Jane stood in the bedroom and studied herself in the full length mirror.
The reflection showed a tall, young woman. She was slim, although Jane would have called
herself skinny and her breasts were virtually non existent.
To her, they looked more like enlarged nipples, than the voluptuous
breasts that better looking females could push out and
exhibit to the world. Her hair was blonde but the cut was short, straight and practical. The skin was smooth and unblemished but there
was no doubt that she was, as her name implied, a 'Plain Jane'. She sighed and turned away from her mirror
image, to a number of articles that were laid out on
the bed.
Among the various items were some lengths of rope and she
picked one up, sat down on the edge of the bed, bent over and began to slowly
and carefully bind her ankles together.
Because she was doing it herself, she knew her own limits and could wrap
the rope around her ankles quite tightly, making neat turns, one above the
other and then, taking the rope between her legs and round, between her feet,
she pulled the encircling rope up in a cinch.
She knotted the ends of the rope in the front so that it would at least
be far more difficult for her prying fingers to reach, when her hands were
secured behind her back. Taking a short
length of chain and threaded that too, between her legs and around her feet,
over the rope that secured her ankles.
The chain was padlocked together, to form a short loop, allowing an inch
or so of slack. This would be useful later on.
Another length of rope went around her legs, just above
the knees and this too was cinched, with the knot carefully tied in front and
this was duplicated, by tying another rope just below the knees and finishing
off in the same manner. She tried
bending her legs and although the ropes were tight and most certainly would not
slip, they allowed her legs to bend, if somewhat stiffly.
Picking up a reasonably large foam sponge from the
collection of items, she started to work the soft material into her mouth. It looked far too large to fill such a small area but her fingers pushed and squashed the foam into each
side of her mouth, puffing out her cheeks, then filling the central part of her
mouth, holding down her tongue and packing the mouth out to capacity. With the sponge pushed completely inside, she
worked her jaws a little, settling the foam sponge into place and making it
reasonably comfortable. She did not
expect it to be actually comfortable but she did not
want to choke or even for it to make her cough, with her mouth packed out like
that. She tried to swallow and found
that she could manage with some difficulty and at least, unlike a rubber ball
gag, the sponge absorbed the saliva and she would not have the problem of
dribbling. A leather strap went around
her head, over the sponge and between her teeth and then buckled up at the back
and pulled up tight. This forced the sponge
further back into her mouth, making sure that the filling would stay in
place. Knowing from past
experience that she could, perhaps with some difficulty, work the foam
sponge out, past the leather strap if she were given time, she took a roll of
elasticated bandage and wound the wide, stretchy material round and round the
lower half of her face, pulling each turn up tight, squashing her face a little
but securely trapping the foam inside her mouth. It would not be pushed out now. The slight distortion of her face caused her
to breathe a little harder through her nose than she would normally have done,
to enable her to draw in sufficient quantities of air. She paused, to make quite sure that her
intake of air was not too restricted.
The air, being drawn in and out through her nose was audible but it
would not trouble her.
Next, she picked up a wide leather belt and, forming it
into a long loop, flipped it over her head and down her back, so that when she
buckled the strap together at the front and just below her chest, it went
around her body and her upper arms, above the elbows. The strap was pulled up as tight as she could
pull it and her nimble fingers fastened the buckle.
Now she knelt up, in the centre of the bed, picked up a
pair of handcuffs and turned round as best she could,
to thread the handcuffs through the loop of chain at her ankles. Jane looked across the room, to the small
stool, upon which the keys to the handcuffs lay. Now she was ready to complete her bondage.
Glancing down at the handcuffs, she made sure that the
keyholes on both 'cuffs were facing towards her fingers, so that she would be
able to fit the key in when she wanted to, then placed the first 'cuff around
her right wrist and clicked it shut, making quite sure that it was not too
tight. It would not do to have the
handcuffs so tight that they cut off the circulation to her hands, so that she
was not able to operate the key. Making
sure that the 'cuff for her other wrist was facing the right way, she placed it
around her wrist but before clicking it shut, she took a deep breath and
thought for a moment. Thought of what
she was about to do.
She realised that it was silly to put herself into
bondage, when she was relying entirely on her own resources to set herself free but it was also very, very exciting. She could feel her heart thumping and the
feeling of arousal deep inside her was almost unbearable. Jane knew that her fanny was running wet and
hot. Should she abandon the idea of self
bondage and simply masturbate herself?
That would be so good, so exciting and so satisfying but if she did,
then it would all be over in a few minutes and she was so horny, that to simply
put a finger or a vibrator to her fanny at this moment, would be sufficient to
achieve orgasm. After all this
preparation and anticipation, that would almost be an anti-climax. She had been looking forward all week to
spending several hours in bondage, this was to be the day
and this is what she must do.
Without allowing herself any more time to consider what
she should do, her fingers closed over the chrome metal handcuff and, with a
click, the job was done. She was in
bondage and until she reached that key on the other side of the room and
released those bands of steel around her wrists, she was as helpless as if
someone else had put her into bondage.
She was bound hand and foot, hog-tied and efficiently gagged.
Kneeling on the bed, she tested her bonds, to see if she
could wriggle free but there was no escape.
The only way out of it was to crawl across the room to that little key
and to do that, she would have to get off the bed, a daunting task in itself, with her hands held close to her feet in a
hog-tie.
