Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

New Tricks for an Old Dog

by Marcia

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© Copyright 2005 - Marcia - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; cons; X

New Tricks for an Old Dog by Marcia
It is often said that you can’t teach old dogs new tricks.  How wrong this saying is because, despite my being classified as an old dog (just turned 58 thank you very much) by several agencies and institutions, I’ve learned several new tricks these past two years and I’m happier now than I’ve been in a long time.

Last winter we had we had a fairly severe snowstorm that dumped almost 20” and crippled most of our highways and side streets.  The plows in our community did not come through our neighborhood for two days and as a result we found ourselves cooped up with nothing more to do than watch TV, read, sew and cook, etc. 

On the first evening of our forced stay-at-home I decided to watch TV.  I had already finished a book I had started a few weeks before and my husband had gone to bed for the night (he’s, gasp!, 68 and was tired from shoveling the driveway and wanted to try to get an early start in the morning when the plow would come through and put all the snow back in front of our driveway again).

Scanning the listings on cable I was looking at the HBO and ShowTime movies and found one that I had never seen or heard of called Bound starring Meg Tilley.  I’ve always found that movies she is in are not too bad and considering the other choices that evening I decided to turn that one on.

Never having anything but vanilla relationships (see, I’ve even learned many of the expressions) going back to when I was in college and most certainly since I was married 35 years ago I had never been comfortable with the sex scenes in the movies today and certainly not with any of the other kinkier things some have shown.  But this time, for some reason, things were different.  In fact, a lot of things were different for me that night. 

The other woman in the movie, I forget her name (must be a senior moment), meets Meg and they become intimately involved.  At first it bothered me that the movie was showing that because I always felt that such scenes are not necessary if it is a good movie or even a bad one for that matter.  However, this time it was different for me because I found myself practically glued to the screen when the camera panned up Ms. Tilley’s legs while she was standing behind the woman that had come into the apartment to fix her sink (and all these years I thought all plumbers were over weight with droopy jeans displaying more cleavage in the back than most women do in front).  Anyway, things progressed from there and in a short time they are in bed, making love and talking about stealing a lot of money from the man she (Ms. Tilley) is with.  Without going on and on about the plot and everything else that happens (which I didn’t really pay too much attention to because I found myself otherwise occupied after a while) one thing leads to another and both women are eventually tied up and gagged by the man. 

The scenes that were violent in nature I won’t go into either but for some reason when I watched them being tied up and gagged feelings that I never knew I had were suddenly bubbling up inside me.  I started imaging myself tied and gagged but instead of the violent things that they were threatened with I imagined myself being touched and teased.  Almost absentmindedly my hands were rubbing my breasts and began to roam further down to my thighs and as I pressed my hands between my legs I was practically trembling with desire to do more.

As quickly as I could I opened my pants and pushed them and my panties down to my knees and as I kept touching and massaging myself and tweaking my nipples I just started to drift off into some sort light dream state and I could feel my legs trying to open wider but as they were restricted by my pants I could not open my legs as wide as I wanted and I started to imagine that my legs were tied with rope instead of being restricted by my pants/panties.

The orgasms I had were as intense as any I’ve ever had and, in some ways, much more fierce and concentrated wondering what the hell had just happened to me.  Leaning back on the couch I was half naked, exposed from my waist down, wet, and with nipples that seemed harder than they’d been in a long long time and I still had my hand cupping my pussy.  Lazily I might add, but still cupping it none-the-less.

I never went up to bed that night.  Instead I switched channels (the movie had ended) and put on one of those home decorating shows (after pulling my pants and panties back up) and I curled up under a small throw I keep on the couch and feel asleep until I was rudely awakened in the morning by Mr. Snow Shovel.  Almost instantly it all came back to me.  How the women were tied and how it made me feel and what I had done and when I went to shower my hands once again began to caress my breasts and pinch my nipples and it was a very short trip to my pussy as I used the bar of soap to rub my labia and clit.  It’s a good thing my husband has arthritis that sometimes causes him a lot of difficulty when standing because we had a seat installed at the end of the tub several years ago and if it weren’t for the seat I would have been on my back in the tub because of the intensity of the orgasm I was having (so I guess his arthritis was, that morning, a good thing – always a silver lining).

