Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories


by Otto Dix

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© Copyright 2010 - Otto Dix - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbm; chain; nylons; rope; cuffs; cbt; electro; bdsm; toys; cons; X

On rare occasion, a visual image imbeds itself deeply into your mind. An inspiration built from guided fragments of thoughts from various disparate contexts that suddenly coalesce into a perfect storm of self-bondage scenario. Once it happens, it holds onto portion of your attention span like a pit-bull, handicapping your ability to do even the most mundane of activities until you eventually realise your fantasy. You fill out the necessary bits of the scene and perhaps add a few extra elements, but center-staged is your main inspired element.

Most of the apparatus had already been prepared earlier that day. I took a shower to wash away the sweat of the day and took a nap to rest. My ordeal during the evening would be taxing. I am a middle-aged male, that has been working very hard to improve my health in the last few years, and I don’t hesitate to say that I am looking pretty damn good these days. Women at the office flirt with me, and I enjoy the attention. I had not noticed before how much women touch men that they are attracted to. In today’s work environment, the touching is done by the women.

After a two hour nap, I awoke refreshed and excited. I had some erectile dysfunction medication from when I was overweight, but really didn’t need them any more since losing about 60 pounds. I still liked to use them in SB scenes since it emphasizes my helplessness; I can’t even avoid an erection during the scene. I took one pill and went about last minute preparations while waiting for it to take effect. I walked down to the basement and prepared my basic ice-cube release mechanism, and my water-bucket emergency release. I set the timer on the motor (more later on what the motor does) to start in 45 minutes. Then the computer program was started so that it would deliver electrical stimulation at about the same time.

I returned to my bedroom and dressed as I usually do for my self-bondage scenes. I am not particularly proud of my stocking fetish, but it enhances my experience. I pulled out a fresh pair of black thigh-high stockings and pulled them up each leg, careful not to tear or ruin them. I could begin to feel the effects of the medication as my member thickened and I felt a rush of blood to my face. The excitement of the scene combined with the rush of blood to my head made me feel dizzy, and I took a moment to sit on the bed for a moment before continuing.

I wrapped a chain around one ankle and locked it in place. In a minute, I would be wrapping the other end around my other ankle to hobble myself. Next, I picked up a stainless steel shackle, the type used on sailing vessels. It was just the right size to wrap around my testicles. The shackle was modified slightly. Using a piece of duct-tape, I installed a row of four thumb-tacks at the base of the shackle, with the points facing forwards. I poked the point of the tack through the sticky side, and then wrapped the tape around the base of the shackle. Once the shackle was installed, the tender flesh under my balls rested against the sharp points of the tacks. The shackle also had a short wire attached to the bolt of the shackle, and a tiny key ring around the base of the shackle in-between the four tacks. The wire was to attach to the computer sound system that would begin delivering electrical stimulation in about 35 minutes from now. The last item on the bed to be installed was a pair of handcuffs. I closed one cuff around my left wrist and mustered up my courage for the final phase of the bondage.

Walking carefully not to press my scrotum any further into the sharp points of the tacks, I made my way to the basement where I had prepared my self-bondage vision earlier that day. Stretched across the room was a thin cord. The cord formed a continuous loop, starting from one end of the room to the other, then straight up to the ceiling and traversed the length of the room again before descending. At one end of the room was a motor attached to a large spool. The cord was wrapped about a dozen times around the spool and when the motor ran, the spool was geared to turn very slowly. I carefully lifted one leg over the crotch-level cord and reached down. I passed my ankle chain through a short piece of ABS pipe and wrapped the chain around my right ankle and locked it on a small lock. My ankles were now hobbled about a foot apart.

Attached to the cord in front of me was a small snap-hook. I lifted my balls carefully to expose the key ring on the shackle and snapped the hook to it. Directly in front of the snap hook were two cock-rings resting on the cord, the cord passing through each ring. Each ring had an electrical wire attached to it. From a bottle of olive oil placed within reach, I proceeded to spread a liberal amount of oil over my balls and enlarging cock. I then brought the first ring along the cord towards my cock. I slid the ring onto my cock and slipped it right to the base of my cock and attached the electrical wire from the shackle to the wire connected to my cock-ring. I slid the second ring towards my cock and slipped it on in the same manner, but stopped as it nestled in place under the head of my penis. The cord and cock-rings now held my penis straight out in front of me.

The next step was to attach the clothes pegs. They hung from the ceiling from solid cords. Twenty of them hung from the ceiling at various lengths in front of me. One at a time, I took a clothes peg and attached it to my body. One on each nipple, two each on the outside each of my chests, some along my side, and finally two rows of three on my penis and four on my balls.

The electrical wires attached to the rings and the shackle lead straight down, taped to the tube that hobbled my ankles, and back to a coil of wire and the computer sound system. My cock was now throbbing against the rings and I was nearing my point of no return. I had about 30 minutes before either the motor or electrical stimulation would start. That would give me plenty of time to contemplate my fate and anticipate the self-imposed torment I had prepared for myself. Now I had to decide a critical element of the scene; blindfold or no blindfold? Balance was a critical aspect of this scene, and being blindfolded would add to the difficulty level. My penis swelled in reaction as I raised the cloth blindfold to my face.