She had decided to spend the afternoon in bondage, for a
minimum of at least three hours and in that case, she could hardly stay
kneeling all the time. She wanted to lie
down and tried to put her hand out, to prevent herself from falling, then
realised that this was not possible. She
was in bondage. The only way to lie down
was to let herself fall over and, plucking up the courage, she flopped heavily
over on her side. With a short wriggle,
she was central in the bed and reasonably comfortable. The ideal thing would be to get some
sleep. It was always exciting to fall
off to sleep while in bondage, then wake up with a start, wondering where you
were and why you couldn't speak or move.
'Calm down', she told herself. Relax.
Enjoy the experience. She
regulated her breathing, forced herself to relax and the horny feeling came
back, stronger than ever. She tried to
shut out the feeling by listening to the distant sounds of people, as they
passed by in the street outside. To
think that they were going about their mundane, every day business. Just ordinary people doing ordinary things,
while she lay there, naked, bound and gagged.
If she tried to call out, no-one would hear. She was gagged and
her cries would be reduced to a muffled murmur.
It was exciting to be different, to be in bondage so near to those dull,
ordinary people and none of them realising that she was there. She struggled a little, pretending to try and
get free but not really wanting to, even if she could. Lifting her head, she tried to sit up but
found that she could not. She tried to
turn over but struggled even to do that.
Bringing her knees up tight to her chest in a foetal position, she
squeezed her legs tightly together, then struggled to try and get over on to
her face. She knew that it was a
hopeless task but the action of struggling excited her, made her so very, very
horny. Struggle and squeeze. Turn over. Lift the head and strain. Fight against the gag.
It was coming, the hot, exciting feeling was deep down
inside her and building, as if a dormant volcano had at last decided to
erupt. The hot, fiery smoulderings deep inside were pushing to the surface,
longing for someone or something to touch her fanny, to touch the trigger, to
set the fiery molten lava free.
Squeeze the legs, struggle and then, with the twinge of
some remote nerve and a hot, flooding surge, she climaxed and shuddered, trying
to gasp through the gag but only able to give out a muffled, satisfied
groan. She sank back onto the bed,
relaxing and trying to stretch her body, as a cat would after a satisfactory
sleep but the hog-tie would not let her.
'What a wonderful but terrible feeling that is,' she said to
herself. "There is only one thing
that would improve it and that is for someone else to tie me up and trigger
that volcano for me.' She sighed,
knowing that it was most unlikely to happen but it was
nice to dream. She felt comfortable and
satisfied. Her eyes closed, she relaxed and her breathing became deep and regular. She was asleep.
Jane woke with a start, not realising where she was or
why, when she tried to yawn, she couldn't.
It was only a second or so before she realised where she was and why she
was so helpless but it still came as a surprise to
her; a surprise that she had managed to go to sleep so easily and a surprise
that, when she looked at the clock, she had slept for over two hours. Perhaps she was more tired than she had
thought. Whatever the reason, it felt
good, a warm, cosy feeling and she could not make up her mind whether or not to get up or simply stay where she was and
try to get some more sleep. Perhaps it
would be better to get up. She was thirsty and she could always put herself back into bondage
if she felt like it.
Worming her way to the edge of the bed, nearest to the
stool upon which the key to her handcuffs lay, she worked her legs over the
side of the bed until they suddenly swung down and her
knees bumped down and were resting on the floor. From this kneeling position, she managed to
push the upper part of her body upright by pressing her head hard down on the
bed, then pushing up. Having achieved an upright kneeling position, she worked
her knees round, a tiny fraction at a time, until she was facing away from the
bed and towards her target, the stool.
There was just sufficient slack in the ropes around her
knees to allow her to move forward, very, very slowly but then, provided she
was actually making progress, she was in no particular
hurry. Even this small but continuous
effort made her breathe more heavily and she drew in deeply through her
nose. The additional effort started to
make her feel excited once more and her breathing became even heavier, not so
much through the exertion but mainly due to her excitement.
She reached the stool, turned her restricted body round
and reached out, as well as she could to grasp the key, then, having the precious
key in her hand, she continued her 'walk' to approach the full
length mirror, set in her wardrobe.
As she came into line with the mirror and progressed
slowly towards it, she studied herself and the sight of the bound and gagged
figure, struggling and at the moment helpless, added
to her excitement. She could not be
certain that she would reach the mirror before she climaxed again
but she kept going and worked herself close up to the mirror without collapsing
in a frenzy of orgasm.
Facing the mirror and pushing her hands to one side, as
much as possible, so that she could see the reflection of the handcuffs, she
aimed the key for one of the keyholes and after some trial and error, the key
went into the slot and was turned. With
a click, the chrome steel 'cuff sprung open.
One second she was helpless and in bondage, the
next she was free again and able to choose what she wanted to do. She was so excited, so horny, that she was
seriously tempted to snap the handcuff over her wrist again and struggle on the
floor to a climax but she decided that this time she
would resist the temptation. She was
amused by her self control but knew that even if she
didn't satisfy herself right now by masturbating or using a vibrator, she would
probably do something about it when she went to bed that night.
Removing her bondage, she carefully packed everything
away, then showered and prepared herself a meal, thinking about the pleasant
afternoon she had spent and the wonderful feeling it gave her. Then she thought about tomorrow and the
interview she had arranged, in the hopes of securing a new job. Perhaps she had better forget about reaching
any more climaxes for today, or she would be so tired, she would not be able to
concentrate on the interview. The
thought of her recent bondage and the prospects of bringing herself to another
climax, started to make her feel excited again.
'I expect I'll manage somehow,' she thought to herself with a quiet
smile.