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Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage 12

by Hagster

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© Copyright 2003 - Hagster - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; F/ff; bondage; con; X

Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage
by Hagster
Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage

Chapter Twenty-Four - Two Friends Bonding

Hello, again, Sammy Joe here.  It’s been a while since I had begun my session of self-bondage-turned bondage and domination with my two closest friends.  If you have been reading this little story of mine, you might be now realize just how close Kristen and I have become.  Sure, she was always a close friend, but only now do I more fully understand her. 

Yeah, she might be sexually adventurous and sensuously enticing, but not in an uncomfortable way, by no means.  She exhibits a sense of control, (not to be confused with controlling), and a comfortable, reassuring demeanor that instills in others easiness and trust.  It feels really nice and emotionally pleasant and fulfilling, not to mention physically gratifying!

Trish, on the other hand, is quite a bit more difficult to understand.  Quiet, reserved, and seemingly innocent when in public, I have seen a side of her these last couple of days which, frankly, shocked and surprised me.  Whether it was due to some bad relationships with some dickhead boyfriends, problems at home, or the pressure of helping to run the family businesses at such a young age… I honestly couldn’t say.  I actually had always been much closer to her than to Kristen, but now… I don’t know.  She loses control of herself and if not for the presence of Kristen, who knows what she would be capable of doing or enduring?

I’m not a psychologist, never claimed to be, but I have taken a course at the University.  You know what they say about a little knowledge being a dangerous thing?  Well, it’s true, or so I hear.  However, could it be that Trish’s emotional pains are manifesting themselves in such a way as to induce her to indulge in certain activities that may or may not involve physical pain and sensual gratification?  Does her quest for physical punishment somehow satisfy or justify her forays into inflicting pain and humiliation onto others?  Does she feel that by hurting others, those who she has wronged will return that hurt upon her?  Apparently, all of these things are converging to satisfy her sexual proclivities. 

It is frightening to think that she has provided me with some of the more satisfying of my sexual encounters, along with some of the more disturbing ones.  No matter what, I would always remember these experiences and think back on them fondly because they both have taken an interest in me and provided me with intensely emotional and physical gratification.  I could never begin to thank them for their intentions and attentions. 

Still… there is a small part of me that is worrisome of Trish.  Well, so what, right?  Kristen is with us, so why fret?

Thank you for your indulgence.  I suppose I should get on with the story.  That is, if you wish it.  Yes?  Here goes!

We were all sitting in the living room eating pizza, drinking beer, and watching a just-released videotape (courtesy of Trish).  Kristen had ensconced herself into the recliner while Trish made her nest on the sofa.  I, meanwhile, was sitting cross-legged on the floor at the end of the coffee table.  For nearly half an hour, the only noises from each of us was the sound of eating, drinking, and occasional laughter at the antics of the movie characters reacting to the outlandish circumstances to which the writers had subjected them.  The pizza was gone and all of we three had drained our drinks.  Kristen, who held the remote, noticed and paused the movie.

“Okay, guys, time for a break.  Speak now or forever hold your peace!”  I didn’t much care of what she might be alluding, but did care about peeing.  Trish jumped from her perch and leapt ahead of me to the bathroom.  Last again!  I motioned to Kristen to go ahead of me and she smiled and thanked me.  Damned my gracious host attitude!  I took advantage of the opportunity and gathered some of the trash off the table and took it all to the trash can in the utility room.  After opening the refrigerator, I grabbed three more beers and went back into the living room.  Not much pizza left; better eat while the eating’s good! 

A few minutes later, Kristen glided down the stairs and sat down in the recliner after grabbing her beer.  “You got me another brewski?”

“Yeah.  Drink up.”  I answered.  “Want another slice?”

“No.  I’m done,” she replied, “and besides, this should probably be my last can.”

“Oh, come on, the party has just started!  You don’t have anywhere to go.”

Kristen rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue.  “Well, that’s not entirely true.  It seems I’ve gotten over my illness and need to be at work tomorrow.”

