Careful What You Wish For Claire

It had been several weeks since my last bondage adventure; a lack of time and the demands of my course meant that I hadn’t been able to indulge my favourite past time. However that was going to change this weekend; I’d completed my last class project this week, handing it in to the lecturer two days early, and had no other pressing commitments to meet. In addition to this, my housemate Amy was going away for the weekend. She was off to see her boyfriend in Exeter and was leaving mid-afternoon on Friday, not planning to return till Sunday night. This meant I’d have the house to myself for just over two days and could indulge in some serious, and possibly noisy, self-bondage.

Amy didn’t know about my little kink, or a least I’d never told her about it. I’d always been shy about confessing to her, even in my most drunken state, and this was partly because, even though I didn’t consider myself bisexual, I found myself strangely attracted to her. The fact is she often featured in my dreams and fantasies, and it was my secret desire that one day she’d come home and, finding me bound and helpless would choose, rather than setting me free, to have her wicked way with my body. You see, even though she didn’t know about my little hobby, that didn’t stop me using her as my safety; and often I would bind myself in some awkward or difficult position, safe in the knowledge that if something did go wrong, ultimately Amy would return home and find me. Perhaps that security allowed me to take more risks than I usually would, because I’d found my self-bondage much more satisfying whilst sharing the house with her than I had previously.

Anyhow, the week soon passed and Friday afternoon found me driving Amy to the train station in my beat up old Ford Fiesta. My nipples were hard as rocks under the light summer blouse I was wearing and my pussy was hot with anticipation; I could feel my knickers getting damp from my excitement as, with each passing moment, my impending fate drew that little bit nearer. After a brief goodbye at the station I tore off home in a hurry, eager now to carry out my plan. About a year ago I’d read some stories on the web about dilemma bondage, where every action on the part of the bound person to alleviate their position would instead make matters worse for them. Reading these stories had got me so hot at the time that I just had to try it myself, and over the year I’d experimented with a number of different scenarios with some success.

Some success is probably an understatement – in fact these positions had got me so hot and horny, that I’d had the best orgasms of my life either during or after them. It would probably be fair to say that I’ve become addicted to dilemma bondage, and for this weekends adventure planned to incorporate a number of elements I’ve only used separately before. And so I drove home from the station, my head a whirl of erotic thoughts, driving one handed with my free hand between my legs, stoking the inferno that was building there.

Getting home I parked the car up outside the house, jumped out and locked it, then hurried inside, eager to get on with my plans. Shutting the door behind me I quickly checked the downstairs doors and windows, making sure they were all locked and secure; after all, the last thing I wanted when bound and helpless was an unwanted visitor. Satisfied that all was well, I made my way to the freezer and removed the tray of ice-cubes before closing the door and heading upstairs to my bedroom.

Crossing my room to the desk under the window, I set the ice-cube tray down and opened the desk draw, withdrawing a large pink envelope with the word AMY written boldly across the front. With envelope in hand I went downstairs, setting the envelope on the living room table, facing the door, so that it would be the first thing Amy saw when she returned home. This is my safety; and inside the envelope there is simply a note telling Amy that I’m in trouble and need her help urgently, and to come to my room immediately. So far it’s never been needed, but I always make a point of putting it out just in case.

With that done I returned to my room, closed the door behind me and, making my way over to the window, drew the curtains shut. Crossing the room again I opened the wardrobe doors and reached inside, lifting out a bucket full of water in which I have been soaking some leather laces and a leather bondage hood. I deliberately bought the hood a size to small, loving the feeling of constriction and tightness on my head when I’m wearing it. I also discovered that it stretches slightly when wet, allowing me to tighten it firmly in place, knowing that it will shrink and tighten further as it dries. The same thing applies to the laces, which suits my current plans perfectly.

Setting the bucket down I returned to the cupboard, lifting out the box that contains my bondage toys and placed it on the bed before returning to the cupboard once more. This time I retrieved two wooden poles, one about three foot long, the other about 18” long, each with steel eyebolts screwed into the ends. I had spared no expense with these, and basically purchased a broom handle from the local hardware store that I cut to the required lengths. A bit of rubbing with sandpaper followed by several coats of varnish had smoothed off the 3-foot pole, which was necessary for my purposes, after which I’d screwed the eyebolts into the ends. These were also provided courtesy of my local hardware store.

Returning to the cupboard I crouched down and, gripping firmly with both hands, struggled to lift out a 20 pound steel weight I keep there. I’d found this in the house shortly after moving in, tucked away in a corner of the basement, and quickly liberated it for my own devious ends. I can’t imagine what it’s original use was, but it’s cast as a solid block of steel, hollow down the middle and with a cross bar in the hollow near the top. This makes it ideal for me, as the cross bar makes an excellent attachment point for ropes. Being a fairly petit girl, it was an effort to carry this weight across the room before dumping it on the bed. Having done so I then climbed onto the bed and, with much exertion, shuffled the weight toward the centre, eventually positioning it directly under one of the numerous eyebolts I’ve screwed into the ceiling for my little adventures.

One of the advantages of having an attic was that I’d been able to clamber up there one afternoon while Amy was out and, armed with a notepad, pen and tape measure, had been able to work out the positions of the beams over my bedroom ceiling. After that it had been a simple job with a power drill to place pilot holes in the ceiling to make sure I’d hit the beams and, once I’d located suitable positions, screw the eyebolts in place, fixing them firmly into the beams. It had taken me the best part of that afternoon to get all the eyebolts in place, fill in the duff holes with filler, and touch up the paintwork that I’d damaged; but in the end my labours were well rewarded, and I now had 10 eyebolts fixed securely in the ceiling at different points.

Of course, it was difficult to hide such fixtures when friends came to visit; but when they ask, I simply reply that they were there when I moved in and have no idea what they’re for. Everyone seems to buy that answer, or at least no one’s ever questioned it. Strangely enough however, Amy has never asked me about them, even though she must know I put them in myself, as they certainly weren’t there when we came to view the house before moving in. Instead she just looked at them, then me, and gave a wry smile; so I have a certain suspicion that she has some idea what I get up to in my room.

