<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Con on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/con/</link><description>Recent content in Con on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sat, 30 May 2026 20:13:48 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/con/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Canvas of Stars</title><link>/stories/2012/08/11/canvas-of-stars/</link><pubDate>Sat, 11 Aug 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/08/11/canvas-of-stars/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“Such a beautiful canvas of stars” She said, her head tilted back as far as it could go in the folding camp chair. He murmured his agreement, looking not at the stars, but at her. He was glad to be here and she was equally glad to have him. The fact was, he was hers. That is what suited them both best. Nights like these are when they really felt alive. A cool drink, a warm, comfortable fire, the music of the night creatures, solitude and each other, it really didn’t get better than this.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Parts</title><link>/stories/2011/11/28/parts/</link><pubDate>Mon, 28 Nov 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/11/28/parts/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Kimberly waited all day for her Owner to come home. When she heard the keys jingle in the lock downstairs she wanted to jump up, race down, and meet him at the door, but she knew he wouldn&amp;rsquo;t like that, so instead she stayed on the bed, in the dark, waiting.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She heard him moving around downstairs. She heard the groan of the pipes as he turned on the water. She heard his voice, muted through the walls, as he made a phone call. Her pulse raced and she trembled all over. When was he going to come upstairs? She hoped it would be soon.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Working in the Food Factory</title><link>/stories/2008/10/05/working-in-the-food-factory/</link><pubDate>Sun, 05 Oct 2008 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2008/10/05/working-in-the-food-factory/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;My fascination with being buried, unable to move under hundreds of stuffed garbage bags had been with me all my life, and like the others out there that I had seen online, I had often tried to stage these scenarios at home using big tough bags, tape and rope. More often than not, this turned out to be a big disappointment, but I knew that one day, I could find a way to safely make this fantasy come true.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Things You Do For A Story</title><link>/stories/2007/03/22/things-you-do-for-a-story/</link><pubDate>Thu, 22 Mar 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/03/22/things-you-do-for-a-story/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Ah, the things you will do to write a story. All I was trying to do was finish up part two of the story “&lt;a href="surprise_package.html"&gt;Surprise Package&lt;/a&gt;”. I ended up with an adventure I had to write about instead. I just wish I had pictures to go along with it. Maybe I will do it all over again and get some pictures._&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;I got up this morning and with everyone else in the house gone, I figured it would be a great time to dress to the hilt and finish up part two of the story. So off I went, shaved all over, put some makeup on, and slipped into this purple top and brown skirt. Of course you can’t forget about the nylons, shoes, fixing the hair and then just a touch of perfume! As always I was in heaven.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>A Massage &amp; More</title><link>/stories/2007/02/27/a-massage-more/</link><pubDate>Tue, 27 Feb 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/02/27/a-massage-more/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;A few years ago, I wrote about my uneventful visit to
a local dungeon.  I had been thinking aabout a return
and waiting for the right time, which included wife
out of town and nice weather.  It finally arrived, but
with a different destination.  Now we had a new place
which featured both massage and domination, so why not
give that a try.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The first thing I did was to put a chastity cage on my
private parts, a cb-3000.  (I like to wear this when
the wife is not home; she doesn&amp;rsquo;t know about it.)
Before I snapped the lock, I put a one-inch ring thru
the hasp.  Then I put on a spandex unitard - - which
the wife also does not know about - - and locked the
zipper in back to the collar I added; the collar had a
separate locking buckle and leash loop.  I put a small
combination luggage lock through the hasp and a
regular small padlock joining the zipper tab and the
leash loop.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Prolonging the Feeling</title><link>/stories/2007/02/27/prolonging-the-feeling/</link><pubDate>Tue, 27 Feb 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/02/27/prolonging-the-feeling/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;In the hurried sexcapades of youth, during those back seat flings and the quickies of youth, because Mom and Dad might show up at any time. I was left with a very serious problem. My problems was that of premature ejection. I wasn&amp;rsquo;t able to hold back, more then two or three minutes. I would loose my self control, and shoot my load. If my lady enjoyed playing for a while first I would always explode in her hand and be unable to get another hardon for her to enjoy. This became a problem as the years passed by.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Bondage Barbie 19</title><link>/stories/2006/10/17/bondage-barbie-19/</link><pubDate>Tue, 17 Oct 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/10/17/bondage-barbie-19/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="bondage_barbie18.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bondage Barbie 18&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 19 – Just Hanging Around!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Beth and I were both working on Dawn dressed in clinging black leather cat suits and high-heeled boots.  We were uncertain whether the idea we had for the girl was practical or, in fact, even possible but time would tell.  A ball gag and head harness had kept our subject quiet as we laced each arm into tight gloves and then heavy cone shaped leather mitts with a ring at the fingertips.  The mitts had additional straps at the wrist and elbow.  She was positioned on the playroom floor with the finger rings snapped to floor hooks on either side of her thighs&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Riding the Metal Horse</title><link>/stories/2004/12/20/riding-the-metal-horse/</link><pubDate>Mon, 20 Dec 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/12/20/riding-the-metal-horse/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The metal pony is one of my favourite tortures (see &lt;a href="riding_the_metal_pony.html"&gt;Riding the Metal Pony&lt;/a&gt;), 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.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;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.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Caught and Enslaved</title><link>/stories/2004/07/16/caught-and-enslaved/</link><pubDate>Fri, 16 Jul 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/07/16/caught-and-enslaved/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;In order to view this story, readers must be of legal age in the area
where they reside.  If stories of explicit sex and bondage offend
you, go elsewhere.  You have been warned.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;This is my tale of self bondage and the results of it.  My name
is Ben.  I have been happily married to my wife for 6 years. 
I am 30 and by wife Anne is 28.  I am still not too hard on the eyes. 
My wife is still knockout gorgeous.  I am a little over 6 feet 3 inches
tall semi bald, blond hair blue eyes and in shape.  I work out at
the gym 4 days a week with both weights and aerobic exercises.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>One Hot Session</title><link>/stories/2004/04/30/one-hot-session/</link><pubDate>Fri, 30 Apr 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/04/30/one-hot-session/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;One Hot Session&lt;/strong&gt;
by Otto Dix
One Hot Session by Otto Dix
 
Dear Mistress E.
 
