Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

Writers Block, Field Research

by Jackie Rabbit

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2014 - Jackie Rabbit - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; naked; outdoors; cuffs; chain; spreadeagle; caught; F/f; tease; bdsm; crop; torment; hum; blackmail; cons/reluct; X

I have had several cases of temporary writers block over the years, not due to a lack of imagination, but lately more a lack of proper real world experiences to base them off of. I realized this was likely due to a lack of time set aside to play outside as I used to like to do, and I knew something drastic was needed if I was ever going to finish the stories I had ongoing at the Plaza. I knew it wasn't fair to leave any readers who were interested in the stories I had started hanging, but this time I needed more that just the desire to share my thoughts with the other like minded souls of the plaza.

I struggled to find either a suitable motivation (other than guilt), or possibly a punishment to encourage my writing, and stranding myself in self bondage with hours to kill before the planned escape seemed like the best private and discrete motivator. I expected those hours between when I closed the last lock and my eventual escape would help me to contemplate my written main character's actions, but not their fates, as I usually know how my stories end before I start them...

I froze my unique (I thought) release method the day before, and as a further motivator and safety for my self indulgent play I called my former spouse and invited him over on a pretense. I made the invitation for five pm, long after when I should have been out of my self imposed punishment, hopefully with a mind full of delicious ideas for my characters. He was a former spouse because Jill, his present one, and I had stolen him back and forth, but she eventually got to keep him. I was quite bitter about that for some time as he was quite the catch, and petite Jill for her part never let me forget the time when she had established her dominance over me socially. That little misadventure lead to "The Reluctant Racing Pony" stories, as I envisioned her as my merciless jockey, not only humiliating me in front of just about everybody we knew, but also stealing Ken from me permanently. If nothing else, Jill at least inspired me to write a well received story for the Plaza.

I put my release device in my backpack, along with my medical grade cuffs and other things, after leaving a note on the fridge as to where Ken could find me if I wasn't home. I had a secluded walk to the path behind my house with no neighbors nearby, and that lead to the stand of pine trees and their soft but sticky bed of needles beneath. The trees were about a quarter mile up the well worn private path, and most were the perfect distance for some four corner self bondage nice and safe in the shade. Fresh out of a long bath I wore only a pair of old sneakers to my destination while carrying my backpack, with visions of being a naked damsel in distress under the control of some evil characters with nefarious intentions. Would my imaginary captors have their way with me? Not until I finished at least one of the several stories I had running at the Plaza.

I have many toys, some quite elaborate, and that combined with my rather creative imagination could have easily had me orgasm exhausted as I struggled with my bonds for my imaginary captors. Even though that would have been hugely satisfying I didn't want that this time, instead I chose the enforced short term denial of my desires, as I knew once I orgasmed out I would be useless as an author. Vibrating toys buried deep and held in place by panties and a crotch rope, perhaps with my tens unit's strategically placed pads tormenting me repeatedly as I bore down on a large bit gag sounded very tempting, but I purposely left those things in their hiding place at the foot of my usually empty bed.

I love being naked in the woods, and with no clothes in my backpack I couldn't even chicken out and dress if I heard someone (as unlikely as that was), with my only choice at that point to hide. I heard not a soul as expected on my short hike, found the stand of pine trees, (likely planted in perfect rows after the hard wood forest that used to be there was harvested sometime in the last century), and laid out my gear. I was intent on using those trees as immobile anchor points, a purpose those long gone lumberjacks couldn't possibly have imagined, especially with someone like me helplessly stretched out between them.

I laid down and spread eagled myself between the four trees I had selected, and for the sake of the stories I intended to finish, I somehow kept my hands from doing what it seemed they wanted to do on their own. Self control has never been one of my strong points, and I knew the sooner I cuffed myself up and removed that temptation, the better. I dug my heels into the soft pine needles with my legs spread comfortably, ( I would be in this position for hours), and did likewise with my hands to mark where the cuffs should lay. I had been spread eagled many times before, but gave myself quite the cramp once as I spread myself out far too widely while playing by myself with little common sense regard for the intended duration of that adventure. I looked nicely vulnerable spread out like that, but without another to monitor my safety I this time chose a more conservative position, as all I really had to do was prevent myself from doing myself for a few hours as I struggled for escape, and better stories.

