Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

Confessions of a Teenage Bondage Slut 4 - Self-Bondage Surprise

by Ropedgirl

linnndsay at hotmail dot com | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2018 - Ropedgirl - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; explore; rope; tape; gag; naked; crotchrope; toys; insert; harness; caught; M/f; bond; bfold; tease; torment; mast; sex; climax; true; cons/reluct; X

Hi, everyone! I know it’s been a long time since I last wrote anything, but a lot has gone on in my life in the last few years. But no matter what happens, know I’m still crazy into bondage! So, without further ado, let’s get to why we’re all here! I give Gromet permission to provide my email address here, “linnndsay” (with 3 n’s) at hotmail dot com. No direct link, please, I don’t want any more spambots to find me than necessary.

I’ve already discussed some of my background in self-bondage from a young age – if you haven’t already, I suggest reading my first story for more info – but the story I’m about to tell requires a bit more detail.

As I believe I mentioned, I initially started getting interested in being tied and gagged as what would today be called a “tween” (the term didn’t exist at the time) from seeing beautiful ladies helplessly tied and gagged in various movies and TV shows. I started experimenting with tying myself up in shoelaces and bandanas and sashes and the like in a completely non-sexual way before I went through puberty, but I knew there was something bigger behind it. Self-bondage for me started taking on sexual overtones shortly after I hit puberty, but, as I’ve mentioned, it was a gradual progression from tying myself up in shoelaces while fully-clothed to being bound nude in nylon rope that took 2-3 years. Once I turned 16 and had the time, ability, and money to drive myself around, I started buying real nylon rope and duct tape, and tying myself up in them, though I probably would have used real rope before then had it been available to me.

I usually did most of my self-bondage play in my bed at night, after lights were out and doors were shut, but I always tried to take advantage of every opportunity I had in the daylight hours (like on school holidays when my parents would be off at work). Even then, I was always scared to death of being discovered, so I tried to stay as quiet as possible (I learned to peel the duct tape off the rolls under the covers, so the multiple thick layers of fabric muffled the sound), and generally pulled the covers over me while I “struggled.” I never could get my wrists bound in such a way that I’d be able to both feel reasonably helpless and still get out afterward – I basically just used the wrist coil part of the cinch-noose method without the noose, both because I didn’t even know about it until I was about 15, and because I was a bit afraid to use it at that age.

When my boyfriend that I’ve been telling you about and I started playing with bondage a few years later, he knew all about my little adventures in self-bondage, and it always got him really excited. He kept agitating at me to do it for him sometime, but to me, the two facets of my bondage sex life were kind of separate: self-bondage was what I did when he wasn’t around or available to tie me up. I now realize this is a bit of a silly sentiment, but it was how I viewed my play in bondage at the time, both with him and without.

One week in the spring of our senior year, my dad had to go on a trip for work, so my parents took it as a chance for sort of an out-of-town getaway. They left Friday after they both got home from work, and were coming back Sunday of the following week, about 8 full days. Since I was still in school, I was left to watch the house and make it seem like people were home and things were business-as-usual to discourage robbers. I was fine with this arrangement, both because it enabled my boyfriend to come over most days (as well as giving us plenty of time for play) and gave me lots of opportunity to practice my self-bondage techniques!

One of the first couple weekdays after they left, I decided I was going to tie myself up but-good in the afternoon once I got home from school. My boyfriend was supposed to be coming over later, as he had some things he said he needed to do first – schoolwork, extracurriculars, whatever – so I had a couple good hours in which to scratch my self-bondage “itch.”

I raced home, dumped all my stuff as soon as I got in the door, and had stripped off all my clothing by the time I got to the bathroom. After a quick rinse to wash off the dirt of the day, I felt refreshed, and ready to struggle sexily in my bonds! I hopped naked onto my bed and set to work quickly, roping my ankles in a feverish hurry to make myself helpless. Before tying my legs together, I was feeling more than just a little bit naughty, so I placed one of my vibrating toys inside me and secured it with a tight crotchrope (placing a little knot in the rope right where it would rub against my clit), blushing intensely every inch and knot of the way. I finished my legs, binding them both immediately above and below the knee, then added my best solo attempt at a chest harness around my breasts. Blushing from the naughty thrill, I stuffed my mouth with a fresh pair of my panties and proceeded to tightly seal my lips with multiple strips of duct tape. Adjusting my position to allow maximum space on my bed for helpless struggling, I slipped my wrists through the tight coils of rope I kept always prepared as my wrist restraints, and started happily struggling and moaning into my gag!