Have you ever become consumed about something and wouldn’t rest until you learned everything you could about it?  Well, that’s how I was that morning and ever since.  We may be old(er) but we do not live in the dark ages.  No abacus or oil lantern for us, no siree, we not only have electricity and indoor plumbing we have cable and a computer.  So after my bath adventure and a cup of coffee (with Mr. Snow Removal still working outside but I think talking more with our neighbors than working) I settled myself down in front of the pc and began to do some surfing.

How to start, what key words to search for.  Tied up, that got some results.  Bound, that got even more results (including a listing for last night’s movie), and finally, after a half-hour of nervously skimming through some sites I hit the jackpot by searching for bondage.  So many sites, so much to see, to learn about, to think about.  The wheels within my mind were spinning out of control as I went from one site to the next.  All the images flashing before me recorded in my memory bank for future reference as I thought of myself tied and gagged and blindfolded as those beautiful women were.  Suddenly I was no longer 57 year old married woman wearing a faded but awfully comfy flannel nightgown, I was one of the women whose photos I was looking at.  Restrictively tied, gagged with all sorts of things; scarves, balls, leather straps and other things I didn’t even have a name for.  Even the choice of ropes, straps and chains used were different.  And the clothing, lingerie and costumes, or lack thereof, were just as diverse. Like Rip Van Winkle I felt as though I had awoken in a strange new world and I couldn’t get enough of it.  For the rest of that week I was insatiable and tried to learn as much as I could.  I masturbated more in those few days than I had in months and each time I fantasized of being tied.

Which finally brings me to my first time tying myself up.  Dear reader, you didn’t think I would not at least tell you about it, did you?

My husband was going to Pittsburgh with his brother and our two nephews.  They had tickets for the Steelers football game and left early Saturday morning and would be staying in Pittsburgh on both Saturday and Sunday night not driving home until Monday morning (a good 8 hour drive from our house).  Now what is a horny old gal to do with so much time on her hands? 

First thing she does is pack him a nice lunch for the trip and waves goodbye from the front porch. 

The second thing she does is grab the car keys and drive to Home Depot to buy rope (which is another story all by itself.  Oh the things you can find there!).

After spending a casual two hours shopping I lugged my purchases to the car and put the bags on the front seat next to me.  Yes, I bought more than just rope, I bought some chains and locks and a couple of small wood working clamps and, well, lots of stuff all based on what I had read about and seen on the internet.

Before going home I also went to Macys at the mall and went straight to lingerie.  Not hard to find as that department is by the main entrance from the mall’s main walkway.  Now, I hadn’t bought these things in years so I got an extra thrill just making my selections.  Stockings and garter belt, a lovely lace slip, panties, bras and a little waist cincher with attached garters.  I have to admit that one of the sites I had gone to was devoted to corsets and so my wanting the waist cincher.

I almost decided to buy new heels but didn’t.  Since then I have but I decided against it that day and went home instead.

Once in the house I made sure the garage door was closed, inside the house I checked both the front and back doors to make certain they were locked too, and ran as fast as these old legs could take me upstairs to my bedroom where I laid all my purchases on the bed, sorting the ropes by size, the chains, locks, and so on, and last the lingerie. 

So frilly, so pretty, so wonderful to imagine myself dressed and tied in them.

Taking a quick shower (normally I have a tendency to linger in the shower) I was tempted to do more than just wash but wanted instead to get back to the bedroom and put my plans to work.

It’s funny, I hadn’t worn stockings in years but as I put them on it felt as natural as when I was younger and as I attached the garters I felt a definite tingle of excitement building even more inside me as I put on the lace panties and bra.  Standing in front of the mirror I looked at my reflection and liked what I saw.  Please understand, I’m not talking about the “physical” me, I’m not pretty, fairly plain in fact, but what I saw and liked so much was me glowing.  I don’t think I can come up with a better word to describe it.  Glowing seems right.  Even today, when I “dress up” I feel like I’m glowing inside.  It’s a rush and I love it, almost as much as being tied up.

