Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

Penny and her BABI

by Bob Salinas

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© Copyright 2007 - Bob Salinas - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbm; cd; rope; cuffs; harness; susp; cbt; nipple; barn; toys: mast; cons; X

I’m Penny … no, I’m Hank. I’m 185 pounds of ‘girlie man’ – a cross-dresser. I’m 6’1” tall and weigh 185 pounds, with a reasonably masculine shape except for a disproportionate amount of that weight concentrated in my boobs. When ‘the urge’ comes over me and I transform myself from Hank into Penny, the result is pretty nice if somewhat large- I mean, even for working farm girls my size is a bit much.

By the time I’m Penny, I have shoulder-length brown hair and a reasonably feminine face over a modest bust (40B), a medium waist and hips, and a pretty damn nice set of legs except they’re too muscular. I’m 19 and live with my aunt and uncle on a farm in Indiana; I’ve been around the block a couple of times, but me being committed to wearing girls’ clothes, I don’t get out much (and also I don’t get much, either). That being the sad case, I’ve learned to satisfy my itches myself. Anyway, this is the story of one such ‘scratching session’.

I started out two days ahead of time by preparing my BABI – not a child but a homemade self-bondage release device; it’s an acronym for a Big Ass Block of Ice. Actually, it’s a foot-long piece of fence pipe three inches in diameter and threaded at both ends so caps can be screwed on – it looks pretty much like a pipe bomb, but of course I would never have anything to do with such a thing.

Each end cap has a hole drilled in it to pass a half-inch rope; the rope coming into one end is knotted solidly so it can’t slip out, while at the other end, the rope slides through to where it’s frozen solidly inside a block of ice which pretty much fills the BABI. When the ice melts, the rope will be pulled out of the melting ice and BABI by the weight of whatever-it-is. The general idea here is that I can hang something pretty darn heavy from a rope and the BABI; it takes more than an hour, sometimes two, for enough of the ice to melt and drop the whatever-it-is.

I start my preparations with an empty BABI. One cap had the rope knotted inside so tightly it was never ever going to come untied; I left that one off for now. The other one was screwed tightly onto BABI, and I pushed enough rope through the cap to pretty much fill the inside of the pipe. Then I poured water into BABI, just about filling it, after I put tape around the gap between the hole and the rope to prevent the water from leaking out. Then I propped BABI into a corner of the freezer in the basement and sat down to watch it freeze. No, I didn’t … that would be stupid. I just went off to do my usual dumb life things for a couple of days.

Anyway, I had started planning to ‘scratch my itch’ on Thursday morning, and by Saturday afternoon when I started out to ‘take care of miscellaneous chores’ I was pretty darn eager – make that horny!

I went downstairs to the freezer and withdrew my BABI. The rope which went in through the one end cap was now firmly encased in a serious slug of ice. I pulled off the tape, knocked off the loose ice, and screwed the other cap onto BABI. Finally, I threw a backpack containing BABI and a few other items of self-pleasure in the pickup and headed off for a mostly-unused barn a couple of miles away.

(Most barns are located right next to the house because that’s where all the work goes on. My uncle had acquired this one in a ‘farm merger’ because the house burned down and he just hadn’t gotten around to doing anything with it yet.)

I drove out to the barn, opened it up, parked the truck inside, and locked up again; I would have the place to myself for the rest of the day. The barn used to get the occasional young visitor in the past - I got laid there my first time four years ago - but it seems that teenagers nowadays either get a hotel room or go home and their parents ignore the noises. What’s this world coming to?

The barn was pretty typical- about 30’ by 50’, and maybe 25’ high at the peak. It was basically a big hollow shell except for a loft at one end which was mainly used for hay storage back when the previous owners kept cattle. Right now there was a foot or so of loose hay in the loft, except for a medium-sized area I’d swept clear for my games.

More important was the traveling crane arrangement for which I had invented some new uses. Right under the peak of the barn was the expected big beam, and this one supported a manual hoist thing. This was mainly a big compound pulley which enabled me to lift a big ‘whatever’ with comparative ease and move it the length of the barn, or out either of the two doors high in the ends of the barn.

