Plastic - free selfbondage story


free rope bondage free selfbondage stories

I was sitting down for a moment’s rest having finally got the boxes of kitchen stuff emptied into my new kitchen. The work had been tiring and messy and although all my food, appliances and flatware was now neatly stored away in various cupboards and drawers, the floor was still littered with packing materials.

Idly pushing a torn piece of plastic wrap with my foot as I sat there getting my breath back, I wondered if the wrap would make a good bondage material. The web was full of pictures of girls tied up in plastic wrap but I struggled to see a way to use this method of bondage without help.

Then a large piece of heavy duty plastic sheeting caught my eye and I thought of vacuum beds. I could make one of those; I just needed the right bits. So I leapt to my feet and started an inventory of the various packaging materials I had acquired as part of moving house.

I managed to find an intact sheet of clear plastic about six and a half feet square and a couple of rolls of brown parcel tape. They would do fine but I would need more bits to make this work.

It looked like I would be making another trip out to my local Home Depot which was luckily even closer to my new house and I returned with a selection of thin PVC waste pipe and junction bits and a digital timer that would switch the AC on and off to order.

Cutting the pipe into two six foot and two three feet lengths, I drilled a line of holes along all the lengths with a small drill and connected the whole lot into a rectangle using the corner pieces, making sure the holes were on the inside of the rectangle. I laid the plastic sheet out in my still unpacked living room and placed the pipe framework on top of it. Folding the plastic in two I used tape to seal the plastic into a bag so that the two sides and bottom of the bag were fairly tight about the pipe rectangle. I’d left an opening along the top edge of the bag that extended about nine inches beyond the top of the frame. I checked I could use this opening to slip in and out of the bag.

The bag was almost finished I just needed a method of sealing myself into the bag, some way of removing the air and a way to ensure I could breathe.

The first of these problems was solved by cutting another length of pipe and using it to roll up the excess plastic at the opening from the inside. Once the roll was tight and the bag was airtight, I used tape to stick it into place. I could easily release myself by pulling off the tape and unrolling the pipe to free the bag opening. Well, easily once the vacuum pressure was released.

I’d planned to use my old vacuum cleaner to remove the air from the bag but realized that I’d forgotten to leave a way to connect the vacuum hose to the tubing inside the bag. I had to replace one of the corner pieces with a T-junction and make a hole in the bag so that one of the arms of the ‘T’ would be accessible from the outside.

Once I’d sealed the bag up around the hole I’d made, I decided to give the setup a trial run. I pushed the end of the vacuum hose into end of the protruding T-junction, threw a couple of cushions into the middle of the bag and sealed them in there with the tape.

Switching on the vacuum revealed a couple of things. The vacuum would quickly overheat; I cured this by opening up the vacuum and removing the dust bag and I obviously hadn’t done a very good job of sealing the bag with the tape, especially around the hole I had earlier made.

After several attempts I worked out that brown parcel tape is not completely airtight and I had to make another trip to Home Depot to replenish my supply of Duck tape. It’s already become like a second home to me and I wondered how many more trips it would take before my car was able to find its own way there. Anyway the Duck tape seemed to do the job so I tested out my setup again and was delighted to see the cushions almost instantly crushed to a fraction of their former size.



On my second trip of the day to Home Depot I’d also been on the lookout for something that would serve as a breathing tube and found a short length of flexible hosing that at two inches outside diameter would also act as an effective gag. I lay on the top of the plastic sheet and marked where my mouth would be. Then I cut a small hole there and taped the tube in place, leaving about two and a half inches of it protruding into the bag.

I climbed inside the bag and checked that the breathing tube was in the right place. I reached up and practiced rolling up the bag opening with the piece of pipe and lay there imagining myself trapped in this bag unable to move; like a fly caught in amber.

Never mind imagining it, it was time to try this out for real. I’d already had a busy day and I thought maybe I should wait until I was more rested but then again what better rest than being forced into complete immovability. This would most likely be the most immovable bondage I had ever put myself into.

