Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

Walking Into Torment

by Lady Katherine

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© Copyright 2009 - Lady Katherine - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; public; catsuit; toys; remote; cons; X

I lay there face down on the floor, contemplating my situation whenever a clear thought could work it's way through the distractions.  There's a risk with waiting too long between sessions when one is a self bondage addict...

Hours earlier I had been shopping in the mall again.  I rarely purchase anything on these trips, just wander the stores.  I'd done almost the same thing a week before, but as any addict knows, you have to push things a little further the next time.  Preparations at home had included me getting into my PVC bodysuit again.  The fit is so tight that it leaves marks on my upper arms and thighs, where the cuffs are, that don't fade for hours.  Starting the zipper at the back of my neck has gotten easier with practice, and using a shoe string to pull it down my back and up between my legs is a practiced struggle.  In the front at bellybutton height is the D-ring where a lock will secure the zipper later on.  The key goes into the metal toolbox with another key.  To hide my rather strange garment from the public, a heavy wool skirt and thick sweater over a t-shirt.  I can hide the PVC from view, but I can't hide the sounds it makes..

...The layer of cardboard had become damp under my chin, there's no way to stop drooling when a ballgag is strapped between your teeth.  The uneven concrete was cool even through the old boxes that I had left for myself to lay on.  Two latex catsuits do nothing to keep you warm, even if the clingy rubber does make you sweat.  A stray thought passes, a quick romp out into fresh snow to make a snow angel on a dare....

The week before I had parked at the far end of the mall, walked to the main entrances where the lockers are, rented one and left my remote turned on in it along with my car keys.  Then a walk back to the rear entrance bathrooms, an insertion of the remote egg, and a quick locking of the bodysuit.  It's a nice walk back to the locker, the little plastic egg shifting inside.  I'm sure I must walk funny but no one stares.  The shock when I'm close enough to the remote for it to turn on the vibe always stops me cold.  I know people see me suddenly stop, but nobody has any idea why.  I love the thrill from the hidden stimulation, and the rush from knowing I'm stuck with it until I can get home.  The locker is close by, but the remote is locked inside a canvas money bag.  There's no shutting it off until I get back home, and even then I'll be waiting.

...Keep wiggling my fingers, afraid that with them pulled up between my shoulders I'll loose feeling.  I can't let that happen, the latex gloves of the outer catsuit will make getting the locks open hard enough.  I haven't made any progress towards my first chance at freedom.  The combination lock on the post in the middle of the room, locked to an eyebolt, a rope loop tied up high above me, looped through another eyebolt in the beams above one set of keys dangling from it.  I know the combination well, I've had this lock since junior high school.  2-28-10.  It is just a matter of getting to it, turning the dials little by little, backing away to see them, and keep at it until it opens.  But time is running out and I'm tied too tightly to crawl effectively.....

Last week had been over too quickly.  This time I park in the back, walk to the front, rent the locker and turn the remote on just before locking the bag and leaving it and the car key as before.  Instead of walking all the way back to the rear entrance though, I went to the nearby bathrooms, put in the new batteries and inserted the egg, then locked it in place.  Inside my purse is a ring that I have sewn in.  A little padlock secures the coin purse with the locker key inside it.  Now I must walk back to my car, get inside using the keyless remote and retrieve the key to this lock before I can get in the locker again. 

As soon as I step out of the stall I get that shock as the egg spins to life inside me.  I must be close enough to the locker.  After regaining my composure I walk quickly past them and down the mall aways before the egg goes back to sleep inside me.  Wicked thoughts of multiple lockers cross through my mind as my heels click a quick step towards the car.

...SNAP, and the cool basement goes dark.  Any hope of the earlier release is gone now.  I can still hear the rotary timer buzzing, but it does that after it shuts the lights off.  I had my boyfriend (at the time) install the timer in place of a regular switch, claiming that I always forgot to shut off the lights down here.  I can just make out the lock hanging in front of me, but there is no way to see the numbers.  I'll have to wait for the ice to melt and drop the other set of keys to the floor.  I try pulling at the binding ropes again, wondering if the little rope ratchets are really that strong.  One secures my arms up nearly to the back of my neck, locked to the leather cuffs and tied into the web of ropes making up my waist harness.  The free end still dangles somewhere between my ankles, where I had tied it off as I was preparing.  A ring tied into the ropes on my chest acts like a pulley so my wrists are up high and the ratchet is away from my fingers.  After getting ready a kick of my ankles cinched my hands up tightly.  The other ratchet is similarly secured, but I pulled my ankles up tight with my hands.  I still can't find either of them, and I'm not sure I could get them to loosen up if I did...

