Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

Sandra and Bill

by Maria TheMaid

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© Copyright 2023 - Maria TheMaid - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; M+/f; bond; collar; cuffs; gag; box; stuck; caught; enclosed; transported; cons; nc; X

Sandra and Bill liked to tie each other up. They were also into self-bondage. They were very careful; only one of them did it at any one time. They HAD heard about cases, where both parties had died or suffered heavily, because they had not taken the proper precautions.

This was Tuesday - and Sandra was free the whole day. 'Free' might not be the proper word. Because of her reduced hours at work she had promised to do the entire house cleaning. She was looking forward to noon. At that time she would start to tie herself up.

They loved to surprise each other, but the rules were fixed and strict. They NEVER left the property when tied up. NEVER. And their keys never left either. Oh. The key to the desk belonged to Bill today. She did not know where he had hidden it, but she knew that it was here - somewhere. All the other keys were locked inside the desk drawer. In this game you had to be cautious. Bill had left for job early in the morning, so she was all to herself.


David and Leroy passed the house that belonged to Sandra and Bill - without being aware of the fact. They were driving a lorry, and a big box fell off. The drivers had not tied all the boxes down properly. In spite of the fact that it was not very sturdy, it did not splinter. It received some dents, but that was all. It happened to roll until it stopped on the front lawn of the house. David and Leroy did not notice the loss.


Sandra had just started the washing machine, when she went out to look for mail. She saw the strange box on their lawn.

"What on Earth is that?" Bill had said nothing about any boxes. She went over to it and had a look at it.

The side had been painted with large characters and numbers. "CRLXP-407. What's that supposed to mean?" That told her nothing. The box was empty. Strange. Who had brought it? It was just a bit longer than six feet. What was its purpose?

"Oh." She thought that she had solved the riddle. "Bill must have it sent over. It's just big enough for one of us. That must have been his intention."

She checked the sides - and surely enough - it had many air holes. He would not want her to suffocate. Did he want her to test it today? She noticed that the lid had two fasteners. They moved easily when she pushed them. She opened them both and then she closed the lid with a crash. Both the fasteners had slipped down and locked the lid.

"Wicked! If one of us got inside and closed the lid, we'd be helpless." The thought turned her on. She noticed that the fasteners could even be locked with a padlock.

She tried to move the box. She could do that easily enough. It was not that heavy. She pulled it all the way to their front door. She left the lid open. During the morning she stopped her job of cleaning several times and had a look at the box. 

"This time Billy has really been creative. One of us must use it someday. I hope that I'll be first."


At noon she had her lunch. After she had put the plate and cutlery into the machine she got started with the preliminaries. She had already laid most of her plans. First the clothes. She had decided on naughty garters and stockings. No panties. No bra. Then the lockable high heeled shoes.

Click - click. Now she would not be able to take them off before Bill got here. She had to resist the urge to come. They had very strict rules for their play. Then she put on her shortest dress. It would show the tops of her stockings - and her garters if she was careful.

She went into their 'hobby room' and had a look. She had not yet made a decision as to whether to wear a collar. They had a variety of choices. Then she saw it… Yes, perfect. The heaviest of them all. It was even engraved. It said 'prisoner'. Click. "Oh. I love it. I'll be your prisoner for the rest of the day. Hurry home." 

Anything more? Something for her legs? "No. I'm already wearing my lockable shoes." But cuffs for her hands. "Yes." She chose the equivalents of her collar. Big, heavy ones. They were also engraved. One of them said 'slut', the other 'hooker'. "Oooh. They describe me perfectly." The final touch was the short chain.

She hesitated. Had she done the required work in the house? Yes. She must have. Click - click. Now the cuffs were linked to each other. Again she was close to giving in to the temptation. Would Bill discover it? Probably not. But if he did? He would not punish her. Oh, no. He would be disappointed. And she could not STAND that.

The phone rang. She had trouble handling the phone with her hands chained together.


"Hi. Bill here. Are you ready?" He knew precisely what she was doing. In principle - if not in detail.

"I'm awaiting you eagerly."

"My lunch break is almost over. I'll be counting the minutes."

"And I'll be counting the seconds."

"Bye, dear."


Now what? She had at least two hours before he was here. Television? "No. Boring." Some book or other? She fetched one and started to read. After five minutes she found out that she could not remember anything that she had read. She threw it aside. "I'm way too horny for that."

Could she do anything? She stepped into their 'hobby room' again. "Yes - a gag." She chose a ball gag and put it into place. They had discussed lockable gags some years ago, but had decided against it. Gags must be removable in emergencies. They were very safety conscious. Caution was their middle name.

Then she remembered the box on the front lawn. "Oh. That should be fun." From the door she carefully scanned the neighborhood. Was anyone in sight? She waited - impatiently - until a random car had passed out of sight. "Now! No-one in sight." She quickly stepped over to the box and slipped inside.

As always she paused before committing herself. She had NOT yet closed the lid. This was it. Time for a decision. Oh! She was turned on. She tried to pull herself together. NOW - DO IT.

"Oh - I want it. I want it. DO IT NOW!" She slammed the lid shut. She prayed. "Now - you small fasteners - I hope that you have done your job." Gently she tried to open the lid again. No way. She pushed harder. It did not give an inch.

"Yes. Come home soon, Bill" If anybody had heard what she said, they would have heard: "Mfph."


A truck was passing, when the passenger cried out, "Ho!"


"There's one of them boxes."

If the drivers from the morning delivery had been here to pick up the boxes again, they would have known that something was wrong. But these were new, so they did not think much about it. The driver slowed down and looked. Surely enough - it looked like one of their boxes.

"Have you got our instructions?"

