Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

A Farm Girl Punished

by S M Ackerman

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© Copyright 2010 - S M Ackerman - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; cuffs; rope; gag; outdoors; barn; chast; punish; toys; cons; X

Part One

I pushed back against the ground making the swing on which I am sitting move in the opposite direction. I am bored I tell myself in no uncertain terms. I am at home having returned for the summer holidays from my second year at university. I glance up at the large rambling, slightly shabby farmhouse in which I and my parents live. I am an only child and somewhat of a loner, mostly I suppose because there is no one around to be mixing with, well not that I know, and I think I know everyone for miles. Mostly they are old boring adults, with busy normal lives, and no understanding of a nineteen year old girls needs or interests, not that I would tell any of them of my interests, that would be just too embarrassing for words.

At eighteen (and still a virgin)! I have always been one of those that preferred to grab a packed lunch and vanish, mostly I think, because if I don’t disappear from sight, then someone, most likely my father will find me something ‘useful’ to be doing. It was during one of these outings that I got stuck in a bog and only just managed to get myself out of the fix. I was as you can imagine coated quite liberally with thick viscous residue. My clothes went in the bin as my mom said, ‘they were not going in my washing machine!’

That was also the same day that I realised that being caught against my will, or tied up could be quite arousing. Once I had broken free of the mud, I found that my sex was literally dripping, my skimpies soaked, and I was horny as hell! The more I thought about my reaction, the more determined I became to experience the feeling of helplessness again. One thing led to another and I started inventing ways in which I could trap myself. It was only once I got to university (aged nineteen and a half) and had unlimited access to the internet, that I discovered I am not alone in this respect.

I discovered a web site that offered people, ‘just like me’ the chance to read and also write their own stories, about, you guessed it, ‘self bondage.’ I can’t tell you what a relief it was to discover that I am not the only one, and not necessarily a freak for liking being tied up etc. I think I read every story on the site twice at least, and spent the rest of that weekend thinking about some of the adventures others like me have enjoyed. Of course I realised that a high percentage were only fantasy, but even so, they still had a considerable effect on my thoughts and my body. I decided that if others could enjoy being tied up etc so could I, so that is how my life and desires eventually led me to this point, my parent’s farm, and my first true experience of outdoor self bondage or as I prefer to think of it as self punishment.

It all came together for me one weekend during my first summer break from Uni. My father is taking selected stock (cattle) to a major show, and mom is going with him. They will be away for the whole weekend and that leaves me in total charge of the farm. Mostly that means feed a few animals, not many, because the farm is mostly arable. The few milking cows are dealt with by old Frank, he comes around at five every morning, and again at four each evening. Other than old Frank there will be nobody on our forty-two acre farm but me. What more could a girl want, hot weather, wide open spaces, hidden woods, old barns and total privacy, and all from Friday evening through to Monday afternoon, when my family return from the show, hopefully with some nice pretty ribbons for dad’s prized Hereford cows.

The only thing else you need to know for now is a bit about old Frank. He ancient, slightly bow legged and slow moving most of the time. His skin is the colour of mahogany, due I think to him having spent most of his life outdoors working around farms. I have known him most of my life, but in reality I have never got to know him, he is one of those people that arrives, does whatever he has to do, and then vanishes again. I get the feeling that he doesn’t like people much, and me in particular these days, though why? I haven’t got a clue.

I have spent nearly nine days planning my adventures and in such a way as to cram in as much excitement as possible into the weekend, now with mom and dad ready to go, the show cattle loaded in the lorry, and them saying goodbye, my arousal is rising. Eventually after the normal, remember to do this and that talk they climb into the cab and leave. At last I am alone! It’s Friday evening, I have the place to myself, and I am eager to be about my first real bondage experience.

One of the first things after buying handcuffs that I purchased was a chastity belt. A metal, tight fitting, evil device, designed to torture a sexy girl half to death with frustration, and it is this device that I pull out of my suitcase I keep under my bed. I intend that I will spend this evening locked up, no wanking for me as such, though the belt does contain two evil plugs, which vibrate when and for as long as they decide. Usually this is not long enough to get me off, hence frustration and torture. The belt fits tight around my hips, so tight in fact that I have to breathe in quite hard to snap its clips together. The padlock for it secures it at my waist. Next a hinged metal plate pulls between my parted thighs (back to front), the butt plug enters me first and with some difficulty.

