Gagged Humiliation

I had done something wrong; nagged a little too much, or complained, or criticized. I am a devoted and obedient slave so I don't want to explore my misbehavior; it is always humiliating to review in my mind. The result of my misbehavior was that Jason decided to punish me using a gag.

Gags fall into the category of restraints that I love to hate. They are so humiliating. They make a statement about how I am being controlled. They communicate something to me and to those who can see me. They can be simply uncomfortable or downright painful.

On the other hand, Jason loves gags. On me, of course. He has slowly been acquiring a growing set of gags. Ball gags, whiffle gags, cleave gags, ring gags, penis gags, dental spreaders, pony bits, and so on. Each one has a purpose, a situation, a use. Each is targeted to have a specific effect on me, to produce a reaction, to communicate a discipline or to convey a feeling.

Very few gags are actually designed to keep me quiet, per se. They can interfere with speech and even muffle sound a little, but most gags don't prevent me from making noise (a lot of it if I am in pain), or speaking (though I may have to work a little to be understood).

Our neighbors across the street, Steve and Diane, have joined us at times for play. They do not live the complete D/s lifestyle as Jason and I do, but we did inspire them to try a few things and they seem to enjoy it. I enjoy when they join us, because with another couple things are simply more interesting. I am bisexual and Diane is a very pretty woman in her mid-30s, and Steve is a fit and attractive man.

A couple of weeks ago we were invited over to Steve and Diane's for dinner and an evening of whatever. It had been a while since we had seen them so it was exciting for me. I wanted to dress up a bit and make the evening nice. I wore a nice dress that showed off my body without being too inappropriate, and a few nice items of jewelry. I placed my favorite sapphire pendant on my slave collar. When it was time to walk across the street to their house, Jason stopped me inside the front door and told me to turn around and open my mouth. I did as he requested, and he slipped a ring gag into my mouth.


Ring gags aren't designed to silence you at all. They have several basic effects. First, they allow you to make all the noise you want, but clear speech is near impossible. Second, they hurt, depending on how big they are, because your jaw is held open wide and after a while the muscles and tendons in your jaw get very tired of being stretched. Lastly, and at times the worst, they stimulate the inside of you mouth, making you drool uncontrollably. Going over to our neighbors gagged like this was going to be humiliating.

Jason pulled the gag tight, making sure it was securely in place, and buckled it behind my head. It secured with a very small lock and would be impossible to slip off. I leaned forward and bumped my forehead against the wall in frustration, realizing that the evening was going to have some very embarrassing and unpleasant elements to it.

"Stand up and make me proud, now, Siobhan," Jason patted my ass, and I did as I was told. We walked across the street and knocked at our neighbor's door.

"Welcome! Ah, Siobhan, I see you are under a bit of restraint tonight. That's OK, we will do just fine," Steve was cordial as he invited us in. Diane came out to greet us from the kitchen, saw what I was wearing, and her face took on a look of empathy. I flushed bright red with embarrassment, but forged ahead. Following Diane into the kitchen to help her finish preparing the meal, I hung my head.

"What happened, Siobhan? Is he punishing you? Or just being a little cruel? I know Jason can take pleasure out of disciplining you for little reason. Though I have to say I think you will sometimes push the envelope a little because you do like it." Diane was sympathetic. She was submissive to Steve, though only during scenes.

I shrugged. Trying to talk in a ring gag is really hard, harder than most other kinds of gags. We brought the food out to the table and sat down.



As the food was passed and dished out I suddenly realized that I wasn't going to be able to eat. A wave of complete humiliation came over me again. I must have flushed bright red because Jason noticed and said, "Don't worry Siobhan, I am sure there are things here you will be able to eat. Just do the best you can."

Tears trickled down my cheeks, not from pain but from the shear embarrassment of my situation. I was being publicly punished and forced to eat a nice dinner while wearing a ring gag that made it completely impossible to eat. It was going to be near impossible to drink, as well. I lowered my head and let my hair fall in front of my face, trying to hide myself.

"Raise your head, be polite Siobhan. Why don't you start by telling Steve and Diane why you are wearing the gag?" Jason took a big bite of lasagna. All eyes turned toward me.

"I awk ack ooo ason..." I said as clearly as I could. I could see Diane was embarrassed for me, which somehow made me feel worse. Steve nodded, and dug into his food.

My jaw was beginning to hurt. The gag was a big one, holding my jaw wide open. The muscles at the back of my jaw were stretched and beginning to cramp. I decided to try and eat a tiny bit of lasagna; it was soft and I thought I might be able to handle it.

I slipped the bit of tomato sauce covered pasta into my mouth, leaning my head back to keep it from falling out. Moving my tongue around slowly smashed the pasta to the point where I could swallow, but it was impossible to do so. It is very difficult to swallow when wearing a ring gag. I tilted my head back, poured a little water into my mouth and tried to make the food go down. At first I thought it was working but then I choked. Water bubbled up and over my chin. I managed to get the food down, but the experiment wasn't encouraging.

The others were talking, and I was sitting pretending to be part of the group, but unable to participate. I felt terribly alone.

"Tell us about your new project, Siobhan. I hear you are bolstering security there." Steve was either being naive in asking me to talk, or deliberately cruel.

"Talk to Steve, Siobhan," Jason prompted.

I raised my head and did my best. "Eee haa a uuu i hi... inter...erance ecknology ee are de loying..."

I spoke slowly and deliberately. When I was finished, I broke into silent tears. I doubt if anyone had understood more than a tenth of what I had said. The only reason to have me speak was to force me to demonstrate my shameful condition.

After that episode, my drooling became uncontrollable. The ring was stimulating the inside of my mouth, making it think there was food there that needed to be chewed and digested. Saliva gathered in my mouth and began dribbling over onto my chin. I used my napkin to wipe, over and over again, but it was obvious what was happening.

I had one sip of wine, one small piece of lasagna, and nothing else during the dinner. When it was over, I helped clear the table and then Diane and I joined the men in the living room, bringing them coffee. My jaw was throbbing by now. It was incredible how one small restraint device such as a ring gag had caused me such humiliation and discomfort.

After a half hour or so, the talk between the men and Diane turned to sensual topics. Steve described the latest scene he and Diane had created; Diane indicated she enjoyed it a lot except for some clamps that had cut the skin and left marks. I was saying nothing, simply sitting and listening, trying to keep from drooling all over my nice dress.

"Siobhan, I know you can't participate much in the conversation, but perhaps you can find some way to be a part of the group," Jason said. I looked at him miserably, not knowing what he had in mind.

"If you can't talk, maybe you can provide some other form of stimulation for the company."

Oh. Now I understood. Slowly, I slid down from my chair and onto my knees in front of Jason.

"No, let's take care of our good host, first."

Drool dripping from my chin as I moved over in front of Steve. This would be the third time I had given Steve a blow job. Steve unzipped and pulled out his semi-flaccid cock. Maneuvering my head down, I managed to get it into my mouth and began a slow but steady back and forth motion. I couldn't use my lips, but my tongue was free and I did my best. It took about a minute and Steve was rock hard, his cock sliding down my throat.


"She has really learned to deep throat it, hasn't she?" Steve panted as I moved back and forth in front of him.

"Yep. I have trained her myself, gradually, in a number of areas. I am proud of how she is growing," Jason answered him. "Put your hands behind your back, Siobhan."

I kept my hands clasped behind me while Jason and Diane watched as I continued to shove my head down on Steve's cock, letting my tongue and throat slide over his hard, engorged flesh. A few minutes later I felt him tense and suddenly pull out. I closed my eyes, knowing what was coming. Hot, slimy fluid suddenly shot over my face, getting into my hair and even up one nostril.

I sat back on my heels and waited for further instructions as Steve wiped himself clean and zipped up.  His semen very slowly slid down my face. Finally, I shifted over to where Jason sat, offering my wide open mouth to him.

