Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories


by Jackie Rabbit

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2015 - Jackie Rabbit - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; F/f; store; cuffs; tease; sbf; outdoors; naked; handcuffs; legirons; chain; rail; steel; machine; mast; climax; cons; X

WARNING Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy only, to attempt this in real life may result in injury or death.  

I was fortunate to live near enough to a train's spur line used for parking freight cars, actually fortune had little to do with it as I selected this rental specifically. It wasa somewhat short hike over the mountain from my present house, close enough to hear the train's impossibly loudhorns when the wind was right, but unfortunately far enough away that I couldn'tfeel the rumble of their passage there. I had grown up near a set of heavily used tracks, their rumble becoming a common and welcome sound at night that might have disturbed the sleep of most normal people.

I have no idea what exactly drew me to the trains, whether it was their powerful rumble that could shake the very earth with their passage if heavily loaded with cargo, or if of the passenger type was it that they could magically take you from where you were to where you wanted to be? The latter was a passive and unstoppable trip to your destination, (if you bought passage on the correct one), and a true adventure if you didn't. I had done both, and it wouldn't be a stretch to say that my experience while riding the great iron beasts was nearly erotic from my perspective.

It wasn't that I wanted to necessarily make love on a moving train, (although I'm sure that would be fun), I just loved trains, somewhat platonically at the moment however. I had gone to a museum once to see the old lovingly restored ones roped off so no one could touch their greasy under parts, but had yet to get close enough to touch the working mechanical beast's heavy iron underparts parts when it was safe to do so. In my mind the museum pieces were like caged animals at the zoo, (or possibly stuffed ones instead from some big gamehunter's collection), and as a result I yearned to get close enough to touch the real and dangerous free ones.


The spur line was close enough to my present place of residence to hike to, and could afford me the opportunity to get to know the objects of my desire better in an up close and personal way without the inherent risk of hanging around a big city rail yard. The spur track was as private as such a thing can be in every direction but down the empty curving tracks, so much so that no one, including myself, could drive past on any road to see if there were any cars parked there, for me just about nirvana all things considered.

I had no specific intentions for the great iron beasts other than to touch them intimately, but at the same time I realized it would be rude not to at least allow for the possibility for them to reciprocate. Great iron wheels, in my opinion, held immobile on their steel rails for my curious and intrusive inspection demanded an equal potential commitment from myself.

Could I be held in their presence in similar restraint without risk of becoming their unwitting victim if they should decide to move? I knew it was imperative that steel would be involved, inflexible, unyielding steel, at least unyielding to any force I could apply. I already owned a pair of very real handcuffs for self play, and it would be easy to take those along with me in my pack should the opportunity present itself. Still the iron beast's commitment seemed greater than my potential one if I should have the courage to act on my desires. Were they not bound to each other front to back by their massive steel couplings, as well as held firm to the tracks by their noisy brakes when parked?

A trip to the big city on a commuter train to make this next purchase seemed almost poetic, and I swore that the conductor gave me a special look as if he knew what I was all about when he punched my ticket. Could he just suspect that I liked to ride the iron beasts somewhat innocently, or could he possibly know what I was on my way to purchase, and more importantly why?

I used the same lame excuse that I did on my previous visit to the special store, (that I needed an item for my prisoner costume). I doubted I fooled the nice ladies either time, and this one directed me to the section I was looking for just as her counterpart did last time.

...That firsttime it had been a pair of S&W police handcuffs formy very realistic prisoner costume, (I had lied),and as the store was empty the woman encouraged me to try them on for comfort as she had explained that some are shaped differently than others.

I first thought to put them on in front of me as she watched, although no real prisoner would put their own cuffs on under any circumstance. She corrected my efforts after I got the first cuff closed in front, but she then showed me how the mechanism could be set so as not to tighten itself should I bump it "accidentally". With this she told me she well knew what I might be doing with my new toys without actually saying so, and further wanted me to be careful not to injure my wrists with them.

