broke into curls, whipping up around my neck. Just right, I thought, as one strap slapped me lightly on the neck just before the other crashed atop the first. I grunted and lifted my face from the piece of paper, feeling the straps hugging me securely. I had swallowed the ball behind my teeth before biting down, and the straps had held that tension. Velcro had found purchase all along my neck as the straps came together and held against the pressure I tried to generate with my lips and tongue to force the ball out of my mouth. The gag was trapped within my lips now until I got my hands free and could reach my face to remove it with fingers.

I had also drilled out some space in the middle of the gag, and now a battery and a tiny device rested inside the toy. A wire led to a tiny sensor that was glued to the inner surface of the gag. It was a heat and moisture sensor, constantly checking for conditions that equated those I’d tested and programmed in for the gag being fixed firmly in my mouth. Glancing up at little circuit board I’d propped up on the workbench, I saw another green LED amid the reds. Perfect.

Eager for my self bondage plans to continue, craving more restriction, I shuffled close enough to twist around and grabbed the leg shackles with my bound hands. Pulling my legs up beneath me, I fumbled in the shadows cast by the single light as I craned my head over my shoulders, or down the side of my hips, as I struggled into the restraints with my hands still locked behind me. I ignored the liberal bouncing and swelling of my breasts as I laboriously donned the shackles. These restraints were simple enough; leather cuffs that buckled around my thighs at the knee, and another set around my ankles too.

When I was done, glittering tiny linked chains connected my knees with a short amount of play, my ankles with a touch more slack, and a central chain that connected both knees and ankles together. Now I couldn’t spread my legs very far, and couldn’t straighten out past a slight bend of the knees. More sensors, heat and galvanic skin testers, were attached to the insides of the cuffs. They registered the proper conditions as I further restrained myself, and lit another LED in the green.

Next I decided to do the temporary tattoos, properly marking myself. I had left three pairs of tattoo transfer sheets on the floor of the shed, each next to a large convenience store mega cup full of water. Now I shuffled over to the nearest, just beyond the sole rim of light within the shed, and leaned over to knock the cup with my head. It tipped and spilled water across the two sheets of tattoos, soaking them and starting the reactions that let the dye coat skin for a day or so. Humming behind my gag, I watched patiently as the sheets softened, and the colors on the tattoo transfers brightened. Finally they were ready.

I shifted and rolled down on my side, then pulled my legs and feet up behind me as if in a hogtie so I could roll flat on my front. Then I lifted my chest up and shuffled slowly forward on my hips and thighs. I inched and huffed along with my tits jiggling and wobbling just clear of the floor, until I had put my breasts into position above each of the transfer sheets. Biting my lip in concentration, and blessing the hours of cheerleading that had given me a stomach toned enough to do this without pain, I lowered myself slowly and carefully onto the transfers. I got it just about right; directly above each nipple.

Grinning, I pressed myself firmly to the ground, feeling my breasts compress and swell out around me. I didn’t just lay there, I grunted and pushed myself down with a solid bit of force. Then I lay motionless, with sweat and rainwater still dripping from me, as I counted silently behind my gag. When I reached the proper number, I heaved my tits off the transfers and stared down at them. Now imprinted in large glittering letters, just above each nipple, was the word “slut”. The reflective dye was blue and purple and silver, and the words themselves seemed to be haphazardly shaped from sloppy letters. I felt a very naughty thrill shoot through me as I struggled carefully to my feet. No explaining things away now, not even the restraints could make the story worse than that vulgar word on my bare boobs if I were seen or caught.

When I had struggled upright, I was feeling decidedly aroused at my own predicament, as the vulnerability and risk of my circumstances started delighting me. Next to the circuit board, I had positioned a light sensor. This one was looking for certain kinds of colored light, such as that now glinting from the glittered letters imprinted across my naked breasts. I waved my nipples in front of the sensor, twisting my body to catch angles from the room’s lamp, and after a moment another LED lit green.

