continued from Another Date with Strand Strand came out to visit me the summer after my trip east. Ostensibly we were going to do some fishing. In actuality, if either of us got a line wet it would be a major surprise. I met him at the Amtrak station twenty miles from my property, we claimed his luggage, loaded it into my old GMC, and started up the two lane into the hills. ...

When I was a young runaway I spent a summer working at The Duke Hotel in San Franciscoʼs Tenderloin district. The hotel had new owners and they needed help. I was given a small apartment and twenty dollars a week in exchange for painting, cleaning, occasional shifts at the front desk, and various other duties. The hotelʼs clients were a varied lot including winos, hookers of both sexes, drug addicts and other assorted societal rejects. The manager was an ex-pimp named Mel. He was assisted by Karen who I assumed was an ex-working girl and by his younger brother Mike. ...

I had been shopping on-line a few days ago and was surprised when the postman handed me a package. I was expecting to receive it in a couple of weeks’ time. Sitting at the kitchen table with a coffee, I took the kitchen scissors and opened the parcel. Wrapped in their packaging, were 20 lovely large silk scarves of various colours and patterns. I had been dabbling in a little self-bondage recently as the boyfriend was working shifts and didn’t really want to play with me. Tired, what an excuse, hey! On one of these self-bondage occasions, I hadn’t locked the handcuffs properly and while I was rolling around like a damsel in distress getting into the mood, the cuffs decided to close tighter on my wrist. It turned out to be quite painful. So my idea was to use the scarves as additional padding on my wrists to prevent any circulation issues; oh, and they also make lovely gags to wear. So while I was drinking my coffee, my fingers were running over the silk material, and before I knew it, I was rubbing them against my cheek. They were lovely and cool and soft. It was then I had the soppy idea for a little scarf bondage, and to tie myself up in them. I had the kitchen shears to hand in case anything went wrong. Why not I thought. It wasn’t like I was a bondage novice. I am usually very careful. What could go wrong? I wasn’t going to panic as soon as the last tie was on me, or the last click of the cuff. I quickly had my ankles tied to each of the front chair legs. Next came my thighs. I pulled up my dress a little so I could tie my thighs to the tops of the chair legs and the seat so they were tightly splayed apart. The scarfs were large enough to cinch between my thigh and the seat. Wriggling my legs about I was firmly tied to the seat. The scarfs were soft but unyielding. I could close my thighs a few millimeters at the most, but they were tied comfortably without causing any pain. Just right, I thought. I was thinking of a way to tie my hands. I have always thought that it was cheating to have your hands tied in front. You could easily pull down a blindfold to see the knots, or reach a gag to use your teeth to bite at the bindings or call for help. I still needed to come up with a way to tie my hands behind my back, so while I was thinking, I rolled a scarf up into a tight ball and forced it into my mouth. I had to jam the last bit in and I felt like a little hamster with bulging cheeks. I rolled another scarf, corner to corner, and tied a nice knot in the middle, and pressed this on top of the scarf between my teeth. I then tied it nice and tight behind my neck. The scarf felt wonderful, so I took another and rolled it into a 3 inch strip and tied this in an over mouth gag. Now I felt just like one of those women in the 50’s gangster movie reruns. I was beginning to enjoy the captivity and was becoming quite aroused. I folded another scarf similar to the over mouth gag, and tied it across my eyes as a blindfold. Pushing it up so I could still see, I had a great idea to tie my hands. I rolled a scarf length ways and tied the corners together. I looped it over itself three times, and I had just enough room to squeeze my wrists into it. Now how was I to cinch it? I got my hands in and could get them out again. It wasn’t quite what I had in mind. I needed a slip knot to put between the two wrists to cinch them to make the tie seem more realistic. I thought about it then tied a type of hangman’s noose. Great. This could be cinched up, and then pulled back when I wanted to get free. Now if I tied the loose end to the back supports of the chair, I could pull my arms up and pull the cinch tight, and also have my wrists tied to the back of the chair. So I tied it. I put my wrist through the looped scarf, and then put the loop between the slip knot noose, and then with my free hand I pulled the blindfold down over my eyes. Putting my arms behind my back I squeezed my free wrist into the looped scarf and pulled my arms up which pulled the slip knot tight cinching my wrists together. I was now a tied up damsel, in peril from all the nasty gangsters and hoodlums. I mmmphed into the gag pretending to call for help. The blindfold cut out all light from the kitchen leaving me a prisoner in a black void. Pressing over my ears too, I couldn’t really hear a sound. No traffic from the road out front, just a hum from a mower. Probably a neighbour mowing his lawn, and that was faint due to the double glazing. I was in bliss, struggling in my own little world. I was horny and moist, and not just through the struggling. After half an hour or so I decided I was frustrated enough and would release myself and go upstairs for a play with one of my toys! ...

