Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

A Slave in the Desert

by Legs

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2011 - Legs - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; rope; gag; nipple; breast; pins; pegs; yoke; bdsm; torture; torment; desert; outdoors; cons; XXX

WARNING Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy/warning only, to attempt this in real life may result in injury or death.  

I have visited several story sites and am always fascinated and inspired by the reading. I have been submissive and into bondage my entire remembering life and except for a few occasions have practiced SB. Some time ago I was captivated by a picture on a comic site and decided to see if I could make it a reality of SB. This is the story of that experience.

The picture was a female being forced to walk through a desert with a large beam across her shoulders, hands tied to the ends and straps from the beam circling her face. She was also dragging a beam behind her by a rope through her crotch and her knees were bound together. Thinking this a bit tame, to just walk while tied like that without the whipping etc., I tweaked the accessories to create more difficulty and torment.

After obtaining and/or making all the needed equipment, I took a few days off and headed for the desert. After positioning the equipment I parked my vehicle out of sight and prepared for the day. I had planed for a long hot day of multi scenes of torment, torture really, so I got right down to business.

I removed my clothing, always an exciting moment at the beginning of each SB session, and basked in the feelings of exhilaration and anticipation as the morning air danced on my naked flesh. Oh, me naked. I am a long legged five-ten, athletically built girl. Breast are 32C with large nipples, (long & thick) and I have long dark brown hair to the middle of my back. My breast, although not large they are neither small nor firm. My best description is they are round and oblong and because of their shape they are very bouncy and hang nicely when bent over.

Special equipment consist of two six foot long 4X4 inch beams. One to be dragged behind me weighing about ten pounds and the other to be on my shoulders. The second has been shaved and molded slightly to fit across the back of my neck. The other special equipment consist of three filled rubber balls altered so there are many six inch pins sticking out with two balls weighing one pound and the other weighing two pounds.

I arrange all the equipment so I can put it on quickly. A chain goes around my waist with a D-ring in back. A jute rope with mental clasps at each end is attached to a 4x4 beam ten feet behind me, then threaded through the D-ring, through my legs and connected to the front of the waist chain. Using the ring ensures the rope will be pulled into my pussy not just against the front. Next, I carefully pull my inner labia to either side of the rope and attach black clamps with waffle pattern pads to assure a firm grip, the two pound ball is attached to the clamps, stretching my lips three to four inches. The sharp pins keep my thighs separated making it impossible to walk normally.

The one pound balls are attached by clover clamps to my nipples. The pins here make sure I will always be in a bent position putting maximum strain on my nipples and breast. The clamps pinch deep into my big nipples forming a ball of nipple flesh in front of the clamp pads that quickly become super sensitive. The weight pull my breast into an elongated cone shape and the pain begins instantly. A large, heavy twenty inch long chain is attached to my toes by toe cuffs.

The other 4x4 goes on my neck with one strap across my forehead pulling my head tight against the beam. The lower strap pulls across my face at the mouth as it contains a large custom fit ring gag. I position the ring then buckle and lock both straps. Stretching my hands out near the ends of the beam I lock them in place.

My wrist are in single cuffs held in place by a small chain that goes from the cuff through three eyelets forming a horseshoe on the beam so I can reach the lock, but it pulls my hands out away from my body. I thought this would be the easiest part, but a couple hours like this and my arms and shoulders were aching so bad I felt like screaming, especially when I tried to use them or lower them later in the day.

Adorned in my forced traveling slave outfit I began my journey. Purposely I did not look to see when the rope dragging the 4x4, would pull tight. It wasn’t a surprise when it did, but the impact of the rope against my clitoris and the depth it attained in my pussy was an enormous surprise. As was the effort it took to move that beam through the sand. I now understood the look on the girls face in the comic.

For a few seconds I wondered about my ability (and intelligence) to complete this self imposed task, but I didn’t have a choice. If I wanted to be free I had to reach the keys.

