Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

The Porch Swing

by Jo

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© Copyright 2013 - Jo - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; M+/f; rope; bond; sbf; straps; rope; cuffs; gag; nipple; toys; insert; outdoors; stuck; cons/reluct; X

Meg turned on the headlights. The temperature readout on the dash read 28 degrees. Not all that cold. A bit below freezing. Cold enough to justify the big coat. As the sky darkened and the temperature dropped Meg's anticipation grew, grew until, by the time she pulled into the driveway, she was downright squirmy.

She contemplated a shower to warm her first, but she knew that soapy fingers would find themselves you know where and that would put the kibosh on her plans. So she gathered her things and got undressed. She took a minute for a quick pee and to splash some water on her face. The face that looked back at her still looked odd. She had broken her nose when she was a kid and it always had a bit of a twist to the right. Now it was straighter and smaller with a bit of an upturn at the tip. The injections gave her lips a full, pouty look that she liked. All in all it was a bonus well-spent. She had even shorn her long chestnut hair. Her new short do gave her a perky look. She looked at her boobs and considered having them done for the thousandth time. Not out of vanity. It was that they were too big and her bra straps dug into her shoulders. She hefted one.

"Patience guys. Maybe Wilkins will come up with another bonus next year."

Meg stepped into the bedroom. Everything was laid out: straps, cuffs, rope, toys. She picked up the egg vibrator, swapped in fresh batteries, lithiums. They would last for hours, not that she planned to spend more than an hour or so. She wrapped the rope around her waist, cinched it at the small of her back, drew the ends up between her legs. She pushed the egg into her pussy, pushed until her finger was almost buried as well, then she split the ropes, spread her pussy lips and settled the ropes between them, trapping the electric cord as well as the egg. She picked up the second vibe, knotted the chord around it, settled it on her mound. She knotted the ends at her waist. She slipped the battery box through the rope and let it dangle on her belly.

She wadded up the large foam ball and squished it into her mouth. She sealed it in place with three strips of wide, black tape. She wound the wide fluffy scarf across her face, knotted it behind her head, pulled on the knit cap. She tugged on a pair of socks and her warm, fuzzy boots. Then she picked up a strap, smelled it. She loved the smell of leather. She had several pieces of leather clothing, her favorite being the long leather coat she wore in the fall. But this was winter and the puffy coat would have to do.

Meg wrapped the strap around her thighs, just above her knees. She picked up the nipple chain, opened the loops, pushed and tugged her nipples through then cinched them snug, just on the painful side of uncomfortable. She took another strap and wrapped it around her chest above her boobs. She added a second strap, below her boobs this time, cinched it also then she struggled into the coat, managed to drape it over her shoulders, managed to engage the zipper and pull it mostly up. The big, padded coat stretched from her neck to her ankles, looking for all the world like one of those mummy-style sleeping bags, but with arms. She hobbled to the door.

Meg glanced at the table. The handcuff key was there, of course. She made some adjustments to the straps tightening them so that her arms were mostly pinned to her sides. She had just enough movement of her hands to bend and open the door. She stuck a toe in the gap, then finished zipping the coat, reached down and turned the vibrators on, adjusted the knobs, slipped her hands behind her back and cuffed her wrists.

She was shivering with anticipation when she crossed the threshold and the door slid slowly closed. It never shut properly, never quite latched. She couldn't remember how many days she'd come home to find the door slightly ajar. And she'd vowed to get it fixed. Her brother offered, but never seemed to find the time. Yet in this case a not quite shut door was a good thing.

Meg shuffled over to the wide, porch swing, managed to sit on it without flopping down too hard. It was dark now. The street light had been burned out since she couldn't remember when, so she sat in a pool of black. There was little traffic, the occasional dog walker or jogger, but if they saw her on the porch they didn't acknowledge her. The vibrators buzzed softly between her legs. Meg's mind wandered as it always did.

She had been nine the first time she had been tied up. She had had her first crush, Gregory, who was two years older, the same age as Daniel, her older brother. Her younger brother, Michael, was a year behind. She was the middle kid and the girl. And they wanted nothing to do with her. But one day things changed and she and Gregory started "dating," hanging out at school, innocent stuff. But for Meg it was the stuff of dreams, fantasies. The effect did not go unnoticed by her brothers who teased her relentlessly.

One day they came to her and told her they had found something cool in the woods behind the house. It was a different age, a different place. Kids actually played, entertained themselves, explored their world. As long as they were home when the street lights came on it was fine.

