Longest Day

I haven’t had the opportunity to have many self bd adventures recently, primarily because my wife has been watching me pretty closely ever since she caught me last summer (see Red Handed).  However... she can’t watch me forever, and last weekend I finally got the chance to have another adventure. I like to keep things simple - it limits the number of things that can go wrong... and I had been formulating a delightfully simple plan for several months. However... I forgot that even though the bondage and the scenario might be simple, dealing with the results mentally can be much more complicated.  I’ll explain...

We live in a neighborhood of older houses.  Our back lawn is quite deep and is surrounded by a 6 foot wooden fence and has lots of large, old trees.  Its fairly secluded back there.  Early in the summer, I set up a large 3-man dome tent for my kids, and sometimes when I need a little peace and quiet, I go back there and lie inside, zip up the door, and just enjoy the solitude.
And that’s where I got the idea for my adventure.

My wife and kids left for the beach on Friday evening and I set to work immediately.  I took a large pile of blankets and pillows out to the tent and spread them out, making a cozy little nest.  I also left a couple of water bottles there.  Then I drove to the mall and purchased a white, nylon body stocking from the lingerie store, a pair of too-small white, control-top pantyhose, and a roll of cheap duct tape.  I was so excited by the time I got home, I wanted to put it all on right then and jerk off.  But I controlled myself. I wanted to save it all for tomorrow.  I put these items in a bag with some handcuffs and a small ball gag.

My adventure was going to start early, so I set my alarm to 5am, then stayed up half the night watching movies so I would be good and tired the next day. When my alarm went off, I jumped out of bed and got started - I knew if I stopped to think I’d probably back out.  And if I didn’t get out to the tent and get everything set up before daylight, it would be too late. I put on a pair of tight, stretchy panties and some shorts, grabbed my bag and headed for the back yard. It was completely dark out there and all my neighbors lights were off.  I took the keys for the cuffs and slipped them under a rock about 20 yards from the tent.  Then I set my bag of goodies inside the tent and took a deep breath.  The moment of truth.  Back out now. or follow my fantasies.
I took off my shorts, wadded them up, and threw them into the bushes near the garage.  Then I stood there in the wet grass, wearing nothing but the white panties.  The eastern sky began to light up and I knew I’d better get to work soon.  So I crawled into the tent and began my adventure.

First, I pulled on the control-top pantyhose – man were they tight.  Then I slid into the body stocking. What a feeling that was, to be completely encased in silky nylon.  I resisted the urge to stop right there, and continued with my plan.  I took the duct tape and wrapped it around my waist several times, taping the handcuffs in front of me, so I would have enough room to reach my cock and balls, but not much else.  I made sure to end the tape job at my back where I wouldn’t be able to reach it once the cuffs were locked. Then I lay down and started to work on my legs.  I started by wrapping the duct tape around the tops and bottoms of my feet, then around my ankles, so my feet were completely immobilized.  Then I wrapped my lower legs, knees and thighs until I had used up half the roll.  Again, I ended the taping job behind my thighs where I wouldn’t be able to reach it once the cuffs were locked.  I tested my legs, and realized they were completely restrained.  I had never taped myself before, so this was a new feeling.  My legs could move a little, sliding inside the stockings, but they sure weren’t going to get free.

Then I started with my upper body.  I remember thinking, as I set to work, that I hoped none of my neighbors were awake and wondering why my tent was shaking in the back yard.  I wrapped the tape around my shoulders and started working my way down. Unfortunately, as I said, this was the first time I had every taped myself, so I wasn’t long before it was one tangled mess.  That was the bad news.  The good news - it was effective.  And it was going to be one bitch to get off.  I would pull out a good 3-4 feet of tape, then lay down and roll onto it, then sit up and roll out some more.  Soon, I could only pull out 2 feet. and I couldn’t sit up too easily.  Until finally, I just had to roll against the tape, rolling over and over until it was used up.  The tape ended near my right shoulder, well away from where my hands would be able to reach once they were cuffed.

It was getting light by the time I had finished taping myself.  I was taped from my shoulders to my waist, and from my upper thighs to my feet.  I had about a foot of open area for my crotch.  I had just enough freedom for my hands and wrists that I could reach my cock, and not much else.  I leaned forward and found that I would be able to get the ball gag on with some difficulty, but decided to save it for later. And now there was really nothing else to do but get comfortable.  So I snapped the cuffs around my wrists, laid back on the blankets and jerked off, reveling in the restriction of the nylon and duct tape.  It did not take long before I was really ready to burst, and when I could hold it no longer, I rolled up onto my back with my legs in the air, hung my cock over my face, and milked out a huge load.  It covered my face, going in my eyes and all over my lips and cheeks.

I lay back down and tried to catch my breath.  I licked my lips a few times, and then, exhausted, fell asleep.