"No, no, Siobhan. Not just now. Please provide some entertainment for Diane. I am sure she worked very hard on the wonderful meal tonight."

I wasn't sure how Diane felt about this, but I knew it would be easier for me. Diane unzipped her pants and pulled them down around her ankles, spreading her knees and exposed herself for me. I reached up and pulled her panties down, and then used my tongue to begin exploring her soft folds of flesh. She tasted good, better than Steve. I knew how to make her feel good, and in no time she was moaning and panting as the guys watched her writhe under my ministrations. She came loudly, grabbing my head.

When it was over, Diane looked down at me with a bit of embarrassment herself. I knew she felt like she had used me and contributed to my debasement. I knew she was merely following Steve's wishes and frankly, I enjoyed every minute I had with her. I didn't get to play with women nearly often enough and I had a bit of a crush on Diane.

The rest of the evening was calm. Jason never had me do him, instead the others talked a while and then Jason excused us and we walked back across the street to our own house. Steve's semen was dried on my face, so when I got back inside the house I went to wash it off. I came back out of the bathroom, removed my clothes and presented myself to Jason to have the gag removed.


"We aren't done quite yet, Siobhan. Kneel." Jason was sitting on the sofa, and I knelt before him, reached out and unzipped him and pulled out his large, throbbing member. He wrapped his hands around my head and plunged deep.

Steve had been polite; I wasn't his property, I was Jason's, and he didn't abuse the privilege of having me suck him off. Jason went at it like an animal, pushing his cock as deeply down my throat as he could. His balls pressed against my chin and my nose smashed against his abdomen.

I have practiced deep throating, but it is still difficult. I choked as the rod of flesh filled my throat, pressing my tonsils and uvula. Jason pulled most of the way out, allowing me a breath as he let my lips surround the head of his penis, and then pushed in again, all the way. I choked again and couldn't breathe. My stomach was reacting, automatically trying to churn up it's contents (thank goodness I hadn't eaten anything).  As he pulled out again, a little slime from my stomach came up.

In mid-gasp, Jason plunged in again, not giving me time for a full breath.

He continued to face fuck me like this, pushing me to my limits. I gasped for breath each time he allowed it, but I struggled in place. I couldn't help it, my body was beginning to cry out for air and vomit kept rising to my throat. Jason stopped for a moment, took a pair of handcuffs from a drawer in a side table, and cuffed my wrists behind my back. He then slid into my mouth again through the ring gag and continued, holding my head firmly, pushing in and out, his cock sliding well down my throat.

Tears streamed down my face and slime dripped from my mouth and nose, a mixture of snot and vomit. Breathing was a luxury, to be grasped as quickly as possible. He pounded away, pushing in and out, sometimes deeper, sometimes pulling out to allow my tongue to stimulate his cock head. I did the best I could but I had basically been reduced to a piece of meat with a hole and breasts bouncing to his thrusts.

Just when I thought I would pass out, he pushed deep and his cock pulsed in my mouth as his semen pumped out and down my throat. I didn't have to swallow, my throat was held open and the cum slid down easily.

He pulled out, and I gasped for air. When he let go of my head, I simply slumped over and then lay on my side on the carpet, trying to catch my breath.

Finally, he unlocked the cuffs, and removed the gag. He was tender with me. I had been punished, and taken it like the good whore slave I was. I was proud to have gotten through it, and rested my head on his lap as he stroked my hair.

Later that night we took a shower together to clean up, playing intimately and enjoying each other's bodies. I slept safe in his arms, content that I was his.

Losing My Virginity

Some time after I had begun my journey with self bondage and exploring my sexuality with both girls, guys and rope, I lost my virginity officially and spectacularly.

I won't say how old I was, for a variety of reasons. Let's just say I started early, just as my experimentation with bondage started quite early. Dildos, both official and makeshift, had been a part of my life for a while, so there wasn't any physical change from the experience. My vagina was ready for a man long before a man entered my vagina. Nevertheless, I will always remember the experiences leading up to and the actual act with fondness and a wry smile.

My parents would visit my grandparents (my mother's parents) once every couple of weeks or so. My uncle lived quite close by. Their homes were on the side of a low hill covered with a mix of trees and empty fields, out in the country. My uncle had three sons, and one of them was my age. Kevin and I were friends since I could crawl. We would fight, play, and just generally have a lot of fun whenever we got together.

At this time in my life (before I had a license and could drive), I would become bored and go out to hike on the hill and around the fields. I loved discovering wildflowers, climbing trees and exploring, though I avoided the white boxes of the bee farm that someone kept on the base of the south side of the hill.

When my cousin was home, we would go out hiking together. My parents never gave this a second thought. Kevin was family, and we had been playing together forever. Where normally I would have been watched if I were with a boyfriend and kept close, exploring and playing with Kevin was never an issue. So after I hit puberty, began playing with bondage, and seeking any chance I could to explore what boys and girls were like as sensual beings, Kevin was just there-- a tall, pretty good looking guy that I liked and had always shared things with.

On the other side of the hill from my grandparent's house was a shack. I have no idea what it had been used for. It wasn't a house; it was a single room thing made of wood planks with a single door and a single window. It was probably used for storage years before when the area had been farmed or ranched. It had been standing empty for years.

It became a favorite place for me and Kevin to visit during our outings.

Kevin was less experienced than I was when it came to sex, and he began asking me about it one day when we were sitting inside the shack. He knew I had had boyfriends, casually, just guys I hung out with.

"Do you ever kiss them?" he asked.

"Sure. Whenever I can. It's fun." I answered.

"Like... tongue kisses? French ones?"

I laughed. "Kev, that's the only kind I have with a boy. Regular kisses are for, like... grandma. If you kiss a boy, it's a tongue kiss."

"I kiss Jenny. But she won't let me hold her or really kiss her deep." (Jenny was some girl that lived nearby that he was trying to date).

I could tell what Kevin was thinking. I strung him out for a while, but finally asked. "You want to practice with me? Kissing, I mean? Like, really kissing?"

His face went red and then he grinned. "I thought you would never offer! It's not like we are doing it for real or anything, I just think it would be cool to see what it is like. Maybe practice."

I shuffled over to him. I was wearing tight jeans and a plaid shirt that hid my bust but hinted at my shape. He was a good foot taller than I was, so I reached my arms up and propped them on his shoulders kind of sexy, and pressed my body against him slightly, just enough so he caught a hint of what was under my shirt. I shook my long dark hair back and looked up at him, waiting. He hesitated a moment, suddenly shy with his cousin, but I didn't move. My face was only about a foot away from his and I licking my lips, demanding he make his move.

He did. His face came down, and I closed my eyes and his lips touched mine. It wasn't strange kissing my cousin romantically; it seemed very natural. Maybe it was because we were so close, friends for so long, and were used to sharing everything. His being a really cute guy helped some, too.  Anyway, as his lips touched mine, I opened my mouth slightly, slipping my tongue out just a bit to tease him and invite him in. His own tongue met mine, and his arms encircled me, pulling me close.

That first kiss between us lasted about a minute, but seemed like forever. It was really, really good. Kevin knew how to kiss; I don't know if he had been lying to me just to get me intimate with him or if he was just a naturally good kisser. Didn't matter, his tongue penetrated my mouth and played with mine passionately.

When we broke, there was a moment of silence and then we both backed away, aware that we had maybe enjoyed that a little more than we were supposed to. He thanked me, told me I was an amazing kisser and we started talking about other things. It was a bit awkward, and we soon left the shack and hiked around the old covered reservoir at the top of the hill and then back to my grandmothers.

On the way I shared some of my sexual experiences with him. Yes, I was still a virgin, but had made out with boys and was getting more and more active in self bondage. I actually told him about it. He was amazed.

"That is so fucking hot. You really like being tied up, huh?"

