Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

My Early Years

by Rawl

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© Copyright 2002 - Rawl - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbm; cd; nylons; girdle; mast; climax; stuck; caught; hum; X

Hi! Some of you may have read some of my fantasy stories under the pen name of Rawl or Rawn and thus know I am a very kinky person. At least in my mind!

I guess that a little intro is long over due! Where to start? Hmmm… Well I guess to start let me say I have been crossdressing long before I understood what that meant, also tagging self-bondage in with it on most occasions, but I also enjoy seeing the female form in all sorts of tight confining bondage and clothing. One of the earliest memories of Cd'ing is when I was about ten. Being from a poverty level farming family, hand me downs were a way of life. Usually; from brother to brother and sister to sister.

One day however I had no clean shirts for school my Sister-in-law, who was living with us to help Dad care for us. Him and Mom were going through a very ugly divorce. Anyway the only thing she could find that would fit my ten-year-old body was a sweater from my older sister. I had a fit and my brother almost beat the daylights out of me for some of the things I said to her. Needless to say I ended up wearing the sweater to school. I remember the feelings of absolute terror that some one find out it was a girl sweater and the excitement of wearing it. Talk about a confused kid! I certainly did not understand those feelings. I think that laid the foundation (no pun intended) for who I am today.

About a year later after the farmhouse we were living in caught on fire we were living with my Mom. Now my mother is not a very big lady! A young cross-dressers dream. Although like I say I had no idea that what I was doing was called that. I did know that if I were caught it would not bode well for me. Not with six other siblings and the type of father I had. Men looked after the farm, women looked after the cooking, cleaning and having babies and the two never mixed.

Anyway I loved the smell of my mother’s room; her foundation garments had an exciting aroma for me. This led to me more than once “borrowing” some of my mother’s undergarments. Never her panties but her girdles and bra’s. As I said she was a small lady and although the girdles were not tight they did feel great.

One day not long after I had discovered the treasure trove of girdles in my Mom’s dresser I had also discovered how wonderful silk stocking felt on my still hairless legs. My stepfather always had those old detective magazines around with bound women on the covers. And I began to fantasize about what it would be like to be a woman tied up like those pictures. The only thing I could find for that was my Mom’s discarded but not thrown out stockings and pantyhose.

I was about to learn a VALUABLE lesson in leaving your-self a quick way out and about how well pantyhose can confine you. I had snuck my favorite rubber girdle, (I loved the smell and it fit me pretty tight) and a pair of used nylons. Mom’s high heels were very tight on me but this was one of my first SB experiences so I forced my feet into them. I could not walk very well but I managed to strut around for a little while.

Mom kind of let us kids do what we wanted as long as she knew where we were and not getting into trouble with the law. So I stole away into my bedroom and changed into her undergarment and heels. (This is the first time I got a hard on as well.) It felt so cool, not knowing that I should leave myself a safety I proceeded to bind my ankles and knees together with nylons. I managed to wrap some more around my upper body around my shoulders just above where my tits would be and tied a very tight knot. I was really excited by now but felt frustrated because my hands were still free. So I tied a loop in a pair of pantyhose and stuck my wrists into it.

Still not satisfied because I couldn’t tighten it enough to really feel helpless I started twisting my wrists so that the noose around my wrists tightened. Let me see if I can explain that. I would twist my wrist around in the noose while rotating one hand over the other. I did this until I couldn’t twist my wrist anymore. This is where I got into trouble. I didn’t know that the more you pull on a knot in stretchy pantyhose the tighter the knot gets!!

Well I was having a gay old time imagining my self bound like one of those beauties gracing my Dad’s magazines. Pretending to be in mortal danger and putting up a good struggle, I continued my self-bondage fantasy. I had bound my legs quite well for a beginner and the twist around with my arms had secured my wrists. Too well I was about to find out.

Just then the unimaginable happened my Mom called me down for some hot chocolate and a snack. I panicked. I tried to twist my hands free but suddenly they would not move in either direction. Right about that time I made a mess of my Mom’s girdle. My first orgasm. WOW. I didn’t know then that was what it was called but WOW!! That did not help my plight. I was instantly disoriented and now really could not remember which way I had twisted my hands to knot them up so well.

To my absolute horror Mom opened the door to my room and there I was bound hand and foot wearing her girdle and nylons. I remember wishing God he would open up the floor to swallow me whole. I blushed to my nylons covered toes and just lay there. Mom just looked at me and told me to hurry up or my hot chocolate would get cold.

It took me almost a half-hour to free myself. I was trying to use my teeth to pull on the knots at my wrists. I was terrified Mom would have to come back in and release me. My hands were starting to fall asleep because of the tight nylons wrapped around them. I think I was crying by the time I finally got the knot free. I quickly released myself and stowed everything under the bed to be cleaned up later.

Needless to say; I never put myself into that position again. Mom never said a word about it either. I don’t know what would have happened had it been my stepfather or one of my older siblings. I have thanked God everyday I think about that day my Mom did not react to what she saw.


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