I thanked her for the education and her concern, and she then bade me to put my arms behind my back properly to finish the job.With some effort I closed the second cuff on my wrist, making myself somewhat helpless in this near strangers presence. That first feeling of restraint and helplessness in steel cuffs felt almost as magical as my interest in trains, and the two were forever linked in my mind as it was a train that brought me to this place. The woman looked at my eyes before she spoke, I not able to hide the feeling I was getting from the cuffs firm embrace, I suspecting she had seen it before once or twice.

"Are they comfortable?" the nice woman in charge of my freedom asked, for I realized she was now holding the keys for me.

I told her they were, and she jokingly told me I could take them home for a dollar if I liked them.

I knew there was a catch, both by her playful smile, and the seventy five dollar tag clearly on the shelf over the other S&W cuffs.

Picking up on the playful demeanor of this apparently like minded soul and not feeling at all threatened, I asked what the catch was.

"You might want to purchase the keys from me as well, assuming I don't loose them first."

It was a good sales ploy, and I suspected if I had asked she would have let me go anyway. I wanted the cuffs no matter what as they had a rather awesome effect on me, and this playfulness made a potentially humiliating situation into an adventure. It also didn't escape my notice that I had quite naturally placed this near stranger in a position over my own, even though I was the customer.

"You aren't going to make me attempt to complete the transaction while wearing them before you sell me the keys, are you?" I asked. I was hoping she would, I enjoying this little challenge I had given myself.

"If you can buy them while cuffed, and then take them off yourself with the key, I will knock ten percent of the price" she offered.

It was a deal, and a challenge, and as the store was empty on this wet Tuesday night she seemed like she wanted to have some fun at my expense and make a sale at the same time. I struggled with my pocketbook while sitting on the floor with my hands pinned behind me, found the dollar she had asked for first, then had to go back for another bill forgetting about the tax. With receipt in hand I then inquired about the key, she telling me the keys were sixty dollars, far less than they should have been even with my discount for struggling. I dug out the bills, leaving extra for the tax this time, just about exhausted by getting up and down so many times while cuffed. The cuffs were starting to dig in as well, comfortable or not.

She held the keys aloft for me to grab with an "I've got you" smile, I realizing why when I discovered I had put the cuffs on with the keyhole facing the wrong way, a true novice's mistake. I could still theoretically remove them on my own, but it wouldn't be easy exhausted as I was.

"That is the proper way a cop would put them on a suspect under arrest, but if you intend to take them off of yourself you must turn them around, or enlist the help of a friend."

I smiled back at the woman. "How much would it cost for you to open these for me new friend of mine?" I asked playfully, having learned a lesson in self preservation that could be priceless.

She then took the keys from my hand and opened the cuffs for me instead of bartering from an obvious position of strength, "I would like to see you back here in one piece, this ones for free."

I thanked the woman that day and took my discounted purchase and keys, (and free education) and left, telling her I would be back...

I kept that promise when I had walked in that second time looking for a pair of hobbles, (called leg irons on the package), knowing they could bind me end to end just like the coupled iron beasts. Once directed to the proper section by the employee on that night I found a single pair that looked like it would work, the cuffs certainly big enough to go over my blue jeans, but my bare legs were much smaller. I had pondered just buying a second pair of hand cuffs for my ankles originally, but while trying them on my ankles at home I found the shape of the cuff itself bit in painfully. I had all I could do to keep my balance on my level bedroom floor with the cuffs on my ankles as well, my feet held just a little close together for stability, let alone movement.

Wearing the hobbles I would be able to either hop, or take short fourteen inch steps away from danger, or even to my keys if I should wish to leave them out of my reach for an additional challenge. The lady on duty that night was all business however, and I realized there would be no discount for any ordeal I might wish to perform this time. I paid the bill and took my purchase home with the bag stuffed into my pocketbook, again on the train, and the occasional jingle of the hobbles' connecting chain on that trip making me smile.

At home I stripped down to try them out for real, finding them loose my bare ankles even on the last notch. I couldn't necessarily slip out of them, but it wasn't the firm feeling of steel restraint that I had in mind either. I then had a kind of epiphany, what if I cut up some old thick winter socks and put the tube part on my ankles to bulk them up? I tried this and it worked better that I expected, doing the same for my wrists to cushion them for my more vigorous struggling sessions.