Now getting back to the task in hand, once I had the weight in position I returned to the cupboard retrieving the sports bag in which I keep my rope and accessories. Closing the cupboard door and walking back to the bed I set the bag down and opened it, quickly removing a number of coils of white nylon rope and placing them beside the bag. Sorting through them, I found the long length of rope I need and tossed it next to the weight on the bed.

Next I selected a second, much shorter length of rope, tied in a loop, and slung that next to the weight. That done, I opened one of the side pockets of the bag; a metallic rattling comes from within as I do so and, reaching in, lift out a handful of pulleys and some S shaped metal hooks. I drop these on the bed before sorting two hooks and two pulleys from the pile, climb up on the bed and, standing over the weight, reach up to place the first hook on the eyebolt mounted there, before attaching one of the pulleys to it. Reaching down, I drop the remaining pulley and hook on the bed before taking up the long length of rope. Standing straight again, I unravel the rope and, finding one end, tie it to the eyebolt I just attached the pulley to.

That done and I crouch down again, this time taking up the short length of rope and quickly double it up, once, then twice, so that I end up with a fairly short loop, less than a foot long, consisting of four parallel strands of rope. Taking this loop, I thread one end under the central bar on the weight before pulling it up the other side, pulling the two sides of the loop so the same length rises from each side of the bar. Taking the second S shaped hook from the bed I fix it around the strands of rope so they are held together before attaching the second pulley to it. Using one hand to pull the pulley upward and keeping everything in tension, I take the free end of the rope dangling from the eyebolt and thread it through the first roller on the bottom pulley.

Pulling the rest of the rope through, I pull so the rope between the ceiling and the weight is tensioned and then, with the free end of the rope in hand, stand up to thread the rope through the first runner of the upper pulley, again pulling all the free rope through. I quickly repeat the process a second time so that I end up with four strands of rope between the ceiling and the weight on the bed, with the free end of the rope in hand and leading up from my hand to the upper pulley.

Pulling now on the free end of the rope with one hand, while lifting the last vertical strand of rope with the other, I slowly hoist the weight up to the ceiling, leaving it hanging menacingly over my bed. Once that’s done, and keeping tension on the rope at all times to stop the weight from dropping, I carefully climb off my bed and make my way over to a clear space in the room, dragging the chair from my desk with me in the process.

Stepping up on the chair, I hold the rope taut with my left hand while, with the right, I thread the free end of the rope through another eyebolt now above my head, pulling the full length through. Dropping my right hand slightly, I take hold of the dangling rope about 8 inches down from the eyebolt and lift it, passing it over the rope leading to the weight before pulling it back down and through the loop I’ve just created.  Holding onto this piece of rope, I then carefully ease my hold on the rope holding the weight, allowing it to fall slightly, and in the process tightening up the knot I’ve just made. Once the knot has tightened and I can see it’s going to hold, I relax my grip on the rope leading to the weight, allowing the knot to tighten fully and support the whole of the weight on it’s own.

Now I need to complete my preparations and, hopping off the chair, make my way over to the bag on the bed. Sifting through it I quickly find the next two pieces of rope I need, one fairly long and coiled up neatly; the other very short and tied in a loop with a small brass ring dangling from it. I put these to one side and sort through my collection of pulleys again, finding the small single runner pulley I need and another S shaped hook. These I slip into my jeans pocket before picking up the long coiled rope I just selected.

Stepping up onto the bed I quickly uncoil this rope and, finding one end, pass it through the eyebolt supporting the weight. Pulling this free end down, I pass it through the short coil of rope that supports the weight, before tying it off with two half hitches. Taking the other end of this rope and pulling it taut, I hop off the bed and make my way back to the chair, climbing up to pass the free end through this eyebolt and pull the slack through. Reaching back with my free hand, I extract the pulley from my pocket and thread the rope through the runner, before taking the free end back up to the eyebolt and passing it through again.

Tugging the pulley down, I adjust the ropes till the pulley is about 2 foot from the ceiling before tying off the free end of this rope to the eyebolt in the ceiling. Once it’s secure, I take the remainder of this rope and pass it through another eyebolt nearby, looping it up and tying it off so that it’s tidily out of the way. Removing the remaining S hook from my jeans pocket I attached it to the underside of this small pulley before stepping down off the chair. I hope you can follow my explanations clearly enough, however I will try to explain how this all works in practice, which may help you to see what’s going on.

The first rope dangles from the quick release knot I’ve tied on the eyebolt over the chair, and at the moment supports the weight over my bed. When I tug this dangling rope, the knot will unravel, allowing the weight to fall. This will then pull the second rope that is connected to the pulley hanging over the chair. This will cause the pulley to rise as the weight falls and, from experience, I know that it’s virtually impossible to pull the pulley back down once it has risen; I’ve tried it before and know for a fact that I can’t do so.

All this work had taken the edge off my arousal, but now, having nearly completed the preparations, I felt a growing anxiety in my gut at the prospect of what I was planning to do. Thinking about it soon had my pussy hot and moist again, so I quickly slipped out of my jeans and tossed them on the bed, leaving me standing in my small pink panties and light cream blouse. Lying back on the bed (but not underneath the weight), I let my mind wander over the bondage I was planning, revelling in my uncertainty of how long it would last, of how much I would suffer and of the small chance that I would not be getting free until Amy returned on Sunday.

This had been a recent development for me, probably because I’d become so proficient at putting myself into bondage that I would eventually be released from automatically, that I had started to include a small element of risk that I wouldn’t get free at all. So far it hadn’t happened, but the prospect of been trapped in the bondage I’d planned gripped my stomach with a hard knot of fear and anxiety, and admittedly, made me very horny and excited at the same time. Thinking such thoughts, I was soon feeling randy again, and slipped a hand under my panties to gently massage my clit. I continued this for a while, gradually working up my arousal before stopping as I felt my orgasm approaching, my nipples now hard little nubs straining to burst through the material of my blouse.

