Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

My Windows have never been Cleaner

by Feline

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© Copyright 2002 - Feline - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; cuffs; gag; cons; X

As I stepped out of the shower, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. Large brown eyes, long brown hair, full red lips and a body I am very proud of (particularly my long legs, full breasts and pert buttocks). While I was busy admiring myself, I heard the sound of my housemates leaving to spend the afternoon shopping - I had declined their invitation to join them since I had much more enjoyable plans.

Yesterday, I had plucked up the courage to visit one of the racier underwear shops in the city to buy myself a pair of handcuffs. I had always fantasised about owning a pair... but the sales assistant had been very persuasive about me buying some other goods too, so I ended up with a pair of handcuffs, a shiny red ballgag and a black leather collar. But at least I had the handcuffs - now my fantasies were realised. I couldn't wait to try them out.

Wrapped in my towel and with a pile of clothes in my arms, I wandered back to my bedroom. I often wished that I had an ensuite, since the number of stares I got from my male housemates when I walked around in just a towel was... well... actually, it was rather exciting. I dug my keys out of my pile of clothes and opened my bedroom door - I stepped into my tiny room and let the door swing shut and lock itself behind me.

My room consisted of a bed in the centre, a window at the foot of the bed, a small chest of drawers and a wardrobe. And that was it. The sun was shining in through the window and felt very warm on my skin - I liked the positioning of that window, since wherever I was in the room I still had an excellent view of what was going on outside.

I decided that, if I was going to be bound this afternoon, I would have to look the part. Dumping my clothes and towel on the floor, I wandered over to my underwear drawer and retrieved a black thong g-string, a black lacy suspender belt and a pair of black fishnet stockings (all presents from my last boyfriend). I quickly slipped into them and admired myself in the mirror on the inside of my wardrobe door. Beautiful - I briefly considered wearing a bra, but I've always liked to give my breasts freedom. As I closed the wardrobe, my eye caught a pair of black stiletto boots that I had never worn - I smiled to myself when I realised that they'd go perfectly with the rest of the outfit.

Once I was ready, I walked (with a little difficulty due to the boots) over to the head of my bed and pulled a cardboard box from beneath. Inside was the gear I had bought yesterday.

I quickly buckled the collar around my neck, the snug fit making a shiver run down my spine. Next was the ballgag - I pulled it tight into my mouth and fastened it behind my head. I tried some experimental words and giggled to myself as they came out muffled. And then it was time for the handcuffs...

After a few seconds, I had worked out exactly how they operated. The cute little keys turned clockwise to release the cuffs and there was a little tab that stopped the cuffs from opening or closing - I guessed it was to stop them tightening by mistake. I would have to remember that, though, since the cuffs couldn't be unlocked unless the tab was in the right position. I put the keys on my bed and threaded my cuffs behind the back of my thong, so they were hanging freely by their chain. I stopped for a moment, noticing that my nipples were already hardening... I was especially excited by the prospect of pulling on my cuffs to create pressure on my thong. It took all of my self-control to continue - I was so excited, I wanted to stop my adventure to pleasure myself there and then.

Taking a deep breath, I put my hands behind my back and closed my eyes. I was getting closer and closer to the moment of truth. I fastened one of the cuffs around my left wrist, paused and fastened the other cuff around my right wrist. Done. I was now a prisoner by my own hand. Just that thought alone was very arousing.

I pulled experimentally at the cuffs... and enjoyed the feeling of the thong tightening against my more sensitive parts. The handcuffs were tight on my wrists - I wouldn't be escaping without the keys. Perfect. I tried wriggling, to see how much freedom of movement my hands actually had. I strained to try to reach my hardening nipples but could get nowhere near and the more I strained, the harder they got. I rolled onto my front, loving the feeling of my breasts crushed beneath me while I writhed, imagining that I had been captured and bound by a burglar and had been left alone while he ransacked the house, but he would be back soon to have his wicked way with me if I didn't escape. I pulled hard at my handcuffs and closed my eyes, moaning loudly into my gag as I felt the familiar rush of orgasm fast approaching. I wriggled, groaned, strained... and froze when I heard a loud clunk from outside.

I looked to the window and saw what could only be the top of a ladder leaning against it. I panicked. Window cleaners! I was about to rush to the window to pull down the blind when I realised that I would be giving the man currently climbing the ladder, and anyone else outside, an unforgettable view. I rolled off the bed and darted for the door, scrabbling with the handle and somehow opening it with my bound hands. I stepped outside onto the landing and breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the door to stop it closing and automatically locking.

