Camping on Gromet's Plaza Archive

The Student and the Soldier

Fri, 08 Mar 2019 00:00:00 +0000

story continues from part eight

Chapter 9

Paul told me about his childhood and teenaged years. He spoke of the reason for his career choice. He talked about his former girlfriend, Sophie, and how she’d introduced him to love bondage. He discovered then that he really enjoyed being sexually with a bound woman. I listened quietly, drinking it all in.

Then he asked me to share my life and experiences. I chatted about my childhood and painful teenaged years. I told him about how hard it had been to be the “smart girl” instead of the popular girl. We talked about my college classes and my early introduction to BDSM.

Just the Right Spot 2

Sat, 13 Jan 2018 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from Just the Right Spot)

Chapter 2

The cool night air rushed into their tent as Tracy pushed aside the flaps. She had retied her cousin, now sitting behind her with rope around her ankles and knees as well as binding her wrists and elbows behind her back. The young blonde’s mouth was still covered with duct tape and a rope leash dangled down between her bared breasts.

Tracy gave a tug on the leash, “Come on.”

Steel Straightjacket

Sun, 29 Jan 2017 00:00:00 +0000

Cheryl had spend the last 5 days at Download festival in Derbyshire UK. She had been drinking heavily throughout and had driven her friends mad. She woke up on the Monday morning with a massive hangover and all by her self. She had been left by herself as her friends had had enough of her. She crawled out her tent in just her pants and bra as a feeling of shame and disappointment filled her up. She had damaged most of her stuff over the weekend as she rocked out. She had nothing she needed to take home. Her tent was ripped and water logged and all her stuff was covered in mud. She was sick, tried and all by herself. She would just bring back what she could. She was looking through the ruins of her tent and found almost nothing worth saving. Just some clothes to wear on the way home and the main things she took with her. Like her phone, money and house keys. But she left 99% of the stuff there. Someone would clean it up for her as she headed towards the car parking.

No Littering

Sun, 03 Jul 2016 00:00:00 +0000

WARNING Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy only, to attempt this in real life may result in injury or death.

Marlene wasn’t sure why she had decided to come with three friends and four guys on camping trip. It had not been what she expected at all. No campsite by a pretty lake. Well there was a lake but it was down the trail from the campsite on an island in the middle of a bog where a slow spring fed stream meandered down to the lake. Totally isolated and when the light breeze blew there was a foul stink of rot from the bog.