Of course I can't just walk straight to the car and straight back, that would be like cheating.  The Target store is at this end of the mall, so I force myself to walk completely through it, right to those creepy back aisles where they put the odd, unsellable things.  On the way back I detoured back closer to the lockers, trying to find just where the limit is for the remote's range.  Past the foodcourt, right to the chinese food place and it purrs to life again.  I'm sure the woman in front of me had some kind of suspicion or something, because she pulled her husband/boyfriend away from me when I stopped right in front of them.  Maybe I had an odd look on my face, but that will happen when you're forced to be in public with an egg locked between your hips.

Back down the main portion of the mall I just had to stop into Hot Topic.  Someone special reading this is smiling right now, and she knows why I had to go take a peek in there.  Alas, no high necked corsets or blushing salesgirls were to be found.

About halfway back to my car the egg decided to wake up.  It began with just a few teasing buzzes, and then would occasionally tickles me for a few steps.  It stopped soon after and I have no idea why it would do that, perhaps some vagary in radio waves, or.. whatever, it did it and I was pleasantly surprised, indeed hoping it would again.

...It's amazingly quiet down here.  The old house doesn't make much noise in the winter at night.  The creaks and groans that I attribute to it's 80 plus years seem to be hushed by snow and cold weather.  But I hear every little noise.  The refrigerator, a thump I attribute to the cat, the clicks and gas-burner sounds of the furnace.  The teasing torture of the string of beads in my rear against the benwa balls inside me are just not enough to make time pass any faster.  I suppose it somehow stretches out, feels much much longer for me.  This is the time in a strict self tie that I both hate to experience, yet crave the memories of.  I know, lying there on the floor helpless I just know that I'll relive this night, using it to fuel my masturbation fantasies.  I relish the sounds of my own movement, the popping squeaks/liquidy sounds of latex on the cardboard, my own gagged gasps as the toys shift with my struggles.  I have to search for the spot on the floor now. find where the ice is dripping and get myself under it.  Once again making my release mechanism a part of my torment, the cold drips barely felt through the heavy covering of rubber on my skin....

The clicks of my heels on the tiled floor make me shudder inside.  I sometimes wish I had a job where I could wear heels all day.  But then the novelty might wear off.  I'm on my way back now, having gotten the key from my car, getting closer to the foodcourt and that remote.  I always wonder, could there be anyone else close by with something locked, something tormenting their sex drive.  I always doubt it, I believe I must be the one person perverted enough to do this to myself.  And that always makes me wonder if there is someone nearby willing to take the little bit of control I have away from me.  *Shudder* and I'm standing still in front of Sabarro.  Not facing anyone, just standing there, probably with a blank look on my blushing face.  Quicker steps take me to the locker, then a fast walk back the length of the mall.  Now I'm sure people are looking at me.  All the tables in the foodcourt have penetrating eyes, able to see what I've done to myself.  Judging looks from so many faces make me think the egg must be audible, even in the chaos of voices.

...I hear the drips before I can feel them.  Eventually I work myself under the spot.  Cold water runs along the collar of the catsuits, trying to find it's way inside but only making me shiver as it wets my hair and neck.  I try to twist around and see the ice above me.  It's low enough that i would bump my head into it if I were able to stand.  It's too dark to make out much more than a shape though.  It's been more than an hour I know.  I had twisted the timer on the lights just before lying on the floor and it's max setting is just about an hour.  Guessing at the time puts it somewhere around midnight.  A plastic bowl full of water, frozen with a coil of string within keeps me captive.  Uncaring, unable to give in to my gagged begging.  Sometimes it's the perfect dominant.  It's cold down here, probably low sixties.  I rarely play in the basement.  I don't know what effect it will have on my time spent hogtied on the floor.  I've gotten the ropes so tight that I can't even move my hips enough to stimulate myself anymore.  An orgasm is not going to happen until after I get free....

Back to the car.  One hand in my crotch the entire ride home.  Distracted driving at it's finest.  Back in my house to pick up the metal box.  It's no good, I can't get myself out of the PVC until the computer program gives me back my combinations.  I can't get off on the egg alone.  If I could rub myself too or touch my nipples, but the vinyl covering me doesn't allow that.  So I try to distract myself, nothing helps.  I clean the house with the wicked little egg whirring inside of me.  Halfway across the living room I fall to my knees, hands to my crotch, whimpering.  Still no orgasm, no way out except destruction of my garment, which I cannot do.  So I sit, and plan.  Dream up ways to prolong the delicious torment even longer.  Is my willpower strong enough once I can get this PVC off of my body?  I doubt it, but I know that I'm too turned on to stop now.  Preparations to make, ice water to freeze.  And I know I will be up late tonight....


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