I’d already checked that the timer worked and that multiple on and off times could be set in one minute increments up to twenty-four hours. I decided to play safe for the first attempt and set the timer to come on in ten minutes time, giving me plenty of time to get inside the bag and get myself ready. It would stay on for just two minutes. Long enough to see what it felt like and to test the bag. If something went wrong with the breathing tube (the greatest danger) or the pressure prevented me from breathing, I reckoned I could easily hold my breath for that long. Once the two minutes were up the bag would re-inflate and I gave myself five minutes of time to affect my escape, if necessary, before the vacuum started again. The second time the vacuum switched on it would trap me for a further fifteen minutes. That seemed like a good test for a first installment.

The timer could also be switched to random on and off times, presumably to allow you to connect a light that would act as a deterrent to thieves, and I wondered if I would ever have the nerve to use that setting.

Stripping off my clothes I climbed back into the bag for the final test. The plastic was cold against my skin but I guessed it would soon warm up. After all, I felt like someone had lit a furnace inside me; I hadn’t been this excited about trying out a new bondage experience for a long time.

Kneeling inside the bag I pushed the top of the bag up into the air with my back to trap as much fresh air in there as possible and reached up to fasten the opening using the spare piece of plastic pipe. Pushing the remainder of the roll of tape I’d used to seal the entrance into the top corner of the bag, I turned over and lay on my back and fed the breathing tube into my mouth. I had to open my mouth really wide to fit the tube in and I pushed it down my throat until my lips were touching the tape around the hole where it entered the bag.

Andreabound in Plastic – Part Two

I lay there waiting for the timer to start. Ten minutes seems like an eternity when you’re just lying there waiting for something to happen. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with my hands. Should they be down at my sides and slightly out to edges of the bag? Or up at the sides of my head? I couldn’t remember what the girls in the pictures were doing with their hands. I kept changing positions trying to work out what felt best.

In the end the decision was taken away from me as without warning the vacuum started and the air from the bag was evacuated via the holes in the pipes. Wow! That was fast. Before I could change my mind my hands were pinned to my sides and I was caught in the most rigid position that I’d ever found myself in.

The bag was really tight. Every part of my body felt compressed. But despite my worst worries, though the plastic pressed firmly on my chest, enough to flatten my breasts, I had no difficulty in breathing.

One thing I hadn’t counted on was the sheer noise of the experience. The whistling of the air through the holes in the plastic pipes and the whine of the overworked vacuum was quite overwhelming.

Almost as soon as it had started the experience was over; the timer followed its programming to the letter and two minutes later switched off the power to my vacuum cleaner.

I lay there sure I was ready for another go, just waiting for the timer to kick in again but then I decided I wanted to take the experience further and so I broke the seal on the bag and climbed out.

Just in time as it turned out, because I was crawling out of the bag with one foot still inside when the timer clicked in again and the vacuum unsuccessfully tried to empty the now open bag of air.

I quickly switched off the vacuum cleaner and felt around the motor area to see if it was starting to overheat. The motor did seem a little warm but it wasn’t any worse than during normal use so I thought it would have happily carried on evacuating air for at least a couple of hours before complaining. The vacuum overheating and starting a fire had been another of my worries but the timer had a cutout built into it and there was a thermal cutout built into the vacuum itself so I wasn’t too concerned.

Resisting the urge to simply climb back into the bag and continue with the experience that I felt I had not yet completed, and as unhappy as I was in my tired state to start rummaging through the half unpacked boxes that littered my new house, I decided the if I was going to be trapped in plastic I was going to do it properly.

If I was going to spend an extended time trapped between layers of plastic I had to have a fantasy for my mind to dwell on. The other thing I had realized in the short time I was in the bag, was that I could have used my long nails to pierce the plastic sheet beneath me and let enough air in to possibly move my arms and gain early release. I would have to find a way to prevent that.

