Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

Out of the Frying Pan

by Jennifer

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© Copyright 2005 - Jennifer - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbm; F/m; plastic mac; cons; X

Out of the Frying Pan by Jennifer

I enjoy bondage, and if I can’t find someone to help out, it has to be self-bondage. Not always a good idea, especially when ‘The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft a gley’ (with apologies to Robert Burns). In other words, if something can go wrong, it will go wrong. I remember one occasion when it did just that, but with a not altogether unsatisfactory ending as it eventually turned out.

One Friday evening I suddenly felt that I needed a good session, and decided that I would indulge myself with what I called a ‘sweatbag’ session. Hot, sticky and very uncomfortable, so I would usually wear the most enveloping plastic and rubber clothing I could devise. I had a plentiful supply of rope in various lengths for almost any method of restraint. My place of restraint was to be the lounge room floor, which was comfortably carpeted. My path to freedom was a sharp knife on the floor of the kitchen at the back of the house. Once I had trussed myself up, I would have to wriggle my way out through the lounge door, down the hall, into the kitchen, and cut myself free. Laborious, but simple enough.

As soon as I got home from work I put into practice an idea I’d dreamed up that afternoon. I pulled out the various items of clothing I would need and put them on the sofa in the lounge. Then I sorted out the ropes and began. First I needed to put on my items of discomfort. On this occasion I’d decided to add a bit of extra humiliation to my session, so after removing all my clothes and laying down on the floor, I folded a large towelling square as a nappy, and pinned it on securely with four nappy pins. Fortunately my sister had had a baby six months before, so I had learned how to fold it correctly. On top of the nappy came a humiliating large pair of adult-sized thick baggy plastic baby pants I’d obtained from a sex shop. I felt a pang of pleasure as I drew the elasticated pants up my legs and around my waist, enveloping my crutch securely. The tight elastic at my waist and thighs would ensure that even if I had to wet myself (or worse), nothing would come out.

Standing up, I looked at the three girl’s hooded raincoats I had laid across the back of the sofa; a translucent plastic mac, a yellow PVC one, and a red rubberised cotton mackintosh. Worn one on top of the other, I knew that they would guarantee my discomfort. 

I picked up the translucent full-length plastic mac, slid my arms into the sleeves, and snapped shut the snap fasteners down the front. It felt cool against my bare skin at first, but I knew that all that was about to change. I tied the matching plastic belt around my waist in a neat non-slip double bow at the front. This was going to be a full on discomfort session, so that wasn’t the only layer of plastic I would be encased in. Picking up the safety yellow PVC raincoat, I put it on over the plastic mac, and closed the snap fasteners one by one. This was going to be hot.

 It was now time to silence myself so that I would be unable to call for help, and I had devised a method of achieving this in the most humiliating way. From the chair next to me I picked up a baby’s dummy that I had bought from a joke shop and converted for more practical use. This was no ordinary dummy. To begin with, it was very large. The three inch wide mouth cover was easily large enough to cover my mouth from below my nose to the bottom of my chin. On the inner side it was fitted with a large oval shaped silicone rubber bulb which filled my mouth completely. I had drilled four holes in the sides of the mouth cover, and threaded two long lengths of pink ribbon through them to secure the dummy in place.

 I opened my mouth and pushed the bulb of the dummy into it. The soft silicone rubber seemed to fill every space in my mouth, and pushed my tongue gently but firmly down. I placed the loops of ribbon behind my neck, and began to tighten them by pulling the ends of the ribbons threaded through the front of the dummy’s mouth cover and crossing them over. I then passed the ends round to the back of my head, crossed them over, and pulled them tight in earnest. As I did so, I could feel the rubber bulb penetrating deeper into my mouth and filling it with silicone rubber. I passed the ribbons round to the front again, and keeping them tight, continued to wind them around my head several more times until I finally tied them in a bow at the back of my neck. I tried calling out, and found that I could still just manage to make a muffled sound out of the corner of my mouth. Not quite good enough. I wanted to be properly silenced, so I took several lengths of two inch wide sticking plaster and applied them around the edges of the mouth cover, effectively sticking it down and sealing the gap. I then made an experimental attempt to shout out at the top of my voice, but this time all I could do was emit a faint babyish gurgle. Perfect. I pulled up the hood of the plastic mac, and tied it on securely with the tie tapes in a non-slip double bow under my chin. Then I put up the hood of the PVC raincoat on top, and buttoned it up securely under my chin. There was now no way that I would be able to get either of the hoods off once my hands were restrained.  

