Thrill Seeking

Intro:
To my readers: my apologias for not posting more stories recently, but I have been working hard on two female domination and pony books entitled, Madam in Attendance & Chloe & Me, each to be published by the end of December 2011 by Pink Flamingo publications electronically and in paperback. So I hope this new free story of female woe and sexuality tickles your fancy. Enjoy S. M. Ackerman. (2011)

Thrill Seeking.

I had done it all, walked naked through the park, bound and gagged with a hobble as just one amongst many other adventures. Frankly, no matter how inventive, no matter how sexually frustrating my creations, they never quite seemed to me to represent the essence of true ‘thrill seeking,’ and so it was that I devised a simple plan.

I had been into self-bondage humiliation and risk taking with my body for years, now that I was approaching my twenty-first birthday, I decided to treat myself to what I hoped would be the ultimate thrill. But first I needed to acquire the equipment and the license I would need if I was to set out on this my daring, but daft adventure.

Two days prior to my birthday the letter I had been waiting for had arrived, I ripped it open and yes it contained a small business card sized slab of plastic, embossed with my name. I read it over five times, always with a grin that could light up a city. I was qualified and licensed, though for how long if I was caught, I could not say.

The hill was steep and the oblong package I had dragged up to the top was heavy, but the effort would be worth it in the end I hoped.

Once assembled, I started the process of preparing myself. First I stripped naked, which in its self felt amazing! Standing as I was on a hill top overlooking a cityscape, slowly taking my clothes off.

Then from a cloth bag I removed a metal device; it looked like three arms with large protrusions on the inside, it was my self designed chastity-belt, and once locked there was to be no escape for me, as the only key to it was taped under the rear bumper of my car, which was parked in the car park at the bottom of the hill.

The protrusions were designed to fit my body shape perfectly, I had developed the practice of putting the device opened out on the floor or on a bench. Then lowering myself down onto the solid rubber spikes, until with a pop and a heart felt groan they entered into me. A few wiggles followed as the monsters stretched and penetrated my holes, until finally the belt arms were pulled around my hips and latched to each other. Then came the padlock, a heavy duty model, with a hardened steel fully concealed lock bar, the best of the bunch as a security locks go, guaranteed to defy even the fire brigades best efforts for quite a while, or as the add had offered, ‘my money back if it failed.’

I did not need my feet much for what I intended to do, so they got the ankle hobble, and once it was locked in place with its twelve inches of chain, my ability to walk was much restricted. I minced over to the device I had assembled, tilted it up so that I could get beneath it and began the laborious, but essential, strapping in of my body. The sack that normally acts as a support was not fitted this time, it being replaced with a series of bands of nylon. I wriggled and squeezed myself into the tight embrace of webbing, then with all safety checks completed satisfactorily I stood up. My arms reached out to the plastic coated bar hanging before me, I shuffled forward, looked down, took a last deep breath and stepped one step forward.

Below me the ground moved and I felt like I was falling, but above me the huge sheet of nylon filled and I soar upwards, naked as the day I was born and heading out towards the city over which I intend to fly.

The ground fell away as I caught a thermal and I felt it lift my hang-glider up into the cold morning air. Cities are warmer than open country and as I began my decent towards the buildings, I felt the heat rising and had to work harder to descend lower. The pure delight of the situation hit home, which was the time that my chastity belt, with its battery pack, decided to interrupt my concentration by stimulating my over heated sex intolerably.

Piloting a hang-glider, whilst exploding in orgasm is quite a feat, one which I failed to do miserably, due to my relative inexperience, the park floated beneath me, unseen for a while.

I woke to find myself still locked in my chastity-belt, still naked, but covered by a crisp white bed sheet, with a nurse hovering near to me and looking down at me.

“We could not remove your belt or its toys nor could we switch them off unfortunately, as you did not have the key on you, therefore the doctors decided that you would have to remain locked in it. The doctor also said to tell you that the police were waiting to interview you, but that he had told them that you were not well enough yet to talk to them, yet.”

I lay there feeling helpless and humiliated, with my adventure turned into a perfect disaster by the crash and my poor body battered and bruised. Facing the potential of being locked up by the police for gross indecency or something similar, and of being revealed to all and sundry as a sexual pervert of some strange sort, once the press discover my situation.

My plan had worked perfectly to a point. I had experienced naked flight, I had crashed rather than landed in the most public park I could find, and had been rescued and taken to hospital. Next I would have to face the humiliation of being questioned, arrested and perhaps locked up for a time.

What a birthday present for a submissive slut into self deprivation and humiliation. Who knows perhaps I would be allowed to keep my hard earned bit of plastic…
The End

10.12.11