Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

A New Beginning, A New Year 2: The Other Side Of The Fence

by S M Ackerman

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© Copyright 2011 - S M Ackerman - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; M/f; cuffs; remote; well; susp; stuck; voy; rescue; rope; cons; X

WARNING Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy only, to attempt this in real life may result in injury or death.


Part 2: The Other Side Of The Fence.

My name is John and I live in what was my parents house! I am thirty-one and frankly quite happy but I have one thing that is driving me nuts and that is that I like the nurse that lives next door, and despite the fact that whenever we have talked we got along fine I have not been able to get any further with her. Whether that is because I am intrinsically shy, or just some other reason I don’t know. What I do know is that I am finding myself more and more looking out for her, and watching her when she is around. Not in a creepy way, but in a hoping to find an opportunity to get to know her kind of way.

Which is why I am at the bottom of my garden, huddled in the center of a bush looking over our dividing fence, as she sits herself on the grass quite naked, and begins to secure her body for the bondage session she designed for herself. I watch every second, I watched as the rope pulls tight, as she is dragged and lifted and then lowered into the disused garden well. I watch her head disappear followed by her feet and then she is gone, hanging upside down whilst being lowered automatically into the dark. Her bound body securely attached to a steel cable that she had rigged and being lowered from my sight by an electric winch she had fastened into place.

My lovely nurse is a bondage freak, and not only that, she is a self bondage freak! I have died and gone to heaven! I have been a lover of the rope that binds for many years and like she is doing now I have bound myself up in helpless and quite dangerous ways. I have suffered the torment of not knowing if I will survive let alone escape. Now I know and understand some of what is raging through her head as the winch lowers her deeper down the well.

I climb out of my hiding place and over the dividing fence, I intend to look down and see her vanishing into the dark. There is no way she can know that I am watching her, and no way she can do anything about it if she did. I am almost tempted to call down to her but that would spoil the effect she has clearly worked hard to create for herself, and I would never want to do that to her.

The winch jerks and then smokes and finally with a disgusting smell, fuses itself solid. She is hanging down there not having reached the floor, upside down with the blood rushing to her head whilst I stand looking at the destroyed winch, wondering what to do for the best. She can not remain upside down for very long, but equally if I help her then she will know that I was watching her. Decisions, decisions.

Common sense wins out, I have to help her, and damn being revealed as a voyeur; now the question is how do I help her?

The winch cable is metal so not easily cut, it also would not be much use if I cut it because she would fall and I do not know how far from the bottom of the well she is? Therefore how far she would fall is an unknown, but I do know that she would land on her head which is never a good thing to have happen. I could always call the emergency services but then she would be revealed in all her horny and kinky glory, not something I think that she would want, which leaves the rescuing of the hanging nurse firmly in my hands.

Somehow I would have to cut the cable but first having ensured that she will not drop, which means securing it somehow. I depart heading towards my father’s garage. Now he I am certain would have known instantly how to effect a rescue like this, but I am not like him. Practicality is not my strong point, I paint for a living, landscapes and mountains mostly but other not so mundane things as well, through mostly they are not for sale being a bit on the raunchy side. I will most definitely be painting a series of pictures to capture the discoveries I have made today.

Anyway back to the garage. I have rope and pulleys and other useful looking things, I even have a good large hack saw to cut through the cable with but what I don’t have is something to join my rope to the cable securely. It would seem that my nurse will be hanging around for a while yet as I have to go to the hardware store to locate what I will need to rescue her.

Forty minuets later, and with the invaluable assistance of an old man called Fred I hold in my hand a self clamping thingamy, which when position correctly and put under strain, will joint the steel cable to my rope and thus I can cut the winch cable. Then all I need to do is using my strength and the pulleys I will have rigged, to winch her back into the daylight and safety. I will have saved her from a fate worse than death and who knows she might even give me some of her time.

If nothing else I will have got an up close and personal introduction with her and as a bonus I will have seen her naked and close to. The thought of winching her up naked flits through my head, it would be better for her if I had something to cover her modesty with. After all I don’t want her thinking I am some sort of letch, only interested in lusting after her naked ness. I really want her to see me as her knight in shining armour, he that saves her and protects her modesty, and all for the noble pleasure of speaking to her.

Another forty minutes pass and I am once again standing by the well with a rope in my hand and a collection of winch blocks and with a ladder propped against the tree from which her winch cable is dangling.

I secure the blocks using lengths of chain and then feed the rope through it in such a way as I can pull the cable up. This sounds simple but means feeding it in quite a round about way, as there is probably thirty feet of cable to wind up and only ten feet of clearance from tree branch to hole top. This means that the cable needs to be pulled up and across the and back again using up the forty feet of cable and rope thus bringing her up to ground level I start the process of routing the cable which takes a good hour to do.

I am nearly ready to begin fitting the rope to the cable and then finally, cutting through it to free her. This is the point that I need to decide upon do I remain anonymous and keep her in the dark so to speak as to what is happening. She might like the fear such an action would generate, or do I call down to her and put her mind at ease, tell her that she is being rescued and will not die in the self imposed pit of black night.

I decide that I will wait a while let her sweat and swing as I fit the rope and then call down to her just before I begin to winch her up again.

