The Snowsuit

Maryanne was a strong, tough young Lady. While she was married and happy enough, she had never failed to let her husband know, well, not exactly who was boss, but how far was too far. At times, she needed her space and let said hubby know about it in no uncertain terms, not caring overmuch if he agreed or not.

Now was such a time, when she went up to their cabin in the Colorado Rockies, and would be joined by Mike only in 2 days. During that time, she could take the long walks deep in nature that she claimed were so good to «clean up her headspace».

Mike hadn't been too bad about it, even though she knew that he would much rather have been up there with her and spending quality time in the bedroom, which he let her know, he would be happy to do more often and for longer periods.

Come to think of it, he'd actually been quite nice about it, not only not grumbling, as he would normally have, but even giving her a surprise gift, which she was told would make her walks more interesting.

So there she was, on this brisk but clear morning, with a full two days alone, free to do as she pleased. She opened the package that Mike has given her. What could the surprise be? She soon found out. It was a snowsuit! His note read: «dear, I know how much you love to walk and hike when you are alone. At this time of the year, it can get quite cold, so I got something that will keep you warm, even if you stay out for the long stretches you favor. Hop into the suit, put your boots on, lock the cabin, and off you go. Because I know your hands and face tend to get cold, I chose a design that has special pockets for handwarming, and a hood that can enclose your head including your face. So, enjoy your gift, and have fun!»

Oh Mike was a darling! How considerate and selfless of him to let her have time away from him, instead of making her feel guilty about it. She immediately decided that this was too exciting to wait, she would go out, and see if this suit was as good as Mike said. She found the instructions, glanced over them, saw that the suit could double as a sleeping bag, and put them in a suit pocket, intending to read later if there was something she needed. She felt the inside of the suit: it was lush satin! She loved the feel of satin on her skin. So she decided to wear the suit without any clothes or underwear. That made her feel horny, satin always did that to her. Did Mike know? So she decided, why not go whole hog, and indulge herself? Before donning the suit, she fed her favorite vibrator into her love channel, with fresh batteries, and set it on low. Enough to keep her aroused but not make her cum. Which would be for when she came back...

She donned the suit, and it just felt incredible. Touching her skin everywhere, but not too tight or oppressive. She felt that there was another layer on top of the satin and the down filling, which felt stiffer and stronger, heavier as well. But it fit her so well, and she looked really striking in it, in the mirror.

Very quickly, she was so excited, she put on her boots, took the instructions and her keys, dropped them in suit pockets which she zippered closed, took no gloves or headwear because that was built into the suit, according to Mike's note, but did don her headphones and favorite iPod, and off she was. As the air was brisk, she donned the hood, which not only kept her ears warm, but had the extra advantage of keeping her headphones from falling off.

A couple of hours later, she was in heaven! A long, fresh walk, pristine nature, not a soul in sight. She was feeling just a bit weary, and a rest would be nice. Looking up on the trail, she saw a cabin, and, wondering whether that would be a good spot, quickly reached it. The door was open.

It was a typical cabin for campers and hikers. Sparse, with a stove that obviously wasn't operating, and a few hammocks for the predominantly young crowd to overnight. Perfect! Just what she needed. The hammock would keep her beautiful new suit clean and dry, and her suit in turn would keep her warm even without the stove heat.

That is when the thought that the suit could turn into a sleeping bag struck her as clever. Mike had been astute indeed, she would have to really thank him. Now how to turn the suit into a sleeping bag? The easiest would have been to read the instructions, of course, but Maryanne, like many people who feel intelligent, thought she could do without. Besides, it was obvious. Zippers outside both legs would connect them, and she could see long pockets along the sides of her side her torso, where she could insert her arms inside the garment.

She locked the cabin door and clambered inside the hammock, which let her sink in and hugged her every curve, and promptly zippered her legs together, first in front, then in back. Strange, it didn't feel like a bag, with her two legs inside a single space, it only sort of tied her two legs fairly tightly together. She wondered what was then the purpose of this. Or maybe she just hadn't done it the way it was supposed to be. Never mind, she was too proud to unzip and read the instructions. After all, her legs were warm. All she had to do was tighten the hood around her face, put her arms inside the pockets, and she could doze off.

Tightening the hood was easy and straightforward. She pulled on the two laces, and felt the hood tighten around her face. But something was in the way. It felt like some sort of mouthpiece such as one uses for snorkeling. She remembered Mike's note that the hood could cover her full face. She understood! No need for instructions, this was a clever garment, but she was cleverer yet. She put the mouthpiece in place, bit down on it, and pulled the laces tight. Her whole face was now covered in tight, warm satin.