No Littering

Sun, 03 Jul 2016 00:00:00 +0000

Heather in the Highlands

Thu, 12 Mar 2015 00:00:00 +0000

Part 1. Heather McCreadie sighed as the ruined castle loomed closer. This unexpected storm had thwarted her plans for a good walk today and it was raining hard enough that she’d decided to take shelter and ride it out. Coming inside and dumping her rucksack by the door. Obviously she was alone, thirty miles north west of Inverness on a long walk to Ullapool. But now she needed to let the mountain rescue people in the closest town know she was safely in cover. A check on her map for the co-ordinates of Claggan Castle and she sent the text and her intentions to stay here overnight. She had a week’s worth of food; full water bottles topped up an hour ago, a tent and so on. Her phone bleeped and she read the kind acknowledgement from that hunk ‘Geoff’ whom she’d spoken to when sorting her route and contact times. If only he’d been single she sighed, having remembered the wedding ring on his finger. Shutting off the phone to save the batteries though she did have spares too. Despite the rain it was warm enough for her to strip to shirt and shorts, August can be cooler but not this year, with records tumbling every month it appeared. But at least with the storm it kept the midges away and she quickly doused herself in ‘Off’ in case any of the buggers had also taken shelter and wanted to torment a tourist while the clouds passed by. She replaced her walking boots with the light canvas sneakers and decided to explore. Claggan Castle was a disappointment as she went from room to room on the upper floor, sheltering in doorways as the roof had long ago fallen in. So she returned to the ground floor and had a drink before attempting the staircase into the darkness below. Torchlight showed there was little here, every room was just a dusty space, the rough stone flooring thankfully dry and she wondered whether to sleep in one tonight. There was no draught so why not? One of the last two rooms on this floor was examined, there was another staircase that led below but no way was she going down again, also it seemed to have a hatch partway down. This chamber had tiny gaps in the walls where daylight shone through as she remembered the castle was built on a slope just below the summit of the hill. So despite being one floor down from the main hall there was still illumination on this side and the girl marvelled at the design. Also it was thankfully away from the wind. Heather gasped on seeing a few old manacles hanging from chains at various places, more on the floor about two feet apart underneath each of the upper sets. “Well I never,” she gasped gently kicking one with her shoe, the faint ‘clink’ of chain making her shudder. She’d never tried ‘bondage’ herself but didn’t mind reading about it on sites. She was becoming an avid reader of these now and hoped the girls she lived with in Ft William wouldn’t find out. But no way had she allowed anyone to actually tie her up. Mainly because she’d been too embarrassed to ask either of the guys she’d dated in the past. Her hands reached up to one of the loops and gave it a prod, seeing it swing slightly under her touch. Then she tried to ease the thing apart but no surprise it was jammed. Well having been like this for a couple of centuries she’d hardly have expected less. Out of curiosity she tried all the lower ones, amazed on actually getting two of them to open. Her heart hammered as she pushed one closed again, the metal snapping shut but thankfully Heather did not have her fingers in the way. So now she reached for the higher ones, but only got one to move a little until she tried the last pair, ironically above the only floor ones that still worked. Heather’s eyes widened as she, with difficulty and a lot of effort had both of the manacles open, then snapping shut again and it made her tremble inside. She reached up and held both at the same time but didn’t dare close them round her limbs. But still imagined herself helplessly chained to the wall waiting to be…well whatever people had done in old times. Tonight’s’ session in her sleeping bag was going to be interesting. Miss McCreadie left the room and went into the last, pleased there was natural light here too, but she was surprised to see this one had an old casket set into a recess next to the fireplace. The other rooms had the same but this was the first to have been occupied. She paused then decided this had to be examined and with a lot of effort dragged the box out into the middle. A latch was eased aside and she flipped the lid up, managing not to choke as a cloud of dust came off the top. The casket was half-full of greyish material and Heather wondered whether…yes. She lifted up the first one and discovered it appeared to be the remains of some sort of robe or dress. Quite heavy material and a little smelly of course, in bad condition but not surprising considering how long it’d lain there. Miss McCreadie held it against herself, the hem just skimming the floor. Laying it to one side her torch showed there to be a couple more and these too were examined by torchlight. The last appeared to have a pattern on it and was of a higher quality fabric and considerably better condition than the other two. It thankfully didn’t smell either, though it was a lot heavier thanks to having an inner skirt. She smiled and carried the robe out of the room and back to where her rucksack was. The light here much better, Heather impressed at the find, laying it out on her camping mat. A simple stylised black cross was the main motif on the dark grey bodice, more black trim around the edges of the collar, cuffs and the hem itself and Heather wondered what it had symbolised. Again wishing she’d listened to her teachers more at school. But something about this made her pause and wonder… Would it fit her? Surely women in the 1800’s were of smaller stature and build, but Heather wasn’t exactly Amazonian. She’d been one of the smaller girls at school so was normally not picked for any of the sporting teams unless the skippers’ were desperate, instead preferring the individual athletic events. Miss McCreadie stripped naked then reached for the robe. It had hooks and eyes up the back, at least two dozen and Heather groaned, knowing she’d not be able to do them all up. A few would surely do so nervously she stepped into the heavy dress and drew it up around her waist. Impressed that her hips did indeed go in, so she carried on. Easing first one, then the other arm into the sleeves, then raising the front to cover her breasts. It was a little rough against her skin but she didn’t care. Heather was