The last item under the lamp’s spotlight was a simple waist chain. I got it wrapped around my waist by lying on the ground and rolling, then spending some time shifting and passing it between both bound hands to position properly. After I secured it, I reached between my legs and unclipped the egg chain from the front of my butterfly, still snugly glued to my mons and resting innocently on my attentive clit. Leaving the egg chain to dangle free, I used the padlock hooked into the middle of the waist chain to clip and secure my wrist cuffs to the small of my back.

As the padlock clicked closed, another LED lit green, all but the last were now green. I was on my final task. A second lamp lit in a different corner of the shed, obeying the very simple sequence of circuits I had cobbled together, thanks to my geek fling. My task was there; an old motorcycle seat I’d bolted to a heavy piece of wood, which was bolted to a larger piece of wood so I could put my full weight down. Mounted in the middle of the of the seat was a sizable dildo, colored and shaped realistically. There were even hairy balls at its base, resting on the seat and making me giggle as usual. I could see the wires running from beneath the seat, down to the battery that powered the temperature sensor concealed within the dildo.

Testing that had been a dream. I just kept fucking myself with it, leaving it buried deep inside, over and over, and telling myself it was for science. As fun as it had been, I also managed to generate a complete set of temperature readings that matched what my body did to the dildo based on friction and body heat. I had taken a good measurement based on liberal friction with normal body heat, then backed off from there just for extra safety. The result was waiting in the circuit; at a certain point, when the sensor was happy, I would close the circuit.

Now I shuffled over and straddled myself above the looming sex toy with a mixture of dread and anticipation, giving my hips and ass a flip to swing the egg chain clear. This was a large dildo, too large to be comfortable unless I was very excited. I shuddered and closed my eyes as the tip rubbed thickly through my vulva, spreading my inner labia apart, and manipulating my clit as I rotated the top of my butterfly into the dildo. That made me gasp, and I shifted to grinding my hips along the toy, back and forth, until I was wet. Then I started dipping deeper, wiggling and shifting until I felt the toy slide smoothly into my accommodating and vulnerable body.

Gasping against the gag, making a vague mumbling moan, I flexed my toned and tanned thighs and started fucking myself up and down along the dildo’s shaft. I felt absolutely dirty, just as bad as my tits said I was, as I gyrated rhythmically on the dildo. It was soon slick with my excess cream, and shortly after that I could feel trickles on my knees where they had spread across the leather seat to the edges. I kept at it, even as I started biting firmly at the gag in my mouth, even as my bouncing and flailing tits started to pulse with tingles of pre orgasmic warning. I could feel my labia spreading and rubbing on the soft surface of the fake cock, feel my clit flexing as my cunt spread and rippled with motion, feel the full thickness of the dildo deep inside me as I plunged it within myself on each bounce of my thighs.

I had to raise the temperature of the dildo past a certain point above ambient. As the dildo slipped deeper and deeper with each minute of wild self fucking I gave it, I was getting more and more of it inside. I was rubbing my private, most intimate parts frantically across the toy, eager to get it as hot as I was. I felt my remaining sense of decorum fleeing as I crashed over into a huge orgasm. My legs quivered against the chains that constrained them, and I could hear the jingle and rattle of links and rings as my body heaved. My skin was fully flushed, dappled with sweat, my hair was flying about me in a damp mass of blonde abandon, and all I could concentrate on was how good it felt to grind and bounce on the dildo that was stretching my cunt so deliciously. I howled into the gag, thankful for the rain that continued to hammer down outside, as I started coming in powerful surges that flexed my hips and set me rising and falling on the wet dildo to a whole new beat.