Going to my closet I picked out an old cocktail dress I hadn’t worn in ages.  A pretty wine red wispy thing with spaghetti strap and a low cut bodice.  The hem comes short of my knees a couple of inches and although I hadn’t worn it in ages it still fit fairly well.  A bit tight in a couple of places I’ll not mention just now but still it fit okay. 

Shoes were next and I chose a pair of black pumps with two-inch heels.  Since that day I have expanded my shoe collection but at that time they were the highest I had.

Before going back to the bed to select the rope I was going to use I went back to the bathroom to brush my hair and put on my makeup.  Silly when you think about, but if my hair isn’t brushed and makeup not applied I wouldn’t be “dressed”.

Finally I was ready for my first adventure.  Having read a lot of stories and articles about the art and hazards of self-bondage I made sure that I had a couple of sharp steak knives and a pair of scissors that I would place on the floor just in case I couldn’t untie myself.

Picking up the quarter inch ropes that I had them cut to ten and fifteen foot lengths I sat on the edge of the bed and began by tying my ankles.  I was going to tie them so that one crossed over the other but quickly found that standing with them tied like that was not easy and certainly hopping around like that would be out of the question.  So I tied them side by side and like a good student of bondage used the ends of the rope to cinch all the windings quite snug, but not too tight (I thought anyway). 

Next I tied my knees, above and below, and then wound some more rope around my upper thighs.  I had no idea why the upper thighs are tied but they always looked so pretty in the pictures so I tied a rope around my thighs too.

I had already begun to get excited while tying my legs and my breasts felt swollen and my nipples were most definitely hard and I hadn’t even touched them yet.  My breathing was a little shallow as well, and not from the fact that I had been bending over and tying my legs. 

Using a longer rope, about 25 feet, I looped it over my breasts and began to wind it as tight as I could above and below and crossed between my breasts.  It took some time figuring out the best way to wind the rope but eventually got it so it was pretty tight and my breasts were squeezed very nicely.  I couldn’t resist touching my breasts and almost started to lift the hem of my dress so I could touch my pussy but I knew if I did that it would ruin everything so I managed to stop myself from going any further and picked up an old pair of panties and a scarf so that I could gag myself.

After putting the panties in my mouth I realized that they weren’t really filling my mouth that much so I went to get a second pair from my dresser.  That’s when I found out that the rope around my ankles was tighter than I thought it was.  When I stood up I could feel my ankles being pressed together much more tightly and as I tried to hop over to the dresser I realized that it was not going to be as easy as I thought and I had to put my hand on the edge of the bed and then on the edge of the dresser to keep my balance so I could get the panties.  By the time I got back to sitting on the bed again my ankles hurt just a bit but I could also feel how they felt better without the extra tightness caused by the rope.  If I was going to tie myself so that I had to stand in the future I made a note of making sure that I didn’t tie them quite this tight.

I also loved how my breasts felt as I hopped to and from the dresser.  They bobbed a bit but the way they were compressed felt oh so good too.

Putting in both pairs of panties wrapped inside one of the scarves so I wouldn’t choke accidentally I wrapped two more around my mouth and tied them all behind my neck.  Testing how effective the gag was I was surprised to find that I was able to make quite a lot of noise and I could also talk, with difficulty, but well enough to be understood.  Just not as loud as normal.  Since then I have learned to use other gags and have found that no gag prevents you from making noise.  Tape is best to ensure you can’t say anything intelligible but you can still make noise from your throat and nose.

Getting on the floor was my next big step.  Much more difficult to do when your legs are tied than I would have thought but once on the floor I picked up the last two pieces of rope I was going to use for my first tie-up and after sitting back against the side of the bed I wound the first rope around my waist and knotted it in front. 

I was already very excited and knew that I had to tie my hands or I would just pick up my dress and put my fingers in my pussy and I wouldn’t stop until I had (at least) one orgasm.  I didn’t want to do that, I had come this far and I was determined to finish tying myself up.

On a few sites on the internet I tried to learn how to tie my hands behind my back and not get loose easily.  I had practiced this with my hands in front of me first then behind my back several times while reading the instructions online but this was the first time that it counted so I tried to do it as best I could.