I set my beer down and looked at her.  “You don’t say.  Someone find out you were fibbing?”

“No, nothing like that.  I just hate to pawn off my work on anyone else, and besides, they’d probably half-ass it, anyway.”  Kristen appeared to be genuine with her explanation.  “But I will come back here right after work, I can assure you.”

“Well, I suppose that will be acceptable,” I responded with a raised finger and wagged it at her.  “Just so long as you check in and let me know what you’re doing, young lady.”

“Yes, mother!”  She giggled slightly and tipped the can to her lips.

Just then, Trish walked back into the room and sat down on the sofa.  “Is this beer for me?”  She looked at me with a pleased expression. 

“Yes.  I thought you might want a fresh, cold one.”

“Gee, thanks Sam!  By the way, the bathroom’s free.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that.”  I was trying to be polite and bite my tongue.  Shit!  Why was I having such a hard time warming up to her?  Hadn’t she apologized enough?  I swallowed my pride and grinned at her.  “Enjoy the beer.”  I closed my eyes slowly to indicate an apology and opened them back widely to meet her gaze in an attempt to give it meaning.  I believe she understood, as she responded with a wink and a grin of her own.

I turned and walked to bathroom and did my business, washing my hands and brushing my teeth afterwards.  Fresh breath can never be over-rated!  When I entered the living room, Kristen looked up at me and asked me to sit down next to Trish.  Trish smiled at me and patted the sofa cushion next to her.  I took the hints and had a seat next to her.

“You know, Sam, we’ve noticed you’ve become a little distant from Trish, and it concerns me.”  I could tell Kristen was serious by both the tone of her voice and the body language.  “So, I’ve decided to perform a little experiment, you know, for therapeutic purposes.”  I turned to Trish and she shrugged her shoulders indicating she had no clue.  I think Kristen noticed some confusion and anxiety welling up within each of us, because she was quick to assuage our concerns.  “Don’t worry, it will be fun and comfortable.” She smiled.  “Hopefully it will bring you two closer together.  Are you two game?” 

Trish and I looked at each other, then back at Kristen, then at each other again with furrowed and raised eyebrows.  Finally we looked back to Kristen and crooked our heads to the side as we shrugged our shoulders, showing our approval.

“Very good, ladies.  I’ll be just a moment.”  She rose from the recliner and went into my parent’s bedroom, rummaged around a bit then emerged, cradling a few items in her arms.  She laid them out on the floor at Trish’s feet and sifted through the pile, pulling out a pair of heavy leather ankle cuffs.  They were of the padded variety, and appeared to be of very high quality with both the roller buckle and strap, and lockable hasp. 

Trish and I read each other’s minds.  Our eyes met and we both instantly knew that some bondage was in store for us.  What we didn’t know was for just how long it would last.  Kristen looked up with an impish smirk on her face and started rolling down the tops of her socks down to the very tops of her feet.  Once that was done, she grabbed one of the cuffs and affixed it snugly around one of her slender ankles, slipping the metal hasp through one of the available slits in the free end of the cuff, then fed the strap through the hasp and ran it through the roller buckle, cinching it taut.   Kristen repeated the ritual on her other ankle, then applied a matching pair of wrist cuffs.  All the while, Trish remained motionless, moving only just enough to aid Kristen.  She seemed to be familiar with the process, and of the cuffs themselves.  I wondered to myself how often she had experienced this process with these very cuffs.  After the last cuff was attached, Kristen looked down and retrieved a familiar ring of keys and two short lengths of chain that appeared to be about a foot long.  She turned her attention to me.

“Didn’t think I’d forget about you, did ya, sweetie?”  I flushed with anticipation and just a wee bit of arousal.  It took her a few tries, but she finally found the correct key and unlocked my wrist shackles, inserted an end link onto the hasp, refastened the lock, then did the same to my other wrist, leaving a foot long length of chain dangling from each wrist.  “You obviously don’t know, Sam, but if you’d paint the bottoms of your locks and the keys that go with them different colors from your other sets, you could identify the corresponding key more quickly.”