This time when I started moving I eased into it, although the damage had already been done. I have a large protruding mound so the rope was pressing hard against my clitoris having pushed my hood out of the way so it could freely torture me. On its way to being buried deep inside me it scraped the inner sides of my stretched and now, extremely sensitive labia. Although I thought it impossible it seemed that the drag created by the sand and weight of the beam pulled the rope ever deeper.

The weighted clamps swung and bounced constantly, rubbing my labia against the rough rope as I waddled forward due to my closely chained toes and my bowed knees. The same was true for my nipples. The weights bounced and swung wildly causing my nipples and breast to be violently and painfully yanked about continuously.

It wasn’t even the heat of the day yet, but my body was soaked in sweat and some bugs were busy making use of me as their water supply. This was extremely annoying as they were mostly drawn to the most sensitive areas, nips and lips. However, there was nothing to do, but to trudge onward.

The heat and exertion began to really take its toll. I began making mistakes, like looking up to see what was in front of me. The weighted balls would swing hard into my tummy stabbing me with several of the pins. This would throw me off which led to missteps causing my legs to close and being stabbed there. I would jerk my body around to stabilize myself triggering more torment to my labia and nipples by the cruelly swinging weights. Usually I would have to stop, calm everything and start again.

This stopping and starting would produce more strain on the crotch rope adding pain to my labia, clitoris and vaginal opening. By this time my big toes were very sore as the toe (thumb) cuffs are not comfortable and the heavy chain, being dragged through the sand, was making my feet work very hard. The chain, as well as the beam being dragged was stirring up dust and I could feel it collecting on my sweaty body.

As I neared my destination I completely understood why I saw this pic on a comic site and not a live site. Although I was close this episode was really kicking my ass and I was so tired and beat both physically and mentally I made a terrible decision. I stopped. Bad! Bad! Bad! For not only did I stop, I tried to rest.

I knelt down on my knees, which were spread to avoid the ball and pins and I was in the bent position. I couldn’t stop what happen next as my upper torso was forced to the ground. It happened in slow motion giving me plenty of time to anticipate my terrible fate. When finished I was face down in the sand, mouth held wide open by the gag, my butt in the air and one of the weighted balls caught under my right breast. Several pins were stuck deep into my breast and nipple. I bawled and cursed my stupidity.

After some time and I have no idea how long as the pain was intense and mentally I was continuously flogging myself for this stupid decision, made when I should have known better. Finally I managed to get a hold of myself and think clearly for a few moments. In those moments I decided I could get out of this mess or die. My decision (as you know) was, whatever it cost me, I was getting out of this.

I had to get some leverage so I leaned to my left which picked the right side of the neck beam up. I would move it as far as possible, set it down and repeat for the other side. Somehow I ignored the stabbing (literally) pain in my breast as well as the stabs to my legs and labia until the ball moved back between my calves. Then I just had to cope with the further stretching of my labia and the rubbing on the rope as the ball would become stuck in the sand until my labia managed to pull it free.

Reaching the dragged beam I maneuvered the two into a position that allowed me to gain some leverage. Using every ounce of strength I could muster I finally achieved a kneeling position. However, the job was only half done, but I no longer believed I was going to die.

Not caring about the pain I straightened my back so as not to have a repeat performance of my stupid trick. The second nipple ball crashed into my tummy sticking there. The other ball was still firmly stuck to my right breast. Here again I made a dumb decision. I sat back (and down) onto my heels to gain resolve to stand. My sensitive tortured labia landed right on the ball between my legs. Stabbing my suffering lips with several pins. My reaction, although weak almost caused me to topple once more.

I gathered strength and stood, wobbling and feeling weak and light headed, but standing. Positioning myself to pull the beam again, I started to walk forward. I noticed the rope had actually loosened some and I dreaded the moment it would again be pulled deep inside and rubbing hard against my labia and clitoris. However, I was determined to get to those keys, no matter the cost.

I thought of leaving the ball pinned to my right breast where it was, but I was not able to cope with this. I had to lean forward and, best as I could, shake my breast until the pins came out and just deal with the consequences of that decision. The one pound ball dropped twelve inches before it was abruptly halted by the clamp biting fiercely into my tender nipple. Mentally I tried to prepare for that moment, but believe me I was not!