Standing up I quickly stripped off the blouse and tossed it on the bed, leaving me in just my small pink panties and revealing my curves for all to see, not that anyone was around mind you. I stepped in front of the mirror, turning this way and that for a bit, admiring my reflection and admitting to myself that I looked pretty hot indeed. After a bit of self-worship I decided I’d better crack on and, returning to the bed, picked up the small loop of rope with the ring attached. This ring was the key to my release, as I was basically going to use an ice release method, and this ring would be the piece that stopped the ice slipping through early.

Going back to the chair I reached up and hooked this loop over the hook on the pulley, allowing the ring to hang dangling downward. I was getting close to completing my preparations now, and was very aware of the tight knot of tension and excitement gripping my stomach. Lifting the chair I dragged it out of the way before walking over to the chest of drawers and opening the bottom draw. Reaching in I pulled out a large beach towel that I placed beside me before reaching into the draw again to remove a sheet of folded plastic. Closing the drawer I stood up and unfolded the plastic sheet, gave it a shake from one edge and then dragged it across the floor, laying it out flat under the dangling rope.

Working round the edges I flattened the sheet out evenly before picking up the beach towel, giving it a flick to unfold it. Stepping to the edge of the plastic sheet I gave the towel another flick, bringing it down to land on the plastic sheet. Once again I worked my way round the edge, evening it out and getting it to lay flat. Once I was satisfied I turned, walked back to the bed and opened the box containing my toys. Upending the box, I tip the contents onto the bed before sorting through them, placing the items I needed to one side. I soon sorted the toys I wanted, these included a small adjustable vibrator; a pair of cloverleaf nipple clamps connected by a short length of fine chain; my padded leather ankle and wrist cuffs and a small pouch that jingled as I picked it up and which contains my collection of ten identically keyed padlocks.

Next from the pile of toys I selected a small nylon pouch with a drawstring, the sort that are used in washing machines to hold the washing tablets; a wonderful invention I find, tough and very strong, and which I have happily perverted to my own ends. The next item is a solid steel ring about two inches in diameter, followed by a long piece of chain, about eight foot in length, which I place in a heap beside everything else. Finally I select a rig gag from the pile, placing it to one side before picking up a packet of cable ties; extracting three from the packet and looping each in turn so that the ratchet engaged but leaving the tie in a large loop. Having sorted the items I wanted, I scooped up the remainder and returned them to the box, closing the lid and placing it on the floor by my bed.

I am now nearly ready to begin and decide to pay a quick visit to the little girls room. I hadn’t eaten or drunk much since last night as the last thing I wanted was to be trapped in bondage desperately needing the toilet; and so I make my way to the bathroom to relieve myself and have a last small drink of water before returning to my room. Closing the door on my return, I twist the dimmer switch to adjust the lights down low before kneeling on the floor just inside the door. Closing my eyes I start to fantasise a scenario. In my mind Amy was my Mistress, and right now was downstairs angry with me for something, probably because I hadn’t done my washing up yet again. As punishment, she’d sent me to my room, having given me instructions on how to bind myself, and would be up shortly to check I’d followed her instructions.

The heat built in my crotch as I continued to fantasise, my nipples standing hard and erect on my firm breasts as, in my mind, I imagined I could hear Amy angrily moving around downstairs. With a little gasp of fear, I got to my feet hurriedly, aware that I’d better get on and bind myself before she came to check on me. Heaven forbid if I wasn’t ready when she did, who knows what she’d do to me then. 

Making my way to the bed and taking the leather cuffs, I quickly strapped one around each ankle, making sure that a D-link on them was on the inside. With that done I took up the wrist cuffs, wrapping one in turn about each wrist, making sure the straps were secured snugly, and again with the D-links positioned on the inside of my wrists. Opening the pouch containing the padlocks, I extracted two, using one on each wrist cuff to lock the buckle shut. Now I couldn’t remove them until I got hold of the key.

Standing up again, I picked up the nylon bag and the 2” steel ring I’d selected and made my way over to the desk. Placing the ring and bag on the desk, I took the ice cube tray and turned it over, flexing the plastic till all the ice-cubes had dropped out. Checking through them, I soon found the one with the padlock key frozen in it and, reassured it was there, opened the nylon bag and placed it inside. With that done, I scooped the remaining ice-cubes into the pouch, pulling the drawstring closed once I’d done so.

Picking up the steel ring I turned and walked over to the dangling pulley, my heart beating hard in my chest, unsure how long it would take so much ice to melt; and desperately excited at the prospect of been trapped for an unknown time. Reaching up, I threaded the drawstring through the ring that was dangling from the pulley and then tied it tightly to the larger ring I’d carried over with me. Gripping the large ring tightly, I pulled down hard with all my weight, just lifting myself off the floor a little, and found everything held securely. Turning round I shifted the chair, setting it down within easy reach of where I’d be standing before making my way back to the bed to pick up the length of chain and another padlock.

Returning to the dangling pulley, I reached up and threaded one end of the chain through the large ring, pulling it through till the two dangling lengths were the same. I then threaded the padlock through the links just below the ring and locked it shut; the chain was now secured in place, and the padlock would prevent it sliding through the ring in either direction. Going back to the bed I scooped up my remaining toys and another piece of rope I needed, carrying them over to the chair where I set them down. Returning to the bed I then picked up the wooden poles and carried them back, placing them beside the chair on the floor.

My heart was pounding hard with excitement now that I was finally gonna get tied up, and I quickly walked over to the bucket, reaching in to pull the sodden laces and hood from the water. I held them steady over the bucket for a moment while the water poured from them, gave them a small shake to loosen a few more droplets before carrying the soaking mass back to the chair and draping them over the backrest. Water continued to dribble from them, falling on the floor to be soaked up by the towel I’d placed earlier. Finally I was ready and, after sitting myself down, took two padlocks from the chair before picking up the shorter of the two wooden poles. Spreading my legs I placed the pole between my ankles and, using the D-links on the cuffs, first locked one ankle, then the other, to the eyebolts at the ends of the pole.

