A contented sigh escaped my lips as I sank down into the steamy lavender-scented bubbles. Peace. Silence. Solitude. Just me and the water and the afternoon sun streaming through the window. And my fingers.
Dropping down to part-time from my busy job as Events Coordinator for a major fundraising firm was one of the best things I ever did. My job was fulfilling but stressful, and lately it had been wearing me out. Now that our son James was away at college, I wanted some time to focus on me and get back to some of my hobbies. My sewing machine was probably seized up and atrophied from lack of use and my garden was starting to look like one large and scary weed. My husband was supportive of my decision – his position as senior partner afforded us many luxuries without need for my income – but he didn’t know about my new hobby, which was the real reason I wanted to be home every afternoon.
As I played with myself in the hot, frothy water, I let my thoughts wander in anticipation of the coming events of the afternoon. Thinking about it made me wet in ways the water couldn’t, and after spending some time getting myself more and more excited, I came to my senses and realized I had better slow down and wait.
I slowly shaved my legs to ensure they were silk smooth before I turned to my bikini area, which looked like a Brazilian bombshell by the time I was done. When I was satisfied with the job, I got out and dried off, lingering a little longer than necessary on my nether regions. I was still excited from my earlier adventure in the bath and had to remind myself once again to hold off. Getting excited was good. Getting off early generally made things more difficult later on.
I grabbed my favorite Egyptian Cotton robe. The smooth feel of it against my flushed skin made me feel sexy, as did the fact that it barely covered my round, plump tushie, which was kept shapely by a consistent jogging schedule, despite the fact that I had been flung unceremoniously into my forties a few years prior.
As I gathered the things I would need for my afternoon adventure, I thought back to the events that brought me here. My husband Gary is a sweetheart. He loves me dearly and would do anything for me. But my sexual appetite has always been heartier than his, and while I always managed to stay somewhat satisfied in our love life, lately that had been proving more difficult, made worse by the fact that these days he was having a hard time just getting it up.
Our differences started to become more apparent after I stumbled on a movie while surfing the TV late one night. It was just a bit of light bondage, but it was enough to make me instantly wet.
After that, I was hooked. I searched for stories, photos and videos online. I couldn’t get enough of them, but soon they were no longer sufficient. I needed to experience it for myself. I don’t know why I had never thought about it before – after all, I was pushing 40 – but now that I knew it existed, I simply had to be a part of it. I craved being tied up and helpless and made to do whatever I was told.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t get Gary on board. He gave it the old college try for my sake, but his heart wasn’t in it and I soon got frustrated with his lackluster attempts at loose knots and half-hearted commands, no matter how good his intentions were.
Which brings me to where I am now, which is trying to fulfill my submissive desires through self-bondage. It took me a while to iron out the kinks, but it’s much better than the frustration I felt at Gary’s hands. And now that I was only working in the mornings, I had several hours each afternoon to devote to my new craft. There was no denying that I was missing out on a big part of what appealed to me in the first place, which was being dominated and humiliated, but my fantasies filled the gaps enough that I still found it quite satisfying.
I hauled my ever-growing collection of BDSM gear to the bed and took stock. I’d been perfecting my tying techniques over the last few months and decided to get several lengths of rope out for today’s session.
I started by grabbing my favorite butt plug. I looked at it and changed my mind, opting for a larger one that had been shipped to me recently, but that I had yet to use because it was bigger than it appeared on the computer screen when I ordered its, and its large size scared me. I had it now and I might as well make use of it. I lubed it up and took my time slowly inserting it into my tightly puckered ass, drawing it out, then back in to allow my body to get used to the stretching I was putting it through. My breath caught in my throat as the full impact of its size was realized. I almost changed my mind but I decided to stick with it. I finally worked the entire thing into my anus, the girth of it filling me completely. Hmmm. Not sure if I’m going to like this one. Oh well, it’s in now, I reasoned as I shifted around uncomfortably. Time to make sure it doesn’t go anywhere.