My envelopment now began in earnest. It was warm up time. I picked up the mackintosh from the sofa and looked at it in anticipation. It was identical in style to the rubberised macs that little girls used to wear in the 1950’s, and had been made to measure in a generous size for me by a mackintosh supplier. It was a double-breasted red mackintosh made of double texture rubberised cotton, with a buckle belt and an attached hood with both tie tapes and a button fastening under the chin. I put my arms into the smooth, rubberised sleeves and pulled the mackintosh on over my shoulders. Then, one by one I fastened the buttons up to my neck, and fastened the belt tightly round my waist. The sleeves came down as far as my fingers, and the hem hung down several inches below my knees. I began to look and feel more like a little girl. Next, I pulled up the hood and tied the fastening tapes in a tight non slip double bow. Then, using the additional button fastening, I buttoned it securely under my chin, and pulled the hood well forward. It was of a style that used to be popular with girl’s regulation school mackintosh hoods, with a square cut about 4 inches long running across the top at the back of the head. I stepped back and looked at myself in the mirror. 

With my face peeping out from under the mackintosh hood and the large dummy covering my mouth, I looked just like a little toddler, except for my bare legs. 
That was soon rectified with a pair of black shiny calf length girl’s fashion wellington boots. I picked one up and placed my right leg into it. Since discomfort was the idea, I had deliberately bought them two sizes too small for me, so as I pushed my foot into the bottom my toes became painfully squashed up. I heaved and grunted as I tried to squeeze my foot down into the constricted space, and suddenly the heel of my foot slipped down into position. My foot was now firmly and uncomfortably imprisoned in the black rubber boot. With the same difficulty, I put on the other boot, and winced slightly as I stood up. Now it was time to get myself tied up.

Sitting on the ground, I took a long piece of rope, and after doubling it I wound it several times around my ankles before running the two rope lengths between my ankles in opposite directions, cinching them tightly as I wound them around the rope between my ankles. I pulled the cinch tighter and tighter, and with the protection of the rubber boots I was able to secure my ankles tightly without discomfort. There was certainly no way that I would be able to pull my feet out of the tight rubber boots. I tied the rope ends together in a secure knot, leaving several feet of the doubled rope left over. I made a cinch loop in the end, which would be easy to close, but impossible to open once my hands were tied. No, my only means of escape would be the knife lying on the kitchen floor. After making the cinch loop I wound the rope several times around the cinch between my feet, shortening it until the loop was only a few inches from my ankles.

Next came my legs. I looped another doubled length of rope around them just above the knee a couple of times, and then ran the ends in a cinch through the middle before tying it off. I made sure that the final knot would be at the front of my legs so that there would be no way that I would be able to reach them with my hands tied behind my back. Taking another long length of rope, I doubled it and wound it several times around my chest and arms just above my elbows, put the ends through the loop and then pulled it tight. Then I tied it in a knot in front of my chest where I would be unable to reach it. With my upper arms now securely pinned to my body, my time of helplessness was fast approaching.

On the ground next to me was a prepared loop of rope which I had twisted a few times so that it formed six coils. The size of the loop would fit snugly around my wrists. I now laid down on my back with my legs bent under me so that I could almost touch my heels. I put the cinch loop attached to my ankles over my left wrist and placed the wide open loop up my left forearm. Then I took the wrist loop and put both hands through it together, with the palm of my right hand over the back of my left hand. With one wrist directly on top of the other, I now rotated my arms as if opening a pair of scissors, so that they now crossed at my wrists in the form of an X. As I did so, the coiled wrist loop tightened around them across the middle of the X. With my wrists held together by the wrist loop, I now manoeuvred the cinch loop connected to my ankles down my arm, over my hand, and into the centre of my crossed wrists. The cinch rope was now around my wrists at right angles to the wrist loop going across.

Now came the moment of truth. My heart thumping, I rolled over onto my front, and began to pull my ankles away from my bound wrists. As I pulled, the friction knot of the cinch loop soon began to creep up to my wrists as the loop grew smaller and smaller. With a final sharp tug of commitment, the knot of the cinch knot came hard up against my crossed and bound wrists, totally out of reach of my fingers. In effect, my wrists were now bound securely at right angles to each other in much the same way as two pieces of wood would be lashed together. With my hands tied in this way, there was no way that I could reach any of the knots, and my arms were now rigidly secured at right angles to each other.

I lay there quietly for a moment, enjoying the feeling of utter helplessness. I began to wriggle and squirm in a genuine effort to free myself, but with my hands unable to reach a single knot, there was no chance of that.