Hiding the cuff's bite marks had always been a chore when I played alone, and as a result I couldn't struggle as much as I might like in the heat of the moment, even in the privacy on my bedroom. Still a bound orgasm beat just about any other self inflicted one for me, and with this new discovery they could only get better.

With the logistics worked out I planned my hike not knowing if my mechanical beasts would be home or not, but just a chance to visit where they parked would still be wonderful even if they were out working. With my car safely in my driveway nobody would knowI was snooping about either, and I anticipated having the place to myself one way or the other. The day was forecast to be warm, and I wore a pair of yoga shorts and a tank top somewhat provocatively with my sneakers, then packed several bottles of water and my cuffs in my pack, and set out.

In my mind I was on a naughty adventure, and I was prepared to do all sorts of things if the mood hit me, or nothing at all but look about if it didn't. In any event I was pretty worked up by the time I got to the tracks from my starting point in my back yard knowing I had my cuffs with me, the tracks being empty however. The first touch of that cold rail sent a shiver through my belly though, it was one thing to see them at a rail crossing or at the station, but in neither case does one touch them with a bare hand and linger about as I now could.

The stop at the very end of the gently curving tracks was a strong "A" frame, there to prevent the cars from being driven off of the tracks accidentally and into the ravine behind. It's iron and riveted strength excited me, and I could imagine myself naked and chained to it by some nefarious character in a perils of Pauline kind of way while facing the iron beasts as they were parked. The concept excited me, but to actually be cuffed to the immovable "A" frame seemed unwise if the train cars should make their way back before I could work the locks and regain my freedom.

Once I was certain I was alone I stripped out of the little I was wearing on an impulse just to try out the position of my fantasy peril, keeping my sneakers on for the moment however as the elevated rail bed was made up of some rather large and sharp stones that this tenderfoot didn't want to walk up on. I placed my clothes in the bag containing everything I had brought with me and tossed it off to the left side of the empty tracks, I intended to at least stand with my butt up against the rusty track stop with my hands behind me as if bound there.

It was very erotic to be nude and poised as I was in the bright sunlight, I feeling very exposed as the two tracks before me curved out of sight into the wood line, but my body still craved more of this teasing foreplay. I then kicked my sneakers off and stood with one bare foot on the inside of each rusty cold rail, my legs spread nearly to the limit of my flexibility as if I were an obscene sacrificial offering to the track riding beasts. I then held my wrists intertwined in the mass of iron now over my head with my body lowered as it was by my splayed leg position. I pretended my limbs were chained into position by some man with bad intentions as I struggled, this foreplay getting the best of my sanity as I needed still more, my belly tingling with desire.

It would have been a simple thing to do the deed to myself right there over and over again, and to then go home sore and sated, but my track riding beasts might not have approved of my transgressions. It was imperative for me that they be involved in my lust and resulting satisfaction in a more physical way.

I held no misconceptions about escaping the very real steel bindings I had brought along with me in the real world however, and therefore they weren't to be taken lightly. If I couldn't reach the key, or if I could and then dropped it out of reach I wouldn't be going anywhere until someone found me. I was in a remote location, and there was little evidence that anybody had been about except myself and the railroad people, so discovery by a friendly soul was unlikely at best.

Just to act out another perils of Pauline type scenario I retrieved my bag after slipping into my sneakers, and I put my hobbles on with the socks underneath and latched them tight while siting on one of the rails with my bare butt. I loved the way they felt on me, and naked in the sun while wearing a hobble did little to dampen my excitement.

Next I put my cuffs on my wrists in front of me, (again with the socks underneath), and with the keys safely in my bag I tossed it again toward the left of the tracks. I then hobbled up the tracks in search of the perfect spot, then laid across the tracks instead and wiggled my butt around until my neck was right on the shiny rail with my ankles just laying over the other one as I had seen in countless cartoons growing up, except in them the young lady was never so exposed as I. I also realized that those cartoon women from my youth had to have been quite tall, because I had to stretch to put my neck on one rail and my ankles on the other at the same time, where they apparently didn't.

