I had my day all planned out. The first thing that I wanted to do was to walk around the house to get the feel for moving around semi-restrained and blindfolded.
I very carefully got off the bed and felt my way into the bathroom. I wanted to make sure that I could use the toilet if I had to later in the day.
Once I got to the bathroom, I felt my way over to the toilet. As luck would have it, the lid was not raised. You would be surprised how hard it is to lift the lid of the toilet with your hands locked behind you, especially when they are locked to your waist.
I had to very carefully bend backwards to reach the lid. However, every time I got a hold of the lid and tried to lift it up, it would slip from my gloved hand. I finally got the lid up by moving to one side and trying it again.
After the lid was up, I very carefully tried to sit down on the toilet. But, the thigh-high leather boots that I was wearing were not very flexible, something about new patent leather. They were almost a bondage by themselves. (I guess that's why I always choose to wear them for my bondage fun.) With my ankles hobbled by the twelve-inch chain, and the boots having five-inch heels, and the floor made of tile, sitting down without being able to see what you are doing or having your arms for balance was quite an adventure. However, with some patience, I was able to accomplish such an easy task. Once I figured out that I could use the bathroom when I needed (assuming I found it again), I continued on my slow tour of the house.
One would think that after being in a house for over four years, one could remember where things were located such as doors, chairs, and closets. However, when you do not have the full use of your senses (sight, sound, and touch), the house can seem like a giant maze. The discipline hood that I wore was doing an excellent job of keeping me disoriented, and because of the hobbling chain on my ankles and the very high heels, I had to take very small steps. This makes the distance between rooms seem like miles.
I continued my tour at a very slow rate, moving from room to room, trying to remember and feel where each object was. I had to stop and catch my breath often due to the hood and ball-gag. I did not want to lose my balance, so the going was kept at a snail's pace.
I moved from the bedroom to the hallway down to my other spare bedroom, and then into the kitchen. I could tell that I was in the kitchen by the different floor. It was wood, where as the rest of my house was carpet. I had to be very careful on the slick wood floor. The boots were very slippery with such high pointed heels and I knew that if I fell, I would have a hell of a time trying to get back up on this floor.
I walked over to the back door and verified the door was locked. I then moved from the kitchen into the dining room and then finally into the living room.
I very carefully made my way over to the sofa and sat down to rest. I was exhausted. I did not know how long it had taken me to reach the living room (when you're bound, gagged, and blindfolded, time seems to stand still). My grandfather clock in the hallway sounded telling me that it was 1:30 in the afternoon. It had taken me over an hour to make the trip. My poor feet felt like it was all day. They were not very accustomed to wearing such high heels for long periods of time.
I always tie myself up in very high heels or boots, but I normally do not walk around in them that much. The high heels serve as a special bondage all by themselves.
While I was sitting on the sofa, I noticed that I was getting warmer by the minute. It was then that I realized that I had forgotten to pull the drapes closed that hung on my huge picture window in the front of the living room, and that the sun was shinning in. What also hit me was the fact that the two alarm clocks that held my keys to freedom were hung on a hook almost directly in front of the picture window. Since my overhead lights were on timers for the better part of the evening, I either had to stay out of the living room all night or take the chance of being seen (it would be very interesting to have the police or somebody arrive at my door thinking that I was in some sort of trouble). I knew that I would be unable to close the drapes with my hands locked behind me because the drape cord is located up near the top of the window. Therefore, I was stuck with the drapes open for everyone to look in.
Something else that I noticed while sitting on the sofa, was that I could not hear the ticking of the alarm clocks. The discipline hood muffled all incoming sounds. I knew they were ticking when I set then earlier that morning but, being bound and gagged by yourself, waiting for an alarm clock to give you freedom, your mind starts to play tricks on you. But what could I do now! If the alarms do not go off, I can always try and make my way out to the garage after darkness set in, or as a last resort I could call Monica and she could come over and help me. The help from Monica would not go unrepaid. Monica has a very inventing mind when it comes to paybacks dealing with bondage.
After resting a while, I decided to make my way back to my bedroom so I could listen to the muffled sounds of the stereo and rest on the bed. Again the walk was slow and the restrictions on my arm were starting to take its toll on my muscles.
Not being able to move certain parts of your body for any length of time can be a torture within itself. The stiffness in my jaw was the worst. I had not thought that a medium size rubber ball would be that bad as a gag, but after a few hours, the size of the ball seemed to be getting bigger. I came to the conclusion that even a small ball would have been too much. Oh well, maybe next time.
For the rest of the afternoon and evening, I just laid around on the bed listening to my stereo. Occasionally, I would make my way to the bathroom, but that was about all the excitement that I could come with. Bondage is that kind of adventure that requires you to give up a lot, especially self-bondage.
I did not get too may phone calls that day. The ones that I did really scared me because I was not expecting them. The call were just some of my friends calling to see if I was home. Little did they know just how HOME I really was. I was not going anywhere for sometime.