I grabbed a length of rope and tied it snugly around my waist, circling around my back and doubling back to my midsection. I tied a knot in front before feeding both ends of the rope between my legs, then over the rope behind my back and through my legs once again. I pulled the rope tightly so that not only was my butt plug pressed firmly into my ass, but the ropes were digging nicely into my labia. I took a little walk around the room, savoring the feeling I got from the rope rubbing against my moist pussy with each step I took. These seductive sensations didn’t stop me from squirming against the disagreeable reminder of the rather large butt plug now firmly wedged between my cheeks, however.
Next I took a long length of rope and fed it strategically around my torso, creating a complicated web that encased my breasts nicely while causing them to swell out around the tightly knit ropes.
I looked in the mirror. So far so good, but the work was far from over. With the constant reminder of my over-filled backside, I grabbed a small vibrator and turned it on low before inserting it in my increasingly wet sex. It slid in easily and I enjoyed the vibrations as I tucked it under my crotch rope, satisfied it wasn’t going anywhere.
I brought my remaining supplies over to the bed as I would soon be unable to travel far: my gag, my leather wrist and ankle cuffs, the frozen time-lock and my blindfold.
I then took my time cinching each ankle to its respective thigh, tightly immobilizing my legs in a permanent bend.
It was time for the finishing touches. I opened my mouth wide to accommodate a hard penis gag, which I then strapped tightly around the back of my head. I cuffed my ankles together, checking to make sure they were fastened securely. I put on my wrist cuffs and made sure I would easily be able to strap them behind my back without the use of my vision.
Darkness encompassed me as I secured the blindfold into place. This always made things a bit tricky, but I loved the sensory deprivation that having no vision created, so it was worth a bit of bumping around to complete the rest of my bondage.
I put my hands behind my back, fumbled around with my ankle cuffs and the locking mechanism, and soon had myself stuck in a severe hogtie. Lastly, I rolled onto my side to alleviate some of the pressure I would invariably feel from being tied for roughly two hours.
I shuddered slightly as I let the feeling of helplessness wash over me. In the past, I had always strategically placed a pair of scissors just within reach, but it never felt authentic enough, knowing I could escape at any time. My recent purchase of a self-bondage time lock, however, was just the thing I needed to feel truly bound and helpless. I simply had to fill it with water and pop it in the freezer, and the time it took the water to melt and unlock meant that I had approximately two hours of vulnerability where I couldn’t help myself even if the house was burning down around me. Not very comforting when I put it that way, but it was worth the risk.
I let my thoughts take me away. Today I was a foreign exchange student, kidnapped as soon as my plane landed overseas. Turns out my host found the business of sex slavery far more exciting than mere room and board.
I was bound and helpless, while being given the conditions of my stay: I would be his personal slave and I would cater to his every whim if I ever wanted to go back to America and see my family again. If I agreed to this, I would get to go home after my allotted one year stay. If I caused him grief, he would sell me into slavery to a wealthy man who didn’t care about my comfort or well-being, where I would be forced to please him and his many business associates in whatever way caught their twisted fancy.
I was thankful my vibrator was on low as I wanted to hold out for as long as possible. This was becoming increasingly difficult to do, particularly when my fantasy continued to carry me to a magical and mystical world of complete and utter helplessness at the hands of a depraved sex maniac.
I was so caught up in pretending my hogtie and huge ass plug were punishment for not addressing my new master in a manner befitting a lowly slave that I didn’t hear the door until it was clearly too late, though in my trussed up state it wouldn’t have made a difference. I froze, but one would be hard pressed to tell in my current state of helplessness.
My high level of embarrassment seemed to match Gary’s, who obviously didn’t know I was home and was too stunned to say anything after catching me in such an uncompromising position. I tried to speak but the large penis wedged tightly between my teeth prevented anything more than muffled sounds and drool. My two hour bondage lock went from being my best friend to my worst enemy. When the door closed, I surmised that Gary went to get a pair of scissors. I could do nothing but wait for him to return. I thought of trying to come up with a plausible excuse, but it wouldn’t matter what I said – the kinky writing was on the wall.
