Andreabound in the Hallway

Andreabound in the Hallway by Andreabound Sbf; latex; susp; slave; toys; cons; X

Part Three in the Andreabound series.

#3 Andreabound in the Hallway – Part One

Discovering my apartment has an attic has transformed my recent bondage adventures. Mostly, because I have a new space to play in that I don’t need to cover up in case I have unexpected visitors. Another advantage is the hatch to the attic provides a sturdy point for suspension bondage. As I mentioned before, I like my bondage to be strict. I need to be tied to something solid, tied tightly and tied inescapably. Suspension fulfills this need for me but until now I haven’t been able to work out how to suspend myself in the apartment.

I would have preferred an older apartment with higher ceilings and maybe a small room that I could have turned into a jail cell. But my finances would only stretch to this recently built apartment on the edge of town. I just missed getting the ground floor apartment which would have given me access to the basement but now I’d discovered the attic, I had a whole range of possibilities opened up to me.

The first time my boyfriend bound my arms behind my back with my elbows touching was a real revelation. I found I could stay that way for up to half-an-hour. Since I left him and set up house on my own, I’ve been trying to find a safe way to bind my own elbows together without help. Up to now I haven’t succeeded.

I’ve been able to put a looped strap around my elbows and attach the other end to a door handle to pull my elbows together but as soon as the pressure is released they come apart again of course. I’d thought of using something like a big zip-tie to lock my elbows together but I’ve never been able to work out how I could release them again, given that my hands are useless with my elbows tied like that.

If I could put a loop around my elbows, attach the other end to the attic hatch whilst standing on my step-stool, the loop would tighten when I step down. That might work, but I would need to kick the stool away for the bondage to be realistic and then how would I get out again? Back to square one. Perhaps I could use my detergent bag ice timer in some way to provide release but I couldn’t just attach my elbow loop to the ceiling with it as the bag and its drawstring certainly wouldn’t take my weight, even though I only weigh in at just over 110 pounds.

Then I had it. I could use the ice timer to keep my legs towards the ground so I couldn’t get back up on the stool. The bag and string might not support my full weight hanging on it but it would probably be able withstand me pulling my legs up without snapping. I work out regularly and my legs are quite strong for my size, but I reasoned my legs still couldn’t pull hard enough to break the drawstring.

First I had to find a way of actually supporting my weight using the attic hatch. A hole in the ceiling didn’t provide an ideal support point but I could bridge the gap using a pole or something like that, over which I could sling a rope or chain. Problem is that I hadn’t got a clue about how much weight the average pole would stand. Should I use metal or wood for instance? I browsed the internet again looking for help as this wasn’t a question I felt comfortable asking of any of my friends or work colleagues. I considered getting my carpenter back but couldn’t think of any reasonable way of asking him for this information without giving the game away. One thing I did discover reading about suspension techniques on the internet, was that I needed to allow for far more strain on the suspension point than just my dead body weight. Apparently the added force of me thrashing about would mean I have to at least double the load requirement - whatever that was. More than ever now, I resented having to learn housework whilst my brothers got to tinker in the workshop with my dad. I’m sure any of them would have known exactly what was needed without all this effort. So I resolved to seek out a woodwork class or something similar as I would need better skills if my bondage was to get any more adventurous.

For a while I was lost in a day-dream of building stocks, racks, pillories, and all manner of medieval torture devices, and maybe even a full scale jail cell in the attic. Sigh. That would all have to wait. Meanwhile, I would just have to go along to Home Depot and see what they had to offer.

I returned to my apartment laden down with a huge piece of wood that was probably far sturdier than my needs and would prove to be a struggle to get up into the loft. I also got a whole bunch of other goodies such as more chain (can never have enough of the stuff) in different thicknesses. Some lengths seemed no thicker than that used for necklace – but it was so shiny! The thickest piece looked like you could tie up the Queen Mary with it. I had bought more rope in lots of different colors and various hooks, eyes, bolts and other fixings, most of which I had no idea of how to use properly - but I wanted to be prepared. One other item I remember reading about on a bondage forum was a rope ratchet so I bought two of these just in case. I’d also blown the last of last month’s bonus on a small toolkit that included a cordless drill which doubled as an electric screwdriver. I was ready to build my way into captivity!