Obviously the mouthpiece was there so that she could breathe freely through it rather than risk suffocation. How clever! She tightened the laces more, to increase the kinky feel of satin on her skin, and laced them together firmly. The overall tightness of the satin on her whole body, plus the vibrator now had her quite excited, and she wondered whether she could hold off cumming until she came back. All she needed was to have her hands close to a certain part of her body...

So she slid her two arms down the deep side pockets that would give her hands access to her engorged clit. As the suit was brand new, the pockets weren't open it seemed. She felt that they were sort of tied closed, and found that there was indeed in each of them a string that prevented them from opening and accepting her arms. She pulled on the strings, and the obstruction receded. She also felt, as she couldn't see because of her full-face hood, something, that she was actually zipping her arms inside the suit-turned bag. Finally it was done, she had pulled the strings to the max, and her arms we now free to extend fully in the pockets, which, interestingly, weren't lined with satin, unlike the rest of her suit, but with a fabric which felt much stronger and stiffer. It was the pockets in fact that now rose, zippered up and closed all the way to her collar thanks to the pull on the strings, and her arms were now, unbeknownst to her, fully enclosed.

Maryanne was in heaven. Every inch of her body covered in tight satin, feeling warm inside her sleeping bag, resting in a hammock in a deserted cabin, with nothing on her mind except the wonderful feelings from the stimulation that came from the vibrator she had naughtily inserted in her cunt before donning the suit. Now all she needed was to get her hands to her clit and a wonderful orgasm would be no doubt waiting for her.

Deep inside the pockets, she moved her hands towards her moist love tunnel, only to find them foiled by the pockets they were inside. She couldn't move her hands! What kind of a sleeping bag was this, with her legs zipped to one another, and her hands and arms kept inside pockets? Well, if she couldn't get her hands where she wanted inside the bag, she would do it from the outside. Get her hands outside the pockets, unzip the suit, and play with herself. That is when she realized that her hands were no longer hers to control. She pulled, but her whole arms were now held inside them to above the shoulder. She was trapped!

Maryanne couldn't believe it. She pulled on her arms, but there was no way to pull them out of the pockets now that they rose all the way to her collar, where she had so thoughtlessly closed them. She tried separating her legs, but she had herself zippered them together. She tried to scream, but the hood she had tightened kept her lips sealed around the mouthpiece through which she breathed. Add the fact that the damned hood also kept her in the dark and she was totally powerless. She fought the suit-turned-prison, but the material proved too strong, and her arms and legs stayed as she had so foolishly arranged them. Try as she might, nothing moved, shifted, slipped, or ripped. She was held tightly. Only the hammock oscillated with her fury, like a boat in a storm, adding to her predicament the real risk that she might fall off onto the floor.

Maryanne needed to think this through. Crazy as this might sound, she was now a prisoner of this suit turned into some kind of a straightjacket. How could she get herself out? If at least she understood the design, she might find a way to free herself. How she regretted not having taken a few minutes to read the instructions, she would have avoided this mess. To think that, just a few minutes ago, she was in heaven, stimulated by the satin and the vibrator, looking for a place to pleasure herself. If only Mike had not told her of the possible conversion to sleeping bag...

Mike! Suddenly the penny dropped. Mike who had offered the snowsuit. Mike who knew she loved satin on her bare skin. Mike who knew she would like her face protected from the cold. Mike who knew she liked to snooze after a brisk walk. Mike who knew she wouldn't bother reading the instructions. Could Mike have engineered this? She shook with rage at the thought that she had let herself be trapped, and almost fell from the hammock, but failed to make any progress at freeing herself from the diabolical garment.

OK, now that her situation made sense, she must find a way to defeat Mike's plan whatever it was. She was simply not going to rot here in this locked cabin. First, if she was careful she could put her feet over the side of the hammock, and manage to get down on the ground. Then, even though it would not be easy, she could hop to the door, and even though her hands were inside the pockets, find a way to open it. Then she could exit the cabin, and get back on the trail, where someone was bound to find her, and that was her key to freedom.

Just as she was going to start on her path to freedom, the music stopped on her iPod, and she could hear Mike's voice. “Maryanne, darling, here is the second phase of my gift to you. By now I imagine that you are safely inside the sleeping bag, being too proud to read any instructions, and furious with yourself and me. If my calculations are correct, you stopped close to a trail-side cabin, and probably are resting in a hammock, thinking about how to get free and home. Considering that you have neither sight nor voice, or the use of hands or legs, this could be tricky, maybe even dangerous, and I don't want you to run any risk. So, pretending to act on your behalf, I hired a guide to follow you discreetly along the trail. I told him that you loved long spells of tight self-bondage, and instructed him to “help” you achieve that. As proof, he will have seen you all alone, and will find you totally immobilized, sightless and speechless, quite obviously by your own hand, so he will believe what I told him. I also told him to do whatever is necessary to, shall we say, “intensify your experience”, but that will be best left a surprise.”