"Yeah. I have no idea why. It turns me on like nothing else. I like the feeling of being helpless. I like the feeling of being restricted. I just wish I had someone that would do it with me because in the back of my mind I always know there is some way I have left myself to get loose, so I am never truly helpless."

"Aren't you afraid of getting trapped? Or of someone finding you that way?"

I laughed. "Oh, yeah. Well, the second time I ever did it I actually did get stuck and Mom and Dad almost came home before I got the ropes cut off. After that I have always made sure I had a way out."

He was quiet for a while, and when we got back to my grandmothers house, he said he had to get back home and took off. It was three weeks before I saw him again.

When we did see each other again, he predictably said he wanted to go for another hike around the hill. I said I wanted to see if the Johnny-Jump-Ups were out and pick some (my favorite wild flower). We headed off around the south side of the hill and when we got to the shack we went in and sat down. He pulled out some weed and we smoked a little. I didn't get high that often back then, and it was nice.



Before long Kevin kissed me again, much more confidently. I have to say, I enjoyed it and kissed him back. He pushed me down on the floor and our legs intertwined, bodies pressed against each other. His right hand slipped under my top and found my breast, shoving my bra up. It felt really good to have his hand on my bare flesh and I moaned to encourage him on. He played with my nipple for a while as we kissed, and then I sat up, and took my top off.

We sat facing each other and he reached out and touched my breasts. This was as far as I had gone with any boy, and I think I did it because I trusted and liked Kevin more than any other guy I had ever made out with. He was fascinated by my boobs, and liked how my nipples hardened as he touched.

"God, Siobhan you are the hottest girl I know," he said thickly. I knew I was good looking, and prided myself on being slim but still having good breasts.

"Thanks, Kev. You are pretty hot as well." I leaned over and kissed him again, deeply, as he caressed my naked flesh.

We broke after a moment, and he stood up suddenly. "I have something. If you want. I mean, I thought you might like to try something. Here."

He went over to the corner of the shed by the window and came back with two long pieces of cotton rope in his hands. He looked really nervous, and just stood in front of me.

"You want to tie me up?" I said with a slightly shocked voice.

"Well, no. I mean, not me. You seemed like, you maybe wanted someone. And you have done a lot for me, like, kissing me and showing me your boobs and stuff. I thought you would like it, but if not..." He turned, embarrassed.

"NO! Kevin, no, I just didn't expect it. This is like... a dream come true. I never even thought about it, but... would you?" I looked at him hopefully.

"Sure. Yeah, I think it would be fun. Let's do it!"

I stood. I was still naked from the waist up, but had my jeans and shoes on. He looked at me and his eyes widened as he saw my breasts standing out from my chest. They are perky breasts, if I do say so myself.

We worked out that he would tie my ankles together first, which he did with my help. I showed him a good knot which was secure but could be undone quickly. Then, he tied my wrists in front of me with the longer stretch of rope. I could already feel the pleasure rippling through my body from having someone tie me up; the feeling of helplessness and submission was such an adrenalin rush it was like I was getting high. Kevin seemed to enjoy it as well.

Once I was tied up I struggled a little to get free. With my help Kevin had tied some good knots, and they weren't loosening. He watched as I struggled and even hopped around the shack, my naked boobs bouncing a bit. It was about two in the afternoon, and warm. The sun streamed in through the open doorway and window. No one was around, but being tied up out in that field, even inside the confines of the shack, was exhilarating. I was flushed with excitement and pleasure, and just a little sweaty.

Kevin came over to me and took the trailing rope from my wrists. "I think you might get out of that if you try too hard. Let me try something."

He threw the rope up over a rusted metal hook in the wall a couple of feet above my head. When he pulled, my arms went up over my head and I was dragged to the wall. He pulled again and my arms stretched taught, until I was standing on my tip toes. I gasped slightly with the unexpected feeling of having most of my weight pulling on my wrists. Kevin gasped with the sight of my breasts pulled up, ribs extending and visible, as I rose as high as I could to relieve the pressure.

I dangled there as Kevin tied off the rope, my hands feeling like they were swelling from pressure as I pressed down as hard as I could with my toes to support myself. Every breath I took moved my breasts and made the tight flesh of my flat stomach expand and contract. Kevin was watching me intently. I was feeling wet and as aroused as I had ever been before. Being tied and truly helpless was a dream come true to me, and better than I had ever imagined.

"Siobhan, you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Hanging there, you look even better. Hotter. I have such a fucking hardon right now..." Kevin was breathing harder, and I could see the bulge in his jeans.

"Well, let's see it then." I said, wriggling a little.

"What?"

"Let's see that hard cock of yours, if it is so hard," I taunted him, still wriggling to try and find a more comfortable position that was eluding me.

Kevin hesitated a moment but when I gave him a come on, idiot kind of look, unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. It seemed to spring out of the V opened from his zipper, and he was right. It was hard. And big. I stared at it. I was wriggling in the ropes as much from sexual frustration as anything.

"I would touch it for you, but I seem to be tied up," I said.

He moved closer to me, placing his hands on my breasts, sliding his fingers over my nipples, and then running his hands around my back until he was pressed against me. Stretched up on the rope as I was, my head was almost as high as his and he kissed me again, this time pressing himself against me. I could feel his cock driving against my hip as he thrust, moving up and down, dry humping me.

"I want to fuck you more than anything right now." He whispered huskily in my ear as he continued to caress and dry hump me where I hung.

"Well, you aren't going to find a better time," I responded. It was true, too. Not only was I tied up and helpless to resist him, I was hornier than I had ever been, hornier than I believed possible. I had no judgment left, I just wanted fulfillment, sexual fulfillment. My helplessness and inability to take action to fulfill myself made my arousal even sharper.

Kevin reached for my jeans and unbuttoned them, pushing his hand down inside. His fingers reached and strained, pushing down and then pulling on my flesh until they reached the softness of my pussy. When they rubbed my clit for the first time I moaned again, gasping and trying hard to lift myself up and spread my legs, to encourage him deeper. I couldn't; I was hanging from the damned hook and was completely helpless as his fingers rummaged around inside my pants.

He pulled his hand out and used both hands to wriggle my tight jeans down over my hips, hooking his thumbs under my panties and pulling them down as well. They fell to my ankles, and I was hung naked and exposed before him. He pushed closer, his cock pressing against my bare belly, and kissed me again. I felt his cock slide against my flesh, and his ball sack pressed into the triangle of pubic mound.

I think he was going to try and fuck me as I hung there. He pushed several times, rubbing his cock against my stomach and then trying to squeeze between my thighs. I tried to help but I was hanging by my wrists with my ankles tied together. It was impossible, and we were both inexperienced. After humping me and groping me in that position he finally untied the rope and I slipped down to the floor, still bound hand and foot.

He climbed on top of me. I raised my knees and spread them, and even though I was still tied at the ankles I was able to open wider to accept him. He pressed his hips in between my legs, spreading me wider, placing some strain on my ankles where they were tied but I didn't care. His cock slid up one thigh and its head stopped just short, barely tickling the folds of my pussy. He looked at me expectantly as if I might scream and push him off at any moment. Instead, I pushed my hips up toward him.

I was dripping wet, literally. His cock found my pussy by itself and slid in almost effortlessly. When it passed inside me I moaned, loudly; the sensation was more amazing than I had ever imagined. His cock was harder than I thought it would feel, not as hard as a dildo but still really hard. But it had a texture, the feeling of real, live flesh that made me realize a living man had just entered my body. He grunted and then moaned with the sensation as he dipped deeper inside. It pushed all the way inside until I could feel him pressing my cervix.

He pulled most of the way out and I almost came. He pushed in again, harder, and his body pressed against my clit when he was buried all the way inside. He was big, and I wasn't used to it, and it hurt just a bit but I wanted that hurt, I wanted to be taken by him, the pain just sharpened my sensations of pleasure. He pushed several times more and I grunted with him and moaned and panted and then came in a glorious orgasm that rose slowly, warmth covering my hips and breasts and extending outward until my entire body was engulfed in pleasure.