I had moved up the track some distance not only in search of the smoothest tie to place my bare body, but to where the wheels of the various cars had obviously been recently, the track looking like polished chrome instead of rusty iron as it had been back at the track stop where I first stood barefoot. I then put my cuffed hands over my head to get totally into my helplessness as I absorbed the bright sunlight wondering what it would have been like to have been captured and bound thusly back in the day. Despite the crick in my neck as the rail was quite a bit higher than they look at the crossings, I was almost comfortable enough to nap like this, but again that would have been very unwise even though I wasn't bound to the tracks, just laying on them.

I knew I would likely feel the rail rumble and vibrate underneath me before the slow moving train had a chance to run me over, but who wants to take a chance like that. There was also the possibility that when parking these beasts an engineer with a radio would be riding the last car to guide the men up front driving the engines to the stop, and there he could possibly see me in time to stop the slow moving train before it ran over me. Another possibility was that he would be in time to see me jumping up and hobbling away if I felt the train first. In that case I would be an easy catch naked and hobbled as I was, and while that would be an adventure one way or another, (I was technically trespassing), I lusted for trains and not men, although the men who drove trains couldn't be all bad.

I then got up, with some difficulty with my hands cuffed in front of me positioned as I was, thankful I didn't wait until I had to get up in a hurry to find this out. The crick in my neck gave me an idea though, and I hobbled to my bag to fetch the key and unlock my handcuffs from a single wrist, I then packing the key away once again and tossing my bag out of sight. I needed to ride the rail a little more intimately once before I hiked back home, but still bound in a way that I could get off of it and hobble away should the need arise.

I daydreamed while hobbling up the rail bed a little further, this time in search of the perfect spot, (as it turned out quite a bit up from where I tossed my bag), and with the aid of my hands on the rail in front of me I gingerly got down straddling the iron rail intimately with one leg on either side of it where the track bed stones had shifted from between the rail ties. The chain of my hobbles went over the track rail I was straddling, and my feet were held aloft on either side of that rail behind me high enough to remind me deliciously of the cuffs encircling and trapping my ankles.

Were I was kneeling on the ties themselves the position would have been easier, but my knees didn't touch the sharp stones that had shifted away from between the ties by design, and the pressure on my womanhood where it ground up against the shiny rail feeling rather wonderful. My uncuffed hands still bore a good portion of my weight where they held the rail in front of me, my balance also somewhat precarious as my body wanted to topple over forward should I lift my hands from the rail.

Lust was driving me along at the time, that mindless instinct to scratch that particular kind of itch no matter the consequences. I decided in my lustful hunger that if I couldn't make love to a train car because there were none about, grinding on one of their tracks to achieve my goals while naked and bound by unyielding steel seemed like a close second.

As with many things, the position I had intended was not as easy to achieve in the flesh as it was in my mind, I wanting to cuff my wrists behind my back to "force" myself into harsher contact with the rail as I rocked about in search of my goal. I couldn't take both my hands from the rails without falling either forward, or to the side however.

If both wrist cuffs had been closed about my wrists I would have had to be satisfied with riding the rail as I was, but they weren't. I then pinched the cold rail as tightly as I could between my thighs, discovering some nasty black grease at their base that had no doubt dripped from the trains massive wheels at some point. This held me stable left to right though, (although I paid a price with the grease getting smeared about the inside of my bare thighs), but at the same time ramping up my lust clenching those particular muscles as I was.

I then reached my free hand behind me and bent back as far as I could and grabbed my hobble chain, lifting at my ankles and stopping me from falling forward. It was an almost sitting hog tie, but I was at least able to hold myself upright and free my other hand from the rail in front of me with the chains help. The pressure on my womanhood and pelvic bone was even greater, almost to the point of pain, and I was quite tempted to just grind away like this and finish the job. I then thought if I could hold the hobble chain behind me with a finger or two of my free hand I could then use the others to close the open cuff about my wrist, careful not to wrap the cuffs chain behind the hobble's hog tying me in place until the train came.

