Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

The Machine

by Professor Challenger

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© Copyright 2002 - Professor Challenger - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; sybian; machine; caught; M/f; bond; cons; X

Diana checked the clock as she moved the Sybian device into position. Plenty of time. Her part-time job left her frequent free afternoons, and she intended to get the most out of this one. She had already undressed, and was finishing her set-up clad only in the leather straps of an upper body harness. She had already put the bondage platform in the middle of their large living room floor, and she set the Sybian carefully on top of it.

The platform was a very basic yet versatile bondage aid. It was merely a three-foot square of sturdy plywood, lightly padded and covered in naugahyde, with rings affixed at the corners and middle of each side. Simple, yet a captive could be attached to it in so many ways--standing, sitting, kneeling, or even straddling something else.

She had set up and tested her ice release, and she was ready to go to the next stage. She pulled the leg harness straps up her legs, and then carefully squatted down over the Sybian's vaginal penetrator, easing it into herself gingerly as she moved to a kneeling position straddling the drum of the device. Working quickly now, she tightened straps connecting ankles to thighs, and leg above the knee to below the knee, so that she was held in a kneeling position. Further straps ran out and connected to the attachment points on the platform, so that she was bound down straddling the Sybian. She connected and tightened down trailing straps from the upper body harness to the Sybian itself, so that she, the device, and the platform were bound into one unit.

The Sybian was controlled by a remote unit attached by a three-foot cord. She took a piece of medical tape and taped the cord to the middle of her back where she would be able to reach it. She next reached down and picked up a smooth leather hood. It was eyeless and had a built in gag. She believed in being quite helpless when in bondage, especially self-bondage. She was a demanding mistress, especially when she was her own captive. She had already pulled her hair up into a tight high ponytail, and she threaded her long red locks though a hole at the top of the hood, then settled it over her face, being sure that the nose holes were well placed, took the gag in her mouth, and snugged the hood's laces down and tied them off.

Only one more thing to do. She felt around and picked up the leather wrist cuffs with their chain connector, and three identically keyed padlocks. She closed and locked one cuff around her left wrist, than reached behind her and cuffed the right wrist. She might still have worked free, but she took the third padlock and locked the cuff chain to a d-ring at the center back of her harness. Now her hands were held at her back just below shoulder blade level, and she could not reach a single one of the straps or connectors she had bound herself with. Sighing with pleasure, she relaxed into the bondage. Oh, there were small discomforts, a strap here or there a bit tighter than ideal, but that was part of the game.

Now for the piece de resistance: she caught the Sybian control in her fingers and slowly dialled the rotation and vibration controls upward. The machine throbbed to life between her thighs. it was blissful. She dialled the machine to a slow, teasing rate. She writhed and struggled in her bonds, creating a delicious tension as the machine slowly pushed her to a fever pitch. She clenched her groin muscles and bore down, shouting triumphantly into her gag as she surfed through a deep and satisfying orgasm.

As she brought her breathing under control again, she caught the control and turned it off. The house was silent. She had no idea how much time had elapsed, but her keys had not yet dropped. It couldn't be too much longer, but she didn't want to sit bored waiting, even though it surely wouldn't be very long. On impulse, she reached the control again and dialled the device to a higher setting than she'd ever tried before.

She grunted with surprise at the power and speed with which the machine came to life inside her. Frantically, she pawed at the control unit, which pulled the cord out from under the sweat-soaked tape. The control unit fell away, out of her reach.

She bent as far to the side as she could, but the control, which now lay down by her right foot, was far out of reach. Now she struggled for freedom in earnest as the mindless machine ruthlessly stimulated her already tender parts. She thrashed her body back and forth and screamed frustratedly behind her gag, but only succeeded in adding to the mounting pressure. At last, she recognized that the building tension had gone past the point of irritation and was building toward another orgasm. She moaned and tried to relax into it, when, suddenly, the Sybian went dead. She stiffened in shock. The damn machine had blown a fuse!

Now she moaned again in disappointment, and writhed in her bonds in a different fashion, trying now to bring herself to the point the machine had approached. Unable to move enough to bring herself off, she gave up and groped behind her for the keys. Surely, they should have fallen by now?

"Yes, you're right, the keys should have dropped by now. However, I intercepted them."


She jerked and turned her hooded face as far as she could in the direction of her husband's voice. Even heated as she was, it seemed she could feel a blush spread over her whole body.

"That was quite a show you were putting on. Ride 'em cowgirl! I'd have thought that thing was trying to buck you off-except you're strapped into the saddle. Quite securely, too," he added as she felt testing tugs on the straps that bound her. "Excellent!" he went on, "Because now you're mine!"

She groaned a protest, but knew it was useless. Both of them were into bondage, including self-bondage, and they had set the rule that if either one caught the other bound, the captive was the finder's to use as they would, for as long as they would. Both of them were practical people and jobs and real-life concerns would of course end a scene, but Diane knew she was in for a time. She had "caught" Phillip a number of times, and some of them, she was sure, he had intended to be taken by her--his releases had been timed much too long, or had "failed" mysteriously. She, on the other hand, had always made it a point of honour never to be caught out, although, as she had intended this afternoon, she sometimes teased herself with a tight deadline.