I tried to reach up to pull him down to me, to feel his body resting on my nakedness, but my wrists were still tied. He continued thrusting, over and over, and the sensation of his being inside, having a boy inside, taking me and using me and fucking me, made my orgasm continue in a sort of rolling wave of warmth and pleasure.

Finally, his entire body tensed and he jerked his hips as his climax took hold of him. I could feel his cock harden even more and then spasm as he jerked and ejaculated inside me. He gasped with a low, guttural noise.

And then it was over. He was laying on top of me, still inside, still hard, but no longer moving. I was laying on the wood floor, exhausted and floating. His cock slowly slipped out and I felt liquid dribble down from my vagina onto my ass, and then the floor. He rolled off of me, his breathing returning to normal.

I had splinters in my ass from the old wood floor. A warm wind blew in from outside threw the open door and window, reminding me we were somewhat exposed in this shack, even though no one was typically around.

"I think you better untie me so I can get dressed." I said to him, nudging him.

"Oh. Yes. I am sorry..." He sprung up, shoved his glistening wet cock into his pants and zipped up. He was still bulging as he untied my ankles and wrists. I sat up and flexed, getting blood circulating again.

"Do you have a handkerchief or something?" I said to him, looking at the pool of slimy liquid soaking into the wood floor beneath my ass.

"What?" His eyes followed mine. "OH! Yes, oh my god, I am so sorry. Yes... here..."

I wiped myself, cleaning up before pulling my panties and jeans back up. He sat on the other side of the small room watching me.

"That was amazing, Siobhan. I didn't realize... it was so good. So ... amazing... That was... my first time, you know.... " He was still staring at my naked boobs as I turned to pull on my top.

"Yeah. I know. It was my first time too. I guess we popped each other, huh? Let's hope I don't get pregnant from it. That would be like, really embarrassing."

Kevin turned pale with shock. "Oh. Oh. I totally forgot. Oh, Siobhan, you don't think that will happen do you? God, after all they repeat to you over and over at school, use a condom, use a condom, and here I forgot and it will be all my fault--"

I cut him off. "It's OK Kev. I didn't plan it and neither did you. We both wanted it. I guess it was just our first time. Don't worry. Don't get all freaked out. It isn't the right time of month for me, so it is unlikely."

He calmed a little, and we talked about it some more was we walked back. I could feel more slime make its way down onto my panties as we hiked. I was going to have to do a little laundry at home before my mom got a hold of it.

Kevin and I visited the shack a few more times after that, playing and experimenting and even doing it. He learned to bring a condom with him, and even to tie me up in more interesting ways. I learned a lot about a number of things, including giving a hand job and what it is like to be truly helpless. I didn't get pregnant, thank God, and I made sure I carried condoms from then on, having learned not to trust guys to think ahead.

It all came to a screeching halt one day when his parents caught the two of us kissing in back of my grandma's house. We were quietly separated and watched from then on, never allowed alone with each other unless adults were present.

It didn't matter. Kevin was great for a first time. I wasn't in love with him, and I wanted to move on to bigger and better experiences, which I did.

Enema

It is embarrassing to admit that will all my experiences, the various men and women I have been with and kinky activities I have submitted myself to, I had never been given any sort of a forced enema. Now, I have to admit that I did receive an enema during a medical procedure when I was about 14 but it was sterile, uninteresting and I was half out of it anyway.

So, when Jason decided that my punishment for making him stop on a recent road trip for an unscheduled (and inconvenient) bathroom break was to be an enema, I didn't know what to think or expect.

It wasn't fair, really. We were traveling across northern Arizona and I had been drinking my usual large diet coke. I misjudged the distance between towns. I held it as long as I could but I needed to go, badly. My bladder was actually beginning to hurt. Have you ever had that happen, when you need to go so badly that you are actually in pain? Well, it was happening.

Jason pulled over to the side of the freeway and told me to pee in the dirt. I was shocked and humiliated.

"Jason, I am sorry. Is there any way we can find a place to pull over a little better? Is there a gas station or something coming up, even if it isn't a town?"

"Siobhan, I am tired of your constant physical quirks and needs. You need to get control of your body, and if you won't do that I will. You need to pee, then pee. Now."

I looked around. There were cars whizzing by at 80mph, and this strip of road was barren. No shrubs or bushes, just the car to hide me. I was blushing bright red as I pulled my jeans down and crouched close to the car.

"Step away from the car, and take those pants off. I don't want my car or your pants to get splattered because you can't control yourself," Jason commanded in a tired but firm manner.

I obeyed, stepping a few feet from the car and then slipping off my pants. My face was bent down, I was trying to ignore my nakedness that would be visible to all the cars driving past, however fast they were going. I crouched again and tried to pee.

It wasn't easy. I had held it so long it was hard to let go, and the knowledge that random strangers would see me squatting and knew exactly what I was doing humiliated me and made it even harder.  Finally I got the stream going and felt incredible relief as the urine flowed out of my bladder. I wiped myself with a tissue, pulled my pants back on, and we climbed back into the car and drove on.

////////

A few days later we were back home and back to work. It was a Wednesday, the middle of the work week and I was in the swing of our routine. I work as a director of IT at a large company. No one there knows of my ownership, though the collar I wear is clear for all to see. Most assume it is simply a piece of jewelry (they don't know it can't and isn't removed).

When I got home I removed my clothes, as is my current habit, and put on a simple leather harness that Jason has provided. I began preparing the evening meal, and cleaning up so the house would be nice for my owner when he came home from work.  We ate and enjoyed the evening together. Jason played with me with some clamps after dinner, which always makes me feel special and loved. I do enjoy it when he pays attention to me and makes me feel beautiful. He told me my discomfort makes me more beautiful and desirable to him.

He then informed me of his disappointment over the incident where I had to pee along side of the road. It had embarrassed him, as well as myself, and he had promised a punishment. He had decided on the punishment and was going to administer it tonight. This punishment would begin a new phase in my training as his slave and property -- and emphasis on training me to control my body functions.

My stomach felt like cold ice. He had something in mind and I knew it was going to be unpleasant.

Jason led me to the bedroom and told me to lay face down on the bed, with my legs and hips extended over the edge. This position made me nervous because I have been in it several times before when he has administered anal punishment and it gave me a hint as to what was coming. I obediently lay on the bed, my breasts and face pressing into the comforter.

My legs were spread and fastened into a spreader bar. My ankles were held about three feet apart. Not a huge amount, but enough to prevent me from closing access to the sensitive parts between my legs. He grabbed my left wrist and pulled it behind my back and I felt the cold metal of handcuffs snap in place. The cuffs were attached to my leather harness, so when my right wrist was also fasted in place, my hands were held high up my back, away from my ass.

I waited nervously.

Turning my head to the side I could see Jason take out a set of flesh colored rubber gloves, the kind they used in hospitals. My body was shaking a little in anticipation of the pain that was undoubtedly in store, and I thought I might lose control of my bladder and pee on the floor.

I turned my face into the blanket of the bed and started crying. Jason punishes me periodically for misbehavior, and I knew this session was not going to be fun. Rough hands covered with latex grabbed my hair and pulled my head back. A strip of duct tape covered my mouth and then my head was released. My face buried back into the bed and I continued crying.

Rubber fingers spread my ass cheeks. I automatically clenched, reacting to the intrusion.

"Relax, and this will be a lot easier. This won't hurt too badly if you cooperate," he said.

I tried to relax. His fingers reached in deeper and touched my anus. I contracted, and then tried hard to release.

After examining my ass he left me and went into the bathroom. I lay waiting, unable to move much and wondering what was coming. The noise of water running in the bathroom gave me my first hint, and I turned to observe Jason filling a remarkably large rubber bag. It must have held two gallons and he was filling it to the top.