Reaching for the chair again, I pulled the longest piece of leather cord toward me, water dripping over my bare legs as I did so. This cord is about 7 foot long and, leaning forward, I quickly tied one end of it to each of my big toes. I now stood with some difficulty given that my ankles were locked about 18” apart and, shuffling about a bit, positioned myself directly under the dangling pulley above me. The chains hanging down felt cool on my skin where they brushed against me as I leant forward to pick up the 3-foot wooden pole, along with two more padlocks. I carefully threaded the pole under the cord between my toes and lifted it up into my crotch; the cord from my toes now formed a loose arch before me, looping up from one toe, over the pole and back down to the other toe.

With one hand holding the pole in place, I reached behind me and felt for one of the dangling lengths of chain. Finding it, I pulled it away from my body to the end of the pole, found the link in the chain that was just above the eyebolt and threaded the padlock hasp through it. That done I then threaded the hasp through the eyebolt and locked the padlock shut. Gripping the second length of chain and the second padlock, I lifted the front of the pole till it was nestled snugly in my crotch, slipped the padlock hasp through the chain and locked it onto the eyebolt.

The pole was now secured in my crotch, supported by the two chains dangling from the steel ring above my head, one before me and one behind, with my crotch resting on the middle of the pole; meanwhile my legs were also locked 18” apart, held in place by the locked spreader bar. Reaching for the chair again, I picked up my cloverleaf nipple clamps and lifted them to my pert nipples. Squeezing the first open, I carefully placed the jaw over my left nipple and gently released the clamp, allowing the jaw to close on my tender little bud. A gasp escaped my lips as a sharp pain lanced through my nipple and, as is always the case, I had to fight the urge to remove the devilish little device immediately.

Resisting the temptation to do so, I instead took the second clamp, aligned its jaws with my right nipple, and allowed it to close also, giving a little whimper as another as my nipple shouted its pained protest. Trying hard to ignore the sharp pains in my nipples I reached for the chair once again, and this time picked up a shorter length of the sodden leather laces. Lifting this to my left breast, I looped its length under my breast, then up over the top, pulling the two ends tightly to compress the base of my breast. The effect was immediate as the blood was trapped in my breast causing it to swell rapidly. I quickly looped the cord round my breast 3 more times before tying it off tightly, the pain from the clamp on my nipple now a lot sharper and more intense.

Working quickly, I picked up another short length of leather lace and repeated the process on my right breast, causing it to swell nicely also. So far the laces were tight but comfortable but I knew, from prior experience, that as they dried and shrank, they would tighten their grip fiercely until it became a torture to have them in place. By now I was panting fiercely from the sharp pains in my nipples, my breath whistling in and out through my nose. At the same time my excitement was building rapidly as my bondage increased, and looking down I could see a dark stain where my juices had already soaked into my panties.

Picking another short length of cord from the chair, I lifted the loop of cord from my toes upward so its apex was just above my belly button, at which point the whole length was of this cord was pulled taut. Slipping the shorter length underneath, I then looped this piece up and over the chain connecting my nipple clamps and pulled it tight before tying the two ends together. My nipple clamps were now joined directly to my toes, which meant that if I lifted myself up on tiptoes, the cords would tug downward on my nipple clamps. Cautiously I tried this, lifting myself up on my toes slightly, and was rewarded by the feel of the clamps tightening their grip on my nipples and pulling downward, causing fresh shafts of pain to shoot through them.

Carefully I lowered myself till my feet were again flat on the floor, satisfied that my plan would work and that, should I choose to lift myself on my toes, I would be forced to endure added torment to my nipples. And of course, as time went by and the leather cord dried and shrunk, this situation would only get worse. My bondage was now getting to the tricky stage to complete, and I reached forward to lift the long coil of rope from the chair. Working carefully so that I didn’t cause any unnecessary tugging on my breasts, I unravelled the rope and, taking one free end, reached up to tie it to the large steel ring above my head.

With that done I shuffled the rope through my hands till I found the other end, reached forward to lift the three looped cable ties from the chair, and threaded the rope through them. Next I threaded the end of the rope through the d-link on my left wrist cuff, passed it through the cable ties in the reverse direction and back up to the steel ring where I threaded it through again. Grabbing hold of the free end I pulled all the slack rope through till I had a taut pair of ropes joining my left wrist to the steel ring, with three cable ties encircling the ropes. With that done I threaded the rope through the cable ties again, this time going from top to bottom, and then left the free length of rope dangling down to form a curled heap on the floor.

Ignoring the rope for the time being now it was attached to my left wrist I reached forward with my right hand and took the ring gag from the chair. Lifting it to my mouth I slipped the top and bottom edges behind my teeth before pulling the buckles back behind my head, securing the gag tightly in place. Almost immediately my jaw started to ache dully, but I knew this would pass shortly as the muscles stretched to accommodate the intruder. All that was left now, before securing my hands, was to put on the hood and insert my vibrator.

Reaching forward I took the vibrator from the chair and switched it on. I wanted it in place to stimulate me without getting me off, and so I adjusted the speed setting to its lowest position. Now for the difficult part, lifting myself slightly on my toes I managed to slide the bar slightly to one side and then, pushing my knickers aside, slipped the vibe deep within my pussy. Letting out a small sigh of pleasure from the feel of the vibe filling me, plus the sensations it was generating, I pulled my knickers back into place. Slipping my fingertips inside my panties I spread my lips wide and lowered myself back onto the bar, making sure it rested snugly within the length of my cunt. God, what a heavenly feeling that was; and for several minutes I stood there transfixed, grinding my cunt into the bar as the vibrator worked it’s magic within me. However, I shortly stopped as I felt my orgasm approaching; I didn’t want to get myself off till my fate was sealed.