After about half an hour of fruitless struggling, I decided it was time to get free. The crawl along the hallway floor was going to be a long one. With a muffled grunt I suddenly found that I’d overdone the shortness of the cinch rope tying my wrists to my ankles, and that movement was going to be more difficult than I’d thought. I also suddenly realised that with my arms at right angles to each other, I would be unable to bring my fingers together, and would have real difficulty in cutting the ropes with the knife.

I began the laborious crawl out of the lounge room and out into the hall. Then came the long and increasingly painful journey down the length of the hall towards the kitchen. As I heaved and strained my way along at a snail’s pace, the plastic pants and macs, together with the thick rubber mackintosh on top and the rubber boots I had imprisoned myself in, began to take effect. I began to sweat, and the more I squirmed and writhed, the hotter I became. Well, I’d wanted discomfort, and now I’d got it with a vengeance. Somehow it no longer seemed quite such a good idea as the sweat began to pour down my face.

It must have taken me a full hour to reach the doorway of the kitchen, and by the time I got there I felt like a limp rag. Oh well, once I’d got the knife I’d soon be free. The knife? Where the hell was it? I looked across the kitchen floor and couldn’t see it anywhere. I slowly crawled further into the kitchen, but still couldn’t see it. It had to be there somewhere. For some reason I started to look up, and as I looked at the sink unit I suddenly remembered. Oh no! I’d forgotten to put the knife on the floor. In my impatient preparations I’d left it on the draining board just four feet above me, but it might has well have been on the moon. In a paroxysm of frustration, I began to heave and squirm against the ropes, but I’d done far too good a job for that to be of any help at all. 

Without thinking, I tried to yell at the top of my voice, but of course, I’d taken good care of that as well. The humiliating dummy kept me quieter than any baby.
After a few minutes of sweaty, impotent rage at my own stupidity, I tried to think rationally, but there was no way that I could see out of the situation. Here I was, helplessly and securely trussed up and gagged in the most humiliating situation, and there was nothing I could do about it. Then my heart missed a beat as I realised something. Sally was going to find me like this. Sally was my girlfriend, and knew nothing about either my penchant for plastic and rubber raincoats or my love of self-bondage. I groaned as I realised that there was also another problem. She wasn’t due round until Saturday afternoon, so if I couldn’t get free I was going to be stuck like this for the next 18 hours! At least she had a key to let herself in.

Almost in tears, I decided that the lounge room floor would be more comfortable than the hard kitchen floor, so with a groan of resignation I began my weary way back to the lounge. Another hour of hot, painfully slow crawling followed before I finally reached the lounge again. By the time I reached it, my hot plastic and rubber cocoon was soaking wet on the inside, and I was hardly able to move any more. The sweat ran down my face, and I felt exhausted as I breathed heavily through my nostrils. Fortunately, a cushion had fallen on the floor, and I was able to spend a long and sleepless night lying on my side using it as a pillow.
Being a summer evening, I hadn’t bothered to switch on the light when I’d started, so I had to lie there on the ground in the dark for hour after hour, occasionally trying to shift my position to be more comfortable. But discomfort was what I had planned, and discomfort was what I had to endure. Sleep was impossible.

After what seemed an eternity, it finally began to grow light, and I found that I had a growing urge to go to the toilet, which grew inexorably stronger and stronger. Despite my best efforts not to let go, nature eventually triumphed, and I wept tears of humiliation as I wet my nappy in true baby fashion. Wait until Sally discovered that!

The morning passed, and I heard the world coming to life around me. With a few hours left yet, I decided to make one last effort to get free. I began to heave and writhe in desperation. I sweated, squirmed and moaned as I tried to reach any of the knots with one of my hands. Not a chance, and after twenty minutes I gave up. No, I’d just have to take it on the chin. 

Early in the afternoon, my heart missed a beat as I heard the key in the lock of the front door and the sound of Sally’s voice. ‘Hi Tommy, it’s me. Where are you?’ The moment of truth had arrived. She came down the hall and into the lounge, and looked down at me. A look of amazement crossed her face, and then she slowly and deliberately sat down on the sofa and grinned. ‘Well well well’ she said, ‘And what do we have here? A cute little girl all dressed up in her mac and boots ready for the rain. God, you must be boiling in that lot. What fun!’ I looked up at her and yelled ‘Mmmmmmph! Mmmmm! Mmmmmmp!’ With a cool expression on her face Sally looked down at me and said ‘I assume that means please untie me?’

