Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

Discovery in the Woods 2: Caught

by Legs

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© Copyright 2017 - Legs - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; rope; clamps; nipple; labia; gag; cuffs; outdoors; caught; FF/f; bond; bdsm; whip; crop; torment; tease; oral; climax; true; cons; X

Story continued from part one

Part 2: Caught

This is a recording of events regarding the second time I was caught. The first time occurred when I was first experimenting with bondage. In this situation there is a significant back story that leads to my being discovered.

Some background info. My parents were friends with people who owned cabins near a winery in Virginia. We went there monthly in the summer. I hiked and played in the forest while they attended concerts and drank. As I and my interest grew I found wonderful places to play bondage games, so cultivated my own friendship with the owners. That friendship evolved into my being able to visit the grounds when closed and trading work for private time.

About me; I’m right at 6’ tall, athletic build, 34C and long dark brown hair. I posses two intimate features that are awkward in a locker room setting, but wonderful when I’m playing bondage games. I have huge nipples in length and girth and a protruding vulva with large clit. Easy to punish!

The inspiration; While visiting a site that featured pencil drawings I discovered one that completely captured my attention. It was a drawing of a female war prisoner being tortured in bondage. I was fascinated by the complexity and severity of the bondage. After a closer look I realized it was well drawn, but unrealistic. That immediately put my brain in motion to make it possible With the help of my wonderful fabricator friend some devices were made and the goal was achieved.

Deciding the perfect place to undertake this bondage adventure was the cabins, I set that plan in motion. I arranged to have ten days there alone in exchange for prepping the cabins for the summer. I worked my tail off the first few days ensuring plenty of time to set up and play.

The cabins; imagine a D lying on its flat side on the side of a mountain surrounded by forest. The washhouse is in the middle of the flat with seven cabins above it around the curved part. The inside portion of the D is a grassy area a little bigger than a football field. A driveway from a locked gate to where the curve and flat part of D meet is about ¼ mile. It's VERY private. A two mile path goes from the lower left, through the forest and reenters the grounds at lower right.

Play setting; about two hundred yards(?) from the trail head there is a path that goes right about eighty feet along a tiny creek. It appears to dead end at a fallen tree. However, going around the tree and walking in the creek around a bend leads to a wonderful open area. The creek flows in the middle with the left side being flat, damp and full of forest debris. The right is flat for about fifteen or twenty feet then goes uphill.

A few days before "the big day" I took equipment out to the spot, always taking a little time for play. Excitement and anticipation grew day by day. It was going to be a thrill, but it was also going to be dangerous and painful. I’m sure some, even myself in a lucid moment, would call it stupid. I absolutely DO NOT recommend anyone doing anything like this alone. That said, I went ahead with my plans checking all my plans and then rechecking and then double checking my recheck and although I knew better, I proceeded. I do consider myself fortunate to have survived and be able to enjoy the memory and to tell the story.

On Thursday morning I went over every aspect again making sure all was ready. I hadn’t eaten much for a couple days to put me in the right frame of mind as I was supposed to be a prisoner of war. I did however drink plenty of water which later served as part of the experience. I walked naked to the spot and prepared for the return ordeal.

My torture apparatus had two metal curved pieces that went over my shoulders like a pack rack. Due to every other part being extremely painful, these were padded. Two metal arms with eye rings at the end extended from the shoulder harness past my breast eight inches. A flat piece of mental that extended down the back from head to mid thigh, pressing into butt cheeks, was connected to the shoulder harness. Connected to that at mid back was a log 16" in circumference. There was a swivel brace at the bottom and a stick 4" in cir was attached to that.

A spreader held my knees 12" apart. A chain, connected by thumb cuffs ran between my big toes. String was tied to four rings in my outer labia. The strings were tied around my thighs stretching my vagina wide open. The stick attached to the swivel was pulled up between my legs and forced as deep as possible into my vaginal opening between my labia pushing firmly against my mons.

The stick extended ten inches beyond my vagina and a rope was tied to the end with two running ends. The running ends went up and were first tied to a collar and then around my neck accomplishing two objectives. The stick being held firmly against my vulva and making it slightly difficult to breath.

The inner labia were pulled around the outside of the stick. Flat clamps with waffle pads that bit deeply and firmly were attached to my inner labia. A one pound weight was attached to both stretching my inner labia painfully around and snug against the stick. With every movement the weights swung and pulled my labia against the rough bark.

Clover clamps pinched my nipples and each was tied to a cord that went through the eye rings with a two pound weight affixed dangling about fifteen inches below the ring. Twelve clothespins adorned each breast pinching different thicknesses of skin so they would ache at different times and intensity. A stick, complete with bark and dirt served as a gag. It was tied to the metal piece forcing my head into a rigid upright position making it impossible to see my feet or the ground right in front of me. I had to plan my movements by looking far ahead and then by feel.

