Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

Origins of a SB life

by Legs

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© Copyright 2017 - Legs - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; MF/f; outdoors; bikini; capture; bond; rope; hum; messy; tickle; torment; punish; spank; true; cons/nc; X

It was a dark and stormy night… not really of course, but isn’t that the way all stories begin? I was actually with my parents while they helped organize a home after a death. I was twelve and possessed an atypical curiosity. So, while the men were picking up food and the women were in the house I explored the garage.

I found a box that had been well taped, but opened by the men, I think. The word “private” was written on top so I had to look! It was full of magazines with titles like men, detective, and adventure. I was shocked by the covers, but couldn’t stop looking. One in particular drew my attention. Two women were being tortured by German soldiers. The one in the background hung by her wrist while being whipped, but it was the one that took up the majority of the cover that fascinated me.

It was winter and she was forced to kneel on the cold ground with arms stretched out to the sides and tied to stakes so she couldn’t move or get up. Her only clothing was a tattered piece of material that hung down from her neck and barely covered her areola. Her torso and breast had streaks of red representing where a whip had struck her. Her hair and skin were wet and she shivered uncontrollably as a soldier stood beside her dripping water onto her head and naked body.

There was a look of agony on her face, yet there was evidence of strength, defiance and determination in her eyes. Although, not understanding why, I was drawn into the situation and could not stop looking at her. That is until I heard a car pull into the drive.

Embarrassed and confused I tried not to think about it, but the image would not go away. Its been several years and I still can see that cover as if I just looked at it minutes ago.

A couple summers after that incident I was on vacation at the beach. There were four families totaling eight adults and eleven children which included a couple friends. Since there were a few older children and the adults wanted to have some privacy, two houses were rented. (I discovered years later “privacy” meant sharing partners) A mix up by the rental company caused us to be separated by two houses. It wasn’t the plan, but the adults obviously loved it and in my case, it facilitated a life changing or life directing occurrence.

At that time, I was very intense about sports and studies and as a female teen, rather preoccupied with my personal appearance. So my time was taken up by training, tanning and reading. I never understood why, but my lack of involvement with others caused some bad feelings. I was preoccupied with my own world and never noticed their hurt feelings or their scheming. That is, until the day I was attacked.

It was late afternoon and I was almost asleep after swimming, running, reading and tanning in the hot sun. My arms were grabbed and held tight while my feet were tied together. I was told not to struggle as I couldn’t escape and after a brief fruitless tussle I realized they were right and didn’t resist as they bound my hands behind my back.

They told me I was going to be punished for being selfish, self centered and not spending any time with the other children. They pulled my towel out from under me and the sand was warm on my skin, but that feeling of relative comfort suddenly disappeared when they dumped a bucket of cold ocean water on my back. I squealed and spouted some choice words while quickly turning over. My front was then doused with a bucket of water causing me to turn again. Sand was now sticking to most of my body. Although angry, I remember thinking, that was devilishly clever of them.

I was not fond of being dirty or tied and anger welled up inside me. However, I was also calculating so bided my time till I could reverse fortunes. Once standing they untied my feet and tied the rope around my neck as a leash. The memory of that magazine cover flashed in my mind.

I was wearing a rather small white bikini as I was tanning. When running I put shorts and T over it and when swimming I rapidly moved from water to towel. However, they were now parading me up the beach for all the world to see.

There weren’t that many people around at that time of day, but being a young girl wearing very little with her hands tied behind her, I thought it was the entire world. Adding to that thought and my humiliation was the fact that the suit was rather revealing.

It barely covered my pussy and did not cover any of my butt. That was my error as I wanted to tan as much body as possible and squeezed the suit together in front and made it a thong in the rear. I also squeezed the top pieces together so only my areola was covered. Obviously, I regretted taking that action. It was, however, blatantly obvious that those we passed on the beach and ogled me found it to be very entertaining and were well pleased.

We went far enough there was no one around. The rope was removed from my neck and my feet were again bound. They debated how to punish me until one suggested tickling. I vehemently protested as I was and am abnormally ticklish. To my dismay and alarm my objection only encouraged them and they vigorously attacked.

Although angry beyond words I was laughing hysterically and even my falling to the sand didn’t slow either of us. I thrashed about in the sand trying to avoid the numerous little fingers poking my sides and feet to no avail.