Tears flowed afresh from my eyes and began to wet the bed beneath my fact. I knew what was coming as he returned from the bathroom and positioned himself between my spread legs. His rubber gloved hand spread my ass cheeks forcefully and one finger pushed hard against my anus, slipping in relatively easily.

His finger withdrew and I realized he had simply been inserting and spreading some lube into my opening. The next moment I felt something very hard like a plastic finger pressing against my anus, pushing hard and then breaking through. It slid easily inside with the lube he had applied. It was impossible to tell how far it slid but it felt like at least six inches. With a final shove, a large lump in the nozzle pushed into my rectum and my anus instinctively clenched shut behind it, keeping it inside.

It was useless to plead, but I tried anyway. The gag muffled my moans and cries but I tried. Jason caressed by bare ass, sliding his fingers over my hips and between my legs, feeling every fold, as I cried.

Between the leg spreader, my hands cuffed behind my back, and the tape gag, I was going nowhere and was pretty much helpless. I lay still and tried to breathe, still laying on the bed on my stomach with my ass and legs hanging over the edge.

Then I felt it. It was cool at first and then cold, spreading from my rectum and then up into my bowels. The plastic finger of the enema nozzle released cold water gushing into my insides. I moaned and then growled into my gag and struggled a bit. The water kept coming, creeping higher as it filled my lower intestines. At this point I was humiliated more than anything. Jason continued to touch and feel my body as the cold water flowed into me.

As the water flowed in the cold sensation was accompanied by a bloated feeling. This gave way to cramps. The cold water inspired my intestines to begin peristalsis, the natural contractions designed to repel and eject matter out the anus. Except, of course, the matter was coming in through my anus so the contractions just made it worse. I moaned in pain and tried to draw my knees up to make it a little easier.

After a couple of minutes Jason cut off the flow of water. "I think we will give you a rest before we continue the flow. Let your bowels have a chance to adapt."

I turned my head and saw Jason removing his pants. His cock was hard and I couldn't help become aroused at the site. Jason is quite a site; fit, healthy, and his cock is large enough to satisfy any woman. Seeing it hard and standing out made me want him, in spite of the full, bloated feeling.

The cramps subsided after a while, though the feeling of bloating did not. Jason returned to the enema bag and began the flow again.

Additional cramps hit me almost immediately. I yelped and writhed a little. I didn't think it was normal to have this much fluid in an enema; it was getting really painful. The cramps hit me throughout my entire abdomen and I moaned and cried as I writhed helpless against the handcuffs and leg spreader. Jason caressed my body, feeling my muscles contract and struggle, enjoying my pain.

Finally the enema bag was empty, though my bowels were full well beyond capacity. I wasn't crying any more but I was moaning against the tape gag and trying to draw my knees up to my stomach to relieve the cramping. It felt horrible.

"Now, my love, I will be removing the nozzle. When I do, I don't want any accidents. Nothing. Not a drop. If there is, we will have to continue this mode of training in much more detail, and with more severe consequences." Jason caressed my face, and I looked up and nodded to show him I understood.

Slowly, he pulled the enema nozzle out. It was impossible not to let some of the water out, and I clenched my sphincter as tight as I could against the plastic finger as it slid out. With a final sensation very similar to releasing some shit into a toilet, the nozzle slid all the way out and I closed my ass muscles as hard as I could.

I can not tell you how hard it was to keep all the water inside. My body was screaming at me to expel the foreign substance, the muscles of my intestines were contracting and pressing to move it down and out, and yet I was holding my ass shut as tight as I could. It was horrible, painful, agonizing. I started breathing in short pants, coping with the pain and natural urges. My legs drew up even though my ankles were held apart by the spreader. I whimpered.

Jason took hold of my shoulders and pulled me across the bed until my head was near the edge. I think it would have been easier to hold the water in if I had not been laying on my stomach. In this position, it was more painful and difficult to retain the liquid. It took every bit of my concentration and effort.

The tape gag was removed from my mouth. I gasped for air, breathing even harder. I knew better than to beg for mercy, that made Jason angrier and would result in more punishment. I panted, breathing through my mouth now, keeping the water inside my distended belly.

As I lay with my head hanging just over the edge of the bed, Jason presented his cock before my face. In the back of my mind I knew what I had to do but the pain of retaining the enema was occupying my mind completely. Jason brought my attention back to him by slapping my face.

"Suck it." His command was calm, simple, and to be obeyed.

I did. I took his large cock in my mouth and sucked it in as deep as I could. My tongue spread and pressed and played with the underside of his member. He withdrew it most of the way and my lips slid and stimulated the head, and he plunged deep in again. In this way, he began fucking my mouth.

I honestly believe I could have held the enema if it hadn't been for the distraction of his cock choking me from the other end. He pushed in and out, penetrating my face, using me to stimulate his member until with a grunting moan he pulled just out of my mouth and spurted semen all over my face. It went onto my hair, into my eyes, and up my nose. My eyes stung and I coughed slightly.

That's when it happened.

It wasn't a lot, but enough to soil my ass and dribble down across my pussy and puddle on the comforter. Jason checked it, and confirmed what had happened.

"I am sorry, Siobhan, but it appears you can't control yourself. We will have to schedule some punishment and more training for body function control."

He left the room. I remained on the bed, his semen drying on my face, my hips laying in a pool of my own diarrhea. I hung my head in humiliation, still concentrating on keeping the enema inside and not making my failure worse. Tears trickled slowly down my cheeks.

When Jason came back he was dressed again, and he unlocked the handcuffs and removed the leg spreader. I lay on the bed, afraid that any movement would make me lose control again. The pain was making me shudder and convulse as it had spread across my entire abdomen and stomach. I was nauseous, afraid I would vomit.

"Go relieve yourself, and then clean up."

I carefully slid across the bed and then into the bath room. walking in tiny steps as if I was an old, old woman. Each step renewed the pain. I could see how my stomach was distended from all the water inside. Sitting on the toilet, I let loose to an explosion, a steady stream that seemed to go on and on. When it finally slowed and stopped, I sat there still, knowing that some of the water had made its way high up inside me and would be appearing at any moment. And it did; after about a minute, there was another stream of water with chunks of feces that shot out. The relief was huge.

Fifteen minutes later, I had showered quickly and was changing the bedspread and sheets. The room smelled of my body and I continually flushed in embarrassment.

Late that evening, I was feeling better and the room was clean and fresh. I lay next to Jason and he held me in his arms, protecting and caring for me. I had stopped crying and was wrapped around him lovingly. He let me know that we would be revisiting the practice of controlling my body functions in various ways. It was all right. It was my purpose to serve him and suffer for him.

And, for now, it was over and I was in his arms.

Discovering Play

I had discovered self bondage almost by accident, but it had such a powerful impact on me that I had played with it more and more, learning how to tie basic knots, how to gag myself, and so on.  The problem was that to be truly bound and helpless, you had to have a way to get out that wasn't under your control. I wasn't experienced in timed release mechanisms and the like, and being a young teen living at home with parents, most methods were not available to me due to cost, complications, or unreliability. Self bondage was therefore an adventure that I continued, but also a continuing frustration.

My first relief came during a sleepover with a few other girlfriends; my friend Teresa had invited myself and two others over while her parents were out of town. She had permission, and her parents figured it would be OK; she was a babysitter after all and was used to being on her own.  I brought a bottle of vodka and Janine brought some rum, and we were set.

After a couple of hours of drinking, I was about ready for anything. We had been swapping sex stories about various guys we had dated, and it was easy to bring the conversation around to the topic of bondage. I just mentioned that my boyfriend had wanted to tie me up.

"Yeah, he was wanting to tie my wrists behind my back. God, I don't believe how kinky he is..." I giggled a little.

"God, he is! You wouldn't let him do that, would you?" Coleen, the sporty girl in the group asked with big eyes.

"I don't know. It probably doesn't matter, because I am sure I could get out of anything he tried to tie me in."

