© Copyright 2010 - Tonya - Used by permission
Storycodes: Sbf; rope; zipties; cartrunk; outdoors; cons; X
Hmmmmm........ Where should I start this time? The beginning is always a great place. I seem to have a minor problem with fate stepping in and making my adventures, well, more adventurous. Here we go....again...
While house sitting for a friend, I decided that I needed to play a bit while I had the time off. Lord knows I haven't had the time lately to do much of anything bondage related. I needed to get stuck for a little while. I boxed up all of my "things" so that I wouldn't have to make the ninety minute round trip to pick them up from home if I got the itch. When the itch did arrive, I was ready. I sat down at the computer and starting brainstorming, looking through stories and pics to see if I could find that spark of inspiration. I began looking on all my sites that I visit on a regular basis, not much there though. I noticed on several sites that the "girls kidnapped and frantically trying to escape" theme was rather common this time of year, and another with several girls being forced into the trunk of a car.
The weather is really nice and it's not getting absolutely frigid at night anymore, and then it hit me. I've never been tied up in the trunk of a car before, by my own hand or my husband's. Kerri's late model Corolla was sitting in the garage, just waiting to become part of my plan. The first thing that I did was empty all the crap she had stashed in the trunk. I was going to need that space fairly soon. Then I made sure that the seats folded down, sixty-forty split will work just fine. I unlatched the smaller one and pushed it forward and with some bailing wire and a little luck, wired it so that it wouldn't latch back. This way I wouldn't end up locked in the trunk for another four days waiting for her to get back home. I called Anita when I got back in and gave her exact directions to Tim and Kerri's house and we worked out a time that she was supposed to be there, 7:00am. Safety first you know.
Next was to decide what type of mostly-helpless damsel in the trunk I was going to be. The corporate exec who wouldn't give up the secrets to her forecast software, the bitchy lingerie shop sales girl, the Royal Court dance team member, or the nurse that just needed to get tied up for a while. Tough choice, but I finally decided on the dancer, it is playoff time you know.
Time for more tough decisions, how to be tied. I fought with this one for a good hour, if not two. I didn't know how tough it was going to be to get out of that trunk, into the backseat and out of the car, over to the button on the wall to open the garage door, then around the side of the house through a gate in the privacy fence and sneak back into the house through the back door. Once I get back in the house, I have to go to the front door and get the key to my locking bag that my snips are in, then back into the garage to get the bag with my snips so I can cut the ziptie cinch on my wrist ropes and run to my freedom.
More inspiration… mouth stuffed, taped and wrapped, ears plugged, ankles crossed and tied, legs tied above and below the knee, arms strapped down to my sides, and last but not least, wrists tied behind me, palm to palm. There, that wasn't so hard.
My husband is a huge Sacramento Kings fan, and last year he made a trip out to the west coast and it resulted in me being the proud owner of 3 different Royal Court dancer uni's. I wore one for him once when he tied me and it's been one of my regular outfits ever since. I wore the one that basically consists of a sports bra and tiny, tiny tight shorts, with tan hose of course.
At about 11:30pm, I made sure that all the doors were locked except for the back door. I placed the key to my bag on the front door knob, and the bag on the backseat of the car. I then placed my safety snips on a high shelf in the garage with a large saucepan filled with a half and half mixture of cooking oil and tomato juice sitting on top of them. If I pulled on the string attached to the snips, I had a fairly good sized mess to clean up, assuming of course that I didn't get any on myself.
After that I went into the bathroom and stuffed a hankerchief into my mouth, bit down hard and placed several strips of tape over my mouth, sealing it shut. Another strip or two under my chin, ear plugs and a little silly putty to keep out any excess noise, and a nice coban wrap to keep everything in place. I felt a tingle all over, this was going to be fun. I grabbed my ropes and ziptie and headed into the garage, making sure to lock the door behind me. The only light left on was the trunk light in her car. Not much light, but there was plenty of light to see so I could finish getting tied.
I hopped up into the trunk and swung my legs over the side. Sitting in the trunk, I crossed my ankles, right over left, and tied them tight. Next below my knees, doubled the rope, four wraps and a cinch, and then I repeated the same process above my knees. I put my series of loops on over my shoulders, half the ropes above my breasts, the other half below, and then began to cinch them down tight. Tying the excess off at the back of my neck, as usual, was the toughest part. The moment of truth had arrived. I reached up and grabbed the short piece of rope that I'd tied to the trunk lid so that I could reach it with my arms tied to my sides, and then gently fell over onto my side. The trunk slammed shut!
I reached over and picked up my wrist loops, slid my right wrist in, then my left. The ziptie cinch was the final touch. With each little click I got more and more excited. I could feel my heart about to jump out of my chest. I had done it. There I was totally helpless in the trunk of a car, surrounded by darkness. I might as well have been a deaf/mute as well, mouth and ears plugged and wrapped as they were. I'm not sure how long I laid there, rolling around in the trunk, struggling uselessly. My only hope of escape was to begin my journey, or wait on Anita to come and free me.