Last night I did what you had instructed me to do.  It felt like
I had a cannonball in the pit of my stomach as I made my way upstairs to
my bedroom with the necessary equipment in hand.  The ice-cube release
mechanism was already started.  Two cubes were used so as to give
sufficient time for completing the self-bondage, and suffering.  I
collected the gear from the attached garage, which was quite cold, and
seeing how I was wearing only a pair of nylons, I was anxious to return
to my warm bedroom.  In my hands, I carried chains, rope, locks, and
…. one bottle of Tabasco sauce.
 
I placed the small red bottle on the nightstand and placed the chains
and rope on the bed, neatly beside the other implements I would be using,
one pair of handcuffs, a stainless steel shackle, and three very small
cock rings.
 
My nylons had a reinforced opening in front which exposed my cock and
balls.  It’s an alteration I did myself.  There is nothing more
erotic for me than the image of silky, uniform, black nylon clad legs,
tightly and neatly bound.  I would much rather be looking at those
of a willing damsel, but at times I have to be satisfied with looking at
my own.  I also enjoy the feel of them, especially the rope binding
against the nylon fabric.  It’s not uncommon for me to tie up my wife. 
We keep a pair of stay-ups in our goody bag along with a scarf and cuffs. 
I usually start with cuffing her hands to the top of the bed.  I take
my time, running my hands down her body once her hands are secured, and
she is properly blindfolded.  I stroke her legs and lightly trail
my fingers over her mound as she pushes her pelvis upward, hoping for some
manual stimulation of her lips and clit.  But all she gets is light
teasing touch, and I can see her lips parting and her moisture level rising. 
“Soon enough” I say, “soon enough”.
 
I take a pillow and place it beside her hips.  She instinctively
knows what to do.  She places both feet firmly on the bed, and raises
her hips and I slip the pillow under her beautiful bare ass.  With
her ass raised, it gives me good access to her soaking wet pit of quivering
flesh.  I can suck and lick and drink her in and occasionally penetrate
her deeply with a finger or two just when she needs it to send her over
the edge.
 
But before she gets some sugar, she needs to pay the price.  I’m
not tying her up because she likes it (although it certainly seems to make
wetter than usual).  I’m tying her up because I want her tied up. 
While preparing for an evening of sex, I’ll tell to put the stay-ups on,
and she’ll know what comes next.  I take my time running my hands
up and down her body, trailing a bathrobe sash cord over her from her neck,
around her breasts, over her lips, and down her leg.  When I’m done
touching her, I take one ankle firmly in hand, and place it in the middle
of the bed, with her knee bent outward. Then I take the other, and cross
one ankle over the other.  Methodically, I wrap her ankles with the
soft cord, alternating in both horizontal and vertical wraps, and finish
with a cinch to tighten it up and ensure that her ankle bones are not pressed
up against each other.  Before getting down to business, I usually
spend about 15 to 20 minutes putting dabs of cool vanilla pudding in strategic
positions, and licking them off with ample sucking.  However, I never
put pudding between her lower lips.  Besides for a variety of health
related reasons, it just wouldn’t be right to be licking her there so soon
into the session.
 