‘Mmmmmmmmm!’ I nodded vigorously. She grinned again, and as she crouched down I sighed with relief as I mistakenly thought she was going to release me. But she had other ideas. Instead of starting to untie me, she rolled me over onto my front and ran her hands tantalisingly over the tightly knotted ropes and chuckled. ‘Well now’ she said, ‘Since you like being tied up, I think I can improve on that.’ She smiled, and picking up a length of rope from the sofa, she doubled it, and ran it around my arms just above the elbow. Then she started to pull the loop tighter and tighter around them. I tried to protest, but the only sound to get past the silicone rubber dummy filling my mouth was ‘Mmmmmph! Mmmmmb!’ as slowly but surely my elbows were drawn closer together. Finally they were touching. With an efficiency that I didn’t know she possessed, Sally cinched my elbow rope and tied it off tightly, way beyond the reach of my fingers. And still she wasn’t finished. 

My heart sank as she picked up another length of rope, and folding it double, ran it round the cinch holding my ankles together. Then she passed the ends up between my bound hands and back down to my ankles. Threading it once more around the ankle cinch, she took the ends back up to the cinch securing my elbows. Passing the rope round the elbow cinch, she began to pull on it. Like a pulley system, my hands and feet were drawn closer and closer together until my back began to ache and the heels of my feet were finally touching my bottom.

Swiftly, Sally tied off the end of the rope to my elbow cinch rope. Now I was really stuck. ‘Mmmmmmm! Mmmmmp! Mnnnmmmg!’ I yelled, and desperately tried to wriggle. But I couldn’t even squirm, and the tight ropes which restrained me seemed to take on a personality of their own, almost as if they were enjoying it. 

Sitting down on the sofa again, Sally looked down at my helpless form and chuckled. She was obviously enjoying herself. ‘Well’ she said, ‘I must say you’re very good at tying yourself up, aren’t you?’ Suddenly the penny dropped. She knew! As if to answer my thoughts Sally stood up and folded her arms, completely in control. ‘You know’ she said, ‘I’ve known about this little activity of yours for the last three months, ever since I came across your magazines, ropes and other little toys in the cupboard. Very careless of you. I was wondering when you’d bring the subject up. I’m a bit miffed actually, because it shows that you didn’t think our relationship could stand it. Well it may surprise you to know that I’m a lot more broad-minded than you think, and I’ll be quite happy to oblige you with this little hobby of yours from time to time, but only on condition that you never do it without me being here. If I ever find you like this again, I’ll take advantage of the situation and make you wish you’d never been born. Now how long have you been there? Since last night?’

‘Mmmmm’ I nodded in the affirmative.

‘How uncomfortable for you’ she grinned, ‘Well just to teach you a lesson, you can stay like that until tonight. Then I’ll let you go and we can go for a meal. And then we can discuss some future fun and games in bed tonight.’ She walked across to the door, turned, and said  ‘Well, bye bye for now, I’ll be back in about six hours. All right?’

‘Mmmmmmmp!’ I gurgled. With one last giggle she left me wriggling like a helpless baby on the floor. But the future looked bright. There were going to be some fun times ahead.

Sally returned some hours later, and I have to say that my relief at finally being untied made me show my gratitude in no uncertain sexual terms. That night was certainly a night to remember, and I was delighted to find that Sally’s claim to be broad-minded was no exaggeration. As we lay in bed together, I thought it best to be completely open, and told her of my additional liking for rainwear as well as bondage. My honesty paid off, because she smiled as she said ‘Yes, I wondered about that the other day when you said that you liked my raincoat, and now I understand why. Well don’t worry about it, I know that PVC macs can be a bit of a turn on for both men and women, so there’s nothing for you to be ashamed of.’ I felt a wave of relief as I realised that she understood me so well.

‘By the way Sal’ I said, ‘Where the hell did you learn so much about tying someone up? You’re obviously an expert.’

‘Oh it was easy. My ex boyfriend Bill was into bondage in quite a big way, and being slightly sadistic I was happy to oblige him. I find having a man helplessly within my power quite a turn on, so we were both satisfied. It’s rather nice to find that you seem to have very similar tastes to him, so that suits me just fine.’ She looked at me thoughtfully for a moment, and then said ‘Look, why don’t we explore this a little? You tell me more about just what turns you on, and I’ll tell you what I like, and then, if it’s OK, we might get together for some bondage fun and games. But with you as the victim, of course.’ I couldn’t believe my luck, and so we agreed to meet for an evening out the following Saturday.

 Over the next few weeks we familiarised ourselves with each other’s personal preferences, and gradually we came to enjoy each other’s company more and more. Sometimes an evening would go by without either of us even mentioning the subject of bondage. Then one evening she invited me round to her place for dinner, and she’d cooked a lovely meal. We’d both had a few glasses of wine, and as we sat on the sofa together afterwards she looked at me and smiled. 

‘Well Tommy’ she said, ‘I think the time has come.’