"The judge adjourned court for the weekend early. None of us was going to argue! I got John to take the briefs back to the office--it's on his way--and hurried straight home. I had hopes of what I'd find, but this is better than I had imagined!"

The Sybian whirred to life again. Even on it's lowest settings, it was shortly making her pant. Phillip used the control with fiendish delicacy, varying the intensity from slow to fast to off, raising her to the pitch of near-orgasm, then letting her fall back in seemingly endless orgy of remote-control ravishment.

She continued her slow torment; he occasionally let his hands play over her body, caressing her breasts, her pubic mound, the exposed parts of her thighs. But his damnable hands never strayed far from the control unit, so that when he felt her coming close to orgasm, he could turn the machine off.

He brought some other straps or rope, and ran taut lines between her collar and her knees. At first, this made no sense to her. She couldn't be any more helpless than she was now. And then it was revealed to her. Fingers flying while the Sybian remained sullenly throbbing on its lowest setting, he undid the clips that held her down to the platform and the machine. He then hoisted her bodily into the air, off of the still vibrating penetrator. She gasped in shock. Phillip was a strong man, but she never got used to having him lift her, let alone when she was bound and blindfolded. If he dropped her, she would surely be injured.

He did not. Swiftly, he turned her body and set her carefully down on the carpet. Now she understood the extra straps, for she was held in the kneeling position--except this time she was face down. She made a tripedal form, balanced on her two knees, and a third point made of her head and upper chest. She squirmed her face to side so that she could breathe. She fleetingly thought that she must look particularly obscene with her ass in the air and oozing cunt for all to see. Most coherent thought came to an end, however, when Phillip knelt between her knees and trust his penis into her. He seized her harness straps and pulled her to him like a jockey sawing at the reins, over and over. She was half-smothered as she was borne into the thick carpet. She came in a muscle-cracking spasm, trying to rear up against him, against the straps that bound her. Her visual field, so long only darkness, filled with stars. She went limp.

He flipped her over again. She was dimly aware that this time there was a cushion under her upper back to protect her arms. Phillip came down upon her. He was naked, and eased himself into her again. He lowered himself, easing the weight of his torso down on her pelvis, pinning her to the floor. He wrapped his muscular arms around her, squeezing her pinioned arms even closer to her body, crushing her breasts with his broad chest, clutching her to him as though he longed to assimilate her into himself. He took his pleasure at last in long, slow, firm strokes, ignoring the muffled mewling that was the only sound she was capable of making. By now, she was past any other orgasm, yet she still felt a hot flush of pleasure when he came inside her. It seemed he filled her with a river of warm semen. Then he lay still.

Finally, he eased himself off her. He loosed the cords holding her knees to her neck, so she could at least let her seemingly boneless legs flop into a more comfortable position. She writhed onto her side, letting her knees fall together for the first time in what seemed like days, pleasurably/painfully squeezing her outraged sex, which seethed still. He fumbled at the back of her neck, loosening the laces of the hood, then rolled her back on her back.

He loosened the lower part of her hood, and worked it carefully up away from her mouth. He gently eased the gag out, and wiped away dried drool from around her lips. "You OK?" He asked.

"Ohh, you--" she husked.

"Enough of that," he chided, "Here, I've brought you water. Open up." She complied, and he let her take deep sips of water from a container her held.

"Yes, I needed that!" she admitted, "Now, untie me please!" She writhed fetchingly in her bonds.

"In time," he said, "Now open again." She trustingly complied, and was nearly overcome with consternation when he pushed the gag back in her mouth! He flopped her onto her side, and snugged the hood laces down again.

"No, no, my dear--I've waited for this for a long time. But I don't want you to get too cramped up." He rolled her over onto her belly, and then straddled her back, pinning her again. She could feel his penis grazing her buttocks.

"He's gotten too damned good at this!" she raged inwardly.

He pulled her ankles together and strapped them before undoing the links that held them to her thighs. She moaned as he allowed her to straighten her legs out and then bound them together again above and below the knees. He massaged kinks out of her thighs, calves, and ticklish feet, eliciting more wriggles and cries as he did so. Next, he shifted so he was facing her head, his weight on her hips. He took first her left hand and unlocked it from her back, moved it down to the harness at her thigh, and locked it there. Then, he did the same thing with her right hand. He eased up on his knees, and massaged her back and shoulders. Then he stood up.

He stepped away from her, and she heard him take the cork out of a bottle--cognac or Scotch--and pour a drink. At last he spoke. "Aha, me proud beauty, I've got you in me power at last!" He laughed a melodrama villain's laugh. "Oh, yes, you are mine, now. As we agreed, I own you now for as long as practicable, which, since we were going to go to the lake for the weekend, and no one expects us anywhere, I make out to be sometime Monday morning."

She stiffened, then thrashed back and forth, frantically shaking her head, no, no.

"Ah, yes, but we agreed," he said. "I've always followed the letter of our bargain, even when you've gone a bit far with me. So get used to the idea."

He reached down and hoisted her up by the harness into a fireman's carry. "I'll take you up to the bed. You might as well be --relatively comfortable while I think of what to do next."

He chuckled as he patted her bare buttock possessively.

She could only wriggle in his grasp as she seethed inwardly--with renewed arousal.


The End.


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