When I am finally ready, I lift her bound ankles, and crawl head first
up to your waiting and eager hips, and lay her calves on my back. 
In this position, she does not need to position or support her legs at
all.  She can just relax and let go, let go of everything else and
absorb the long awaited devouring of her sweet fruit of passion. 
I take it slow as though I am making a good meal last, a nibble there,
and nibble here.  There is no sense in rushing in until she’s good
and ready to be flung forcibly over the edge of ecstasy.  Her mouth
opens and she begins breathing rapidly in shallow breaths.  This is
her “tell”.  This is how I know she is ready.  I concentrate
on her clit with slow and gentle up and down strokes like a paint brush,
pausing slightly between strokes.  As she starts moaning, I plunge
a finger deep into her and speed up the licking.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Unforgetful Basement Self-Bondage</title><link>/stories/2004/04/20/unforgetful-basement-self-bondage/</link><pubDate>Tue, 20 Apr 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/04/20/unforgetful-basement-self-bondage/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Unforgetful Basement
Self-Bondage&lt;/strong&gt;
by asianchick2004
Unforgetful Basement Self-Bondage by asianchick2004&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;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.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Going For A Self-Bondage Walk</title><link>/stories/2004/03/30/going-for-a-self-bondage-walk/</link><pubDate>Tue, 30 Mar 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/03/30/going-for-a-self-bondage-walk/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Going For A Self-Bondage
Walk&lt;/strong&gt;
by Leotardguy
Going For A Self-Bondage Walk by Leotardguy&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;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&amp;rsquo;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,
&amp;ldquo;You&amp;rsquo;re locked in!&amp;rdquo; I loved it.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Selfbondage Story</title><link>/stories/2004/03/30/selfbondage-story/</link><pubDate>Tue, 30 Mar 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/03/30/selfbondage-story/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;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.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Almost Caught</title><link>/stories/2004/03/20/almost-caught/</link><pubDate>Sat, 20 Mar 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/03/20/almost-caught/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;A True Story&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Something triggered my interest in bondage around eighth grade. I’ve
thought about it many times but I cannot narrow it any better than to &amp;ldquo;something&amp;rdquo;.
I do recall playing tie-up and escape with my best buddy and that meant
grammar school as we went our separate ways for high school (we would each
other and see if we could escape: he never escaped from my tying and I
never failed to escape his). Anyway, by the next grade, high school, I
was into bondage, but totally self. And I was ashamed for bondage always
seemed to result in ejaculation and I knew masturbation was a serious sin.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>My Wife Won’t Do It</title><link>/stories/2004/03/20/my-wife-wont-do-it/</link><pubDate>Sat, 20 Mar 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/03/20/my-wife-wont-do-it/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Wife Won’t
Do It&lt;/strong&gt;
by Seahawk
My wife won’t do it by Seahawk&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My wife won’t do it. That is why there is a pile of half-inch chain
lying on the bathroom floor. With a dozen padlocks.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My wife won’t give me the release that I crave, so I have to make a
lone journey of exploration into unknown and forbidden desire and fantasy.
For whilst our relationship is close, her heart is not really into bondage
games and the effort it takes.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Caught in Selfbondage</title><link>/stories/2004/03/10/caught-in-selfbondage/</link><pubDate>Wed, 10 Mar 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/03/10/caught-in-selfbondage/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Hi to all self bondage enthusiasts, here is my once and only time I
was caught during a self bondage session of mine. Let me introduce myself
first before I start, I am 24 now, I am 5’6” 137lbs, shoulder length brown
highlighted hair, green eyes, lovely legs, shaved, 34b-24-34, nicely toned
body with average looks. I always have been excited/turned on seeing a
girl tied up on TV or during a movie, so I tried it my very first time
when I was about 15 years old. I loved it and couldn’t get enough of tying
myself up, each time became better and better more exciting and wanted
to be pleased and couldn’t wait until the next time I tied myself up and
always thinking of new ways to tie/tease myself or tie myself up to and
masturbate in one wild orgasm. Once I was old enough and online I learned
so much about self tying and amazed at how many people other then I done
this type of play. I always thought that I was alone in this style of play.
And always had to be careful around my parents so they wouldn’t discover
my self bondage items that I hid very well, and especially them finding
me in a self bondage session.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Trapped &amp; Ready for Torment</title><link>/stories/2004/03/10/trapped-ready-for-torment/</link><pubDate>Wed, 10 Mar 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/03/10/trapped-ready-for-torment/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Trapped &amp;amp;
Ready for Torment&lt;/strong&gt;
by Leotardguy
Trapped &amp;amp; Ready for Torment by Leotardguy
 
My fetish is a little different from others.  It started when
my sister was in dance classes and I used to sneak into her room and put
on her leotard and tights when I was home alone.  I loved the snug
feel of the material on my skin!  I was ten at the time.  Good
thing I had not reached puberty or I would have had a problem, as you will
see from my future history.
 
When I was in college, I told my girlfriend Susan how great she looked
in her exercise outfit when she came over one time en route to an exercise
class.  I told her my secret but only in the briefest detail to make
her think it was a youthful fetish.  She suggested that I could stand
to shed  a few pounds and that I join her in the class.  I agreed
that I would start the following week.
 
I showed up for class in shorts and t-shirt and was informed by the
instructor that the correct, and only, clothing for the class was a leotard
and tights; I could see that all the others were dressed that way, in a
variety of styles and colors.
 
Knowing that my mindset was already in that direction, even though
I had not worn a leotard and tights for a few years - - ever since I grew
more than my older sister and could no longer wear hers - - my girlfriend
offered to take me shopping.  We selected a pair of black tights and
a red tank leotard; she had me model them in front of the sales clerk who
commented how good I looked in them.
 
One problem was to get my crotch down to the smallest possible size,
since it was out in the open.  I tried a jockstrap but that bunched
it all up.  I am not well hung but this made it look like I was. 
Susan suggested a pair of dance trunks and that seemed to minimize things. 
But when I showed up for my first class dressed that way, the other women
in the class also told me how sexy I looked.  Sexy?  Well, I
couldn&amp;rsquo;t do any more to &amp;ldquo;slim down&amp;rdquo; my crotch.
 
The dance trunks and top layer did keep things in place so there was
no bouncing when I did jumping exercises.  The workout did me in,
and when we went back to Susan&amp;rsquo;s apartment, I fell asleep on her couch
in my leotard and tights.  I suddenly awoke to find her stroking the
bottom of my balls, and - - you guessed it - - I lost control.  She
laughed but not too much.
 
After many weeks in the class - - and another trip to the dance store
for different outfits - - Susan told me that she could not go to the class
that night because she had to fly to California to be near her mother,
who had just suffered a stroke.  She handed me a new outfit and told
me to put it on - - royal blue tights and a black turtleneck leotard. 
When she was finished zipping me up, I felt her fiddling with the collar
and then heard a click. I reached back and found there was a band of leather
sewn into the collar of the leotard.  One end had a small post which
went through the other half of the collar, then through the tab on the
leotard&amp;rsquo;s zipper, and locked with small padlock.
 
&amp;ldquo;Why did you do that?&amp;rdquo;
 
&amp;ldquo;To protect you from the women in the class.  Haven&amp;rsquo;t you seen
how they oogle you?  I won&amp;rsquo;t be here when you get back but I will
leave the key for you.  And I&amp;rsquo;ll call when I get to California.&amp;rdquo;
 
Well, Susan was right.  When the women in the class saw that she
was not there, they paid lots of attention to me.  Several suggested
that I could go home with them that night.  Then one of them behind
me saw the padlock!  She checked it and announced to the others that
I was locked into my leotard and tights.  The class started and all
I wanted to do was duck out the back door, but that was not possible.
 