My vaginal walls would contract in sequence, causing my thighs to flex and lift, as I squealed into the gag and felt my nipples tingle. As I raised myself, vibrations and transferred tugs made my protruding clit wiggle, which sent a shiver of energy through me like fire. When I threw my head back and gave a strangled scream, my tits would bounce hugely, which made me yank at my wrist cuffs as I wanted to cup and caress my tender breasts. Of course, when I helplessly tugged on my wrists, that moved my shoulders, which made my poor boobs wiggle and wobble more, which just set my nipples tingling all over again. And then I would let my ass slap down against the creaking motorcycle seat, squealing and crying out into my gag as I impaled myself to the hilt on the dildo. Each time I landed on the seat, there was a wet squish, and I felt the rough leather rubbing across my engorged labia as I squealed.

The orgasm was just the tip of an avalanche, as my body exploded with the entire day’s pent up patience, careful planning, and delayed release. As I bounced myself wantonly on the dildo, I could feel my quivering vaginal walls clasping hungrily at it. I screamed into the gag, taking full advantage of my helplessness, in the filling reassurance of the ball, the isolation of the shed, as I thrashed and let out muffled cries of unadulterated passion. I wasn’t counting, but after the first several, the orgasmic contractions melded together into a total flush of energy that sent me into even wilder spasms. I ground my hips frantically up and down on the dildo, grinding to the left and the right as the chains tugged on my ankles and knees and made me wobble even further back and forth. The added pressure of the dildo against one side of my cunny or the other was simply electrifying, and finally I could take no more.

I came to a halt, resting on the dildo, feeling it fill me all the way up, and heard my own panting as that of a stranger. My chest was heaving, and I glanced down to see my nipples were a turgid shade of darkest pink I had never achieved before. I didn’t have the breath to giggle, but it made me smile stuffily around the gag, and I tipped my head back towards the ceiling. Breathe in. Oh wow. Breathe out. Oh God, wow. My body hadn’t stopped, afterglow and aftershocks were plying at my restrained and nude form deliciously, making me squirm even as I struggled to regain control of myself. My nostrils flared as I drew a deep breath through my nose, finally feeling my pulse begin to calm, and I looked at the circuit board.

I giggled, for the LED was now glowing a friendly, satisfying shade of green. I wanted to pump my fist in the air and cheer, but settled for rattling my chains and feeling my tits bounce vulnerably on my chest. My passion was up to the task, Jennifer for the win! I giggled again, and tried to lift myself off the dildo. I underestimated the full impact of my explosion of self restrained sexual triumph though, and my knees and thighs refused to lift me more than half way off the dildo. Grunting, I collapsed back down with rubbery legs, hearing a distinct wet slap as my still elongated labia squished into the motorcycle seat, squealing as they compressed beneath me with a tingle and clasped wetly around the toy impaling me.

Maybe I’ll just cuddle with my beloved tormenting toy for a few minutes, I decided hazily. Some air would do me good, I thought with a smile as I went back to focusing on my breathing. I listened to the patter of rain on the roof start to trickle off, the storm must be passing, and closed my eyes, concentrating on the gentle sound of water against metal to steady myself. The aftershocks became merely afterglow, which literally spread warmly through me from head to toes. I felt so good, the ick factor of the wet dildo, like, still inside me, really didn’t bother me very much. When I could breathe completely normally, however, I tried to stand up.

This time I was successful, feeling the dildo slide out of my cunt with a faint wet slurp of regret. My thighs and vulva were sticky again, but now I couldn’t reach anything except the back of my waist with my trapped hands. I was forced to walk covered in my own desire to the middle of the shed’s open floor, where the key had landed sometime during my mad bout on my makeshift saddle impaler. With each step, the egg chain swung from my ass, tugging at the toy still buried within me; it made my hips wiggle seductively as I walked, squirming from the feeling inside me. Dropping again to my knees, I tipped carefully over onto my side with a grunt, and felt for the key. When my fingers closed onto it, my heart suddenly started hammering a mile a minute.

Oh shit. I lay there on the floor of the shed, clutching the front door key in my cuffed hands, and realized I now had to follow through with my plan. Just walk across the backyard, through the gate, around the front corner of the house, to the front flower bed. Get the handcuffs key and free my hands, and then simply go unlock my front door and disappear inside.