But for now, all I was interested in was to fix up my suspension point. The toolkit made adding various eyebolts and other fixings to the wooden beam much easier. I reckoned these attachments would make for more versatile suspension options than just lobbing a rope or a chain over the beam. The beam was four foot in length and fit nicely across the hatch space with enough left each side of the hole so there was no danger of it slipping, and falling back though. It was about four inches thick and although it was damned heavy to move about, looked like it would support the weight of an elephant. Better safe than sorry, I kept reminding myself as I worked up a sweat getting it into position. I experimented by hanging off the beam for a while with just my hands, swinging and jumping around to try and dislodge it, and concluding this was just right for the job.

A few other fixings were needed for my plan and so I screwed an eyebolt into the floorboards just under the suspension point and another in the top of a door frame, making the hole just out of sight of the casual observer. I would have to remove these eyebolts before any visitors were allowed in.

To ensure maximum restraint I would need to plan this bondage carefully, making sure each piece of rope or chain used was cut to the exact length. I found the snips included in the toolkit weren’t able to cut through the thicker pieces of chain and so I decided for this adventure to stick to rope.

My plan was simple enough; get up on the stool, put my arms into the loop hanging from the beam. Step off the stool tightening the loop around my elbows, and then pull my two gallon water canister off another stool. This in turn would pull on a rope that went through the ratchet device hanging off the eyebolt on the doorframe and was attached to my feet via the ring on the floor, pulling them towards the ground and preventing me from getting back up on the stool to release my arms.

The release mechanism would be attaching the ratchet device to the eyebolt in the top of the doorframe by means of my ice bag timer. The ice bag would be pulled though the eye of the eyebolt once the ice melted and the ratchet attached to the drawstring of the bag would fall to the floor providing enough slack for me to raise my feet back onto the stool.

Experimentation showed though, that standing only one foot above the ground on the step-stool didn’t provide enough slack in the elbow loop for me to get my arms into it. I would need a taller stool. A quick trip to the hardware store later and I could get myself two foot above the round - high enough for my purposes. This meant of course that I would have to find a higher point from which to drop the water canister. Finally found a use for all those telephone directories that came with the apartment. Sitting on top of the otherwise too-short stepstool these provided the perfect drop height for the container.

For complete restraint I wanted to add a few refinements to the setup. A rope wrapped around my wrists would be cinched by attaching the cinch to my ankles. When I was standing up straight, with my feet pulled to the floor, my wrists would be inescapably bound too. This cinch rope would loosen enough for me to release my hands once I was back up on the stool and could bend my knees.

I tried the whole set up without the water container or ratchet and discovered that my elbows just got pulled up and out away from my body. There was too much movement for my head too. I wanted every part of me restrained so this wouldn’t do. To fix the elbow problem I decided to use my elbow cuffs and feed the loop through the rings on those cuffs. That seemed to pull my elbows tighter than using just the loop which tended to slip up my arms towards my armpits. I would also feed the cinch rope from my wrists through a chain at my butt so my arms couldn’t be pulled away from my body. The elbow loop would also feed through a ring on the back of my head harness which would solve both the problems of my arms being pulled away from my body and my loose head.

This setup would mean I would be held really tautly between the beam in the ceiling and the ring in the floor with no lateral movement at all. I would have to find a different way of connecting my arms to the beam as using the cuffs meant I wouldn’t be able to slip the loop onto my arms as I had planned. In the end a little experimentation showed that if I connected my elbow cuffs with a short loop of rope and left the right amount of slack I could just reach up behind me and clip that rope to a chain hanging down from the beam. Problem solved.