I was off in my own little bound and gagged world for who knows how long, but I was so distracted and making so much noise that I didn’t hear or notice the intruder until I felt something press me down onto the bed as he grabbed my already helpless arms from behind and bound my wrists much, much more seriously than I had. I panicked, screaming as loud as my sealed mouth would allow (not very, as it turns out; big surprise, huh?) and thrashing against my bonds, desperate to get loose from this mysterious invader’s clutches. What brief glimpses of him I got told me nothing; he had on a black turtleneck and jeans, but hid his face thoroughly behind a ski mask. I couldn’t see his eyes, and I assume he was also wearing nylons over his head under the ski mask. I couldn’t see him, and I couldn’t turn my head far enough around to get a better look, with his knee pinning me to the bed by my back. Damn it! Did I forget to lock the front door? Too late to do anything about it now; I was helplessly in his control.

After he’d sufficiently tightly roped my wrists, the next thing I knew, my own discarded long-sleeve blouse that I’d left on the floor earlier in my frenzy to tie myself up was being used to blindfold me. It can’t have been all that effective, but it was sufficient that I couldn’t see the invader. I felt him check all of my other bonds as I continued to struggle and attempt to call out for help through the tape sealing my mouth shut. Apparently finding them all satisfactory (as he should, curse my own good ropework), he inspected the front of the chest harness and crotchrope in greater detail.

A very small part of me liked the attention, but I tried to recoil from the unwelcome touch - who was this stranger, and how dare he violate me this way! He tugged at both ropes the way one would a leashed dog to keep me from retreating further, and I squealed – partly in surprise and as a negative response to the action, and partly in excitement, cursing myself and my body for responding to his vile attentions. After teasing my nipples as I squirmed and struggled both to get free and in an attempt to stop his groping, I could feel him get up and move around behind me. I attempted to follow him with eyes wide with panic and helpless apprehension behind the blindfold, but there wasn’t any point, and I couldn’t have turned my head around far enough to see what he was doing anyway.

I must’ve looked very much the damsel-in-distress: helplessly roped, large scared eyes hidden behind a blindfold, nervously mewling into a tight gag. Very much to my chagrin, the idea started to get me hot, and I tried to quickly turn down and away reflexively as I knew I was red from both arousal and embarrassment. I could feel my crotch getting sopping wet - as I knew it would be - making me blush harder. I could feel him grab me from behind with both arms, one hand coming around my side to grasp my left breast, the other fondling my moist, naked sex and the crotchrope cruelly rubbing my pussy lips that secured my vibrating toy inside. In response, I protested as loudly and energetically as I could and thrashed in my bonds, but it was absolutely no use, and it didn’t budge him an inch.

Unfortunately, I was getting aroused despite myself. I was scared and upset and angry, but the thrill was intense. In a sense, this is what many submissive, bondage-loving women dream of every day of their lives, and I was getting a chance to experience it! Getting ravished while tightly bound and gagged by a mysterious man! Even with the tape sealing my lips, I could hear myself gasp through my nose in arousal, and I felt angry with myself. I kept telling myself this wasn’t supposed to happen, that I should resist and struggle, and not submit to this…this monster.

When he tugged at my crotchrope, I moaned at full volume before realizing what was happening and cutting myself short. I could feel myself once again turn bright red from utter humiliation at what I’d just done at the hands of a total stranger who’d broken in and was now having his way with me. As an ostensibly “negative” response to the rope digging deeper into my pussy, I did my best to make my displeasure known through my gag – all that came out were helpless, desperate mewlings – though I had no idea who I thought I was fooling. He could tell how I was responding to his touch, both from my embarrassing curtailed vocalization and sopping wet pussy he was exploring. Not to mention the most incriminating thing of all: the fact that he’d captured me in the act of tying myself up nude for pleasure alone told him this wasn’t as unwelcome as I’d been doing my best to make it seem.

