Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

Bound by PC

by John Roper

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© Copyright 2003 - John Roper - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; M/f; online; chat; strip; rope; crotchtie; belts; gag; hogtie; stuck; climax; cons; X

Tracy had never been bound by anyone, not even herself. Turning 18 seemed as good an excuse as any to remedy that shortcoming. Being the gorgeous brunette she was, cyber chats seemed to be the safest inroad to exploring the latent image she'd so carefully hidden from her circle and family since the morning she woke from a dream in which someone strong and masculine tied her to a chair and left her to the kinky outcome of her first, bondage wet dream.

Meeting John online quickly evolved into her first conversational experience with a man who excelled in the fine art of bondage foreplay. They'd met in an AOL, member-generated chat room labeled 'BONDAGE4PLAY4FEMS," and were immediately IM comfortable, in spite of the 38 year age difference. It didn't take long for her to accept a private chat invitation and send John a picture that displayed her 38-22-36 assets in a way that would inspire any B/D minded gent to ask,

PerfectTyr: Is that really you?
StacyBound: In the flesh.
PerfectTyr: And no one has ever tied you up?
StacyBound: Nope.
I find that very hard to believe.
So do I.
Are you sure you are 18?
Just turned. What would you do to me if you had me tied up?
What would you like to have done to you?
I like being fondled.
By the right man. What would you want to do to me?
Not to you- with you. I want the experience to be as exciting for you as it is for me. Wanna get tied up right now?
I want to be tied up all the time.
Now is as good a time as any.
How do you mean?
Got any rope, sashes, and belts handy?
Go get them.
...OK, be right back...   
While Tracy collected the gear, her heart raced, and a wonderment she'd never known before overtook her normally placid emotional life. It never occurred to her that there might be a madman on the other end of the line, who could get her into more trouble than any she'd ever been in before.
What are you wearing?
Jeans and a T-shirt.
Take everything off but your panties.
Send a 'done' with the completion of each task.
Put on your highest heels.
Are you sure you want to do this?
It could be dangerous.
What do you mean?
You might make a mistake.
What kind of mistake?
If you don't do exactly what I tell you, you could be bound indefinitely.
Oh... (Tracy didn't actually think they could bind her inescapably over the computer.) Ok.
Will your AOL connection automatically sign off when not active for more than the time allotted? (She had 4.0 at the time)
Uh, no.
You sure?
Yes, I disengaged it last month.
Do you know how to make a slipknot lasso?
Tie a knot in one end of the rope.

In the carefully spent minutes that followed, as per John's instructions, Tracy secured a crotch rope that ran from a hard knot in front, between her legs to the back of the waist circle, under which it was threaded and fed back down and up between her legs, up under the waist circle in front, and down between her legs again, which were bound with scarves at the ankles and lower thighs.

Very :)
Now struggle to free your legs while you try to get out of your semi-kneeling position.

She semi-sat on her bound legs, in her high back, arm-rested office chair. The lasso end continued down between her upper thighs, thru the back of her calves, under and over the ankle cinch, and up to her wrists in back, which were crossed and bound within four circles of slip knot lasso. The belts had been joined and tightly secured around her upper body, above and below her ample breasts. The gag was face cloth stuffing, held in with another scarf.

When Tracy did what she was told, her wrists were but a few inches from her crossed and bound ankles in back of her. The hog-tie was, to say the least, severe. But Tracy 'knew' what she was getting herself into, and John had assured her of a way of escape if she could not manage one herself. Before she slipped her wrists into the four lasso circles, he instructed her to hit any right board key to answer 'yes,' and left for 'no.' Even though reaching the keys with her nose was difficult, Tracy managed to do so in the minutes that followed. Every time she did, the crotch rope tightened considerably, sawing at her wet crevice, which, in turn, produced its desired effect. Nose typing also tightened the lasso loops around her wrists, a result she hardly noticed at first, but later realized and appreciated without concern. ‘Wow, I really feel tied up.’

