© Copyright 2009 - Jenny - Used by permission
Storycodes: Sbf; naked; gag; rope; cuffs; nipple; caught; stuck; toys; insert; true; cons; X
Have you ever wondered what the typical Young English innocent girl does when her partner has to go away on business for the weekend. You know the scene you have seen the program on the telly, Its too wet to sit outside and of course all the house work is done. The story below happened to me a few months ago and is true in every detail, I dedicate this story'to all the long suffering self bondage addicts who I am sure have had similar experiences of their own.
My partner was away on business I had all day to myself, as usual sun bathing due to the typical English climate was out of the question, so what does a typical English lass do to pass the time, "Of course a session of self bondage" What else!
I made sure the doors were all locked so that I would not be rudely interrupted, the answer phone was switched on, cooker off, I then placed the key for the handcuffs on the kitchen table down stairs. Made sure there were no taps left on, then up to my front bedroom all by myself, nothing could possibly go wrong.
I stripped off and fitted the ball gag, I sometimes think it is a size too big but beggars can't be chooser's. I lie on the bed and bend my legs backwards so my ankles were level with the top of my legs, I then tied around the ankle; then around the top of the leg. This makes movement a little more difficult, same procedure to the other leg, I then inserted my new vibrator it switches itself on, runs for about a minute and a half, then switches off for five minutes or so then starts all over again quite a tease really.
Once inserted I seal it in with a piece of duct tape so it cannot pop out. I now fit the nipple clamps closing them to the point were pain says I should not go any further, then turn on my side pull the blindfold in place and lying on the bed struggle to fit the handcuffs behind my back - Click click!!! All done.
The object of the exercise is once I get a little bored with the vibrator I then get my legs free, get downstairs retrieve the key for the handcuffs that is now resting in the middle of the kitchen table down stairs. And there we are free again nothing to it.
I am now lying on the bed the vibrator starts up when I hear something bump against the window sill, my heart seems to miss a beat or two. I am holding my breath listening for every sound except the buzzing deep inside me. There it is again, in my mind I know instantly what that sound is - its the bloody window cleaner! Here I am stripped naked, bound hand and foot lying on my bed, it must be a window cleaners dream he will think it is his birthday. I rub my head against the bed dragging the blindfold off one eye, my mind has now gone into warp drive, I roll myself off the bed, with a crash I land on the floor no time to try to undo the cord tying my legs.
I can hear the rattle of the ladder on the window sill as the window cleaner starts to climb the ladder. I now decide to pull my knees up and push the top half of my body along the floor towards the door. As I force my way through the open door, the brass door plate that holds down the carpet under the door which was secured to the floor boards with badly fitting screws, as I propel my body in rapid snake like movements across the floor my boobs and tummy now come into contact the the sharp heads of the screws, creating cuts and grooves in effect trying to redesign my body. I roll out onto the landing absolutely shattered, heart going like a steam hammer but safe at last from the window cleaners gaze.
I struggle to scrape the blindfold off my head against the floor, now I have two eyes to see things are looking better. I gaze down at my body it looks like the chain saw massacre has taken place and I have lost, there seem to be trickles of blood and red marks everywhere after my close encounter with the screw heads with their razor sharp edges. The vibrator was still working and I wish I had not fitted the nipple clamps as the pain is now extreme, as with the movement one of the clamps has closed even more almost to the point of amputating a nipple.
I now set about trying to undo the cords tying my legs with no success at all, as with the struggle out of the bedroom the knots had now welded into solid unmoveable lumps. I now try to force my handcuffed hands up my back by pressing my elbows against the floor to reach the strap on the ball gag as I am struggling to breath. Just as I am getting to grips with the strap, Horror!!! I hear the window cleaners ladder thump against the landing window sill, "O shit!!!!!" Here we go again, roll over knees up push the top half of the body forward yet again back across the dreaded door plate trying to lift my poor battered boobs over the sharp protruding screw heads as I go inside the bedroom. I lie there in a state of complete battered exhaustion, thinking to myself I might become a nun if I get away with this.
The knots securing my ankles to the top of my legs now seem impossible to move and are hurting like hell, I lie there totally knackered to say the least. After about half an hour has passed I am convinced the window cleaner has finished so the next job is to get downstairs, get the key off the kitchen table undo the handcuffs and that's that, promising myself never again.
Here we go again back over the dreaded door plate, wriggle to the top of the stairs, I now rotate my body so my legs go first, no problem my legs start the descent but just as my chin leaves the top step the vibrator starts up again, the body thinks its become a snow board and careers’ down the fourteen steps to the ground floor at about twice the speed of light. My poor battered boobs crashing and being dragged over every step, my chin and the side of my head feel as if I have gone ten rounds with Tyson and lost. One of the nipple clamps had been dragged off on my journey downstairs leaving a rather raw tired battered bleeding looking nipple, I know my boobs are on the small side but its amazing how many bruises you can get on such a small space, and my nipples that are my pride and joy are looking very sorry for themselves.
I now lie at the bottom of the stairs convinced I am about to die but apart from that nothing else can happen.
Ding dong ding dong!!!!! the door bell is going at it. It sounds like the klaxon on a warship and a voice shouts through the letter box, "Window cleaner are you in Jenny?"
I am lying about four foot from him with no energy left plus a really good nose bleed has now started, I am completely buggered to say the least, and that bloody vibrator is still working.
After what seemed a life time all went quiet I could heard the window cleaner man retreat down the gravel drive, peace at last. I struggle in to the kitchen sliding in as a snake would move, leaving a trail of blood as I progressed to propel myself across the kitchen floor.
The key was on the table and I could not reach it, I banged the table trying to knock it over or shake the key off the top, everything fell off the table but the key stayed out of reach. After a while my legs were killing me being bent up and my ankles tied to the top of my legs my whole body was hurting. A few tears then the vibrator starts again instead of getting worked up I got mad, I was now under the table sitting leaning back on my bent legs in one last desperate attempt that would have done James Bond proud. I straightened up standing on my knees crashing my head against the underside of the table, the table at last flew into the air then crashed down on its side. I too had crashed to the floor with it my nose still bleeding.
The table was now lying on its side and the key was nowhere to be seen, I really do believe at that point in time it had been abducted by Aliens. After what seemed a lifetime of useless searching dragging my battered body around the floor, complete despair has now set in I could be stuck here for a day and a half till my partner gets back, more tears and the nose was still bleeding, I wonder to myself why didn't I take up tennis like the the people next door.
Then there in front of me on the floor next to the smashed radio that always lived happily on the kitchen table and had never done me no harm was a small kitchen knife, hope springs eternal. I crawled over to the knife, rolled over and grabbed it with my raw and cuffed hands and set about cutting the cord that held my legs, on several occasions sticking the knife into the top of my leg cursing the knife for being blunt and blaming every one for not sharpening it. I was frothing at the mouth with the exhaustion promising myself to get a smaller ball gag.
At last the cord parted company I was able to straighten my now cramped and painful legs, as I lay there waiting for the feeling to return to my legs thinking at least I will be able to walk about for the next day and a half, there right in front of me about three foot away was that dammed key the aliens must have returned it. Then that demon vibrator started again.
Who was it who said, 'Women don't know what hard work is ?'