 ‘Mmmm?’ I said, feeling very relaxed, ‘What time?’

 ‘Time for us to have that little session together.’ I immediately sat up and looked at her. ‘Really?’ I said, ‘You’re sure?’

 ‘Yes, I’m sure. But not tonight, we’re both too tired. Why don’t you come round next Saturday afternoon, and we’ll take it from there. But remember there’s just one condition.’

 ‘What’s that?’

 ‘I get to tie you up. I want to be the one in charge, rather than the other way round. And bring all your bondage gear with you. From what I saw of it the other day, that should be enough to immobilise you very nicely.’

 Delighted, I replied ‘Fine, I’ll bring everything we need. But I also have one condition of my own.’

 ‘Oh yes? And what’s that?’

 ‘Well as you know, I also love wearing girl’s raincoats, so I want to be dressed in two or three of your macs and trussed up in such a way as to be as uncomfortable as possible.’ Sally looked at me and gave me a wry grin. ‘My pleasure’ she smiled, ‘I’m sure I can arrange something. Don’t forget, I said that I’m slightly sadistic. And by the way, I really am a bondage expert, so you’ll have no chance of getting free, believe me.’

 ‘Perfect, just what I wanted.’

 ‘All right’ chuckled Sally, ‘That suits us both then, doesn’t it?’ 

We continued discussing the finer details of our session to come for the next few hours until it was time for me to go home, and I walked home with a keen sense of anticipation.

 The days passed impatiently for me, but at last the following Saturday afternoon came, and two o’clock found me ringing Sally’s door bell with my bag of goodies in my hand. The door opened, and there she was, dressed in a pair of jeans and a low cut blouse. She looked eager to begin.

 I went in and we sat down for a cup of tea first. That done, she said ‘OK Tommy, bring your bag with you and we’ll get started.’ We went through into a small spare bedroom, and she took my bag and emptied it out onto the single bed, which had been covered with a thick plastic sheet. ‘Oh yes’ she smiled, ‘That lot should do very nicely I think. Now get undressed while I sort these things out.’

 ‘What, take off everything?’ I said. ‘Everything’ grinned Sally, ‘And remember, I want total co-operation from you with no complaints. Well, not until I’ve got you tied up, anyway. Then you can try and complain and struggle as much as you like, but it won’t do you any good I promise you. Now get undressed.’ I removed all my clothes, wondering just what she had in store, and stood there naked while she finished laying out all the ropes and straps neatly, ready for use. Finally she was ready.

 ‘Now then’ she said, ‘Just to get this straight. You want to be dressed in my macs, and trussed up so as to be as hot, uncomfortable and helpless as possible. Correct?’

 ‘Correct’ I said, my heart thumping.

 ‘Very well’ she grinned ‘But remember, you asked for it. I’m going to give you what I call my sweatbag treatment. My last boyfriend Bill did it to me once, and I can guarantee its discomfort. Right, let’s get started.’ Putting her arm around me, she took me across to the foot of the bed, and picked up a pair of oversized thick plastic baby pants, made to fit an adult. She held them out for me to step into, and as she pulled them up my legs and arranged the firm elastic neatly around my waist and thighs, she grinned and said ‘I don’t see why you shouldn’t be humiliated as well as uncomfortable. Now come over here.’ She took me by the hand and led me over to the wardrobe. Hanging on the door were three full-length girl’s mackintoshes on their hangers which were obviously intended for me. One was her red PVC raincoat, one was an old-fashioned 1950’s style red rubberised cotton mackintosh, and the third one was a translucent plastic mac. All had hoods, and I could already anticipate just how hot it was going to get if I wore all three on top of each other. Well, this was what I’d asked for, so it was too late to complain now.

 Sally took the plastic mac down from its hanger, and held it open for me to put on. I slid my arms into the cool smooth plastic sleeves, and standing in front of me, she fastened the press studs at the front up to my neck. Then, taking the matching tie belt, she passed it around my waist and tied it in a non-slip double bow at the front. The plastic mac felt cool for a few moments, but soon began to rapidly warm up. ‘Oh by the way’ she said, ‘I’ve sealed the underarm ventilation holes with tape. I don’t call this the sweatbag treatment for nothing. Now for the next one.’

 She took down the red rubberised cotton mackintosh, and like the plastic mac, held it up while I obediently put my arms into the sleeves. She fastened the buttons down the front, buckled up the belt, and secured the end with a button fastening that held it firmly in place around my waist. The heavyweight double texture rubberised cotton enveloped me both physically and by its aroma. ‘Good’ said Sally, ‘Now for number three.’

