Subject:      Story-"El Cid" (Part 3 of 6, "Day 2 - Self Bondage")
From:         YourSAS
Date:         1998/03/16
Newsgroups:   soc.subculture.bondage-bdsm

The following story is the result of a "scene" set forth by someone I met
online.  In developing the story, I used many of his words and phrases.
Therefore, I share any credit or criticism with him.  :)

EL CID
Part Three-- Day #2 - Self Bondage

I awaken to find him gone from beside me.  For a single panicked
moment I think that he has decided to leave without a word, but the
sounds I hear coming from the kitchen calm me immediately.  I yawn
sleepily and stretch, smiling contentedly, even as I feel my muscles and
flesh, sore from our activities the night before, cry out from the
movement.  My cunt awakens as well, and instinctively I run the fingers
of my hand down my belly and press them against the wet and slightly
swollen lips.  I want to lie there and savor the memories of our recent
passion and tenderness, but even more, I am anxious again to be with
him.

I get up and shower.  Letting the hot water cascade down my body, I
wonder if I could possibly be any happier or feel more complete.  It
seems too good to be true.  He seems too good to be true.

My shower done, I slip on a short gown, dry my hair, and then head out to
find my new Master.  He is sitting on the sofa reading the paper, a glass
of orange juice by his side.  He looks up at me, smiles, and holds out his
arm in a gesture of invitation.  "Good morning," he says, and I willingly
accept and tuck myself under his arm, snuggling next to him.  He tells me
that he has already found the bagels and low-fat cream cheese, so there is
no need to fix him anything to eat, a big breakfast isnít his style.  "Just sit
here with me awhile, j," he says.

We make small talk as we sit there leaning into one another, our hands
occasionally finding the other to stroke gently and touch.  It is an intimate
time, very different from the intensity of the night before.  It is as though
we have known each other for much longer than the few short hours that
in actuality we have.  We are no longer strangers.  And yet, underlying
these quiet moments with him is the thought of what is to happen shortly.
It passes through my mind and down through my body, a low current of
sexual energy and anticipation.  He had told me his plans in advance of
his coming.

Sure enough, and as expected, my Master says that he is leaving and that I
should prepare myself for him as he had instructed in our previous
correspondence.

"Do you understand what it is you are to do, j?" he asks.
"Yes, Sir," I answer, feeling the low current from before become a rush
of excitement inside me.  He kisses me tenderly, and gets up to leave.  I
watch his back as he goes through the door with mixed emotions.  Fear,
arousal, joy, unease, curiosity, anticipation--all of them swirl inside my
head and heart, and I canít help but marvel at his easy ability to evoke
such powerful feelings inside me.

I dress in a forest green teddy, transparent in spite of the richness of color,
and pull on sheer, flesh-toned thigh-high stockings.  I walk into the living
room and see the length of chain hanging from the ceiling eyebolts where
I was whipped, displayed, tormented, and where I submitted my first
climax to my Master just the night before.  Was it only the night before?
It seems like longer ago than that, so much has transpired between us
since then.

I am a little nervous about what Iím to do, but his patient and sensitive
manner with me has dispelled any of the feelings of dread and insecurity I
initially had the night before.  He has given me the confidence to
continue.  Sitting in the chair Iíve placed beneath the eyebolt, I slowly
push the penis shaped vibrator back inside my sex.  I am wet, and it goes
in again easily, feeling warm and smooth inside me.  I secure it in place
as he has shown me.

I put on my blindfold and wrist restraints, clicking them together.  Next I
put the gag in place around my head to block out any possible sounds that
might be made.  I switch on the vibrator on low from the control looped
around the rope securing the invading "cock" in my cunt, which is already
starting to respond, even before the battery power has kicked in.  My
hands are shaking slightly, almost, it seems, in synchronization with the
low, steady hum inside my cunt.