All my bindings would have to be rope, so where could I use my beloved chain? I decided to add use a thin chain to make a body harness and include a chain between my legs connected up to the beam in the ceiling.

This would be fun but strenuous. My old boyfriend used to tie me up tightly but rarely tied me to furniture and only once put me in a suspension. I could cope with having my elbows tied together for a while; half-an-hour was my record, but I wasn’t sure how long I could stand having my elbows tied in suspension. I realized it was probably pushing it a bit to be in full suspension with my whole weight on my arms. I should probably adjust the height of the set up so that my toes just touched the floor. A compromise, but if I coped alright with this I could always up the ante next time. The most important rule of self-bondage has to be safety and bound in such an immobile way meant I wouldn’t be able to ‘phone for help if I got stuck. I needed to be careful with this.

Really, for such a complex bondage I knew I should have tried out each aspect one at a time gradually adding restraints as I tested out the setup, but that would have taken away a large part of the thrill. I thought through the different parts of the scenario, checking for any flaws in my plan but came to the conclusion that there was no way for the ice not melt and once my feet were free I would be able to release myself easily. The only potential for disaster would be if for some reason I couldn’t get back up on the stool, for instance; if I were to inadvertently knock it over. I planned to attach it in some way to the ring in the floor so the stool couldn’t fall over or be pushed out of reach. That was it; I was now ready to start my escapade.

Andreabound in the Hallway – Part Two

Fantasizing about my situation and imaging myself as a damsel in peril is an important part of my bondage experience and my previous bondage adventures have seen me cast as a peasant girl locked up in a dark, dank oubliette for displays of public lewdness and as a cowgirl sentenced by a lynch mob to hang for her crimes. For this setup though, I was struggling to find a historical hook to hang my bondage fantasy on. This was partly due to the too modern look of my apartment which was not conducive to my favorite fantasy period; medieval. I could always wear a blindfold so that my surroundings didn’t matter but this bondage was going to be hard enough to enact without adding yet more complications. I would just have to find a different setting.

The humiliation part of bondage has never really figured in my thinking; it’s the restraint part that I crave. But the trip outdoors to the woods to play cowgirl along with its associated risk of discovery had started a new feeling in me. At first I was sick to the stomach at the thought of being discovered, but came to realize that those feelings were actually heightening my sexual arousal. Of course I didn’t ever really want to be discovered; but the idea of it was beginning to turn me on more and more. I might have to explore that a little, maybe a new outdoor adventure was in order. Thinking about it, the cowgirl scenario was far from finished. I might have outwitted those idiot ranchers and escaped from their lynching tree but I was now a fugitive on the run from the law with all the possibilities that entailed. That was for another day though, but it did give me the idea to explore those awakening feelings in my current scenario.

I decided to let my alter ego come out to play. I would use my middle name and become Louise the bondage slut. Louise would be tied up as part of her slave training and left to reflect on her status as mere property by the master assigned to rid her of her desire to constantly rebel against her training and for attempting to escape.

The added pressure of suspension would make it more sensible to wear more clothes and padding than usual anyway so maybe a latex outfit would fit this scenario. If only I had such clothing. I couldn’t think of anyone I knew who would own such items and even if I did I was sure I’d be too embarrassed to ask to borrow them. No I would have to wait until next payday and make another shopping trip.

There was no way I could explain away being spotted coming out of a fetish shop by someone who recognized me, in any case our local mall didn’t have a suitable store so it was back to the internet to research suitable outfits, and places to buy them – within reasonable driving distance but far enough away so there would be little danger of bumping into someone I knew.

Of course I found out there are loads of stores selling such stuff and I realized I must have walked past some of before them without even noticing that they were there. Well I knew where the stores were now, but actually going into one was a different matter. What if it was full of dirty old men browsing magazines? What if one of those men was someone from my office? Amazingly I found I was getting wet again just thinking about it. I would just have to be careful. I picked a store in the next town that seemed to have the most choice according to their website. I suppose I could have ordered online but I didn’t want to wait any longer than I had to. Once I get the mood on to tie myself up I start to go to pieces if I don’t follow through. The longer I leave it the more distracted I become at work, slipping off into daydreams that I can ill afford in the middle of a busy office.

