Stumped

This particular adventure dates back a few years to when I was in college and house-sitting one summer. The house itself was outrageous – probably over 9,000 square feet and on a dozen wooded acres abutting a land conservancy so it was quite secluded. I actually was dog-sitting more than house-sitting. Roscoe was a lovable chocolate lab who needed to be looked after while his owners were away for a couple of months on a world tour – but that’s another story.

Early in my stay I decided to combine three of my favorite activities – nude, outdoor self-bondage. The house was on a slope down to a river valley and about a mile down the slope was a nearly deserted gravel road with a couple of houses at each end and nothing but woods and a cell tower for about a mile. The goal was to park and lock my car hidden behind the tower and make the trek back up the slope while nude and bound with my release outside of the locked house with no way back in until I had successfully gotten at least one of my bound hands free.

The first step in preparing this was to create my primary release mechanism. This was a strip of wood with about a six inch piece of PVC pipe epoxied to it, and at its other end a handcuff key epoxied such that the ‘bow’ (the part you grasp) was just inside the pipe, while the ‘blade’ (the action part) was sticking out in such a way that I would be easily able to engage it into the lock of the right cuff of my pair of hinged handcuffs. I reinforced the junction of the pipe to the wood with a screw from the back of the wood into the epoxy holding the pipe to the wood. I then screwed this contraption onto the siding of the house down by its walkout at about chest height. I would need to get at least one of the cuffs off in order to try to unwrap my hands which would be bound in bondage tape and duct tape into otherwise useless stumps.

I had scouted out this area carefully over several days and found virtually no traffic on late weekday mornings and early afternoons except for the occasional delivery truck on the gravel road. I never saw another human being in the woods and the house was sufficiently secluded that one could prance around naked around it (which I often did) without any chance of being seen as long as it wasn’t the day for the landscapers or garbage collection. With a favorable weather forecast (mid-70s and partly-sunny) for the next day I assembled what I would need to pack and wear to my starting point.

In a lockable hard-sided suitcase I put my leather hood, spider gag, collection of locks and three rolls each of carefully measured black bondage tape and black duct tape. For each of the rolls I had created a tab at the end so I would easily be able to start winding them around my hands and wrists.

To wear would be some thin chain configure in a ‘T’ such that one length would wrap around my waist while the other end would run down from the small of my back, between my butt cheeks, across my holes, and lock to the other two ends in front. This would secure the intruders which included a 1-1/2” butt plug and a special vibrator of my own design. The phallic shaft housed two C-size batteries and would be impaled in my pussy, while the other end contained a heavy-duty 3-volt vibrator that would nestle over my clit. There was a groove on the exterior surface that would keep the chain from sliding off it. It also had some special programming that would allow for a myriad of different stimulations with the option of having it operate randomly (both pattern and intensity) as well as a variable time delay between when turned on and it started to run. This needed to be programmed by linking it to my computer and once set, could not be changed other than there being a basic on-off switch on the outer surface that would start the program running or shut the device off entirely. Once bound I’d be unable to operate the switch.

There were my six inch black patent leather pumps and a thin chain that would wrap around by ankle and under the heel to prevent me from removing them and an assortment of locks to secure all the chains in place.

Finally, there was a nipple chain called a ‘Titilizer’ which had a noose on each end which secured to the nipple. To each of these I put the various keys to the locks, cuffs and a house key. I also decided to attach a six-ounce weight to each one just to add a little pain to my adventure.

I went around the house and made sure that every door and window was locked and prepared Roscoe’s dishes of food and water for the morning. That night I took a long, warm bath and shaved off all my hair from the neck down including my now bald pussy. I set the alarm for 7:00 am and dozed off into a sound sleep.

Tuesday

Usually I hit ‘Snooze’ a few times once the alarm goes off but today I practically leapt out of bed in anticipation of what was to come. I had a light breakfast of coffee, juice and toast and put out Roscoe’s dishes before returning to my room. I’m not big into enemas, but decided that this was as good a time for one (or two) as any and cleared my bowels for today’s adventure and took a quick shower. It was time to get dressed.