My ankles would be secured around the back of two of the trees with a single chain and two carbines far stronger than I, but not all that heavy to carry. The soft fleece lined cuffs buckled around each ankle with incredible comfort, and had yet to leave a mark to tip off the casual observer at work as to what I sometimes did on my off time. The cuffs had two buckles each, and I turned the D ring to the inside of my foot so the rough chain wouldn't grind on the relatively soft parts of my body. This made any additional tension I put on my legs spread them out further, as the trees were farther apart that I could ever hope to spread either my arms or legs.

My wrist cuffs were also laid out where I had marked with my hands, and already locked closed in the last link of that chain was my frozen pad lock with it's key already frozen inside it's tumblers. I had placed it into my freezer the previous day in a plastic bag full of water, and I knew from experience that it wouldn't open until it was completely thawed, despite the keys tempting presence deep within the ice block. The loose end of the chain was passed through the cuff's D ring, (with the frozen lock preventing the chain from running through the ring and releasing me), and then around the back of both trees near my head. I buckled both cuffs onto my wrists, laid onto my back and reached for the loose end of the chain I laid out, and then pulled the chain with my left hand as the cuff around my right pulled me toward the trees by my head.

I wiggled my butt in that direction as well, spreading my legs considerably further that what was comfortable, but I knew it was only for a few seconds. I had a normal pad lock entwined in the D ring of my left cuff where I could reach it with my left hand, my intention to lock it closed around the tightest link I could reach. I had done this before on my four poster bed, with the only downside being the wet spot caused by the melting ice, and the relatively difficult time I had locking the last lock's hasp one handed on a soft bed. The rough earth made that easier than I had thought, and once I had that lock firmly closed, (with it's own key safely inside my toy box at the base of my bed), I wiggled down toward the trees near my ankles until I was centered between the four.

The position was just about perfect with just enough slack between the trees, and I struggled some just to get into the mood, cracking several joints in my knees and back in reward for my efforts. I knew all I needed to make this truly perfect was a man, or men to take advantage of my helplessness, and as if my body heard my thoughts I felt it respond in typical fashion. My mind drifted from one story to another with little else to concentrate on, I knew how each ended already, but the details seemed just out of my reach. I told myself that if this didn't work, my next form of self punishment would be total abstinence, only rewarding myself with relief if I finished a story well enough to get some positive forum feedback.

I further decided that any negative feedback, (I don't ever recall any on the forum as Gromet's readers are quite hospitable), but if I did receive any I would value one negative as the equal of two positives, and my abstinence would continue until the balance of comments were in the positive. The thought of being at the mercy of Gromet's forum readers for such a personal thing was quite a submissive turn on, and possibly the best motivator I had thought of to date.


I kept coming back to my feminized first husband in my forced day dreams, he making a far better woman than a man with his sensitive nature and slim shaved body. He made quite the submissive maid as well, and saved me countless hours of housework in the process. I used this free time to explore the depths of my depravity with both his best friend and his knowledge, my conscience conspicuously silent, or at least overruled by my lust. We had dressed him up as a cheerleader once on a dare for a party, and discovered his passion for being forced to cross dress as well, without all that much actual force being needed. The entire situation was disparagingly called "cuckolding", usually a pejorative term, but in our case an incredible adventure while it lasted.

I then thought of pony girls, (a favorite subject for me as I used to ride real horses once), and my secret desire to take the place of those magnificent beasts while wearing their bits and tack. I imagined Jill as my cruel jockey, and while I was bitter with the way she stole Ken back from me, part of me wanted her to drive me hard to punish me for all the rotten things I had let my lust talk me into. We were social with each other these days for Ken's sake, but I suspected deep down she also held one hell of a grudge.

...My day dreams were interrupted by a noise and my eyes snapped open, ending the horribly erotic scenes I was watching unfold on the inside of my closed eye lids. My limbs however were held fast by my chains and cuffs, as by instinct I thought to get up and hide, but I only achieved a brief and useless struggle session with the winner already chosen by the totality of my restraint. The lock was still frozen solid as I hadn't been in position all that long, and I forced myself to lay still and listen for any additional noises without the chains being made to rattle. The chains noise not only preventing me from hearing, but making me easily heard as their metallic sounds stood out as unnatural in the quiet environment.

I heard still another noise, but so gentle a footfall that I thought it a squirrel or rabbit walking nearby. I closed my eyes and laughed at my foolishness, just a nearly silent chuckle really.