My first task was to hook the BABI to a rope that hung through a pulley at the upper door at one end of the barn, and the BABI to a stack of half a dozen bales of hay- about three hundred pounds total. (I suppose I could have used a Lamborghini engine block, but when you’re a cross-dresser on a farm, you use what happens to be handy, and in Kendallville hay happens to be more common than Lamborghini engine blocks.) Then I pretty much wore myself out hoisting the bales all the way up to the pulley.

I tied a rope to the pulley’s lock mechanism so I’d be able to drop the bales when I wanted, and tied the other end of the rope holding the bale to the traveling hoist machinery. In a little bit, when I pulled on the rope attached to the pulley’s lock, it would drop the hay, which would pull the traveling hoist (and me) out to the middle of the open area of the barn (what they call the bay). Next, I went to the other end of the barn and tied a smaller batch of hay – two bales, say a hundred pounds - to a similar rope which would pull the traveling hoist back when BABI released the bigger pile of hay.

That done, I inspected my work and then went inside to get ready for some serious game playing! I peeled out of my work clothes. I let the breeze through the barn cool off naked Hank as I enjoyed a beer- building up my nerve in the process.

Refreshed and ready, I went to the backpack for a few devices I would need. First was a well-used slightly-too-large butt plug (the best size, isn’t it?). I set the plug down on the floor of the loft and squatted down over it. It’s a little game with me – I maneuvered over it until I felt its tip brush my asshole, and then wiggled myself down until I felt it pressing up into me. The last half was the hardest. No hands (I forced myself to keep my hands high on my back like they were cuffed there), I eased myself down until I was impaled on the plug. I actually had to sit down on the floor (okay, I finally had to put my hands on the floor, but I never touched the butt plug) before I finally felt the widest part of the plug being forced up past my asshole. When my sphincter finally slipped down around the narrow neck of the plug and its full thick length finally thrust too far up into my intestines, it really hurt! But I knew the burning would ease … after a while!

Now on to setting the stage, which for me is ‘getting dressed up’: I reached into the backpack for Penny’s lacy black bikini panties and slipped them up my legs and over my ass. My balls hung out of the narrow crotch and my fat cock leaned heavily against the front of the dainty garment. The back of the skimpy little garment half disappeared onto the crack of my ass, leaving my cheeks mostly exposed.

Next, I wrapped a six-garter belt around my waist and slipped a pair of black nylon stockings (Big Mama brand from K-Mart) up my legs. I felt the butt plug working at my innards as I bent to smooth the stockings and then fasten them to the garter tabs of the garter belt. Ohhh … I love the way the air caresses my thighs between the stockings and my panties!

Next, I firmly strapped a pair of pumps with 3” heels to my feet. Ahh! Just the awkwardness of moving around the loft in the too-tall heels was exciting, but following up by locking a two-foot spreader bar between my ankles almost convinced me to drop my panties and jack off. Almost, but not quite.

Now one more item of kinkiness – a homemade ball stretcher, an inch-and-a-half-wide leather strap. I secured the strap snugly around my ball sack, pressing my balls firmly down to the bottom of their sack. Not comfortable – it wasn’t supposed to be – but I was about to make it worse.

I pulled out a lead weight, fastened to a light chain with a spring clip on its end. I fastened the clip to a D-ring on the ball stretcher. The chain hung from my balls and lay on the floor; I’ll leave the details for later.

Out of my ‘overnight case’ came a favorite black pushup bra from Frederick’s. I wrapped it around my waist, hooked its many back hooks, and twisted it around to slip my arms under the shoulder straps. After a bit of tugging, the bra firmly around my chest (most women want a bra they can forget – I want one I won’t!), the bra cups gently cupped my breasts and gave me a nice cleavage.

Penny had modified this bra by cutting a narrow tall diamond shape into the front of each cup to expose her nipples (the delightful slut!). The backpack suitcase provided a pair of clover clamps (Spartacus’ ‘Endurance’ clamps) which reached through the cutouts for my tender flesh. I had added another but smaller lead weight that hung from the chain connecting the clamps; the general idea here was that the weight would swing, twisting at my nipples while making them grip even tighter. I positioned them so they just grabbed the ends of my nipples, maximizing the pressure. My nipples knew what was coming and fairly leaped between the jaws.

I was beginning to feel like Penny, with Hank just a memory. Awkwardly, and excited to the max, I made my way back to the backpack and picked up a mirror and my makeup kit. Hanging the mirror from a handy nail, I continued with the transformation of Hank into Penny. A wig, some blusher, too much mascara, and a brazen coat of lipstick - In twenty minutes or so, I really was Penny, although she was a maybe a little bit more ‘tarty’ that I usually see around Kendallville.