So, with an act of will I forced my attention away from my pussy, and instead reached forward to pick up the bondage hood from the chair. Giving it a shake to open it up sent a cascade of water droplets over my breasts and stomach, their touch cool and pleasant on my skin. Twisting the hood round I lifted it to my face and drew it down over my head, feeling it sticking wetly to my skin as I did so. I was now blind, the hood I’d chosen having no eye holes in it and, after a moments adjustment to ensure the mouth and nose holes were in place, I reached behind me and started tugging at the laces, drawing them tight from top to bottom. After the first pass the hood was gripping my head snugly and I tied the laces loosely before returning to the top of my head again, making a second pass to draw any remaining slack from the laces.

I repeated the process a third time, and when I’d finished my head was gripped tightly in the embrace of the hood. God I love this feeling, and by now was so turned on that it took a real effort of will to stop myself from getting off by grinding my cunt into the bar between my legs. Instead I reached back behind my neck, blindly fumbling for the strap that would secure the hood round my throat, eventually finding and pulling it tight. This gave me a slight feeling of constriction round my throat while at the same time securing the knots in the cord away from prying fingers. Reaching back one last time, I found the steel loop poking through the leather strap on the hood and quickly secured the last padlock in place, fixing the hood irrevocably on my head.

Finally I was prepared, all I needed to do now was secure my hands and release the weight and my fate would be sealed. My body would no longer be mine, instead it would be caught in a trap of my own devising, bound and tormented by the forces I’d set in motion. Flush with excitement and with the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears I reached behind me, spending a moment working by touch alone to sort out the tangle of ropes at my back, making sure that the pull rope to release the knot supporting the weight was accessible.

Once I’d sorted the ropes for my hands I quickly threaded the free end through the d-link on my right cuff. At this point none of the rope was tight and I had plenty of freedom to work, and so easily passed the free end back through the cable ties, going from bottom to top this time. Lifting the free end up, I passed it through the steel ring one last time, then back down through the cable ties and, using both hands, pulled all the slack rope through. Taking the last strand of rope I looped it snugly round my right thumb before twisting my arms outward so I could press my hands together palm to palm, with my fingertips facing upward.

Working slowly I pressed my palms together, wriggling my hands further and further up my back into a reverse prayer position. Fortunately I am very supple and was able to work my hands quite a way up my back without too much strain, though the way it forced my chest out caused the clamps to pull harder on my nipples. Panting from the fresh pains in my nipples, it dawned on me how much I was going to suffer over the next several hours, and a pang of fear gripped me. But I was too aroused to back out now, the vibes in my cunt were driving me to distraction and I could feel the pole nestling in my cunt slick with my juices.

So instead I worked with my fingertips to pull all the slack out of the rope that would hold my arms in place. It was difficult to do, firstly because I could only drag the rope about an inch or so each time; and secondly because the cable ties kept dropping down to get in the way of my fingers. However I persevered and finally, after what seemed an age, I felt the ropes going up from my wrists begin to tighten. A few minutes later and it became a struggle to pull any more rope through as I had to force my wrists higher and higher up my back to get any more slack in the rope.

Eventually it reached the point where I could do no more, my wrists were now positioned high up my back, with the free end of the rope gripped tightly in my left hand to prevent all my work from unravelling. I stood there for several minutes, my right hand fingering the cable ties that, once pulled tight, would lock all the ropes together, trapping me here in this position until the ice above me melted. I was finally ready, staring into the abyss before me as I stood on the brink, but not having the courage to take the final step.

In my mind I fantasised again; I’d done all that Amy had demanded, getting myself ready for her just as she’d told me, and now, listening carefully, I could hear her approaching; first soft footsteps on the stairs, next on the landing, and now the sound of my door opening as she entered my room. I felt, rather than heard her cross the room, and could sense her circling me, examining the bondage I’d placed upon myself. And then she spoke, her voice cool and soothing, congratulating me for doing so well in obeying her instruction – telling me what a good little slave I was.

I was aglow, swept up by her praise as she circled behind me; but then she spoke again, her voice this time containing a trace of annoyance. She’d seen that I hadn’t secured the cable ties and began to berate me, criticizing my inability to carry out the simplest of commands, demanding to know whether I cared for her at all. But I couldn’t answer, the ring gag in my mouth prevented me from speaking, and so I did the only thing I could to prove my love for her. Reaching up with my fingertips, I grasped the first cable tie and pulled on it, tightening it somewhat before shifting my fingers along the plastic and pulling for a second and then a third time. Finally, after some effort I had it tight, gripping hard on the bundle of ropes holding my arms in place.

I shifted to the second cable tie and repeated the process, all the while imagining Amy praise me for been such a good girl. Shifting my fingers again, I pulled the third cable tie tight, and then went over them all once more, managing to tighten each another few notches before I was finished; wanting to show Amy that I did care, that I was willing to do this for her. Happy that the ties were tight I carefully released the rope I’d been gripping in my left hand. My arms didn’t budge an inch so I gave an experimental tug, and nothing happened. The ropes didn’t shift at all. I was now irrevocably trapped till the ice melted at some point in the future.

At this realisation, my heart started pounding hard in my chest and I could feel a throbbing in my clit and pussy; and all the while a twinge of anxiety gripped me because I knew we hadn’t finished yet. In my daydream I sensed Amy behind me, telling me how good and obedient I was, but that there was one more thing to do. I gave a small, nervous nod of my head yes, knowing exactly what she meant, and groped around with my fingertips to find the rope dangling from the knot above me. After a moments searching I found and gripped it gently in my hands. I imagined Amy walking around me, asking me if I was ready to suffer for her, asking if I was ready to take my punishment for her. My mouth felt dry now as I nervously tried to swallow, a difficult thing to do wearing a ring gag; but in the end I gave my mistress another small, nervous nod of the head yes.