When you are securely bound, hit a yes key.
Pull hard on the hog-tie line to tighten the wrists circles at much as you can stand.
(She did.) 'Oooo, that feels so erotic.'
Now try to shake the gag. If you can, hit a yes key; if not, a no key.
Now try the belts around your arms and torso.
Is this turning you on?
A lot?
Me too. What if I told you there was no way out of your fix, that I tied you up inescapably, and that you would have to sit there until someone found you? Would you still be as turned on as you are?
I take it the possibility is making a major impact on your sensual psychology.
Enjoying the rope between your legs, are you?
Do the ropes around your wrists and between your legs tighten when you type or struggle?
Exactly...Scream as loud as you can... Think anyone can hear you?
Well now, guess we could say you are a damsel in distress.
Nipples hard?
If I was there, I’d give them a major workout, perhaps tether them with heavily chained nipple clamps, and hang a padlock on it. Want that?
How about I leave you alone to get into the bind for a bit, say a half hour?
No? Why not?
Have you cum yet?
When you do, I want you to send as many 9s as it takes to measure the length and intensity. OK?
I see you have switched to caps. Things getting more intense, are they?
Phone. BRB.
Whatever you do, don’t fall off the chair, or you will be in big trouble.

Three, very exciting minutes passed without a word from the damsel's binder. Tracy went nuts trying to free her wrists from the 4-looped lasso circles, while pondering the possibility of being semi-permanently bound for as long as it took for her roommate to get home. It soon dawned on her that she might not have left enough hog-tie slack between her wrists and ankles to accomplish the task. ...'Wow.'

The phone rang. Nose-wise, it was just out of reach, as was her mouse. The machine picked it up..."Hi, Trace. It's me. Won't be home till late’ maybe not until tomorrow. Enjoy your privacy. Seeya." Tracy made two, very tight fists and tore into her situation with renewed enthusiasm. The rope between her legs made the first-time experience swelter with uncommon excitation. Her long, sexy fingers flared out with expressive frustration, groping and flailing to reach the knots in her ankle cinch. ...'Damn!'

They were out of reach and three deep, and there were no other knots to stretch for. Even if there were, Tracy's long nails would have made the task near impossible. In her haste, Tracy had tied them in front, instead of in back of her ankles, as John had instructed. His words echoed back at her about doing 'exactly' as she was told. It was then something unimaginable happened. Tracy began to spasm, but not in the usual way, for she had been teetering on the edge of her current envelope for as long as her wrists had been bound together behind her.

The unprecedented, sensual event continued its imploding ways for the next several minutes, during which Tracy took full advantage of her predicament. Internal fireworks reached the ends of their psychologically inventive imaginations, setting off a red-hot display of writhing undulations and crotch rope tugging. ...'Oh-my-God. I can't stop cumming.'

The belts around her upper body were tightly drawn, making it impossible to do anything productive with her arms, which were held fast and closer together behind her back than they had been before. Given the way she was forced to sit. An attempt to remove the heels failed almost immediately. A try at losing the gag was equally unsuccessful. And there was nothing on screen to read from her 1500-mile-away binder.

'I can't get out of this...what in the hell was I thinking?...And why can't I stop cumming?'

Tracy's enjoyment of her newfound turn-on was, to say the least, acute, in spite of the possibly inconvenient consequences involved.

Back. How’s it going?
Cool. Want out?
I understand perfectly. Are you wishing I was there?
Pleasurably so?
Any pain?
A Lot?
Good. How would you like to spend the night like this?
You have no choice, unless you can figure out how to escape. Can you?
(1 minute later.) X
Will someone find you if you can’t?
Would it be major embarrassment if they did?

PerfectTyr: From now on, only type when the answer is no.
Are you trying to escape all the time?
...Think you have more orgasms in you?
...Do you keep having them whether you want them or not?
...If I were there, would you want me to take you? ...There is a way out, but you will have to wait until I tell you how. It will be the same when I'm with you. You will not be free until I say so. I'm going to cum all over you, Tracy...

Several, very erotic minutes passed, during which both John and Tracy contemplated the situation and enjoyed the outcomes it inspired.

Then, something extremely consequential happened, something that would not have happened had Tracy not made a second crucial mistake. In order to get things rolling as soon as possible, she'd lied to John about the automatic turnoff at AOL. There it was, staring her in the face. 'Do you wish to stay on line?' read the window.


Tracy's eyes focused on the out-of-nose-reach mouse, leaned forward as far as she could, fell harmlessly off the chair, and immediately experienced the beginnings of a multiple that went on for several spectacular seconds.

PerfectTyr: Having fun?

John Roper


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