What a sight I must have been, I thought to myself. A 19-year-old girl, wearing stockings, suspenders, stiletto boots and a thong as well as a collar, ballgag and handcuffs (attached to the back of the thong), standing on the landing, leaning against her bedroom door, panting hard, hiding from bloody window cleaners!

If I hadn't been gagged, I would have smiled to myself at the absurdity of the situation.

It was then that I saw the top of another ladder appear at the landing window. How many window cleaners were there? This one would have an excellent view of me in all my bound glory, but I didn't want him to have that, now would I? I didn't dare go back into my bedroom so I only had one place to go... downstairs.

Trying not to panic or rush too much, I slowly let the door close behind me, it balanced on the lock, a hair's breadth between being open and locked shut. I prayed that it wouldn't shut itself while I was gone, mainly because the keys to the door, and the keys to the handcuffs, were still inside my room. The sight of the top of a window cleaner's head at the window drove me to forget about my worries and quickly walk downstairs (very difficult in stilettos, I might add). Every step caused my handcuffs to pull on my thong, but at least the window cleaner didn't see me - I was getting more and more excited and aroused by the second. The rooms downstairs had no fewer windows than the rooms upstairs, but they did have more hiding places. I quickly walked to the living room, checking the windows for cleaners as I progressed, and stood by the television, pressing myself to the wall next to a window, hoping that I was undetectable to anyone on the outside.

What a stupid situation I was in, but what an arousing situation it was. I turned around so I was facing the wall and pressed my breasts against it, pulling at the back of my thong as I felt my excitement growing once again. I moaned very softly into my gag... this was nice! I fantasised about the window cleaners seeing me, finding an open window at the back of the house, climbing inside and...

The doorbell rang. I groaned with disbelief. Not only was I frustrated at the constant intrusions for their forcing me to run and hide, I was frustrated by them interrupting my orgasms! The window cleaners wanted to be paid. Perhaps they had heard me moving around inside, or caught a glimpse of me as I darted between the rooms. Whatever the case, they were now knocking loudly on the front door and I was feeling very scared. But they couldn't get in, so what did I have to worry about? I heard them talking to each other, but I couldn't make out what was being said.

Eventually they left, and I breathed a sigh of relief. My troubles were over. Or were they?

It was then that I heard the sound of a key in the door. It could only mean one thing. My housemates were back. Already! The front door opened and I quickly ran to the other side of the room and knelt behind the sofa, there was nowhere else to go - I definitely didn't have time to run upstairs, since the route would have taken me past the now-open front door.

I heard my housemates enter, chatting away. A couple sat heavily on the sofa, less than a metre away from where I was crouching, hiding... shuddering... moaning softly... pulling on my thong... so excited... so close... I felt the rush of orgasm and did my best to keep as quiet as possible as it shot through my body, giving me the best experience of my life while my housemates chatted about football, cars, beer and women in the same room. If one of them had noticed me, I would have died of embarrassment!

I don't know how long I stayed there behind the sofa, kneeling, unable to move for fear of falling over and making a noise. My housemates were there for the night, watching television. The sun set, the curtains were closed and the light came on, casting harsh illumination over my body and making me feel even more exposed but they never discovered me crouching, kneeling behind them - totally helpless. I lost count of the number of silent, shuddering orgasms I had... or the number of different things my housemates did to me in my fantasies... and I don't want to mention the cramps, the hunger, the jaw-ache and the need for the toilet. Or the recurring nightmare of eventually getting upstairs only to find that my door had locked itself - what would I do then? I tried not to think about that eventuality.

Around midnight, my housemates finally turned the television off and dispersed to their rooms. I waited a few more minutes in case anyone got up for anything and then decided that it was time to make my move. I stood up, stretching my legs, the pins and needles in my limbs were agony. I slowly and tiredly stumbled upstairs to my room and was glad to see that my door hadn't locked itself. And all the time I was telling myself: Never again, never again, never again.

I pushed my door open, sat on my bed and found the handcuff keys. I freed myself on the sixth attempt, removed the gag and collar, stripped out of my sweaty underwear and laid back, my head on my pillow, free at last. And then I started planning my next adventure...


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