 Removing her red PVC raincoat from its hanger, she held it up for me as I once again put my arms into the sleeves, and she pulled the raincoat on over my shoulders. My heart began to thump with anticipation as she closed each press stud down the front with a click of finality. After again fastening the coat up to my neck, she pulled the belt tight around my waist, and buckled it securely.

 Standing back to inspect me, Sally grinned and said ‘There, how does that feel?’

 ‘Well, warm’ I replied, ‘But not all that hot yet.’

‘Don’t worry’ she chuckled, ‘You will be, believe me. Now let’s do something about your legs, shall we?’ She reached into the wardrobe and drew out a pair of knee high shiny black rubber wellington boots. They were not the normal clumsy boots worn for gardening purposes, but stylish fashion wellingtons with a slightly high heel. She put the right boot down in front of me, and I put my leg into it. The boot closed firmly around my calf, and I began to push my foot down into the boot. It was a very tight fit, and I had to push as hard as I could to force my heel down into the bottom. At last, with a sudden movement, my heel slipped in past the narrow ankle part of the boot, encasing my foot tightly in the thick rubber. Now it was time for the other one. Once again, with much pushing down with all my weight, I finally managed to get my left leg into the other boot.

The boots were about two sizes too small for me, and as my toes became tightly squashed up in the unyielding confines of the rubber boots I began to realise that discomfort was certainly going to be the order of the day. I put my weight on my feet and winced. Sally looked at me and grinned. ‘Uncomfortable enough for you?’ she chuckled. ‘Well we’ve hardly started yet, believe me!’ Still smiling, she picked up a two inch wide roll of sticking plaster and said ‘Right then. Now turn around and put the palms of your hands together behind your back.’ 

I put my hands together behind me, and Sally began to wind the zinc oxide adhesive sticking plaster around my hands until they were firmly strapped together in a single useless lump. ‘There’ she said with a grin, ‘That’ll keep you little handy pandys out of mischief, won’t it? Now, let’s see how you like being trussed up.’ Taking a length of rope, Sally folded it double and wound it several times around my wrists. She passed the two ends of the rope through the loop, pulled it tight, and then wound the doubled rope around between my wrists, cinching the loops around my wrists like a pair of handcuffs. She finished off the cinch in a tight reef knot, and let the remaining length of doubled rope trail on the floor. ‘Right’ she said, ‘Now sit on the edge of the bed.’

I sat down, and taking another piece of rope, Sally secured my ankles tightly together in the same way as my wrists. Knowing that my legs were protected by the thick rubber boots, she made sure that my ankles were very tightly tied and cinched together. That done, she tied my legs securely together just above my knees, effectively holding my legs immovably together.

Satisfied with her progress so far, Sally grinned and said ‘Now then. Knowing that you’re almost certainly going to start complaining, and will probably whine to be untied, I’m going to make sure that you won’t be a noisy nuisance.’ Picking up the roll of sticking plaster, she carefully cut about a dozen lengths about a foot long that she placed in a neat row along the head of the bed. Then she went across to a drawer and took out a small, slightly inflated pink balloon. Coming back and standing over me she said ‘Right, open your mouth, nice and wide.’ I knew that being gagged would mean my complete subservience to her every whim, but somehow I just couldn’t resist it. 

I obediently opened my mouth, and she pushed the balloon in. It felt strange. Although the balloon had looked small, it in fact filled my mouth completely, effectively holding down my tongue. ‘Now close your lips and clench your jaws together’ she said. I brought my jaws and lips together, and taking the first piece of tape, Sally placed it horizontally across my mouth and pressed it firmly into place. Then, taking two more lengths, she crossed them diagonally over the other piece. Then she placed another piece under my jaw, and pulling it up hard and around my cheeks she stuck it in place, holding my jaws firmly shut.
Piece after piece of tape were now stuck across my mouth and jaws, until eventually my entire lower face had disappeared under several layers of sticking plaster. Pleased with her handiwork, Sally smiled and said ‘There, that’ll keep you quiet. Try yelling as loud as you can.’ I tried to oblige, and attempted to yell several times at the top of my voice, but the balloon and sticky tape gag was fiendishly effective. Despite my best efforts, all that could be heard was a quiet muffled ‘Mmmmmm!’

‘Excellent’ chuckled Sally, ‘Yes, that’ll certainly keep you quiet, won’t it?. Now, let’s finish wrapping you up.’ She leaned over me, and pulled the hood of the inner plastic mac up over my head. Then she drew the tie tapes together under my chin and tied them in a secure double bow. On top of that she pulled up the hood of the rubberised cotton mackintosh and buttoned it up under my chin. Finally she pulled up the shiny red PVC raincoat hood, and tied it on tightly under my chin with the tie tapes. For extra security she also buttoned shut the storm flap under my chin before gaving all three hoods a final tug forward. She stood back and chuckled as she said ‘Don’t you look sweet! You look just like a little girl. Now lie down on the bed, face down.’