With nothing left to do, I tried to relax my body, knowing this very well may be the last time I got to disappear into my self-bondage fantasy world now that I had been found out. Although my situation wasn’t ideal, I couldn’t seem to help myself, and before long my thoughts drifted back to my original fantasy. The low vibrations coming from between my tightly bound legs began to excite me once again, causing me to moan and writhe in uncomfortable contentment.
It dawned on me that Gary should have been back with the scissors by now. Where was he? Was he so disgusted with me that he left? He was supposed to be at work today, so maybe he just forgot something and went back to work after retrieving it, leaving me to sweat all afternoon in anticipation of the inevitable and uncomfortable conversation we would no doubt be having tonight. I didn’t blame him for leaving; if the roles were reversed, I would probably need time to collect my thoughts as well.
As I paused to mull these scenarios around in my head, I thought I heard a slight sound coming from the corner of the room. I froze to listen, but I heard nothing more. I settled in to finish out my session, although it had been interrupted so many times that I wasn’t sure I would be able to recover.
I was trying to get back into the groove when I felt something touch my skin. It was ever so light, but I was sure I wasn’t imagining things. Was he still here?
Another caress. Oh my god. He must have never left! Which meant he saw me not only bound and helpless, but thoroughly enjoying it!
I didn’t know what to do next. The obvious answer was nothing, because I was tied and helpless and at his mercy. What did his touch mean? I stilled my body to see – or more accurately, feel – what he would do next.
I waited for what seemed like an impossibly long time. Then I felt a breeze on my nipple; he was blowing ever so lightly, causing a chill to travel down my spine. He then rolled my now-hard nipple between his fingers gently and seductively. A quick and hard squeeze followed, which made me jump from the sudden sensation.
I felt something wet and warm on the other one. I sighed behind the gag as his tongue made circles around one hardening nipple while his fingers caressed the other one.
I forgot my previous fantasy and started enjoying my reality. Being bound and helpless has always turned me on. Add to that the soft caresses my nipples were receiving, plus the vibrator doing its job and I was in heaven and close to being pushed over the edge. Ouch! Another painful pull on each nipple brought me back to reality, yet simultaneously excited me simultaneously.
I could feel myself getting closer and closer to orgasm. There were so many sensations I was experiencing that I felt like I was on sensory overload. I felt him touch my wet crotch and I knew that I would soon be over the edge. Instead of caressing me, however, I felt him reach through my crotch rope and remove my vibrator. I wriggled in protest, trying to communicate that removing it right now was not a good idea; I was so close to having an orgasm and his unceremonious removal of my source of pleasure brought any hope of climaxing to a grinding halt.
I writhed and wriggled, still trying to broadcast my displeasure, all to no avail. I finally clued in that struggling wasn’t going to help my situation, and I willed my body to stop squirming, despite the frustration I was feeling. Having no other options, I lay there waiting for him to touch me again, and just when I was losing all hope, a pressure on my butt plug made me jump.
I groaned inwardly as his touch reminded me that I went a little overboard in the back-end department. His relentless wiggling and pressure changes kept me focused and in the present, so when he unexpectedly grazed my clitoris with his fingers, the sensation simultaneously made me suck in my breath in surprise and get even more turned on than I already was. Damn, Gary, where have you been all my life?
I was putty in his hands as he caressed me with an increasingly steady pressure. He continued to aggravate my ass by moving around my plug, sliding it in and out as much as the rope would allow him, and while at first it served to impede my concentration, soon I was so lost in his touches that it all merged together to create feelings of pain and pleasure and a mounting ecstasy that I could never achieve on my own. In another minute I would be in the throes of a very powerful orgasm. He stroked me faster and faster and I was so caught up in coming that I didn’t even think about the fact that he might deny me once again. But he did, and I was left high and dry. Well, high and wet actually, and wanting more.
