Paneuf19

story continues from part one Part 2 I looked around the boiler room again, hoping against hope to find my clothes. No such luck was to be mine. The only cloth I found was a dirty red mechanic’s rag, that would barely cover my crotch. I stood looking at the items on the work bench. Well, what an idiot I was, there on the bench were my car keys, and parked right next to the building was my car. I didn’t have to dodge my way bush to tree all the way across town after all, I could drive home in comfort. ...

The old hospital was dark. The faint aroma of antiseptic cleaners still lingered in the stale air. This disused four story, plus basement, facility was going to be my next self bondage venue. A little back ground info just to set the stage for you. I live in rural Canada. In the small town in which I reside stands the above mentioned hospital. Here, the government owns an operates the regional health districts which over see the medical facilities in their area. The hospital in my town was closed two years ago in a politically motivated “stream lining” of the health care system. The bad news is we have to drive fifteen miles to the neighboring town for a hospital. The good news, for me anyway, is that I was hired to be caretaker \ watchman of the mothballed building. This means I have the keys and the right to enter and move around the empty building and grounds. ...

story continues from ‘A Ride to?’ The Adventures of Ken The Missed Detail I hope that you have read my first adventure, ‘A Ride To?’ If not then a brief introduction: I am a single male age 35. I live in a small rural community in Canada. Needless to say, I’m into self-bondage and have been for quite some time. After my last close call and the ensuing trip in the trunk, I had kept my bondage sessions indoors and lower risk. Well, that was the plan anyway. I had several EDOs accumulated at work, and I decided to take a few and have a long weekend to myself to indulge my passion. To avoid people dropping by the house, I let it be known that I was going to be gone over the weekend. I went and checked my mail at the Post Office and on the way home ran into Jennifer, a 30+ lady who lives in one of the few apartments in town and commutes an hour to her job in Town, as the locals call Lamsburg. I have been on friendly terms with her for a couple of years, but have never pursued a relationship. I don’t know why I haven’t, as I find her very attractive and she is often the center of my erotic thoughts. I chatted with her for a few minutes, mentioned I would be away until Tuesday night. She told me to have a nice trip and with a brief wave headed toward her home. ...

continued from part one Part 2: The Voices Return The last time I indulged in some outdoor self-bondage, my planned two hour session was shanghaied by two trespassing women I referred to as Voice One and Voice Two (see Trespassed). They didn’t harm me, but my two hour session turned into thirty six hours of being teased and kept on the brink of cumming without being allowed any satisfaction. The two made use of my home freezer to re freeze my ice timer and then returned it to where I had placed it, so that a couple of hours after they had left the key fell into my hand and I was able to free myself. They left me a note inviting me to spend time with them again the next time I planned an “outdoor adventure”. ...

I’ve been into self-bondage since I was about ten years old. I really can’t recall what got me started, but my first memory of tying myself up is of having bound myself in a hog tie with ropes while lying naked on my closet floor. I was almost caught by my Mother, who opened the closet door so it was partly open and I could see her, but fortunately she didn’t see me. I can still remember the rush; a mixture of fear and excitement, that close call gave me. ...