The suitcase had a combination lock that could be set to your desired code. I covered the numbers with some duct tape, spun the wheels around in a random fashion while in program mode, then shut it without turning the wheels which left me with access to its contents – for now.

I first donned the belly chain, temporarily fitting the hasp of a lock to hold it together in front of me. I had measured this out very carefully such that both lengths would be snug and unyielding, while not being too uncomfortable. I then lubed up the butt plug and, with some effort and some grunts and squats got it to pop inside my asshole. My pussy was dripping wet by now so I didn’t need any lubrication to pass the phallic end of the vibrator inside of me, but with its girth determined by the size of the batteries I could sure tell that it was there. I nestled the business end against my clit then brought the chain over the plug and along the groove of the vibrator up to the lock holding the other ends of the chain together in front. I had to pull kind of hard in order to get the remaining free end over the hasp (had measured it without the protruding plug and vibrator) then closed the lock with a satisfying ‘click’

I then put on my pumps and secured them with the chain. I first encircled my ankle starting with one end at the back and held this together with the hasp of a lock, then wrapped the free end under the shoe just in front of the heel and back up to the lock. “Click” once again. That shoe wasn’t going anywhere without the key (or at least not easily). I repeated the process with the other foot.

Then came the nipple chain. I tighten each noose around a nipple so that they were secure, but not entirely strangling them either. I had done this enough so that I knew what was too loose, too tight and ‘just right’. I gently lowered the weights after securing each nipple so that there wouldn’t be a sudden painful tug. That said, boy did I know that gravity was going to torture these after a while, particularly when then started to swing during my trek home.

I donned a pair of sweat-shorts and a baggy tee-shirt (careful not to tug on the weights), grabbed by car key and driver’s license (even though a short trip didn’t want to get stopped by a cop without having it) and the suitcase. I headed out to the garage, the high heels clicking with each step on the tile floors and locked the door to the house behind me. I stashed the suitcase in the trunk then carefully got into the driver’s seat and felt the magnitude of the intruders below. Using the wireless opener I backed the car out of the garage and was reminded of how hard it is to operate the pedals with such high heels. Once out, I closed the doors and headed out the driveway onto the streets. Looking in the car windows no one would suspect that there was a partially bound woman driving in high heels and the bondage adventure upon which she was embarking.

I reached the gravel road and decided to drive its full length and go around the block (actually a few miles) to make sure there was no unexpected activity on the road – there was not. Next time around I pulled up to a stop at the cell tower and slowly maneuvered my car around back of it so that it couldn’t be seen from the road. Getting out of the car (the weights and intruders reminding me of their presence) I locked the door, retrieved the case and threw my keys in the trunk before closing the lid. Now, I was committed to at least walk back to the house even though I could still unlock the pumps and walk home barefoot.

Looking both ways (can’t be too careful) I crossed the gravel road and made my way through the tall grasses and brush until I got to a dense thicket, behind which I planned to complete my bondage. I took off my shorts and top and sat carefully on the ground (oh, the intruders!) I opened the case, pulling out the bondage materials and stuffed my clothes inside. Closing the lid I spun the wheels of the lock meaning that either I would have to walk back to the house naked, or spend hours trying all of the possible combinations.

Next I put on my spider gag with the ring inside my teeth, tightening it behind my neck. I had used this many times and I had never been able to get it entirely out of my mouth without use of my hands, and when the hood was on, the gag wouldn’t budge at all. Now I brought the hood to my head, pulled my blonde ponytail through a slit in the top, and pulled it over my head, tightening then tying the laces in back. All that could be seen of my head were my two eyes and gaping mouth. There were two small breathing holes as well, but these were really superfluous with my mouth held open. I reached behind my neck and buckled the hood’s neck strap (not too loose…) and slipped a lock into the lockable prong. I could still get out of this but at least felt more anonymous (hard to identify if someone came along with a cellphone camera) and confined. Also, this was the only lock for which I did not have a key on my nipple chain – the keys for this were on my dresser in my bedroom.