After the class, they again surrounded me and one of them announced
to me, &amp;ldquo;I&amp;rsquo;ve always wanted to touch that nice crotch buried in there.&amp;rdquo;
 
I tried to stop her but the others held my arms.  She stroked
my erotic spot, under the balls, and my cock immediately got hard and spit
up.  No way to hide that!  They laughed and teased me, and I
ran for the door.  I would never be going back there!
 
When Susan called, I told her she was right about the women in the
class but I didn&amp;rsquo;t tell her what had happened.  But I did admit to
her that I got excited when she clicked that padlock and I realized my
situation.  She promised that she would do it more often, and not
just for exercise class; I told her I was never going back to that bunch
of harpies again.  As it turned out, this was the last time I talked
to her - - she was killed in an automobile accident while rushing her mother
to the hospital.
 
I didn&amp;rsquo;t have Susan any longer but I did have the locking leotard. 
But that wasn&amp;rsquo;t really secure; I could easily pull up the leg elastic of
the leotard, pull down the waistband of the tights, and take a piss. 
Then I found the next level of security - - dance trunks, biketard, tights,
leotard.  But I wanted more, something which would hide the inevitable
cum stains.  Then I discovered latex briefs; not only did they hide
the stains but once they are on and the body sweats a little, they have
to be peeled off - - impossible when there are clothes on top of it. 
From there I graduated one more step, latex briefs with molded butt-plug. 
And then to the final step, a turtleneck unitard.  Now there was no
opening at all at the crotch. Absolute security!
 
So what do I do?  I put it all on and go shopping, leaving the
key at home. I get a haircut, and the female barber always has to ask about
the padlock she sees when she puts on the cloth to cover me.  I have
gone out of town, several hours&amp;rsquo; drive away, and before I return I put
the outfit on.  With the key at home, of course.  The butt plug
keeps me from shitting (as well as being a constant reminder that it is
in me) and the rubber pants keep in any liquid I may let out.
 
Thus, self-bondage with only a locking collar.  It&amp;rsquo;s fun; try
it!
 
