In Memoriam – Elaine H., 1949-1999 Part Two Please read part 1 first for this to make more sense After an eternity of waiting and suffering, I heard a key on the front door and the door opening and closing. For a moment, there was silence, and then the sound of the toilet flushing Melanie’s output safely away. Then I heard footsteps on the stairs and the door opened. I couldn’t see the door from my cell, so I just waited and looked at my reflection until…. ...

I Promised Myself This so I’m Going to Do It! by Sissy Suzy This is probably going to take longer to set the scene than describe the event but here goes. I am a sissy. Yes, I love to wear little satin dresses, petticoats and all manner of girlie clothing. I also love to be bound and, as if that wasn’t enough, I also love rubber. I am a married man with an accepting spouse who doesn’t really like to get involved in any part of this hobby of mine but fully appreciates that given the opportunity I am going to indulge in one, two or all three of them. ...

It all started when a friend invited me to a party. I thought this was going to be a regular party with drinking and dancing. Little did I know I was in for a shock. He told me to dress light even though the weather was a bit cold. He told me I would enjoy myself. So later on in the evening he picked me up from my place. We then drove to what seemed to be some sort of plant. I didn’t know what could be inside. ...

Part Two Miss Jones knew the number of her removal firm by heart and she happily tapped in the digits for the East London firm whilst humming a Frank Sinatra tune to herself. She was extremey content with the way things had gone so far, and was looking forward to her cruise with great anticipation. “Put me on to Mr Cratchett would you please”, she said as the receptionist answered at the other end. “Ah Cratchett, it’s Miss Jones here. I have a removal job for you. Another one of those international assignments that you do so well. I need you to get a crate and packing materials sorted out and get them down to me by tomorrow afternoon. I will also need you and your unsavoury colleague Jenks to accompany the package and look after its contents throughout the trip. Plan on a Size 14 crate but you will probably need extra packing materials. This particular package is a litle more lively than most you have handled in the past.” ...

A Day in the Rain by Bound Becky 2000 A Day in the Rain by Bound Becky 2000 Sarah and I were having a discussion about bondage one day and we shared our thoughts of ways that we wanted to be tied. After a long talk and some laughs we decided to make our dreams a reality. I was first, which for some reason always seems to work out this way. I�ve always had this fantasy about being tied up outside while it was raining. The thought of being helpless while rain drops splash all over you just seems so exciting to me. I couldn�t wait! ...

Part One My Mistress/Wife, Denise, directed me to relate the events that occurred during O/our Las Vegas / Bondcon weekend. Just a quick update for those of you that haven’t read any of O/our stories. Mistress and Her friend Linda are Corrections Officers at a men’s prison and i received a medical retirement years ago which left U/us fairly well off and allows me to be a 24/7 bondage slave. Both my nipples are pierced in .0 gauge and i have a frenum & Apadravya .00 guage piercing. ...

Be careful who you talk to on line. Jack met Kathy on line. One thing led to another and the met in real life. From the first time Jack met Cathy his life began to take a new twist. Jack had posted an ad on one of the kinky Internet dating sites. He didn’t expect anything to come of it. Jacks ad read; “Submissive male, age 40, 6’ tall, blue eyes and blond hair would like to meet a dominant woman. Main interests are being bound, chastised, tortured and force to to serve in any way the woman wishes. I’m mostly interested in serving on line. I could meet under the right circumstances. ...

Fallenescence by Toran Fallenescence by Toran Amy Lay’s gaze, black with brooding Goth smudges above and below incredibly icy blue eyes, locked with Gwendolyn’s and Gwen couldn’t look away. Front row tickets to Fallenescence were compliments of Gwen’s girl friend, Penelope, and though Gwen had heard of the Goth band, she’d never actually heard them. Amy smirked, pointed a finger at Gwen and screamed something about gagged lips and tears of pain into the microphone as thousands of Fallenites chanted the words in unison. The arena was rocking and Gwen was as caught as caught could be. Amy’s tight leather pants that had spawned spiked boots paraded the Queen of Goth around stage as her black leather clad band danced around her, power chords ripping and rolling over the throngs that pressed Gwen and Penny tighter to the front of the stage. Amy looked back over her shoulder from the far side of the stage and again pointed at Gwen. Gwen shuddered – it seemed that the gothrocker was pointing right at her. For just a second, Gwen wondered what those blood red lips tasted like, what Amy’s full and straining breasts felt like as Gwen tussled with a stiff nipple, whether Amy smelled the same way as she did when things just felt right, when the urgency suddenly felt needed, when the world meant only one thing, only one hunger… ...