Now, for the piece-de-resistance. I grabbed a roll of the bondage tape and put the end into the palm of my left hand. Making a fist (thumb inside) I started wrapping around, trapping my fingers, then made several passes from my wrist then over the end then back again. Finally I wrapped around over this several times from the end to a couple of inches above my wrist until I was out of tape. I tested moving my fingers and they weren’t going anywhere. I repeated the process with a spool of the duct tape being careful to have its end running from the palm side of my fist up my forearm a few inches. I lowered one side of the hinged handcuff over my left wrist (making sure that the keyhole was facing outwards) and closed the bracelet. I had brought a paperclip so I engaged the safety on this cuff knowing I wouldn’t be able to do it for the right one. I made sure that the right bracelet was closed so it wouldn’t snag on something accidently.

At this point I turned on the vibrator knowing that it would be a half-hour until it started to torment me in some kind of random way. I already was anticipating several big orgasms over the next couple of hours.

I took a spool of bondage tape over the stump that once was my left hand and grabbed the end of the tape into the palm of my right hand made a fist, then started wrapping. You may wonder how I could control the tension and direction of the tape without out use of my left hand. Effectively it was now a spool and by holding the roll of tape against a thigh or other body part I could control the tension and my maneuvering my right arm around, could control the direction (I had done this before under different circumstances so I knew it would work, only I had never used both bondage tape and duct tape). Pinching a roll of duct tape between my stumps, I was able to maneuver the roll onto my left hand (stump or spool) and because I had left a tag of tape free, I was able to stick this to my right hand to start the wrapping process, once again ending with the tape running up my forearm. What about the remaining spools of tape? They were there in case one of the other spools had a problem with the tab and I couldn’t get it started. Now they were just redundant and things to be retrieved later after I was free

I then used my stumps to help me rise to a standing position and was about to go to the point of no return. I had planned to lock my right wrist so that my arms were sticking straight out in front of me but, at the last minute though it would be more comfortable to cross my arms in front of me with my arms forming something of a cradle and (what was left of) my hands pointing in opposite directions. I pushed the bracelet through the cuff with my right stump so that the cuff was now open, brought my hands in front of me near my chest, both fists facing me, then lowered the cuff onto my right wrist. Pinching the bracelet with my stomach and pushing the body of the cuff against a nearby tree I closed the cuff one click at a time until my right hand was truly trapped, and so was I!

There was no way I was going to be able to remove the tape (by rubbing one stump against the tape’s end and then unwrapping the whole construct) until the cuffs were off. The only way to get the cuffs off was my release mechanism back on the outside of the house about a mile away.

The Trek

I decided I shouldn’t dally and should make by way up the moderately steep slope so I could get as far as I could before the vibrator kicked in. I really had lost all sense of the passage of time at this point but figured it wouldn’t be long before things started to stir down below.

Starting up the wooded slope I began to question the wisdom of wearing my high-heeled pumps. The soles were slippery and gave almost no purchase if I tried to walk with my feet pointing straight ahead. With some trial and error I adopted a wide, duck-like posture so that I dug into the ground with inner edges of the soles with the heels frequently sinking into the rich loam. This also required me to bend somewhat forward to keep my balance and insure that if I fell, I would fall up the hill. What I sight I would have been to someone looking up the slope – an apparently naked, hooded, bow-legged woman waddling up the hill. Fortunately, I also found that my arms could indeed serve as a cradle and support the nipple weights so that they weren’t dangling most of the time. Most of the time until the vibrator kicked in, that is.

Bam! The damn vibrator engaged at full continuous force making my legs and body buckle forward into the ground. I was able to absorb most of the impact with a shoulder and, in reality, because of the slope and being bent I fell only a couple of feet. More fortunately I somehow was able to protect the cuff on my right wrist so that it didn’t tighten. Nonetheless, there I was writhing with my ass up in the air until a massive orgasm overcame me right then and there. Of course, the vibrator didn’t know that and kept on churning bringing me back into heat once again but, alas, it suddenly switched into another mode which was much less intense although it was doing some kind of ramp in terms of frequency of the stimulation.