"What's so funny" I heard from down the trail, and my heart froze in my chest, hoping above hope that I didn't really hear what I just did.

Time stopped for me, but all too soon I heard light footfalls approach my position, search left and right, and finally call out my name.

"Jackie, where the hell are you, I have no time for this hide and seek B.S." The words over loud in the silent woods.

I remained dead silent while listening to my own heart beat far too loudly, hoping above all else that Jill and her voice would just give up and go away.

"Oh you kinky little slut" she howled when she found my hiding spot, and then she laughed uncontrollably as she stared at my breasts. "One hundred percent natural my ass." She was red in the face when she finally regained control, only to put her tiny hands on her hips and look both me and my restraints up and down in careful inspection, before taking out her phone and snapping several pictures for obvious blackmail purposes.

"I decided to come over early instead of letting Ken come later because I had a feeling you were up to something, and I arranged my schedule to be 'conveniently' in the neighborhood as far as he was concerned. Was it your intention to seduce my husband still again with this 'offer' of yourself? I could leave you here after I steal your key you know, maybe after I gag you so you can't beg for help. Maybe I'll go to your house and ransack it to find the other toys you must surely have and have some real fun with you first, before I pour honey all over you to make you sweet enough for the ants to devour. Better yet if I did all those things, and then drove your car to the airport and left it in the long term parking area."

"Please no", I begged, suddenly wondering if I would survive this. I knew Jill could be socially ruthless, but causing me to be eaten alive by ants baited into the task seemed well beyond even her. "I was merely trying to come up with some ideas for.........., that is, I thought Ken would be a good safety in case something went wrong. Please let me out."

"Not on your life. Opportunities like this only come along so often, and I have no intention of squandering this one. I'm going back to the house to look through your things while I ponder your sincerity. Where are your toys by the way? Or should I just find the honey and pancake syrup instead as I can guess where they are."

"The cedar chest at the foot of my bed" I answered, with full defeat and surrender obvious in my tone.

"How original, I may be back."


Jill did eventually return, and long before my iced over lock thawed out enough so that I could open it, despite touching the block of ice it with my fingers to try to warm it. She apparently had a bag full of my things and a very smug look on her face, and I wondered if things could possibly get any worse with my one time rival having such an upper hand with me.

"Are you thirsty?" she asked.

I was, and gratefully accepted the water she helped me drink in my prone position. I saw that as a good sign, for if she intended to pour honey all over me so the ants could have a feast she wouldn't have bothered.

"You have quite the collection of toys, but of most interest to me was the sight you had bookmarked on your laptop. Gromet's Plaza, a most interesting place, I read several of the stories there and instantly saw what attracted you to it, and then came across one with a familiar sounding author's name. I read that one, and several others by her, and thought I might know her. They are your stories, aren't they?"

There was no way I was ever going to admit such a thing to Jill, she would use that knowledge, and her pictures of me sprawled out between the trees to coerce me into all kinds of things. She had no reason to show me the slightest bit of mercy either, and with her new found knowledge I could become her virtual slave, but that was still better than becoming a feast for the local ant population.

"When I ask you a question Jackie, or would you prefer 'Milk Maid', I expect an answer." She said this while looking at my eyes to see the reaction I couldn't suppress, but then shifted her attention to my rather prominent breasts standing up on display as nature never intended for ones this large. Confirming between the two of us what I had always denied to her face. Yes I had them done, or as some would say, overdone.

I felt a cold pit in my stomach, as if the water I just drank had frozen inside of me. Of all the things she could do in my house unattended, she chose to snoop on my computer with it's Plaza link. Then of all the things she could do with that, she chose the one story that I actually mentioned her by name in. The more I thought about it though, it just made no sense, what were the odds of her reading that particular story, or coming to the conclusion that I was that "Jackie".

Jill pulled my flogger out of the bag she brought from my house, I had seldom used it only because it is difficult to "flog" yourself while self bound as the whole tortured damsel in distress fantasy falls apart under such circumstances. My tens unit is far better for such times with it's mindless electrical attacks, but that lacks the whole medieval theme that I return to time and again as darkly irresistible.

