Business Weekend - free selfbondage story


free rope bondage free selfbondage stories

The sun's shinning, it's warm and breezy, perfect walking weather. And where am I? Stuck in a bag, bound and gagged. Only I did this to myself. This business trip gave me the perfect chance to get away from the rush of the office. Working for an investigation firm can be rough at times, although it's mostly sifting through data. I got sent over here for a couple of days to check on the financial records on this guy owing child support payments for the last 5 months. He's disappeared, but by having some banks check his records and transactions, hopefully it'll give us an idea of where to look. I arrived yesterday, checked with the banks today, and am now waiting to hear back from them. It'll take them at least a day to pull up all records of this guy, check other accounts on his cards, etc. I could've done this back home, but they wanted someone to argue with aparently, so I was sent.

So with everything taken care of, all that was left to wait. I had the whole afternoon to myself otherwise, so I decided to have some self-bondage fun. I went to an adult store on the way back. They pretty much catered to the bondage market, everything from toys to videos and books. An interesting sight I probably made, a businesswoman walking into an adult store on a Thursday morning. I've brought back something from every business trip I've taken, and this was going to be no exception.

I saw the bag near the back with bodybags and other mummification stuff. I probably should have gotten all of my stuff here, their duct tape was cheaper and came in different colors. The bag was on sale, even though 'sale' was over $120. It was fairly big, I could probably fit if I didn't stand up in it. It felt like nylon, but it wasn't quite it. The saleswoman, a rather good looking saleswoman who actually couldn't be more than 25, stopped doing inventory and came to ask if I wanted anything. I asked about the bag. "The material is a lot like nylon actually" she said. She ran her fingers over the material to illustrate. "It's actually thicker than nylon, and a bit stronger. It's very hard to tear, unless you take a knife to it. It's very dark once your sub is inside, but breathing is no problem, it's not so thick or tightly woven to not let air pass freely through it. It only comes in black so far, but we can add additional features onto it. We can sew pockets or buckles onto it if you'd like, but that would take us about a day. The drawstring can also be replaced with something like a chain, or we can add a zipper with a lock. We can customize the fit, but that will also require a deposit and at least a day's notice. We make them here, the material is expensive though, hence it's price. I have a model that is suspensive capable, but I need to know your sub's weight." I looked at her and smiled. "I am my own sub."
"Oh, so you're into the self-bondage thing. I see. It is possible to get out from the inside with the basic model."
I didn't believe her at first. "You can. I've done it."

She persuaded me to follow her to the back room. Another co-worker, a guy, came from behind to watch the store. She introduced herself as Katrina, and said she was also into the SB scene. She had designed the bag as an experiment for herself, but then decided to market it. She used nylon on her own, but switched to this gortex-like material later on. The back room was at least as large as the front, if not bigger, but no carpet, just a bare floor. Boxes lined the walls, some company names I recognized, mostly gear. An untidy desk sat against one otherwise empty wall. Although I did notice the pink flyers for the store, and blue ones with something entirely different. "Don't be a victim, self defence is for everyone." Katrina's name was on the bottom. "Yeah, that's me" Katrina said. "I teach a self defence class for women twice a week. Anyone's welcome." I told her I was from out of town. "Well, if you're in town tonight, we're at ..." and she gave me a card with more info. If everything went right, I'd be tied up when the class started.


Katrina rolled out a piece of old carpet mat on the floor. She went over to some of the boxes, and came back with one of her bags, and two pairs of cuffs, both leather. "Let me show you how I do this." Katrina opened up the bag, setting it on the mat. She stood inside it, and cuffed her ankles together. "Let's say you end up hogtied inside. First, tie yourself up except for your arms, then you can pull the bag over yourself. "She kneeled down, and brought the ends of the bag over her head, smiling all the way. "Now, you take the drawstrings, "she did, "pull them inside with you to tie off." The was more movement inside the bag as she tied off the drawstring, and then lay down. "Now, from here, you just clip on the cuffs and you're all
set." Katrina was obviously lying on her front, from the form inside the bag. "Now", she continued, "obviously, if you've left the key outside, you'll have to escape the bag first. Obviously, the hood is near my head, what you have to do is roll onto your side..." She shook from side to side until she toppled onto one side. "And from here, you wiggle your way like a worm. Flex and contract to bring the bag towards you, then relax and grab again. It's easier if you have the use of your hands, but it'll just be more difficult otherwise, but you'll still be able to escape." I watched as this cute young thing wiggled her way around in this bag. I watched closely, and the bag was indeed rotating underneath her, and slowly, the openning was moving towards where her wrists were. Once that was realized, I turned my attention to how turned on this was making me.

