Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

In The Open

by Alex Gordon

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© Copyright 2006 - Alex Gordon - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; outdoors; susp; cons; X

Since the divorce, I had lived by myself, in a small English town not too far from London. Nearby was a huge forestry commission forest, with some areas of ordinary coniferous trees. I have always been into bondage but the nice thing about self-bondage is that it avoids all the complications of partners! That weekend, I had two days to myself. I’m 32, blonde, with a nice figure (34DD), 112lbs on a 5’3” frame.  I shave very carefully all over.

It was a lovely Friday evening in May, sunny but a little chilly. I’d made my plans carefully and set off for the forest around 6.00pm,  wearing a tracksuit and trainers and jogging, with a backpack containing everything I needed. Just by the entrance to the forest and the car park, a little stream drains off the hills. Although there were a few cars in the car park – probably dog walkers – there was no one around. 


Making sure I wasn’t seen, I placed the keys to the padlocks I’d brought with me in a small plastic bottle, filled it with water and let it sink the four feet or so to the bottom. I couldn’t now see it from the side of the stream, but I knew it was - and would - be there. Then I jogged about two miles to the other side of the forest to a secluded area of old oak and other trees I’d noticed whilst out jogging. 


Time to set up. There were lots of old branches around and I carefully built a four-sided empty box with these, about eighteen inches off the ground.  I had a huge coil of nylon rope I’d found by the roadside some months earlier, and I threw this over a branch about twenty foot or off the ground. One end I secured to the tree trunk, the other dangled near the platform, with a small loop at the end.

Then I jogged another mile through the forest. Under a big clump of bushes, I stripped and taking a chain and padlock, locked my clothes to a small tree in the middle, with the chain through the arms and legs of my tracksuit. Now I was naked and the keys to all the padlocks were back in the stream. That in itself was quite a turn on – all I wanted to do was stop and bring myself off. Was I wet! 


I had to hurry; it was beginning to get dark, so warily – in case I met a dog walker – I trotted back to my oak tree. By the side of the clearing I put on my leather wrist and ankle cuffs, and a nice new ball gag, all of which I padlocked tightly closed. I chained my wrist cuffs together and the ankle cuffs likewise, each with a foot length of chain. I drank one of those big bottles of water you find at service stations. Then rummaging in my backpack I found my ice. What I’d done was take a plastic soft drink bottle, fill it full of water with a chain dangling from the inside of the bottle, then freeze it.  


I hid the backpack and my trainers by the side of the clearing. It was difficult to walk with a foot of chain restricting my movements but I climbed warily onto my little platform. I passed the chain from the frozen bottle through the loop and then using my last padlock chained it to the middle of the wrist chain, taking some of the slack out of the chain as I did so, thus drawing my wrists almost together. Taking my weight gingerly on my arms, I kicked away the branches that formed my platform and there I was, naked, chained and suspended just above the ground. The wrist cuffs slid down a little and I found that I could just stretch and support my weight on my toes – but if I did that my feet started to ache. If I took my weight on my wrists it didn’t take long until they, in turn, hurt. I was clearly in for a long and uncomfortable night. I was also as horny as hell, but no chance at all of doing anything about that!

By now, it was completely dark and although I could hear traffic in the distance, there was hardly a sound in my little part of the forest. Just a few rustles in the undergrowth that could have been anything. I knew that I would have to stay there until the ice in the bottle melted sufficiently to release the chain, but I also knew that I had curled quite a lot of chain up in the bottle so it would take quite a while. I hung there totally naked and defenceless, alternating in taking my weight off my wrists by my feet. Although it was getting quite chilly the effort of doing so made me perspire, and this started to attract all sort of buzzing insects. I was horribly aware that they were exploring every cavity on my naked body, and there just nothing at all that I could do about that. When I peed and it ran down my legs, this seemed to attract more, who gaily feasted on me.

It was agony. After a while, I lost all feeling in my hands, and I became a little frightened that I might get some permanent damage. There was nothing I could do, except continue the monotonous routine of changing the weight from feet to wrists and back again every time the pain in one or the other became too intense, which was about all the time. I could feel insects crawling all over my naked body, especially under my arms and up my cracks, but despite my wriggling there was nothing I could do about either. 


I kept hearing noises in the bushes, and started to remember the stories of panthers and other animals being released into the countryside when they became too big or too dangerous for their owners to look after.  This made me perspire heavily, in turn attracting more insects. I hung there in agony all night, although towards dawn I became aware of a small drop of water leaving the bottle and running down my wrists. I was surprised, because although I had been dripping with sweat I was cold, too, and had by now lost feeling in my toes as well. After all the effort of continuously moving from one set of aching muscles to another I was horribly thirsty, but with the ball gag locked in place there was nothing I could do. Gradually the sun rose, and a second shift of insects came to join the party on my naked, defenceless body.

Suddenly I heard a different rustling in the bushes. There were snuffling and scuffling noises.  I was petrified, as some kind of animal was clearly coming my way.   Seconds later a large and inquisitive cocker spaniel gazed happily at me, wagging its tail. I could hear its owner calling for it some way away ‘Jack, Jack, Jack come’.  The dog settled near my feet, then got on its haunches, crapped and wandered off, presumably towards its owner. The dog’s mess, of course, redoubled the number of insects feasting on my pain-wracked body. But all I could do was keep transferring the weight from feet to wrists and back again. And again. And again. By now I was crying with pain, and wondering if I could survive the stupid trap I’d got myself into. I itched in the most intimate places, where the insects had gotten to me, and I could see them on my nose where the perspiration from my forehead had dripped down. Worst of all, the sun was shining straight into my eyes. I could hear, from time to time, dogs barking in the distance but my little area of the forest seemed deserted.