We live right next to a golf course, and my husband George is an avid golfer, to the point where he owns his own golf cart, and he can take the cart directly over to the clubhouse at tee time. I don’t like to play golf. I tried it a few times but I am not very good at it, and it just doesn’t excite me. So while my husband plays golf I play with self-bondage. He is usually gone for several hours, which is just about the right length of time for me to be ready to be released when he returns. He always takes advantage of whatever situation I have gotten myself into and makes me suck him or otherwise service him before he releases me, and so we both enjoy my self-bondage. ...

Jenny had been punished by her husband for again not letting him know what she was doing with Mike. Bound, bagged, boxed and entombed by him, Mike and Sue, she was left to contemplate her fate… continued from part three Part 4: Knight to the Rescue My mind drifted as I lay bound in the crate, my body had been tightly bound first with leather cuffs, then rope had been tied around my limbs, followed by leather arm and leg binders. Over this they had placed me into a latex sleep sack, my mouth had been gagged and a leather hood placed over my head. They, I should tell you now, were my husband John, his friend Mike, who you may recall I was rather fond of, and of course there was Sue, soon to be the replacement of my affections with John. Little did I know that she and my husband were having an affair, here I was being punished for fooling around with Mike, but all the time John had been screwing Sue behind my back, talk about two-faced. ...

The metal pony is one of my favourite tortures (see Riding the Metal Pony), balancing on tip toes until my leg muscles tire and I’m lowered onto the metal chain passing between the lips of my sex. A choice between the pain in my calf and the pain deep within me. Never one to rest on my laurels, I had to look for the next challenge; the metal horse. We keep all sorts of rubbish in the garage. Two things had caught my eye. One was a plank, about four feet long, six inches wide and an inch thick. The other was a wooden pole, two inches in diameter and three feet long. I hadn’t realised it was raining until I went outside to get them. The water pooling on the flagstones of the patio was pleasantly cool under my bare feet, the tarmac of the driveway still held the warmth from the previous sunshine. ...

An alternative chapter from the classic book Miss High Heels which involves female domination, severe bondage with rope, silk scarves, bed linen and other laundry items of torment, and a hint of crossdressing. This tale of cross dressing and bondage was inspired by the book Miss High heels, in which a young boy, Evelyn Beryl, so infuriates his governess with his behaviour that she conspires with his aunt and ward and resolves to turn him into a woman. Kidnapped by the pair, he undergoes a period of enforced feminization and bondage before being sent away to a girls school where he is conditioned both mentally and physically to think of himself as a girl. Now a grown young woman called Denise, he returns to his governess Miss Priscilla at the end of his schooling, where she resolves to further her control over him by keeping her as a young lady under her strict discipline……… ...

The Campground by Tieutite There is this camping area that I visited one time for a birthday party that is about 1½ hours from my house. A few months later, I started thinking that the set up of the campground would be great for a self-bondage adventure. It was the perfect campsite. Just out of sight, but kind of visible if you were walking by. I arrived at around 6 o’clock, and the sun was just about setting. I got out the duffel bag I kept all my gear in. I first started with a very tight fitting wetsuit thong. Next comes the black silky bra, and my inserts. I then put on my hot pink mini dress, which is so short, that I use it as my garter belt. I have 10 garters attached on each side so I can feel all the straps pressing against my thighs as I walk. I then strap on my Ice Blue corset and lace it all the way closed. I put on a brand new pair of Lycra thigh high stockings that are very supportive and are somewhat tight on my legs. I attach all the garters to the stockings and make sure they are straight. After I finish this, ...

