Jo’s Lunch Break

I suppose the standard way to start these things it to give you the mini biography, so let's get that out of the way. My name is Johanna Sinclair. I'm 24, dark haired (black to brown, depending how much sun I've gotten recently) and blue eyed. I'm short, just topping 5 ft, and not even by a full inch, and my weight is my own business. I am however, fairly slim, still curvy, but nothing like a super model (I'm too pale to be one too, not to mention too short).

Obviously, I like bondage, specifically self bondage, but more than that I like humiliation. Which leads to self bondage in public (or public-ish) places and a whole slew of other fetishes that we'll get into in the future. It also leads into this story.

About three weeks ago the business on the top floor of the building I work in moved to a new location. This left the top floor completely abandoned, which opened up an idea that had been percolating in my mind for a while.

I've always wanted to be tied up in a bathroom stall, on the floor or face into the toilet. It's that whole humiliation thing, obviously. The idea of discovery plus the humiliation of being tied with my head in a toilet is a pretty potent turn on. Of course, it's the idea of being discovered. Actual being found like that would seem like a really bad idea. But with a floor completely abandoned...

It took me a few days, but I figured out a plan. My lunchbreak is usually about an hour, and I frequently leave the office to hit the gym during that time. Which makes for a perfect way to slip away with a bag of stuff for about an hour.

At home, the night before, I loaded my gymbag with the gear I'd need, and froze a bunch of keys for the various locks along with a long piece of kite string (tied to the locks) in a piece of tupperware. Getting ready for work I skipped out on panties on whim, going with just garter and stockings under a skirt and a longsleeved blouse. At work I put the tupperware in the freezer and got ready to try and do some work before my fun.

I fidgeted through the first half of the day, lost in thought about my upcoming lunch break. Finally, when the day reached a reasonable time, I grabbed my tupperware of ice and keys from the company kitchen, grabbed my bag, and headed to the service elevator.

I was practically bouncing by the time I got up to the fifth floor and entered the bathroom. Entering the handicapped stall I set the bag down, took off my top and my bra, and slid my skirt off. Now I was clad only in my garter belt, stockings, and high heels. I took everything out of my bag and put my clothes in it, locking the zipper tabs together. Regardless of anything else, I was now stuck mostly naked until the ice melted.

I knelt on the floor of the bathroom, shivering briefly as my knees touched the cold tile, and reached into the pile of items from the bag for a pair of hair bands which I used to pull my hair back into two loose pigtails.

Next, I pulled out two long ropes, which I used to make braided coils from one handicap bar to the other, one towards the door stall and one towards the toilet. Leaning forward to rest my neck on the toilet bowl, I made sure that I could hook my arms up over it behind me and rest them at the elbows. I then took two short ropes, tied them around the base of each pigtail, near the hairbands, and loosely braided them in with the hair. The basic preparations complete, I settled down to the real bondage work.

Standing up, I grabbed a few coils of rope and passed them around my chest, above and below my breasts. Reaching behind, I knotted off most of the rope to the side of my back, looped the remainder over one shoulder, through the ropes in front between my breasts, and back over the other shoulder, tying them all off into the original knot. My boobs started to swell and darken, and my nipples hardened at the increased sensitivity.

Reaching back down, I grabbed another long length of rope, which I passed around my waist twice before passing it loosely down through my pussy and up through my butt cheeks. I pulled it up through the rope around my waist, but didn't tie it off, leaving about five feet of it hanging loose behind me. Going back to the (diminishing) pile on the floor, I grabbed a butt plug and some lube. After thoroughly lubing it up, I slid the butt plug in till it popped into place. I then grabbed a vibrator (ribbed for my pleasure) and slid it in place too. Turning both on low I pulled the crotch rope a bit tighter to keep them in place and knelt back down.

I stopped there, for a moment, savoring the sensation of the ropes embracing my breasts and splitting my pussy, with the low vibrations of the plug and vibrator. It was delicious, but I wasn't done yet.

A set of ankle cuffs came out of the pile next, with a three link chain connecting them. Fastening them, I grabbed a rope ratchet and tied it to the middle link, and then fed a length of rope through it. Both ends of that length of rope were draped over the braided coil closer to the toilet, and one end of it was fastened to a pair of wrist cuffs. I pulled out a second rope ratchet and tied it to the other braided coil, feeding the extra rope from my crotch tie into it. Then I took out the ice/key combo and hung it from the hook on the stall door, tying the long end of the kite string to my wrist.

I was close the moment of truth, but there was two things left to consider. The last items on the floor were a ball gag and pair of clover clamps, each with a long piece of kite string tied through a small sponge. Picking them up, I dropped the sponge into the toilet and waved my other hand in front of the motion sensor, setting off the auto-flush. As I had hoped, there was a strong but not really strong pull on the nipple clamps.

I put on the ball gag and tightened its strap. Then, taking a deep breath through my nose and bracing for the pain, I fastened a clamp to my right nipple and then the left. I shook for just a moment, then just stayed still as the initial pain subsided, feeling the early stirring of an orgasm inside me. Using all my willpower, I didn't reach down to play with myself or turn up the vibrators. Instead, I leaned forward until my neck was again resting on the toilet bowl, making sure the sponge was not yet in the toilet. I grabbed the rope braided into my pigtails and tied each one to the pipe running into the back of the toilet, which I could just barely reach. It was a good thing I had removed the sponge--in getting the ropes tied to the pipe I set off the auto flush twice.