I regained my composure and was able to struggle to my feet, nipples being unmercifully tugged by the dangling weights, and resume my journey but my trek up the hill seemed to go on forever and was punctuated by a few more orgasms. The slope eventually became much more shallow and I was able to walk nearly upright and with a near normal stride (normal for high heels on a forest floor). I was more prepared for the episodes where the vibrator went to full on so no more falls and I was even able to take a rest a couple of times by sitting on a fallen log (if ‘rest’ meant sitting on two plugs in your nether region). That said I was a sweaty mess with my chest covered in drool despite a parched mouth

Eventually I saw a clearing up ahead which was the back yard of my (well, really their) house. My pace quickened with release nearly within my grasp (although I really couldn’t grasp anything). Ironic that the keys to my release were dangling uselessly from my nipples inches away from the stumps that were my hands.

Best laid plans…

I made my way to the wall with the release key and prepared to maneuver myself into position. I inspected the key – “Perfect height,” I thought. I went to bring the lock of the left cuff to the key and noticed two problems: 1) The pipe only stuck out several inches. With my arms folded this way, my right arm and forearm were in the way and I couldn’t get the cuff close enough to the key. 2) Also, the key way pointing at 3 o’clock and the lock was pointing at 9 0’clock. I had positioned the key for the right cuff not the left! I would have to be standing on my head in order for the key to engage the left cuff!

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck,” I said (actually it came out “Ugh, Ugh, Ugh.” Because of the gag).

I leaned back in to see if somehow I could get the square peg in the round hole. Just then, Mr. Vibrator decided to play a little prank on me again and kicked in on full. I lurched forward, my arms striking the pipe and breaking it off the wood!

This was the biggest orgasm of all because now I knew that I was truly trapped. If I couldn’t figure a way out of this my options were very limited: 1) find some way to pry or scrape the tape off one of my hands to free its fingers, 2) wait until the owners got back in about six weeks and probably die of hunger and dehydration in the meantime, or 3) make my way to the nearest neighbors and introduce myself in a very embarrassing way.

I decided that number one was definitely worth pursuing so went over to where there was some brick on the façade to try and abrade the tape off my left stump. After several minutes of this it became clear that nothing useful was happening. Had I not been gagged there was a good chance that I could have torn the tape with my teeth, but then, preventing this was one of the purposes of the gag in the first place. Perhaps if I looked around the back and front yards I could find some kind of hook with which to get under the tape and pull it off!

So off I went, this nearly nude, hooded figure examining every structure she encountered as a possible means of release - retaining wall, fence and gate around the pool, trees surrounding the yard, fenced and gated vegetable garden – nothing that would aid in my release. Nor did the locked garage, driveway or landscaping in the front of the house. I had checked that all the doors and windows were locked before I began the journey, but still tried what I could with my cuffed stumps but could find no way in the house.

At this point I was in tears and nearly resigned to hike to the nearest neighbor and hope that at most I’d die of embarrassment but that they wouldn’t rape me, report me to the police or sell me to the white sex slave trade. The vibrator was still intermittently churning although it wasn’t not as intense as at first, so I figured the batteries must be beginning to wear down. Its vibrations were now something more of an annoyance than a turn-on as I remained mentally fixated on my plight and, for once, mind seemed to be trumping the ways of the flesh (or batteries). At this point, I decided to go back to the walkout where I had broken my release mechanism to see if there was any way to salvage it.

I looked down at the forlorned piece of PVC with its key. If only I had some way to grip and maneuver it into the keyhole of my left cuff (If only a genie would appear and grant me three wishes). I knew that using my hands to do this was out of the question – but what about my feet? I had once read about a self-bondage scenario that went awry where the heroine used the heel of one of her pumps to push the shoe off her other foot – perhaps I could do the same! If so, I may be able to grasp the pipe with my toes and get it close enough to by cuff where I could engage it and rotate my wrists around the key (first one way to release the safety, then the other way to release the ratchet.