Eventually, the openning was close enough to Katrina's hands. "Now, from here it's a simple matter to reach around and open the drawstring." Her hands fumbled around the strings, but eventually, they appeared, and the opening widenned. " From there, wiggle your way around again, until your legs are facing the openning, and then start pushing until you're out." Her knees arrpeared first after more wiggling around. Then her legs, wrists and feet, body, and then she got her head up and shook the bag off. She looked quite flustered, her hair all dishevelled, her face flushed. As a matter of fact, I could quite clearly see her nipples poking through her shirt, and she wasn't wearing a bra either.
"Aw shoot" Katrina said. "Could you pass me those keys? They're over on the desk." I smiled and she giggled. It wasn't until I released her that I smelt the arousal. She must have been in that bag for just over ten minutes, but she was turned on as ever. I thought about the bag for a second while she composed herself and put everything away.

There was a bag in stock with the option for a lock on the bag that I got. I figured, when I got good enough, I could lock the bag on with enough room for me to stick my hands out and retrive the key. No other options, though I did grab a length of thin chain and a lock for myself later. On my recept though, Katrina wrote down 3-9. I asked her what that meant.
"It's what time I'll be on tomorrow. I'm hoping you'll come by and tell me about your experience. For... notes on how to improve it." I wasted no time when I got back to my apartment. The door was locked and a 'No Disturb sign was hung.' The shades were shut, and all windows were closed and locked. Not that that would have mattered, I'm on the fourth floor, but to be safe.

I stuck the keys to my release in a little box with a timer. It's a toy I picked up, I can set it for a certain amount of time before the box unlocks itself and I can open it. And I can't break it, it's made of metal and aluminum. It was expensive, but has a outlet plug and a backup battery. The outlet of cource for a set amount of time, but the battery serves as a backup.
As a precaution, when the battery goes low, or should it kick in when it's not suppoed to, it automatically unlocks. I've used that option once, letting the battery run out. But that wasn't my fault, so what if I set it for 20:00 hours instead of 2:00 hours. Besides, although I panicked at first, what great memories afterwards. I really thought I wouldn't get out and was trying everything, even tried pulling the phone off the hook and calling for help. But then I couldn't reach the line.

With my escape safely on the floor, the timer set for 2 hours, thirty minutes, I set the emergency release for four hours, I immediately undressed down to bra and panties. I prefered it that way, sexier I guess. Although I thought I might use the tape, I decided to Tie my ankles with the ropes. But I did use a leather strap on my thighs, and this one I locked on, and roped my calves as well. A variety of helplessness. Sometimes it's fun to experiment, especially if I can release some of my bonds, but need keys to release others. Anyways, with that done, I took a wad of cloth I had prepared earlier, and knotted it at the middle, twice actually, forming one large wad with two ends. I stuffed the knot in my mouth, then wrapped the two ends around my head, tying it off at the back, but none too tightly. It is only there to keep the gag in my mouth rather than my throat. I took the duct tape, and peeled off three strips of the sticky material to strap over my mouth, running from cheek to cheek, nose to chin. This way, my mouth will stay closed tightly over the gag, but the cloth will keep it from choking me. A few experimental calls proved just how well I was now gagged.

Now, I took the two leather wrist straps. They both had a ring on them, which I positionned on the inside of my right wrist, and the outside of my left wrist. I let a locking clip hang on one of the rings, this I would use to finish binding my wrists. I thought about using a chain to hogtie myself, but didn't want to go too, too, far on this first try. Taking one last look at the clock on the release, I took the bag, pulled it up my legs to encase me in it's dark, warm confines, pulling up farther still over my chest. I had to lift myself up a bit to pull the bag up that far, but no problem. Then, I finally pulled it up over my head.
I pulled the drawstring in behind me too, pulling the bag closed tightly behind me, and knotting the drawstring in a slip knot. I figured that'd be the safest since I couldn't cut through this tie with a nearby knife if I really had to. Then I scooted a little deeper into the bag. Now came the moment of truth. I took a moment to knead my breasts, my nipples hard from the excitement. I took my other hand to my cunt, rubbing gently at my clit, feeling the moisture soaking my panties. I stopped though, when I started to really enjoy the sensations. I wanted to feel the helplessness I always felt when bound and unable to escape.