I ultimately succumbed to his fingers rubbing my dripping wet slit and the rope cleaving it, and my body convulsed in its bonds from a climax unlike any I’d ever experienced in bondage before. The danger and uncertainty and feeling of true helplessness pushed me forward into a mental and emotional territory I’d never felt before, which only intensified the orgasm. This stranger’s expert and intense ministrations on my swollen and hungry pussy and clit were the only thing in the world to me at this moment, and I loved them and the orgasm building and roaring through me. I kept coming and coming, trembling in my ropes under its force, as I screamed at top volume into my gag.

I lay there, tired and helpless, exhausted from the epic orgasm, panting through my nose and still quivering from the effects and aftershocks of the orgasm. My toy was still vibrating away inside me, giving me further little tremors every few seconds as I hopelessly, forlornly tried to squirm in despair and desperation against the ropes still tightly binding me. It was a great orgasm, but I was now his helpless little sex slave, unable to move or even resist the orgasms he forced out of me. He could do anything and everything he wanted to me, whatever and whenever he wanted, and this thought aroused me tremendously. I was a little afraid and nervous, yes, but more than anything I was angry at how aroused and satisfied I was over it all. My body wanted to be his helplessly bound and gagged plaything, even if I “consciously” didn’t want to be.

These thoughts and more rolled around in my still-somewhat-foggy mind as I recovered from the orgasm and tried to process what my position meant. How long would I be like this? How long did he plan to keep me? My boyfriend was supposed to be over soon… if only he’d get here before this villain steals off with me… I wriggled and whimpered, a legitimate, real damsel-in-distress. I could feel my captor come around in front of me, and was just barely aware of him chuckling to himself as he took off my blindfold. His face looked familiar… But my brain was still too fuzzy from the orgasm and lack of oxygen to process it.

“I really appreciate you leaving yourself all wrapped up for me like this, just like a Christmas present all tied-up in ribbon.”

The voice was familiar too, as was the playful tone. It finally dawned on me that it was my boyfriend – the jerk! I’d given him a key for the week, and he’d ditched out on his other things to come over early, guessing I’d be pleasantly surprised since we weren’t supposed to meet up until later. Finding me writhing sexily at-play, he quickly capitalized on this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and barged in on me unaware and pretended to be a burglar who caught a poor little girl in the middle of a self-bondage play session. I was still panting and quivering, and my brain still a bit fuzzy; while I knew I was mad at him, I couldn’t do anything about it bound as I was, and wasn’t together enough to do anything about it even if I weren’t. I “mmpphed” something unintelligible into my gag in a mixture of relief, satisfied gratitude and annoyance, and he just laughed.

“If you’re going to be that way, I won’t untie you at all.”

I still wasn’t lucid enough to say or do anything (even if I could in my bondage) that required thought, so I just replied by squirming, shaking my head, and moaning in the negative.

“Mmn-mmn, mmn-mmn…Mmph mm mpph!” I rolled over submissively in my bonds and wiggled my bound hands to try to draw attention to my naked butt, which I then wiggled for him.

“That’s more like it.” He swatted it playfully and I squealed in delight. “You’ll behave now, right?”

“Mpph-hpph,” I nodded.

“You’ll be a good little bondage slave, right?”

“Mpphh-hppph,” I shook my head more emphatically in the affirmative, my faculties returning to me.

He straddled me and rolled me on my back, so my naked, bound breasts and roped, wet, and vibrating exposed pussy were facing up at him. “You’ll moan and whinny and struggle as I ride you like a good little filly, right?”

I moaned loudly in mock-protest as I struggled against my ropes, then whinnied as I “bucked.” I was getting my senses and mood back.

“That’s a good little filly!”

I giggled and blushed, and he dove into me. He undid my crotchrope and toy as rapidly as he could, then plunged into me as I bucked and writhed and moaned in ecstasy. Needless to say, the evening – and our fun week! – was just beginning! But there’ll be more for another time…

You can also leave your feedback & comments about this story on the Plaza Forum


If you've enjoyed this story, please write to the author and let them know - they may write more!
back to
selfbondage stories