.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Steel Bound Pet</title><link>/stories/2004/02/24/steel-bound-pet/</link><pubDate>Tue, 24 Feb 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/02/24/steel-bound-pet/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Steel Bound Pet&lt;/strong&gt;
by Techster
Steel Bound Pet  by Techster
My wife, Techie, knows I love to experiment with self-bondage. Unlike
many self-bondage practitioners my self-bondage relies on my wife of 35+
years, Techie, for release. If correctly designed there is no way I can
free myself. From time to time I enjoy placing myself in a position of
complete dependence on her. Today I wanted to use locking steel bondage.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>My Thing 3</title><link>/stories/2004/02/01/my-thing-3/</link><pubDate>Sun, 01 Feb 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/02/01/my-thing-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Thing -&lt;/strong&gt; part
3
by Ann Johnson
Ann Johnson ‘My Thing 3’ Unsuccessful Self-inflected
Weekend Chastity
Unsuccessful Self-inflected
Weekend Chastity&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I recently made all the keys to my padlocks inaccessible buy my usual
means. One set left at my place of work, the second mailed to my own address
and the third hidden under the floor level shelf in my stationary shop
which remains closed all weekend. I had this idea of an enforced chastity
session for a while and decided to go for it last weekend. As you know
by now my equipment is pretty basic but it I manage to work with what I
have. For this session I would require my 4 foot heavy chain, 1 4 foot
and 2 1 foot lengths of light chain. I would also require 3 pairs of jeans
and my high heels.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage 13</title><link>/stories/2004/02/01/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-13/</link><pubDate>Sun, 01 Feb 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/02/01/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-13/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sammy Joe’s Barnyard
Self-Bondage&lt;/strong&gt;
by Hagster
Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Chapter Twenty-Six
A Sleeping Partner&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Hello friends.  If you will recall, my friend Trish and I had been
chained together wrist and ankle and were making our way to my parents’
bedroom to get some “sleep”.  My other friend Kristen had drunk herself
into a stupor and retired alone to my upstairs bedroom.  Although
Trish and I had imbibed as well, we decided to knock off before we got
too loopy.  After all, connected as we were, going to the bathroom
was difficult enough… I shuddered to think what could happen should one
or both of us become sick to our stomachs!  Damn, piss-soaked hair
would almost seem pleasurable in comparison to a vomit bath!  I apologize
for the graphic nature of my prior remarks.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Helping Her into Bondage</title><link>/stories/2004/01/14/helping-her-into-bondage/</link><pubDate>Wed, 14 Jan 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/01/14/helping-her-into-bondage/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Helping Her into
Bondage&lt;/strong&gt;
by Jan Smith
Helping Her into Bondage by Jan Smith&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I thought your readers would find this interesting. I started corresponding
with Monica about a year ago. She had tried self bondage and liked it,
but wanted more. We discussed who she could get involved in her bondage
and how to feel them out. My Mistress got involved and between the three
of us we made plans. To make a long story short a friend of hers &amp;ldquo;found&amp;rdquo; 
Monica&amp;rsquo;s E-mail address (we set it up) and wrote us. Monica knew that we
were writing her friend, but her friend was unaware of this. My Mistress
set it up with Monica as to how, where and when she should be tied and
then told her friend so that she could &amp;ldquo;accidentally find her&amp;rdquo;. It all
worked out very well and Monica and her friend started to develop a relationship.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Tension</title><link>/stories/2004/01/14/tension/</link><pubDate>Wed, 14 Jan 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/01/14/tension/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tension&lt;/strong&gt;
by Soloist
Tension by Soloist
The man was cuffed wrists and ankles, spread-eagled on the bed, sweating
and squirming.  He did not know how long he had been in this torment
but he was sure it was well over an hour, probably closer to two. 
Then his muscles tensed, his body going rigid with his back bowed as his
cock reached to heaven for climax.  A moan escaped his hood as he
was yet again denied the relief of orgasm.  All he could do was quietly
sob as he waited for the next time his cock screamed.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>My Thing 2</title><link>/stories/2003/12/16/my-thing-2/</link><pubDate>Tue, 16 Dec 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/12/16/my-thing-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;My Thing 2
by Ann Johnson
My Thing 2 by Ann Johnson
This is my second submission to Gromets page outline my self bondage
scenario and methods I use to humiliate, torture and fulfil my weird inner
stirrings. It felt strange to see my words and thoughts on the web for
all to see then my first submission was posted. Nobody knows about my self-bondage
fetish and it is something I would find very hard to divulge to anyone.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage 12</title><link>/stories/2003/12/16/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-12/</link><pubDate>Tue, 16 Dec 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/12/16/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-12/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Sammy Joe’s Barnyard
Self-Bondage
by Hagster
Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Chapter Twenty-Four&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Two Friends Bonding&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Hello, again, Sammy Joe here.  It’s been a while since I had begun
my session of self-bondage-turned bondage and domination with my two closest
friends.  If you have been reading this little story of mine, you
might be now realize just how close Kristen and I have become.  Sure,
she was always a close friend, but only now do I more fully understand
her.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Long Wait For The Keys</title><link>/stories/2003/12/16/the-long-wait-for-the-keys/</link><pubDate>Tue, 16 Dec 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/12/16/the-long-wait-for-the-keys/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The Long Wait For
The Keys.
by Lord Zhamet
The Long Wait For The Keys by Lord Zhamet
First let me introduce my self. I&amp;rsquo;m a 30-year-old bi-sexual male from
Sweden with a long interest in Self-Bondage and latex. In the BDSM community
I classify myself as a Switch. This is my first attempt on writing a story,
so please don&amp;rsquo;t be too hard in your judgment. Any comments can be sent
to lord_zhamet@hotmail.com&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>One Hundred to One</title><link>/stories/2003/12/05/one-hundred-to-one/</link><pubDate>Fri, 05 Dec 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/12/05/one-hundred-to-one/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;One Hundred to One
by b
 One Hundred to One. by b&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;After moving away to college, and living in the dorms for a short time,
I finally got a chance to move in with a great friend in a two bedroom
apartment. Dorm life was great. It was there that I met Mark, my roommate,
but life there really got in the way of my self-bondage and submissive
fantasies.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;While living in the dorms I would write an occasional bondage story
to help express my self-bondage needs. Although I wrote many stories of
my submission to both Dominant Women and Dominant Men, my favorite was
called One Hundred to One. It details my capture by a Dominant Male Master,
who keeps be bound and gagged constantly, only removing my gag long enough
to train me to enjoy the taste of his cum! (As you can see I love stories
about being submissive to Men&amp;ndash;not just to Women!) The story progresses:
I am further forced to endure orgasm denial (to keep me submissive and
aroused) until my Master declares one day, while I am ruthlessly hogtied
and ring-gagged, that I will only be allowed to spurt my slave-semen ONLY
after swallowing 100 full ejaculations from my Master! Whew! I have a difficult
time controlling my urge to masturbate (and cum hard!) each time I read