For the next week though until payday came around I would just have to manage somehow. I nearly weakened and put myself into a simple hogtie one night but I resisted, wanting to save myself for the big adventure.

At last payday arrived and the next day, luckily a Saturday, I was off to the fetish shop. I parked across the road and watched the clientele go in and out for a while. As I suspected, apart from one couple, only men went in and out. None of them seemed to spend a great amount of time inside the store. I waited until it seemed fairly quiet and by my reckoning there was only one other person in there. I would have liked an empty shop but by this time my hands were shaking with anticipation and I was worried if I sat here any longer I would leave a puddle of my juices on the car seat.

I didn’t mean to spend much time in the store – get in and out as quickly as I could- but once I started browsing through their huge collection I couldn’t tear myself away. The assistant came over a couple of times to see how I was doing but I was too embarrassed to ask for help. When on the second time he offered to let me try items on I nearly died with embarrassment. After that, thankfully, he left me alone. Eventually, I picked out some items of clothing that I wanted and wished that I did have the nerve to try them on for size. I know my own body measurements but these items cost so much and I didn’t want to make an expensive mistake.

I chose a latex cat-suit that was covered with lockable zips for access to various body parts and also had a catch for a padlock at the top of the high neck. I also couldn’t resist some rubber panties with built in dildos front and back which although also made of rubber were quite firm and much bigger than anything I’d had inside me before. After much soul searching I had to put back a lovely neck corset I had found. I already had a perfectly serviceable posture collar and I just couldn’t stretch to the asking price. In a regular women’s’ wear shop I might have bartered a little, but no way was I going to get into that here.

Leaving my choices on the checkout counter for now, I went over to browse the store’s bondage section. I had come in specifically to look at clothing and already spent more than I had planned, but there was no point in coming all this way and not checking out what the store had to offer. Of course I ended up adding a couple more items to my pile on the counter. All I could afford this time was a pair of nipple clamps that would tighten if pulled and an O-ring harness gag, but I had made a mental note of the full enclosure helmets and extra padded suspension cuffs; items that would have to wait until I could afford a return trip.

The panties caused me the most embarrassment at check out time. I was sure I was blushing from my neck to the top of my head! The assistant must have known I was buying them to place on my self but to his credit he did his best not to meet my eyes and refrained from making any comments beyond the usual pleasantries.

I wanted to leave the cat-suit until the big day but I argued with myself that I needed to try it on for size whilst there was still time to return to the shop. Not that I would have had the nerve to take it back of course and really I just couldn’t wait any longer. I’d deliberately chosen a size too small for me and I had a real job getting the suit on and the zips pulled up. But it fit like a glove and pressed on me in all the right places; yummy! I looked through my lock collection for a padlock small enough to fix the zipper at the neck and clicking that shut almost made me cum right there and then.

The panties I would resist trying on until the big day which wasn’t going to be that difficult as for some unaccountable reason the big day had just moved forward from next weekend up to tomorrow! I quickly sent an email to my office stating I may be in late on Monday due to personal reasons. This would mean I could spend all day Sunday indulging my fantasies without needing to curtail my activities so I could get an early night ready for work the next morning.

For tonight, I would take a light meal and my dreams would have to suffice. In line with my normal policy on bondage, I would refrain from any sexual stimulation for now making the enforced chastity during my bondage ordeal all the more frustrating. I found this always made for an explosive orgasm once I was released. I was tempted to sleep in the cat-suit; it felt so sexy, but I wanted it to be fresh for use in the morning.

Andreabound in the Hallway – Part Three

Unusually for a Sunday I was up bright and early the next morning. I wanted to get an early start on the day’s adventures. I laid out my clothing for the day and sorted through my bondage gear.