Thanks to everyone who E-mailed me with their very kind comments about the first three parts of this story, it really made me feel good reading them! Here is the final part of the story. Be forewarned that this story contains some death (unseen, but implied). I do not advocate violence against women in any form. Remember that this is a fantasy story, not a real story. Please E-mail with any thoughts you have about the story. ...

Nadia had been trying out new ways to excite herself, she had found a great web site on time-release self-bondage, one of the simplest but most effective forms she found was freezing keys in ice. Through varying the amount of ice the key was frozen in, temperature of the ice and the environments temperature the ice would take longer or shorter to thaw out. Nadia lives on the second floor of a four story high tenement flat, sharing with one other girl but she was away for the weekend. On her own this was when her thoughts often turned to self-bondage. ...

Revolt Of The Slave by Gao Chukman Revolt Of The Slave by Gao Chukman As I sit here at the desk in my study on a beautiful Saturday morning, my wife Sally is in the guest bedroom with her old school friend Leah. They are lying on the bed and both of them have their arms handcuffed behind their backs. They are wearing silk kimonos which are open at the front and there is a strong rubber strap round their waists binding them tightly front to front. There are also pairs of nipple clamps linking them quite closely at the breast. Their ankles are chained together and to the bottom of the bed but they are not talking to one another because each is wearing a large, red, rubber ball gag. They are probably wriggling a bit because they are also wearing, if that is the right word, a well-lubricated, electrically operated, double dildo set to provide maximum clitoral stimulation at random intervals. They are not blindfolded and, when I last saw them a few minutes ago, their eyes appeared to be spitting fire at me. This is not a phenomenon I have seen before and it has made me wonder whether I shall survive the aftermath of this little joke I have played on them. I have noticed before that women do not always react in the same way as men do to practical jokes. This is illustrated in the definition of a pregnant woman as someone who takes seriously what is poked at her in fun. Anyway, I thought it might be wise to record why I have placed Sally and Leah in this position in case their retaliation gets out of hand. God knows, I have had enough provocation. ...

Part One Sarah Miles was within a week of her 19th birthday and had answered the advertisement for a weekend gardener in the local paper, so that she could get some experience before she went to horticultural college later that year. All her friends from school had taken a long break and gone trekking in Thailand, but Sarah was an only child and had been raised in an orphanage, so she could not afford the several thousand pounds that her friends planned to spend on their half year in Thailand. ...

We live right next to a golf course, and my husband George is an avid golfer, to the point where he owns his own golf cart, and he can take the cart directly over to the clubhouse at tee time. I don’t like to play golf. I tried it a few times but I am not very good at it, and it just doesn’t excite me. So while my husband plays golf I play with self-bondage. He is usually gone for several hours, which is just about the right length of time for me to be ready to be released when he returns. He always takes advantage of whatever situation I have gotten myself into and makes me suck him or otherwise service him before he releases me, and so we both enjoy my self-bondage. ...

Susan’s Game by Sammy4187 Susan’s Game by Sammy4187 I am the original author of this story. Visit my dear friend Sara at boundandgagged.net. Also visit her yahoo club, I might bump into you there My name is Kim and I am 35 years old and live near Lansdale Pennsylvania. I guess you could say that I am a weekend love slave to the most wonderful woman in the world. Her name is Susan. She is 33 years old and petite in build, with long brown hair. The reason I mention her size is that the idea of a smaller woman dominating me, adds to my humiliation and enjoyment. I would like to tell you about an adventure she put me through. It was the most exciting adventure in my life and I enjoyed every minute of it! ...

The Flag Maker by Don Martin The Flag Maker by Don Martin A True Story Of Going For A Social Drink After Work With A Friend And A Meeting With A Girl Who Made Flags. Don Martin It was late on Friday afternoon and I had finished my business in the City so I popped in to see my friend Peter who ran a small design studio in a converted terrace house near Central Railway. “Come on through.” he called out from the back room when he saw me arrive. “Great timing, we’ve just knocked the top off a bottle of Scotch.” ...