“Now, you may wonder, why am I doing this? Well, Maryanne, to be frank, it is time you were taught a long, hard, tough lesson. How would you feel if I preferred to spend days alone rather than with you? That is how I feel. Unappreciated, made to feel unattractive, neglected. Except of course when comes money time, when I have all your attention as bills need paying. And you think I don't know that you are saving on the side while I pay joint bills? That you pleasure yourself while offering me only token sex? Maybe from now on, you won't think I am quite so dumb, so easy to fool. If there is a from now on, because frankly, you put yourself in quite a pickle. Goodbye, my sweet Maryanne. And good luck!” And with that, the iPod sound stopped, and there was only silence.

Maryanne was petrified. Mike, whom she had grown to seeing as pleasantly malleable, was obviously furious with her, and going for revenge. To be a prisoner like this was bad enough; but to know that it had been devised by someone who bore her so much ill will, was terrifying. She needed to get free more than ever, and not wait for the second phase that Mike had foretold. “Intensify the experience” had been his words, and she wasn't going to wait and see what that meant, her “experience” was already much too intense for her own liking. Again she tried to swing her feet over the rim of the hammock. Only to hear the door unlocked and opened. A couple of seconds later, she felt a strong hand push her feet back into the hammock.

“So, intent on escaping, are we? Well, I am here to avoid that now, and to make sure it can't happen later. Yes, I know, you like to fight your predicament, but, don't worry, with me you'll get all the tightness you crave. Shhhhhh, don't fight me, there is nothing you can do, tied like this inside your suit. Besides, it not like you are some kind of victim, you did this to yourself, I saw you.”

The tightness she craved??? This idiot had obviously accepted whatever line Mike had fed him, and thought she wanted to be tied up, rather than set free. She struggled desperately to communicate by whatever movement and sounds the diabolical garment let her make that she needed help, and nothing else.

“Your husband wasn't exaggerating when he said you would put up a very realistic show of trying to escape. He said this was your way of signaling that you wanted extra tightness and total helplessness, which you can't achieve on your own. Don't worry, I will give you what you want. The more you struggle, the tighter I will make your bonds. Let start with your head. I have this leather hood to fit on top of yours...;”

Maryanne couldn't believe what she heard. This idiot was going to go ahead with Mike's plan. Couldn't he differentiate between a desperate woman tied up against her will and some kind of kink-crazy woman? Suddenly she felt something slipped onto her head, and tightened around her suit hood. She panicked as the air supply for her breathing tube was interrupted. Fortunately that lasted only seconds, as the man adjusted the hood properly to pass the breathing tube through the mouth-hole. Then he turned Maryanne around on her belly, so he could more easily tighten the laces at the back of the hood.

Maryanne was desperately trying to both resist and shout that she was a prisoner but not a willing one, that she wanted release not more bonds. But the strong hands were having none of it, and she felt the vice-like grip of the leather hood gradually replace the relative softness of the fabric one, as the man tightened the laces all the way down, taking good care to eliminate any slack. Once he was done, and the laces had been knotted together tightly, he proceeded with extra straps that the hood sported. One around her head at eye level, one at mouth level, one vertical one from under her chin to over the top of her head, which totally sealed her lips and jaws around the mouthpiece that gagged her so effectively. And then one around her neck, in effect a tall, stiff collar that prevented almost any head movement.

“Good! It is all exactly as I was told it would be! Frankly, when your husband told me what he wanted me to do, I thought he was nuts. Except he offered good money for an afternoon's work, I would have told him no way. But fact is, you tied yourself up, and you seem to enjoy fighting me and your bonds. Considering how much he paid me, I think you deserve the ride of your life. I had brought what we agreed on, but I am going to get more restraints. For one thousand dollars, I can go the extra mile. You and I are about to write a new chapter in the book of total helplessness. But I can't leave you like this while I get my stuff. Let me get you ready for some quality time alone. You see, originally, I was just going to secure you in the hammock. The suit already contains and restrains your hands and feet. Tying you up in the hammock would leave you relatively comfortable, safely and securely restrained. But that is not even close to what you will enjoy now. That's a promise. And that way, the next time you want to get tied up, you can remember my phone number. At that price, I'd like that. This is why I am going to make sure you reach new heights of tightness and immobility. You see, your husband, when I told him I knew my knots but had never tied people up, just told me to look at bondage sites on the Web. Boy, that gave me some ideas about what to do with, or for, I should say, a hard-core player like you! Ever heard of a ball-tie? I hadn't, but, now that I have, it will be fine to hold you until I feel like coming back with more equipment. But first, let's tighten the suit!”