I thought even with my wrists cuffed behind me I could still roll off of the tracks and hobble away to safety if necessary, I was in fact just struggling to keep my balance and not to do so by accident. Closing the cuff about my free wrist was a chore, and I ended up pressing everything against one of my ankles to get it done. The position was wonderful, and I struggled and perspired through a wonderful orgasm, ...and then another, ...and then one more with sweat running into my eyes and stinging them closed. I couldn't wipe my eyes with my cuffed hands, and when I tried to use my shoulder to wipe them instead they only got worse, matting some of my hair into them as well.

Closing my eyes reduced the burning, and I could just imagine the picture I would make if somebody should happen by. How long was I perched on that rail while savoring my restraint? I lost track of time so I have no idea.

With eyes closed my imagination ran rampant though, or so I thought when I felt another tremor promising still another big "O". It was the smallest of feelings, felt by the most sensitive flesh I have pressed up against the track rail itself, it feeling more like a heavy truck driving by until I realized there were no roads close enough.

The rail had become nearly impossible to keep pinched between my exhausted thigh muscles, my legs slick with sweat and some other things freely flowing about my lower body. I didn't panic though, quite the opposite in fact. How far away could the slow moving train be, and how long did I have before I had to make my escape I wondered? It was a spur line for the parking of trains, a dead end that would have to be approached slowly, and that likely meant that I had time, maybe even enough time. A loaded train would vibrate the rail I was riding far more violently that an empty one, or so I theorized, and if my heavily loaded iron lover would only cooperate with me I could have still another big "O" to cap off this amazing adventure.

"Clunk bump... clunk bump... click... I felt between my legs over and over again, but not an audible sound to be heard except for the wind ever so gently blowing. It chilled my perspiration soaked body, my buds straining to become even more erect than what was possible, almost painfully so. It was terrifyingly erotic, but the terrifying part was starting to win out three orgasms in, I having no interest in becoming my iron lovers unwitting victim, nor putting on a show and getting myself arrested if the engineers somehow managed to stop the train in time.

..."Run away and play another day" the little voice inside my head commanded, but I resisted, even though that little voice had never done me wrong yet...

I tried to make it happen still again, oh boy did I try, but it just wouldn't happen. Clunk bump... clunk bump... click my iron lover tormented just a little more aggressively, he coming ever closer and teasing me along past all reason like a devil. Where I had ground up against the tracks was feeling like a big bruise, but I held out hope that the approaching monster could still do it for me one more time like no human lover had ever managed.

...Then it happened, not the last big "O", but the wheeled beast approaching my position bellowed, or so it seemed when I heard the engineer briefly apply the noisy brakes somewhere far up the tracks. The sound broke my trance like spell, I still had time to go, but none to waste, there being no great finally this day. I never heard the engines deep rumble, but they were at the front of the long train, and it was the rear most car that was instead approaching.

I released my grip on my hobble's chain and rolled from the tracks, but on the right side with my bag somewhere down the tracks on the left. It was a mistake, but I had dallied overlong on those tracks and I feared there was no time to collect it and still hobble away and hide, the denser wood line offering a better place to hide my naked and cuffed form. Getting up while cuffed behind your back and hobbled was much harder than I ever appreciated, but with skinned knees and one elbow I managed to scamper away into the woods, I not entirely clear where I was going with my vision still clouded...

I hid in the woods like a thief, I watching the train's cars eventual approach as the ground literally shook with their passage, they loaded down with lumber for who knows where. I was close enough to see with the salt and hair finally tear rinsed from my eyes, but I hoped not so close as to be seen should somebody be looking as I hunkered down in the shade. I couldn't retreat deeper into the woods as the terrain sloped up, and climbing hobbled as I was at best risky, not to mention putting me higher in elevation and even more visible to any engineers who might be on the back of the train guiding it in. I also knew that the human eye is attracted to motion, and my best hope for escaping this little adventure unseen was to remain as still as possible.

...I was eventually able to retrieve my bag and free myself once the train was parked, that in itself another ordeal while being hobbled, cuffed, and slightly battered, but still left wondering how I could possibly top this adventure next time...

You can also leave your feedback & comments about this story on the Plaza Forum


If you've enjoyed this story, please write to the author and let them know - they may write more!
back to
selfbondage stories