It was an overcast but warm August weekday and I had the week off and my husband Steve was out of town, so I figured it would be a great opportunity to do some nude, outdoor bondage. I went to my bedroom after grabbing three zip bags from the kitchen and started assembling the accessories for this adventure: some locks, their keys, some chains, leather cuffs, spandex hood, ring gag, and two kitchen safes (time locking containers). ...
Continues on from the story: Stuffed Stocking & Stuffed Stocking Redux Stuffed Stocking – Round Three For the two previous Christmases, I presented myself to my boyfriend Steve naked, bound and ‘stuffed’ into a specially modified giant Christmas stocking. The principal modification was to line it with Kevlar (as well as make the suspension loops with it), making the stocking strong enough to suspend me (see ‘Stuffed Stocking’) or inescapably encase me (see ‘Stuffed Stocking Redux). In that last episode, he wound up dragging me by his cock and balls (read the story) as I shuffled along with his cock stuck in my mouth en route to getting the keys for our release. Although this trek had no impact on the Kevlar lining, it did a job on the felt on the sole of the stocking, making it unsightly to say the least. ...
Continues on from the story: Stuffed Stocking_ Stuffed Stocking 2: Redux It had been almost a year since my boyfriend Steve came home on Christmas Eve to find me naked, bound and hanging from his foyer wall in an oversized (specially modified) red Christmas stocking. Needless to say, the evening turned out to be a night we’ll both remember forever. I wanted to do something equally sexy but less elaborate this year and, after all, I still had the stocking so it made sense to put it to use in whatever plan I came up with. For those of you who haven’t read about that previous adventure (Stuffed Stocking), I modified the lining and suspension hoops of the stocking to be made of Kevlar so it was super strong and could hold my weight without tearing. ...
This particular adventure dates back a few years to when I was in college and house-sitting one summer. The house itself was outrageous – probably over 9,000 square feet and on a dozen wooded acres abutting a land conservancy so it was quite secluded. I actually was dog-sitting more than house-sitting. Roscoe was a lovable chocolate lab who needed to be looked after while his owners were away for a couple of months on a world tour – but that’s another story. ...
Author’s note: A self-bondage experience from a few years ago that didn’t quite go as planned (one of a few). I saw the ravine from our living room window on almost a daily basis. It, and the serpentine brook that created it, spanned the length of the small park extending from the lake upstream to a runoff below. This section of the park was about a mile long and no more than a quarter mile wide and was bounded by busy roads bordered by stately homes or apartment buildings such as the one in which I lived with my two roommates. For the most part the ravine’s walls were 30 to 50 feet high, and hovering above one of its deepest sections there was a small collection of townhouses that backed up to the gorge, but otherwise it was entirely surrounded by brush and jogging paths while canopied by dense foliage. At both ends its walls tapered such that access was possible on foot. Nonetheless, I’d never seen anyone hiking it, even in dry weather when the brook was shallow or nonexistent. One summer morning, while staring at it from my window, I resolved to act out one of my favorite activities there – nude, outdoor self-bondage. ...
Last summer, my boyfriend Steve and I were rummaging through some of his old Playboy magazines and reading the Advisor columns to each other. In one letter, a guy wrote about a bondage game that he and his girlfriend would do at night on a golf course in which they injected an element of chance that they would be stuck in bondage until discovered the next morning. Briefly, they would prepare a set of 100 envelopes of which 95 had a key which would open a set of locks and the other five had pennies (to make them indistinguishable by weight). They would then mix all the envelopes and pick five at random to take on their adventure. Under cover of darkness they would sneak onto the course, put their clothes and possessions out of their reach and (envelopes within their reach) chain themselves to some immovable object like a tree. They would then proceed to have monkey sex knowing that there was a one in a gazillion chance that they would be trapped there to be discovered and humiliated in the morning. Predictably the advisor admonished them that this was not safe, they should at least keep a cell phone at hand in the event that something would go wrong, blah, blah, blah. ...
It all began when I was browsing some catalogs and came across a giant red and white Christmas stocking. Checking out the dimensions it was clear that it was more than big enough for me to fit inside. I grabbed my computer and credit card and ordered one for expedited shipping. Thus my plan for me to be my boyfriend Steve’s personal stocking stuffer was hatched. A couple of days later the stocking arrived and I quickly took it to my room, shutting and locking the door. Outside, the stocking was exquisitely soft but the inside was a rougher material. There were two thin straps for hanging it on a wall and although they were probably more than adequate to hang the stocking and an assortment of various gifts, they clearly would not withstand suspending a 5 foot 5 inch, 126 pound woman. Stripping down to my bra and panties I decided to try it on for size. Stepping into its ‘foot’, I pulled the sides up around me as far as it would go. Unfortunately, that left its top just below my breasts. I figured that I would be more fully ‘stuffed’ into the stocking if I tried kneeling instead of standing on my feet, so I dropped the sides and then got on my knees, bringing my feet up to my butt. It was hard to stay balanced, however, so I moved the whole apparatus over by a wall and this time leaned forward with my forehead against the wall. This time I was able to pull the stocking all the way up to my neck. “Perfect,” I thought. A frog-tie would definitely be part of my bondage stocking stuffer outfit. ...