Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

My Mine Trouble 2

by S M Ackerman

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© Copyright 2010 - S M Ackerman - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; naked; rope; cuffs; gag; susp; winch; outdoors; mine; messy; cons; X

WARNING: Adult only story. Mines, caves, tunnels etc, are potential killers. Do Not enter without serious consideration, preparation, equipment and experience. Act safely and sensibly at all times, stupidity costs lives.

Self bondage is fun, and has been fun since before I care to remember, but eventually, no matter how tight the bondage, no matter how strenuous the situation. There comes a point in every fantasists dreams that it is just not enough! The danger is not as pointed as it once was, the need is more desirous of risk, and by risk I mean being hurt or caught or humiliated publicly, and the need to feel the fear of all of these possibilities burns in your mind. I had arrived at just this point in my bondage life, and on the day that I discovered a disused mine shafts air vent. (continued from part one)

Part Two

I press the button with my thumb and slowly the winch above my head begins to unwind, lowering me into the dark damp hole below where I hang. The ground closes, I stop the winch for one last look around before my desperately needed bondage passes the first point of no return.

Nothing moves, a light breeze is blowing the falling rain, soaking my naked body, cooling me down with its touch, in readiness for my entry into the pitch black of the mine shaft. With a final deep breath I accept my desires and press the button once more. The winch jerks and then continues lowering me. My head passes out of the pleasant world of normalcy (sanity) passing into the dark world of self-bondage and restraint as I am lowered helplessly to my doom.

Tree roots brush against my skin pivoting and twisting me until I am spiralling out of control and feeling quite sick. Luckily I have a ring-gag not a ball-gag, because at least if I puke I can expel the vomit. I swallow hard trying to regain my composure; all the time being lowered deeper into the mine system below me.

The ground appears, lit by my bobbing head torch; I am swinging in a large chamber, held only by a rope through the air passage which is my entry point. I slow the winch lowering myself gently to the floor. As the cable falls slack the hook that holds my life releases (exactly as I planned). I am dumped on the floor, bound and gagged, and quite helpless and alone in the near darkness.

Through my painted goggles I can see very little, my vision is restricted and the only source of light in this hell-pit is my head-torch. I press the up button to the winch and lock it in place, and then shake the remote from my thumb, casting it away into the dark. I am now helpless, my only escape from this incarceration is to crawl or roll to the only entrance I know, and that is a mile (at least) away.

Sitting up is not easy with the ropes cutting into my flesh, and the cuffs restricting my hands, but I try and finally succeed. Why I choose to sit up I can’t say, but I do. I listen, my ears are the only part of me working at normal efficiency, and they tell me sweet damn all. Other than I am surrounded by silence, alone thankfully, and helpless; a victim of my own design. I try scooting backwards, starting out on my long arduous trip to freedom. Scooting is not the best way to move a tightly bound body, but it works after a fashion, and is more comfortable than having my face in the dirt and dust of the mine floor.

I scoot for hours, which in reality could only be minutes, but I find I tire quickly. The dust waits as I fall back, lying on the ground. Already my mouth is dry and feeling yuk as the dust is coating my tongue, adding to my desperation. I wonder if I haven’t gone too bloody far this time, but I am committed (or should be) to my destiny.

I decide to try rolling for a while; the passage way has opened up enough for me to do this. Rolling when bound is hard, because when you get to your arms they try to stop the roll. Anyway I try and to my surprise I find that if I use my fingers as I turn over, I can force my body over and onward. The other thing rolling does is disorientate you, as I found out after my tenth such roll.

My face slammed into a mine-prop, a wooden tree-trunk inserted to support the roof. My goggles shatter and cracks restrict my vision completely in one eye, and reduced it in the other. I sit up as best I can, tears flooding with the sudden and unexpected pain in my cheek and face. I think I have knocked a tooth loose into the bargain, which is going to be expensive and hard to explain as well. Damn it.

I twist and turn until I am sitting more upright whilst trying to see around me. My torch has gone askew and now only lights up to my side, which is not much use. I try rubbing against the tunnel wall to relocate it but only succeed in knocking it off completely. It clatters to the floor, but thankfully remains working.

I pick it up with my cuffed hands but then I discover that I can’t see a damn thing in front of me. I turn onto my side and by twisting the light head in my palms; I find that I can cast a flickering disjointing light beyond me. I squirm forward, levering with my feet and toes, working my way along the floor, whilst breathing in the dust, and having to stop every so often to let everything settle down again.

My pace is very slow this way but at least I am moving, and somewhere beyond my limited sight waits my freedom. For sixty times in a row I push and move myself forward (60 I know because I counted everyone) along the tunnel. By now I should be close to the first of my refreshment bowls, but still there is no sight of it, perhaps I have passed it somehow, the thought troubles me as I can’t see how.

Push with the legs, draw up the feet, bend at the knees, dig in the toes as best I can and push again, sixty-two, and so it goes on to a hundred, with still no refreshments. I have to stop, I have to gather my thoughts and breathe, and think about my situation.

I should easily have arrived at the first bowl and clearly I have not. I can not see how I passed it along the way, so clearly I have not, which can only mean one thing. Either I have gone completely mad and imagined placing the refreshments, or I am going in the wrong direction somehow.

What the hell am I supposed to do now I began to wonder? Do I turn around and hope that I am right, but if I do then I have wasted however long I have been in this trap. If I continue this way forward will I just be increasing the distance I have to crawl back, or will I escape somehow through another exit? Mines I remember can be miles long and very confusing, and right now I am very very confused, and not a little scared.

Turning back does not feel right, there is no logic that can explain this feeling just a strange certainty, that if I continue all will be well in the end.

I continue, in fact I put more effort into moving forward that I have so far. Soon I am rewarded by the tunnel opening out, and the old wooden mine props being replaced with metal supports. This difference, the use of metal rather than wood told me I was in a much newer part of the mine, so hopefully there will soon be an exit. Modern mines must have ways out, or so I figured, when considering health and safety rules that run our lives in any other industry.

I eased forward for the thousandth time, my legs cramping now with the strange demands of such locomotion, and then, to my horror, my world turns upside down. The ground vanishes beneath my breasts, tilting me forward, and twisting me face down. I begin to slide, my body careers totally out of control into the ground. I drop, falling through the air to land with a splash in a mixture of mud and water. Luckily not too deep water, and face up; though my arms hurt with the impact and having my body-weight pinning them into the mud.

To my utter despair my torch blinks out (despite my having held onto it during my fall), leaving me in pitch blackness and wet through. I try to move but the mud holds me fast. I try again, this time braking the suctions grip. I crawl forward because there is no other option, I am facing forward, so I crawl forward, hoping to reach a dry area, shortly I do. What direction I am travelling in now I do not know, where in the mine system I am, I cannot tell. What I do know is my life is very much threatened by my situation, and I am exhausted. My will to carry on driven from me by the fall and my fear, death has never felt so close I can feel its icy grip on my shoulder.

* * * * *

“Sir, Motion detector three-seven-zero has activated.” Called out a pleasant faced young man wearing a dark blue overall.

His words caused a much older man to turn away from another young man and approach him. He looked over the younger mans shoulder, noting the activity sensor. “Not another! Activate protocol one, we have a breach,” he instructed to his subordinate.

The young man reached out pressing a single lit red button, far away in the complex a silent alarm sounds, a red light flashes, and four fit young men dive to recover their equipment. A breach has been detected, and they are ready to respond to it, in whatever way is required…



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