More than SJ bondage story | straps tied, chair
I was very young for my age; that means that, although I was fast developing as a girl, I had not lived overmuch and was what is called innocent. I had gone to live with my aunt and uncle and their son, my cousin, Jake. Jake was a big fellah and very old... all of twenty-three.
My real education began one weekend when my new guardians had been obliged to leave for a long weekend; something to do with uncle's business. If I was told the reason then I had failed to pay attention. It was left to Jake to take care of me and, let it be said, he did a very good job. There was absolutely no way that I could have got into any kind of trouble... as it turned out.
Jake tends to lie in bed of a morning whereas I awake and go straight into top gear thus it happened that I took in the post and found a parcel addressed to myself. Well, it was addressed to Miss J. Welden and in a household wherein I was the only unmarried female, who else could that be? So I sat right down and opened it.
Inside I found what appeared to be some kind of corset. It was a black tapered tube made of some kind of obviously strong material with a whole string of small straps down its length. There were several other straps attached to it as well but, for the life of me, I could make little sense of it. My speculations were interrupted by a cold and angry voice:
"What the blazes... do you usually open other people's mail?"
"It's not your mail. It's quite clearly addressed to me. But I've no idea what it is and even less idea of who could have sent it."
He picked up the wrapper and then suddenly burst into laughter: "Seems like I owe you an apology, Tich. It's been addressed wrongly."
"Don't call me Tich. But it's no use to me so you're welcome to it. But if it's yours then what on earth is it?
"Umm... yes. I think you're maybe too young to want the answer to that," and he began to gather it up.
"Huh. Sounds as though you should be ashamed of yourself. I've caught you out in some dirty business. So much for good ole Jake."
"Look, " he began. But then he returned to the table and put the heap down. "It's nothing to be ashamed of at all but... er... I don't think you would understand... "
"I'm not too young to know the difference between KNOW and UNDERSTAND. Why don't you try me? I'll not squeal on you."
He looked at me for what seemed an age then: "OK. Let's see if you deserve not to be called Tich. This is called bondage gear; know what that means?"
"Not a clue."
"Just what I thought. But you do know what sexual intercourse is... usually today just called sex?"
"Yeah. Sure."
"Well. Some people... a lot of people... me included... get a bigger buzz from it when they are either tied up or tying-up somebody else. And it doesn't HAVE to involve actual sex."
"Sounds daft to me ... but I'll take your word for it."
"That's it then."
"But you still haven't told me what that lot is."
"It's called either an arm-binder or a single-sleeve. It's used to tie a woman's arms behind her so that she can't escape."
"Why a woman? Don't men...?"
"Yeah, some do. But this one's too small. It's made to fit a girl."
"Who are you going to tie up with it?"
"You ARE a nosey one, aren't you? For your information I've got a girlfriend who likes to be tied. I can try it on you if you really want to know."
He looked at me rather expectantly and I was feeling a bit odd down in my gut. But: "I'm not so sure about the sex bit."
"No way. Not a chance in hell you'll get sex with me. Even if you are of legal age... I'm supposed to be looking after you."
"Well. You could at least show me."
He unpacked it again and held it up. "Your arms go in there and these straps pull it up to fit. These go over the shoulders and prevent it from sliding off. When put on properly it isn't possible to escape."
I didn't realise it then although I do now ... I was hooked. I took it from him and examined it anew. Then I slid one arm through the sleeve and discovered that it wouldn't come out at the other end. Then I found the steel ring. I was about to try the other arm as well when he interrupted:
"No. It goes on behind you."
He moved my arm and the sleeve around to my back and then guided the other arm into it. Then he fixed it there by slipping the shoulder straps into place and pulling them loosely into position. "You want I should finish it?"
"I'd like to feel what it's like but..."
"Don't worry. Just say when you've had enough and then you can get the breakfast." He pulled straps in quick succession and I felt the thing tightening around my arms, pulling them together. He took up the shoulder straps and then went back to those around my arms. In no time, it seemed, I had my arms glued together from wrist to elbow. And that feeling in my gut was building. Finally he passed another strap around my hips; when he pulled that tight my arms wouldn't move anywhere at all. He walked around me testing a strap here and tightening a buckle there. Then: "Well, I'm hungry. Need some breakfast." And he walked out of the room leaving me standing there. It didn't take long for me to realise that I was completely helpless.
