Outdoor

Call me Breezy. I’m a 22 year old girl, single. Until the age of fifteen I had never masturbated, had only a classroom sex-ed understanding of sexuality. That changed in a hurry when I saw Marilyn Monroe in the 1955 film The Seven Year Itch. In case you don’t recognize the reference, this is the one where Monroe is wearing a white dress, stands on a street grate as air blows up through the grate, and the air blast catches and blows her dress upwards. I saw it on TV with my older brother and his male friend. They obsessed over the scene, pausing it, replaying it, making comments. They were clearly aroused by the scene. I was aroused by their reactions to it. I was quiet, but felt a hot rush. I masturbated for the first time that night. I pictured myself like that, guys watching as a wind gust lifted my dress. ...

This is a past story that happened many years ago. It is a true story of one of my very first trash experiences. Over a period of several months, I had been keeping an eye on the trash bins on the side of the house to see if it was feasible to get inside of one some day. I had read many of the stories on this website about trash bags and really liked the idea, it was just a matter of finding the right place to try it. ...

Frankie Massino was trying to figure out why he was lying on something pliable yet cold while his front side was warmer. He may have had a bit too much to drink last night but he’d never had a hangover like he was experiencing now. The pounding in his skull was almost nauseating. Trying to lift his hands to his head to see if that would somehow help the throbbing pain to stop, Frankie found that he was unable to move them. His eyelids felt like they were made of lead as he tried to open them. Using all his energy to try and force them apart, Frankie began to understand what had happened to him. ...

It’s a lovely warm Summer’s day, just past the heat of the mid-day sun but still with hours of sunshine to bask in on this idyllic island retreat. The air seems to hang heavy with no breeze and you can feel the heat rising from any open ground or beach. It’s a fairly long drive to the cove we have found but it is so far off the beaten track that it seems no one ever ventures there, hence guaranteed privacy. No car tracks, no litter and there’s the inviting shade offered by the trees only 50 metres from the shoreline. ...

“Go on, it’s what you have always wanted” He looked at me and licked his lips nervously, then turned his face back towards the fate I had laid out for him. Straight from his darkest, deepest fantasies. Four stakes driven deep into the ground, and a length of rope tightly tied to each one. The stakes were driven into the ground in a wide square that could have only one purpose, and he knew exactly what it was. ...

Chapter 01: The Train Tracks Sheila and I had known each other for about a year, been dating about six months, but had been into the kinky side of her personality for only a few weeks. As a matter of fact, this was the first time she had ever tried to get anyone to see or even witness what she called one of her major games. She had been wanting to show me something, that she said was one of her hottest self-bondage things, something she had done to herself many times before and never failed to wind up sexually exhausted every time she did it. Of course I was interested but she wouldn’t tell me much more about it, she said she was afraid I’d think her weird. She finally, after a lot of prodding and a little bit of threatening, volunteered that it involved her hanging by her wrists from a railroad bridge. She wouldn’t tell me any more, just wanted my promise that I would do whatever she asked and reassured me that it obviously didn’t hurt her, and it would be worth my time to watch. ...

It all started by watching the nature channel. Maggie and I were just snuggling while watching kangaroos. Maggie wondered why the legs of the kangaroo always seemed locked together. After much research she did not get it. I admit Maggie can be a bit thick headed. Worse. Just as stubborn. So in a random act of stupidity. I decided to have her understand by being a kangaroo. Now I am ex-army. I was in the combat battalion. Civil engineer. I like to know the mechanics of the way things worked. I was always big into Lego, Erector sets. That sort of thing. An IED zapped me good. Left leg got torn up bad. They managed to save it but the nerve damage was severe. I have to walk with a cane. ...

continued from part 5 Part 6: Bondage Doggy He laid there- stiffly, blindly, unmovingly, wondering how long, and how much longer?? Here he was again in strictly-enforced complete rigid immobility, wrapped and trapped on the padded mummification board at the hands of his determined, obsessed wife-mistress. Her sentence was overnight, and non-negotiable. This was the part that caused him concern, not the severe mummification, or “maximummification”, as she called it, as he enjoyed being totally immobilized and sensory-deprived—for “reasonable” periods, usually between 3 and 6 hours’ duration. He would let her know when he’d had enough. Not now! Not on this crazy 3-day weekend ultra-bondage marathon she’d decided upon. ...