I couldn't wait to tell my husband what I was able to do, all by myself no less. I imagined that he was the one that tied me and tossed me in the here, and we were on our way to our little vacation home in the mountains. I was a little disappointed when I realized that I had forgotten my usual crotch-rope, but it just afforded me the opportunity to focus more on my current predicament. I had no idea what time it was, but I knew that I easily had several hours before Anita arrived. I decided to make my escape in plenty of time to relieve myself, several times if necessary, get cleaned up and grab a quick bite to eat.
I started sliding across the trunk feeling behind me for the part of the seat that I had wired. Finally after a little searching I hit something that moved. I positioned myself so that I could slide out, feet first into the back seat. I pushed the seat the rest of the way down, and began to wiggle my way out. I felt like I was sliding backwards, uphill toward the front seats. When my feet hit the floorboard I was almost through, when something snagged my hair. I pulled gently at first, then just yanked my head to one side, ripping out quite a few strands. I sat up in the back seat and regained my sense of direction and leaned over and started feeling for the door handle. When I found it, I pulled and leaned against the door, nothing happened. I pulled a little harder and leaned much harder, and still nothing. I was puzzled at this point. This did not make sense. Then it hit me. The child safety locks were keeping me from opening the door. I'd have to squirm my way into the front seat if I was going to get out of this.
There was almost no room between the seats, and this was not a car known for its headroom so going over the seats wasn't really an option either. IF I could reach the switch I could lay the seat down a bit, or move one of them backwards or forwards enough to squeeze my way through. I couldn't reach any of the switches on the seats, so I stuck my head in between them and put my feet against the back seat and started pushing. Once my wrists were through I knew I was going to make it. Somehow I ended up with my head in the driver's side floorboard trough. After solving that minor problem, I went to work on trying to get out the front door. I should have shut off the dome light, the damn thing very nearly blinded me. It was bad enough that it was pitch black in there anyway, but the sudden light made me see stars and it took a few minutes for my eyes to readjust. After I shut the door after I got onto my feet. I guess I hit the door lock on the way out, because when I tried to reopen the door to get a little bit of light so I could see to get to the switch, it wouldn't open. I spent about half an hour looking for the garage door opener on the wall, but when I found it a new surprise was waiting for me.
Watching the weather might not have been a bad idea, but it was the furthest thing from my mind when I was planning this little adventure. The not-so-little thunderstorm was a nice addition to my trek around the house and into the backyard. My ears were plugged so well that even the thunder wasn't getting through. I just hoped that the storm wasn't too bad and that there wasn't going to be any hail, or worse. That would have put a serious damper on the rest of my evening. I didn't know if I had time to wait it out, and it didn't show any signs of slowing down, so I starting to make my way into the rain and around the house. My footing was just fine until I reached the grass next to the house. Apparently wet grass is very slick sometimes and if you're hopping with your ankles crossed and tied, you can easily lose your balance and hit the ground pretty hard. Some say it will even knock the wind out of you, and still hurt several hours later. I wonder if I wouldn't have been safer in heels. They would have sunk into the soft ground and made hopping around that much harder, but my footing might have been better. I struggled to my feet after hitting the ground, and kept going.
When I made it to the gate, I didn't realize how high the handle was. Reaching out and grabbing it was one thing, but reaching out and grabbing it with your arms tied to your sides and wrists tightly tied behind you was another thing. Standing on my tiptoes, bent over, fingers straining to grab the handle and open the gate, I must have been quite a sight. I could only get three fingers on the handle, but it was enough. I felt the gate move and leaned forward to pull it open. When I did, the wet handle slid from my grasp, and I fell yet again, but this time just to my knees. I got back to my feet and went through the gate.
As I cleared the side of the house, several different lights in the backyard came on. Blinding me again, and scaring the hell out of me. I wish Tim and Kerrie would have told me about the motion lights they installed. I hopped quickly, easily in view to all three neighbors, had they been watching, and made it to the back door. I closed the door quickly behind me and leaned against the wall. I began hopping again, towards the front door to get my key.
Once I retrieved the key and the spare set of car keys I headed for the door into the garage. On the backseat of the car, under the folded down half was a locking bank deposit bag with my snips in it. Just perfect for cutting plastic zipties and setting moderately sore, very wet, very tired girls free. After unwrapping my head, untaping my mouth, unplugging my ears, and untying my legs I wondered back into the house and flipped on the hall light. There’s nothing like ground in muddy, hopping backwards footprints all the way through a house to kill a great post self-bondage mood. I had tracked grass and mud across tile and carpet both, from the back door to the front door and all the way back into the garage.
I immediately stripped and tossed my soggy outfit and my ropes into a lingerie bag and into the wash. I had to work quickly to get the mud and grass out. Luckily these nuts have their own steamer and within an hour and a half I had the place looking pretty good again. It was time for a hot bath and just about time for breakfast. I was lucky. It would have been kinda tough to explain why there were tracks all across the house, even more difficult would have been explaining why they were together, and backwards.
There were a number of things that could have gone wrong here, some of which did go wrong, but it could have been much, much worse. Oh yeah, there was only one spot that wouldn't come up, but it was by the front door and, so far, they haven't noticed. ;-)