With the blindfold in place, I had little else to do except to wrap the remaining handcuff around my right wrist. I took hold of my emergency release cord which was tied to a cuff key and a large bucket of water with red food dye. In case of fire or break and entry or some other emergency, I would be able to release myself. I certainly would not be tempted to pull that cord otherwise. I looped the cord through the cuffs, and wrapped the cuff around my wrist and waited a bit. Once I apply just enough pressure to close the cuffs just one single “click” , there would be no turning back. My breathing quickened and my heart pounded. This is exactly the sort of reaction I am trying to elicit in my self-bondage scenes but find it more and more difficult to achieve. Long gone are the days were simply tying myself to the bed would cause the sort of adrenaline rush I crave. I paused to relish the moment; to savour it like a good wine, then “CLICK”. It was done. My heart raced harder for a few seconds until I managed to calm myself down with some deep breathing. I adjusted my cuffs to fit snugly around my wrist and tested my bonds. Everything was well secured.

I had some time to kill until the real fun began. I tried standing as still as possible, but the blind fold limited my ability to maintain my balance. If I rocked back even slightly, the cord would pull the shackle (and thumb-tacks) forward, digging the sharp points deep into my scrotum. The cord pulling on my shackle was my main feedback for balance, and I concentrated heavily on it. I could feel my penis head and shaft straining against the cock-rings. I tried to calm my mind and avoid thinking about the passage of time. “Just relax” I would say to myself. “Don’t worry anymore; there is nothing you can do to avoid the torment you have prepared for yourself. It’s inevitable. Just experience it and come out the other side stronger.”

Time passed, but it was difficult for me to gauge when all the motor and electrical stimulation would start. Both were on separate timers but they were not accurate enough for me to know which would start first. As if happens, the electrical stimulation began first. I gasp as the electricity began. It felt like a large hand grasping my penis and squeezing with the tightness shifting from one area to the next. The type of electrical signal lasted about two minutes and changed randomly. Some were pleasant; others not so pleasant. Not long after the start of the electrical signals, I heard the click that signalled the start of the motor. The spool began to turn slowly, moving the cord forward, pulling the snap-hook, and the shackle around my balls. I was quick to take a small step forward to follow the cord like I was a dog on a leash. If I failed to move forward, the sharp points of the tacks would certainly encourage me to comply.

The cord inched ahead at a very slow pace, making it easy for me to keep up, even though I was hobbled. It would take at least an hour for me to cross the length of the basement. In about an hour and a half, my ice-cube release mechanism would drop a handcuff key from the ceiling, allowing myself to unlock the cuffs. Along the way, I prepared some challenges to endure, and I had prepared an extra special, deliciously evil, torment to endure at the ‘end of the line’.

With each step forward, I felt a tug at a couple of clothes pegs. The pain would multiply exponentially with each micro-step forward. The pegs on my balls even pulled my scrotum against the sharp tacks. As I increased the tension on a line, I would gauge whether or not I had enough freedom of movement to completely rip the peg from my body. One or two at a time, I would take a breath and jerk my torso to pull the peg loose. However, my crotch was less free to move about. For the pegs attached to my penis and balls, I would have to wait patiently for the advancement of cord to slow pull the peg free. Often, the peg would end up pinching a small piece of skin before eventually freeing itself. I could feel my blind fold becoming damp from the flow of tears.

With the pegs removed, I waited for the next challenge. After another 10 minutes of being slowing lead forward, I became ever more fearful of what awaited me. I tried my best to hold myself back as much as possible, letting the tacks dig deep into my flesh until I could endure the pain no longer, and finally relent and take another small step forward. Somewhere along the way, my movement would trigger a motion detector. Connected to the motion detector were four hair dryers tied to chairs on both sides of me. Each hair dryer was pointed at where my crotch would pass, and each was set to “HOT”. All four hair dryers started with a deafening whirl which made me jump back just a bit. At first the air was warm and comforting, but within seconds, the hot air became increasingly uncomfortable. My only defence was to move from side to side, trying to avoid having the hot air be directed at one spot for too long. As I struggled, the tacks dug in, warning me to contemplate my movements carefully. With all the moving and tugging at the shackle and cock-rings, I could feel the flow of precum oozing from my penis.

Like some obscene car wash, my body finally advanced past the dyers and I had to mentally prepare myself for the final stage of my torment. Although I was blindfolded, I knew that about a foot in front of me was a tube. It was an artificial vaginal I built myself, and the cord that was leading me ran right through it. It was made from an ABS pipe fitted with a piece of bicycle inner tube. The tube was clamped to the outside of the pipe, then led inside and folded over the outside of the opposite end of the pipe and clamped down. In the middle of pipe was a small brass valve purchased at an aquarium supply store used to regulate the flow of air. Using tubing and a syringe, I pumped warm water in between the pipe and inner tube. I added enough water to make it a nice tight fit when my penis was fully inserted.

As the cord progresses, my penis would slowly be forced to enter the artificial vagina. I imagined what it would look like as the head of my penis penetrates the well-lubricated membrane. Once fully penetrated, a large bead tied to the cord would cause a break in the current that ran the motor, but the electrical stimulation that tormented and teased my cock would continue. After about an hour of electrical stimulation, I am ordinarily desperate for release. The slightest physical stimulation is enough to tip me over the edge. Unfortunately, once I orgasm, the electrical stimulation becomes unbearable. I know that while my penis is slowly dragged through the artificial vagina, it will be nearly impossible for me to avoid orgasm and at the same time I might be so desperate for an orgasm I might forget about the consequences and feverishly fuck the plastic pussy until I explode.

To add one more element to my torment, the lubricant that currently fills my counterfeit cunt is mixed with a generous amount of hot sauce. I know that my final 10 or 15 minutes of self bondage will have me squirming, screaming and crying. While I desperately want a chance to release this orgasm, I know that the penalty I will have to pay will be the tacks digging into my scrotum, post orgasmic electrical stimulation, and the intense capsaicin-induced burning sensation.


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