Stark nude, and completely shaved like a porn star, with cum juice all across her vulva and thighs, and engorged and spread labia that indicated recent sex. And a silver chain leading up into her absolutely gorgeous ass. A wet and naked blonde, wearing a ball gag and harness shackles, with glittering letters on her ample and out thrust breasts that spell out “slut”. Right above her perky nipples, so they won’t be missed. Sure I was tanned, but basically I was a eye catching stunner of a white shape in the darkness, if I was seen. Damnit, that would really suck. I realized I didn’t hear rain on the shed’s roof any more, and my heart sank further.

It suddenly was more frightening than exciting, and I had to force myself to struggle up on my knees, then push upright. Shuffling my steps, feeling my leg chains pull and tug against my strides, wincing as the egg chain started swinging again, I made my way over to the door and pushed gently against it. I laid my face against the crack and peered out. It was dark, I could barely see the house. Encouraged, I pushed the door further with my shoulder, and poked my head out to see a little better.

After my first good look, I started to panic again. Following the storm, the weather was clear again. Just like most times, the rain had blown in quick, and out just as fast. There was a tiny sliver of moon in the sky now, and a constant backscatter of light from the city and roads, but otherwise dark. It didn’t seem all that dark though; I could see clear across the fences in both directions. And I was fucking naked, I was a beacon in the night. My damp towel, still spread out in the grass as an afterthought, seemed to almost glow in the dimness that surrounded it. It was just what I looked like. There was no way I could get back into the house without a huge scene.

I felt like crying, but as I struggled against my inhibitions, a thought occurred to me. I had spent quite some time outside in the dusk, and then more in the shed with only a small lamp. My eyes were probably pretty well adjusted. I peered around again, and rapidly decided that had to be the case. That gave me a chance; people in the houses would have light adapted eyes. When they glanced out their windows, they’d see just another dark night after a storm. I pondered, chewing lightly on the gag that was fixed firmly in my mouth, then nodded with a firm set in my jaw. I was not spending the night in the shed, shackled and cuffed like a white slave. This was my adventure, and I was going to streak inside.

I really hoped I didn’t get seen though, I thought as I looked around one final time to see if there were any witnesses. Then I felt with my fingers to make sure I still had the house key. With a deep breath that made my nostrils flare widely, very nice, I pushed the door open enough to slip my vulnerable form out. The shed had been a little stuffy, almost warm after the nice day; now out here in the night air, I immediately felt cold. My nipples stiffened and crinkled almost immediately, and I rubbed my thighs together with a jingle of chains as I felt breeze gusting across my wet streaks. When my thighs touched, it felt gooey at first, then slicker as friction from my rubbing skin warmed the stains. My vulva rubbed together from the pressure of my legs, and the egg chain slapped against the back of my legs like a goading whip. I felt my pulse well above normal, thumping in my throat and wrists like an applauding audience, and quickly decided to ignore the chill.

Shuffling rapidly, which made my breasts bounce seductively, I made my way across the back lawn, towards the gate on the side of the house. My head was in constant motion, as my eyes flicked from house to house, window to window, checking everywhere with fearful expectation for any sign of someone. My chains jingled, but it was a very light sound, and I was sure it couldn’t carry that far past fences and house walls to draw unwelcome attention. Even though I continued to see nothing but houses and landscaping, I felt completely vulnerable. The egg was shifting in my ass as I made my way across the yard, and it was a deep caress that soon had my eager cunt moistening again. I groaned slightly as my hips started not just wiggling, but twitching a little. This was taking too long, I was out in the middle of the yard for everyone to see. Any moment I expected to hear a wolf whistle, or a guy shouting at his buddies to come have a look.

