free rope bondage free selfbondage stories
With all my recent building work, I hadn’t been able to find time to get out into the woods for an outdoors bondage adventure. I decided this was long overdue and that at the first opportunity I would put it right.
Continuing the theme of the inquisition of the innocent girl accused of witchcraft, I wanted the new adventure to be set in the appropriate period. I was also ready to risk a little more in my outdoor exploration so I decided to make this a nude scenario.
Finding a free day I could work from home, I managed to finish my tasks during the morning and set about getting ready for my adventure. I had worn just my simple sackcloth dress and had added my locking metal collar for good measure. My collar was as usual locked to my steel wrist and ankle cuffs and, chained in this manner, I drove to the woods, arriving in the late afternoon. I had never driven in full daylight, barefoot and dressed ready for bondage and so by the time I arrived I was already very aroused.
I waited in the car until there was no traffic, and I was as certain as I could be that there were no hikers passing along the trail into the woods. I removed my chains, and stepping gingerly out of the car, grabbed my backpack of goodies and the step stool from the back seat and locked the door.
Looking furtively around me I almost ran into the woods before another car came by, and quickly disappeared out of sight of the road down the trail. I was safe from being spotted from the road but anyone passing down the trail would see me as there wasn’t any place to hide until I reached the gap in the undergrowth a quarter of a mile further on; the gap that led to my clearing.
It’s amazing how sensitive your ears become when you’re up to no good. By the time I reached the gap, I’m sure I could have heard some one coming from a mile away. But, happily I reached the gap undetected.
Locating the three trees that grew close together near the middle of the clearing, I had remembered from my previous trips, I dropped my bag on the ground and started to prepare for my coming ordeal. I tied a loop in one end of two separate ropes and threw the ropes over a branch about seven feet up, one on each tree. I tied the other ends around the trunks. The two loops met in the middle with about a five foot gap between them. If I stood on top of the stool I could hold one rope in each hand with just enough slack to slip my hands through the loops. Once I stepped off the stool, the ropes would tighten coming down as they did from higher up branches and I would be trapped and stretched out between the trees. Stepping back up on the stool I was, with some difficulty, able to free myself. I loosely tied a string between the two loops to pull them towards each other. This would help me reach them with my hands later.
From the bottom of my bag I brought out the water container and placed it under the lowest branch on the third tree. I fetched the stool and used it to reach up and screw an eyelet into the underneath of the branch. Ice from a thermos went into my detergent bag and I passed the drawstrings of that through the eyelet. I hung my ratchet device from the drawstring and fed a long rope through the device and attached one end to the water container.
Making loops at the ends of another long rope and starting in the center of the two original trees I ran the rope along the ground towards the first tree, around the trunk and across to the second tree, passing the first loop on the way, around the base of the other tree and back into the middle where the end just touched the first loop. With the rope just laying on the ground the loops just met in the middle of the two trees where they waited for my ankles to be inserted. I tied the free end of the ratchet rope to the center of the ankle rope and moved the ropes around to see how far the water container would have to be raised so that there would be enough slack for me hold my ankles together and stand on the stool yet be pulled far enough apart when the water container dropped.
I finally had the optimum drop so I reattached the water container at the right height and used a thin rope between the water container handle and the branch above it, to hold it at the right height. From the knot of this thin rope I ran a string to one of the wrist loops. I would be able to use this later to pull the knot undone and cause the water container to fall to the ground. I did a final check making sure that with the water container at that height I could pull my ankles together and with the water container on the ground they would be pulled far apart. I’d got it just right. With one hand I took the weight of the container and ratchet system to free the ice bag and allow me to insert a couple more ice cubes into the bag.
The set up was complete and I was ready to go, so I took off my sackcloth dress and tore it into tiny pieces. Now there was no way home except to run naked along the trail and then drive all the way home with no clothes on. I put the stool back between the trees with my loops and slipped on the ankle ropes. I sat on the stool for a moment and used a bright red permanent marker pen to write ‘FUCK THE WITCH’ in huge letters across my stomach. I also drew an arrow down to my pussy in case the instructions weren’t clear enough. Standing up I wrote ‘WHIP ME BAD!’ across my bottom. This writing was a little wobbly but I guessed anyone reading it would get the idea.