Damn!  How simple, how elegant!  So that’s why all of their keys were different colors!  I’ll have to remember that idea for future reference.

“Okay, ladies.  You’ll have to negotiate with each other and reconcile your differences until the morning.”  Kristen sounded authoritarian.  “I’m going to force the two of you guys to make up, one way or another, and the best way I’ve figured to start is to chain you together.”  With that said, she grabbed two of her padlocks and locked the loose end of the chain on my right wrist to Trish’s left and the chain on my left wrist to her right wrist, then she followed suit with our ankles, which forced me to sit with my left leg crossed over my right, and vice versa for Trish.  I could tell right away that this could get uncomfortable, despite Kristen’s assurances.

Kristen backed away from us, turned out the lights, and sat back down in the recliner.  Trish played some “footsie” with me for a few moments and giggled.  Her eyes sparkled in the glow of the television and her smile was warm and kind.  “I guess we’re stuck like this, huh?”  She snickered.  “Maybe we’d better make the best of this, Sam.”

I smirked and rolled my eyes up into their sockets.  “When you’re right, you’re right.”  I pursed my lips and blew her a kiss.  “How about we grab this afghan next to me and cover up a bit?”

“Sounds great.”  I glanced at Kristen, who had been pretending to watch the movie, feigning disinterest in our conversation.  “Whoa, wait a sec, let me, OK, here just…  There.”  Trish had to adjust her position and practically lay on top of me so that I could stretch my reach enough to clench the afghan.  It was really quite humorous, and Kristen must have agreed being as I heard a chuckle come from her direction.  “Here, now just let me pull this end over with me as I, mmpph, uh, OK, yeah.  There.  That wasn’t too bad.”  We were both almost out of breath from the exertion.  But at least we were covered by the afghan, one of many my Mother had crocheted over the years.  After sitting still for a while, we decided to quench our thirst.  Each of us grabbing our own beer would have been nice, but practicality dictated we drink from the can to avoid spillage.  As I raised the can to my lips with my left hand, Trish’s right hand had to “tag along” because of the chain.  When I got my fill, Trish took the can from my grasp and quenched her own thirst, with my left hand shadowing her right.  We then leaned forward and replaced the can on the table.

“Come on, Kris!”  I pleaded.  “Don’t you think this is a bit ridiculous?”  There was only silence and a focused glare.  “I mean really. Look at what we have to do to get a drink!!”  Again, only silence.  “I think you’ve made your point.”  Nothing.  I turned to look at my partner.  She was grinning from ear to ear with a look of “relax, we’re stuck!” on her face.  “Okay, fine.”  I supposed I should just get over it and go along with the predicament.  Fuck!

Chapter Twenty-Five - Going With the Flow

There I was sitting on the living room sofa, chained hand to hand and foot to foot with one of my best friends.  I had decided to just relax and quit fighting.  Instead of resisting the irresistable, why not just enjoy the situation and make the best of it?  I wasn’t going anywhere, Trish wasn’t going anywhere; we had beer, movies, and a comfortable sofa on which to sit.  And besides, Trish smelled fantastic!  Her hair was soft and fragrant, and her left hand felt so soft and warm in my right. Maybe, just maybe, I had been unfair to her.  She was still my best friend, and I suppose I was merely shocked at that side of her which so utterly shattered the image I had of an innocent, demure young woman.

Of course now that I am chained to her, I’ve been forced to reflect on my observations and analyze my own feelings.  Gee, maybe I had the problem, not Trish.  Afterall, Kristen had exhibited some initially unsavory proclivities, and I overcame those.  Why not extend to Trish a similar understanding?  Am I being petty in that I expected a level of morality from Trish above that of Kristen?  That’s a bit unfair, isn’t it?  Our bodies were pressed against each other and the heat radiating from her was comforting.  You know, she wasn’t really that bad.  In fact, I was beginning to feel used to her presence.  Possibly she was not as dangerous as I had once thought?