Quickly now, I lay on my side, and fumbled around for the ring and locks. Finding it, I slipped the ring into the lock and quickly snapped it shut. "Mmmmphhh!" I cried out. I loved the first feelings of capture. Stuck helpless, unable to call for help, unable to move, all by my own hand. I couldn't see because of the bag, and the bag itself was feeling soft and smooth against my bare, bound body. I pulled at my wrists, and useless as they were. I kicked at my feet, also useless. I rolled around, the bag clinging to my sweaty form. I fantasized about my situation. Kidnapped and held for ransom. Bound helplessly and left alone for storage while my captors grabbed my ransom money. I waited to be found. I struggled uselessly, alone, trapped in this dark prison. How long had they held me here? Would they come back for me? Was I to be rescued, or left bound and alone? Maybe my rescuers had already delivered the money, and were now searching for me. I called out into my gag, but obviously no one heard me. I doubted my cries for help got past the bag, but I so long the sound of my own gagged voice. "Hmmemmm" was all I heard. What a sight I must be. This mass of nylon, rolling around the floor, occasionally catching a glimpse of a limb. I wish I had brought a camera, I could watch myself later. I had done so before, had tied myself in front of the TV, watching a movie of myself struggling helplessly.


I'm so turned on. I tried reaching around and managed to grab at my breast with my cuffed hands. The other was crushed beneath me into the smooth nylon. My desperate calls for help had long since turned into low erotic moaning. I curled my legs behind me, almost like a hogtie. I could reach down towards my hips, and fingered myself. I could almost thrust a finger in, but didn't have enough reach. I rubbed my clit fiercely, pressing my hips into the air, my breasts into the floor. I swung my hips in the air, rubbing my nipples, hard with the excitement, into the softness of the bag. My hips rocked back at an imaginary lover, he thrusted into my helpless cunt. I whimpered, and finally, pinched my clit firmly as an orgasm finally took me. I collapsed into a heap, as if I wasn't one already. I panted into my gag, moaning softly to myself and stretching out. I actually could stretch out full length in the sack too. I lay there on my front for several moments, softly rocking back and forth, feeling the soft feel of the nylon. This really is new, I wondered if this is what mummification entheusiasts feel like.

I thought about what new innovations I could use in this. I thought about using a hogtie next time. How difficult would it be to get out of the bag in a hogtie? I figured, it would take some time. As it stands, I can use my legs to push foreward out of the sack. In a hogtie, I'd have to use my knees. What about a balltie? God, I wouldn't be able to get out at all. NO leverage whatsoever. Hmm. Possible though. I could run a length of rope around my back and under my thighs. Another rope from my hands to my ankles and I'd be really stuck. Actually, in that case, I really wouldn't have to escape the bag first. I could have a set of keys or a knife outside the bag that I'd have to get to, and just open the sack and reach out to get it. That wouldn't be too bad. Maybe not a knife though. But just having to reach out would be fine. I could use more stringent bondage and still be able to escape. But it would take more practice, I wouldn't be able to do it on command.

I wondered what it would be like to be bound from the outside of the bag. To have someone bind ropes around me while I was in the sack. Hmm. Or what if I slipped on the handcuffs from the outside of the sack? If I made a pocket of the nylon, and locked on the handcuff around my wrist in the pocket. My hands would be stuck in little nylon pockets, held there by the handcuffs. I'd still be bound, and stuck, but could free my hands without leaving the sack. And would be bound within it indefinetly until release. Hmm. :-)

And I never thought about suspension, but to be bound in the sack, hanging from the ceiling, rotating slowly with my struggles. Ropes around me, two pockets of nylon binding my hands to the sack, , while I struggled inside in the darkness. I was moaning again. I don't know for how long, all those thoughts kept me wet between my legs. I tried saying "Let me go", but a muffled "Mme mo" was all that came out. My fantasies changed again. No longer was I a kidnapped innocent, bound against my will. I was me, just me. Bound by my own hands, in a sack. I just moaned into my gag, no words, just to hear my own voice. My own erotic noises muffled by layers of cloth and tape. I struggled against my bondage, not because I wanted release, but because I wanted to. Because I love being helpless, I want to struggle and not get free.