I could hardly breath and thought I was going to pass out when they finally stopped. I was sore from pulling against the ropes and covered in sand from head to toe. When I got my breathing under control I struggled to a sitting position and began to angrily let them know how I felt about their stupid little stunt.

They just stared at me and I thought, “good, I’m getting through to you evil kids!” Then I realized they weren’t staring at my face. I looked down and my left breast was completely bare as my bikini had been rubbed off while I was squirming around in the sand.

Immediately throwing myself face down in the sand I demanded to be untied. They informed me that was not going to happen until I was properly punished. I then begged them to fix my suit. A couple of the boys volunteered to help including my brother. Embarrassed, I quieted and meekly begged the girls to fix my suit. Finally, one of them sat me up and repositioned my top.

I was so embarrassed I felt like crawling into a crab hole to hide. The worst thing being; my nipples were so perky, standing firm and erect atop my breast for all to observe and make fun of or be inquisitive, asking why they did that. Not completely understanding it myself I just hung my head in shame.

I asked if I could wash the sand off, another error, as my brother said I did not like to be dirty. That’s all it took for several of them to run to the surf, grab hands full of wet sand and throw it on me. Now there was wet sand all over me and some they strategically placed in my suit.

My feet were untied and I was led back toward the house. A couple hundred yards, I guessed, from the house they retied my feet and told me I was on my own. At that point they all left and went back to the house.

It was a strenuous, exhausting struggle to go that distance and constantly worry if my parents or other adult would see me. Plus I had to be very conscience of and careful that my hopping didn’t cause something to pop out of my bathing suit. Upon reaching the house I was exhausted, but had to then figure out how to get clean and free.

There was a shower at the edge of the porch for just that reason, but I was tied and a chain had to be held for the water to flow. I struggled to shower for some time before a couple of the older children came out and untied me. I was so appreciative I just showered and didn’t say a word.

Just before going inside they informed me my punishment wasn’t quite over, but they allowed me to use the bathroom and eat. I thought about fighting, but decided against it as there were four older ones including my brother and I knew he could give me a good fight and I didn’t want any of the younger ones to get hurt.

After eating they tied my hands behind my back again and tied my neck to the deck rail so I was bent over. I had to spread my legs to not fall, thus, my bare butt was sticking out unflatteringly vulnerable. It was so embarrassing to be tied outside where others could see or I could be discovered by parents.

They had a leather belt and each of the older ones took one swing and then each of the younger ones were given five. My butt was rather red and stinging when they finished. My feet were tied together and I was told to go to bed. I wanted to protest, but knew where that would lead.

After hopping to my room, one of the older girls came in and checked my bikini. It was still wet so she removed it and left without saying a word. Ashamed and embarrassed I squirmed into bed as best I could and tried to sleep.

I was awakened early by sore muscles and needing to use the bathroom. However, I was naked with bound hands and feet. I wiggled out of bed and hopped to the door. Upon opening it I could not see or hear anyone so hopped as quickly and quietly as possible to the bathroom.

When I returned to my room two of the older girls were waiting for me. They told me the younger children were hurt and wanted me to play with them like I used to do. They informed me more and harsher punishment would come if I didn’t apologize and spend more time with all the children. I readily agreed and was untied, officially ending my punishment.

I was angry for a couple weeks after returning from vacation and still maintain their treatment of me was motivated by something other than they said. So, I wanted to get revenge. However, when I stopped feeling so much and began to think, something strange happened.

I began to connect to the woman on that men’s magazine cover and started to re-evaluate my feelings connected to the vacation event. I was more aware of the feelings of excitement that accompanied the feelings of embarrassment. It was naughty having my breast exposed, yet invigorating, stirring deep inside me some peculiar feelings of harmony and pleasure. Oddly, the overall feeling was one of fulfillment, as though being naked, tied, tormented and all the negative feelings evoked, somehow made me complete or fulfilled. Although, it also made me think I was crazy.

After a period of time thinking I was crazy, I mean truly insane, I slowly began to check out the idea of bondage and even started to try some light experiments. Very light! Rubbing rope on my bare skin, tying my ankles and wrapping rope around my wrist. As I became more comfortable with the idea of being attracted to bondage I decided there was a need to go farther, which led to the second phase of my origins in a SB life, chronicled in part two.


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20.09.17

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