When I reached the fence between front and back yards, I slumped against it and paused to catch my breath. I had done little more than a sort of lumbering jog, but I was wound up enough to need a moment. I again glanced up at the house next to ours, at the window they would only be at if they were doing laundry. It was dark, and I saw no steam rising from the vent, heard no sound that indicated the room was in use. Reassured, I kept my eyes mostly there, and otherwise gratefully hugged the shadows behind the fence as I steeled myself for the next leg. Carefully, I shifted the house key in my grasp until I had looped the ring over my middle finger so I could hang onto it and still use my thumbs.

Finally I felt nervy enough to open the gate, and I felt along the fence with my back to it until my clutching fingers closed over the door style latch. My thumbs pushed the top lever down with a click that seemed to echo through the neighborhood like a shot. I winced, my cheeks blowing out behind the gag as I gave a muffled squeak of terror, and my eyes were wide as I darted them frantically about to check for any reactions.

After a minute, standing there, trussed up and nude with the handle in my cuffed hands, I convinced myself I was merely over reacting. It wasn’t that loud. Shaking my head, which sent my damp blonde locks dancing deliciously across my bare chest and back, I suppressed an anxious shiver and repositioned myself to look through, then out of, the gate. I tried to ignore the feeling of my rock hard nipples as they pushed against the wood planks of the fence. It was very distracting.

Out front, the street was empty, and I neither saw nor heard any vehicles. Driveways, porches, sidewalks, and front windows were all clear. I looked again, then a third time. Still clear. Now I did shiver, and made a low moan of terror through the gag. This was perhaps a little too exciting. No damnit, inside, let’s go. I gathered up my resolve with a toss of my head, and edged through the gate to make my way up the side of the house. On my third step, I heard the drone of an engine, and my heart leapt clear into my tonsils as I paused. I thought I saw headlights appearing from the right . . . shit it was headlights. I panicked. Spinning, I scampered back to the gate. In my haste, I pulled against my leg chains, caught my ankles awkwardly, and abruptly fell full length on my front. Restrained, I couldn’t do a thing to stop my fall; but I was so frightened that I forgot every bit of cheerleader and gymnastics training I’d ever had. I didn’t just fall, I flopped down in an undignified slam. The only thing I did correctly was pull my head back so I didn’t slam my chin into the ground and hurt myself permanently.

Breath whooshed out of me, and I grunted hollowly through the gag. My breasts burned, and it felt way worse than when I’d been dropped to the mat during a high toss. I lay there stunned for a moment, then my fear screamed through the shock and pain. The car was coming. I scrambled to my knees and lunged forward without rising, balancing precariously as I wobbled forward urgently. I threw myself into the gate, which I had thankfully left slightly ajar a moment ago. Ignoring the burst of rough and raw sensation as my erect nipples scraped across the wood, I pushed through as light brightened further on the side of the house.

As the gate clicked closed, and I struggled to calm my pounding heart, I heard a car roll past on the street right outside. The light illuminated the house above the fence for a moment, terrifying me, then was gone as the driver continued without seeing me. I wanted to close my eyes and sigh hugely, but I was busy checking the house next to me again for people. Somehow, I still had my house key; it was dangling from my clenched hands reassuringly. Once again, I convinced myself to simply plunge forward. But when I felt again for the latch, something I hadn’t allowed for in my plans happened.
My egg, humming at that same little low rate this entire time, suddenly surged to a more moderate setting. So did my butterfly, which I had almost forgotten because it was off, as it lay glued to my skin above and around my clit.

I yelped, even though it made my heart sink and set goose bumps dimpling all over my exposed form. Shifting and jumping with a jingle of chain, I cursed my earlier inattention. I hadn’t brought the remote into the shed with me, nor had I turned it off. I’d simply dashed under cover, and left the remote out there. It was waterproof enough to withstand the rain shower so it was still on, but was an IR transmitter that couldn’t penetrate the shed walls.