I thought about trying to pick up the phone during one of the calls and try and see if I could get a message across that I needed help, but I quickly ruled that out. I did not want anyone to think that I was really in trouble and call the police or something. That encounter would be very humiliating and anyway, how would I tell them where the keys were. The discipline hood was locked on and I was gagged underneath.
As the night wore on, I was beginning to wish that I had used some sort of outside stimulus such as a vibrator or butt plug. I realized that if I had worn such items, going to the bathroom would have been very difficult, but I needed something to push me over the edge of orgasm. Tied the way that I was, prevented me from touching myself in all the right places and the sexual frustration was building. So I laid back on the bed and waited.
While I was lying there on the bed, I rolled over on my stomach and brought my ankles up to my wrist in the hogtie fashion. (This was hard to do with the boots on.) The hogtie is my favorite bondage position. As I laid there on the bed in a mock hogtie, my bound breasts were being crushed beneath my body. The feeling was wonderful. The breast bondage had done its job. The coils of rope around my breasts had made my breasts very sensitive, and the harder I struggled, the better they felt. I could feel my sexual release building. I yelled into my gag, but no one heard me. It did not matter. The first wave of orgasm hit. It took my breath away. Then the second wave hit me, I was in heaven.
Somewhere during the second orgasm, I must have fallen asleep, because I awoke to the sound of my alarm clock going off. It was the alarm that I had set to go off at midnight. I must have slept through my other small alarm that I had set to go off at 10:00 p.m. This meant that I had only thirty minutes to wait before I would be able to get free (assuming that the other two alarm clocks worked). I woke up very stiff and sore. My jaw hurt from the ball-gag and my shoulders ached from the bondage. I would say that I have learned a greater appreciation for bondage and restraints. My body was going to need a long rest before I try this again.
I now had to make my way back into the living room. I wanted to be there when the alarms went off so that I knew the keys had fallen to the floor. If I was not there, I would never know if they fell and I would have to try and find the keys. It's easier to find something when you know it's there, than if you are not sure. For all I knew, I would be looking for nothing. That would mean a long trip out to the garage and I do not think that my poor feet would stand the trip. I would be glad to get out of these high-heeled boots.
The walk back to the living room was again slow but was made without incident. I arrived in the room just as the alarms were going off. Hopefully the timer for my lights was working and the living room light were off. If not, I would be quite a sight in front of the window. Now I only hoped that the keys had fallen to the floor.
I must have searched the floor for forever. It's hard to search when you can not move your hands very far at one time and when you can not feel the floor because of the leather gloves. I found a couple of the keys right away but, none were the one that I needed to unlock the wrist cuffs.
Finally, I found the key to my cuffs and unlocked them. I then had to relocate the other keys to unlock my leather hood and ankle cuffs. When these were unlocked, I removed the hood and the ball-gag and then I removed the leather boots. I was exhausted, because I must have fallen asleep right there on the floor. I had even forgotten to remove the rope breast bondage. After a couple of hours of rest, I removed the breast bondage and picked up my stuff and took a nice long bath to relax my sore muscles.
Sunday morning, the next day, I called Monica and told what I had done and she said that she was impressed with my adventure. She came over later that evening and I showed her my setup and explained all the steps that I went through. I even tied Monica up the same way that I had tied myself up the night before. She wanted to try and walk around the room all bound and gag the way that I was. I however, added one additional piece of bondage gear to her already-bound body. In addition to the rope halter bra that she wore, I added wooden clothes pins to her nipples. I told her that to get them off she had to travel to living room where I would be waiting for her. Monica just moaned behind her hood. What could she do!
When she got to the living room, after two wrong turns and two slaps on the ass to get going in the right direction, Monica arrived at the place that I told her be. Of course, I released her, but not before letting her wander around the living room for a few minutes. I didn't say anything to her; I wanted to let her experience the isolation that the leather hood provides.
Monica slowly made her way around to the sofa where I was sitting. As she approached, I reached out and grabbed the clothespins and held on. Monica stopped in her tracks and only whined. I could see that see was becoming aroused, as the inside of her thighs were wet, but not from sweat!.
After a while of this kind of teasing, I unlocked her wrists and the hood. I let her take the clothespins off her nipples and remove the ball gag. All she could do was smile at me. I knew that look. I was going to pay for my teasing. but when who knows. Monica's mind works in strange ways.
When she had rested, Monica lit up a cigarette and we both had a glass of wine and we began to make plans for our next bondage adventure and think up new games that would take us to new heights of bondage fun. Games I'm sure that will greatly bring out the submissiveness in me!
It was nearing 5:00 p.m. Thursday evening, the day of Monica's return flight. I was sitting in Monica's kitchen out at her ranch, slowly sipping a glass of chilled wine. My left hand was gently pulling on the new silver nipple ring inserted in my left nipple. Yes, it was new, as was the right one and the two rings inserted through my labia. A few changes had taken place in this long, but short, four and a half months.
