Self-Bondage

Author's Note: I hope I have improved as a writer, as this is my third bondage story. Of course I welcome all comments, both positive and negative, so that I can judge my writing as others may see it. The Intro Lori is Josh’s bondage toy/pain slut girl friend. He introduced her to gentle bondage shortly after they met, and she ended up taking to bondage like a fish to water. The tighter, the better. Also, she has found that discomfort, even pain to an extent, juice up her orgasms to an incredible degree. ...

Author's Note: This is a (likely final) sequel to Lost in Translation II - , based on Lost in Translation. I recommend reading the trilogy in order for things to make sense. Chapter 1 Other than being strapped into the passenger seat all I remember of the drive home is disconnected bursts of sensation. Isolated within a sensory deprivation hood, double gagged with large vibrating plugs in both lower holes a mix of rubber, leather and steel covered almost my entire body to hold me tight and nigh immobile. The extreme outfit, combined with the exhaustion of the long evening, had me… elsewhere. I could feel the orgasms coursing through my tired body but it was as if from a great distance. I was so exhausted I couldn’t even muster the strength to moan into the stifling gag, I just lay reclined in the seat next to my boyfriend. He could have driven us anywhere, hours or days might have passed in that state as I sat cocooned inside my own body as much as within my bindings, floating on a sea of sensations. Apparently he took us home he told me later that I collapsed when he tried to get me out of the car; I want to say I remember his arms supporting me but I can’t be sure. ...

Louisa always had a vivid imagination as a child; this had often got her into various trouble over the years but never enough to stop her from trying anything new or daring. She had a few passions; nylons, mummification and self-bondage were her most secret ones. She had always thought she would die if anyone found out about these, so always made sure she made precautions so that her “other side” would remain hidden. Louisa though also found it a buzz to see how far she could go, to be helpless and vulnerable but undiscovered as well. ...

I hear the beeper on my collar emit one loud “tweet!” One? Damn it. Two would at least be a known quantity; just 100 strokes, barely takes a minute and George, formerly my Rottweiler but now apparently my master, is more than happy to make them quick. But one; he’ll know that it is a time thing, not a speed thing, and we could be at it for awhile. It all started because I was pissed off. What pissed me off, you ask? Stupid porn stories. ...

Lucy’s live-in lover has left the house. He will not be back for hours. How do I know? I’ve been watching their apartment for days. I know their routines as well as if they were my own. How do I know her name? I’ve been through her garbage. What am I? I’m a peeping Tom. Well, actually, that’s not true. A peeping Tom doesn’t do anything other than watch - I do. ...

Jennifer was so horny and she couldn’t do anything about it. Alex had asked Jennifer to dress up in her tight little French Maid’s costume. Not that Jennifer minded. She loved pleasing her lover to the extent that she would do anything asked of her. She had slowly dressed herself in the hotel room while Alex busied in the bathroom for the corporate meeting that would take most of the morning. ...

This is not fiction. Every word of it is true! I am a teacher and about 20 years ago, before I got married, I had an interesting summer. Since I had no time schedule, I would nap during the afternoon and then wake up in time for dinner. In the evening, I would write letters and then go out and mail them about 2:00 a.m., then go to bed. I noticed how quiet it was at that time in the morning and wondered about taking some of my private self-bondage outside. [I had been practicing it inside.] Let me describe the way to the mailbox. ...

Carla had been building towards this moment for weeks. Everything was ready, but after so much worry and soul-searching did she dare take the last irrevocable step? Her stomach churned and she felt physically sick. Dare she. Would it ruin everything? Carla’s marriage had ended for many reasons but one, undoubtedly, had been the lack of the serious, wild sex she so loved Reading sex novels had opened up to her imagination a fantasy world of S/M and bondage which held a deep unfathomed interest for Carla. She had bought some handcuffs and dropped a thousand hints to her ex, but while he obliged to some extent, he was not particularly enthused. ...

I am a man. My erect penis pushes against the front of my pants, tenting it out. I want to touch it, to fondle it, to stroke it, to feel the orgasmic rush of semen pulsing down the shaft and exploding in a forceful jet. But I cannot. About the only thing I can do is press myself against her. She is hard and smooth. At least I think it is her, for I cannot see. Yes, it must be her for I hear the rustle of paper. But my penis is numb; it has no feeling. All the feeling is inside me, the sensual tactile pleasures generated by my pushing, by the rocking of my pelvis, by the gentle gyrations of my penis. How should it feel, my penis? Should I feel pleasure in the tip? In the shaft? I do not know. ...

Author's Note: Marisa’s adventure in self-bondage goes terribly wrong. “AARRRGGGGH.” “OOOOMMMPPPHH” “WHEW.” “OH MY GOD! WHAT HAVE I DONE TO MYSELF?” The groans and exclamations and questions all went unheard, even by the beautiful woman bound to the bench inside the underground bunker. The sounds were her first in more than 5 hours, except for the ragged breathing and steady slurping sounds brought on by the huge artificial cock that had been thrusting deep in and out of throat. Her pussy and ass felt strangely empty as equally large mechanical cocks withdrew for her rest period, however long or short that might be. ...