But what possible scenario could I dream up that would leave me pinned between two sheets of thick clear plastic? Then I had it. So I opened a couple more boxes and retrieved the items I would need for my scene.

First I pulled on a pair of fish-net stockings and pulled them up to my thighs. A push-up bra and an old torn black sleeveless top that revealed more than it covered were next. I found a short PVC skirt that barely covered the tops of my stockings and slipped on my patent pumps with five inch heels. My elbow-length PVC gloves were put aside for later. Propping a mirror up against a large packing box, I used it to plaster on far more make-up than I would ever normally use. A thick layer of pale foundation was followed by the application of thick eyeliner and dark blue eye-shadow. An abundance of blusher and bright red lipstick were next, completing my transformation into a lady of ill repute. I checked my appearance in the mirror. No not quite right yet; so I used gel to spike up my hair. That was better; I wouldn’t look out of place standing on any down town street corner. I fastened a chain around my waist, inserted some earplugs, grabbed my handcuffs and headed back towards the vacuum bed.

This time I set the timer to come on in five minutes and stay on for one hour. Then it would switch off for two minutes before starting up again for another hour. I set this cycle to repeat five times; the maximum the timer would allow for one day.

Climbing into the bag I sealed up the entrance as before, swallowed the breathing tube and got myself comfortable before slipping in my largest vibrator, closing the handcuffs around my wrists and using a combination lock to attach the cuffs to the chain around my waist.

When the vacuum burst into life, I found myself again sucked into a completely immobile state and knew I would be held there for the next hour. Once the hour was up I would have two minutes in which to try and find the combination to the lock that kept my hands down at my waist and prevented me from using them to open the bag and escape. I wouldn’t be able to see the combination on the lock without moving my head which would carry a real risk of dislodging my breathing tube. If this happened whilst my hands were still locked, I wouldn’t be able to get the tube back into my mouth before the timer came back on. This meant that once in every hour for the next five hours I would have a two minute window in which I could work the lock and earn release. I might get lucky and find the combination first time in which case I would only spend the next hour in my vacuum bed or I might be unlucky and spend the best part of the night in here. That would be a real ordeal; one which I hadn’t tested before but the very thought of the possibility of being trapped here overnight was getting me wet down below.

Andreabound in Plastic – Part Three



Once the vacuum took hold of me I had time to contemplate my position. I imagined how I might have ended up here, trapped in this alien cocoon. Last thing I remembered was leaning down into a car window to proposition the driver. I knew I looked hot in my micro-mini skirt and heels and was rarely turned down by the men who slowed down as they passed my street corner looking for a good time. This would be my first session of the night and I was eager to get started. Perhaps that’s why I wasn’t as careful as I should have been and, before I knew it, I was staring at a detective’s badge instead of the eager face of a potential client. If the cops bothered us at all it was usually to arrest our clients and sometimes to tell us girls to move on. Tonight though, I found myself cuffed and going for a ride in the back of an unmarked police cruiser. Was I part of a clampdown on prostitution in this part of the city or was I just the chosen victim of a cop cashing in on one of the perks of his job?

I realized it was the latter when we pulled into a deserted alleyway and he pulled me roughly from the back seat and pushed me up against the wall. I had wanted to tell him he didn’t need to be so rough. If he needed a favor so he would leave us alone, all he needed to do was ask nicely. We all knew the score and freebies to keep the local law enforcement happy went with the territory so I knew better than to make a fuss. This guy was being a little too rough though and I decided to tell him so. I had opened my mouth to complain but he just pushed me to my knees and opened his pants and so I found my open mouth round his member and not able to complain at all. He was still clutching my hair in his fingers, holding my head immobile, and I guessed I would just have to put up with this treatment so I could get it over with and get back to the real business of the night.

It was then that the most incredible thing ever, happened. One minute I was kneeling in front of a cop giving him the benefit of my oral expertise and the next he just wasn’t there. I found my mouth wrapped around nothing where a second before his penis had filled my mouth. I was too amazed to even close my mouth and before I could draw breath I found myself surrounded by a dazzling light and then I ended up here.