We sat silently only occasionally laughing or grunting at the escapades of the inept morons on the screen.  Only, my attention was slowly drifting away from the movie as I thought more and more about my friend.  Was she reaching out for me?  I mean there she was cuddled up with me on the sofa, not trying to molest me or force herself on me.  You know, there she was, and there I was, and Kristen was minding her own business and getting stewed on beer.  It was almost like we were alone…

Trish and I had drained the can we were holding, so we synchronized our movements and reached toward the table and exchanged our empty can for the other which was nearly full.  We cooperated as we each took several full drinks from the less-than-cold refreshment.  It was still delicious!  I turned my head and asked Kristen if she could bring us a couple of more beers.

She looked up, then back down at her beer and shook the can side to side gauging the contents.  “Sure, no problem.  Besides, I need one anyway.”  She slowly rose from her throne and almost stumbled before she regained her balance.  Even in drunkenness she was somehow still elegant.  Though, disturbingly so!

She didn’t tarry too long and brought back two more cans of the golden grain.  After setting them in front of us, she turned and plopped back into the recliner.  I didn’t think she would be with us much longer. 

“Thanks, Kris,” I mumbled.

“No ploblemlo.  By the way, this is my last beer.” She slurred her words, and shit was it funny seeing her that way!  Elegance be damned, Kristen could be a sloppy drunk, and I had actually witnessed it twice!  There was no way in Hell I was going to forget it, either!  “If youse two want more,” she sighed and rubbed her face and forehead with her palm, “you’ll jusht have to get them.  I’m going to bed!”  With that said she took a big gulp from the can, reached forward and set it on the coffee table, staggered to her feet and stumbled up the stairs behind us.  “Good night.”  We waited until she was out of earshot then erupted with guffaws and horselaughs.  We turned our faces toward each other and continued for a while longer until our snickers finally subsided.  Trish’s hot breath assaulted my face, as I’m sure mine did hers.  The smell of the fermented grain permeated the air about us as we stared into each other’s eyes.

“Hey, Sam, if we make some adjustments, I think we can get more comfortable.”  I squinted my eyes as I wondered what she had in mind.  “If I put my left arm around your shoulders and you draped your right arm up across your chest, I think we could sit closer together and uncross our legs.”

I considered the proposal for a moment…  She did have a pretty good idea after I thought about it.  All I would have to do would be to raise my hand with hers and as her arm encircled my head, rotate my wrist in its shackle and lay my right hand on my shoulder.  No problem!  “Okay, but let’s finish one of these beers first.

“Fine, you’re the boss.”  Yeah, right, I thought to myself.  We leaned forward and grasped a can, then fell back into the sofa.  First to her lips, then to mine, back and forth until we drained the contents.  Instead of politely setting the empty can on the table, we agreed to simply pitch it and hope it didn’t roll off.  We lucked out.  “Okay, here goes nothing.  Are you ready?”  I looked at her and nodded my head.  As she raised her left arm, I followed suit with my right, and as she wrapped her arm behind my head, I twisted my wrist in the shackle and joined her hand with mine directly below my neck.

With our arms no longer keeping us from snuggling closer, we scootched more closely together on the sofa with the nape of my neck nestled cozily into her left armpit.  With my body closer and leaning in to hers, we were able to uncross our legs and lift my right and her left leg, chained as they were, allowing the chain connecting my left leg to her right to slide underneath as we curled them under with our soles touching.  Damned these socks!  I wanted to feel flesh!

Trish turned her head to speak.  “There, doesn’t that feel better?”  Suddenly her eyes widened in horror as she belched right into my face.  It was not a silent, feminine belch, but a guttural one that springs from the very soul.  I instinctively recoiled from the gaseous eruption and gasped in revulsion.  “Shit, you gutter slut, what the hell was that all about!?!”  I choked on my own spit and hacked and coughed as I laughed.  “I hope you’re not gonna shit your pants!” 

