Unforgetful Basement Self-Bondage by asianchick2004 Unforgetful Basement Self-Bondage by asianchick2004 Hi I would like to stay anonymous but I’ll tell you a little about me. I am 22 years old, a Korean girl, height 5'1, 32b-22-32 are my measurements and I weigh 105 lbs so I am petite, and I live in southern California. I live alone in my own house so I am pretty well off financially so I can enjoy self bondage whenever I like and not worry about getting caught. I use my basement for my self bondage sessions. ...

continued from part one Part 2: Temp to Perm Julie had enjoyed a productive summer. In fact, the past year had rushed by in a blur which, upon reflection, seemed to consist of her rushing to classes, or staying up until two or three in the morning working on assignments, fuelled by strong coffee (Dark roast, percolated on her stove in a steel coffee pot which produced the sort of thick, strong, rocket fuel essential to late night study.) or beer. After her assignments had been handed in, or she had sat an exam, there would inevitably be a party, several of which she only just remembered, the precise details of which had been eradicated through the excess of beer and dope that accompanied such occasions. ...

(story continues from Working Late) Part Two Julie had enjoyed a productive summer. In fact, the past year had rushed by in a blur which, upon reflection, seemed to consist of her rushing to classes, or staying up until two or three in the morning working on assignments, fuelled by strong coffee (Dark roast, percolated on her stove in a steel coffee pot which produced the sort of thick, strong, rocket fuel essential to late night study.) or beer. After her assignments had been handed in, or she had sat an exam, there would inevitably be a party, several of which she only just remembered, the precise details of which had been eradicated through the excess of beer and dope that accompanied such occasions. ...

She drove the car slowly along the rutted track, keeping in a low gear, wincing occasionally as it jolted and lurched; sitting down with the chastity belt on and the plugs in place was not a comfortable experience, and driving a car even less so. At the end of the track, just short of the canal bank, it widened into a small cleared area, where vehicles could be conveniently turned or parked; she spun the car so that it was facing back towards home, then reversed off onto the parking space. She stopped the engine, and drew a long breath; God, did she really want to do this ? Yes; she did. What if it went wrong ? What if someone saw her ? What if ……. ...

Monica ,who is a pen pal of mine, had been practicing self bondage for a while, and then one day Karen happened to come across her when she was helpless. Both of them being new to bondage had shared a couple of mild experience but were still in the awkward stage. This is the next step in their saga. ***** Monica and Karen sipped on their wine as they discussed the new experience they had shared so far. Since Karen had found Monica tied in the garage (see Helping her into Bondage), they had experimented with some light bondage. Karen still felt awkward about it, but although she was hesitant to even admit it to herself, had been turned on by having Monica under her control. Monica described how she felt when she was bound and how thankful she was to Karen for helping her live her fantasy. Karen confessed that she enjoyed it and wanted to try more. ...

Monica ,who is a pen pal of mine, had been practicing self bondage for a while, and then one day Karen happened to come across her when she was helpless. Both of them being new to bondage had shared a couple of mild experience but were still in the awkward stage. This is the next step in their saga. ***** Monica and Karen sipped on their wine as they discussed the new experience they had shared so far. Since Karen had found Monica tied in the garage (see Helping her into Bondage), they had experimented with some light bondage. Karen still felt awkward about it, but although she was hesitant to even admit it to herself, had been turned on by having Monica under her control. Monica described how she felt when she was bound and how thankful she was to Karen for helping her live her fantasy. Karen confessed that she enjoyed it and wanted to try more. ...

Susan awoke at the sun shining into her bedroom. The sound of nature found it’s way through her window screen. She peeled the sheet from her naked body. Her bare feet touched the hardwood floor as she walked across the bedroom and down the stairs. Her sense of smell was greeted by the freshly brewed coffee courtesy of the remote control coffee pot. She poured herself a cup of coffee and walked outside onto the secluded deck and sat down on a lounge chair. She sipped the coffee and let out a sigh. Her first cigarette of the day found it’s way to her mouth. The sun radiated it’s warm rays on her naked body. She looked at her body and said “Happy 40th birthday you old bag. You still look pretty darn good for an old lady” ...

Part 1: Josephine and the Wishbone Whenever I visit my brother Richard in the West Country he takes me to a theatre/dining club. Yes, I know they’re a long way from London, but they do have night clubs down there. Let me tell you about one Friday when we visited the Erotic Magic Club in Exeter. The first half of the evening’s entertainment was fairly standard stuff. It started with a sort of dance/strip show with all eight girls, then each one had a solo set, so that one did a few extreme backbends and then folded herself into a tiny perspex box, one did a sword swallowing and fire-breathing act and so on – all either nude or in the tiniest, tightest clothing. The first half finished with another ensemble dance piece and then, during the interval, the girls wandered round the audience chatting to the exclusively male clientelle. By this time all the girls were wearing very tight, very short leather shorts and matching high heels and nothing else, the kind of shorts I refer to as Daisy Dukes but which my brother insists on calling Hot Pants. One was in black, one in pink, one in blue and so on, eight identical topless outfits in eight different colours. ...