With some effort I did manage to pry off my right shoe. If this didn’t work out I’d wind up hobbling over to the nearest neighbor on one my left shoe while dragging the right one by my ankle, but it wouldn’t materially add to my embarrassment or vulnerability at this point. I then scooted around on my butt (Oh, the intruders!) so I could get my foot to the pipe. I was able to maneuver it between my feet after several attempts grasp it with my right foot!. Bringing my foot toward my chest (all those flexibility exercises were now paying off) I extended my arms until the key and the front of the bracelet were touching. Needless to say that it took several attempts (including dropping the pipe a number of times, before I got the key in the hole at which point I released my foot-grasp on the side of the pipe, and now grabbed it by its end. Rotating my arms first one way, then the other I felt first the click of the safety release, then the ratchet loosen and then open!

Tears, this time of joy, streamed down my face. I used my left stump to close the open ratchet so it again wouldn’t snag on anything. Now it was time to get down to work. Ignoring the pitiful vibrations coming from my now sore cunt I got to work on removing the tape. My plan was to rub the end my right stump against the tape end on my left forearm and start working first the duct tape, then the bondage tape off my left hand. Although this took a considerable amount of time and I had a large, loopy mess of tape coiled around my right hand and forearm, this worked exactly as I had planned it and soon I had my left hand and fingers free at last!. I used them to peel the mess of tape off my right stump, then to use the key to release the cuff from my right wrist. Getting the tape off the right was uneventful – it appears my fortunes had changed!

At this point I shed all the bondage gear that I could – nipple chain and weights, belt, shoes, vibrator and butt plug. I was now fully naked except for my hood and my encased spider gag. My first thought was to unlock the house and get the key for my hood to remove it and the gag, but I caught sight of the swimming pool out of the corner of my eye and its invitingly warm waters beckoned to me. I had been unable to open the latches to the gates when in ‘stump mode’, but now I had free access. I thought I would spice this up a bit by taking my cuffs with me but leaving the keys on the walkout with the rest of my bondage gear. I grabbed the cuffs, opened the self-closing gate and climbed the stairs to the pool deck, then walked around to the descending stairs at the far end of the roman-shaped pool. I slowly stepped down into the heavenly warm water. The pool itself was relatively shallow – a few feet deep at both ends and just shy of six in the middle. I bent my knees until the water just covered my shoulders then waded deeper toward the center, standing taller as I went. At the middle I had to hop on tip-toes to keep my head above water and caught a mouthful of pool water instantly reminding me I couldn’t close by mouth with the spider gag in place. Continuing across the pool I got to the semicircular bench at the far end and sat down. It felt so good to sit without the intruders inside. I decided now would be a good time to put on the cuffs and make my challenge to get across and out of the pool, back the length of the deck and retrieve my keys to unlock myself (not only were there the keys on the nipple chain but also the pipe-embedded key). Making sure the key holes were facing toward my hands I first closed the hinged cuff on my left wrist, and before I could think too much about if, moved my hands behind me and closed the bracelet on my right wrist. A few tugs confirmed that I was once again bound by my own hand.

I leaned back against the pool edge and lazily kicked by legs, soaking in the sun when it peeked out from behind the clouds. I could only feel the light breeze on my upper chest as the hood still encased my head and neck. This felt so good, but as the minutes ticked by, the amount of cloud cover was visibly increasing and I started to feel chilled. I decided it was time to make my way to the steps at the far end of the pool, hopped off the bench and started wading toward the center. It was more difficult to get moving without use of my hands as flippers but eventually I got some momentum going. Just as I got to the center of the pool, I somehow lost my footing and my legs shot out in front of me and my ass dropped like a stone (followed by my torso and head). I managed not to drown by closing my throat and kicking my way back up to the surface, coughing and sputtering while hopping to get to shallower water. The remainder of the trek to the steps was uneventful, but as I climbed to the deck I became aware that the breeze was stronger than I had realized and I started to turn into a mass of goose bumps. I scurried across the deck and down the stairs that led down to the walkout where I had left all my toys and keys. At this point the gate was taller than me and thoughts of a prison cell crossed my mind, only to be erases by another gust of wind which brought me quickly to my senses. I turned and raised my arms in a sort of strapedo-position to release the latch, only to find that when I was close enough to the gate, my hands were not even close to reaching high enough and when I climbed so that my arms were at the right height, my hands were too far from the gate.

