© Copyright 2011 - S. M. Ackerman - Used by permission
Storycodes: Sbf; rope; gag; toys; outdoors; stuck; caught; F/f; bdsm; hum; cons/nc; X
To my readers: my apologias for not posting more stories recently, but I have been working hard on two female domination and pony books entitled, Madam in Attendance & Chloe & Me, each to be published by the end of December 2011 byPink Flamingo publications electronically and in paperback. So I hope this new free story of female woe and sexuality tickles your fancy. Enjoy S. M. Ackerman. (2011)
Grandma & I
To be out in the huge garden when the sun was shining was not wrong. To be out in the huge garden when the sun was shining and you were naked, might possibly be wrong. If like me you were out in the garden stark naked and bent over an old tree stump with your bare ass high in the air, that was bound to be wrong. To make matters worse for myself, I was not only bent over the tree stump, I was secured there with chains and rope! My legs were spread wide, my ankles fitted tightly to a piece of 2x4. My wrists were secured to another piece of 2x4 by handcuffs and rope. My mouth was gagged with a fire engine red ball gag, and finally I had my nipples clamped and my slot and bottom hole filled with sex toys. Then to my horror I was discovered by my grandma!
The reason I was in that position in the first place was, that I like so many other women I get off by using self bondage. Unlike most of them I had paid too little attention to the method and the necessity of my escape device. I had used ice as a safety but unfortunately the ice did not have the time to melt. The key the ice was supposed to drop, had instead been glinting in the sunlight, and a nasty black and white magpie had swooped down attracted by the sparkle and had stolen my only hope for freedom.
Going back a few days: I had planned this little outing so meticulously or so I had thought then. The ice had been prepared, the key was secured to a thin piece of cord and set perfectly to drop to my open palm and so free me from my bondage. The weather reports had been studied carefully and the perfect day selected. I had made certain that my mother would be out and that I would be alone, so all seemed set.
Come the morning chosen everything went well, mother called her goodbyes up the stairs to me as I was still in bed. The sun shone perfectly just as predicted, and I was very much alone. I got up and showered and then set myself eagerly to the task ahead of me. The toys I intended to use had been selected; I had glued a plastic ring to the end of each to form an anchor point, so that I could thread a length of nylon rope through them both, once they were inserted into place. The dildo was of the remote type and I had the remote in my hand and I had even checked that it would switch on perfectly, it did.
Next I drank two large glasses of water as I wanted my bladder full to add to my humiliation potential. I gathered everything together, stripped naked leaving my clothes in my bedroom, inserted my tormentors and secured them tightly into place with a length of coarse rope. I pulled it tight wanting to feel the constriction as well as to make certain that everything was held immovably inserted deep into my slots. The spare set of keys I left on my dressing table, just in case.
Outside I went to the garage and picked up two, five foot long lengths of 2x4, both had been previously fitted with eye loops at each end. These I carried hastily to the small woodland at the bottom of our garden, once in there I proceeded on to my selected fallen tree trunk. I placed and secured one length on either side of the dead wood and made certain that they would not move, no matter how much I struggled. I then secured my ankles with my legs spread wide to each eye loop and pulled the knots I had used tight, feeling them slide down and grip to my ankles perfectly.
The ice I had placed on a hook, which I had previously fitted to the only tree branch above me, which also hid me from sight, well at least from above. I then bent my naked body over the trunk making sure to let my breasts dangle free on the far side. I clipped a pair of crocodile clamps to my nipples and bit my lip as the agony erupted.
Next I secured my right hand with rope via the 2x4’s eye hook and then came the handcuffs. They were locked to the other end of the wood and ratcheted shut to the eyelet and later to be fitted around my left wrist. I had a pair of fisherman’s weights with glued on eye hooks to add to my nipple clamps; oh boy how they increased the agony from my nipples.
To avoid drawing attention to myself I had a large fire engine red inflatable gag, which I had fastened with a buckle and strap prior to leaving the house naked.
Giving myself no time to contemplate my predicament or to change my mind! I locked the last of my restraints around my left wrist, and that was that, I was helpless until the ice melted setting me free. That was how it should have been if it hadn’t been for the damned kleptomaniac habits of a single magpie!
The fun lasted all of an hour; the weather was perfect, the bondage irresistible and the situation felt safe. That cosy feeling changed instantly when the damned magpie landed on the branch and deliberately began pulling the cord that held my key. In frustration (it’s not mine) the bird grabbed hold of, and took flight with the key in it’s beak, dropping sharply towards the ground.