delighted as she got the top hooks secured behind her neck and a couple below that too. Reaching down behind her back then tried to get a few more from her waist upwards. Heather was so flexible and carried on till she was amazed to get them all done. It could have been made for her and the lass was thrilled. A pause to set her camera on the casket lid and snap a few photos on the timer. Posing for her lens then checking the screen and it looked great. She wandered about, the dress doing it’s best to trip her up, as Heather had never worn anything like this before but persevered. Moving her rucksack downstairs into one of the other rooms where it was dark but quite warm. Looking outside it was raining just as hard but as she didn’t intend changing plans Heather could remain here and…play? Heather McCreadie walked back into the room where the manacles were. Wondering if she had the courage to try one on. Standing up against the wall and reaching up till she held one in her right hand then shuffled across and grabbed the other. The effect was amazing and she knew it had to be done. She got them both opened then let one go and nervously placed her wrist in the other. Pausing a long while then easing it…SNAP. She gasped as it gripped her limb, the lassie almost fainting on the spot, realising that she’d actually manacled herself to the wall! Standing there for a while then getting the thing open again and freeing her wrist. Sighing as the strain on her shoulder was reduced. Heather shuddered then looked down at her feet, seeing the other cuffs either side of her. Another intake of breath then she bent down and did her left ankle. A pause and she opened her legs as far as the dress would allow then just managed to get the other one secured. Leaning against the wall Miss McCreadie looked above, seeing the manacles either side and smiled. “Well you got this far,” and reached up and grabbed both with some difficulty, as they seemed higher up. Then she realised that with her legs apart it was her that was lower. But she still managed to get her wrists inside with fingers now gripping the fronts. Tapping them lightly against the walls but the cuffs wouldn’t close. So she paused then did it much harder and this time it worked fine. The two manacles snapped around her wrists and she gasped again. The feelings were incredible and Heather closed her eyes at what she’d just done. Now chained by ALL FOUR limbs to a remote castle wall! Heather began to moan, imagining hands running over her dress, fingers reaching for her breasts, sighing as someone began to play with her nipples that were now straining against the bodice. Tremors rushed through her body and more hands began to lift her robe up! Her eyes snapped open at that and she looked down, but of course there was nobody here… However her dress WAS moving of its’ own accord! Now bunching to around her waist and Heather squealed in shock… only for an invisible hand to clamp itself over her mouth, holding her firmly as she naturally began to struggle. More fingers running over her legs… all heading north and Miss McCreadie bucked violently against the wall as she felt one begin to slide into where it matters most. She tugged hard on the cuffs; her hands straining against the cold metal and at one point she thought one was about to give way. But the invisible fingers began to run in and out and she shuddered, flushing too on feeling herself start to get wet! Just when Heather was thinking she’d get to orgasm the fingers withdrew, her dress flopped down and she was left groaning in disappointment! What a tease her imagination had been to her and a smiling Miss McCreadie relaxed in her bonds, trying to tug one wrist free without hurting too much. Trouble being the last time she’d really had to strain with both hands to get one open. Now with her wrists a couple of feet apart and no way of closing the gap because of her legs like that, it started to dawn on Heather that maybe she had a problem here and really was stuck! The thought terrified her, but the shame of getting herself into this was equally damaging and Heather tugged harder on the cuffs now. Really digging painfully into her hands now, then she squealed as one suddenly snapped open, almost throwing her off balance. She paused, breathing heavily and sighed, reaching up and after a few minutes of straining the other flicked open too. Heather almost sobbed with relief; cursing herself for stupidity and having got her breath back bent down to start… Miss McCreadie screamed when the invisible hands grabbed her arms and torso, pushing her back hard against the wall, wrists being slapped into the cuffs again and them snapping around. Her face held firm. Muffling the wails as her dress began to rise and once round the waist she felt something entering …and this time it definitely wasn’t a finger! Easing itself into her and of a size that normally she’d have appreciated seeing the hunk that possesses it… but NOT now despite what she’d thought earlier. It began… in and out, really working her over, and though she tried to resist her body couldn’t take that much of this. Heather began groaning again as the rhythm increased and she started moving to match it, gripping as best she could until the inevitable happened. Crashing over her like a wave and Heather screamed into the hand holding her jaw before passing out. Coming to later on Heather groaned as the headache surged through her. Lying in her sleeping bag, two ‘nightlight’ candles burning on the floor nearby. THAT made her sit up and after popping some painkillers with water Miss McCreadie flicked on the torch. Seeing her rucksack where she’d left it and that was baffling, as somehow she’d changed rooms too, as there were no manacles in here. Heather wriggled out of her bag, using the torch to examine her wrists and ankles. Stunned to see no signs of bruising at all. The way she’d tugged her arms there surely should be some marks…but no. Also she was dressed in normal 21st century clothing with no sign of that dress. So had she dreamt the whole thing up? But it was a little chilly now so Heather got back into her bag and minutes later dozed off again. Up bright and early next morning Heather McCreadie cooked herself breakfast on the little stove then packed it away. A last look round and no surprise found herself back in the dungeon, though she still did not intend to go downstairs to the next level because of the blockage. Those cuffs hung there and she shuddered, wondering whether to try… “No chance!” she grinned and turned away. Peeking next door she saw the box where the dress had come from, in the recess as expected. A closer look