Her brothers led her down by the river to their "secret" place. She had never been there. That was something else they teased her about, that they had a secret place and she didn't. Of course there was nothing cool there. It had been a ruse. They grabbed her and tied her to a tree. They taunted her about her boyfriend rescuing her before the bears ate her. There were no bears, but there were other things out there, scary things. Meg was sure of that. She pleaded with them and cried, but they just laughed and ran off.

Hours went by. Meg's emotions went from fear and anger to boredom and back. Then she heard a noise behind her. She couldn't turn to see. Suddenly two hands covered her eyes. Meg screamed.

"Guess who."

It was Gregory! Relief and anger washed over her. Relief that he had found her and a resurgence of anger at her snotty brothers.

"Untie me!"

"What? Don't I get a reward?"

"A reward? Come on, Gregory, untie me."

"Not until I get my reward."

And, so saying, he kissed her. They had never kissed. She wouldn't let him. Truth be told, she didn't know how to kiss. But now he was kissing her and it was sloppy and awkward the way things usually are with children. But he did untie her and they held hands as they walked back, Meg coming up with awful and more awful plans of revenge.

It became kind of a game after that. Her brothers would kidnap her and Gregory would have to come find her and, yes, he always got his reward.

All that changed the following year when he and Daniel graduated to middle school. They were older now and she was still a kid. Besides, middle school girls had boobs.

Eventually she forgot about Gregory, forgot about the game, eventually she grew her own boobs and her thoughts turned elsewhere ... that is until she met Earl. They had met and dated in college. And, she soon found out, he was into bondage. It started with fuzzy handcuffs and quickly escalated to a gym bag full of gear. And Earl always got his reward, although the reward was significantly more, er, involved.

She liked bondage with Earl. They hadn't had sex yet, just a lot of kissing and groping. He would wrestle her down and hold her hands over her head while he kissed and rubbed against her. She liked that. But one day he produced a pair of handcuffs and when she submitted to him he locked them on her wrists. She knew what was about to happen. Had been wanting it, but it was the kind of thing where the guy had to take the lead. That was just the way it was. Besides, she was still a virgin. But not for long.

He undressed her, unbuttoning her blouse, unclasping her bra. He undid her jeans and she kept saying, "Earl, please" in a way that meant stop, but she never said stop and he didn't. Not until her cherry was a mere stain on the sheet.

Bondage became a main part of sex. Sure, they had quickies behind the bushes. But when it came to real sex Meg was always tied, cuffed, chained, something.

At first it bothered her because she couldn't do anything. She wanted to please him and now that she had become sexually active she had done her research and delighted in sharing her new-found knowledge and techniques with her boyfriend. But now she had to just lay there and let him do as he pleased. She came to overcome those feelings. Came to enjoy the helplessness. Came to see bondage as a kind of freedom. She didn't have to worry about Earl, about pleasing him. And as a bonus, bondage was, for all intents and purposes, a form of extended foreplay.

The affair lasted two years. Meg spent most every weekend bound and gagged in her room, sometimes never being free from Friday night 'til Sunday. They went to different schools, but her roommate went home on weekends, so Earl spent them with her. One of his favorite things was to cuff and gag her and order her to masturbate. She hadn't been much into masturbation, but now she spent some time every weekend diddling herself while Earl watched. That may have been the start of it, the whole self-bondage thing. Because bondage and sex had been firmly intertwined in her brain and when Earl wasn't around and she was horny she found it was better to rub one out while cuffed. She even carried the cuffs in her bag.

And Earl had a thing for public bondage. Not walking around in chains for all the world to see. But under her clothes she was always restrained in some way. Maybe a pair of handcuffs in the pouch of her hoody or a rope dress under her clothes or just the crotch chain.

She wore the chain every day for over a year. It was a simple thing. A chrome steel leash with the clip and strap removed. Earl simply wrapped it around her waist feeding the end of the chain through the chrome ring, down between her ass cheeks, up between her pussy lips. He pulled it snug, locked the end in place, and cut off the excess. She wore it 24/7 when Earl wasn't around and most of the time when he was. She still had her cuffs, but now she could enjoy herself by just tugging on the chain. And it was always there rubbing on her. She did a lot of tugging.

Of course, bathroom breaks were a challenge. Peeing was no problem, but number two required a bit of contortion. She found a way to squat, twist, and pull on the chain so it stayed out of the way ... mostly.