It doesn’t look much, and it is only an inch and a half around the base but it has a three inch bulb on top to fill me. Getting it into my ass hole is difficult and quite painful as well. Next the tip of the front vibe fits into my already aroused sex. Now neither are inside of me properly, but they are in just enough. So I sit on my wooden chair and my weight drives them both deeper. Jeez, it feels as though I am being torn in two at both holes, as the ridged plastic penetrates me deeper. I feel the butt plug pop in and my sphincter closes around its inch and a half stem gripping it tight, not nice I can tell you, especial if like now you know it’s going to be in there for quite a while.

The front is easier, but still its seven inches of length is not the most pleasant thing. The metal plate is now pushing up between my thighs and ready to lock in place. The padlock clicks shut, it’s a small one, but tough, and it is now locked into place. My chastity belt is on and secure, and I am eager to be about the rest of my fantasy. Though I hesitate to stand up from the chair for a second or two knowing the sensations I must endure as I do, but time waits for no one and a naught deserving slut like me needs to be made to suffer for her lustful thoughts and behaviour. I stand quickly; the twin pains nearly double me over, as both vibes pull out then push back in hard.

Having selected my chosen restraints and locks earlier and placed them in a carry bag I picked them up and leave the farmhouse. There is a barn used for storing tractors etc and next to it is the milking sheds, the cattle are presently grazing in the far field, down near the road. As I leave the house I also collect a solidly frozen block of ice. Set in the centre of it is a single key (I got the idea for this from the net) this key fits the handcuffs to a length of chain I have hung from a beam in the barn.

I enter making sure that the barn door is tightly closed though not latched, I don’t want to be disturbed, but I will need to be able to crawl out of the barn via this only door. I strip naked and chain a set of leg cuffs to my ankles. There is three inches only of slack, so walking is more hopping that anything else. I lock the open padlocks thus securing my legs. Next I strap a belt around my legs and above my knees. This has a ring of metal fitted to which I clip a chain and that is attached to a solid green ball gag which I place into my mouth and secure behind my head, tightly enough for it to force my mouth open wide, this should quite quickly become painful to wear.

The ice I hang just above the ground so that when the key is free I can easily get hold of it, well not so easily you will see, once my self bondage is complete. I have no idea how long this block will take to melt, but that’s all part of the fun or is it punishment I have chosen. I have a blindfold, it was originally just that, but to be usable as I want to use it I have stitched in two tiny holes, so I can see out, well sort of, but only forwards. Last for now I click my handcuffs behind my back and attached to the chain , I am now restrained, I can move a short distance but the plugs in my bits discourage such actions.

When the ice finally melts the key will be available to me to open the padlock joining the chain to my cuffs. To get myself free from there I will need to crawl out of the barn, along the track which cuts through the silage grasses, until I reach the far side of the small field (Three hundred yards each way) and there I will find another key, which once I collect it and return to the farm house will allow me to open a locked box in which the remaining key are secured.

Sounds simple but this is my self-punishment, so nothing is quite as simple as it seems. The track to the key is used by the tractors so it is rutted and rough. The box with my freedom inside of it is thrown inside of the pig pens, and they are disgusting, and I don’t know where the box is exactly. And of course I can hardly see, I am naked, and its daylight, and I am secured by cuffs and chains and plugged with a pair of wicked plugs. All in all quite a serious first attempt at self bondage, and quite a punishment I think.

To my horror it takes absolutely ages for the ice to melt, and even longer than I thought to free my cuffed hands from the chain once it has. I begin to crawl across the barn floor; I have to travel in a zigzag shuffle along the floor. Knees bent up to my ass, get purchase and straighten, thus I move. With each move the ground friction burns my naked skin so I have to change point or pressure frequently, or I will be peeled like an orange. The barn door is heavy and stiff, and pushing it with my head is hard and my shoulder gets well burnt by the concrete, as does my thigh. This is going to be more punishing that I expected.