Teresa wasn't buying it. "You are way too confident. I bet he could tie you up and rape you and there would be nothing you could do about it. Don't let him."

"I don't believe it. No way," I shook my head. "I could get out of any tie he tried. I am sure of it."

"Well, since you are so confident, why don't you let us tie you up and see if you can get out of it? Hmmm?" Cindy was the snide one of the bunch. I believed she actually wanted to tie me up.

"OK. Let's do it. I challenge you to tie me up so I can't get out. I let you tie me, and then I have up to half an hour to get out."

"HA! You are on!" Cindy was eager. "But what do we get if you can't get out? Hmmm?"

Teresa had an idea. She ran off, and then came back with something. She brandished it and announced proudly, "Here is your punishment. If you can't get out, we get to do you with this!"

It was a dildo. It had to be her parents. I couldn't believe it. I had seen pictures, but had never seen one "live" before. It was way bigger than I thought it would be. I had fucked my boyfriend Kevin by then and was no virgin, but this was something new.

"What? What are you going to do with that?"

"Fuck you, of course. You can't get untied, we get to use this on you!" Teresa was positively drooling with the idea, Cindy was as well. Coleen didn't look so sure.

"Wait, guys... that's your parent's. They are going to know you used it, and besides, its not ... sanitary.. ugh..."

Cindy pulled something out of her purse. It was a condom. "See? Perfectly hygienic. Lubed, too. I know because I used one last Saturday with Sean."

Little did these girls know that this was beyond my wildest dreams.

They made me take my PJs and panties off because they said that when I failed to get out of the ropes they would need me naked for the consequence -- the dildo. I pouted and complained but finally removed everything. I stood before them naked.

"Lay down on the bed. Face down." Cindy was taking the lead. I did as I was told, laying on my stomach on the middle of her bed. Coleen grabbed one of my wrists and pulled it behind my back. Cindy grabbed the other and crossed them together. I felt the rope going around my wrists and knew it was a mistake. Looping rope around like that would be easy to get out of.

But then, after two loops, Cindy shifted and looped the rope across my wrists in the other direction. I could feel the tie tightening against my wrists. It was at that point I began to consider I might have a tough time getting out of the ropes, and the thought immediately had me aroused. I was getting wet. I hoped it wasn't obvious.

My head was forced into the pillow and my hands were secured behind my back. I thought they would stop there, but they didn't.

"There is extra rope," Coleen was saying. I could feel Cindy taking it and pulling my wrapped wrists tight. I grunted a bit and wriggled.

"We aren't done yet. No wiggling." Cindy straddled my back, holding me down. Feeling her pussy against my bare back turned me on even more. Coleen and Teresa grabbed my ankles and bent my legs back toward my wrists.

"Hey..." I said, muffled into the pillow.

"Quiet, Siobhan, we never said what we would tie. This is part of the deal." The rope was going around my ankles in the same criss cross pattern. Cindy was pulling it tight. I felt her breasts brushing my bare ass cheeks and felt my arousal spike from the sensation. God, I was hot. My wrists really were tied tightly, and my ankles were well on their way.

Finally the rope was tight around my ankles and I was in a loose hogtie.

"Tuck the extra rope... what do we do with it? She will get loose if you leave it out like that?" Teresa was observing and commenting.

"Here," Coleen said, taking the remaining rope. Apparently there was a lot of it. She pulled my ankles up in back, forcing my back into a slightly curved position. She then threaded the rope under my body at the waist, back to my wrists, wrapped around a few more times my wrists and my waist. When she was done, my legs were pulled back tightly, my wrists were held up at the small of my back, unable to move, and the whole thing was secured with the rope going around my waist.

I was tied up, and good. I began to wonder if Cindy had experience at this.

"OK, Siobhan. Half an hour." Teresa was giggling.

On the one hand, there I was, naked and struggling on my friend Teresa's bed, tied tighter than I had ever been able to tie myself. I wriggled and writhed, uncomfortable from the angles of my legs, back and arms. It was humiliating and somewhat painful.

On the other hand I was so aroused I thought I was going to orgasm right then.

Struggling on the bed, I rolled over to my side. My body was tied back in the reversed "O" of a good hogtie, and it thrust my breasts and stomach out. The other girls were watching me, enjoying every minute of my struggle. I, on the other hand, was finally feeling the helplessness of being totally under another's control; I was tied up and discovering there was no way out. I could see my tormentors and it turned me on. Right at that moment, there was only one thing that would have made me more excited and happier.

Unfortunately, I was going to have to wait another 25 minutes for that.

I lay on the bed, straining and writhing, as Coleen went out and got some chips from the kitchen. The three girls sat and munched, drinking the rum as I struggled and writhed. My legs split open, showing off my pussy for them all to see.

"You know something, I think this might be the hottest thing I have ever seen." Teresa was staring at me. I could tell she was aroused.

"You know what she needs?" Cindy got up and picked up something from the floor. The other girls looked at it with a curious look. It was the panties I had removed just a half hour before. Cindy moved over to me and as I opened my mouth to ask what she was doing she shoved the panties into my mouth. My eyes got big and I squealed a muffled noise of surprise.

"Oh, that's just perfect. Oh, yes. Wait, that needs something!" Teresa ran off and returned with duct tape.

"Mppphpmpppphhhh!!!!!!" I cried. The tape made a tearing sound as she pulled it off the roll and spread it halfway around my face.  "MPPSHJHHHHPPPJHHHHHH!!!"

"She is soooo getting off on this!" Teresa was saying to Cindy. Coleen had moved into position to begin my dildo fucking. I had 10 minutes before that began, but it appeared she was eager.

Colleen reach between my legs and carefully touched my pussy. She pulled her fingers back and proclaimed with some disbelief, "Hey... guys... she is like. Wet. Really, wet."

I was, too. Colleen's touch had almost made me cum, right then. I had never had sex with a girl before, but I was ready. I wanted any of the girls to touch me, control me, take me while I was bound and helpless.

"OMG... she is! Come here, Teresa, feel this!" Cindy had touched me as well. I writhed helplessly on the bed, making muffled mewling noises.

Teresa touched me. No, she didn't just touch me, she felt me up. Slid her fingers across and down my slit. I writhed and pressed against her. My nipples were hard. I wanted them to do me, then, right then.

But they didn't. They held back, intent on reaching the thirty minute mark. The frustration was incredible. My ankles and wrists throbbed. My back was cramping. I kept flushing with embarrassment from the way I exposed myself as I wriggled. I collapsed back and lay quiet for a while until the cramps set in and then wriggled again to try and find a better position.

My first warning that I had reached the end of the 30 minutes was the feeling of something hard pressing against my pussy lips. I raised my head with a jerk and saw Teresa between my splayed legs with a determined smile. As she pushed harder, slipping the naturally soft dildo deep inside me, I moaned and rolled over, spreading my legs wide and pushing back.

She raped me slow, to begin with. A steady slow rhythm, slow in and then a little quicker out. Slow in again, a little deeper, then faster out. Slowly the rhythm gained momentum. I shuddered and came, an orgasm that made me forget where and who I was.

It continued. Teresa didn't stop. Whether she didn't know I had orgasmed or didn't care, she kept going, increasing the rhythm, moving the dildo from side to side, alternately pressing against my clit and my anus. My hips continued thrusting back against it and my muscles strained against my bonds.

I didn't want to get free. I wanted the restraints. They brought me to orgasm so much faster. Colleen was in front of me kissing my face, brushing the hair away gently. I was sweating profusely, and the rhythm of the fucking was getting faster. My hips were struggling along with it and I was moaning behind the panty gag as best I could. Colleen had my breasts then, hands around then, pinching the nipples. The dildo plunged in so deep I could feel it pressing my cervix up and yet I thrust against it, asking for more.

I came again. This time loudly, or as loud as the gag would let me. I panted and cried out, muscles shaking and straining as I bucked against the unnatural thing penetrating me deeply.