As the journey continued everything was back to normal except my mouth being filled with sand. My breast in their elongated cone shape were being stretched it seemed to the ground. My nipples were being pinched to the point the clamp pads seemed to be touching. My stretched labia and clitoris were being rubbed raw. My shoulders, toes, breast, nipples, clitoris and labia, in unison, were all screaming in agony. It could not have been a more successful adventure, despite my errors in judgment, up to that point.

It only took about ten minutes to reach my destination, maybe the longest ten minutes of my life. I won’t go into detail concerning my release except to say, the process was a long arduous adventure of pain and anguish. A torture all its own. Honestly though, except for the few moments I actually feared for my life, the entire experience was fantastic.

During the course of the episode I felt very much the captured slave being forced to march from my home to theirs, being tortured all the while. The extreme intensity and brutality of the situation provided a seldom felt combination of fear, pain, anxiety, as well as exhilaration and euphoria. The stimulation physically, mentally and psychologically was beyond belief and most certainly beyond anything I imagined it might be. It was truly the second best SB experience I have ever had. And yet, there is, “a rest of the story.”


The day so far had been grueling to say the least and after some water and food I had a choice to make. My options were to remain free and walk back to my vehicle allowing the warm air, sand and hot sun to caress and sooth my battered and bruised body. OR, use the toys I’d brought to continue my adventure and make the walk back difficult and painful as well. I sure didn’t carry all those toys way out here for nothing, so. . .

I was soon busy, readying myself for the next phase of my torture march. The waist chain with D-ring now had handcuffs attached at my lower back. Pre-measured cord attached to clamps were tied to my big toes and the clamps attached to my outer labia. These were short, forcing me into a squatting position. Three clothes pins (called pegs here) pinched each of my inner labia. Each of these carried four ounces of weight connected by a piece of rubber, flexible enough to bounce but not break. These were very difficult to apply as my labia were very tender and sensitive. The final preparation was to add an eight ounce weighted clit clip. Thus exposing my clitoris and having a constant heavy pull agitating it with each step.

Leaning forward to allow my breast to sway away from my body I applied twelve pegs to each breast. Straightening, the pegs would either hold my breast away from my body by poking into them or bend sideways twisting my pinched skin. I did stick one peg on each nipple, but it was the very last thing I did before cuffing my wrist. I wore the large ring gag and used two pieces of chop sticks behind my tongue stud forcing my tongue into a permanent position of sticking out of my mouth.

Impulsively I applied several pegs to my inner thighs, two to each ear, one in each nostril, two on each cheek and three on my upper lip. I attached two to my lower lip and tied a string to one, pulled the string down and under my breast and up to the other, so my lip would be pulled down. This enabled the drool to run freely and abundantly. I braided the back center portion of my hair while leaving the sides and top to droop down over my face. A looped rope was braided into the hair and was tied to an anal hook. This kept me in a fairly upright position. My hands were cuffed to the small of my back.

Bound in this manner, every movement was uncomfortable to some part of my body. I hadn’t walked more than a few minutes and my body was covered in a layer of sweat. As well, my chest and torso was covered with thick gooey drool. The combination of sweat and drool seemed to be a real magnet for every kind of flying critter in the area. To say they were annoying would be a colossal understatement. Especially those attracted to girl juices, bare pleasure buttons and wide open mouths.

My face ached with each passing minute. If you haven’t had clothes pins on your ears, lips or nose you have no idea the agony. My nipples and breast were in their own special agony as well as my labia. The miner due to already being severely tortured and the outer as they were being jerked and stretched to their capacity with each step. My thighs felt as though they were on fire being in a constant squat position as I walked.

Having my hands held firmly against my back and my hair hanging in my face made it especially tough to see and have stability. Having my head held straight made it impossible to see where I was putting my feet. The combination made for a torturous gait that led to many missteps or stepping on something that throw me off balance.

