Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

The Real Me

by Joanne Henre

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© Copyright 2008 - Joanne Henre - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbm; rope; fem; nylons; gag; chains; caught; F/m; bond; clamps; true; cons; X

Fellow Enthusiastics,

I was glad to discover others in the world with similar tastes. Good not to feel so alone, or so evil and perverted.

The trick with the ice escaped me ... Thanks, all of you... Whoever.

I was going the other way, trying to put keys into boiling pots of water which would have to then cool, obvious problems with that idea, the least of which was that it wouldn't work. Ice never occured to me.

[Two (+) heads are better than one.]

I played with handcuffs in an ammo bunker near a quiet 105 howitzer once. I would have given almost anything for a pair of nylons!! (Before the advent of universal pantyhose, you see?) And HEELS!!! Forget about it!!! Hell, even a good pair of handcuffs would have been appreciated. The cheap kind with a spur like wheel with holes in the cuff arm are just for show, I discovered. Hell, I was 145 pounds, soaking wet, then (in 1967), and even I could break such a set... and did! It is a real bummer, all will agree, when your desired helplessness becomes a joke. Well, at least the Police use real cuffs... and leg irons. (Funny, the real thing I found not the least arousing.... Ha!)

A young wife at work at night left me with hours to play, never caught, never discovered.

Be careful with hair dryers!!! I was tied to the bed with many knots to loose to free myself, my wife at work and me with no classes that day... the hair dryer hose securely taped to the naked tip of me. The uncomfortably hot air did something I had not figured on: it built! Just blowing past my glans was a trip, but when I placed myself inside the plastic hose and sealed all with duct tape (lordy! Don't we love duct tape???), I had formed a plenum in which the air collected and in which the heat collected.

Not many of us were as stupid at 24, thankfully. I told the naive wife I had spilled a pot of boiling water onto my crotch in the making of tea... [She always believed that, I suppose. More likely it didn't mean much to her, not having happened to her, and people are always interested in you only insofar as you affect their lives and self-image.] Not many scarred dicks around, I'll wager.

The young wife was my escape for a while. She'd come to find me, and free me, when she noticed my absence... Like the time she found me in the loft of her father's barn, in hose and a nightie, chained to a post.

Awfully glad it was her and not a brother-in-law seeking me out after midnite.. She soon opted out on that game, feeling my tastes were not "manly". I was back to self/auto. I suppose I have never found out what was proper and manly for myself.


The bondage is tied in with a nylon fetish, I guess, for me. I hesitate to link it with, or to call myself a cross-dresser, for I outgrew that part.... ? I stick to pantyhose, heels and a gown of some type or a simple nylon slip. Dressed in my nylon I cannot long avoid thoughts of playing with ropes and chains.

For the uninitiated, you will find chains and locks, handcuffs and steel, safer in ways than rope and straps. I really suggest they are more dependable and safe. Who has not wrangled with the problem of numb hands or feet from a tightened knot? Dangerous. In an emergency, keys work so much faster than knots.

When my roommates (20-somethings and blonde... who wants a hairy-leg for a roomie when there are young ladies in need of safe, dependable roomies?) wanted me out of the way for a time, or just to give me a treat, I would find myself spread out on my bed, gagged and blindfolded... for hours... but, I always had a hide-out key to free myself.... just in case. BE SAFE, BE PREPARED..........

But, of course, having that OUT is a turn-off, no? With three lasses downstairs who have you entirely at their mercy, and all three intelligent and daring, one can certainly get carried away with FANTASY.. [The head is where it is, right? The sexiest part of the body, I was told, is the part between the ears.]


One night I was alone upstairs, playing. Dressed, of course, in my pantyhose with the cotton crotch removed, nylon slip/gown and heels. Twist link chains around each wrist with Master locks for charms. Straps, with hardware for tightening, sliding freely through the anklets sporting Master charms, spread my legs far towards the corners of the king-size. The loose ends of the straps were reachable even when my wrists were stretched to their bed corners. But when you pull on a strap end, the tie-down's loop gets smaller. You can pull your ankles farther apart, take the strain on your thighs further, but it is impossible to PUSH the strap end to loosen it. One-Way..........

Another strap at my waist for a belt was roped to both sides of the bed to further restrict my movements.

Nylon strings tied to my ankle chains would guy my member upright during an erection. The loops under the glans steadied me under all kinds of gentle attention......

The hands were hard to lock into place, until I figured out to tie the ends of the chains locked to the bed posts with a piece of string so they didn't slide off the bed when I tried to Master my bracelets to each.