I did as I was told, and taking another piece of rope, Sally doubled it and looped it around my arms just above the elbow. Then she started to pull the loop closed, which forced my elbows closer and closer together. I’m a fairly lithe person, and in a short while my elbows were touching. Just as she had secured my wrists and ankles, she cinched the loop securely and tied off the ends. Now the real discomfort began.

‘Right’ she said, ‘Bend your legs up behind you.’ She took hold of my feet and bent my legs at the knee until my heels were nearly touching my bottom. Taking the left over length of rope securing my wrists, she ran it down around the cinch between my ankles, and back up around the cinch between my elbows. Then she began to pull the end of the rope downwards towards my feet.

The effect of this was like a pulley, and as she pulled on the rope, my feet and hands were forced closer and closer together until my heels were resting on my bottom and nearly touching my bound hands. Satisfied at how helpless I was becoming, Sally expertly wound the end of the rope around the cinch between my elbows and tied it off securely. I could barely move. But she hadn’t finished yet. ‘Now’ she said, ‘I want to make sure you can’t fall off the bed. We don’t want you hurting yourself, do we?’ She chuckled as she set about my complete immobilisation. Taking another piece of rope, she doubled it and looped it around my elbow cinch. Then she ran one half of the doubled rope across and around the side of the bed frame, pulled it taught, and tied it off. Taking the other half of the rope she did the same thing on the other side. As she pulled this one tight and tied it off, it ensured that there was now no way that I could move sideways at all, and was now firmly held face down, with no chance of rolling onto my side to ease my discomfort.

But she still wasn’t finished yet. Tying the end of another rope to the top end of the bed, she ran the rope down under my shoulder and under one armpit, over my back and under my other armpit. Then she pulled the end back up to the top of the bed, pulled it tight, and tied it off there. My legs were next. She tied the end of another rope to the bottom end of the bed, brought the rope up the bed to my knees, passed it around my bent knees, and back down to the foot of the bed. Then she pulled it tight and secured the end to the foot of the bed. I groaned into my gag as my discomfort now began in earnest. My back was beginning to ache, but try as I might, I couldn’t move an inch in any direction to ease it.

Seeing my vain efforts to move, Sally grinned. ‘There we are’ she chuckled, ‘Uncomfortable enough for you?’ I vigorously nodded my head in the affirmative and said ‘Mmmmmp!’ She smiled, and shaking her head in the negative said ‘Oh no, not quite, I think. We just need the finishing touch.’ Picking up two more pieces of rope, she tied each one to the side of the bed, one on my right and one on my left, level with my waist. Then she passed the end of each one under my waist, crossed them over, and out the opposite side. She now brought the ends up together at the back of my waist, and pulled them tight. Finally, she wound the two ends around my already bound arms before tying them securely to the cinch between my elbows.

I was now trussed up as securely and helplessly as a fly wrapped up by a spider. Satisfied at last, Sally stepped back to inspect her handiwork. ‘There we are’ she grinned, ‘You wanted to be trussed up in my raincoats as uncomfortably as possible, and here you are. Now there’s just one more thing to do that I guarantee will make the next few hours hot and sticky for you.’ Reaching under the bed, she drew out an electric fan heater. Putting it on a chair about six feet to one side of me, she pointed it carefully at me, and plugging it into a wall socket, switched it on. In a few seconds I could feel a blast of hot air running over me. And even that wasn’t quite enough for her. She went to an electric fire built into the wall a few feet on the other side of me, and switched on all three bars.
She looked down at me and grinned. ‘Right’ she said, ‘Now you can try and escape if you like. You can yell as much as you want because no one’s going to hear you. I’ll pop in from time to time just to see how you’re getting on, but I can promise you, you’re going to be there for quite a few hours. Have fun, and don’t get up to any mischief will you? Bye bye little mackintosh girl, see you.’ With a chuckle and a cheery little wave, she went out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Left to my own devices, I began exploring my restraints by heaving and squirming in the forlorn hope of at least loosening them a little. But I soon began to realise that there was no hope of that. As my frustration grew I began to struggle more violently, and couldn’t help but yell into my gag, but the only sound I could produce was a faint gurgle. No, I’d asked for it and I’d got it. I was unable to move even the tiniest fraction, and lay there, silenced and immobilised by expert hands. Sally had learnt her bondage skills well.