The man released flaps on the suit legs, one on the front and one on the back of each leg, which uncovered rows of small d-rings. Though those he threaded two long, strong laces, one connecting the front of her two legs together, and one for the back. Thus the ropes overlaid the zippers that had kept her legs together and prevented her escape. But, as the man pulled the laces tight, carefully eliminating any slack from the top of the thighs all the way to her ankles, Maryanne realized how “easy” this first bond had been. Whereas she had some play and comfort in her zippered legs, now she had none. With the same energetic thoroughness with which he had tightened her hood, he now laced her legs so tightly to each other that they were as one.

Turning his attention to the top part of her body, he again released two flaps on the sides of her torso, and again laced a cord tightly through two rows of rings. Maryanne felt the pockets holding her arms tightening like vices around them until, again, she had no movement left in her elbows, wrists and fingers. Another flap down the back of the suit let him lace the main body of the suit tightly around her torso, and glue her arms to her body. The damned suit now held her in collar-to-toe vice-like tightness, like a full-body straightjacket!

With that, the man took some rope, and passed it around the back of Maryanne's neck, through a ring on the back of her leather collar. Then he brought up her knees and passed the rope under them, then tightened the rope until her knees were right under her chin, passing it around a ring on the front of her collar. Once, then two, then three loops, tightened further by cinches, then he knotted the ropes carefully. Then, as Maryanne was trying to adjust to this brutal position and find some slack to relax her strained back, she felt him tie her ankles tightly together, as well as the soles of her booted feet, until he had a strong anchoring point. He brought the rope up her back to the one that passed behind her neck, and pulled it tight, which brought her feet under her ass cheeks, back as far as her bound knees would let them. In effect the two ropes were pulling against each other. The neck rope pulling her knees forward, and the back rope pulling her ankles back. He tightened the rope until she was totally helpless and immobilized in a tight ball, and he made sure the knots would not slip or loosen up.

Maryanne was desperate. There was nothing she could do, the ropes were very tight and well tied. The position was intense, to say the least. She was doubled up, and that cramped her breathing, already restricted by the two hoods and breathing tube. But the man wasn't done. The tight ball that was now Maryanne was almost buried in the hammock that was designed for lying on it, rather than sinking into it. The man simply connected the hammock sides to each other right over Maryanne's ball shape, effectively roping her into the hammock. Then he went to the wall, where the hammock was connected to the wall by a pulley. A few turns on the handle connected to the pulley and the hammock rose to a horizontal profile, considerably tightening its grip around the ball that was once free and proud Maryanne. She squealed with the increased compression, and started to cry. Would this never end?

Finally done, he looked at his work and told her: “I'm done for now. There is no way I can see you can get out of this, or harm yourself. I must say, your husband really made a point that you should be truly helpless, because, if you escape, I lose all my fee, and any loosening at all cost me half. So you can imagine that I am not taking any chances, plus the fact that I am hoping for repeat business. And, to be honest, when Mike approached me, I started thinking that you were both sick and crazy. But now that I know that some people truly enjoy being forcefully bound and made helpless, I must say that I quite like the experience, and defeating your efforts to resist me, even though I know deep down this is what you want, only makes it more fun!”

“Can't think of much more I can do with just rope in hand, but never fear, I am coming back with more, though I am not saying when. Considering your tastes, and the fight you put up to push me to tie you tighter, you should be in heaven right now, so I'll leave you to it. I mean, to normal folks, being tied up like this would be terrifying and hugely uncomfortable, but hey!, it takes all kinds. You like the danger and the vulnerability, so that is what you are getting, in spades! So I'm not judging you, merely serving you, in the hope that next time you remember who made it so tight and helpless for you. Except that I can't because of your restraints, consider yourself kissed good-bye. Seeya!”

And with that, Maryanne, who was desperately grunting to no effect whatsoever, heard steps, the door closing, the key turning, and then... nothing! She couldn't believe it. Barely 20 minutes ago she had been freely walking a mountain trail in her new gear, and now he was totally helpless, tied with tremendous discomfort and no hope of escape or release, only of more madness and bonds to come at the hands of an idiot who found tying her up “fun”, and did it with the thoroughness that his profession as a mountain guide demanded. How could this happen? How could she have done this to herself? How could she have been blind to Mike's unhappiness and frustration? The way the man had left her, Maryanne feared she might have all the time to herself she needed to think this through without being interrupted....

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07.03.13