The cord snapped as I had designed it to and the key tumbled to lie just out of my reach. Swiftly with its prize sparkling before me the bird swooped down, landed, seemingly then ignoring me as it grasped its glittering prize. I had nothing to do but watch and hope and that proved pointless as the bird cawed once and took to the air, carrying away my only method of escape.
There was a spare key; it was safely sitting in my bedroom on my dressing room table-top, a long long way from where I was bound.
Panic filled me; I struggled hard, I tugged and twisted and even tried to pull, all to no avail. I was captured and would later tonight be discovered, if I was lucky, by my mother or I would have to spend a long wet night bound out here, and who knows the weekend as well if it rained all day tomorrow.
The afternoon marched into early evening with me suffering the delights of strict bondage continually. When from behind my bound naked body I heard a noise. Footsteps approached, stopped and then I heard a gasp of air followed by a snigger of derision as the person behind me studied my raised naked posterior, along with my stuffed bound sex in detail.
“What a sight you make lying there all plump and eager!”
The voice was not my mothers thank god, it was worse; it was my grandmother that had discovered me and my fetish for self bondage!
(At this point I must explain, if only to avoid any nasty thoughts occurring because of what was going to happen next, that my grandmother was not a blood relative to me. Nor was she as old as you might expect a grandmother to be, she being just over fifty years old. She had adopted my mother when she was fourteen and had brought her up as her own daughter in all respects. My mother had given birth to me when she was nineteen and married to my father, who later died when I was still quite young. Hence grandmother being only fifty and I being nineteen years old. None of which changed my then humiliating position or my discovery by her, but it does help to explain acceptably, what happened next I hope. It also I hope sets the stage for how the rest of my life developed in its most unexpected way.)
At the time of my discovery; I remember, looking back on that day now from the lofty heights of four long years having passed, how humiliated I felt at being discovered, but also how relived I felt knowing that I would soon be released.
Grandmother had other ideas, release was imminent for me but not in the way or for the reason I hoped it would be provided. She patted my bottom, then stepped over the tree trunk and came to kneel before my face, making certain that I knew who she was, and also suffered further humiliation by being made to look her in the eye.
To my horror the look that filled her face was intense stern and scary as hell. She lifted my face by my chin, letting her finger press lightly against my ball gag before glancing around. That was when she saw the little remote; it was also when my damned vibrator kicked into life.
The explosion of stimulation filled my mind and body, it being totally unexpected I steamrollered into an orgasm, and my grandmother watched every second intently as I came. I put on quite a show for her, bucking and straining, arching my back and trying to kick out my legs as my desires swamped me. She for her part located the remote control and held it before me nudging the switch upwards, increasing my arousal and forcing me to chain orgasms, four I think but perhaps it was ‘only’ three that followed.
Grandmother, when I could look at her again had a huge swamping smile of delight on her face; I tried to look anywhere but at her and it. She stopped me looking away and forced me to look her in the eyes, then she told me exactly what a proper horny slut I was! She went on to say that, ‘if I chose to behave like that and could not control myself, that she would have to do so for me.’ Thankfully she then turned the vibrator to off and my slit calmed down. Though I could clearly feel my sex juices trickling down my labial lips as my juices were squeezed from within me. My own mouth added to my disgusting look as my saliva was also expelled, though this time past the ball gag that silenced me.
Grandmother demanded to know where the key to my handcuff was, I could not tell her with the gag filling my mouth, so she loosened it off enough for me to speak. The look on her face had turned stern again and with her demanding an answer, I decided to provide her with it, and just it, not any other words like begging for instance. I told her where my spare keys were and as she had a house key herself I did not need to say anymore. She rammed the gag back into my mouth, fastened it much tighter than even I had, then after delivering a smart smack to my outthrust bottom, she vanished from my sight.
An age later she returned with my keys in her hand, that moment for me was the beginning of the rest of my life. She knelt and released the cuff from the eye ring, then she dragged my wrist over to the other, locking the two together. Next she untied the knots that locked my right wrist to the wood and its eyelet, leaving my hands cuffed but in front of my face.
She told me to stay put in no uncertain terms and I feeling that compliance would be in my best interests, did exactly that. Though what I could have done with my body still over the tree and my legs spread wide and secured, and my hands cuffed before me I did not know.
Grandmother returned to stand in front of me holding four lengths of rather wicked looking apple tree branch. She used the cord from my right wrist to bind, rather skilfully, the rods together. I watched feeling my stomach drop as I realised that she was making a switch, and as the only bottom present in a position to receive its tenderising attention was mine, I felt justified in the feeling of fear that soon raged throughout me. Grandmother swished her rod of correction through the air and I heard the whoosh quite clearly, we both knew what was going to come next…
To be continued soon.