and it appeared as if it’d never been touched, a faint layer of dust on top. Having sent her planning text Heather departed Claggan Castle, her mind churning at the thought of those cuffs and that dress. Why she couldn’t shake it off she didn’t know. Perhaps rather than reading a story she ought to write one and contribute it! All that day as she tramped across the countryside Heather could almost hear the clank of chains in time with her footsteps! At one point convinced she heard horses thundering past, their riders urging the animals onward. So she was mightily relieved to get to the village at Braemore, the place where she’d rejoin the A835 to Ullapool. Her farmhouse bed and breakfast a hundred yards short of the road itself where traffic was hurrying to get to the port before the last boat left. A footpath followed this course but half a mile parallel, so she’d do the last 11 miles in peace before her ferry left at 3pm on Monday, the girl having decided to do a circular walk tomorrow and stay here again if there was room. Checking in with the farmer’s wife, June showing Heather to her room then offering tea and some rather delicious cakes which the girl found hard to resist after a strenuous day’s trekking. The owner himself, Kelvin joining the pair later on, saying their son, James would be home from the market soon but would not be meeting up with them yet. The tractor had a flat tyre so he’d need to repair it before nightfall. Miss McCreadie was able to get some washing done in the sink, having a dig into the top of her rucksack where dirties were kept separate from the rest. They chatted on while the girl did her stuff, pleased that the visitor wasn’t one of those that just stayed in their room rather than interact with them. Also the room was available for the two days and Kelvin suggested a walking route that could easily be done in a few hours. Checking Heather’s map and seeing the girl had the newest version that had only been out a couple of weeks. “Nice to see some youngsters know what they’re doing. City kids have no idea!” he grumbled. The girl smiling as she cleaned one of her pairs of boots, rewaxing them at the same time. June impressed the slightly built Heather was able to carry such a load as she held the bag briefly. The youngster explaining, “My father was a Regimental Sergeant Major in the Paras’ he used to carry eighty pound packs all the time. When I went trekking with him, he always trained me to ‘earn your keep young missy. Don’t carry what ye dinna want!” he’d say as we’d set off for another fifty plus mile weekend. But they kept me fit I can tell you and my current trips still do. No need to pay silly prices to go to a gym.” A wistful smile at the old man and her mum, sadly two years gone now, she missed them so badly. The elders nodded Kelvin now knowing why she was so well prepared. Heather found the phone signal here was poor so used their landline to call Dornoch to let them know she was safely off the high moors, then a second to Stornoway, to her friend Mary, the lass she was visiting on Monday. However she found out from Mary’s mum that the girl was going down with a bad cold and would be unlikely to want to go hiking later on. She’d call Heather at the farm tomorrow and let her know whether to come over. “OK, thanks for the advice, bye.” June commiserated with her when Heather said a call might be for her Sunday evening. Miss McCreadie pleased that at least she hadn’t paid for the ferry tickets yet. “I’ll do the circular walk tomorrow, stop here with you then we’ll see.” They thought that good advice and Kelvin suggested a few paths around Ullapool that Heather could do if she got stuck there. Once tea was cleared away she finished the washing and hung it up, leaving the kitchen and wandered about the farm, seeing a jeep arriving and what could only be described as ‘Young farmer HUNK!’ emerging from the battered old vehicle. Coming over to see whom this pretty blonde thing was leaning against a wall with a small camera snapping the scenery nearby. Greeting her cautiously, because his hands were covered in muck as he apologised, his eyes roaming over the rather tight T-shirt and shorts displayed there. Not a voluptuous figure but more athletic than he’d seen for a while, Athena tennis poster girl maybe. However that face was easily stored away in the memory box as one of the better ones to have stayed recently. Even more of a smile on later finding out she’d be here all day tomorrow too! Heather couldn’t help blushing then told him the good news about the tractor, surprising the lad on an offer to assist if he wanted? “Nothing else to do so why not. I can handle a spanner thanks.” Well… another chance to closely eye up that body was easily going to be accepted and they headed for the barn. It took them two hours to get the wheel sorted and do some other stuff, seeing Heather appeared happy to help doing whatever was needed. She just seemed to be one of those kind people rarely seen these days. Both got thoroughly dirty but laughed about it, high fiving the other as June called the pair in for supper. James and Heather quickly rushing through showers and at least the farm had plenty of hot water for them both!

I, Masochist - Chapter 2: Abigail

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from I, Masochist - Chapter 1: Performance Art)

Chapter 2: Abigail

Chapter two of eight is W’s interview with “Abigail.”.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

I still wasn’t sure how I suddenly became a researcher for a sex therapist studying masochism, but two weeks later, I was back at Shelly’s apartment for the first of six interviews. Despite the fact that Dr Collins was a total asshole, I had agreed to meet with Shelly’s models and write up their stories, or at least write up the answers to their interviews. I think a lot of that decision had to do with the fact that after a night of fantastic sex following the party, Shelly batted her eyes at me again and asked, “So, will you do it? Will you help that old pervert figure out why we girls are like we are?”

Just the Right Spot

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Chapter 1

“This is just the right spot,” Autumn thought to herself as she settled in her tent and reflected. The campsite was beautiful, just as Rodger had said it would be. The site was a small meadow-like clearing nestled amongst pine trees and aspens. A nearby creek gurgled its way past, giving them cold snowmelt water. A fire pit had already been dug and an old fallen pine provided some wonderful seating. The only thing that would have made it more perfect was if Rodger had come along.