I had a quick shower and rather than get dressed I decided to get into character and just locked my leather wrist and ankle cuffs on. I added a simple leather collar which I locked on to complete the slave girl look. This is how I was dressed as I went into the kitchen to prepare a light breakfast and to start the set up for the day’s bondage.

I opened the attic hatch and maneuvered the wooden beam into place so that the eyebolt fixing was directly above the ring I had reinstalled in the floor. I hung a short but study chain that hung down to about head height. I fed a long thin rope through the ring in the floor and fed it through the ratchet device which for now I hung on the eyebolt I had left screwed into the top of a nearby door frame. I attached the other end of the rope to my two gallon water container that I balanced on top of a pile of books resting in turn on the top of the step-stool. As I had decided this morning to connect the water container to my toes rather than my ankles, I had only filled it a little – just enough to pull the rope through the ratchet. It was the gears of the ratchet not the weight of the water that would prevent me from pulling free. I practiced pushing the container off its perch and was gratified to see I had calculated the length of the rope and the weight just right. With the container on the floor the free end of the rope was pulled almost to the ring on the floor. With the container on the stool there was about two feet of slack; enough to allow me to climb the taller stool. I tied a slipknot in the free end of the rope.

Apart from inserting the ice release between the doorframe eyebolt and the ratchet, everything was in pace here so I retired to my bedroom to prepare myself for the coming punishment. First I lubricated the dildos in the latex panties and rolled them up my legs. They were tight, very tight, and I needed to liberally coat my nether regions with talc to get them over my hips. I was glad I had lubricated the dildos as I had real trouble getting the butt plug in place. I wriggled and pushed and was just about to give up, thinking I was going to do myself some damage, when with a plop the thickest part finally slid in and my sphincter muscle settled around the thinner part of the intruder. Getting this out again wasn’t going to be fun. The pussy dildo was easier to insert but I had never felt so full. Was I really going to be able to stand this for long?

Removing all my cuffs, I wriggled my arms and legs into the cat-suit and pulled it up over my shoulders.

In the bathroom I checked my appearance from every side in the mirror and, happy with my new look, put my hair in a ponytail and started to apply my makeup. I didn’t usually wear much makeup, just a light covering to hide the faults, but today’s scenario called for me to look the part of a bondage slut. This seemed to require heavy makeup, lots of eyeliner, blusher and deep red lipstick with a gloss finish. By the time I was done I wouldn’t look out of place plying for trade on a street corner. But to add the finishing touch, I wrote the word S.L.A.V.E. in big letters across my forehead using the lipstick. For good measure, I wrote B.I.T.C.H. on one breast and S.L.U.T. on the other. Not that anyone would be able to see these when my cat-suit was zipped up but I knew the humiliating words were there and the thought of that alone was getting me hot. As I was planning on having bare feet for this tie, I made sure to paint my toenails a particularly slutty shade of red.

Now a choice, should I use the new nipple clamps or not? I’d read about these particular clamps (called clover clamps apparently) and the word was that they were vicious. I hadn’t tried them out yet and my nipples are very sensitive. I could leave the decision until later and use the zips in my cat-suit to apply them if I wanted to, but it seemed more in line with my fantasy scenario to have clamps on underneath my clothing that I couldn’t remove. I opened one of the clamps and released it slowly onto my left nipple. Yowch! That hurt! I quickly clamped my other nipple before I could change my mind and gave an experimental tug on the short connecting chain. Wow! They really did tighten as you pulled. Fine, I could cope with this for now and my mind was spinning with all the possibilities for use later on. I could think of lots of ways I could tie myself up and have to pull on the clamps in order to reach back and get free.

I zipped my cat-suit up to the neck and inserted padlocks in all the zips. As an after thought, I opened the window slightly and threw the keys out into the back yard. Now to get fee of the cat-suit and, to remove the nipple clamps and panties, I would have to wait until dark before I could venture out into the back yard unobserved. I marveled at how bold my bondage sessions were getting lately.