And then it was over. They were untying me. The gag came off and I gasped, panting for air. The ropes holding my wrists were unwound, and my legs released.

Cramping hit me even worse. I had to ease my limbs out ever so slowly, straightening out one inch at a time.

Cindy was grinning the whole time. "Gosh, Siobhan. You sorta enjoyed that. A lot. If I didn't know better I would say you are one kinky bitch."

Colleen held my head, watching to make sure I was OK.

"One kinky lesbian bitch," Teresa said. "You made that look like I wanted to join in. Like... I have never really wanted to touch a girl before, but babe... you make me want you."

I grinned at Teresa at that moment, and then reached up to Colleen and kissed her full on the lips.

"Just promise me we can do this again, sometime," I said.

The Collar

When we were married and I became the committed, owned slave of my master and husband Jason, I received a ring on my finger representing my commitment as a wife. In addition, I received a collar, a neck ring if you will. This collar represents my becoming an owned thing, giving up all my self will in favor of obedience to my master.

The collar can not be removed without a special tool which Jason keeps safely hidden in a location I am unaware of. He can remove it, but I can not. It is loose enough to fit comfortably around my neck but just tight enough it would never go over my head. It is a beautiful steel, shiny and decorative. It can be cut through but not without a metal saw, which would be difficult and rather dangerous that close to my skin.

My collar is a part of me now. A constant reminder of who I am and my position in life. The fact that only one man can remove it is both symbolic and very real; I am tied to Jason both psychologically and physically.

I keep the collar beautiful, shining and oiling it as needed. It is always kept clean. I usually wear a decorative pendant, containing a jewel of some sort. My favorite is a sapphire piece that Jason gave me for my birthday.

Very few people ask about my collar. Those who don't know assume it is simply my favorite piece of jewelry. Those who do know... well... they know. A couple of times someone has asked if it was indeed a slave collar; I have always been proud to answer that it is, that I am owned property.

More Self Discovery

My first experience trying to tie myself up was unsatisfactory in that I never really achieved a complete helplessness. At the time, I didn't think it could be achieved, but felt that I wanted it. I began daydreaming about being tied up in ways that I could not escape from.

I did a little research, and played with knots when I could. My parents and brother were usually home and I couldn't really do much with them around, but I actually learned some things in the privacy of my own room. Then one day, my parents and brother went out and were not scheduled to return until dinner time. I had a solid four hours to play alone, and I prepared for it.

The parents left, telling me not to get into trouble. I was 14, a freshman in high school, and was still a virgin but just barely. I had been dating a couple of guys informally and sneaked out to see one of them when I could. I could easily have gotten one of them over to get into trouble, but at this point I wanted to see what I could do alone.

This time, I stripped first. The experience before was exciting and turned me on, a lot. I wanted to experience that again. The sensation of being naked increased my sense of daring, as well as making me feel vulnerable and excited. I was wet between my legs before I removed my panties. Touching myself with my hand, I rubbed my clit for a while, just feeling the sensation of being completely naked in the house, and the sensual turn on of anticipating being tied up.

I began with my ankles. It was an easy decision. This time though, I crossed my ankles before tying, and used the rope to crisscross the ankles. This spread my legs while still tying me securely. I tested the tie a bit, making sure it was secure, and then played with myself for a while, masturbating and  taking the wetness on my fingers to my nipples.

Next, I took some panties from my laundry. They weren't "dirty", but they weren't fresh either. I put them in my mouth, pushing the cloth deep inside the cavity of my left cheek, then inside the center over my tongue, and then pushing into my right cheek. It wasn't nearly enough. I could feel that the gag wasn't complete, so I got up to find some more cloth.

And fell over, because my ankles were tied. DUH. Rather than untie and retie my ankles, I dragged myself over to my laundry and sorted through for something suitable. All I found was a pair of gym socks. I considered briefly whether I wanted them stuffed inside my mouth and decided it would have to do. Restuffing my panties in, I followed them with the socks. When I was done, my cheeks were bulging and my tongue was pushed down and back, my mouth was so full. I dragged myself back to my desk where I had some wide silver tape I had gotten from my dad's tool box.

The cloth kept coming out. I stuffed it back in and then started wrapping the tape around my wide open but full mouth. My hair was tied back in a pony so it wasn't too hard to get the tape all around my head and around my mouth several times. After about 10 wraps around, I decided it was secure and stopped for a bit to consider my next move.

That gag was strong and effective. I couldn't make much noise. I sat on the floor with my knees spread and masturbated some more. The feeling of helplessness I wanted was coming on and exciting me as I moved my fingers inside myself, pushing and sliding over my clit. My nipples were hard. I pinched them, and felt a surge of pleasure and excitement. I pinched them harder, feeling a little pain that simply excited me more. It was then I had another idea.

Mouth gagged securely and ankles tied I dragged myself into the bathroom next to my own room. There I found a basket that contained what I wanted - clothespins. I grabbed a handful and dragged myself back to my room. I was getting rug burn and realized I wasn't as prepared as I thought I was. Time to get a move on.


One clothespin in hand, I pulled and massaged one erect nipple to its fullest and then placed the clamp on it. As the spring pressed down and closed on the sensitive flesh, I emitted a muffled yelp! It hurt a lot more than I thought it would. I quickly removed the pin, and yelped again as it came off. Wow, that was intense. But I wanted it, desperately. Weirder and weirder I thought, but I was so hot and aroused by now I could take the pain. I put the clamp back on my left nipple, cringing at the pain and waiting a moment before massaging my right breast, pulling the nipple out and clamping it as well.

Fuck, it hurt. But strangely as I sat there and felt the pain, it seemed to diminish. It ached, but I could take it.

I took a rope down from the top of my desk. It had been pretied in a way I had learned by doing a little research. It was a way of tying my wrists by using a knot that was already tied in a loop, then just pulling the loop tight.  I had already thought through how to pull on the loop to tighten around my wrists. The other end of the rope would go around my ankles, of course!  They would naturally pull and tighten the loop, right?

One end of the rope went around my ankles. It was looped, not tied. I pulled on it to make sure it was secure around my ankles and then moved away to a pre-tied rope that was on the floor next to me. This was the special treat of which I was so proud; I had played with it before to get it right.

It was a sort of figure 8 tie, that had two loops on each end with the rope wrapped in the middle. The loops would cinch tighter if pulled (though not a lot, I hadn't gotten that part perfected yet). Reaching my arms behind my back I slid each loop of the figure 8 over one of my hands. By pushing and rolling the ropes higher, I managed to get them up to my elbows before my arms couldnt stand it any more and I relaxed, spreading my elbows apart and cinching the rope tight around my arms. My elbows were now about a foot or so apart behind my back.

I lay there for a moment. My hands were still free but the tie around my elbows had restricted me, a lot. My breathing was fast and shallow, partly from the effort I had put into getting the elbow ropes on, and partly because I was so aroused. I wanted to cum but reaching my clit was no longer possible. It was time for the last step.

I lay on my side and bent my knees as much as I could. The rope that went around my ankles and ended in the wrist loops was too short; I needed to get my feet further up. I wriggled to where I could press my knees against the desk for support and then curved and bent my back so that I could reach my hands all the way to my feet. I grabbed the loops (there was one for each wrist with a wrapping in between) and managed to get my wrists into them.

It had been a huge struggle to get myself tied and I finally relaxed. As I relaxed, my legs moved away from my wrists a few inches and pulled the cinch tie tight. Whamo! I felt it immediately. The rope encircled my wrists, my body naturally pulling my legs away and keeping the cinch tight. Wow, it felt good. I was helpless.

I lay on my side, panting a bit. I had successfully and unwittingly placed myself into a rather tight, constricting hogtie. It felt marvelous. I wriggled, and all it did was make the ropes tighter. I rolled onto my stomach, and felt my legs sag down and pull my arms back and shoulders up. I was in an inverted curve and either my shoulders would be pulled back or my legs would have to be pushed up.