continued from part 1 Part 2: Accidents will happen I told you about the first time I visited the Erotic Magic Club, yes ? That was on a Friday night. My brother and I had been led up on stage to watch a six-foot blonde with a buzz-cut get tied up and then have her top half squeezed down to nothing. We got a leg each to look after, and had been invited to bring them backstage afterwards to watch her being restored. The girl was called Josephine, and the magician, Jim. The MC, who owned the club, is called Stavro. ...

continued from part 2 Part 3: Bowling Night By now you know all about the Erotic Magic Club. You recall that, after I helped to rescue Suzy from an illusion she was trapped in, her father, who owns the club, invited me to a night out bowling with all the girls. Bowling night was about a month after the rescue, and I’d spent the intervening few weeks sort of dating Josephine, one of the dancers. Therefore, it was Josephine who came to pick me up and show me where it was that we were meeting. ...

continued from part 3 Part 4: Sandy on the Pole Good news – my biggest customer is relocating. A couple of thousand weather forecasters and support staff, and a few cellars full of supercomputers and and communications equipment, are moving to Exeter. This would normally mean I’d be very busy and working long hours a long way from home, but in my case I’ve been looking for an excuse to move to Exeter for a month or two now. ...

continued from part 4 Part 5: Eggs at Easter I thought I was busy in the run up to Christmas, but somehow the approach of Easter was even worse. Work was OK but all the things I seem to have taken up in my spare time since moving here to Exeter just filled up all the space in my diary. On top of this, the thermostat on my central heating had blown up and the house had been roasting since Tuesday. ...

continued from part 5 Part 6: Swapping with Sandy My fiancée – I still can’t get used to calling her that – my fiancée, Josephine, came into the study with that sly smile that she wears when she’s planning something. “What are you doing on Sunday Week?” she asked. I clicked up my diary and scrolled down ten days. “Here we are – May 6th, nothing. Why, what do you have in mind?” ...

continued from part 6 Part 7: Norwegian Wood Jo put down the phone and came in to the kitchen. I looked up at her and she spoke: “Old Eirik is dead.” “Erich?” I said. “He was at the club on Friday. He was fine. What happened?” “No, it’s not Erich, it’s Eirik. Ei-rik.” She pronounced each separate syllable distinctly. “Eirik Lumbermann is my, umm, was my grandfather, my mother’s father. He was a hundred and two last winter.” ...