that story.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage 11</title><link>/stories/2003/11/20/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-11/</link><pubDate>Thu, 20 Nov 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/11/20/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-11/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Sammy Joe’s Barnyard
Self-Bondage - Chapter 11
by Hagster
Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage 
Chapter Twenty-Two - A
Time to Chill
Sammy Joe’s Barnyard
Self-Bondage Chapter Twenty-Two - A Time to Chill
Trish and I
sat on the bench for several minutes resting and catching our
breaths.  Neither of us spoke many words as we gathered our wits and
regained our composure.  I remained silent, ashamed of the pain I had
inflicted on one of my best friends, and Trish stayed quiet, I assumed,
because of her embarrassment at provoking me and showing a darker,
seemingly self-hating side of her personality.  To put it quite
bluntly, we were speechless.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Ashley 3</title><link>/stories/2003/10/12/ashley-3/</link><pubDate>Sun, 12 Oct 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/10/12/ashley-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Ashley Self Bondage&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;3
&lt;strong&gt;How
I Got Interested In Being Bound &amp;amp; Gagged&lt;/strong&gt;
by Ardvark
How I Got Interested In Being Bound &amp;amp; Gagged:&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My interest in bondage began long ago, when I was just a child. If I
had a ribbon or cord,  or any other kind of thing such as a belt,
I would often idly sit on the floor and tie my ankles together. Sometimes
after I tied my ankles together, I would twist whatever else I had around
my wrists. Sometimes both my ankles and wrists would be bound like that
for several minutes as I lay on the floor, or couch, watching TV.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Winners &amp; Losers</title><link>/stories/2003/10/12/winners-losers/</link><pubDate>Sun, 12 Oct 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/10/12/winners-losers/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Both of us were eagerly counting our money hoping to win but in a way,
hoping to lose also.  My friend Stacy and I had a bet.  We would
play Monopoly for 1 hour and whoever had the most money wins.  The
loser must then put themselves in self bondage while the winner has their
way with them.  During the course of the game, the odds went up to
3 different self bondage positions.  What was even better was that
we could tie ourselves up anyway we wanted, without having to worry about
release mechanisms.  Butterflies filled my stomach as I counted my
money, dreaming of what I might do or have done to me.  The money
was added up and we both had a smile on our faces.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Riding The Metal Pony</title><link>/stories/2003/09/20/riding-the-metal-pony/</link><pubDate>Sat, 20 Sep 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/09/20/riding-the-metal-pony/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The windows and doors were locked, the answerphone was on and everything
I would need was gathered in a sports bag. Using a pole with a hook on
the end, I opened the hatch to the loft and pulled down the ladder.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Although it had been a hot day, the air in the loft had cooled now to
a reasonable temperature to be naked – I hate being cold. I turned on the
light and unpacked the bag, laying out all the items and checking that
nothing was missing. All present and correct, I covered the hatch with
a large box, cutting out most of the external light, although a little
could seep in through the vents between the roof and the top of the walls.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Ashley 2 - My First Suspension</title><link>/stories/2003/09/05/ashley-2-my-first-suspension/</link><pubDate>Fri, 05 Sep 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/09/05/ashley-2-my-first-suspension/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Ashley Self Bondage&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;2
&lt;strong&gt;My
First Suspension&lt;/strong&gt;
by Ardvark&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;ol&gt;
&lt;li&gt;My First Suspension:&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ol&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My shoulders are aching from being in the same position for nearly two
hours. The real problem is, I won’t be able to get relief from this situation
for at least another hour. I have been able to wiggle from time to time,
lifting myself by one arm or the other, but for the past few minutes, the
strain on my arms has been very severe. The only relief I have been able
to get has been the fleeting moment when I’ve been able to stretch enough
to put some of my weight on the tips of my toes, I can’t maintain that
position for long, because of the strain on my legs. For this session,
I have a spreader bar between my ankles. This makes holding myself up by
my toes even more challenging. When I have been able to stand on my toes,
my arms were still held above my head and now ache from being forced to
maintain this position. My hands are getting numb because of the fatigue
in my arms and legs. After the first hour, my body was well worn out and
I was pretty much just hanging from my wrists.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage 10</title><link>/stories/2003/09/05/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-10/</link><pubDate>Fri, 05 Sep 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/09/05/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-10/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Sammy Joe’s Barnyard
Self-Bondage - Chapter 10
by Hagster
Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage 
Chapter Twenty
“What Happened?”
Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage Chapter Twenty
“What Happened?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;That’s odd, I thought.  What happened?  The last thing I remembered
was being given the best-damned oral sex I had ever experienced! 
It was dark.  Why was it dark?  I felt confused and disoriented. 
Why can’t I see anything?  I rolled my head from side to side and
reached out with my hands.  I could feel the arms of the recliner
against my palms and the foot extension under my feet.  Apparently
I was lying in the recliner.  But what happened?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage 9</title><link>/stories/2003/08/15/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-9/</link><pubDate>Fri, 15 Aug 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/08/15/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-9/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Sammy Joe’s Barnyard
Self-Bondage - Chapter 9
by Hagster
Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage 
Part Eighteen
“Where’s Trish?”
Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage Part Eighteen
“Where’s Trish?”
The entire situation was unacceptable.  There I was, legs spread
wide and chained to the foot of the bed, my wrists locked to my waist on
either side of my harness, and my piss-soaked face and hair resting atop
a towel thrown under my head to sop up the offending mess.  I was
becoming just a little more than upset!  How could Trish leave me
this way?  Oh, boy, was she in for it!  Although I was clearly
angry, I tried to be philosophical and understanding about the whole ordeal. 
Yeah, right!&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage 8</title><link>/stories/2003/08/05/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-8/</link><pubDate>Tue, 05 Aug 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/08/05/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-8/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Sammy Joe’s Barnyard
Self-Bondage - Chapter 8
by Hagster
Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage 
Chapter Sixteen
 “But it’s
too early for bed!”
Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage Chapter Sixteen 
“But it’s too early for bed!”
All three of us carried an armload of bottles, paper, and cardboard
into the kitchen.  With my ankles unhobbled, I was able to walk a
bit more normally, however I was still unable to fully extend my legs. 
Kristen, on the other hand…  Every step was an exercise in stimulation. 
Even with the vibrators turned off, they still made their presence known. 
Each one playing itself off against the other while both nestled tightly
within the depths of her loins.  I knew what she must have been going
through, and snickered at her under my breath.  She deserved it after
how she had teased me hours ago.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage 7</title><link>/stories/2003/07/22/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-7/</link><pubDate>Tue, 22 Jul 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/07/22/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-7/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Sammy Joe’s Barnyard