Somehow I heard the beeping of the alarm for the release box. I realized I must have fallen asleep, after another orgasm I think. Wow, two hours gone by already, it felt like maybe only a half hour. I really do have to stop doing that. Seems to happen every so often when I'm lying down in my bondage. Right now, the safebox has unlocked itself, and the door is open. The key is sitting inside like a pot of gold. Ok then, first get out of the bag. I looked around the inside and stopped the opening, with a tiny spot of light in the centre. In front of me, so now I have to wiggle about and get my hands on the opening, pull it open and slide out. Well, I wasn't hogtied, so that was going to make it easier. And it really was. I folded my legs up and rolled a bit, and pushed out, and then folded and flexed again, and already my hands were opening the bag. Easy enough. More flexing and twisting, and my feet poked through the opening. I lay on my back, brought my feet up to my knees, lifted up on my wrists, and pushed myself towards the opening.. The bag stayed where it was because of my hands, and I slowly moved out of the bag. At least until it was only my upper chest and head inside, and then just jifted myself up into a sitting position, and shook my head until the bag dropped.

Wow, stuffy in there. I really am a mess, my hair's all frazzled, I probably left a stain on the inside of the bag. Oh well. I look around at my surroundings, get my bearing, and wiggle the few feet over to the safe, it's door already open. A few clicks on the locks, and I'm free - and in need of a shower. All in all, not a bad experience, I thought to myself. I turned the bag inside out and wiped out the insides with a damp cloth, and let it air dry. But my new ideas for self-bondage took a turn for the better. I slept pretty well that night. The next morning, I couldn't wait and tried cuffing my hand inside a nylon pocket of the bag. It wasn't secure, but I certainly couldn't use my fingers very well. If I tightenned, there wouldn't be any slack, but then I couldn't use my fingers to get out at all. Very restrictive, but I'd have to leave some slack in the bag and then tighten the cuffs. That wouldn't be a bad idea. I was having thoughts of my hands cuffed behind me within nylon pockets. Mmmmm.

I checked back at the bank, and the office. The bank wasn't having much luck tracking this guy's papers, and the office was pretty quiet back home. After a conference call, it was agreed upon that I would stay here for the weekend, and on Monday the bank might have more luck. Some poor bank manager was going to be working overtime, and I had a weekend off to myself. Somewhere between 3 and 9 o'clock, I stopped back at the bondage store. Katrina was there, initially busy, so I browsed around until she was free.
"What did you think of it?" She asked.
"Very nice. You do that to yourself on a regular basis?" I replied.
"Yep. Still coming up with new variations too."
"Really? Ever come up with one for suspension?"

Later that night, long after nine o'clock when the store was closed, the doors locked and barred, then metal covers pulled through, the external alarms set and all secured, a nylon sack rolled around the floor of the back room. I lay within it, along with Katrina. We lay within, bound seperately with everything that locked, borrowed from the store. We used leather cuffs and straps where needed, cuffs on your ankles and wrists, harness gags, vibrators, collars with chains to each other's collar. I had my wrists cuffed behind me to a waist belt, with chastity strap holding a vibrator in place. The harness gag was pulled tight into my mouth, with the lower strap pulling my chin up around the ball. Leather straps would around my thighs, and even two more above and below my breasts. Additionally, a ran a chain from my ankle cuffs to my waist, keeping me in a loose hogtie. Katrina was bound at the ankles, knees, thighs, chest, and wrists to her waist belt. A similar waist belt and vibrator kept her squirming and moaning as much as me. But she didn't have a hogtie chain, so she could stretch out completely. We were also both nude, our escape keys lay outside the bag we both lay in, hanging from a timer set for after midnight. We had already spent a while bound up and helpless, and spent the whole time enjoying ourselves.

In the confines of the bag, we were constantly in contact with each other. It was a wonderful feeling, being bound so helplessly and so close to another prisoner. We felt so close to each other, it's hard not to when your escape is over an hour away and you're stuck in a nylon bag with her. But what a fun time. We pulled and strained and struggled all night. The vibrators were so distracting, trying to struggle with them buzzing away within us. The smell of our arousal wasn't dong us any good either, although at one point, Katrina was on her back, and I rolled over on top of her. I wiggled around, pulled on the hogtie chain, bringing my feet closer, and wiggled around on top of Katrina. She had an orgasm right there while I rode her. It was wonderful.

And that was just the beginning.
We had the rest of the weekend to ourselves...



BONDAGE PICTURES

eXTReMe Tracker
SURF IN STYLE... THE SEX TRACKER!
^ TO TOP