It wasn’t long though before my nipples started to really hurt. I had assumed these would be like my other clamps in that the pain would diminish to a dull ache after I’d been wearing them for a while. On the contrary, these nipple clamps seemed to hurt more the longer they were on. I immediately regretted my rashness in throwing the keys out of the window, and tried to adjust the clamps through the rubber of the cat-suit. No chance; and I also started to regret choosing the more expensive cat-suit with the super thick latex as the only alternative now to waiting it out was to cut through the rubber and that certainly wasn’t going to happen.

Since moving the clamps around to try and ease the pain only caused more suffering, I decided to press on with my bondage so that the opportunity to give into the temptation to meddle with the clamps would be eliminated.

Grabbing a long thin chain I began to wind it around my body; starting by putting the center of the chain at the back of my neck, draping an end over each shoulder under my arms round to the back again and crisscrossing around my torso, putting a couple of wraps around my waist and then under through my legs to the back where I held the ends with one hand and used the other to remove any slack. A small padlock kept the whole thing in place, leaving a short length of chain hanging down like a tail. I would need to use this later to connect my crotch-strap up to the ceiling. With the chains around my breasts, I couldn’t have easily got the clamps free now even if I could have opened the zips. The chain harness pulled the skin-tight latex even closer to my body and I had made sure the loops around my waist were pulled extra tight giving me a wasp-like waist.

Damn! I had thrown this padlock outside too. In fact I realized I’d thrown all my padlocks outside, they’d all been in that little plastic bag that I so casually thrown from the window. I’d be wearing this chain harness as well as the cat-suit until it was dark. At least it was tight enough to prevent the chain jingling which would mean it wouldn’t draw any more attention to me as I crept around the backyard looking for the keys later tonight.

Andreabound in the Hallway – Part Four

It was now past midday and, as my preparations were nearly complete, I considered whether to stop for lunch. Then I remembered the plugs in my pussy and butt; both of which would be staying put until I could risk going outside for the keys and preventing me from using the bathroom until then. I would get hot and bothered during my suspension but there wasn’t any real danger of serious dehydration in just a few hours, so I decided to press on. Since I wasn’t planning on eating and drinking for a while, I strapped on my new harness ring-gag. Oh, this was nice. I started drooling almost straight away and I slipped more into my role as bondage slut Louise, ready and open to serve her master’s whims.

Once I had placed ice from the freezer into the detergent bag and hung the ratchet device from the bag’s drawstring, the clock was now ticking on my release mechanism. Quickly tucking the remaining items I would need under my waist chain for now, I stepped up onto the top of the stool trapping the end of the rope leading from the ring in the floor to the ratchet device under my foot so I could grab it later. Taking the first carefully measured length of rope I wrapped it round and round my ankles and cinched the turns using a shorter rope. I bent down and tied a thin cord around my big toes and used the free end of the rope I had been standing on to make a slipknot and create a cinch between my toes. I bound myself above and below the knees and around my thighs, cinching down the bindings tightly. I added a short rope to the bindings around my ankles, brought it up under my waist chain at the back and made a slip knot at the end.

Grabbing the chain hanging down from the ceiling, I pulled it through the metal ring I had threaded on to the top strap of my ring-gag harness and left it to dangle down my back where it ended about level with my shoulder blades. I eased on my gloves, smoothing down the wrinkles to make sure my fingers reached the ends and would therefore be able to fasten the fiddly double-buckles on my elbow straps which were the next items to be added. I had to put these on with my hands behind my back as the cuffs were already connected by a short loop of rope. There was also a snap-hook threaded onto the middle of this rope loop.

Having to balance on top of the stool with my legs tied tightly together and needing to hold my head up straight, meant it was hard work reaching up behind me to connect the snap-hook to the chain hanging down my back. I was trying to attach myself to the ceiling chain using both the rope between my elbows and the chain between my legs at a point high enough up to give maximum pull on my elbows when I stepped off the stool. Too much slack in the elbow rope and I wouldn’t achieve the effect of total immobilization I was looking for; too tight on the body harness chain and my feet wouldn’t reach the floor at all.

