© Copyright 2003 - TeeCee - Used by permission
Storycodes: Sb; caught; cons; X
The block was in a professional neighbourhood and almost everyone left for work early on week days. People rarely came home late and if I played loud music after midnight neighbours would complain. Perfect. I spent a week planning the scene to make sure nothing could go wrong.
On Wednesday night I decided that I'd go for it and phone in sick the next day. At about midnight I took out all my padlocks, restraints and so on and laid them on the bed. I opened the padlocks and placed the keys along with my apartment key in an envelope which I sealed. Then - still fully dressed - I went out of the apartment (leaving the door on the latch) and walked down the four flights of stairs. Reaching the bottom I knelt down as if I'd dropped something. When I was sure no-one was around I carefully tucked the envelope full of keys under the stair carpet where it couldn't be seen.
I went back up to my apartment and closed the door. Already I was hot with anticipation. I went in to the bedroom and stripped off, then began to prepare myself. Gag first, as usual. I picked up my favourite rubber bit gag, strapped it on and locked it in place.
I chose a soft leather collar and made sure that I locked it on very loosely, the last thing I wanted to do was choke myself.
Next my feet. Leather ankle cuffs first, locked on by small padlocks.
Then another padlock to join the large D-rings and create a hobble.
Finally my hands. I didn't want to destroy my wrists with handcuffs, so I locked on a nice pair of leather wrist cuffs. The plan was to padlock my hands together at my front, however it occurred to me that in this position I could still throw a robe over my shoulders and reduce the risk of exposure. So I decided to change the plan and make things a little tougher on myself.
Big mistake. Never, ever change a good plan at the last minute.
I have lots of chain and love using it, it feels wonderful and makes such a gorgeous sound. So I took out a length of strong chain and padlocked this to my ankle hobble then ran it up behind my back and padlocked the other end to the D-ring at the back of the collar, leaving some slack so as not pull on my throat. I found a six inch length of chain I'd used before for this purpose and padlocked the middle of it to a link of the chain at the small of my back. Each end of the chain was then padlocked to the D-ring on one of the cuffs.
I was naked, gagged and chained with my hands held securely behind my back. Compared with some of the self bondage positions I've been in this was fairly light and I could easily get out. If I had the keys. Which were currently at the bottom of four brightly lit flights of public stairs. Just the thought of this made me really horny, so I threw myself on the bed and wriggled until I came.
It still wasn't one AM and I wanted to wait until at least two AM before risking retrieving the keys. I slowly hobbled round the apartment wondering what to do. What I really wanted was a drink, but that was impossible. I decided to watch TV, unfortunately the chain down my back made sitting uncomfortable. So I ended up kneeling on the floor trying to use the remote behind my back and keeping the sound very low - the last thing I wanted was a neighbour banging on my door to complain!
When 2AM finally came round I used a chair to help pull myself to my feet and hobbled to the front door.
That's when I had the first problem. With my wrists cuffed behind my back and attached to the chain I couldn't reach up high enough to get to the door knob! The gag meant I couldn't even try to manipulate it with my mouth. If I stood on tiptoe I could just touch the doorknob with my fingertips but not get enough leverage to turn it. It was so frustrating, if I hadn't been wearing the gag I'd have screamed.
The keys were outside and I was locked in.
I panicked for a few seconds then calmed down. I hobbled back to the lounge where I had a short wooden coffee table. With some difficulty I manoeuvred this out into the hallway and pushed it up to the front door. I knelt on the table, wiggled myself to the middle, leant on the wall and struggled carefully to my feet.
The extra few inches meant that I could now reach the door handle. Unfortunately I hadn't thought ahead: the table on which I was standing was blocking the door and stopped me opening it. So I had to clamber down, which involved an awful lot of wriggling to avoid falling off out of control. After moving the table back six inches I got back up again. Now I could open the door and leave it ajar whilst I clambered back down and moved the table out of the way.
I opened the door fully and stood in the doorway. I stopped to think - did I really want to do this? Too late, really. So I pushed back the door to give it some momentum then stepped in to the hallway. Behind me I heard the door swing shut with a very satisfying click as it locked.
By now I was sweating from the effort and hot as hell. I listened for a few seconds to be sure that no-one was around then hobbled quickly down the corridor to the stairs.
That's when I realised what a big mistake I'd made. Obviously I couldn't walk down stairs with my ankles hobbled, but I'd thought of that. The original plan had been to hold the stair railing with my cuffed hands in front of me and swing my legs down one stair at a time. I'd practised the movement under normal conditions when no-one was around, just holding my wrists and ankles together. It was tiring but fairly quick and I reckoned I could get all the way down in less than two minutes. If I did hear anyone moving I could just as easily swing back up out of the way and if necessary hide somewhere to avoid them.
In the excitement of chaining myself up I'd forgotten about getting down the stairs. Now, with my hands cuffed behind me and chained to my ankles and collar, things were very different. I tried to hold the railing behind my back. I could just reach it but the angle was such that if I tried to swing I knew I'd slip and go crashing down dangerously. Tough bondage I like, broken bones and concussion I don't.
If only I hadn't put that damn chain on. If only I hadn't locked my hands behind my back. If only I hadn't let the front door shut. If only, if only, if only... but I had.
I had to get downstairs. All I could come up with was to get down on the floor and carefully bump myself down the stairs one at a time. This hurt like hell, every time I landed I could feel a new bruise coming on. All the yanking around was making my wrists sore - thank goodness I hadn't used handcuffs. Bruises I can live with - what I was really concerned about was making sure I didn't bump my head, choke myself or lose control and slide all the way.
Progress was slow. Not only was I being very careful, every few stairs I had to stop to get my breath back. I don't know how long I spent working my way down, it felt like hours but was probably nearer to twenty minutes. I'd nearly reached the last flight and was covered in sweat but feeling pretty optimistic when the inevitable happened. I heard voices below coming in to the block.
No way could I bump myself back up in time. I froze and went silent, just hoping that whoever it was wouldn't come up the stairs. No such luck. I could hear two voices, from the sounds of things they had been partying and were drunk. And they were coming up.
A few seconds later they came round the corner of the stair well. A young man I'd seen in the block once or twice and a girl. They saw me and went quiet, their conversation frozen mid-sentence.
I was terrified - this wasn't a game any more. I wasn't afraid of being molested, they were obviously too interested in each other for that. But what if they phoned the police? Would I be arrested for indecent exposure? Would my name be in the newspapers? Horrible thoughts went through my head. All I could do was lie there and stare up with pleading eyes whilst the two strangers watched me silently.
Then they looked at each other and burst out laughing.
I was laying on the floor - naked, gagged and chained - and two complete
strangers were standing over me, laughing. It was one of the most humiliating
experiences of my life. It was also one of the most wonderfully erotic.
After they had cracked a few jokes at my expense the woman thought to ask if I was OK. When I nodded, she took a small camera from her pocket and snapped a photo. Then the two of them wished me a good night and carried on up the stairs. On the way past me one of them - I didn't see which - reached down and ruffled my hair. I almost came on the spot.
That's about the end of the story. I bumped down the last few steps, retrieved the keys and undid my hands and ankles then fled back up to my apartment, chain still dangling down my back.
I didn't dare go out again for several days, partly because of all the bruises but mainly in case I met the man. I finally did pass him on the stairs a couple of weeks later. He looked at me with a slightly puzzled expression then ignored me and walked on. Presumably the alcohol had blurred his memory of the evening.
I still wonder what happened to that photo.