Rope’s not my thing. I’m more into the potential for humiliation and getting caught. Why does one always have to be hobbled or tied when on an adventure? So here’s the tale of how I got myself into a pickle, just to get my jollies. The whole idea of what my aroused mind wanted to do seemed like too much work for me, so I managed to convince myself one step at a time. ...

(story continues from No Job Means No Dignity) This story is a follow up to No Job Means No Dignity Part One. If you haven’t read it, I suggest you do so now to give you a better idea of what’s going on here. Part Two: A Day by the Pool About 6 months have passed since I lost my job when things changed forever as my wife became the dominant one in our relationship and I became, for want of a better word, her bitch. ...

I should have been forewarned. That phone call she made was not ominous nor unusual. I could hear the smile in her voice as she asked me to be ready for 10 o’clock and that we were going for a drive into the country. She went on to tell me to shave carefully. OK, I thought as she hung up. Shave carefully? Hmmm. I did go shave again as I had already finished my morning shower etc. The razor was used deliberately slowly being careful to scrape each bit of shaving cream from my face. I was puzzled by her request but happily complied with her wishes. Fresh aftershave, her favourite, and a careful comb ensured I looked as good as I could for her. ...

BZZZZZZZZ! The alarm went off at 8:00 a.m. on Saturday morning. Normally I like to sleep in on the weeksends, but today was a special Saturday. I was going to be judging a contest among my four friends that started at 10:00, and I wanted time to relax and enjoy my morning. They would all be calling shortly before 10:00, and we would begin. I put on a pot of coffee and got the paper in, and settled in to wait for their calls and take in the lovely morning. ...

Home Alone – A Weekend of Self-Bondage Play I recently had that rare opportunity to indulge in satisfying several of my ideas. I live with my wife and young adult son, so I don’t have as many chances to indulge myself as I’d like. My wife doesn’t approve of my play, and it isn’t the kind of thing most people share with their children, no matter how old they are. To my amazement, events came together so that both would be out of town from Friday until Sunday. I was scheduled to work Friday, Saturday, and Sunday evenings, but figured there would still be time to have some fun. ...