Xi - Chapter 3 - “Damn You” Poor Battery Bob and his variable speed motor… For several months he had been neglected - collecting dust in a bedside drawer. But that had changed. Burned out batteries lined the bottom of the bedroom wastebasket. For the past three days, much of Xi’s free time had become focused on pleasuring herself. (“Masturbation” is such a blunt word…) Unfortunately, no matter the point of application, the angle, nor the proximity or pressure… Battery Bob could not take Xi to that special place. It’s not that she didn’t want it. (She did!!) It’s not that Xi was inexperienced in the art of self-pleasure. (She had the experience!!) She was just unable to find the means to get over the crest of the wave. The wonderfully awful belt that was locked upon her, so perfect in its sense of duty, kept her from achieving success. And the key to that belt was 383.2 kilometers away locked to the foundation of her mountain cottage. Additional strategies, all tried and true and normally quite successful, were added to her mix of tactics. She experimented with anything she could think of that produced an inkling of arousal. Sexy, see-through lingerie. Black, high-heel shoes with long ties wrapping up her olive calves. A good electronica beat pounding - shaking the bed. Candlelight, rose petals, and an Anna fantasy. An array of other mostly ghostly lovers… Everything made her hot. But everything took her sweating down a road that led nowhere. Even the soft nylon rope that at times anchored her ankles at the corners of the bed (or constricted her waist and isolated her breasts…) now lay where it landed, cast from across the room. Confounded desire! On Wednesday evening, as the last rays of the sun lifted from their perch on the highest clouds, Xi took a pull from a cigarette on her back porch and watched blue smoke rise and disperse into the evening sky. Softly she prayed for Anna - wherever she may be, physical or ethereal - to hear her melancholy longing, to come home once again, to stroke her body like a feather and support her like a firm bed. Why did she have to disappear with no word, no sign? The last time Xi had seen Anna was when she boarded the plane for Rio de Janeiro. Records confirmed that she took her scheduled flight to Manaus two days later… And that was it. Now all Xi had of Anna were her possessions. They were no solace though. They were like weights that she had to drag around. Things that she couldn’t throw away. In fact, she hated them. She hated them all except the necklace with a key, the black collar, and the wonderful belt. Anna’s belt. Anna’s magical, mysterious belt. Her new-old belt with no maker. The belt that now contained and frustrated Xi. The belt that now restricted her access to her own lustful desires. “Damn you! Anna!” Xi blew out her last lung full of acrid, disgusting, tobacco smoke, and smashed the butt into a rainwater-filled plant holder. “Forty-fucking-eight more hours…” The oranges and reds of the evening sky outside the mountain cottage had never been so vivid. After a week of deprivation, she would soon remove the wonderfully torturous belt and quickly tease herself to climax upon the hard commons room floor. A ray of light shone through the cottage window like a spotlight and landed softly on the polished collar lying at the base of, encircling, and locked to the metal pole. Naked below the waist, she approached the pole. She pulled the collar up to her imprisoned sex and held the disk near the faceplate. The secret slot opened and she slid the disk inside to switch the mode to “unlocked”. God! She was on fire. Erotic spasms arced through the interior of her body - her sparse flesh-hair rising from her skin. She pulled the collar’s chain to release the disk from the slot and allow her to proceed to her desire… But the disk did not budge. She looked down at her smoldering, imprisoned crotch, her head feeling faint, her knees beginning to shake. Nothing appeared to be blocking the disk… Nothing seemed to be keeping the disk from sliding free from the belt’s slot… But she could not pull it out! Contrary to logic, the panic washing over her did not extinguish her need. It was more like fuel and her breath flew from within her. She tried to pull away from the pole but the collar’s short chain quickly caught and held her sex close - anchored, only centimeters from the pole. The snap of the chain’s extension sent a jolt of pleasure to her lips and clit. She felt that pleasure expand like ripples on a lake across the surface of her skin. Her eyes closed and a moan slipped through her open mouth. The feeling passed quickly. She looked down again in resurging horror. She was locked to the pole! What was she going to do? She yanked her waist back from the pole again. As before, a shock wave of pleasure pulsated through her soul. Panicked, she pulled back again and again - each time, with the same effect. Soon, however, she was no longer thinking of escape, but instead she was fixated on the physical rapture of each bone-jarring jolt. Holding the pole with her right arm she leaned back. Her eyes closed and mouth agape. Her grasp on the pole faltered, her knees went weak, and she slid slowly to the floor. As she descended the locked collar scraped down the metal pole sending out a piercing cry like a hawk’s scream and a vibration that caused her stomach muscles to contract involuntarily. Once the burning flesh of her buttocks touched the cool, hard floor, she wrapped her legs around the pole and squeezed - bucking her pelvis all the while. She pulled with such desire and passion that the pole seemed to actually sway back and forth. The overhead light rocked in its fixture - brightening and dimming. White flecks of plaster from the ceiling fell, softly, around her sweat-sheened body. In an outburst of pure desire her shirt was torn from her body - her nipples - unveiled, aroused, and erect. On the far wall, a picture of her family fell from its hook and crashed to the ground. Xi did not care, though she watched - seemingly in slow motion - as the wood frame split upon impact and shards of the glass cover rained across the floor. She arched her back as high off the ground as she could - stretching, flexing ...

Going For A Self-Bondage Walk by Leotardguy Going For A Self-Bondage Walk by Leotardguy This is a completely true story. Bondage to me not only felt good but it also could be used as a way of creating the humiliation which I so much craved. (And I haven’t the slightest idea why.) At Halloween I would always find a costume which would mesh the two, most often going as a black cat in leotard and tights, with a collar locked on my neck that also locked the zipper of the leotard. I fondly remember a bunch of girls who were dressed in roller derby costumes who took a look at my collar and exclaimed, “You’re locked in!” I loved it. ...

Our Rack by Bound Becky 2000 Our Rack by Bound Becky 2000 We wanted a rack so why not build one right? The 4 of us got together and drew up some plans and threw out ideas on how to build it. After a few hours of brainstorming and arguing, we had it figured out. There was an old “come along”, at least that’s what I’ve heard it called, in our garage. It has a hook on both ends and a winch so you can hook something to something else and crank the arm of the winch and pull it forward. We took it and cleaned it up nice. We found 3 saw horses in the barn that we could use too. We needed a few 10’ long 2 x 4 pieces of wood and some other hardware so we borrowed Amy’s dad’s truck and headed off to the store. ...

I got home from work almost a hour early so that I could lay out the clothes that I planed on forcing my cunt of a wife to wear for me tonight. Cynthia doesn’t like dressing up one bit, she never has, but she does exactly what I tell her, or I slap the little slut silly. She would be getting home from the airport at about 6:00 p.m. and I wanted everything ready when she walked through the door. ...

It all began on a Friday. Everyone was away for the weekend and I had the house to myself. I had been preparing for this for weeks and the anticipation was growing by the minute. I do really enjoy the feeling of tight restraint, loss of sight, of hearing and speech. Today I would be in self-bondage for about seven hours. I have spent a considerable amount of time and thought in coming up with methods of self-restraint that are inescapable, yet will release me after a time. ...

Surprise Christmas Present by Wanda Surprise Christmas Present by Wanda Comments are welcomed It’s amazing the secrets you can keep from the people that matter most to you. Take me and my boyfriend for example. We had been dating two whole years and he had no idea that I was heavily into bondage. Living in separate houses of course helps keep some privacy. At that time he had his own place and I had my little apartment. I had just graduated college and was working as a nurse. He tried convincing me to move in with him but I told him that my parents would never condone me living with any man other than my husband. ...