My legs were encased in my favorite black leather thigh-high boots, the ones with the six inch heels. The boots felt sleek and were tight fitting as they were custom made to my measurements. I had to keep my legs fairly straight due to the stiffness of the leather. My long black leather kid gloves lay on the table before me. These gloves had been through a lot over these past few months. I wore nothing else but a smile. The wooden chair felt cool to my naked behind and my inner thighs were already wet. I had sat on these wooden chairs many times in the past, most of the time tightly bound and gagged. These chairs and I were old friends. Monica and I had bought them specially because of their design. They made for some great chair bondages due to the narrow back and sturdy arm pieces. Today, though, I was sitting with no ropes or gags to hamper me, just me and my boots.
I had already laid out all my bondage toys and placed my total array of fetish clothing, including my boots and shoes on the floor in Monica's bedroom. They, like me, were waiting to be used in what I hoped to be a fantastic bondage homecoming for both Monica and myself.
Monica's plane was due in at 5:45 p.m. and she had a thirty minute drive from the airport. As a surprise and a treat, I had chartered a limo to bring her and her luggage home. I had asked for a female driver in uniform knowing that Monica would enjoy the servitude. I had plenty of time to finish my preparations and surprise for her return. I had hoped that it would be a surprise that would take us to new heights of bondage fun. I knew it would for me, as I smiled again, gently pulling on now both nipple rings. I closed my eyes and licked my lips as I pulled the rings harder.
Monica had been gone for four and a half months, but the time seemed to fly by. She had flown to Europe to conduct several fashion shoots and runway fashion shows for her company. She was now on her way back for a much-needed rest. I had planned on letting her rest just as soon as she had me tied up and secured for the evening.
I had done so much in the way of bondage fun, surprisingly, since her departure. Lots of self-bondage, of course, a bondage model photo shoot as part of my birthday present, a few domination scenes with another of our girlfriends, Brenda, and then the piercings. My head was spinning as I continued to pull harder on the rings. The memories were many as were the variety of bondages. I couldn't wait to tell Monica all about them, bound, of course, and only if Monica removes the ball gag that will be locked in place.
Her letter was in front of me on the table stating when she was to arrive and that she received my special package that I had sent her. I had sent her a package of keys and a note about the limo service I had arranged for her return. The keys, of course were to my freedom. They were special keys that only she would hold. The keys fit specially coded locks that we use in our self-bondage fun when I want Monica to find me and take control. I did have a safety key that worked on the locks, of course, that I use for emergencies but the price would be high if I had to use it and of course Monica would know immediately now if it's used.
I'm sure Monica knows what's about to happen when she arrives home. We've been playing these games too long for her not to understand the significance of those keys. She doesn't know, however how permanently I wanted to make the commitment. Thus, the new piercings that I continued to play with.
It was now 5:30 p.m. and time to begin the final steps. Monica said that she would call from the airport and let the phone ring twice, hang up, then call back immediately and let it ring twice more. That way I knew that she had landed and was on her way to the ranch. I would wait until I had heard the second phone call to complete the final steps of my bondage. She also said that she'd continue to call and let the phone ring once using her cellular phone as she traveled en route to the ranch. That way I knew she didn't get into an accident during the trip home. With what I had planned for my self-bondage, being alone all night would not be something to look forward.
As a one last safety mechanism, prelude to any self-bondage adventure, I called a mutual girlfriend of Monica and me, Brenda, and asked her to call me at Monica's in the morning. I told her that if no one answered, then would she mind stopping by before noon to check the horses for me. I would leave a note on the door telling her where I was and when I was to return. Brenda agreed and I hung up the phone. I pulled the note from my purse that I had written last night. The note would really tell Brenda that I was in the bedroom and needed help with my restraints and that I would be her slave for the rest of the weekend if she let me out of my self-imposed bondage. Since she was also a close friend and sometimes bondage partner of Monica, she knew where the spare key to the front door was kept. Monica knew to take the note down when she arrived. Hopefully she'll do just what the note had asked Brenda to do.
I was now all set. If all things go wrong, I would only be tied up for about fifteen hours at the most but the thought of how I was going to be tied sent a chill down my spine. Fifteen hours would seem like forever. Luckily I had slept late the morning in anticipation for a long evening.
I finished my glass and got up to put away the bottle of wine and noticed that there was some fresh leftover food in the refrigerator. Monica had mentioned that she had a new housesitter and not to worry about the place for this weekend. I knew that she did have some workers who took care of her horses and the grounds a few days each week. They were, however, off for the next several days since I had volunteered to take care of the things for her. I shrugged, picked up my gloves and started toward the bedroom, not thinking any more about the food. I'm sure I'd remember to ask Monica about the food later that night, assuming I was ungagged long enough to ask anything.
I had been planning this weekend's bondage adventure for the last several weeks and the time to finish the final act was quickly approaching. With each step I took toward the bedroom, slow and calculated, due to the stiffness of the boots and the height of the heels, the memories of the past four months were all coming back to me. The feeling of fullness in my mouth from all the different gags, the tightness of the ropes, cuffs and straps, the erotic sting from the piercer's needle and of course, the waiting and longing for release both from the bondage and the always mounting sexual tension.
It was as if it was yesterday when I was driving to Monica's ranch to pick her up and take her to the airport, it is all still clear in my mind. . . . . . .