Intro: To my readers: my apologias for not posting more stories recently, but I have been working hard on two female domination and pony books entitled, Madam in Attendance & Chloe & Me, each to be published by the end of December 2011 byPink Flamingo publications electronically and in paperback. So I hope this new free story of female woe and sexuality tickles your fancy. Enjoy S. M. Ackerman. (2011) ...

continued from part 2 Part 3 It has been some time since I did anything worth writing about with my self bondage, I had repeated my earlier adventures several times with minor variations, but nothing new. I was getting bored and needed a new challenge, and I thought some form of suspension bondage would jump me up to the next level. I instinctively knew it could be deadly dangerous, and the more I read, the more I learned about safety. I knew what I had already done could be dangerous, but with those I still had maintained the freedom of travel. The act of fixing oneself to an unmovable object, like a tree, and having to work out your release before you move was much more exciting, and risky. I also knew if I cuffed myself to a tree and I couldn’t escape on my own I could have to spend days at the mercy of the weather and wild animals before any rescue. ...

continued from part 2 Part 3 Hi there, I’m Tommy and this is another story about one of the evenings I spent with my roommate. A little while after returning from the Christmas Holidays he and I discussed what we referred to as the Night before Christmas and I admitted I had been very impressed (and turned on) with the way he had used a sock as a sort of monoglove on my tied up arms. He then explained he had several more ideas he would be more than willing to show me. In exchange for another “liquid donation” off course. ...

I just got back from my holiday in Florida, and had arranged a session with two of my Bear friends, here is how it went: I got in around 5 P.M. Friday and we started to play around 8 P.M. (not sure after bagging) We arrived at the corner store around 9:00 P.M. (closed of course) and I go to the back room with them and slide into my black PVC thong, silver spandex hot pants and matching t-shirt. ...

I had been looking forward to a day’s leave on Friday to be shared with my wife, Sally, as we had planned on having a day out together. Unfortunately when she returned from work on the Thursday evening she announced that an important meeting had been arranged, at short notice, for the Friday morning and she wouldn’t be able to join me until the afternoon. But she assured me, we could still enjoy the ‘whole’ day. ...

The following story is a work of pure fiction. Any resemblance to any individual is purely coincidental. Part I I suppose I should start this with a brief introduction of myself. My name is Sara Greene and I’m 27 years old. I stand about 5’8” without heels and have a 34C-25-34 figure topped with strawberry blonde hair. My tits are nice and firm and I love to go to the store braless in just a thin t-shirt or romper and tease all the men. ...

“Abby? I’m Jack, a friend of Jane‘s. She said you were needing help with something?” “Oh, hello Jack. Please come in.” Stepping inside, Jack glanced around the small room. The apartment as a whole was small, somehow seeming suitable for a young woman fresh out of college. Finishing his brief examination, he turned back toward his hostess. “Thanks for coming over,” she was saying. “Did she tell you what it was I needed help with?” ...

“Welcome, Steven. Thank you for coming over on such short notice.” “My pleasure, Carol. What can I do for you today?” “Come in, come in.” Smiling, Carol stepped back, allowing Steve to enter. He’d been a bit surprised to see her answering the door herself. Whatever it was she wanted, he mused, it must be important. “This is your first time here, is it not?” Steve nodded slowly. “In that case, why don’t we begin with a tour?” ...