Standing up on the stool, I placed earplugs in my ears, a blindfold around my eyes and placed my bit gag in my mouth. Reaching towards the wrist loops I wriggled my wrists into the loops and stepped back off the stool. My wrists were pulled up and out and I found myself stretched between the two trees. I yanked on the string to release the knot in the rope holding up the water container and felt a pull on my ankles. It was a pull I could easily resist and so I still had a way out if I wanted; simply by stepping back up on the stool and freeing my wrists. Once I moved my ankles apart though, the weight of the water container would take up any slack and the ratchet would prevent the slack being pulled back through. I would then be trapped.
I stood for a while testing my senses. I was blind, deaf and dumb and at the mercy of anyone who happened by. Not that I expected anyone of course but the very thought that someone may find me started me dripping with excitement. I rubbed my thighs together to relieve the itch and as I put my foot back down on the ground found my ankles weren’t as close together as before. I could still step up on the stool and free myself if needed and that just wouldn’t do, so I deliberately moved my legs apart.
With the earplugs in, I couldn’t hear the ratcheting but I could feel the slow pull of the weight on my ankles increase, click by click. I was now past the point of no return. My legs were pulled too far apart to allow me to step back up on the stool. With my legs further apart, the strain on my shoulders was greater but it certainly wasn’t unbearable. I could stand like this, fairly comfortably stretched between these trees, for the next hour or two. But where was the fun in that? I was supposed to be a witch tortured, so I should make this more believable. I slowly opened my legs, step by step until the strain on my arms was quite considerable. Trouble with this strategy is that there was no undoing each step once I’d made it.
Andreabound Between the Trees – Part Two
Finally released from the oubliette, rough hands had grabbed me and pulled me to my feet. The guards had leered at my naked body but, covered from head to toe in mud and slime, I was obviously too disgusting for even the most lusty of them to want to lay a hand on me. The Captain of the Guard marched in and looked me up and down. “Disgusting whore!” he spat, “No one will want her like that. Get her cleaned up and put her in the iron Maiden to dry off, then bring her to the gatehouse.”
At that I assumed they were preparing to have their fun with me, but on arriving at the gatehouse, still shivering from being dunked in ice cold water to clean me up and left in the freezing Iron Maiden for a couple of hours to dry off, I found the Captain of the Guard already wearing his coat and holding open the door that lead outside the castle. After daubing me with paint declaring my supposed witchhood, he slipped a noose around my neck and tied my hands behind my back. Pulling on the loose end of the rope around my neck, he motioned for the guards to take me outside.
Despite my desire to be outside the castle and as far away from the torture rooms and dungeon as possible, I resisted being led out into public scrutiny wearing nothing but a couple of pieces of rope. We weren’t far along the road before a small crowd gathered to enjoy the spectacle. I tried to put on a brave face but I was mortified at being dragged along in such a manner. I couldn’t even use my hands to cover my nudity and my assets were on display for all to see. As word spread and the crowd grew, so did my humiliation and I hung my head in shame. The captain shouted at me, “lift your head up slut, and face your accusers”. He emphasized the command with a flick of the short ceremonial quirt he carried at his side. It whistled through the air and landed painfully across my left breast much to the amusement of the crowd, who joined in the shouting and it wasn’t long before pieces of rotten fruit and even small stones were hitting various parts of my body. These missiles were only stopped when a badly thrown rock hit one of the guards on the shoulder. The guards turned on the crowd, which then quickly dispersed fearing the anger of the Captain and his entourage.
After a mile or so the road from the castle entered the forest. The trees on each side had been cut back to allow safe travel along the road without fear of ambush but the small privacy they offered was a welcome relief to me. Most of the crowd had long since got bored with the proceedings and given up following us and the last stragglers stopped trailing along at the edge of the forest. We were alone and I wondered where we could be heading. I hadn’t eaten properly for days and was weary from my sleepless spell in the iron maiden and before that in the oubliette. I hoped the journey wasn’t going to be long. I needn’t have worried however, as ten minutes later we came to a place where the road passed through a large clearing. The guards stopped and sat about on the fallen trees for refreshment. I risked asking for a drink but was rewarded with a slap across the face. “Shut up!” the Captain growled, and then to the guards, “Get on with it. String her up”.