I finally managed to get the snap-hook just right and so it was time to retrieve the wrist loops I had earlier tucked into my waist chain. First I bent my legs giving me enough slack to pry open the noose threaded through my waist chain and leading down to my ankles. Pushing the noose over my left wrist I slipped my wrists into the wrist loops. Smoothing out the loops over my wrists, I pulled the noose back over my hand so the slipknot was situated between my wrists and stood up straight again. This had the effect of pulling the rope connected between my ankles and wrists tight and closing the noose between my wrists. I would be able to wriggle out of this later but only by bending my legs to provide some slack again. One more thing to do and that was to bend my legs slightly allowing my hands enough leeway to reach back up and take hold of the remaining item held under my waist chain; a string leading to the water container still perched on top of the other stool. Pulling on this string would unbalance the container causing it to fall to the ground, pulling the attached rope through the ratchet device, pulling my toes towards the eyebolt screwed into the floor. A one way trip, as no matter how hard I pulled on my legs, the rope would not come back through the ratchet device and my feet would be stuck on the floor where the rope passed through the eyebolt on its way to the ratchet until the ice melted and the whole ratchet device, rope and all, fell to the floor. Until then I wouldn’t be able to raise my feet back up onto the stool and therefore wouldn’t be able to release the pressure on the slipknot so I could free my wrists.

I bent my legs again pulling down on my elbow rope, tightening it, and when I was as low as the rope would let me bend, I lifted my feet off the stool and slowly lowered them to the floor.

Wow, this was tight. I didn’t know how long I could stand this pressure. It wasn’t unbearable though, and no joints felt as if they were about to become dislocated so I pulled on the string leading to water container. It took several yanks to unbalance the container and send it plummeting to the floor. As it fell the pressure on my toes suddenly increased. I had managed to attach my elbow rope to the ceiling chain quite high in the end and now my toes barely touched the floor. Now with the pull of the attached rope on my big toes, my feet weren’t going to leave the floor either and I was forced into a Pointe position with my toes pointing directly down, my back as straight a rod, my elbows touching, my breasts forced out and my head held up high and slightly backwards.

This was awesome. I had never been tied this tight before. I realized what an amateur my ex-boyfriend had been; he’d never managed anything like this. I took a few moments to savor every nuance of my predicament: every point on my body where I was constricted in some way by rope or chain; the slight backwards pull on my head; the ache of my mouth – kept wide open around a new and untried invader; the feel of drool on my chin; the fullness of the dildos – now forced even further into my holes by the pull on the chain of my body harness; most of the weight of my body resting on my elbows; the strain of arching my feet toward the floor – I’d never had my toes tied before and it certainly lived up to the reviews; and of course the biting pain of the nipple clamps.

All-in-all not bad and I wondered as I hung there which of these feelings would be the undoing of me? Which would be the one to wear down my defiance and mould me into the docile slave my master wished me to be? I determined to face the pain head on and not give in to it; he wouldn’t break my spirit this way. Oh no, not so easily would I become compliant and submissive before him. After all, he would then have no cause to punish me and where was the fun in that? I began to suspect that is why he had been the one chosen to break me in. To him this game we played was the best part of it all. He would have his sport pitting his best punishments and tortures against my spirited and indomitable resistance. Perhaps that is why he had been chosen over the harsh but unimaginative mistresses who would have just strung me up and whipped me until I begged for mercy. Playing this game was part of his strategy; giving me glimpses of hope, opportunities to attempt a doomed escape. He was reeling me in slowly like he might reel in a large fish he had hooked. I might find more slack in the line from time-to-time as he played me, but the feeling of freedom I felt then, the hope of escape, was always illusory. He had me on his hook and I was never going to be free again, ever. He would continue to play me until I finally realized the futility of my position and gave myself up in desperation and despair. Then he would reel me in and I would be his. Maybe he was hinting at this, giving me clues by welding my legs so tightly together, by tying my toes so tight and by stringing me up like a mermaid caught by a sailor and hung up at the harbor for all to admire his deed.