Trish’s face turned beet red.  She was obviously embarrassed.  She couldn’t even put her hand over her mouth quickly enough because it was chained to mine.  Lord it was funny.  But, not wanting to spoil the rapport we had managed to establish, I promptly swallowed some air and belched at her.  Granted it in no way matched the grandiose magnitude of hers, but did manage to ease her discomfort.  The redness eventually drained from her face and a grin replaced her scowl, finally allowing herself to laugh.  The entire affair has been unforgettable.

By then, the movie was merely background noise and indistinguishable movements.  I had other thoughts on my mind and could see in Trish’s eyes a like mindset.  I searched for her right hand, which was lying on her thigh.  I intertwined my fingers with hers, then reached for her left, which was on my chest, with my other hand and gripped it as well. 

As soon as we settled into our new positions and got comfortable, we readjusted the afghan and snuggled into each other’s embrace.  Trish resumed playing footsie with my feet, alternating between each one.  She was quite good and her efforts were very soothing.  If it hadn’t been for the erotic stimulation of her massages, I would probably have been lulled to sleep. 

I was enjoying the attention when I noticed something new entering the mix.  It didn’t take long before I realized that the proximity of her left hand to my breast allowed her to gradually maneuver our hands over the top of my fleshy mound.  I did not resist her advances, and the truth be known, I had probably subconsciously aided her.  Ever so subtlely she extracted her hand from mine and began slowly circling a finger around my nipple, ever so gingerly, so lovingly, so expertly. 

I sighed into her T-shirt and allowed myself to breathe heavier into her bosom.  Trish’s fingers began to move more swiftly and with more purpose.  She alternated the swirls with soft pinches and rolling the tender nub of flesh between her index finger and thumb.  I couldn’t resist the urge to moan and rub my face against her breast.  I really had misjudged her, and felt the need to make it up to her.

I unburied my face from her side and raised it to look at her.  She was ogling me out of the corner of her eyes, you know, one of those sly, salacious stares.  Before I could make a move, she leaned her face into mine seeking out my mouth with hers.  I was able to quickly moisten my lips with my tongue before we kissed, just a few pecks at first, then we graduated to more intense frenching.  Our tongues danced and wrestled within their confines.  We both hummed with enjoyment as we smacked and slobbered our way to mutual satisfaction.  Her massaging of my nipple changed to a more forceful kneading of my breast.  Although our situation was awkward preventing unfettered movement, I immediately discovered she was an experienced kisser.  Damn, she even rivaled Kristen!  I pulled away and sighed heavily, inviting an inquisitive leer from Trish.

“I’m sorry, Sam, did I do…”  I didn’t give her the chance to finish the question.

“Oh, God no, Trish.”  I replied.  “Hey, we’re uncomfortable here and we need more room.  I think we both know what we want, and we can’t really enjoy it like this, now can we?”  She grudgingly nodded her agreement and removed her arm from behind my neck.  “Why don’t we finish this last beer and go to bed, huh?”

We both leaned forward and grabbed the full beer off the table.  I popped the top and raised the can to my lips, drawing a mouthful.  The suds foamed in my throat as I forced back a spew.  Trish snickered as she took the can and imbibed her portion.  She fared no better than I.  As many may very well know, there comes a time when chilled beer warms to a point that it begins to foam when swallowed.  This particular beer had achieved such a temperature.  Trish was able to gag down her mouthful and it was my turn to mock her.  She initiated a move to set the can back on the coffee table and I followed her lead, then we both settled back into the sofa.

I looked at the television screen and saw nothing but snow.  Apparently, the movie had ended, rewound, and the VCR had turned off itself.  Then, the inevitable happened.

“Sam,” Trish looked at me, “I have to go to the bathroom.”  Well, that wasn’t a big surprise.  I had the urge as well.  “Okay, let’s go.” I replied, then suddenly realized the problem that faced us. 

“Shit, Trish, how are we going to get there?”  I was without an original idea.  “I guess we’ll have to crabwalk to the bathroom!” 

