Sting on Gromet's Plaza Archive

Self-Tied, Self-Terror

Sun, 01 Feb 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Nora’s legs and feet ached horribly, and it wasn’t much better for her wrists or neck to be honest. She had no way of knowing exactly how long she’d been in her self-bondage predicament, but it had to be quite a while, and that terrified her. Not because of the length of her bondage or that anything had gone wrong. No, it was because of the consequence she had set for herself if she failed to escape within an hour. Her selected punishment for failure terrified her in a deep and primal way, but that was the point. She got a hell of an adrenaline kick when she had a predicament to work against, and today’s certainly classified in her mind.

Kens life in Self Bondage 2: The Middle Years

Mon, 28 Jan 2013 00:00:00 +0000

continued from part one

This is my story of self bondage. More specifically my story of cock and ball self bondage. It started over 60 years ago. In the beginning it was all so new and exciting. Today 60 plus years later it is not new but it is still exciting.

2: The Middle Years

I had a job working on a farm for a couple of years and quite enjoyed it. For most of the time I was never there by myself as the family that I worked for never went on holidays. In my third year they decided that they had earned a well deserved 3 week holiday and left me in charge of the place. It had a barn with a hay loft in it and a trap door to get the hay down. Shortly after everyone left I got the urge to have some of my pent up fun. It had been a very long time.

I, Masochist - Chapter 7: Francine

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

(story continues from I, Masochist - Chapter 6: Ellen)

Chapter 7: Francine

Chapter seven of eight is W’s interview with “Francine”

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

For some reason, I was really looking forward to my interview with Francine. Part of it was because it would be my last interview, but mostly it was because I knew she had to be ‘bright eyes,’ the very blue-eyed girl whom I had helped push into orgasm that first night I watched Shelly’s performance art presentation of “I, Masochist.” She had been practically begging for more pain so that she could cum. I gave it to her and she gave quiet a performance with her screaming, thrashing orgasm. I knew that her story would be exceptionally interesting.