A couple of the guards got grumblingly to their feet and threw ropes over the branches of adjacent trees. They attached these ropes to my wrists and pulled them up and out towards the branches. Wrapping similar ropes around my ankles they pulled those out too until I was spread-eagled between the trees, my feet barely touching the ground. A blindfold was placed over my eyes and I felt more paint being daubed on my stomach and behind. I heard the guards wander over to join the Captain, and they conversed in low voices, presumably discussing their handiwork.
The Captain coughed and, raising his voice, addressed me. “Witch! You are sentenced to hang here for all passersby to use as they will until dawn tomorrow at which time your confession will be heard”.
“Now gag her so that she may not put a curse upon us”. With that one of the guards came forward and pushed a dirty stick into my mouth. He bound it there with a piece of rag. I raged at them, calling them all the names under the sun, but all that came out was a garbled mmffhhing.
“See how she tries to cast a spell on us in her diabolical tongue” the Captain informed his men. This just made me shout at them even more. “Quiet Witch!” the Captain shouted over my babbling. He made his point several times with the quirt across my back and buttocks. My shouts became cries of pain but I eventually got the message and, gritting my teeth around the stick, managed to hold my screams in.
“She’s ready” declared the Captain, and so it began. “Let Conrad go first. He’s probably still a virgin”, someone yelled. And so the first of the guards approached me and dropping his breeches hesitantly pressed his body against mine. He thrust his excited member at the entrance to my pussy and, despite having my legs held so far apart; I clenched my muscles to deny him access. “Get on with it Conrad” shouted the others. “She’s fighting me”, he replied. The other guards howled with laughter and the Captain said “back off, I’ll loosen her for you”. With that, he took to whipping me again. This time with an earnestness that brought tears to my eyes and involuntary screams from my gagged mouth. He whipped my already hurting back and then moved to the front, slicing me across my breasts before aiming at my pussy. I flinched every time I heard the whip whistle through the air but was powerless to move out of the way or do any more than brace myself for the inevitable stripe of fire that landed across my stretched out, and so very exposed, skin.
The whipping seemed to go on for ever but eventually, the expected swish of the quirt failed to come and the Captain said “perhaps the witch will be more amenable to your affections now Conrad”. And so I found myself in the same position as before, Conrad’s fetid breath next to my face and his even more excited member pressed against my pussy. This time I did not resist him although the pain of his body pressing against my whipped body caused me to cry out. Especially when in the heat of passion he clawed at my already raw back. The others weren’t slow in taking their turn and their ardor was by no means reduced due to having had to wait so long for their satisfaction. I couldn’t see of course and so I didn’t know who was taking me except I was sure there was more of them than I remembered.
Having had their fill for now, the guards moved back to the roadside where they continued to talk about me as if I weren’t there. For a while they remained there and stopped a couple of passing wagons, insisting the occupants played their part in the inquisition of a witch. Not all of them were men and at one point I felt the tongue of a woman licking at my pussy; a welcome relief after the abuse of the last few hours. The Captain saw I was enjoying this though and soon put a stop to it. The woman left after biting each of my nipples hard enough to leave them stinging for a very long time.
Changes in the woodland sounds told me that night was falling and the guards decided to head back to the comforts of their barracks and a hot meal. I was left hanging between the trees for the night and, as a final torment, the Captain warned me about crying out during the night lest I attract the attentions of the wolves, or worse.
He at least gave me the comfort of a drink, water squeezed from a rag which I thirstily gulped around my gag. Then I was on my own, starting at every sound around me in the forest, sure every moment that I was about to be eaten by some unspeakable denizen of the forest.
Andreabound Between the Trees – Part Three
While lost in my fantasy I had not noticed that the weather in my clearing had deteriorated. The wind had picked up and now the rain started. At first it was a fine drizzle, wetting everything and making me shiver in the cold. Then it came in squalls pushed along by the wind which was getting more blustery by the minute. At least the inclement weather would keep people off the trail through the woods. Not that I expected anyone to be walking along there at this time of year anyway and certainly no one had any reason to come into my clearing. No, I wasn’t expecting anyone to find me, but there was always that slight possibility and that alone was enough to get me excited. That and the fact of what they would find, were they to push their way through the gap in the undergrowth and stumble across a naked girl with clear instructions written over her oh so available body. A girl unable to resist whatever punishments or pleasures a stranger might wish to bestow on her.