When I woke up, it was midday.  I could hear several lawn mowers running.  And I really had to pee.  This was going to be interesting.  I squirmed to the door, and slowly zipped the bottom open.  It was difficult to move without shaking the whole tent, so I had to go very slowly.  Stuck in my position, and unable to get up to my knees, I could see only about 10 feet of grass under the door.  Was somebody in the back yard, or was I completely alone.  I listened and heard nothing but lawn mowers.  I squirmed to the door, stuck my dick out the crack, and relieved myself. 
And now the reality of my situation began to sink it. I was going to be here a long time.  This was no longer a joke.  I was going to be in the shade for most of the day, but it was already getting warm in the tent, and my legs and upper body were beginning to get sticky.  I was hungry, but I would survive that with no real problem.  I also was thirsty.  So I pulled the tent zipper closed again, which took some effort, and squirmed over to my water bottles.  I crawled until I could reach one with my hands, then pulled the top open.  Then I had to set it down and squirm backwards until it was at my face.  I leaned forward and got my lips around the top of the bottle, then sucked some water out.  But not too much.  I didn’t want to go through the peeing ordeal any more that necessary today.

I squirmed back down and put the cap back on the bottle, then rolled back onto the blankets and wondered what to do now.  Since there was really nothing else to do but sleep, I thought I’d try jerking off again and see if I could fall asleep for a few more hours.  I started into a great fantasy about being discovered by my neighbors wife - how she would take pictures of me, then make me satisfy her orally, today and any other time she wanted it, or she would send the pictures to my wife, anonymously.  It didn’t take too long to get off - I was still pretty turned on by my restricted position - and soon came for the 2nd time that day, all over my hands and crotch.  I lay back and closed my eyes, but this time, sleep wouldn’t come.

I was really beginning to get uncomfortable, and I really wasn’t tired.  I was unable to do much of anything except squirm.  And now my hands were a sticky mess.  So, I figured I’d play with the ball gag for a while.  I squirmed over to it and grabbed it with my teeth, then curled up into a ball so I could strap it around my head.  Then I lay back and thought about my predicament.  This is what I wanted, I suppose.  Long term bondage.  No real hope of escape until well past what I would normally allow myself.  I was trapped.  Completely.  The only thing missing was a hot bitch who wanted to shove my head between her thighs.

But it was getting hard to fantasize with my increasing discomfort.  I rolled back up and unhooked the ball gag, then lay back on the pillows.  Be careful what you wish for, I thought.  Cause this is a real bondage situation.  I was going to be here for several more hours.  It was mid-afternoon.  I wasn’t going outside the tent until after dark.  And I wasn’t going to get back into my house until late, after all my neighbors had gone to bed.  I couldn’t risk traveling across the back yard wearing nothing but a pair of panties until I was sure no one would see. 
I lay back with a hopeless sigh, and tried to jerk off again.  But I was just too uncomfortable, and too overwhelmed by the situation that I finally gave up. The neighborhood hummed with life around me.  I could hear a few mowers, and some kids playing nearby.  I hadn’t really worried about being discovered.  My neighbors wouldn’t come snooping.  But time for me was frozen.  I was in another world, and freedom seemed a long way off.  And I was really starting to get uncomfortable.  The control-top pantyhose were beginning to seem like a bad idea.  It was too restricting, and I was unable to push them down more than a couple of inches.

I drifted off for a little while, probably a couple of hours.  And this time, when I woke up, things were much worse.  It was late afternoon and the sun was beating down on the tent through a break in the trees. I was sweating.  A lot.  My body stocking was soaked. I was soaked, head to toe.  My face and hands were sticky.  I was hungry.  And I wanted to move my legs. I wanted freedom.  And I knew I wasn’t going to get it. I had to pee badly again, and I was just about to start squirming to the door of the tent, when I froze. My neighbors were out in their garden.  They were about 25 feet away, on the other side of a 6 foot wooden fence.  They didn’t know I was here.  But if I started moving, they would know right away that something was going on in my tent.  I could hear them talking as they worked.  I figured if I stayed where I was, I would pee all over myself. 
So I very slowly and gently inched my way to the door of the tent.  I went as smoothly as I could, but I’m sure the tent was
moving.  They didn’t seem to notice, as their conversation continued.  I unzipped to bottom of the door about three inches, prayed there was no one in my back yard, then stuck my dick outside and pee’d. I lay there by the door, breathing the sweet, cool air from outside, and waited for my neighbors to go away.

After a long time they left.  But I hardly noticed.  I had other problems.  I was coming unglued mentally. I had never completely submitted during bondage.  I had always managed to have some control over the situation - the people I had done it with had either been inexperienced, or unwilling to take me over the edge.  I had always felt the ability to back out before things got too real.  But this time was different.  I was not in control.  I was more uncomfortable that I had ever been.  And I was claustrophobic.  I began to writhe about, trying to loosen the duct tape on my upper body.  And the more I moved, the more sweaty and uncomfortable I became. 
Until finally, I began to cry. Not just a few tears.  But uncontrolled sobs.  Tears of frustration.  Tears of discomfort.  And, deep inside, I realized they were also tears of submission.

