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Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage

by Hagster

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© Copyright 2003 - Hagster - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; cons; X

Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage
by Hagster

Although this is a fictional story, the situations, methods, and gear described have been combined from imagined thoughts and actual experiences to form a story of hopefully believable and erotic fantasy.  Enjoy.


Part One

My name is Sammy Joe (short for Samantha Josephine) and I live on a cattle farm in rural Missouri outside of Kansas City.   My Father works very hard around the farm with all of the chores and expects my brother and me to help out where we can.  My brother Joe (my parents lack a certain amount of originality where names are concerned) is usually found in the fields or the machine shop with Dad working the cattle or repairing odds and ends; mainly the more strenuous jobs.  He lives down the lane with his wife in a mobile home on a plot of the family farm and has a partnership arrangement with our Dad.  Apparently his degrees in Business and Agriculture have impressed our father.   I, on the other hand, am only down on the farm through the summer months while on break from college.  Being as I love animals, Veterinary seemed the way to go.  Mom and Dad agree.  So, while I am at home on breaks and such I can usually be found bottle feeding the calves, grooming my mare, helping Mom around the house, or working in the garden.  Our farm has been in the family now since before the war (Civil War, that is) and we all are proud to be obligated with its operation and upkeep.  I truly hate to be away for long periods.

An odd thing has happened, though.  Can not remember a time in my life when Mom and Dad ever took a trip anywhere overnight, much less the week-long vacation they have planned.  And to make matters even more interesting, Joe and Heather, his wife, are going to go along.  I’ll bet you see where this is heading!

Thoughts began to dance in my brain.  Exciting thoughts.  Naughty thoughts.   Self-bondage thoughts.  Access to the Internet, curiosity of self-bondage, knowledge of the machine shop, and availability of various materials of binding would serve me well.  I began to make plans of my own.

Part Two 
Making the Equipment

Sammy Joe again.  I suppose I should describe myself to you all.  I’m just shy of 20 years old with long curly auburn hair, roundish face, green eyes, elfin ears, and the cutest little nose you’ve ever seen.  I work outdoors on the farm most days and, being as the summers are hot and I wear bikini tops and cut-offs, I have the dark bronze tan to prove it.  I’m proud of the body I’ve managed to develop, with perky breasts, slim waist, and ample hips, so I’ve been told.  My boyfriend at college measured me one night for shits and giggles (I never bothered, myself) and concluded I was 32C-23-33.  I keep my fingernails fairly short, but manicured and prefer clear gloss polish; easier to manage on the farm.  I go barefoot quite a bit and treat my feet much the same as my hands.  A necessity to use, but a must to keep looking good as well.  Add to the package my slender legs, and I’m not unpleasant to look at.

I spent the next week searching the farm for items to help me in my up-coming (pun intended) adventure.  We had plenty of rope and twine all over the place, and while fun for play bondage with self and friends, they just did not invoke the permanency of leather, steel chains, and padlocks, commodities which were in abundance on the farm.  There would be a few items to buy, and the hardware store and market in the nearby town would do famously. 

It was not a difficult task concealing my efforts while amassing my treasure trove of bondage gear.  Many of the items were in plain sight and most of the things I would be altering had plenty of similar stock to mask their disappearance.

Let’s begin with the homemade wrist and ankle shackles, shall we?  Barn door hinges are typically made of two long triangular pieces of steel connected in the middle by a built in hinge and come in several sizes.  It’s not hard to shape the steel hinges if one has a vice, suitable mallet, strong arms, and a lot of patience.  These hinges have pre-drilled holes for screws or nails and if shaped properly by making each half of the hinge into an arc (preferably with the hinge on the outside) and leaving the last inch or two of the ends of the triangles unbent, the end holes can be matched up to latch with a padlock, thus encircling the wrists and ankles with unyielding and unremovable steel.  Steel can be a little uncomfortable, so I drilled some small holes and added some pieces of suede to the inside of the shackles by using pop rivets, from the inside out, of course.  One other benefit from adding the padding is that one can make the inside of the shackle smaller to conform more closely to the size of the wrist or ankle.  I was pretty proud of myself and got pretty wet thinking of what I would be doing to myself in a week.  With my wrists and ankles taken care of, it was time to think about making some sort of body harness.  Harness?  Didn’t I mention a horse earlier?

We had quite a bit of tack hanging in the barn to use on horses, foals, and cows and calves.  Much of the older tack was made of leather and was well used, but the newer stuff was made of nylon, which is stronger (and machine washable).   I picked through the collection and found three, which would be most suitable; two smaller ones and one larger.  All three of the harnesses were multi-adjustable which would make them conform most nicely to my trim body.  Firstly, I took one of the smaller harnesses and undid the buckles, then undid the buckles on the other and hooked the end of the neck strap on one into the buckle of the neck strap on the other harness, placed the ensemble around my slim waist and buckled the remaining ends together, making a belt.  The remaining straps were dangling around my thighs and knees and I began to fasten the remaining buckles.  The muzzle straps wrapped around each thigh just above the knees and the mid-straps encircled each thigh just below my crotch.  I now had a nylon harness attached to each thigh and hooked together around my waist.  Once cinched tightly and locked with some small locks placed through the buckle holes, short of a blade these babies were not going to be removed.  One more harness to go. 

I undid the buckles on the larger harness and placed the muzzle strap around my neck with the under strap in front running down between my breasts and loosely buckled it.  The mid strap was buckled underneath my breasts and the neck strap was buckled around my waist.  Once again, after being cinched tightly and adding some small locks through the strap holes, this harness was not going to be removed without key or blade.    What I soon realized was that the rings in the lower harness combo could be locked to the rings in the upper harness with some padlocks.  Wow!  I just developed a full body harness (which would be capable of supporting my weight).  I think you know where this is going!

Now, the only thing left was to address the more intimate parts of my anatomy.  I’d have to give this some thought.  Chores awaited and these harnesses would be noticed if I didn’t remove them and hang them back up.  Besides, I needed to use the bathroom to, uh, take care of something.

Continued in Chapter 2


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