Taking the sponge and placing it in the toilet, with my head now pinned to the rim, almost face into the water, I reached behind me for the wrist cuffs. After a bit of fumbling I got them locked on. I then grabbed the end of the rope from my crotch tie, and started pulling tight. The ratchet did its job, taking up the slack and not letting the rope slide back at all. I got it just to this side of painful, and before I had time to think about it gave it one more sharp tug, pulling it deep inside my pussy lips and jamming the vibrator and butt plug deep inside me. I let go of that rope, and grabbed the other end of the rope connecting my wrist cuffs and ankle cuffs. I pulled it as tight as I could, leaving all my weight on my elbows over the braided coil and on my knees. A little bit of my weight rested on my neck, making it just slightly difficult to breathe. Like it or not, I was in it for the long haul now--good thing I liked it!

Lets go over this again, for anyone who got lost. At this point I was in a sort of hogtie, with most of my weight on my knees. My arms were pulled up over my head and bent backwards over a coil of rope between the handicap bars, and connected to my ankles by another length of rope. My head was tied down by my own pigtails to the toilet, keeping my head more or less in the water--if I relaxed my neck, my face would drop in. I was only in garter and stockings and heels, with a tight crotch rope holding in a vibrator and a butt plug and ratcheted tight against another rope coil on the handicapped bars. My breasts were bound, and clover clamps were viciously pinching my nipples. The clamps were attached by a cord of string to a sponge floating in the toilet--if I moved enough to set off the auto-flush, the sponge would go round and round and get partly sucked down, pulling on the clamps attached to my nipples. And I had about half an hour before the ice melts enough that my keys would fall so I could reel them in and let myself out of this.

I tried to stay still for awhile, enjoying the buzzing in my pussy and butt. I could feel the beginnings of an orgasm, but with the vibrators set low it was just that: the beginnings and nothing else. Gently, I rocked back a little, testing how far I could move. I didn't have much slack, but there was enough to rock slightly into the crotch rope, rubbing my pussy lips and clit and pushing the vibrators deeper in. I started rocking back rhythmically, going slowly and steady to keep from pulling my hair or setting off the flush. The feelings from the vibrators and rope got stronger and stronger, rising up to a climax.

Suddenly there was a click and a mechanical whine from the autoflush--I had moved too much and set it off. A torrent of water flushed into the bowl, pulling furiously on the sponge and tearing at the clamps. My little test hadn't been that good--it hurt a lot more than I had expected. I was half expecting to see the clamps and my nipples go down the toilet as I screamed into my gag, it hurt so much. In the midst of the pain, my orgasm exploded and I rocked back and forth in my bonds, hardly noticing as a spray of water hit me in the face as the toilet refilled.

I lay there, slack for a moment, as I recovered. My nostrils were flaring for air. With the pressure from the toilet rim and the water seeping into my nose, I felt vaguely like I was drowning. My nipples were on fire, as was my scalp from the repeated pulling at my hair. It had been an amazing orgasm, but I seriously hurt now, and if I hadn't completely lost track of time, I had at least another 20 minutes to go.

It wasn't long before I caught myself rocking against the crotch rope again. The vibrators weren't powerful, but they certainly had enough going to keep me wanting more. I tried to hold still, but the sensations were too strong, and soon I was pushing against the rope for all it was worth, until I heard the click and whir again, and had to brace for another horrible round of abuse on my poor nipples. In the midst of it, like last time, I had an amazing orgasm--quite possibly stronger than the last--that left me very nearly senseless. I dropped my head into the toilet, losing for a moment all muscle power, and came up gasping and snorting for air. I pulled on the kite string, hoping to pull the key free, but it held fast. I had no idea how much longer I was going to be in here, or how much time had past.

I resolved to hold very still--I didn't think my nipples could take another round of the sponge-based torture. The bathroom was very quiet--just the sound of my breathing, the creak of the ropes, the steady drip from the melting ice, and the faint buzz of the vibrators in my butt and pussy. My arms and knees and back were aching with fatigue, and everything else burned. I was starting to have trouble breathing as more and more weight came to rest on my neck. I was tired and I wanted to get myself out of this mess as quickly as possible.

Holding still was a losing battle--in a slight shift to try and get less weight on my neck I set of the flush again, triggering another round of torture and partial drowning, which got me going enough that I couldn't begin to stop myself from rocking against my ropes. It became a vicious cycle--the flush would set off, causing me to jump and wiggle, which would end up with me rocking, which would end up with the flush going off again. I had a little orgasm everytime it seemed, no matter how much it hurt. Again and again my nipples were pulled on and water was sprayed over my face, and more than once I dropped my head into the water again. After what seemed like endless repetition my world went white as the biggest orgasm I could imagine tore through me--it went on and on, with my whole body tensed against the ropes. I have no idea if the flush went off again during that time or not.

I came back to my senses with head just above the water. Dumbly, I tested the kite string, and blissfully found that the ice had melted. Over a course of a few minutes I reeled in the keys and managed to get my wrists free. My ankles dropped to the floor and I slowly and stiffly raised my arms up and off the braided coil. I had marks across the inside of each elbow--deep grooves from where they had rested on the coil. I undid my hair, and reaching down I undid the nipple clamps, yelling into my gag again and almost cumming from the pain as blood circulation was restored. I undid the rest of my bondage a quickly as I could, opened my bag and swapped rope and gear for clothing, which I quickly changed back into.

I stepped out of the stall and checked myself in the mirror. I was mess. I had tightened the gag too far and had lines from the strap on either side of my lips. My hair was bedraggled from all the water, there was drool and water all down my chin, and all my makeup was running. It looked like I had been sobbing for the last 20 minutes, which on reflection might have been true.

Going back down to my floor I managed to steal back into my office without anyone seeing me, where I did what I could to fix my makeup and used a ton of concealer to hide the gag strap lines. As it turned out, I had another 15 minutes left to my lunchbreak, but in my sore state food just didn't sound that appealing. Besides, what salad could compare with self bondage?

17.12.07