My sister was coming over for dinner and my boyfriend was just being a huge pain in the ass. I am trying to cook and he is trying to touch and kiss me. The moron couldn’t see I was busy. I finally had had enough of his infantile behavior. I wasn’t going to have him ruin a pleasant dinner with me and my sister, so I decided to teach him not to pester me, then get rid of him for the evening. I’ll make some excuse for him, Meredith will understand. We live in a female led relationship were I make all of the decisions and run both the house and the bedroom. In fact, I keep him locked in chastity most of the time. I think that was why he was getting so frisky. He has been denied for a week with one more to go, maybe more now. When I could take a break I ordered him into our bedroom and told him to strip naked. The idiot thought we were going to have sex or something. Not today sweetie. His attitude changed when he saw me getting out my bondage bag and taking out several skeins of rope although he does like his bondage games. ...

continued from part one Part 2: Driving Miss Crazy Chapter 1: Why Am I Here, And For How Long? Laura was lying naked upon the cold stone floor, curled in a foetal position. Following her ensnarement by the Mistress that night she had been left alone to reflect on her future. Her ankles and wrists had been cuffed together forestalling any attempt at escape. The dungeon was pitch black. The heat lamp which had relentlessly drained her body of moisture and energy was now extinguished, only a faint glow remained as its element cooled. She was unable to call out for help; the ball gag was still embedded firmly in her mouth, forcing her to breathe long deep breaths through her nose. Wet trails criss-crossed her face where the gag had drawn rivulets of saliva from its seal with her lips. ...

continued from chapter four PART ONE – TIM’S TALE Chapter 5: Carol’s Education Continues The camera angles were different this time, as quickly I could see two different angles, so the film had been subject to some editing. Now I could see Carol only in the background, trotting at a good pace, seemingly “comfortable” with the plug and bit. Monica came into view in the foreground, leading on a chain a woman dressed as a classic French maid. Well, this might be interesting, I thought. The chain is attached to a ring on a rubber and steel collar around the woman’s neck. She has not been otherwise tethered but she is very compliant and shows no resistance. ...

I unrolled the long, black hose, left it loosely coiled in the sun. The rototiller made quick work of the plot and hand digging took less than an hour. It ended up kidney-shaped, the trough a thin scar cutting across the middle. I made a couple of trips with the cart, unloaded the truck, and arranged the plants about the plot. The trough would be lined with bricks, but not just yet. ...

I unrolled the long, black hose, left it loosely coiled in the sun. The rototiller made quick work of the plot and hand digging took less than an hour. It ended up kidney-shaped, the trough a thin scar cutting across the middle. I made a couple of trips with the cart, unloaded the truck, and arranged the plants about the plot. The trough would be lined with bricks, but not just yet. ...

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned… Or so they say. A woman betrayed will act completely out of character, full of venom, driven by impulse almost to the very point of murder even! And Kate of course is no different…. A seventeen year relationship is one that by definition must be incredibly strong and difficult to break, and when it does become broken a woman can act impulsively, and dangerously, just as Alan is about to find out. ...

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned… Or so they say. A woman betrayed will act completely out of character, full of venom, driven by impulse almost to the very point of murder even! And Kate of course is no different…. A seventeen year relationship is one that by definition must be incredibly strong and difficult to break, and when it does become broken a woman can act impulsively, and dangerously, just as Alan is about to find out. ...

Joanna switched off the CD player, wound the windows up and got out of the car. One of her neighbours passed by and yelled “Hey Joanna! Looking good as always!” She turned, laughed and said, “Thank you, Mike! But I’ve had better days!” “Good day, today?” “Hectic.” “Ahh no, sorry to hear that. Maybe you should pop round my place for a bit and chill out. I’ve got a mountain of wine bottles at home!” ...

“Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? With sil-” “Mrs. Smythe?” Mary whirled. “Oh! I’m sorry if I startled you.” Mary smiled. “No, no, dear, that’s all right.” “I’m Edna Lambe from the university extension.” “Yes, dear.” “I was wondering if I could talk with you for a few minutes. You have a reputation for growing prize-winning produce and I was wondering if you would share your secret. All in the name of science you understand.” ...