She missed the chain. Missed Earl. When they graduated they went separate ways, good jobs drawing them to opposite sides of the country.

She had other boyfriends since, but none into bondage. Or maybe they were, but she wasn't about to bring it up. She was firmly in me-Tarzan-you-Jane mode. If it was going to happen it would have to be his idea. So she turned to self-bondage. Nights like this one, usually outside, she'd restrain herself. Winter was best because she could cover herself completely and no one would know the difference.

But she found other ways to enjoy herself. Last Halloween Daniel wrapped her up like a mummy. He had no clue what she was up to when she broached the subject, when she dragged the box of tape from her trunk.

She stripped down to a white, one-piece bathing suit. She had already inserted the Ben-Wa balls into her pussy. The vibrator would have made too much noise. But the balls were pleasant enough as long as she kept moving. She had him wrap her feet up to her shins. Then she stood and he wrapped her legs. He seemed a bit uncomfortable taping her crotch, so she did it. Then he wrapped her arms and she crossed them over her chest and he wrapped her up to her neck. She had him wrap her four times. "It's chilly," she had said. Finally he wrapped her head, leaving only a slight gap for her eyes. She had made a wash and he swabbed it on her turning the fresh, white tape gray and aged. He drove her to the party. She wasn't the only mummy there, but she was the only one that was truly wrapped, helpless until Daniel cut her free a couple of hours later.

Bright light sliced across the porch interrupting her thoughts. A thin sliver of white in the darkness.

"Where is she?"

"How should I know."

"Well, her car's there."

"Maybe she's out for a walk or, God forbid, a date."

"Dan, be nice."

"I am. I'm fixing her door aren't I?"

"Well hurry, you're letting in all the cold air."

"Striker plate's come loose, just have to screw it back in. Won't take a minute."

And it barely took that long. Her brother opened and shut the door a couple of times.

"There. All fixed."

Meg's mind raced. It took her only a few seconds to reach the decision, but it was too late.

She tottered to the door, mmf'd behind the gag. She was met with the sound of the dead bolt engaging. Lights went off. Then a dull thud as the back door closed. She heard Dan's truck start, saw the lights sweep across the street, watched it pull up to the stop sign, and drive off.

She stood there, stunned, for a minute. Meg considered her escape routine. She could barely, just barely move the strap under her boobs until she could reach the buckle. Once freed a bit she could do the same with the upper strap, then she could tug the hem of the coat up until she could reach the key on the table - except the key on the table was behind a locked door.

Then two thoughts struck as one. She couldn't stay on the porch and maybe Dan had left the back door unlocked. Meg soon discovered that she was virtually trapped. With her knees strapped together she couldn't negotiate the steps. There were only three, but they may well have been a thousand and three. Then she realized that even if she could get down, there were the back steps to deal with.

Still, desperate times call for desperate measures. Meg flopped to the hard, concrete surface. Thankfully the coat's padding made it not too painful. She wormed her way to the edge of the porch, stuck her feet over the stairs. She bumped her way down one stair, then realized that once she got to the bottom, if she fell, she'd never be able to get up. She needed a plan B. Meg ooched her way to the edge of the porch. It was only about a two-foot drop to the ground. Maybe she could slide over the edge and stand. And that's what she did. And if it hadn't been for the heavy shrubbery she'd have tumbled. An image in her mind of her bound and helpless, on the ground hidden behind the bushes, made her shiver, set her heart to racing

She took baby steps across the front yard, around the house into the back.


"So you had to break in?"


"Sorry. I didn't think you'd leave the house and not take your keys."

"Never had to worry about it before."

"Jeez. You asked me to fix it, I did, now you're mad at me."

Meg leaned over and kissed him.

"I'm not mad."... well not at him.

She had realized navigating the back stairs was impossible. It took several tries to release the straps on her chest, then she lay on the ground and slipped her arms around her butt. She raised her legs and pulled her feet through, said a silent thank you for all those gymnastics classes. With her hands in front she undid the knee strap and unzipped the coat. And, yes, the back door was locked, too.

"Listen, can you rekey the locks so I don't have to use separate keys?"

"Uh uh. I can install 'em and fix 'em, but rekeying is behind me. How about I get new ones? You can get a set of locks with different keys, but one master key."

"That's a good idea."

"And you could hide the master key outside somewhere."

Meg smiled.

"That's another good idea.

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