I imagined her walking behind me again, her eyes locked on my hands and the rope I held, while she praised me for been so good and told me to go ahead, to show her how much I loved her. With trembling fingers I moved to do her bidding, giving the rope first one small tug, and then a second; but still the knot held and so I pulled again, sensing Amy watching intently. The next moment the rope went slack for an instant, and just as suddenly pulled taut again as the knot unravelled and the weight dropped. The sudden tension in the ropes pulled my arms up as I held onto the rope in my hand tightly, preventing the weight from falling any further. I knew now I was doomed to suffer my fate; I had crossed the threshold from which there was no drawing back, and so I resigned myself to it, slowly letting the rope slide through my fingers. I felt the ropes on my arms pulling tight, tugging my hands remorselessly upward, my elbows drawing a little closer behind my back, while the bar between my legs was pulled up hard into my pussy.

In my imagination Amy smiled at me, telling me what a good slave I was to endure my punishment for her, and that she’d be back later to free me. I listened intently as she crossed the room, leaving and closing the door behind her; and then her soft footsteps heading down the stairs; sealing my fate as she went. Wrapped in my bodily sensations and having now committed myself, I decided to try and get myself off by grinding myself against the wooden bar pressing into my cunt. Shifting my pelvis back and forth, I ran my cunt along the bar, while the vibrator buzzed away merrily inside me, it’s bulk filling me nicely while, with each shift of my body, I caused the clamps to tug slightly on my nipples.

With my head wrapped in the hood, my heartbeat sounded loud in my ears as my swollen breasts throbbed to the same beat. In my excited state it didn’t take long before I felt my orgasm approaching, and in my rapture redoubled my efforts. I ground my pelvis hard into the wooden bar, pushing down with my weight to gain extra leverage; almost totally unaware of the added strain this was causing my upper arms. A few moments later and my whole body spasmed as my orgasm crashed upon me. Wave after wave swept over me as I ground my pelvis hard into the bar; all my cares washed away as I was swept up in euphoria. I couldn’t say how long my orgasm lasted or just how many I had; they seemed to roll from one to the next, but eventually the spell broke and I returned to earth, by body drenched in sweat and hanging limply in my bonds.

For a long time I hung there contentedly, wrapped in the afterglow of my orgasm, almost half asleep in a contended stupor. However, eventually the aches of my body drew my attention, and once noticed couldn’t be ignore again, and so I slowly came back to consciousness and tried to take stock of my situation. My body was now a mass of aches and pains and, though I hadn’t realised it at the time, during my throes of ecstasy I must have raised myself slightly, causing the weight to drop a little further. My hands seemed to have shifted slightly higher up my back and were held there remorselessly, while my upper arms were a mass of fiery, aching and strained muscles. The bar between my legs was now buried painfully deep in my sensitive cunt, filling my pussy with a dreadful burning ache as my weight pressed me down hard on the bar.

Next were my feet that, while not painful in themselves, were no longer flat on the floor. Instead I found myself slightly up on my toes, with my heels hovering about inch off the towel. And finally, because my feet were no longer flat, the cord between my toes and the nipple clamps was pulled tight, dragging down on the clamps, forcing them to bite and pull painfully on my nipples. Shock and horror shot through me like a lightning bolt, and a tight fear gripped my stomach as I realised my predicament. Of course, this was what I’d planned to happen all along, but I’d never anticipated ending up in such a state so near the start of my adventure.

Desperately I hunted around for some avenue of escape, but I had planned too well and there was none. To relieve my aching nipples I could lift my toes easily enough, but that would simply increase the stain on my arms and force my pussy harder onto the bar. If I wanted to relieve the ache in my pussy by lifting off the bar, I could lift myself on my toes while pulling down with my arms to stop the weight rising further, but that would just cause my nipples even more pain. For several minutes I hung there keeping still, while the aches and pains grew and grew in my arms, pussy and nipples. With my head encased in the tight, damp leather hood I breathed deeply through my gag, fighting to remain calm and hold at bay the panic that was threatening to rise up and engulf me.

With the fingertips of my right hand I groped round my left wrist, searching for the buckle of the cuff in the hope I could tug it free despite the padlock. Having found it I struggled for an endless time, desperately pulling and twisting at the strap in the vain hope that I could tear it free. Of course it was futile and the leather buckle, padlocked in place, easily resisted my attempts.

In the meantime though, my calf muscles had begun to tremble below me, and I realised that all this time I had been supporting some of my weight with my legs. However, the trembling told me this couldn’t last forever and so, experimentally, I lifted my toes slightly from the floor, allowing my weight to be fully supported by my pussy and the ropes holding my arms. I felt my body sink slightly as I did so, and the wooden bar pressed harder into my crotch as a sharp lancing pain shot through my groin. It was unbearable, a terrible agony, and I hurriedly put my toes back on the ground, pressing down to lift myself off the bar that was torturing my cunt. As it turns out I put my toes down too hurriedly and the next instant sensed a slight strumming in the ropes as I felt my hands tugged slightly upward.

I gasped in horror, realising instantly that what I’d done was take a little strain off the rope holding my arms, allowing the weight to drop slightly, causing the rod pressing into my cunt to rise with me. The biting pain of my nipples had leapt also, as they were tugged even more forcibly downward. To ease the strain I lowered myself slightly, letting the bar dig deeper into me but relieving the ache in my nipples somewhat.

There was now no escape for me, and my existence quickly degenerated into a constant shifting of my body as I raised and lowered myself, continually trading off one pain against another. My heels were now hovering about two inches off the floor, so all that I’d managed was to make my situation that little bit worse. Of course this is exactly what I’d intended when I designed this scenario; however, back then it had seemed like a good idea whereas now it was rapidly becoming a nightmare. Once again I felt panic rise within me as the situation drove home my helplessness and I started breathing deeply, trying to remain calm and keep the panic at bay. Within the hood tears welled in my eyes, and I cursed myself for getting into such a predicament.