My arms went over the log at my back. With wrist in cuffs my hands were pulled forward forcing the log into my back. The chain connecting the cuffs sunk deep into the soft flesh of my midsection. A string was tied from the chain to a clover clamp pinching my clit and stretching it upward in a constant state of pain. A knot on the stick was positioned to push against my clit from underneath.

As I was about to secure the last lock I paused in excited anticipation and terror filled trepidation. I almost backed out, but quickly pushed the lock closed. There was nothing to do now, but get to the cabin and retrieve the key that would free me. It sounds so simple when said that way, HOWEVER. . .

The aching had already started in most areas and the pain started as soon as I moved. Walking or waddling was awkward and the toe cuffs felt like they were cutting into my toes each time I put my foot down. Those damn enemy soldiers sure knew how to torture a girl.

Not being able to look down made walking in that little creek extremely difficult. Every placement of my foot was uneven and the rocks pressed the cuffs hard against my toes. The clamps scraped my inner labia against the stick as the stick chafed my vaginal opening and clit. The swinging bouncing weights attached to my nipple clamps constantly yanked my nipples and drool mixed with dirt flowed from my mouth like Niagara falls soaking my breast and torso.

I was so glad to reach the trail, but knew the worst was yet to come. On the trail it was just more of the same, which doesn’t come anywhere near articulating the difficulty and pain involved. However, there was a part that needs more commentary.

I had set up a trail block so I would be forced off the trail to bushwhack / traverse the forest without benefit of path. I had to cross about twenty-five yards of woods before getting on the path again. It was hilly and debris laden. Walking on, over or around sticks, limbs, rocks and bushes caused the pain in every area of my body to increase to immeasurable quantities. There were a couple times I seriously thought I was going to pass out, but I had to escape the enemy.

The possibility of passing out might have also been from not eating. I was feeling pretty hungry when starting, but it was during this bushwhacking phase that it really hit me. I was so hungry it was difficult to concentrate. The underbrush was fairly thick and my naked body was poked and scratched by thorns, bushes and trees. Several times the cord at my nipples would catch on something jerking my nipples severely. The worst however, was when the chain between my toes or the spreader would get hooked. I couldn’t see so had to figure it out by feel, painful feel! Maneuvering made the weights swing more causing even greater pain to labia and nipples. The clothespins biting my breast were really getting to me. In a fit of madness I rubbed my breast against a tree to dispatch them. I managed to lose a couple, but really only managed to scrape my breast as though I’d rubbed them with sandpaper and it seemed the clothes pined pinched skin only hurt worse. Not every plan works out.

Then in the midst of that unyielding painfully brutal trek the need to relieve myself struck. The liquid had trouble getting past the limb and in doing so sprayed everywhere. I shuddered in embarrassed shame as it sprayed my abdomen and ran down my legs. Even alone in the woods that was a degrading experience. However, I love going through it because it confirms and reinforces my captivity and helplessness.

By time I reached the path I was covered in scratches, drool, pee, sweat and tears. I don’t remember when I started to cry, but it was a while before I managed to stop. Being on the path again mitigated the pain slightly and I pressed on toward the cabin.

As I was getting close to the cabins my attitude improved. I felt proud of myself for being able to bring that drawing to life and escaping the clutches of those horrible sadistic soldiers. I was proud of the fact that once more I had created for myself and survived a complex painful self bondage adventure.

I was approaching the cabins with anticipatory joy until I heard a sound that horrified me. No, not a bear, although that is always in the back of my mind playing in the woods. It was human voices, male and female, talking and laughing. My mind raced in terror with many questions and concerns.

I made my way as close as possible and discovered it was the owners son with a friend and a couple girls. He was supposed to be at school, but I guess this was a get away date. I wanted to hide, but there was no where and no way I could hide. Now there was a real live enemy. I just hoped they did not want to hike and would soon leave.

I backed off a little, but where I could still hear them. Soon, but not near soon enough, as my body was screaming in pain, I overheard them say, "it had been fun but we need to get back." My heart leaped in joy. I heard the car start and go out the drive. I immediately headed for my cabin. Going up that hill from the washhouse to my cabin was incredibly difficult. I suppose because I was so exhausted, hungry and in horrific pain.

I retrieved the key and unlocked my right hand. I breathed a sigh of relief as it removed the strain on my clit. I unlocked the left cuff and not thinking clearly, let the cuffs and chain fall. They fell to one side of the stick yanking my clit viciously with extreme sadistic force. I screamed and cursed myself.

I was exceptionally careful removing the rest of my bondage although it did nothing to diminish the pain. My nipples screamed in agony when the clamps were removed and I could hardly get the stick out from between my legs. Taking the rest of the clothespins off my breast was also a torturous undertaking. I checked myself with a mirror and it looked as if I had scrubed with steel wool. After everything was removed I had to gingerly walk bow legged to get to the washhouse to take a shower. I was there for over an hour.