It being such a small room, the temperature rose rapidly as the two heaters did their job, and within a few minutes I was beginning to perspire freely. Inside the three raincoats, my trapped body heat became worse and worse, and I was soon drenched in perspiration. I blinked as it poured down my face, stinging my eyes. Now I was beginning to regret putting fantasy into reality, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. The hotter I became, the more I struggled to get free, and the more I struggled, the hotter I became. It was a vicious circle.

After about an hour, Sally came into the room and bent down to look in my face. She grinned as she said playfully with mock concern ‘Ooh my goodness, you’re all red aren’t you? Enjoying yourself? Warm enough for you?’

‘Mmmmmmph! Mmmmmm! Mmmmmmn!’ I yelled, wriggling and writhing helplessly. I moaned and tried to say ‘Please untie me,’ but all that came out was a garbled ‘Plnnnnnummmpee!’ Sally straightened up with her hands on her hips and laughed. ‘Untie you? Not likely, I’m enjoying this far too much. Oh no, I’ve hardly started yet. I’ll see you a little later, so just lie there and enjoy your sauna.’ She went out of the room again, and left me moaning in humiliated frustration as I vainly squirmed and writhed against my restraints. Inside the three raincoats I was by now boiling hot and soaked in sweat, and I could feel my hot, wet legs and feet squelching inside the thick rubber boots. Now I realised why Sally had laid a plastic sheet on the bed, as rivulets of perspiration began to form in small pools under me. Gradually my struggles lessened as I grew more and more exhausted in my rubber and plastic sauna, and eventually I actually started to doze off into a sort of torpor. 

After what seemed an eternity I was suddenly woken with a start by a cold wet flannel being wiped across my face. ‘All right’ said Sally, as she refreshed me, ‘I think that’s enough. You’ve been there for four hours, and besides, it’s no fun if you’re going to fall asleep. I think we’ll call it a day for this time, but remember, next time it’ll be for much longer!’

Switching off the heaters, she opened the window and began to untie me and unwrap my hands, and as I began to move my aching arms and legs, I groaned with pleasure. Gradually the numbness caused by the ropes began to recede, and finally I was able to sit up on the edge of the bed. Sally unfastened each raincoat hood in turn, and lowered it. As the hood of the innermost plastic mac was drawn off my head I gave a sigh of relief as the cool air ran over my face. ‘All right then’ said Sally, ‘You can do the rest yourself. Take off those raincoats and leave them in the bath, and I’ll rinse them out and hang them up to dry. In the meantime you can take a shower and freshen up.’

She went out of the room while I went across to the wardrobe mirror and painfully removed the strips of sticking plaster from my face. With a sigh of utter relief I removed the balloon from my mouth and moved my aching jaw. Then came the sheer pleasure of removing each raincoat in turn until I stood there naked, enjoying the cool air wafting across my body from the window. I sat down to remove the rubber boots, but soon found that they were too tight for me to remove without help. I called Sally, and she came into the room and grinned. ‘Bit tight are they?’ she chuckled, ‘All right, hang on.’ She took a firm grip on the boots, but even so, it took a lot of hard pulling before she was able to get them off.

I wearily made my way to the bathroom carrying the three raincoats, and had a blissful cool shower before I dried myself, left the raincoats in the bath, and made my way back to the bedroom to dress myself. After that I felt wonderfully refreshed, as if I really had had a sauna, and in a way, I suppose I had.
In the meantime, Sally had prepared a meal for us, and as we sat down to eat, she said ‘Well, how was that? Up to expectations?’

‘Was it ever!’ I said, ‘That was unreal. I’ve got to hand it to you, you sure know the ropes, so to speak.’ Sally laughed. ‘Yes, well Bill was a very good teacher. Now then’ she said, looking me in the eye, ‘Do you think you could stand another session next week end, something a little bit more stringent?’

‘More stringent?‘ I said, ‘Strewth.’

‘Oh believe me, I’ve got lots of tricks up my sleeve if you’re game enough to try them. I’ve got something in mind that will really turn you on, and it might just involve me using you for my own pleasure. You’ll be my helpless plaything.’

I liked the way she was heading, and with all memory of my recent discomfort fading already, I eagerly agreed. ‘All right then’ smiled Sally, ‘That’s a date.’
And so our friendship grew in a mutually satisfying way. I liked being tied up, and Sally enjoyed her dominant position, so we were both pleased. A couple of years later we were married, and the longer we remained together, the more we came to understand each other’s needs, and were able to fulfil them.

Well, I think I’ll finish here. Sally’s upstairs waiting for me with what she calls the ‘ultimate in turn ons’, so I wonder what she has in mind? Oh well, I’d better go up and find out, hadn’t I?



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