I had come to the place that everyone who fantasizes about submission, dreams of.  It is a place I had never been before.  And I wasn’t sure I really wanted to be there.  There were a few tears of despair mixed in, I’m sure.  But before I lost it completely, my mind took control, and I began to understand what was expected of me at this point.

True submission involves more than just having all control taken away.  It also involves acceptance of the situation.  An act of obedience to show that I realize where I am, and that I am willing to be here. And since I was no longer in charge, I had to accept what was in charge.  Not the tape.  Not the body stocking.  All those things could be removed.  No, what controlled me was a simple pair of handcuffs.  A couple of pieces of steel.  And a key that might as well have been 20 miles away.  And that’s when I began to understand the true nature of submission.  I was not submitting to a person. I was submitting to the bonds, the cuffs, the bondage itself.  And I could either fight it, or submit.  I chose the later.  And I believe I chose well.

Still sobbing, I rolled back onto the blankets and grabbed my cock.  It was soft, but I tugged on it like I was trying to stretch it a mile.  I jerked off so hard my body was shaking.  And the harder my cock got, the tighter I gripped it.  And I thought about nothing else but squeezing an earth-shattering orgasm from my balls.  I worked my way over to the ball gag so I would be sure to cover it with cum.  The act of complete submission was the controlling force in my life, and I intended to do the only act of submission my bonds would allow me to do.  And I realize now that I was crying harder than ever thoughout.

It built like a wave, and when I let loose, the cum poured out of me in massive globs, covering the ball gag and everything around it.  While still milking my cock, I leaned forward and took the ball gag in my mouth, closing my eyes as I sucked it into my mouth, feeling the cum on my tongue, feeling it stick to my cheeks as I rubbed my face into the blanket.  I let go of my cock long enough to tighten the straps around my head, then lay my head back onto the blanket, milking the last few drops of cum out of my cock, my head resting in the warm stickiness.

I didn’t exactly fall asleep.  Passed out is more like it.  But I remember lying there, sucking on the ball gag, trying to lick it clean, trying not to choke on the thick liquid.  When I awoke, it was well after dark.  Everything was now ok except for the ball gag, which was killing my jaw.  I gently unbuckled it and let it fall from my mouth.  But I didn’t move yet.  I just lay there and thought about what I had done that day - what I had learned about bondage. and what I had learned about myself.  For some reason, now that freedom was at hand, I seemed in no hurry to find it. It was only the need to pee again that motivated me to action, and I began the long process of squirming out into the night to find my keys.

I listened to make sure it was quiet in the neighborhood, then slowly unzipped the bottom of the tent.  Squirming around inside the tent had been relatively easy.  But now I had to get through the door and across the lawn, and it was going to be a lot more difficult.  I made it out of the tent, into the cool wet grass, squirming along, first on one side, then the other, resting occasionally on my back.  When I could hold it no longer, I finally peed right where I was.  I didn’t even bother to roll over onto my side.  And why would I need to?  It was my final act of submission to my steel mistress.

I made it over to the stone wall, keenly aware of how exposed I was in the evening darkness.  The grass felt cool and soft, and I no longer felt the claustrophobic need to be free.  When I did lift the rock, I got a bit of a shock.  The key was not there.  In my haste in the morning darkness, I must have put it under one of the other rocks.  So, I slowly wriggled my way along the wall, feeling under each rock until I felt my keys, a good ten feet away from where I had started.

Once my hands were free, a wave of sadness swept over me - but only for a moment.  I was leaving behind one freedom in exchange for another.  And I didn’t know how long it would be until I came back. I reached, with great effort, to get the tape started, and then realized that the sound of ripping tape would surely attract attention.  So I had to go quite slowly.  I squirmed over to a garden stake and tied the loose end of the tape around it, then slowly began rolling away.  Anyone who saw me would surely be amused.  Once my arms were finally free, I started freeing my legs.  Sitting there now, in the wet grass in the middle of my back yard, I felt both frightened and liberated.  Once my legs and feet were free, I started gathering up tape, while crawling back to the tent on my hands and knees.

It was still too early to try and cross the backyard, so I crawled back into the tent and stuffed the tape, cuffs and gag back into the back.  I slowly peeled off the body suit, and then, with great relief, peeled off  the pantyhose.  Then, wearing only my panties, I slowly flexed my muscles, and took stock of my situation.  I’m sure I looked like I had been rode hard.  My face and crotch were sticky.  My arms and legs were crisscrossed with red lines from the tape. And the body stocking looked like it had been run through a blender.

I lay there thinking about the day until my neighbors finally turned off their lights, then headed inside for a glass of bourbon and a hot bath.  I fell asleep, completely nude, on top of the covers, and didn’t wake until well into Sunday morning.
And now that I have tasted true freedom, I need to find a way to go back. but not right away.