But now I was outside, and obviously still within range with direct line of sight. I rubbed my thighs together as my clit and ass were stimulated, unable to help myself from leaning over and bouncing. The squirm inducing tickle, the delicious little pulses that were hitting me right where it felt best, had me going in an instant. My breasts swayed beneath me as I half convulsed. This was an added element I so did not need. I raised my head and looked longingly at the spot in the yard where I’d tossed the remote so casually earlier, and couldn’t decide which was worse. Step over into that completely exposed corner of the yard, lay down naked and bound, and roll and feel around with my cuffed hands for the remote while everyone sees me from their back windows; or simply try to ignore my body and carry on. I bit the gag and stifled another squeal, as my clit demanded my attention. My body was still flush from my earlier, slutty exertions; and I was revved up enough to be going off with hardly effort at all. Now I felt my thighs starting to quiver, and knew I had to get inside soon, or wait out the random cycle and try again later. As much as I didn’t want to go out into the middle of the back yard and get the remote, I didn’t want to stay here either.

So I made myself fumble the gate open again, and I checked carefully as I tried to keep my breathing steady. In and out, through the nose, through the nose. I didn’t see anyone, and the street was quiet for the moment. I checked around again, just to be sure, and decided, again, it was clear. So I made myself leave the back yard again, forcing my increasingly wobbly legs to take one hobbled step forward, then another. I breathed through my nose and kept my eyes wide as I tried to survey everywhere at the same time. My fear of discovery served to help me ignore the pulsing waves of stimulation that were radiating into my completely exposed private parts; I didn’t even notice the egg chain tugging on the now busily buzzing egg as I shuffled along.

When I made it to the front of the house, I crouched down briefly in an awkward kneeling position as I looked up and down the street, then at the houses. This took me longer, because I kept checking the houses on my side of the house, and directly across from me, to see if anyone had appeared there, then took another furtive look back down the street. And I kept half losing my balance, as my hips twitched or my thighs weakened with tremors. My heart was racing again, and I could feel breeze tickling across my moist cunt. My kneel had split my legs slightly, and that had parted my labia, which were that dirty shade of turgid pink that made it obvious what I was up to. The night breeze tickled at my delicate parts, and reminded me of my stark exposure. Glancing down, I saw the glittering slut tattoos on my tits, also a can’t miss part of the story, and found fresh resolve. Time to get inside.

It was clear. I crept along the front of the house, moving as fast as I could manage in my restraints. My head was darting between fast glances at my feet and the ground ahead of me, and long swiveling, frantic, searching looks in all directions, as I prayed for everyone to stay inside. With each urgent step, my tits bounced like a whore’s, and pulled a grunt from my gagged lips. Rope bra next time, that would have actually helped. And made me look even more like a tramp. I made it to the first window, and slipped behind the box hedge. The pine straw that made up the ground cover was scratchy beneath my bare feet, but I felt tons better behind the reassuring thickness of the vegetation. Just ahead, the key to my handcuffs was dangling from the flagpole, slowly spinning on the end of its string. My next to final goal. I eyed it with huge eyes and a hungry earnestness that was all but single minded.

But as I got behind that hedge, I heard another car. Shit, not out of this yet. Frantically, I flattened down, biting hard on the gag as pine needles and twigs poked painfully at my tender breasts and twitching hips. Shifting, I tried to find a position that was more comfortable, but it just a whole lot of ouch down here for a helpless nude girl. I curled my feet up beneath me and stayed on my side to limit the damage to my hip and thigh, as I watched headlights past the edge of the hedge. The egg and butterfly were completely ignored, even though my hips were making urgent, and unconscious, rolling motions by now. Instead, every fiber of my being fixed on the sound of the engine and as I tried to gauge where the car was. When it seemed to peek in loudness just on the other side of the hedge, I felt a surge of terror that made my earlier panic seem trivial.

Heedless of the damage, I flattened my face and body out on the pine straw, and peered through the sparse gaps that existed within an inch or so of the ground. I could dimly make out a car in the driveway across the street; oh the Tillys were home. With fixed fascination, slowly realizing I was again freaking out for no specifically good reason, I watched as best I could from my restricted vantage point as they parked their car in the garage, and then fussed around with bags of stuff for several minutes.