After a brief struggle I gave up and followed him to the kitchen. "Aren't you going to let me out? I'm hungry too... and I can't eat like this."
He turned to me and there was a small grin on his face; I noticed that he had, in fact, laid breakfast for two. "What had enough already? You've not been strapped in that for five minutes yet."
"How long am I supposed to stay like this?"
"Never heard of a set time. Seeing that there's nothing you can do about it at all... it's surely up to me when you get let out?"
Rubbing in my helplessness like that did something to me and I curled my lower lip between my teeth. "To be honest... I don't object to... er... being tied up like this... but I DO want some breakfast."
"Oh, if that's all then there's a simple solution." He pulled out a chair, turned it round and pushed me on to it astride. "Hang on a minute." He went to one of the lower cupboards and came back with a ball of heavy string. He tied the end to my right ankle, passed it behind the back legs of the chair and then tied it off to my other leg. Then he took it under the chair and tied it to the ring in the end of the single glove. That was how I got to know that there was depth to the term "being helpless".
I sat there with my chin resting on the chair-back while I watched him finish preparing the food. I still didn't see how I was going to eat it but Jake was planning to pass on some of his bondage experience. As you no doubt guess he fed me mouthful by mouthful and we had a hilarious time.
Breakfast over, he left me there tied to the chair, my arms totally non-existent in the sleeve, while he cleared and washed the dishes. He had to do a pretty thorough job on the table too - between us we had made quite a mess. When he had finally got things under control he came back to me and, of course, I expected to be set free. Expected - but with a touch of regret. But Jake knew things about bondage and was no slouch where the female was involved.
He untied my feet and let the string run through the chair but made no move whatever to get me out of that sleeve. He then simply left and went upstairs. After a while, and feeling slightly aggrieved, I followed and found him in his bedroom making his bed. "What about me?"
"What about you?"
"Well, you'll have to undo me."
"Look," he said with unnecessary aggressiveness I thought. "I went to a lot of trouble to put you in that and had to delay my breakfast. Now it's up to you to undo it."
"But Jake... I can't. I can't even move my arms let alone undo all those straps."
"Tough!"
I couldn't believe it. "Jake," I wailed.
"Look. I can't put up with you miserying around the place all day. If you can't shed that thing then just put up with it." He opened a cupboard and came toward me with something in his hand. In but a few more seconds I learned the purpose of a ball-gag. Please don't get the wrong impression from all this. Jake was a responsible person and he handled me with such gentleness that never for a moment was I frightened. But I began to feel again that odd feeling, deep down, somewhere in my stomach.
He only left the gag in for about ten minutes - I didn't even learn on that occasion that to wear one meant uncontrollable dribbling. He removed it, lifted my chin and enquired: "You all right, toots?"
I just nodded. I didn't understand myself. "Now," he said, "it's entirely up to you. Do you really want me to take that thing off you or do you... you look as though you'd like to keep it for a while?"
"Does it do anything else?"
"The only limit is imagination," he replied. "Here, lie down." He helped me down and then rolled me on to my tum, seized the string that still trailed from the ring at the binder's end and demonstrated what a hog-tie feels like. "You can't stay in that more than a few minutes," he declared. String is too small, it will cut and bruise you and, anyway, you've just eaten. Can you imagine what it would be like if I really pulled it tight so that your hands and feet were tied together?"
It was all too new and I was relieved that he immediately released my feet. But I stayed in that single-sleeve for the rest of the morning, then he fed my lunch to me and I stayed bound all through the afternoon. Eventually he insisted that the game should stop. "You're remarkably flexible, Josie, " he said. "Like rubber. But enough is enough."
"Will you let me try it again, sometime. Like tomorrow?"
"Huh! You like, do you? Well I don't want to be deceiving but you had better not let Mum and Dad know of this. They'd tear my head off if they found out I'd been doing bondage on you. You can wear it again tomorrow - or perhaps the next day - but that must be it until you're older."
"Why should they object? We haven't done anything wrong. Have we?"
"To tell the truth, Josie... No, we haven't done anything wrong but you'll find that many people think it is wrong. And when you are under-age it becomes even more wrong. Doesn't make sense to me but... that's the way it is and we must follow the leader. OK?"
Of course I understand now and I admire Jake all the more for his control. But on that day he set the course for what you might call my true future happiness. Today Jake is part of our threesome; his girlfriend departed but I, for one, hope that he'll soon find another. It would be such fun to be four once again.