I make it through the barn door, perhaps I decide, if I can wriggle close enough to the barn wall I can stand up, and then hop like mad towards the field and my distant key. If I am very careful, and lucky, I can save myself a lot of friction burns. I succeed, I lever myself upwards scrapping my back this time, but eventually I am standing sort of. I shuffle forward, feeling the light breeze caressing my naked skin. I get ten long feet from the barn when the bigger of the two vibes suddenly kicks in. It rips my sex apart with vibrations, forcing me to stay still and to clamp my thighs tight to try to retain my balance, I do so but only just.

The damn thing buzzes away for three or so very long minutes before switching off at last, I continue my shuffle/hop across the farm yard and onto the track.

The ruts are deeper and more twisting than I have expected, they barely allow me to shuffle forward, but slowly I enter deeper into the field. Forty yards in both vibes explode into action. The effect makes me bend at the waist; I loose my balance and fall forward, twisting as much as I can so as not to land on my face. I hit the ground with a splat, the track holes have retained the recent rainfall, so now I am soaked as well as winded. Once again I am back to inching my way forward, but not before the vibes finally switch off.

The light is fading fast which makes it heading up to ten pm, and I am only just halfway to my second key, and I have to return all the way back before I can suffer in the disgusting filth of the pig pen. The pigs are already shut away for the night, I made sure of that, all I need is for them to eat the box and its keys.

It is dark by the time I get to the marker post near to which I had earlier placed my key. Finding it is not difficult, picking it up is. My fingers have gone quite numb, something I had not thought about and they are also covered in thick muck from the track. Eventually after numerous attempts I collect the key and wrap its string around my fingers so I can not lose it. That would be a major disaster for me, just the thought of loosing that key scares the hell out of me. I grip it tight, convincing myself that I am only trying to scare myself. I am bloody well succeeding if that is the case. I turn and start the return trip. Its a long long shuffle but an hour later I am at the door to the pig pen, and near to being free.

The pen door has a simple push up bar to open it, I use my head and am soon wallowing around inside of the pen, its wet, slimy, dirty and generally bloody unpleasant, but I do find the box. The pen is so disgusting that I decide to get out before opening the box and freeing myself. Considering how much I hurt at this point, you can imagine how bad that pen must be to delay for even a second!

The box opens with the key I have so carefully carried across the field, inside are the keys I need to remove my cuffs and other locks, including my chastity belt. Just as I pick up the bunch of keys the damn vibes kick in again, and this time they keep on going. I am under a concerted attack by the vibes and they win. Before I get free I do get to enjoy my one and only orgasm. And it’s a lulu!

Some time later I return from the land of orgasm and finally free myself. Now for a bath and something to eat, but first a drink. I then decide that I can’t walk into the house covered in all this muck so its an outside shower for me under the cold tap, via a long hose, I am freezing before I am finished. I leave the chastity belt on until I am upstairs in the bathroom. I’ve had my orgasm and don’t deserve I decide, to have another, well not until I have completed the next phase of my self bondage punishment, and that will begin at four o’clock in the morning and its already eleven thirty now.

My alarm rings at three-thirty am, and begrudgingly I sit up in my warm cosy bed.

‘Get up slut’ I say to myself, ‘time for your discipline bitch,’ I add.

Breakfast consists of water and dry bread soaked overnight in marmite which I hate. As you will have gathered I love to be punished as part of my fantasies, I like having no choice, even though it is me inflicting whatever on myself. To day, this morning, soon, I am about to embark on my second punishment of the weekend. I like the thought of being humiliated and caught as part of my suffering, but in reality I suppose, the thought is one thing, but the reality is another.