The jerking of my body and bending my head to see caused the anal hook to be pulled deeper inside me, yanking my hair, head and neck. This action then pulled the cord under my breast which made the pegs twist and further poke or pinch my skin. To correct my errors I would often try to straighten up, severely yanking on and stretching my labia. Any movement caused the weights on the pegs pinching my inner labia to bounce and swing adding more pain and anguish. As I said, each (and I mean each) step was grueling, agonizing and exhausting and grew worse with every step and passing minute.

Upon reaching my vehicle I suddenly remembered where my keys were and what I would need to go through to retrieve them. I had a fabricator make a spider looking device six feet long. The legs held the center box, where the keys were, eighteen inches off the ground. To reach the keys I would have to get down on my stomach and wiggle into that box. There was nothing to do but do it.

I dropped to my knees and waited in that position several minutes gathering courage. I lowered myself as close as possible to the ground before falling on a shoulder and rolling onto my front. Bound as I was this did not go well as my breast smashed into the rock and twig covered area. Yes, I had picked this spot on purpose. The anal hook snapped my head back just as my peg covered face fell into the sand and sticks. Mouth and tongue were now covered in sand, leaves and pine needles.

Well, I thought, I’m lying here in terrible pain, I might as well get the keys. Wiggling was not easy with my hands tight to my back and the anal hook pulling at my hair. Of course there was the issue of the pegs covering all parts of my body and not being able to stretch out my legs for fear of tearing my labia. This position forced my breast and pussy hard into the debris covered ground. Every movement was exquisite torture. I love it when a plan works out perfectly.

Upon obtaining the key I had to back out. The key I now had opened the box on my vehicle that held the cuff key. Well, I didn’t want it to be too easy. Backing out meant dragging my pegged breast over those twigs, rocks and needles again, but the worst was pushing through that debris with a super sensitive sore pussy with pegs poking into my labia, my slit and twisting & yanking that tender flesh in every direction.

Eventually I was out and free and had just one more segment of this excruciating journey. Again I had options, but I am not a quitter. I organized myself for the finishing leg.

Covering every inch of labia with pegs I sat behind my steering wheel. The clit clip remained, now with enough string the weights hung over the front seat but did not touch the floor. Leaning forward I attached the pre-tied (to the steering wheel) camps to my nipples and clitoris. I could hardly stand to do this as they were so tender and sensitive. Leaning back I secured my head to the rest by looping a belt through my mouth and buckling it behind the headrest. The anal hook also remained forcing my hips forward keeping me sitting directly on my pegged pussy. Five pegs pinched my lips together so I looked like some weird, wood long billed duck. My wrist were placed in the plastic cuffs attached to the steering wheel and I started my trip to retrieve all my equipment.

The road, if it could be called that, was bumpy and extremely curvy. With each bump I was stabbed by several pegs in my pussy and often the sensitive skin would be twisted. Each time the steering wheel moved my nipples and clit were yanked and twisted one way or the other. There was a constant pull on nipples and clit. In fact, the cord attached to them was so short my breast were pulled straight out away from my body into a bullet shape and my clit was stretched forth from its normal hiding place as well.

It was three miles to my original destination and due to driving so slow took nearly a half hour to reach. Each turn, twist, and bump in the road tormented my already severely tortured body. Although I was ecstatic that everything went so wonderfully today, I must admit I was very happy to see the end, or near end come. I had to put my vehicle up against a tree and wait for the ice to melt that released the knife to free my hands because I could not reach the key or gear shift.

Once completely free the equipment was gathered, packed and placed in the vehicle. I doused myself with cold water, after drinking my fill. A soft towel was put on the front seat and I proceeded to drive home, in the nude. Arriving home I took a look bath. Lying there in a state of euphoria, totally satisfied with the day my mind replayed the many astonishing and triumphant feelings of the experience and one nagging thought. Would it be possible to make it tougher?


If you've enjoyed this story, please write to the author and let them know - they may write more!
back to
selfbondage stories