...I had participated in a realistic castle dungeon reenactment once for an adult themed Halloween haunted house, it was one of the most exciting things I had ever done, especially since I got so into my part that I convinced myself and all who watched that my torment was real. I was bound, flogged, racked, and hanged while nearly naked all in the same night for charity, and after the guests went home the real fun started for the cast members at my expense...

The flogger gently slapping my breasts brought me back to the present.

"For the moment lets say that I believe you, I'm going to borrow your laptop for a few days to catch up on my reading, after you give me your email information so I can see what else you have been up to."

Jill was standing over me with one foot on either side of my stomach while she gently swung her weapon back and forth across my breasts as if she were half heartily sweeping with a broom. Her knees were bent, and her dress short enough that I couldn't help but to see her contrasting panties at the juncture of her tan thighs, and she made eye contact with me when she caught me looking. Even though I was nude and spread eagled in front of her with not a secret to be kept, I was hugely embarrassed to be caught looking up her dress.

"Most interesting" she commented. "Many say that your eyes indicate your true desires, or possibly only your desire to do just about anything in order for me to let you out of this little trap you have made for yourself. What is your email password? I could of course beat it out of you, but judging from your writing preferences that might not be effective."

I clamped my lips tight and shook my head "no", frightened that if I spoke I might not stop until I revealed far more than I ever wanted about what I liked. I was in no logical position to bargain or resist, so Jill likely took my silence for an offer to give it "her best shot", which she did.

Jill swung progressively harder at my breasts left and right, but not using anywhere near her full strength as she was in rather good physical shape for one of her petite size. I watched with morbid fascination as my fleshy bits were dragged along with the impact of the flogger's tails, and unlike in my infrequent play with the thing at moments of extreme passion, I came to the conclusion that it stung like hell when wielded by her. This one after all was no Halloween house prop, but a somewhat accurate reproduction of the real thing.

Jill took a break to unbutton her nice dress and step out of it, not for my benefit, but to prevent it from getting sweated up with her exertions. She hung it on a convenient branch, and I once again got to look at her rather perfect little body, but this time in lacy bra and panties instead of her poolside bikinis. I couldn't blame Ken for wanting her, most men and some women would just based on her looks alone. I didn't necessarily "want her", despite my earlier stare, but I had been with women before with them in the "top" position for some wonderful fun.

I didn't know if she could possibly know what was going through my mind, but this was getting closer and closer to the story I had written once with her as my main antagonist. She had read that one obviously with her "Milk Maid" taunt, but could she possibly know the power she could wield if I were to let her have control of me?

"I wrote that story, and several others, as that was a very bad time for me. I have lost so much to you over these last few years, and I would be most grateful if you wouldn't make me give up my email secrets. I would be willing to do almost anything instead," I offered subtly. The ball was in her court now, did she want to use me like that, or just have an excuse to flog me some more?

"Almost anything? I could make you do anything I want right now. ANY THING I desire, only limited by my imagination and compassion."

"OK, I would be willing to do anything, and the 'willing' part might just save your conscience one day, trust me."

The smile grew across her face as she realized the totality of my commitment, there were no limits really, nor an expiration date.

"Here's the way of this 'Milk Maid', I have always wanted a pet of my own, at least ever since Ken told me about the one the two of you collectively owned once. One that can be taken out and played with, lent to others, or used in more skilled pursuits like 'volunteering' to be my maid when I have the need. I have read enough of your stories to know you yearn to be the pet, rather that the pet's master, and I suspect this may give purpose to your pointless life as well as some much needed direction. I have some other desires of my own at the moment, but I will leave you here to consider your answer, and how magnificent your pictures would look all over the net with your full name and phone numbers if you choose not to accept my kind offer. You could become instantly more popular that you could possibly imagine virtually overnight, but also likely unemployed as well."

Jill dressed and left without another word, but the passion of the moment had me wanting to agree to her terms right there. I laid there thinking that wasn't what she wanted, but what suited me. She apparently was willing to risk me backing out of any agreement made in hast and convenience for a more long term kind of obligation of the kind not easily broken. I couldn't think about my stories as I lay there, only how my fate had changed in just a few hours.

It was probably two in the afternoon when the lock had thawed enough that I could wrench the key back and forth without the threat of breaking the key off in it. I released myself and dumped my things into the same bag I had carried them up the trail in, but so much had changed since then. Once back at my house I found my cell phone, and the doors locked.

You can also leave your feedback & comments about this story on the Plaza Forum


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