Which is why I nearly jumped out of my skin when, a cold hand was placed on one of my breasts. I jerked in my bonds, feeling the water container dropping even further and my ankles were pulled so far apart that only my toes were touching the ground now. I squeaked into my gag with terror as the reality of the situation came home to me. To fantasize about this was one thing; to actually be at the mercy of a complete stranger was an entirely different matter.
I pulled as hard as I could against my bonds but achieved nothing. I was not going to be free until the ice melted. Maybe not even then I realized if the stranger took it into his mind to make my restraint more permanent. Then I really would be at the complete mercy of a total stranger; someone whose motives may not be benign at all.
The hand landed on my breast again and this time stayed there. I realized it was a rather thin, scratchy hand and probably was not human after all. Following an initial irrational second of horror at the thought, I realized it must be part of a tree. The wind must have snapped a branch and the end of it was lying across my breast. I wished I hadn’t put on the blindfold; then I would know what was assaulting me. What if someone were really there, holding the twig on my breast to taunt me? Without sight or sound I could not be sure I was alone. But the branch did not move and the small movements I could make were not enough to dislodge it. It had to be just the tree I surmised.
After waiting a decent amount of time I decided for certain that no one was there. It wasn’t likely in any event. I would have to be incredibly unlucky for someone to stumble across my lair; especially in this weather. And the ice must be near to melting so I made the decision to go the whole way and moved my legs apart as far as I could.
By this time my legs and arms were under extreme strain and I knew this would put me in a position that I couldn’t stand for long. I was counting on the ice melting real soon. Even my toes were barely touching the ground. I had to bounce up and down relying on the elasticity of the ropes to be able to put the balls of my feet on the ground. I reckoned the water container was now sitting on the ground as the pressure on my ankles was slightly less. So I just hung there for a while, curling my toes up so I was completely suspended above the ground.
Snap! I heard the sound barely a heartbeat before my right arm flew down to my side. What had happened? My right arm was no longer attached to the tree, or anything else for that matter. Had the rope frayed or the knots come loose? Whatever the reason, I was now free to reach up and remove my blindfold. Yes, I could see in the fading light that the rope had snapped where it passed over the branch. I was free. I reached for my left arm which was no longer pulled quite so tautly towards the opposing branch to release my wrist from its loop. But the rope around my right ankle prevented me from gaining enough slack to wriggle my hand free of the loop. I couldn’t quite reach my left wrist with my right hand either. Damn! I was stuck here until the ice melted after all. I rested a while and tried again. This time I managed to work enough slack to pull free and released from the tree I slumped to the ground sitting abruptly on my behind. It took a few seconds to reach over and release my ankles from their respective loops and I could stand up unencumbered at last.
Yet again I’d won unexpected freedom and, like my other heroine the cowgirl rustler, could make good my escape from the law and disappear into the wilds. I knew the consequences of running away would be severe if I was captured again, but in this case it was difficult to see how things could get any worse. If I stayed I could only look forward to torture after torture until they broke me and I gave them the confession they were after. That would spell the end of my short life, either by hanging or more likely a burning at the stake. So without further delay I fled into the woods.
The walk back to my car was thankfully uneventful as was the drive home. The rain had steamed up the windows and rather than clear them and risk being seen by passing drivers, I just wiped a part of the windshield and drove home, careful not to speed or otherwise draw attention to myself. By the time I got home it was dark and therefore safe enough to slip out of the car and open the garage doors.
As usual a hot bath awaited me and I lay, luxuriating in the bubbles, reliving my adventure. In all the time I had been tied up I had been denied an orgasm and I made up for that now. The thought of being taken against my will had been a thrilling fantasy and although I wouldn’t for a second want that to be real, I realized that the excitement of tying myself up was beginning to wear thin. I was going to need to share this experience with another person soon. But how?