With short sections of chain locked to the bedpost/legs with the free ends toward me, I could use another lock to fix my wrist to the bed. Not wanting to face disaster, I always tied the keys to the wrist/corner chain lest I drop them. Sometimes I use a LONG cord which takes time to inch back up to reach the fallen keys on the far end....

I had gagged myself with a pair of pantyhose from the Girls laundry. I balled them and taped them in my mouth with several strips of Duct Tape. Alone in my studio apartment, I finally had myself ready, and I had just snapped the wrist lock shut on my left. As I reached to the right with the last padlock with which I would join the wrist chain to the bed chain, I put clothespins on my nipples, under the gown. There they would stay until I had loosed my hand again....... on naked flesh..

No sooner than I had locked the last Master the door opened downstairs, and I heard quiet sounds. One of my roommates had come home earlier than I had thought anyone would. Gagged and chained, of course I lay quiet. I was furiously winding up the cord to retrieve the keys when the door to my bedroom opened! I didn't make it. The Lass was the youngest of our little household, and I think the most daring.

She had played with me before... or at least, aided and kept the keys for me a few times. She had seen I was home. She had heard nothing from me so she came in to check on me....... a courtesy call.

Without a word she picked up the keys I was working towards my right hand via the cord. She untied them and carried the keys to the far side of the room, dropping them beside my car keys. I was watching her silently, of course, and I thought her a bit unsteady on her feet. Had had a few drinks I guessed.

"You won't need these for a while," she informed me. My heart raced.... a fantasy approached

"Where are the others?" She felt around my right hand, and under the sheet just near enough, she found my safety keys. Having had me up and around before, after last seeing me bound, she knew I must have a spare set nearby. "Now you won't be getting up without permission," she declared, almost sweetly.

Picking up the duct tape she leaned over me and added tape to my gag. Instead of the face only, she began to put the tape all the way around my head, wrapping my mouth and eyes tightly. When she stood all that was free was my nose. I was blindfolded and the wrapped tape would not get sweaty and let go. Nor would I be able to rub my head and face on the bed or my shoulders to get the duct tape off. There was no way I could get free of the gag and blindfold this trip! She was only enthusiastic? Or had she learned about that tape?

By now she must have noticed my mast, now guyed erect... But no more did she speak.

I had a moment of panic with being able to breathe. This was the first time I had no control of my gag.

Truly helpless to adjust or remove it, and just my nostrils free.... I imagined my nose stopping up and my being unable to breath. I had to stop and force myself to relax and to quell the panic in my chest. Releasing control, and accepting the total helplessness of the situation is a freeing act. Nothing I could do to change or effect the events left me with a calm acceptance. I lay there stretched out simply absorbing the scene and sensations, wondering what was in store for me... I wondered what would happen if one or both of our other roommates came home. Late in the night I began my playing around, so the others might not be long in arriving.

I lay there only a few minutes, I suppose, when She said, " those clolthespins must be uncomfortable."

With that, I felt them taken off my nipples, and a relief it was. However, relief was not what she had in store for me: "We must have something better than that, " she said. Then I felt the bite of the alligator clip!

Of course there was no way for me to move, or to avoid the second one. A little patience, and a little nipple chasing, and she soon had the other nipple feeling the bite.

Still squirming under the initial pain of the serious clips, I began to feel my ankles tugged upon. The straps I had used to stretch my legs apart were being pulled tighter! She left me in a strain I could never achieved myself... at least for longer than it took to effect release.

Quietly the door opened and I heard it close softly. She left me there alone and in a strain... totally open and helpless.

The panic from being so totally enclosed by the duct tape wrap, with the wad of nylon in my mouth was controlable, especially when I was being deluged with so many other sensations to contend with...........

After a while I did hear voices downstairs. Whether it was the tv or the other ladies having gotten home, I could not tell.

Part of me wanted free. Part of me relished the helplessness, the strain of my thighs, and the burning sensation on my nipples. The beauty of chain and padlocks is in the reality of the bondage. Unlike knots which I can reach and loosen, the padlock stays shut until it feels the tickle of the key. (Nor do you have to worry about your ropes cutting off your blood circulation as you try to work the knots and twist on the rope. But, of course, if I can free myself, I always try all possible to do so. The finality and surity of chain and lock is great..)

Waiting and sensing all the feelings was all I could do. I love the feeling of the cold air conditioning blown across my nylon sheathed thighs by the ceiling fan. One can be fully sensual if there is nothing else he can do. I waited with bouts of anxiety occurring when I thought I heard voices, or when I thought I could hear the bedroom door... I imagined my thighs being made tighter by the straps... I was lost in a world of black, just guessing aboput what would happen next... and wondering when it would happen.




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