I realized my predicament when I heard their voices, arguing pleasantly about whether or not some purchase of his had been necessary, about the same time as I realized I was very close to tipping over the edge of orgasm again. Suddenly the feelings from within were not so distant, and I felt my nipples and clit starting to tingle with sensation that told me I was close. I clamped down on the ball and tried to still my wiggles, which were only making me hotter as my body responded to the motion. My breasts were crisscrossed with strands of straw, and I was being poked with the annoyingly painful ends all over my front. The flat straw felt pretty kinky, even if the rest still hurt. But the toys were still having their way with me, and it taking me over again.

Closing my eyes, I tried to focus on the pain pokes and Mrs. Tilly laying into her husband about the new speakers for the den. It was getting harder to deny my need, but I reminded myself the front flowerbed was no place to be getting off. I had to get out of here. Taking a glance through the hedge, I saw my neighbors on their front walk, carrying stuff and apparently through chatting. I whined almost inaudibly as I felt things inside me start clenching pleasurably, more and more closely together, and struggled to use my fear as a delay. I watched them enter, watched their door close, and saw light come on in their den. Finally.

Blowing breath out of my nostrils in relief, I dropped my house key on the pine straw behind me, and struggled to get up. Rising to a crouch, balancing almost drunkenly on wobbling knees, I peered along the street again, then checked the houses. Okay, good. I stood up, my pale breasts suddenly in full view again, and hitched myself up to grab at the key dangling temptingly on its string. My tits bounced on my chest, and the sparkling letters flashed under the white glow of the streetlights, but I didn’t get the key. Instead, my first try set it swinging, and I shook a lock of drying hair out of my eye with a huff. Glancing around again, still clear, still clear, I felt the key smack into my back just above my clutching fingers. Patiently, forcing myself to wait, with rock hard nipples that couldn’t be missed by anyone having a look out their window. Please oh please. I felt the key swing gently back into me and settle on the string, back to slowly turning in place.

I slid forward a bit, then gave a little jump from the balls of my feet, flexing my calves and thighs to get me just off the ground. My tits bounced on my chest again, tightening my nipples and giving me a gasp. But my fingers closed around the key, and I yanked it off the string greedily. As I landed, I gave another muffled grunt as my ass twitched under the egg’s jolt of motion inside. Crouching down, I fumbled at the wrist cuffs, feeling for the padlock. As I swiped clumsily at it, I lost my race against the toys, and crashed over the edge into my second overwhelming multi-orgasm event of the adventure.

My eyes widened, and it took every fiber of my being not to scream into the gag as the contractions started. Everywhere at once, not building up, I was suddenly quivering with crackling tremors and rapid little tense and tingles that played along my nerves and danced across my muscles. I fell over on my side without a sound, not trusting myself to utter so much as a sigh or a grunt for fear I’d lose my last shred of dignity. Dimly, the part of me that had helped plan all that, was laughing as it told me I was going to cum and cum and cum until there was no dignity left.

Instead of crying out, I curled up against the restraints, past caring about any mere jingling carrying on the wind, as the toys hammered away at my insides. There was a slick spot of fluid spreading on my thighs, and I tossed my head frantically, keeping my lips pressed firmly against the gag, as the butterfly kept my clit vibrating with rapt attention. I could feel each rippling contraction as a separate wave in a rapid fire rush of energy; they were tearing through my abdomen and chest, clawing down my arms, across my pelvis and hips, dancing down my thighs and exiting through my toes. My body was either locked rigidly as it quivered helplessly beneath the self inflicted reward, or bucking and heaving against the leather and chains that restrained me.

I heard a car pass by on the road as I lay there, gnawing on the ball in my mouth, twitching uncontrollably with damp blonde hair flying in all directions. Thank God for landscaping, another distant corner of my mind giggled even as my body rippled against the restraints, wracked by the crash of orgasm after orgasm. I felt my eyes rolling back in their sockets, and remembered just in time not to make a sound. Instead, I settled for thrashing my hips against the pine straw. Which hurt.