Where ‘here’ was though, I wasn’t quite sure. The only thing I could think of as I became aware of my situation was that I had been abducted by aliens. Impossible! I tried to look about me but I found I couldn’t move my head at all. In fact apart from my eyes, I couldn’t move any part of me. I couldn’t even close my mouth as it was now stretched around a wide tube through which air was being pumped into my lungs. I was still dressed and, as far as I could tell, also still wearing the handcuffs chained around my waist. I seemed to be caught in some sort of cocoon set in the middle of a huge white chamber.

Any doubt I had about aliens was dispelled when one walked into the chamber and for the first time in my life I felt absolute fear. If they could just make me appear like this; transported in the blink of an eye from an alleyway in New York to the inside of what I assumed was their spaceship, they were obviously capable of anything.

The alien approached me and moved a finger over the cocoon just above my sex. I could feel a draft there and could tell the material had parted to allow him access. He reached in and inserted a large cylindrical object into my pussy. Then he sealed me back in and touched a control box he was holding in his strange elongated hand. At this the cylinder inside me came to life. I’ve had many vibrators inside me in my years as one of New York’s street girls but nothing prepared me for the sensations that swept over me now.

Wave after wave of ecstasy washed over me and I strained futilely against my captivity. Then I noticed the alien had a look on his face that, although not human, had that indistinguishable expression I had seen so many times when clients had paid me to pleasure myself so that they could watch. So, I realized, these aliens were going to experiment on me and that those experiments were going to be sexual in nature.

For an hour I hung there in that alien cocoon, literally shaking with ecstasy. Suddenly the noise stopped and I realized the power had switched off. Although I was exhausted from the multiple orgasms I had endured over the last hour, I managed to move my fingers round to the padlock and started fumbling with the dials of the tumblers of the combination. It was hard work with the gloves on, something I hadn’t factored into my calculations. I was tempted to spit out the breathing tube so I could look down at my waist and read the numbers but I couldn’t guarantee getting the cuffs loose in time even if I could see the lock. I just couldn’t take that risk.

Before I knew it, the sound of the vacuum starting up filled my ears and I was almost instantly flattened again. Just before the very last of the air was sucked from the bag I thrashed my legs in frustration. This just had the effect of leaving my legs in a less comfortable position. One I knew I would have to endure for the next hour. What foolishness had inspired me to set up the timer like this for my first run of the vacuum bed?

Amazingly, even though I was cross with myself, getting stiff from lying immobile for the last hour and now suffering in an even more uncomfortable position, I immediately had the most huge orgasm. I’d lost count but I thought this must be at least eight and my pussy was getting really sore. I wasn’t sure how many I could take. Unfortunately the thought of my predicament, of being unable to stop the pleasure, sent me straight over the edge again and I arched my back (or at least tried to) as yet another orgasm ripped through me. And another. And another. Damn! Would this never stop? Ironically, the more I felt unable to stand this, the more I got turned on by the idea and the quicker and stronger the orgasms came upon me.

This time the hour seemed to pass really quickly and before I could take it in with my exhausted mind, the vacuum stopped again. I just lay there for a moment waiting for the plastic sheet to loosen its hold on me and then came to my senses and realized I was wasting valuable time. The most important thing was to straighten my legs from the cramped position they had been pinned in for the last hour. I just wasn’t going to free myself in the time remaining before the timer kicked back in. I fumbled with the lock as fast as I could but became resigned to the idea I would just have to stick out another hour in my personal plastic heaven and hell.

I’d only tried another ten or so of the remaining nine hundred plus possible combinations when the vacuum kicked back in. At this rate I would be here all night. I tried to remember what I’d read about using vacuum beds but I didn’t recall reading anywhere about how long was considered a safe time limit. I’d assumed if you could stand it at all, staying in for long time wouldn’t be a problem. I hadn’t accounted for the growing heat and the increasing stiffness in my joints. Next break I would have to decide between trying for freedom and exercising my sore joints. I would have plenty of time until then to make that decision.