By time I got back to the cabin the acute pain was pretty much a dull ache, but I felt very satisfied with myself. After eating I laid spread out on the bed. I usually like to wait a day or two before evaluating the experience so I read some and went to sleep.

The next morning I was feeling good although my tortured flesh was very tender. I needed to retrieve my toys and certainly didn’t care to wear clothes and could not resist the urge for a little more bondage. I handcuffed my wrist behind my back and went off naked into the woods.

Part 2

It was a glorious day! Cool under the canopy of the trees which felt good on my skin and the cold creek felt good on my feet. I rigged a rope to a handle of the plastic container so it could be pulled back to the cabin. I stood and turned to begin the walk back and was shocked by what I saw.

Again, not a bear. Well, in one sense a bare. Actually two bares. Two beautiful women completely naked standing there with hands on their hips just staring. The girls from yesterday. They looked identical about 5’6", healthy build, shoulder blade length blond hair and big breast. I guessed 36cc or D. One said; "well, well, well, nice play area." They came over to me and said; "lets see what you have in the container."

I started to say something, but was told to remain quiet. I wasn’t exactly in the best position to oppose them so did as told. They explained how they had seen me the day before and how much they admired me when discovering I had done that to myself. They also explored my cabin while I showered. They were waiting this morning to see what I would do and were amazed I came out in cuffs. They surmised I must genuinely be hard core and they were more than happy to help me enjoy some "real" captivity.

The way they said the word "real" scared me, so I was about to tell them I was very tender from the difficult day before and if they gave me a day I might be willing to give myself to them. So I said, "but…" and that’s as far as I got before being slapped and reminded I was to be quiet. I became seriously scared, but was fascinated by the prospect of being genuinely dominated by these two beautiful women.

They removed the handcuffs and bound my wrist and elbows with rope. They also found my big ring gag and secured it in my mouth. They ordered me to my knees straddling the creek. The "creek" was a couple feet wide and I’d guess 6 to 8 inches deep. It was more a trough of wet rocks than it was a creek.

I was pushed from behind. Surprised, I landed hard on the rocks breast first just managing to keep my face from hitting rocks. As I lay in the cold water my feet were tied spread wide. One girl on each side of me gathered half my hair and spread it out to the side in the mud. They stood with their feet on the ends of my hair and then slowly moved toward my head pressing my hair into the mud as they moved. The closer they came to my head the nearer my mouth went toward the water.

They would stand on my hair close enough to my head that my mouth would be in the water, but I could breath through my nose. A couple times they caused my entire face to be in the water. I would struggle as water would fill my mouth then they would let me breath. Having no idea who these girls were I began to truly fear for my safety.

I was told to stick my ass in the air. To do so I had to pull myself backward through the water then use my chest and head to force my butt into the air. Doing so compressed my breast cruelly against the rocks and made it very difficult to keep my nose and mouth out of the water. They began to switch my butt and pussy. When I was nice and tender, even more tender than I had been, they swatted and rubbed my butt and pussy with evergreen branches.

Although the experience was frightening and painful there was an astonishing level of exhilarating stimulation. I couldn’t help enjoying and deriving pleasure from the fact that I was truly a helpless bound captive. Nothing more than a naked play thing for these two women. I would have smiled if I could have. Only because based on their behavior I did not feel my safety or life was threatened.

When that torment ended I was dragged by the ankles several feet through the mud to the flat area and dumped on the ground .

One leg was tied ankle to thigh while the other was tied by the big toe to the thigh. Not close like the other, but impossible to straighten it completely. A flogger was placed in a bush about fifty feet up the hill on the other side of the creek. My instructions were to "fetch" the flogger.

Moving with my legs tied that way was almost impossible. I was unbalanced and couldn’t stand so I fell in the mud, in the creek and in the leaves. By time I reached the base of the hill I was wet, exhausted and covered in dirt and leaves. I tried to rest, just for a few seconds, but they urged me on by switching my foot, butt and thighs. It was an arduous journey, but eventually I reached the whip.

To get the whip tied as I was called for an awkward stance resulting in falling into the bush twice. Retrieving the whip and escaping the bush resulted in being covered in scratches. Although, the scratches were a little difficult to see through the covering of mud and leaves. Yet again, there was a certain thrill being put to the test like this and knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do and not escape on my own.

As I started back, I lost my balance and slid and/or rolled most of the way down to the flat area. It still took a long time, much effort and several falls to cross the creek and reach the girls.

When I did reach them my hands were retied in front, my feet were tied spread wide and I was suspended with only my toes touching the ground. They said; "thanks for retrieving the whip" then proceeded to use it on me. When finished, much of the mud had been whipped off.