The thought of me as a captured mermaid hung up for public display suddenly sent me over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over me and I thrashed against my bonds, eyes closed tightly. When the feelings finally subsided I hung there, breathless, limp in my bonds, unable to move at all, unable to even think clearly and I realized his battle was won. I would do whatever he asked of me. I was his and I longed for release. Not so I could escape. No, rather that I could lie in his arms and be taken by him.

Andreabound in the Hallway – Part Five

My thrashing had smashed the last of the ice to slush and the ratchet had fallen to the floor. I hadn’t even heard that happening I had been so far gone in my ecstasy. I tried to lift my feet up onto the stool but I was drained of all energy. I had to hang limp for another five minutes or so before I regained the strength to place my feet on the stool and shift my center of balance so I could stand up on it.

The noose between my wrists had been pulled tighter than I had expected in the thrashing too. It took a while using my gloved and slowly numbing hands before I could work my hands free of their bonds. Once that was done, removing the elbow cuffs and leg bindings was simple work and soon I was standing on the floor again with only the padlocks of my cat-suit and chain harness keeping me from freedom.

I was aching all over. The pinching of the nipple clamps was still uppermost but that discomfort had been joined by the ache in my mouth and bands of pain around my toes, elbows, ankles and so on. My elbows were the worst, having supported most of my weight during my thrashing about and I wondered if I would find bruises around my arms once I removed the cat-suit. I hoped the padding of the cat-suit and gloves had protected my arms from the worst of it.

In the end I cheated a little and went outside before it was properly dark. I put a big baggy coat over my cat-suit and its covering of chain and ventured out hoping the approaching dusk and my disguise would suffice to keep me from being noticed. I realized I had turned a corner today. Somewhere in my adventure, fantasy had crossed over to reality and I felt deeply affected by the experience. The huge orgasm had helped sear the images into my mind and I felt strangely freed. The risk of discovery outside was now more of a turn-on than a fear. I had come of age in my bondage journey.

I did pass one neighbor in the hallway on the way back to my apartment and I could feel myself blushing as I nodded at him. If only he knew what I was wearing under my coat! Returning to my bedroom I quickly unlocked all the padlocks as I now needed urgent release for my bladder. It was only as I started to remove the cat-suit and saw the writing on my breasts that I remembered I still had S.L.A.V.E written across my forehead in huge bright red letters. Shit! What must the neighbor have thought? I quickly checked the mirror and discovered that the writing had mostly been washed away by sweat and rubbing from the harness strap. The word slave was possible to make out but maybe not from just a casual glance.

I stuffed a rag into my mouth to make sure I didn’t alarm the whole apartment block with the screams I was sure would result from the removal of the nipple clamps. At least the pain of taking them off was so intense as to make me forget the discomfort of wearing them for so long. I vowed to never wear them again; ever. Well maybe not for a few days anyway!

The butt plug took some removing but I was rewarded with another orgasm as I removed the dildo from my pussy reminding me of the blinding orgasms earlier. I was starting to see a correlation between the stringency of my bondage and the intensity of my orgasms and I would have to figure that into my future scenarios.

Tying myself up and knowing I could easily gain release wasn’t ever going to cut it for me now, but to bind myself with greater and greater severity in search of the ultimate orgasmic experience was going to take a lot of ingenuity and maybe a level of mechanical competence I did not yet possess. I decided to start looking for a course in woodwork or home maintenance at the earliest opportunity.

I slept like a log that night, expecting to dream of mermaids and the like but instead waking feeling quite empty. I had to find ways to up the intensity of my bondage adventures and I realized this was starting to obsess me. Was I ill? Did I need help? No, I needed a release from the stress of my busy job and this was just my way of coping. With that consolation, I started to plan my next adventure…

 

14.02.06