Hang Tough

We live right next to a golf course, and my husband George is an avid golfer, to the point where he owns his own golf cart, and he can take the cart directly over to the clubhouse at tee time.

I don’t like to play golf.  I tried it a few times but I am not very good at it, and it just doesn’t excite me.

So while my husband plays golf I play with self-bondage.  He is usually gone for several hours, which is just about the right length of time for me to be ready to be released when he returns.  He always takes advantage of whatever situation I have gotten myself into and makes me suck him or otherwise service him before he releases me, and so we both enjoy my self-bondage.

And I enjoy being tied up hand and foot.  I like having someone else make my sexual decisions for me (preferably my husband, but never say “always or never”).  When I was a kid playing “Cowboys and Indians” with the other kids, I was always the one that wound up being tied to a tree and being groped by the boys.  The “Story of O” is one of my favorite books, and we own a hard bound copy that sits on our coffee table.

One of my fantasies has been to be hanging by my wrists with my toes just off the floor.  I went to my favorite hardware store and found two hooks called “J-hooks”  (probably because they look like the letter “J”).  They have a little ball at the tip of the “J” (this became important!).

Our spare bedroom is also our dungeon, and we have a wood frame constructed from 4” by 4” lumber that we use for suspension bondage.  It looks a little like a child’s swing set with no swings.  I have occasionally spent some time in the “strappado” position under this frame with my ankles spread and my head down and my ass exposed.  Just thinking about it makes me wet.  I tinkered with the wood frame until I found the correct height for the “J-hooks” that if I was suspended by my wrists my outstretched toes would be several inches off the floor.

On Saturday George had a 9:00 A.M. tee time and he headed out on his golf cart.  I ate a light breakfast and took a shower in preparation for my self-bondage adventure.

For my suspension self-bondage, I decided to be naked.  Sometimes when I do self-bondage I dress up in slutty outfits, with a garter belt and thigh-high black nylons and a bra that is several sizes too small.  This time I stripped down completely and folded my clothes neatly on top of the dresser.  I buckled on locking leather wrist straps and placed a stool under the location of the “J-hooks” on the frame.  As a final measure, I inserted a ball gag in my mouth and buckled it on good and tight.

I was already hot and horny, and I rubbed my wet crotch, stopping just short of an orgasm.  I didn’t want to cum yet because it would take the edge off.

Instead I stepped up on the stool and slid my leather wrist cuffs down over the “J-hooks”.  I flexed my knees and tested how it would feel to hang by my wrists.  Taking a deep breath, I stepped off the stool and kicked it out of reach.

It felt great!  I was a happy prisoner, hanging like a slab of meat.  I’m a tough little broad, and doing chin-ups has always been easy for me.  I brought my ankles together and assumed the shape of the letter “Y”.  I did the split with my legs and assumed the shape of the letter “X”.  I rode an imaginary bicycle and tipped my head back and laughed through my gag.  I brought both knees up to my chest in a sort of a deep knee bend.  I found that no matter how I stretched my toes would not touch the floor, and I was supported only by my wrists.

I also found that I could not bring myself to an orgasm, no matter what gyrations I went through.  My groin burned like a hot poker, and my thighs were wet.  After some “hang time” I decided it was time to end this game and have an orgasm, and I tried to support myself with one wrist while I slipped the other wrist cuff off of the “J-hook”.

And I found that I could not do it!  My weight made the wrist cuff tight enough that it would not slip past the ball at the tip of the “J-hook”!  No matter how hard I tried, I could not get either wrist free!

I was stuck.  I hung limply by my wrists trying to think of a way to escape, but none came.  The realization that I was a true prisoner made me even hornier, and I squirmed and turned with no result.

My toes hung just a few inches off the floor.  No matter how I stretched I could not alleviate the weight on my wrist cuffs.  Sweat trickled down from my armpits.  I tilted my head back and looked at the ceiling while my hair hung down to my shoulder blades.  Drool from my gag dripped down onto my breasts.

Time passed but there was way to measure it.  My groin burned and my thighs longed for attention.  I slipped into a sexy daydream in which I was a captive of pirates who had me hanging naked from a yardarm on their ship while they consumed rum and gambled to see who would get me first.

Potential release came in the form of my husband, George, returning from his golf game.  He walked around me, taking in my predicament and savoring the sight of his wife hanging naked and helpless.  He ran his fingers up my armpits and tickled me (I am ticklish).  He stroked the bottom of my feet (also ticklish) and I kicked out to get away (until he threatened to also tie my ankles).  He played with my breast and my nipples until I moaned with pleasure into my gag.

Since George is a few inches taller than I am, my hanging bondage state put our faces at the same level.  He smirked at me and wiped the drool from my gag around on my breasts and abdomen.

Taking some drool on his finger for a lubricant, he plunged his finger into my ass while simultaneously invading my vagina with his thumb.  It felt great!  Deep in my entrails, his thumb and finger stimulated my most intimate parts.  I tilted my head back and moaned with pleasure and humped against his hand.  When I was almost ready to come, he withdrew.  I humped the air in frustration to no avail.  The air reeks of sex.

Stepping back, George slid out of his clothes.  Removing his belt, he strode around my dangling body while slapping the belt against his thigh.  I squirmed in anticipation the blows that were apparently about to arrive.

Crack!  The belt across my dangling buttocks made me shriek against the gag.  Crack!  Another blow, this time across my thighs.  There will be black and blue marks, and it will be difficult to sit down for a day or so.

But now George dropped the belt and removed my gag.  I worked my jaws gratefully, glad to be able to speak again.  Since we are about at the same height because of my hanging position, he kisses me long and passionately.  At the same time he grabs each of my buttocks and spreads my legs and slides his dick into my wet vagina.

George has a nice dick and I am very fond of it.  He is big and hard and I am almost impaled on it and it feels great and I blubber like the happy prisoner that I am.  He plunges hard against me and feels like he is stretching my body to the limit.

Suddenly I realize something else.  In George’s embrace, my weight is no longer on my outstretched leather wrist cuffs.  Now that there is some slack, I am able to free my wrists from the “J-hooks”.  I embrace George enthusiastically as he holds me off the floor.  I wrap my legs around him and dig my heels in the small of his back and surrender to a mind-bending orgasm.  My head spins and I almost faint from the sensations while George also comes.  I can feel his hot juices spurt inside me and he staggers across the room, still holding me up.

Later, our breathing returns to normal and our sensations subside.  I look up at my “J-hooks” and think about raising them a few inches so I can hang a naked George up there with his toes off the floor!

20.12.04