My discipline this morning requires a very early start, yes you’ve guessed it, I need to be in place before old Frank arrives. Back to the barn which as I have said is next to the milking sheds, where old Frank will soon be working. I enter the barn and proceed directly to the back, having made sure that the barn door is tightly closed. There at the very back of the barn and covered in muck and straw and cobwebs, ugh, is an ancient tractor. I place down my restraints bag near to the front wheel and remove two lengths of rope, which I have previously measured. These I affix to each of the tractors front wheels, then I place them on the floor of the vehicle near to the pedals, and where I can reach them once I am sat in position, on the ancient metal seat.

Next I pull a broom handle out from beneath the tractor and also place that with the ropes. I hang a chain from the rafter and attach an ice block with my escape key already frozen into it. Now comes the nasty part of my discipline. I strip naked, placing my clothes on a handy straw bale, and then taking a large, and I do mean large, butt plug from my bag, (I bought this one especially for this punishment) I first lube both it and my ass hole and then try to insert it. The damn thing won’t go in, it enters a bit then it hurts to much and finally I give up for now. Time to mount my ride, I stand up on the tractor holding the rusted steering wheel with one hand, whilst again trying to insert my butt plug. This time I realise that what is needed is irresistible force! Squatting down to the seat I apply pressure to the butt plug, wedging it into place in my ass before letting go of it with my spare hand. Taking a deep breath I allow my body weight to collapse or drop onto the tractors seat.

The trapped butt plug is forced into me, and as I have no method of support I have no choice but to take the pain as it finally enters my ass. The pain, the feeling of instantly being stretched beyond anything I have ever felt, its agony, and perfect, an excellent start to my punishment. Sitting on the plug I now take up one of the rope lengths and secure it around my ankle pulled as tight as I can, my leg is stretched out around the metal of the tractors engine, now for the other. I move slightly, and O’ boy the plug shifts, the yelp of shocked pain could have been heard all across the farm, it’s a good thing I have my ball gag to add soon. Again I secure the other ankle spreading my legs quite wide around the engine bay. Now for the piece du resistance, the broom handle! The rounded end I insert carefully into my vagina. I am already wet enough to not need lube, and as it is in my bag, and that’s on the floor I can’t have it anyway.

The other end of the broom handle I wedge tightly between the tractors pedals. This takes some doing, as I have to lift my self off of the seat, and then lower myself again once the broom handle is in place. I can feeling it deep inside of me, so I rock my hips back slightly to ease the pressure, the butt plug plunges deep as my weight is applied to its base. ‘Shit’ I croak, trying to remain silent. I better hurry up old Frank will be here soon I realise.

The ball gag enters my mouth for the second time this weekend and is buckled tight. Now for the handcuffs, I have them attached to the chain above my head, so all I have to do is snap them around my wrists and I am helpless until the ice melts and frees my key. For a single second I hesitate in locking my wrists, but a quick mental telling off and the ratchets close tight.

I am now naked and secured, filled and horny, being punished in the best way I know how, a captive just waiting for old Frank to arrive, an old man that I know does not like me, soon he will drive the cattle past my imprisoned and helpless self totally oblivious, I hope, to my plight.

I shortly hear the clopping and lowing of our Herefords, old Frank is out there driving them to milking, only a few feet and some flimsy wood away from seeing me, secured tightly, being punished for the slut I am. Excitement floods my groin, I rock against the broom handle, driving it in and out of my slit, my butt plug now rolls in and out adding to my self imposed arousal.

“Come on girls, no time to waste.”

If had any doubts and I don’t, I now know that old Frank is just out there and will be for an hour or two yet, not that I am going anywhere for a while, the ice so far does not seem to have melted at all. This is the time that I question my sanity, why do I do these things to myself. Why do I have to punish my body, to humiliate my spirit? The only answer I can ever accept is that I like the feeling and the risk, and the pain I set myself.

Once the ice melts and I am free, I will spend the rest of today before Frank returns this evening, setting up my next punishment and it will of course be more scary and painful than this one, and the risk I take of discovery will be more intense.

This is my weekend, my bondage weekend, my self punishment weekend, and its only Saturday morning now, I still have all day Saturday and Sunday remaining to suffer through before my self imposed bondage punishments have to end. There is a lot I can inflict on myself between now and then…



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