Slowly I stand up from the chair under the eyebolt, a little weak in the
knees from the sexual rush, and reach up, stretching on tiptoes to the ring
in the chain, and link my wrist restraints to it.  I am now tightly held in
place. Restrained.  Unable to free myself.  I feel a surge of pride and
accomplishment that I have done it.  The task had seemed so daunting to
me when heíd given me the instructions, and now I had actually done it.
Maybe I will be a worthy slave to my Master after all.  But it is just the
first step, really, and I know that I must wait until he returns to either use
me or free me.  And of course I am hoping that he will do both.  I move
my feet as far apart as I can, knowing that is how he wants to see me
when he comes through the door.  Then I wait.

He has given me his permission to cum as often as I want and am able,
and my self-bondage successfully completed, I canít help but focus on my
cunt and the sensations from the vibrator.  No fantasy is necessary at all,
as my first climax comes and goes quickly.  God.  I am almost elated, I
have never been in this situation before, never imagined that I could ever
cum like this, from my own self bondage.  Again I feel a sense of pride
and accomplishment -- and gratitude as well, for how much my Master
has already taught me about myself.

My Master.  I hope he will come back soon as he promised, but he never
said exactly how long.  Just, "As soon as I leave, you are to prepare
yourself and be waiting for me as you have been told."  Iím anxious for
him to see that Iíve done what heís told me to do, exactly as heís told me
to do it.  I want so very much for him to be proud of me and pleased.  I
want to feel him close to me again.

My arms are growing tired, and tension is building in the muscles of my
stretched legs.  I try to move my feet a little closer together to relieve the
strain, but Iím unable to get the needed leverage to pull them back closer
together again.  Well,  here I am.  What now?  Itís hard enough for me to
stand still under the most ordinary of circumstances, and this is beginning
to feel a little like torture.  The incessant buzzing and tingling in my cunt
offers me a welcome distraction, and I take advantage of it.  I concentrate
on the feelings between my legs, picturing his face, his hands--his
wonderful strong hands.  I close my eyes, and I see again his cock so
hard, feel his fingers pinching and twisting my nipples, and finally I feel
the waves of contractions overtake me, and I cum, bound and suspended,
for the second time.

As the orgasm travels through me, I have no choice with my awkward
position but to lean totally on my bound hands high above me.  It passes.
I am so tired now, and every fiber in my body seems to be crying out for
some relief.  I donít have the energy left to feel any sense of
accomplishment with this last act of cumming.  I wish I could alter my
position a little.  The vibrator is no longer a welcome distraction.  My
orgasms have made me sensitive, and it relentlessly buzzes against the
walls of my vagina, sending sharp little darts of feeling out over my cunt
lips and through my clit.  Itís as though my body has been taken over by
the toy, and almost against my will I feel the third orgasm build, and take
hold of me.  It shakes me to my core, it is so powerful.  I hang there limp
against the ropes, exhausted.  I wonder how much more of this I can take,
the strain of my muscles, the unending hum in my cunt.  The old panic
from before returns and begins to rise up inside of me.  Oh, Master.
Where is he?  It seems like hours since heís been gone.  My mind seems
numbed, I lean into the ropes, resting against them as best I can.  So tired,
I am so tired.

Suddenly, as I am almost dozing from exhaustion, I hear a tearing sound
from the back of the house.  Startled from my almost sleep, I hear them.
Voices.  And they are coming toward me.

"Yeah, looks like no one is home."

Omigod!  My heart is pounding in my chest, and a burst of adrenaline
induced terror has every sense in my body on full alert.  The pain in the
muscles of my arms and legs is completely forgotten for the moment, as I
strain to hear and understand the sounds of the intruders.  Muffled
discussions.  Rustling and movement from the direction of the bedroom.
Robbers.  No.  Oh no.  How could my Master have left me here like this?
Will they see me?  I am paralyzed with fear.  And rightly so.  There, in
the room with me:

"Look here, Joe."

I scream into my gag, but no one can hear.

--to be continued.

A collaborative effort by El Cid and yoursas