Time passed in a daze as the pains grew within me. My upper arms were a smouldering inferno of straining muscle; my nipples throbbed painfully with every heartbeat, screaming out at me for some kind of relief. My pussy seemed a solid, mass of aches and pains, icy cold and burning all at once, sending sharp shards of pain lancing through my being. My breasts cried out for attention, filled with a deep pounding ache throbbing in time with my heartbeat. I could only imagine that the laces had begun to dry, and were now relentlessly tightening around my tortured breasts; squeezing them tightly in a grip of steel.

My legs were trembling uncontrollably now and felt so weak that I could barely hold myself up anymore. A fire burnt within my calf muscles and intermittently sharp stabs of pain would shoot through the muscles. I concentrated hard to maintain my position but was rapidly losing my orientation, no longer able to tell if I was shifting myself either up or down. Many long minutes passed as the panic grew within me again, but eventually I could hold myself no longer and sank down involuntarily, easing the strain on my nipples but driving the rod deep into my pussy again.

A sharp lance of pain tore through my pussy and the panic I’d been fighting arose to swamp me. Twisting and straining ferociously, I was now out of control as I struggled desperately against my bonds, seeking by sheer strength to break free of their embrace. I kicked out with my feet, ignoring the sharp pains that shot through my nipples in response, pushing and twisting to get some leverage to help me break free of my prison. Desperately I pulled downward with my arms against the ropes holding them in place and, in my wild bid for freedom managed, for a few brief moments to lift my pussy slightly off the bar that tortured it.

But in the end the bonds held me tight and, with my strength spent, I slumped back into place, my body drenched with sweat and my head hanging limply, chin resting on my chest. The bar was now driven deep into a pussy filled with endless anguish. Sharp shards of pain flayed at my soul, my pussy felt as though it was been whipped, burnt and frozen all at once, as every little twitch of my body sent fresh waves of suffering rolling through me. I couldn’t feel the floor with my big toes anymore, though my little toes were just touching and I realised that the cords tying my toes to the nipple clamps were now supporting my feet.

And so I hung while the hours ticked by and the torments of my body grew to become my whole universe. Beaten and broken by my own devices, exhausted and drained, I’d become little more than a rag doll, suffering in silence, unable to fight and certainly unable to escape. After a time I no longer even possessed the will to lift my feet and ease the pain in my nipples, instead allowing my feet to hang freely from the cords pulling on my nipple clamps. Time went by without meaning; the hood gradually drying out and tightening on my head was the least of my discomforts. My breast ached deeply, throbbing heavily with the beat of my heart, the cords binding them having dried out long ago. My nipples too cried with pain as the clamps continued to bite deeply into them, shafts of electricity tearing through them without end.

And my pussy, now a deep, black, bottomless well of suffering that engulfed my whole being. I no longer remembering a time when I had not suffered so; rather it seemed to me that I’d always been in this place, no longer a thinking being but instead just a thing that felt, suffered and endured. And so I drifted, outside of time and space, a small speck lost in a wilderness of torment.

It was only gradually that the transformation occurred, that the pain seemed tinged with a faint hint of pleasure. I can’t say why or how this happened, maybe it was a chemical response in my body, or perhaps I’d got to know the pain so well that I could appreciate a new facet of it. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the relentless working of the cheery little vibrator buzzing away deep within me that caused it. Whatever the reason, I found myself grasping onto that hint of pleasure, drawing it close, welcoming it back as I would a long lost friend. The transformation continued as small jolts of pleasure shot through the pain engulfing me, and I felt my body begin to respond as the first small hint of arousal started growing deep in my belly.

And so it continued as this first small seed of pleasure grew steadily within me, gradually shaping into a hard, solid nugget of arousal, getting larger and larger with each passing minute. In time it seemed to fill me completely, blending with the torments wracking my body; my judgement now washed away by the tide of sensations so I could no longer tell where the pain began or the pleasure ended. And still the feeling grew, till it seemed my body was suffused with a rapturous energy; a glow that seemed to permeate my entire being, sweeping me up into ecstasy until finally it burst forth upon me with all it’s might, an orgasm of monstrous proportions shattering within me.

My body went rigid in its bonds and I floated in heavenly bliss as orgasm after orgasm racked my helpless body. Each one seeming to blend and merge with the next and I was swept along on blissful waves of pleasure. I’ve no idea how long this continued, it seemed forever at the time, but gradually the intensity of the experience faded, the nirvana I had visited slipping away from me like a fleeting wisp in a fog. And so I returned to earth and my pain-wracked body once more and, lifting my head, I groaned through the gag as tears filling my eyes. Everything hurt, my pussy, my arms, my breasts and my nipples, all of them screamed loudly at me for relief as my head slumped forward again, my chin resting on my chest as the minutes slowly ticked by, unable to do anything about my situation and too weak to try.

I don’t know how long I hung like this, having long ago lost all track of time, but it seemed an eternity before suddenly there was a sharp crack above my head and I felt myself fall slightly. Oh what a relief that was as I suddenly found my feet flat on the ground again, and in that instant the strain on my nipples, while still been bitten by the clamps, eased significantly and no longer felt as if they were been torn from my body.

My hands were still trapped high up my back, and the wooden pole was still buried deep in my pussy, continuing to cause me untold anguish. Desperate to relieve the hurt in my pussy, I quickly lifted myself on my toes; straining to lift my pussy from the bar that was torturing me so. To my horror the bar didn’t shift from my cunt at all; instead I felt a strumming in the ropes holding my hands as the weight dropped yet again, instantly taking up the slack I had just put into the ropes.

Tears flooded my eyes as I realised my mistake, and the brief glimpse of respite was snatched away from me. I realised in a flash that while some of the ice had melted and slipped through the ring, the rest was still holding firm, allowing my monstrous creation to continue tormenting me, just as I’d intended it to. I now found myself right back where I’d started, though now with my toes on the floor with my heels raised about three inches. Within the hood tears streamed from my eyes as a sense of despair washed over me, crying for my stupidity, for the pains wracking my body, and for the relief  that I’d so carelessly just thrown away.