I used a slip knot and after making several loops just big enough for me to put my hands through I tied the end of the rope to my ankle rope and then, after laying on my stomach, I grabbed the ends of the rope and put them through the rope around my waist.  I began pulling on the ends from my ankles and when my feet were up and I could feel my calves begin to touch my thighs I tied the ends of the rope around my ankles and knotted them on the far side of my ankles so it would be difficult to reach the knots.  Easier to describe how to do it than doing it.  It took me a bit of trial and error to finally get this done and I have to admit that I almost thought I wouldn’t be able to do it. 

After the rope was tied I put my hands through the rope loops that were still dangling from my waist rope and when I pulled my feet away from my ass the slipknot tightened the rope around my wrists.  Very snugly, very securely as I discovered when I tested to see if I could wriggle my hands loose.

I was now tied and gagged, laying on the floor of my bedroom, picturing myself tied like all the other women I’ve seen on the internet and I loved how it felt.  As began to wiggle to see how much flexibility I had, how easy or hard it would be to move around if I had to get to the knives or scissors, I began to rub my breasts and nipples on the rug as well as my pussy. 

This was so much better than sitting on my couch with my pants down by my knees.  I couldn’t move much and I was becoming more and more frustrated each time I tried to rub myself on the rug.  So close at times only to have to stop because of the frustration and all the wriggling.  I needed to rub more and more and when I pressed my pussy down on the carpet my breasts felt the rope around them tightening and it all just kept me on edge.  Finally, after I don’t know how long, I had such an intense orgasm that my body stiffened and as I came again I could feel everything spinning and rushing through me.  I had never cum so hard and I loved it.  I never wanted to be untied I thought as I kept humping the carpet and sort of semi-rolling to my side and then back again, as heavily as I could, on my breasts.  The expression “I died and went to heaven” came to mind when I laid there worn out from both the orgasms and the bondage.  The rope held me like a warm embrace, a tight hug or squeeze by a lover.  I was literally in a fog and loving every minute as I just let myself go and relax against the ropes. 

How long it took me to recover, again, I don’t know, but when I did I thought that I should untie myself and then get on to the next thing I wanted to do.  I tried to get my hands out of the loops but with all the pulling and twisting I did I couldn’t manage it and had to get to one of the knives or scissors and that’s when I learned that wanting to move somewhere when hogtied is easier to think of doing than doing. 

I couldn’t believe how difficult it was to squirm my way to the knife.  Even on the carpet I was having difficulty moving very far with each wriggle, moving the thighs here, then there, trying to lift my breasts so I could move toward the knife.  Harder than I imagined but at the same time very interesting as I once again began to get more than just a little stimulated and after having gone only about five feet or so needed to stop moving toward freedom and start moving toward another orgasm.   This orgasm took me much longer to achieve than the first two but it was still almost as intense and breath taking.  It also marked the first time in years that I had cum so often in such a short period of time and although I was well on my way to exhaustion it felt so damned good I didn’t care if I never got loose. 

But when I came back down to earth I did care, my ankles were hurting from the ropes because I had pulled too hard on them and I could feel the beginnings of numbness in my feet and hands.  So I knew that I had gone too far this first time and that I had to get loose. 

After several more minutes I did manage to get to one of the knives and after I cut the rope from my ankles to my waist rope and wrists I stretched out my legs and it felt so good. 

An hour later I was still dressed and downstairs in the family room where I set up one of the dining room chairs in front of the TV.  Almost all of the rope marks on my wrists and ankles were gone and I was wanted to try being tied to a chair for while.  It was still early in the day and I had lots of other things to try so with the chair next on the list I began.

Today I am still doing self-bondage, my husband had a minor stroke and can not assist, but I have also talked with several wonderful people online who have given me advice about self-bondage and one gentleman, another old dog (but he learned his tricks years ago) has been good enough to have to visit me a few times when I am home alone and I have had the good fortune and opportunity of experiencing bondage by his hand.  But all that and my own self-tying can be told another time.  I haven’t even finished telling about my first day/weekend yet.


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