Maybe this was his way of punishing me for finding me tied up the way he did. I realized that fighting my bonds to get my point across was as useless as I currently was, so I lay still, my sweat-glistened body heaving while I tried to catch my breath and collect myself.
I waited, sure he would touch me again. Sure enough, he started teasing my clitoris with the vibrator he extracted from me. Low and slow, the vibrations were bringing me closer and closer to climax. With all the prior withholding, it didn’t take long for me to reach the point of no return, but each time it happened, he backed off just in time to cause me extreme frustration and aggravation.
This went on for a while and I knew by the time he let me come, it would be a good thing I was gagged or the neighbors might be concerned.
Relentlessly he teased me, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. He backed off again. Panting and glistening with sweat, I waited for him to let me finally finish. I waited some more. And then more. Finally my breathing slowed to a normal pace and I was keenly aware of the silence that greeted me. Sure I would feel his touch at any minute, I braced myself for the inevitable wave of pleasure that would wash over me. But it never came. Disappointment sunk in as I realized he was gone.
What seemed like hours passed, and I finally heard the audible “click” of the self locking timer as it released me from my self-made prison. I undid my wrists with the speed and accuracy of skilled and practiced woman, whipped my blindfold off and started unbuckling my gag, ready to both praise Gary for turning me on more than I have ever been in my entire life and give him hell for withholding what I now felt I needed like a drug.
It only took me a split second to quickly scan the room and see that he wasn’t there, however. “Gary?” I called, somewhat tentatively. No answer. I called louder, “Gary!” Had he really left?
I undid my bonds as quickly as I could, removed the plug with a wince, donned my robe and headed downstairs, not caring that the wide open windows would afford the neighbors a nice view of my barely covered battered ass.
It didn’t take long to confirm my suspicions, however; he was gone. I sat down with an exasperated sigh and thought about what I should do. What I really wanted to do was release all that built up tension in the form of an earth shattering orgasm, but Gary obviously didn’t want me to for a reason. Was he playing the part of master dominating his slave? Or maybe he figured it wasn’t fair that I got to come with titanic force and he didn’t? That didn’t make much sense. Surely he could have done whatever he wanted to me. Not only would I have been helpless to stop it, but I would have welcomed it. Sure, the position wasn’t conducive to great sex, but he could have untied me or repositioned me at the very least. After looking at all the angles, I came to the conclusion that he wanted to wait until tonight. Wanted to prep me, get me hot and bothered and have a mind-blowing fuck like we hadn’t had in a long while. Admittedly, I wasn’t always overly horny when it came to sex with Gary, but I sure as hell was now. And as hard as it was, I decided to wait until tonight, figuring it could only serve to make things more exciting.
Kept In The Dark by Lucy Hannon
Sharlene is a typical dissatisfied wife with an atypical penchant for self bondage. Each day she elaborately ties herself, escaping with the help of a time-lapse key. She’s quite satisfied with her naughty kink, until one day she her secret is revealed when she’s caught bound, gagged, blindfolded and helpless in her bedroom. Her unknown assailant teases and torments her before leaving her high and dry and wanting more.
Each afternoon, she waits in anticipation, but he will only play with her when she is blindfolded, leaving her to wonder who he is. She soon begins to see him as her master, as he pushes her to more extremes than she ever imagined, including a chastity belt that she is locked in for days, a spanking that brings her to tears, a butt-plug of eye-watering size, and positions that would make a marathon look easy.She is forced to orgasm and forced to the edge of orgasm with no relief. She is used and degraded, gagged, whipped and humiliated, but through it all, she keeps coming back for more.
Who is her mysterious master? Is it her successful husband? The rich and attractive businessman she can’t keep her eyes off every time they meet? The cable guy or a wayward neighbor? Or someone else entirely?When he finally offers to reveal himself, he gives her an ultimatum. Will she accept his demands to find out the truth of his identity?
Includes spanking, servitude, bondage, submissive training, punishment, anal play and more, with a touch of mystery interwoven into a story of love, romance, longing and desire.