Trish remained silent for a bit.  “Ooh, I have an idea!”  She was a Godsend.  “What if I wrap both of my arms around you like we did on the couch, then I can walk directly behind you, that is if you don’t mind me groping your boobs?” 

I paused for a moment to ponder her suggestion, and finally decided it would be much easier than my way.  “Okay, let’s do it your way.” 

We both stood up from the sofa and faced each other, raising our arms straight up over our heads.  As I turned away from her, my arms crossed over my chest and her arms wrapped around me from behind.  After that, it was only a simple matter of lifting our feet over the chains and rotating the shackles around our ankles.  With that done we were both able to walk forward in unison to the bathroom.  “Are we going to go to bed, or watch another movie,” I scoffed.

“Why don’t we go to bed, Sam.”  I grunted in agreement, then knelt down to the TV remote and turned off the television and VCR.  Thank goodness for my parent’s insistence on night-lights, else we would have been in utter darkness.  We managed to make our way to the bathroom and turn on the light. 

“Hey Sam, how are we going to do this?  I mean I can sit right down on the toilet and do my business with you sitting on my lap, but we’d have to change positions!”  She sounded perplexed.  “And either way we can’t wipe ourselves!” 

Damn, she was right!  It didn’t take long for me to realize we would have to undo our front to back embrace and face each other to free up our hands.  “Okay, let’s face each other again, then we can do our business.”  She agreed, as we untwisted our bodies and again stood face to face.  “Me first!”  Trish exclaimed.  She backed up to the toilet, we pulled down her sweat pants (no panties), and sat down on the padded ring’s surface, forcing me to kneel on my haunches before her, staring at her in the belly and tits, our hands at her side.

Wonderful!  Luckily it was a simple matter of peeing, which didn’t take too long for her to finish.  We reached over to the toilet paper holder and ripped off a length.  We reached between her legs and gently patted and wiped her pussy dry.  After we stood we pulled her sweatpants back up and traded places.  After pulling down my pajama bottoms, I sat on the seat, with Trish on her haunches.  Unfortunately, my needs were more substantial than hers.  After the last of the tinkling ended, Trish started to reach for some paper.

“Uh Trish,” I stammered, “I’m not finished.”  She paused and eyed me for a second. ”What do you mean you’re not finished?”

“Well, I’ve got to, you know, well… finish.”

“Whoa, hey, no fair.”  She appeared to be serious with her protest.  “Let’s talk about this.  I mean, I didn’t, and neither do you!”

I cocked my head to the side and smirked.  “Besides, it’s too late, it has already begun.”  It wasn’t my intention to force her to endure a session in scatological pursuits, but what was done was done.  I tried to be as brief as humanly possible, but unlike Kristen, my shit did stink, though not much. 

“Oh, come on!  Gee whiz, Sam, finish already, will ya?!” 

“Settle down, Trish.  I’m done.  Just let me wipe up. Okay?”  I couldn’t help but let loose with pig snort.  “Really, at least you’re not going to have to wash it out of your hair, now are you?!”  She ceased with her feigned disgust and allowed me to clean my privates.

“Are you happy now, Sam?”  She did smile.  “If you’re through, can we wash our hands. Please?”

“Yes ma’am, if you insist.”  We stood and pulled my up my bottoms, then flushed the toilet.  After we turned on the vanity faucet, we wetted our hand and lathered them up with some hand soap, then rinsed and dried them.

“Here, you want some mouthwash?”  I asked Trish.

“Yeah, let me have a mouthful.”  I took a swig and lifted the bottle to her lips.  We swished the solution about for a few seconds then spit it out into the sink and ran some water to rinse the wash basin.

I looked at her.  “Shall we call it an evening?”

“Please,” Trish replied.  We performed our little dance and adopted our walking stance, turned off the light and walked back to the living room.  After making sure all of the lights, TV, and VCR were turned off, we made our way to my parents’ bedroom and their very large, very comfortable bed.


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