The rope sways around, as I pull and twist the union into place, I can feel her body weight on the far end of the rope below me and sometimes I felt her hit the well side and hear her grunt out her pain, as speech is not an option for her, gagged as she is…

Once I am satisfied that all is as it should be I pick up the metal saw and taking hold of the cable I prepare to begin the cutting. By now the sun is setting it has been nearly four long hours since I first decided to rescue my nurse, and nightfall is fast arriving. At this rate it will be dark by the time I get her up again, and the question of covering her modesty will be a mute one.

“I am cutting the cable that is holding you don’t worry I have replaced it with a new one.”

It was then that I realised that she might not know that her winch has seized and therefore would not understand why I am cutting her cable.

“Your winch seized as it was lowering you and now you are stuck, clearly you can’t free yourself so I hope you don’t mind but I took it upon myself to rescue you!”

I heard a grunting noise from down below and took it as a sign of agreement or even relief as I once again began cutting through the steel cable again. She must be feeling the vibration as the saw motion rocks back and forward, the cable will transfer and probably increase the effect she feels, so I wonder what is going through her mind right now. She does not even know who is rescuing her or how they know that she needs rescuing! I might be wrong about that I realise as I think it through, she may have recognised my voice as I warned her of what is happening. There and again she might not have, which should only add to the fear she must be feeling and with that fear I hope some arousal. The question is will she be disappointed when she discovers it is only me, her the gawky artist of a next door neighbour?

With the rope connected and running through four pulleys I applied pressure, and to my amazement the rope moved effortlessly; even though I am lifting the total body weight of a self bondage bound woman, swinging thirty feet below the ground. I pull and pull and with each muscle straining she rises nearer to the point of escape and safety. It was when she was twelve feet beneath my feet that I lose my nerve, I halt pulling her up, and think. What will I do if she was angry at me, what if I am wrong and she hasn’t needed rescuing, what if!

That was exactly the point that I stopped what I was doing and secured the rope to the nearest tree, whilst I look around and work out how I can rescue her and also remain anonymous.

Now logically I will never have a better time to get to know her than the moment I rescue her, but equally I am shy, and with that shyness comes fear; and right now, it is fear that is driving me to avoid confrontation, and fear that is separating me from her. I do not know how to avoid my fear and so I rig another set of ropes, these are designed to allow her to lower herself to the ground once she is hanging clear of the shaft. I arrange the ropes so that I can pull her up, swing her around and then leave, letting her lower herself and allowing me to vanish without being seen.

There is of course the matter of my voice, I have spoken to her, called down the shaft to her, and allowed her to hear me. Though there and again there is a good chance that she did not recognise my voice, and the shaft might will have altered its sound, so perhaps she will never know that it is me that saw her bind herself. Me that watched her lower herself into a well shaft naked and roped tight. Me that rescued her when her adventure went disastrously wrong.

I vanished through the hedge back into my original hiding place, but this time holding the rope which will raise her the last few feet. She is bucking and groaning in her bonds and gag probably wanting to know what has happened and why I have stopped lifting her out. I pull on the rope and feel her body weight rising again, five pulls and her ankles come into view quickly followed by her calves, and then to my wonder her bottom. Its peaches and cream loveliness glittering in the dim fading light of the evening. The ropes cutting deep into her flesh arouse me, the nakedness of her bottom makes me feel guilty for looking; but still I look.

I think of my voyeuristic pleasure as a reward for saving her life. Another pull and she reveals her flat stretched stomach, two more pulls and a perfect pair of bound breasts appear. Two further pulls and her body is clear of the shaft. A tug again and again lifts her to the point that she can just reach out and grasp the rope that dangles waiting for her.

She pulls and is swung away from the hole and lowered gently to the ground exactly where she had started from in the first place. I watch as she frees herself from her captivity. I watch as she investigates the frozen welded winch, and the rope fittings that made her escape possible. I leave at this point for soon she will be looking for the person that made this all possible, and that is me, and I do not want to have to face her at the moment.

* * * * *

My door bell rings, I wander through from my kitchen leaving my jam covered toast to go cold, wondering who has rung my front door bell. I open the door and waiting on the mat for me is a large brown parcel. I pick it up and carry it through to the kitchen, my toast remains untouched and forgotten as I put the box on the table top.

A sharp knife makes short work of the tape binding the box, the flaps lift clear revealing a black plastic bag, I gently touch the bag something hard and round and coiled waits for me. I prod the bag again this time with a wooden spatula wondering what it might contain, or who might have sent it. The content moves as I prod it but not of its own accord but because I have pushed it. The shape changes as the coil flattens, and suddenly I have one of those moments, the ones that explain or clarify.

I rip the bag open and I am right. I look at the contents, I wonder at its presence and then the reason explodes in my thoughts. I grab the bag and head once more towards the front door. As I open it I notice through the glass window set into the frame a human shape. A female human shape!

The door swings open and she is standing before me looking up at me and smiling whilst holding out her hands. I glance down and see the steel and chain of a pair of handcuffs. She is holding them out, silently offering herself to me.

Now how I find myself wondering, how do I release a set of handcuffs. I smile, step back, and say to her.

“You had better step inside miss…”

A new beginning for two not one started today!!!

The End.

10. 09.11

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