Part 1 - First Meeting I had been chatting with James by e-mail for several months. We both had an interest in things related to bondage and had started corresponding after discovering each other’s profiles on myspace. On my page, I had posted some photos of me tied up that a friend had taken, but, truthfully, I was a wannabe, a dreamer with not a lot of experience. James seemed to be deeply involved in all things bondage, complemented me on the pictures and wrote about his interest in tight, restrictive bondage. He tied me up on-line and despite the obvious limitations of that activity, I found myself getting very excited at his descriptions of how he would bind me and treat me after I was bound. He also seemed to be very nice… at least from what I could tell from his e-mails. I was well aware of the dangers of meeting people from the ‘net. I was also involved with someone and the relationship was important to me. I had firmly resolved to not take this myspace thing too seriously, but there was something about James that made me loosen up on my (I thought) firm resolution. After a lot of serious back-and-forth debate in my mind, I agreed to meet him. We lived within easy traveling distance of each other. As it turned out, he had relatives near where I lived. It was easy to arrange a place to meet, and we agreed to get together in a park on the outskirts of town. He was familiar with the park and we quickly agreed on a spot where we could meet. I wanted a public place for a couple of reasons. Weird things were less likely to happen in public and, if I didn’t like what I saw, I could just not meet him. I mean there was no misunderstanding what was going on. He wanted to tie me up and I… well, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. I intended to show up early and scope out the place where we were to meet. As I said, if I didn’t like his looks, I was out of there! I parked in the lot near the bench that we had agreed would be our spot. There were a lot of people around for which I was grateful. I could blend in with the crowd and scope him out. I sat in my car for a few minutes until it was about 10 minutes before we were to meet. I got out of the car, beeped it locked and started strolling towards the jogging path that passed by the bench. I could see that no one was at the bench yet. So far, so good! This was to be a “negotiating session” so I had dressed in jeans and a simple long-sleeved top. I wasn’t the right time to dress provocatively and I could move quickly and freely in jeans if I had to. I made one pass by the bench and stepped off the jogging path near a small maintenance building that was about 100 feet from the bench. I stood at the side of the building away from the bench and watched. The time of our meeting came and went and no James. “That son-of–a bitch” I said half aloud. “I can’t believe he stood me up! Bastard!” I was about to step back onto the path and get the hell out of there, when I heard a rustling behind me. I had been so lost in my righteous indignation over his snub that I wasn’t paying attention to what was going on around me. I half turned around to investigate the noise when an arm snaked around my waist and a hand clamped over my mouth. “Jenet, I presume” a voice whispered in my ear. What the hell was this? Fear spiked through me and I struggled against his grasp. He was strong and, as I tried to break free, was dragging me into the brush behind the building. Fueled by my fear, I fought as hard as I could, but in a matter of seconds we were in a different world. It seemed as if the park didn’t exist. I couldn’t see or hear anything except our labored breathing, my muted shouts and the rustling of the tall brush around us. Despite my best efforts, he dragged me to a clearing and wrestled me to the ground, landing me on my stomach with him sitting on my back. As his hand came away from my mouth, I opened it to scream, but I couldn’t get the sound out quickly enough. A spongy foam ball filled my mouth and cut off my shout. He pushed it farther into my mouth and fastened the straps behind my neck. It was the first time I had been gagged with a ball gag and I had to work to keep from heaving. That big wad of foam filled my mouth and held my lips far apart. The wide straps immediately began to irritate the corners of my mouth. And I could no longer make intelligible sounds. I tried to squirm free, but with his full weight on me there was no chance. He pulled my hands together and tied them and then tied my elbows, tying them so tightly that my forearms touched all the way from elbows to wrists. He spun around and grabbed my legs. I had been pummeling his back with my heels. He held them in a bear hug and managed to tie my ankles together. Finally, he stood up, breathing hard, but smiling. I rolled onto my back and glared up at him. I was 99% sure it was James. I mean he looked like the pictures he had sent. I wasn’t totally sure, but the chances were good that he was. Whoever it was, he had me good and tied and I wasn’t going anywhere! “Hi Jenet! I’m James!” I sputtered at him from behind my gag. I must have made too much noise because he quickly pushed me back onto the ground and taped over my gag with some tape that appeared from his bag of tricks. I was livid and spouted off every swear word I knew at him. He had stood back up and was smiling down at me. “What are you so pissed off about, Jenet? You know you wanted this!” He knelt down again and buckled a thick collar around my neck. I tried to twist away, but to no avail. “That collar means that you are mine to do with as I see fit, do you understand?” He nudged me with his foot. I gave him a sullen nod of my head. I was in no position to disagree. “Well, Jenet, as nice as this is, we can’t stay here!” He dragged me to my feet and stood me up. I teetered a bit, but managed to get my balance. He knelt down behind me and cut the rope around my ankles, then moved to the front and tied a rope to the ring in the collar. I glared at him with undisguised loathing, but he just laughed. “Lets take a walk!” During the struggle, I had lost my shoes. I protested in gag talk and by using my eyes, I got him to understand what I was trying to say. He helped put my shoes back on and then, grabbing up the leash, jerked me forward, away from the path, people and freedom. ...

First a little about myself. My name is Tony and I’m a thirty-year-old male who discovered bondage from my ex-girlfriend many years ago. A few years back, she decided that we weren’t “compatible” any more and left me. That’s when I started learning the art of self-bondage. I’ve had many interesting and captivating moments that had me stuck for longer periods of time than I expected. This is a true story of one of my adventures. This happened about one year ago. Believe it or not! The names have been changed to protect the innocent. ...

Author’s note: Some words, including ‘hugely’ occur far too often in the story. The story is intended to portray the written version of a verbal narrative, and the character “talks that way.” The author understands the value of variety in written and spoken words, and practices it. Hugely. Part 1 My Name is William Randolph Shelton and I make this statement freely and under no coercion. The night in question I was a participant in a sex scene with the principles of the matter. The other people involved were Robert Hanscom, Marcia East, and at one point in the evening Daria Wilson. ...