It was late afternoon and no one had eaten in a while so they decided to return to the cabin. The gag remained and my hands and elbows were again bound behind my back and I was blindfolded. A rope was tied around my neck for a leash and I was led back to the cabins.

Naked, bound, gagged, blindfolded, dirty, exhausted and disastrously disheveled, I was pulled by the neck through the woods like a wild animal. They even left the trail once and dragged me through the woods. I had also been beaten by whip, switches, rocks, bush, trees and the ground. What a glorious day!

Upon reaching the cabins I was hobbled and left outside while they cooked. When ready they called and whistled from the porch like I was their dog. I had to make my way taking tiny steps and following the sound of their voices. When I reached the porch they giggled and patted my breast saying; "good pet." I guess my head was too muddy for them to pat or they just wanted to touch my breast?

After we ate they showered me. They were thorough, but definitely not gentile. For the rest of the evening I was tied spread-eagle between two post in the cabin and abused by whip and crop. On occasion they also used their bare hands to slap my breast and spank my butt and pussy. They took me outside and made me stand naked and bound to relieve myself. A totally humiliating experience as they watched, giggled and made disparaging remarks, but once again it established my existence as a captive. I was then tied spread-eagle in bed for the night.

After breakfast and being forced to relieve myself outdoors again I was once more tied spread-eagle between the post blindfolded. The whip was used again, but with significantly less force. It felt as though the whip were caressing me rather than striking me. This was confusing, but a reason for the difference was soon revealed.

When the whipping stopped the fondling began. I had been with a couple men, but had never been touched sexually by a woman. I am one who practices bondage more for the myriad pleasures of bondage not for sexual pleasure.

However, I found it impossible not to respond. Being a naked vulnerably bound captive made it impossible to resist their amorous pursuits. The circumstances intensified their every touch and my every response and feeling. It was especially exciting when they would gently brush my overly sensitive tortured nakedness with their hair.

One of them crawled between my legs while the other focused on my upper body. They licked, kissed, fondled, fingered and touched me in so many ways I thought I was being molested by octopi. I was so tender and sensitive from the two days it felt as though electricity was chasing itself all over me. I could do nothing but quiver and moan. Although, I remember at some point begging them to never stop.

I have no idea how many orgasms I had. I am absolutely certain it was more than one and I think less than twenty. I can’t explain how powerful they were except to say every joint in my body was sore afterwards and the rope marks were so embedded they remained visible for more than a week.

We all showered. Me with hands bound behind my back. When done I was secured to a wall hook and they left for a short time. Only one returned and while releasing me from the hook said; "you might wonder why we are so comfortable with and skilled at bondage".

Actually I had wondered because they were so proficient with the ropes, knots and creating good bondage positions. They were highly skilled with the whips and crops. I whispered, "yes".

She said, "this is why" and led me outside. There, hanging upside down from a crossbar of a swing set by her widely spread legs with arms bound behind her back was the other girl. The girl leading me said "stay" and picked up a buggy whip.

She walked over and stroked the girls breast and kissed her pussy then walked behind her. Although it was only seconds it seemed like hours to me before her first swing. I can’t imagine how it must of felt to the girl hanging there knowing it was coming, but. . .

The first three or four swings resulted only in loud cracks and I could see the fear and anxiousness on the face of the girl hanging by her feet. We were on the side of this mountain and the echo made it much worse. Then the whip found its mark. That beautiful soft sensitive opening to a woman’s erotic garden of sensual delights. The crack of the whip echoed in harmony with the sound of leather biting naked skin and the high pitched yelp of pain. That powerful song of torture reverberated through the forest eight times.

The change in tune was hardly noticeable as the target became the girls breast. The whip caressed the underside of her breast and nipples several times before she was lowered to the ground. The two girls hugged and kissed and acted as though I wasn’t even there. Eventually though, the girl with the whip walked over to me and with a wry smile asked; "care to give it a go". Terrified, I quickly said yes.

The whipping was incredible! An experience, for many reasons, I will never ever forget! She truly was a skilled artist with the whip. However, it was 1) the fact that I survived it, and 2) the tenderness given afterwards that made it wonderful and exceptional. I have often felt good about feeling bad, but never like that.

We sat in the cool soft grass for a couple hours talking. I finally asked their names and an awkward question. "Does it bother you being sexual with one another and being sisters?" They looked at each other and chuckled and in unison said, "We’re not sisters, just good friends who look very much alike". I thought they were twins.

They strung along the owners son, who did not know what they were up to, to come there and play. That was their second summer of playing there, but had not discovered my hideaway, so were grateful they now had a good, private, fun place to attend to their business and be able to visit and play when others were present in the cabins.

That evening we went to dinner at the winery. We sat on the porch and ate, talked and drank wine. It was so relaxing, as if we had known one another for years. It was wonderful, but when meeting in this way the intensity is there and then. . . Well, usually nothing.



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