For several moments I tottered precariously, struggling to keep my balance and regain some equilibrium, all the while horribly aware of the dreadful torments of my flesh. Finally I regained my composure, steadying myself up on my toes and started to tug frantically at the ropes holding my arms. I’d had enough now, this wasn’t fun anymore and I wanted out, and so I desperately sought my freedom, tugging with my arms in the hope of breaking more of the ice by my efforts. However nothing happened as the remaining ice held fast, resisting my efforts, and it was at this point that a fresh fear gripped me, and I tugged frantically again at the ropes, hoping that I was wrong.

As I mentioned earlier, I’d deliberately designed in a small risk that I wouldn’t be getting free from my bondage and this chance was embodied in the padlock key I’d frozen into one of the ice-cubes. This key, while small enough to slip through the brass ring that held the ice bag was, at the same time, just longer than the width of that ring. This meant that, as the ice melted, whilst it was likely that the key would slip through the ring, there was a small chance that it would instead wedge itself across the ring. This would prevent the bag from slipping free even after all the ice had melted. I didn’t want that anymore, to hell with my games, I’d changed my mind, all I wanted now was my freedom and to give my aching body some much needed relief. A terror rose in my gut as, in my imagination, I saw the key wedged tightly across the width of the ring; a tiny piece of steel with total mastery over me, keeping me trapped in torment until Amy eventually came home and found me.

Desperately I pulled down with my arms again, panic and fear mingled to lend me strength as I lifted my toes from the floor. Hanging my whole weight from the ring above me I shook my body about in frantic efforts, ignoring the added strain this caused my arms and the pain of the bar as it ground into my pussy. My efforts were suddenly rewarded by another cracking sound from above as my body slipped downward and my toes hit the floor again. Taking some of my weight carefully on my feet I now found my heels only an inch or so off the floor. My relief was immense as I realised the key hadn’t wedged in place and I hung there, relatively calm for the minute as I waited for more of the ice to melt.

The minutes ticked by, punctuated by the slow drips of water hitting my bound head and the cold trickles as drops of icy water splashed over my breasts and back. Every few minutes I would give a sharp tug downward, lifting my feet from the floor for an instant, before quickly returning them as sharp pains lanced through my crotch. And I was rewarded in my efforts by the occasional sound of breaking ice, the bag slipping through the ring till I was able to stand flat footed once again, straining downward with my trapped arms to prevent the merciless weight from taking up the slack again.

As the moments passed I gradually inched closer and closer to freedom, my hands were now slightly lower down my back and the pole, that instrument of torment, no longer dug so painfully deep into my pussy. And finally it happened; giving a last tug on the ropes I felt them go slack, my arms slipping an inch or so down my back as the steel ring attached to the ice bag hit my shoulder. Stumbling on my feet briefly before slipping forward, I fell to my knees before regaining my balance, just managing to stop myself tipping forward to fall flat on my front. For a while I simply sat there, savouring the relief from the torment of my pussy, too tired and drained to do anything else as the moments drifted by. Eventually I stirred, aroused by the pain in my aching breasts and nipples and the torture that still gripped them.

My arms felt weak and rubbery, hardly willing to obey my commands as I struggled to twist them; working against the slack in the rope that joined them I slowly eased them down my back, till finally they were straight behind me. With trembling fingers I sifted through the ropes tangled behind me, finally finding the steel ring with the ice bag still attached. Prising the bag open I removed the key before fumbling for many minutes to insert it in the padlock of my left cuff. In time I succeeded and, having removed the padlock, soon had my wrist free from the cuff. I was able to work more easily now and, bringing my hands before me, quickly removed the cuff from my right wrist.

I now moved to my breasts, slowly and ever so carefully removing first the left clamp, and then the right, from my tortured nipples; gasping from the pain this caused me as blood began to flow back into my suffering nubs. Lifting my fingers to my mouth to wet them, I spent several minutes gently massaging my nipples, trying to ease the worst of the aches out of them. Running my hands over my swollen breasts, I could feel the blood pounding within them, the skin drawn taut as a bowstring as I fumbled blindly to undo the leather cords encircling them. It was a hopeless attempt, the cords had shrunk and tightened so much that I couldn’t release the knots I’d tied earlier. Instead, realising I needed my sight back, I reached up and shortly undid the padlock holding my hood in place. Once that was done, I quickly unbuckled the strap and started working to loosen the straps that clenched the hood so tightly on my head.

As the laces relaxed I felt the pressure on my head ease and was soon able to slip the hood off, peeling it away from my skin where it seemed to have stuck in place. Blinking at the sudden light, my eyes hurting from the glare, I looked down at my tortured breast in horror, seeing them swollen and coloured with a deep purple hue, gripped tightly by the cords encircling them. The knots holding the cords were shrunken tight and hard, and I picked at them vainly for several minutes before realising the only way to get them off would be to cut them. Taking the key again, I quickly unlocked the padlocks linking my ankle cuffs to the spreader bar and, rising to my feet, made my way unsteadily to my desk. Opening the draw I removed a long pair of scissors and, working carefully, slipped it under one strand of the cord on my left breast before snipping it in two.

Repeating the procedure with my right breast I then dropped the scissors on the desk before starting to unwind the cord from my tortured breast, gasping in pain as the blood started to flow again, peeling the leather back carefully where it had embedded itself deep in my flesh. Finally free of my bondage, my self-imposed ordeal over, I stumbled wearily over to my bed. Grabbing the heavy weight that now rested there I dragged it off, dumping it unceremoniously on the floor before peeling back the covers and crawling into bed. I curled up in a foetal position, gently massaging my cunt with my fingertips; the vibrator buried deep within my cunt was silent now but still filled me pleasantly and, before I knew it, I had drifted off into an exhausted sleep.

The End.

27.05.06