Almost done now – I picked up a body harness I’d put together from stuff they used to use on horses. One big piece of leather strapped around my chest above my breasts, one just below them, one strap went around my waist, and two others went around my thighs just below my ass cheeks. All of these were linked together by other straps which met at a massive D-ring between my breasts. I was still free to release myself and to walk around, but I felt like a pro bondage model! Maybe some time I’ll modify this harness into a male chastity belt by adding a ‘saddle strap’ and a sheath tube to imprison my cock, but for now I want to get off after I get loose!

I grabbed a pair of handcuffs and locked one on my right wrist, leaving the other one dangling as I hooked the D-ring to the traveling hoist. Checking to make sure everything was where it ought to be, I grabbed the chain from the hoist and pulled in on it.

CLACK-CLACK-CLACK – the straps pulled even tighter around my body. My cock strained against its fabric bonds.

CLACK-CLACK-CLACK – the harness took up my weight, parting my ass cheeks and lifting them. My breasts were lifted and bulged out by the straps.

CLACK-CLACK-CLACK – my feet came clear of the floor, and I was hanging from the harness. The butt plug was jammed just a little bit too far up my ass, filling it just a little too full, but it was enough to bear for this game. At least I was pretty sure I could take it.

With one last look around, I grabbed a rope in one hand and locked the second cuff around my wrist, locking my arms behind my back. Then I gathered the rope in my hand and pulled. Outside, the big pile of hay descended quickly to the ground, in the process jerking the traveling hoist toward the center of the bay and hauling the smaller stack of hay into the air.

I lurched off the edge of the loft, maybe ten feet in the air, as the hoist pulled me out into the bay. The chain fastened to my ball stretcher jerked the lead weight off the edge of the loft, and it plunged downward until the chain pulled tight. The lead weight was still three feet off the floor, and for a bit I thought it was going to pull my balls down there with it! I screamed with the pain – what the hell, there was nobody to hear me.

I swung back and forth for a long time before my situation stabilized. My imagination jumped into gear.

There she hung, the high school queen who had been seized by the football studs for show-and-tell. They jeered at her from below as they watched her protesting her exposure, naked and bound and helplessly squirming. Her helpless attempts to cover her body merely added to their enjoyment of her struggles. She strained to close her legs, but the effort only caused her pussy lips to gape at the studs who longed to penetrate her. I squirmed helplessly, finding that the more I squirmed the more the clover clamps tortured my nipples, just like I anticipated. I squirmed even more!

The quarterback was stroking an incredible erection, his huge fist surrounding my panties. My humiliation knew no bounds, and I sobbed out my agony as my pussy throbbed. I wanted to break free and either run and hide or beg desperately for my freedom and my virtue – I didn’t know which.

My delicious degradation continued for what seemed like hours. I struggled to get loose, although I knew it was hopeless. (It was probably just as well, since I had arranged ten feet of air between me and a hard-packed dirt floor!) The more I struggled, the more the lead weights tormented my balls and my nipples. I wished I had listened to my common sense when I thought about how much was too much weight.

Finally, soundlessly, the BABI released the mass of hay, which was down on the ground holding the traveling hoist out in the bay. The second pile of hay now sank to the ground, hauling me back to the loft.

I’d planned the next few moments in excruciating detail. I fumbled for the keys, hanging behind me on a cord, and quickly released my wrists from the cuffs. Dropping the cuffs and the keys to the floor, I grabbed the hoist and lowered myself to my knees. Looking down through my captured cleavage, I saw my breasts jiggle liquidly with the impact of my knees on the floor.

Without releasing my harness, I reached back to push my panties down, freeing my cock. I slapped my hands closed around my iron-hard cock, feeling the fat head bulge against my palms. No dragging it out here – I wanted OFF!

My balls had been anticipating this moment for an hour. In an automatic reaction, the muscles tried to pull them up against my crotch, the better to access my sperm bank and ejaculate. My balls tried to rise but encountered the ball stretcher. Agghhh… A beat or two later, I felt the burning in the head of my cock as my balls blasted the hot cum down the length of my cock. I bellowed in pleasure!



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