It got worse yet. It was clearly going to be a beautiful Saturday, and it started to get warmer and warmer. Yet more insects arrived, but the flow of drops of water didn’t really increase. I tried counting the seconds between each one arriving - it was one way to take my mind off the pain in my arms, wrists, shoulders and legs  - but my maths isn’t anything special and all I could do was take my mind of the pain I was in for a second or two at a time.  Gradually the day warmed up, and as it did so my pain got worse – all the time I had to shift from supporting my weight on my wrists to thrusting up with my feet to support my body and take the weight off my wrists and then do it all over again – and I got thirstier and thirstier. It seemed to me, too, that most of the insects in Southern England had arrived to enjoy me. I was worried too, that someone might stumble across me, trussed up, suspended and helplessly naked. On a Saturday morning, it was unlikely that anyone other than a dog walker or a jogger would be around, especially as I was some way from the nearest path.

Slowly the sun moved out of my eyes. By now, I’d stopped crying, because I couldn’t endure the pain and was whimpering. If I could have freed the ball gag I would have shouted for help, but I’d locked it on pretty tight and there was no way I could free it. I knew that because my jaw ached intolerably after about 14 hours with that thing in there. I have no idea what time it was when suddenly there was a jolt and the soles of my feet hit the ground. The ice had melted at last! But it hadn’t melted completely, and I had to stand there (well at least that was slightly better!) for some time - with a cloud of insects buzzing around me - until finally, after some struggling the chain came right out of the bottle and at last I could lower my arms and actually lie down. Which I did, right into the dog mess.

I rolled out and crawled, weeping to where I’d hidden my rucksack. I was desperate for a drink, and I’d kept a bottle of water right there for when I got down. Until I realised that I’d included the key to the gag with the others in the bottle, now at the bottom of the stream. I tugged at that thing with all my might, but with little success: the strap over my head prevented me from forcing the ball down over my lower teeth and bottom lip. I did manage to dribble a little into the corner of my mouth. Boy, that water tasted like champagne. I’d drunk some and wasted the rest before I remembered that I should have saved some to wash the dog mess off my back and butt…

My arms and legs felt like lead, the pain of returning circulation to my hands adding even more agony to my already sore body. Eventually I calmed down, and I sat up and started to work out my next move. I hadn’t expected the ice to take so long to melt, and it was now late afternoon. Time to get my shoes, then go and fetch the keys, get dressed and go home. I couldn’t walk very fast, with my ankles chained, and after falling painfully several times I settled into a fast shuffle. My falls had grazed my hands and this, along with my sweaty body attracted even more insects. I itched all over. Still, all I had to do was get the key from the stream, then walk back and get my clothes.

I had to hide several times from people enjoying the late afternoon sun, once behind some bushes when a whole family walked by. How they didn’t smell me or notice the buzzing cloud of insects around me I'll never know. Near the stream and car park, a large German Shepherd dog came up behind me whilst I was hiding behind some bushes to avoid its owner, and started smelling me with its long snout. I desperately remained motionless as the dog thrust its nose between my legs whilst its owner called him from the other side of the bushes. The dog hesitated whilst its tongue explored me, and I could feel the heat from its rough tongue as its saliva ran down my legs to join the mess already crusted on. Just as I was thinking I’d have to jump to my feet, discipline won the dog over and it bounded off to its owner. 


Shaking with fear and running with sweat, I remained behind the bush until I heard a car door slam and the car drive off. Exploring myself, I came and came again with a mixture of terror, horror and simple gratification. Finally, with the sun slipping down I stood up and realised that the car park was empty. I shuffled down to the stream and slid gratefully into the cold, clear water. I’d almost landed on my plastic bottle, so I climbed out and gratefully undid the padlocks. My jaw ached with 24 hours continuous gagging, but soon I’d undone them all. At last, I was at least free, if still naked and now that dusk was approaching, a little chilly. . 


I lapped and lapped at the clear stream water until my thirst was satiated, then hid all the bondage gear and locks and started back up the track to collect my clothes. Despite some of the warmth of the day remaining, I was shivering, with a mixture of chill from the water, tiredness and hunger.  I ached all over, and the insect bites, briefly subdued by the chill water, now again began to itch intolerably. Twice I had to hide when I heard people coming towards me with dogs or cycles.

I cannot describe how tired and frightened I now was. I’d gone through agonies the previous night and now I faced a two mile walk to collect my clothes. But as I finally came towards the place where I’d hidden my clothes, I realised that things had changed. On the edge of the bushes a campfire was burning, and I could see people sitting around I drinking beer from cans and laughing and joking. I sat down and cried and cried. I was approaching exhaustion, naked, bitten to bits and now I couldn’t get my clothes. My body ached all over from my self-suspension, and my jaw ached like fury from my 24-hour gagging. It was also getting quite chilly and I was beginning to shiver. All I could do now was wait the revellers out. I hid behind some bushes and before I knew it, sleep had overtaken me.

As I woke, for the second day running, the sun was glaring into my eyes. I was warm again, and as I lay there, my hand moved between my legs. I simply exploded with self-gratification, and lay there comfortably as I slowly started to come down. As I got down to the bushes, I could see my chained and padlocked clothes. It was then that I realised I’d left the padlock key with the others back at the stream and car park…



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