“Not good,” I thought. Actually, what I really thought was “No fucking way! Just what I get for doing an impromptu self-bondage exercise with these hinged cuffs.” Realizing there was another, lower gate at the other end of the deck I wasted no time in heading there, only to discover that its latch was also too high, but only by about six inches or so.

“Think, think, think,” I said (coming out as “ing, ing, ing). I must have been thinking too hard as I noticed that I was starting to get a headache. I looked around for something to climb on but all I could find were a number of pieces of patio furniture. They would have to do. I dragged a chaise lounge over and tried to figure out how to get it close enough for me to stand on it while releasing the latch considering the the gate opened inward toward me. I was working hard now and even though I still felt cold I was working up a sweat and my headache was getting worse – felt like pressure all over and for some reason my mouth was getting sore. Anyhow, finally got it open, made my way out and dashed around the back yard to the walkout where I retrieved the cuff keys and, despite my trembling hands, rapidly released the cuffs and hugged myself to try to keep warm.

“Enough of this,“ I thought. “ Time to get inside where it’s warm, I can get this hood and gag off and take a couple of Tylenol.”

I grabbed the nipple chain and headed for the garden by the garage where there was a door which would accept the house key that was on the chain. When I got there I rifled through the keys on the two ends over and over again but there was no fucking house key! “It must have gotten snagged on a branch when I was making my way through the woods,” I thought. “Hell, it could be anywhere.” I knew there were no extra keys hidden anywhere near the house – and the only one anywhere was duct taped to the bottom of the mailbox at the end of the long driveway. Sure the place was isolated, but would I really go out onto the street during the day stark naked and hooded? Speaking of which, my pressure headache was only getting worse. Now with the use of my hands I tried to see if I could loosen the hood. There was no way to get to the laces, so I thought about trying to make some space between the hood and my mouth and eyes by stretching their respective holes. To my horror I could plainly feel that my mouth and area around my eyes were bulging out of the hood! I couldn’t even get a fingernail between my skin and the leather.

“What is going on?” I wondered. “Either my head is swelling or the hood is shrinking,” I deduced. It was then I remembered that leather shrinks after getting wet and I had taken a dunk during my pool adventure. “My God, If I didn’t get this off (and fast) who knows what would happen,” I reasoned. Also, I noticed that the collar of the hood was beginning to feel a little tight. It might be possible that I could be strangled if I didn’t get this off.

“To Hell with modesty” I thought and raced down the driveway to the street. I slowed as I approached, scouting for any traffic or passersby and, fortunately, found none. Once there I hid behind the brick pillars that flanked the drive and checked over the next several minutes that the coast was really clear as my hearing was still impaired by the hood. Chilled and with worsening head pain I decided to make a dash for it. Clawing with my nails I felt the tape’s edge and pried it loose along with my prize, the key. Without wasting a second I this time dashed up the long drive and to the garage, where, after several shaky attempts, I managed to get the key in the lock and the door open. Into the house I practically leapt and bounded up the stairs to my room where I had left the key to my hood. I did chance to see myself in the mirror and besides a number of scrapes on my body and limbs, what caught my attention was the grotesque bulging of my face through the three hood openings. Unlocking the collar I was able to untie and loosen the laces and, with some difficulty due to its tightness, remove the hood. The gag followed and for the first time in I don’t know how many hours I finally was bondage-free.

I considered going down to the walkout and remove any remaining evidence of my adventure but decided that cleanup could wait and that a hot bubble bath along with a glass of wine and couple of orgasms would take priority. While luxuriating I took time to reflect on today’s activity and felt proud that I had enough ingenuity to escape what had befallen me, even though there were times when it seemed that I was really stumped.

10.12.11