Self-Bondage - Chapter 7
by Hagster
Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage 
Part Fourteen
“Is Anybody There?”
Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage Part Fourteen
“Is Anybody There?”
I awoke slowly.  A noise had startled me until I realized it was
a snore, my own grunting sinuses.  There was a breeze on my face and
I wondered from where it was coming, so I cracked open an eye and looked
around.  The ceiling fan was turning.  Great, the power had been
restored.  I made an effort to stretch my arms after my well-deserved
nap.  The sound of chains rattling alerted me as to my bed-bound situation. 
Kristen had left me chained to the bed, but had obviously been back to
check on me because a bed sheet had replaced the robe she had draped over
me.  But, why didn’t she let me loose?  The only reason I could
imagine was she was trying to allow me to fulfill my bondage fantasies. 
Gee, how kind of her, huh?  At least she was looking after me, and
the “entertainment” was first rate.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage 6</title><link>/stories/2003/07/10/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-6/</link><pubDate>Thu, 10 Jul 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/07/10/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-6/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Sammy Joe’s Barnyard
Self-Bondage - Chapter 6
by Hagster
Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage 
Part Twelve
Some Relief, at
Last
Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage Part Twelve
Some Relief, at Last
Kristen had helped me walk to the front of the barn to the door leading
outside towards the house.  My progress was slow at best and I could
tell she was becoming somewhat frustrated.  She paused for a moment
after opening the door and leaned me against the corridor wall.  “I’ll
be right back, don’t go away,” she mocked as she walked out the door.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage 5</title><link>/stories/2003/07/01/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-5/</link><pubDate>Tue, 01 Jul 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/07/01/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-5/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Sammy Joe’s Barnyard
Self-Bondage - Chapter 5
by Hagster
Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage Part SevenWill
They Ever Leave?
Part Ten
Oops!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Well, you know the old Chinese proverb, “…be careful what you ask for,
you just might get it”.  I had managed to suspend myself from the
roof of the loft down through the trap door, gagged, hands nearly immobilized,
and my feet chained neatly underneath my butt two feet off the barn floor. 
The vibrator in my pussy was going like crazy, and was beginning to drive
me mad with pleasure.  Waves of ecstasy were mounting and I struggled
against my bonds.  I squirmed and twisted, trying to aid the buzzing
shaft inside of me to bring me over the edge.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage 4</title><link>/stories/2003/06/10/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-4/</link><pubDate>Tue, 10 Jun 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/06/10/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-4/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Sammy Joe’s Barnyard
Self-Bondage - Chapter 4
by Hagster
Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage Part SevenWill
They Ever Leave?
Part Seven
Will They Ever Leave?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Good grief will Sunday ever come?  And here I was on a Friday night,
in my room, listening to talk radio.  Boyfriend hundreds of miles
away doing Lord knows what with God knows who, unwilling to pleasure myself
while waiting for Sunday to arrive, and going over yet again the plans
I was devising for myself.  I unlocked my “hope chest” to take inventory
of what I had amassed and possibly of what I had forgotten.  I retrieved
an old pair of sweatpants from a dresser drawer and grabbed my scissors. 
I wouldn’t need to be fully clothed, yet wanted some amount of protection
from the restraints.  Bondage need not be uncomfortable and I detest
chafing.  I snipped the legs of the sweatpants off at the knees, threw
them and a large white cotton tee shirt back into the chest and locked
it.  Nothing left to do now but wait, some more.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage 3</title><link>/stories/2003/04/28/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-3/</link><pubDate>Mon, 28 Apr 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/04/28/sammy-joes-barnyard-self-bondage-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Sammy Joe’s Barnyard
Self-Bondage - Chapter 3
by Hagster
Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage Part Five A
Restless Night
&lt;strong&gt;Part Five&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;A Restless Night&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Dinner was later than usual and no one had much to say.  Mom and
Dad were in deep anticipation of their nearing vacation, while I was anxious
to get on with my upcoming session.  After the dishes were washed
and put away, we all agreed to call it a day and went to bed early. 
Being as I did not do any work today, I didn’t build up any kind of a sweat
and decided to forego an evening shower.  Morning showers, on the
other hand, were a must.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Hypnotically Bound</title><link>/stories/2003/04/09/hypnotically-bound/</link><pubDate>Wed, 09 Apr 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/04/09/hypnotically-bound/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Hypnotically Bound
by John Roper
Hypnotically Bound by John Roper&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Being blond and beautiful would have been a difficult enough social
cross to bear for Susan. Having an outrageous figure made the visual burden
that much more complex, making any kind of public appearance an exercise
in extreme self-consciousness. Add to this mixed-blessing-dilemma the psychological
wrinkle of a B/D-kinky nature, and what we had here was a woman who&amp;rsquo;d waited
too long and hard for her one-and-only to come along.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>This Month It's Her Treat - Dammit!</title><link>/stories/2002/11/04/this-month-its-her-treat-dammit/</link><pubDate>Mon, 04 Nov 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2002/11/04/this-month-its-her-treat-dammit/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The restrained moans and
air whistling through her nostrils said it all. I was on the highway
with my leather-clad housemate in the passenger seat and all I could think
of was I wished it were me in her situation.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;We had met just over a year
ago in, believe it or not, a leather clothing store. They were having
a spring sale to clear merchandise before the hot weather and I was trying
on skirts while, nearby, she was trying to pick a light jacket.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Invitation 2: Second Invitation</title><link>/stories/2002/05/01/invitation-2-second-invitation/</link><pubDate>Wed, 01 May 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2002/05/01/invitation-2-second-invitation/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="invitation.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Invitation&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 2: Second Invitation&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The
next few days left Nick in a turmoil. His mind kept returning to the events
of the previous Saturday when the mysterious &amp;ldquo;J&amp;rdquo; had ensnared him and,
as she had promised, given him an adventure to fulfill his wildest fantasies.
Every evening he rushed home to check his mailbox for another invitation
but, each time, he was disappointed.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The
week passed, and then the next. Nick had driven past J&amp;rsquo;s house a couple
of times but her admonition not to try and contact  her kept him from
stopping. One thing he did do was to surreptitiously try and look over
the women who used the gym whilst he was exercising. &amp;ldquo;D&amp;rdquo; one of the women
who had ridden him that Saturday afternoon had recognised him and commented
that she had wanted to get her hands on him. &amp;ldquo;J&amp;rdquo; herself seemed to know
that he worked out regularly. Frustratingly, although there were many women
using the gym, he could never feel with any certainty that he recognised