The pain helped break my responses, and slowly the tremors started to break apart into individual twitches. A few moments later, and the orgasms faded into the special feel of afterglow. I drew a deep breath through my nose and drew my gaze back to focus. Somehow, I had rolled over during my little ride into slutville. I was lying on my front, my nipples and tits literally nestled and dug into the lightly piled pine straw. There were sharp little pricks all down my hips and thighs, and across my breasts that stung sharply, and I struggled painfully to my knees to remove the needles. Remembering where I was, I checked the street first as I breathed slowly, laboriously, through my nose. Still clear, thank God.

Enough of this, fun’s over. The cuff key was still clutched in my sweaty fingers, so I again fumbled for the lock on my wrist cuffs. I mastered my body’s urges long enough to fit the key into it, and felt and heard the click open as it opened. My hands sprang free from behind me for the first time since mid-afternoon, and I suddenly felt less vulnerable. I searched around in the pine straw until I found my house key where I’d dropped it during my display of bondage passion, and clutched it firmly in my hand.

Last dash. Taking another long look in all directions, carefully checking and rechecking the street, the houses, the windows, everything, I decided it was now or stay here and masturbate. I was ready to end my voyeuristic bondage adventure, so it was time to go. As I moved to the edge of the porch, I reminded myself not to scream as the light came on. The motion sensor was going to do that, which was why I’d left my backdoor key inside the locked house. I heaved myself up over the edge of the porch with a flex and twist of my arms and abdomen, feeling my tired muscles complaining as they rotated my restrained legs up onto the porch. My nipples howled with a little “hey” and a little “hey” as they scraped across the concrete.
I ignored my body, toys, scrapes, aches, pains, all of it, and stood to lunge for the door. The reflective tattoos on my tits glittered as my breasts jiggled. The porch light burned brightly above me, highlighting my lithe, nubile, and completely bare body; I felt like fingers were crawling up and down my skin . My key scraped in the lock as I grabbed at the door knob with my other hand. There was a dull smack as the egg chain dangling from my ass swung forward into the door. Then I heard a car engine, and felt panic shoot through me all the way to my kidneys. Suddenly I had to go to the bathroom very badly.

The key slipped in as my head turned frantically in the direction of the sound. I saw the glow of headlights, behind a house on the corner, and somehow did not feel warm urine trickling down my sticky thighs. The car was on the side street, rolling up to the stop sign at my street. Mechanically, like I was someone else instead of the absolutely horrified nude girl I was, I turned the key as I saw the front bumper of a car appear, and twisted the knob with my other hand. The door opened as I saw a reflection of glass from the car’s windshield sliding into view, and then my bare feet were on the foyer rug. I stumbled to the side, away from the door, flipping it closed with my hand. When it clicked shut, I quickly turned the deadbolt, then spun drunkenly and shuffled as fast as my leg shackles permitted for the bathroom.

My pulse was racing as I relieved myself, and I couldn’t help but giggle nervously as I did something I normally didn’t do with a vibrating egg and butterfly having their way with me. It was that or soil the carpet though; that car had scared me. But as I finished and flushed, I grinned helplessly. My adventure had done exactly what I’d planned it to; it had driven me into a high state of bliss mixed with, in hindsight, just the right amount of risk. I ignored the little voice that warned me I wouldn’t be so happy now if I’d actually been seen, but I really knew chance of getting caught was that extra bit that had made it so exciting. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, and saw the proof of my desire all over.

Feeling wonderfully content and relaxed, I started the tub filling for a nice hot soak and headed for my bedroom to get the spritz needed to remove my glued on butterfly. After my day, I definitely deserved bubbles.

© 2008 David R Night
(Not for republication in any form without the express consent of the author.).

15.03.08