"Sure. Here they are. Boxes number blah, blah to be picked up at the address blah, blah at one p.m."

"This is not the right address."

"You are right. But let's have a look. The box looks like one of ours. There's even some letters on the side. Let's go over and have a look."

"Right. Bring the instructions."

They went over to the house and checked the characters on the side of the box.

"It has the identification CRLXP-407 on the side. Do you agree?"

"I agree. Let's have a look at the instructions."

"Yep. It says here: Boxes CRLXP-400 through CRLXP-429 must be picked up at… but it's not the correct address."

"So what? It belongs to the company. Get a grip."


In the box Sandra had heard something. She could not hear everything clearly, but she suspected that she had made a dangerous mistake. She raised her manacled arms to remove her gag. To her horror she found that she could not raise her arms high enough. The box was too narrow for her to do much of anything. She tried to cry out, and she knocked at the sides and the lid.

"Something's in the box."

"Sure. It says here: Contents - live animals."

She could feel that her box was lifted into a truck or lorry. Then the truck drove somewhere - and stopped. She sensed that the truck was being filled with a lot of other boxes. She was really scared now. But still she could not get that damn gag off.

After an hour she felt that the box swayed slowly. What was going on? It felt as if the box was being tied to a lot of other boxes. Why? Half an hour or so later the boxes were transferred to something else. A new acceleration. Everything moved like she was in an airplane. Was she being transported overseas?

In a way it was funny. She would have a hell of a problem convincing people that she was just an ordinary American girl with a self-bondage problem. It would be embarrassing, but - so what? She would have laughed out loud - but the gag muffled everything.

Something moved. It rumbled. Suddenly - she dropped - fast. She was in free fall. Her stomach revolted. She made an effort to keep from vomiting. She knew that it might kill her. On the other hand -she had to accept that she was dead. What the hell had happened?

A terrible tug stopped the fall. She was bruised by now. But better that, than dead. A terrible crash gave her some more bruises. She felt that she was on solid ground. But still locked in that damn crate. She hoped that someone would open it soon.


Finally. She was blinded by the light. She heard some words that she did not recognize. Where was she? She removed her gag at once. "Where am I?"

A thin man in rags said: "Je ne comprend pas."

"Do you know anybody who speaks English?" She repeated, "English?"

"Moment." The man must have understood. He stood up and yelled something that she didn't catch. She tried to stand. She had trouble keeping her balance. Her high heeled shoes did not go well with the uneven ground.

A stocky man approached them. "I speak English. Just call me Jack." He spoke with some accent, but she understood him clearly enough. "Where am I?"

"You are on an island in the Atlantic Ocean."

"Oh. I must get back to my husband."

"That might be problematic."


"This island is used only for male prisoners who have been sentenced to life imprisonment."

"Oh, no."

"We are fifty men - give or take. We haven't seen a woman in years."

Two men came up to them. They seemed to be leaders of this community. They asked Jack something.

"Let me look at your collar."

"Oh, this? This is just for play between my husband and me."

Jack eyed her strangely and translated for the others. They talked together a lot.

"These two men are our leaders, and they are really surprised that they have sent a female prisoner."

"But I am not a prisoner. I just told you that this collar is just a toy."

"Some solid toy." He sounded doubtful. "Let me look at those cuffs."

She tried to avoid his scrutiny, but he was far too strong.

"I see. SLUT and HOOKER. These are also for play?"


He talked to the leaders. They talked among themselves.

Jack translated. "They say that you must be a convicted hooker. They must have sentenced you to life imprisonment but sent you to this island by mistake. That's a mistake that we really appreciate. When the guys hear that we have a hooker, they'll all line up."

"I'm NOT a hooker." Sandra was close to desperation now.

"I see - who put these chains on you?"

"I did it myself."


"It pleases me."

"How do you get them off?"

"I can't. My husband has the keys."

He just glared at her. He did not believe her at all.

"Well. If it pleases you to wear that collar and that chain, we'd be happy to welcome you to this island. We appreciate a hooker. At least thirty of us would like to have your company."

"But I must get back."


"I was flown in, wasn't I?"

"By an airplane that has no way of landing on this island."

"How do they fly convicts here?"

"By plane. They train the convicts lightly in a parachute. Then they drop them from an altitude of one mile. We - the convicts I mean - rarely have accidents. It's been years since someone was killed. Pigs, chickens, other live animals, seeds, and other necessities are dropped by parachute from a lower altitude - like you were. That plane comes from the US. America is far closer than France."

"How do you survive?"

"Like I said - we get a yearly supply of live animals. We'll have to care for those and live off the land. Water is not a problem on this island. The parachutes are used for making clothes."

"Yearly supply? The plane comes here only once a year? But I can't stay here for a year."

"How could you avoid it?"

"I could build a boat."

"We have very few trees on this island. These boxes here are useless for making boats," he paused, "and we have very few tools. And if you happened to succeed - the boat would be smashed against the rocks that surround the entire island."

"Don't you have an inspection by a boat? Don't you have a radio?" She was panicking.

"No radio. A ship could never approach this island. It would be wrecked on the rocks - as I said before."

"I guess that I didn't mention that these waters teem with sharks."

"I must get back to my husband."

"Don't worry. You have a lot more husbands here. We'll also look out for the kids."

"Kids? What kids?"

"Yours - and ours. If you have ten husbands visit you every day, you'll have kids in a very short time."

"Our economy does not allow…"

She stopped. She could hear that it sounded stupid. Ten husbands? Per day?

"What do I do?"

"I suggest that you get used to the situation. We could break the chain between your hands with a hammer, and those weird shoes could come off with the help of a knife or a saw. But you are going to wear the collar and the cuffs here for the rest of your life."


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