At least the orgasms had stopped. It might be because the vibrator had run out of charge or simply that I had just run out of steam. And so I lay there, exhausted in body and mind, taking stock of my situation. I wished I had chosen a breathing tube with a smaller diameter as my jaw was seriously aching. I had been clenching my teeth around the intruder through my multiple orgasms and now my whole mouth hurt and there was no way to relieve the tension. My wrists were sore from where the handcuffs had been pressed into my flesh by the unrelenting pressure.

Apart from that, I wasn’t in too bad a condition. I was feeling that languid relaxed state that always came over me after a good orgasm. Just lying there, feeling all was well with the world, enjoying the warm feeling of contentment that my relaxed muscles brought on.

I was brought to my senses by the sudden change in pressure. I had fallen asleep. In my drowsiness I lost a few valuable seconds and I was again still fumbling at the lock when the timer clicked on for its fourth session.

Having slept for most of the last hour, and with my adrenaline pumping as I feverishly worked against the clock to free myself, I was now wide awake. I lay there aware of every sensation around me. The sleep had helped my muscles relax and I didn’t ache so much. My jaw still ached and my mouth was as dry as a bowl of sand but I was still keeping it together.

The next hour was the longest of the night. I lay there unable to sleep and unable to conjure up my alien fantasy. I was just bored. It’s amazing the things that flit through your brain when you’re forced into just lying there unable to move a muscle. I found myself having really bizarre thoughts that just seemed to go round and round my head and I could see how enforced sensory deprivation would quickly disorient you, and maybe eventually send you mad. I resolved to work out how to decrease my sensory input next time. A blindfold would be a good start, I already had earplugs in and the noise that made it through those just sounded like white noise to me. Yes, that was something to think about later.

This hour seemed to drag on and on for ever but at last, and as usual without warning, the vacuum stopped. I quickly reached for the combination lock and started turning dials as quickly as I could, not wanting to risk losing my place.

However, long after the two minutes were up, the vacuum hadn’t started again. Had I miscounted and really been here for five hours? I didn’t think so. After leaving it until I was certain the vacuum wasn’t going to suddenly start, I risked pushing the despised tube out of my mouth and looked down at my waist. Now I could see the combination it was clear I had messed up earlier. I had missed the right combination in one of my fumbling sessions and it would have taken me hours to go back round all the combinations to find that out without the benefit of sight.

I quickly released my handcuffs from the chain and lifted my tired arms up to release the opening of the vacuum bag. It was hard getting out, what with being so stiff and with my hands still cuffed together and therefore of limited mobility. But I finally dragged my sore body from the vacuum bag and looked around for a clock to see how long I had been incarcerated in there.

Of course, there were no clocks on the walls yet, so I found my handcuff key, released my wrists, and went to see what had happened to the timer.

It turned out the timer had switched on for another hour but the vacuum had refused to co-operate. I hoped I hadn’t burnt out the motor but suddenly the thing burst into life having cooled down sufficiently. It had obviously overheated and the thermal cutout had tripped. I wasn’t at all sure how these things worked but was glad it had, saving me from another hour that might have become unbearable following on from the others. I was also glad the motor hadn’t restarted as I tried to gain release, with the bag still sealed and my mouth not round the breathing tube. That could have been a close call. Ah well, there were loads of warnings on the sites selling ready-made vacuum beds not to attempt to use them solo. And of course I had ignored them as usual.

The nicest thing about my vacuum bed is that I could remove the pipes from the bag, roll it up, and store it all away in a cupboard where even if it were to be discovered, the purpose of all the parts would not be immediately obvious.

I knew what the parts were for though, and was already making plans to reassemble the most devious bondage device I’d constructed to date and place myself willingly into its unrelenting confinement. Those plans didn’t include waiting too long either.




BONDAGE PICTURES

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