a voice - which was all he had to go on.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>It Shouldn't Happen to a Mummy!</title><link>/stories/2001/05/18/it-shouldnt-happen-to-a-mummy/</link><pubDate>Fri, 18 May 2001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2001/05/18/it-shouldnt-happen-to-a-mummy/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Just a little story that happened to me
some years ago and seems funny when I look back on it now, But at the time
I was hoping the floor would open up and swallow me.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I had just finished my night shift at the local
hospital; it was the weekend, 8 AM. I had looked forward to being
mummified all week long. I walked in the house Len my partner had just
got up and was having breakfast, I called across I am just going to have
a shower then we can start, he blew me a kiss and I went to the shower
room.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Bondage Barbie 14</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/bondage-barbie-14/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/bondage-barbie-14/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="bondage_barbie13.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bondage Barbie 13&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)_&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 14 –
The Ultimate 69&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Since coming to live with me
Beth had become almost insatiable.  Whether
she was tormenting Dawn with increasingly stringent bondage positions and
outfits or was herself on the receiving end of my hobby, Beth kept coming back
for more.  Many days I would slow
her down by simply tying her hand and foot, forcing a large gag in her mouth and
leaving her to stew.  The problem
was that when I did release her she was so wound up and excited it sometimes
took hours to get her satisfied.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Bondage Barbie 15</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/bondage-barbie-15/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/bondage-barbie-15/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="bondage_barbie14.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bondage Barbie 14&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)_&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter
15 –
The&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Rawhide
Experience&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;My most ambitious outfit for
Dawn was also extremely expensive. Preparing for its use the next day I put all
the components in a large bucket and lowered them into the hot tub overnight.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;To keep her quiet during the
process Beth forced a large rubber ball in Dawn’s mouth and buckled a strap
around her head to keep it in place.  A
blindfold kept her from seeing the rest of the preparations and I pulled the
bucket from the hot tub, put it on a small trolley and wheeled it over to the
table where we had her strapped down.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Bondage Barbie 16</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/bondage-barbie-16/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/bondage-barbie-16/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="bondage_barbie15.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bondage Barbie 15&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)_&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter
16 –&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Bound
to Return&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dawn was going to be riding home from
the chalet in style, but not a style she would appreciate. 
On the top of my van was a streamlined luggage container. 
It was permanently attached to the roof and the curved front presented
little wind resistance.  The hinged
top opened lengthwise for loading and then clamped down to be completely
weatherproof; the unit had originally been designed for skis and duffle bags.
Two padlocks allowed me to lock it securely.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Bondage Barbie 17</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/bondage-barbie-17/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/bondage-barbie-17/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="bondage_barbie16.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bondage Barbie 16&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)_&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 17 – “The Meal Game”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;It was my turn to play “The Meal Game”; Beth had done it last Saturday evening and failed.  There were two main pieces of equipment needed for the game – the chair and Dawn!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;The chair was an oversize, heavy, straight-backed dining room piece that we had modified.  There were locking casters on each leg and just above them a piece of ½” plywood formed a solid platform.  Above that there was a half-moon shape cut out from the front of the padded seat.  The inside edge of the cut out had a series of small screw eyes at about 1” intervals and there was a threaded socket in the seat just in front of the backrest.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Bondage Barbie 18</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/bondage-barbie-18/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/bondage-barbie-18/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="bondage_barbie17.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bondage Barbie 17&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)_&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 18 – Suspended Surrender&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;It was hard to believe that after all we had put her through over the last few months Dawn still had a spark of defiance left.  Beth had been careless and that allowed Dawn to swing a free arm and catch her across the mouth with the back of a leather-covered hand.  The damage had been minimal, except to Beth’s pride, but I was determined to extinguish that spark.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Investigative Reporter 12: Little Fugitive</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-investigative-reporter-12-little-fugitive/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-investigative-reporter-12-little-fugitive/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="investigativereporter11.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Investigative Reporter 11: Contract Negotiations&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 12: Little Fugitive&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Beth was once again put up in her stall, and the hired help dismissed for the day with pay long before J.M. used the editor&amp;rsquo;s telephone to call her driver back at her ranch for a pickup. Ordinarily new ponygirls were acquired as walk ins, and the truck and trailer not needed to transport them initially to the ranch. The I.P.R.L. however was rather specific in it&amp;rsquo;s rules on transportation of racing stock, and this could be a gray area that could run her afoul of the committee if it were questioned. Beth was technically already &amp;ldquo;in harness&amp;rdquo;, and to transport her in a passenger car like an ordinary human just wouldn&amp;rsquo;t do for several reasons, the least of which was that it would set a dangerous precedent and could negate her previous training. There was also the consideration that Beth technically was an escaped convict, and if transported in the back of a livestock trailer there would likely be little scrutiny of the truck&amp;rsquo;s cargo on it&amp;rsquo;s return trip.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Investigative Reporter 7: The Price Of Freedom, part 2</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-investigative-reporter-7-the-price-of-freedom-part-2/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-investigative-reporter-7-the-price-of-freedom-part-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="investigativereporter6.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Investigative Reporter 6: The Price Of Freedom, part 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 7: The Price Of Freedom, part 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Beth knew she wouldn&amp;rsquo;t be able to easily open the trunk lid from the inside in the dark, if at all, and that if she needed to escape it would have to be right past the stranger staring at her. That was at best a near impossibility, but even if she did escape this stranger she would be stranded nearly naked in an unknown place with no food, water, or even money to buy her freedom. She knew she could be easily grabbed by some opportunistic men who could take extreme advantage of her, (if they could catch her), only to return her to Grandview where she belonged when they were eventually done with her.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>