The clothespins on my nipples continued to hurt, but not nearly as badly as when I had first put them on. The flesh ached, and I realized for the first time that my self tie prevented me from stopping the pain. My wrists and hands were aching from the tight ropes which constricted blood flow. I forced myself back to relieve some of the tightness, and got no relief.

I rolled over again, considering my predicament. I was stark naked on the floor of my room. My breasts jutted out in front of me, with clothespins on the nipples. My wrists were effectively tied to my ankles, which were in turn tied in a way that forced my knees apart, exposing my pussy. I had done better than I had ever imagined. I writhed for a little while, struggling.

My ties were complete. I was secure, and it was going to be damn hard to get out of. The elbow ropes were the surprise to me; the effectively stopped me from moving my wrists around to reach the knots. I hadn't bargained on this and I began to wonder how I was going to get out of this.

OK. Yeah. I was 14, and naive. Really naive. I may have prepared for this play session and set things up for a secure self bondage session but I hadn't thought far enough ahead to make sure I could get out of it.  Panic rippled across my body and I started struggling and writhing. I saw the clock. Two hours had passed, my parents would be home in two hours and find me here! Excuses ran through my head, explanations. A rogue rapist had broken into the house and tied me up. That was it, I could explain it that way. Except the house was locked from the inside and there was no break in. What was I going to do?

The ropes were tight, and I wriggled my hands to try and get free. My jaw was hurting from how far wide it was being held open; I bit down on the panties and socks, that helped a bit. My nipples were burning with a deep pain that was turning into numbness. My legs were cramping, and when they cramped I automatically tried to move them out straight, which pulled on the wrist cinch until my hands hurt, badly.  I started to cry. I tried to yell. Nope... the gag was a good one. It muffled the sound.

Finally, I stopped. It was time to get real and think. There was only one way out that I could think of, it was a long shot but I had to try.  I had to get a knife from the kitchen and cut myself loose.

If you have ever been in a hogtie, you will know that it isn't easy to travel in it. Small movements can be made with a lot of effort. The most effective way to move is to roll to one side, scoot legs forward then roll to the other side, and so on. When I got into the hall, I tried rolling all the way over onto my back. It was humiliating, as my body arched up, pushing my hips into the air with my legs spread wide as if I were welcoming some guy to fuck me.

It was incredibly slow going, and every move made the ropes tighter. About a half hour later and most of the way down the hall my right nipple clamp rubbed off and I screamed in pain. I had no idea that taking the clamps off would be more painful than putting them on; I lay there on the hall carpet and sobbed into my gag for a bit and then pressed my other breast down and wriggled until that clamp came off as well. I screamed again and then began wriggling down the hall toward the kitchen.

In the kitchen, I was faced with a difficulty. The knives were sitting in a knife block on the counter. The counter was about 3 feet higher than I was. I lay looking at the knives and cried, tears running down my face and over the tape of my self imposed gag.

There was a footstool in the corner. That was the only option. Slowly, painfully, I wriggled over to it. When I reached it I pushed it with my head, two or three inches at a time. It finally made it over to the counter.

My whole body ached and cramped. It hurt horribly. My left leg had a charlie horse, and my shoulders ached as well. My jaw ached from the gag. I writhed, feeling the wetness between my legs which indicated I was still aroused beyond belief.

Right then, at that moment, I decided I needed a boyfriend to help me. I wasn't going to tie myself up again. I needed a guy to be there, to control me. It made sense. I wanted to feel helpless and I was amazed at how horny I was tied up like this, but I also knew I needed to be submitting to someone else, not just tying myself up.  Strangely, this thought motivated me and I started the task of getting my body up onto the first step of the stepstool.

My breasts rested on the first step, flattened out on display. The metal edge of the step scraped against my ribs as I wriggled a few inches higher, leaning against the step. Inch by inch I pushed my body higher, leaning against the steps.

Thank god there was a plate at the top, next to the block of knives. I pushed it with my head and the knives slid. I pushed and maneuvered until finally the knives fell from the counter to the floor with a loud clatter. I literally threw myself down off the step stool and landed on the floor next to the knives. I got one in my hand (which was numb) and started sawing.

The clock on the wall said I had 10 minutes. I sawed faster. It wasn't working. I was getting the barest bit of rope to separate. At this rate it was going to take an hour. I fumbled around, feeling the knives, finally finding one with a serrated edge. That one worked better. The rope began to fray and stretch. I sawed harder, unable to be very effective because of limited movement. Suddenly, my legs straightened out. The rope from my ankles to my wrists had given way and I was no longer bent back. I let out a muffled whoop and then cry as the cramps rolled through my naked body once again.

Once the rope around my wrists was cut away from my ankles, I was able to work them free. I was then able to roll and move the elbow restraints and finally undo my ankles. When the gag came off it hurt like the dickens, the tape taking some of the hair behind my neck with it. The panties and socks came out, and I was free.

The parents were 10 minutes late. I gathered the remnants of rope, tape and gag together and limped to my room. I hid the remains of my bondage, lay down on the bed, spread my legs wide and started masturbating furiously. I came in less than a minute, after which I lay panting and recovered from my experience.

When my parents came home a few minutes later I was showering. I was bruised, had some minor scrapes, but was none the worse for the bondage.

I knew what I wanted then. And I also knew I needed someone else to play with in order to get it.

Self Discovery

I have been asked numerous times how I became involved in bondage, pain, and eventually into a submissive relationship that is entirely and completely fulfilling. So, here are some of my memories and recollections. Ultimately, there is no reason why. There is no triggering event, no special perversion caused by an abusive parent. There was simply a growing and passionate desire for certain things.

My earliest memory of bondage was when I was still pretty young; before I started dating any boys. I was a virgin, and while kissing behind the gym was an interesting new activity I was far from being sexually active. Yes, I had matured well, had breasts and an overall womanly shape with long dark hair, and was even considered a bit of a slut by kids in school (they were jealous, mostly).  Let me also be clear. At this point in my life I didn't even know that bondage and SM existed as a fetish. I had seen no pictures, read no stories, never talked of it, and was unaware that it was a sensual activity engaged in by anyone.

My family lived in a decent lower middle class house with a two car garage. We only had one car, so the other half of the garage was dedicated to a lot of the usual junk. It was there that one day I found some rope. A long, soft length of rope. I had entered using the back door from the back yard, and the main front door that tipped up for cars was down, and it was dark and quiet. A single light bulb from the back lit the unfinished interior.

I remember sitting on the floor in my jeans and playing with knots. In order to get a good position for the rope I wrapped it around my ankles and then practiced tying various knots. Wriggling to get out, I found it rather easy to loosen the knot or stretch the rope and get free. So, I wrapped the rope tighter around my ankles a few more times, providing a sturdier based and tried a different knot technique (I was completely naive to knots and was making things up as I went along).

There came a point when I had the rope around my ankles and knees, with a tie at the ankles and was working on the knot at the knees when the most horrible of noises came -- the front garage door had its bolt slid out and moments later the springs creaked as it slowly lifted up. I was sitting on the floor half tied and desperately trying to undo the knots as the door rose and my older brother walked in. My cheeks were burning with embarrassment, and the rope was rapidly removed.

"Whatcha doin?" My brother looked at me with idle interest. He didn't really care what his younger sister was doing that much.

"Uh, I was just bored. Wanted to see if I could tie some knots. What are you doing here, perv?" And that was that. I forget what happened after that, but whatever it was, was unremarkable and passed quickly.

What stayed with me was the feeling I had while my legs had been tied up like that. There was this desire to see if I could really tie myself up and truly restrict myself. The desire wasn't pure, either, it was something dark that I knew wasn't going to be accepted or condoned and was humiliated when it was discovered. I knew that the sensation I had as I felt my legs bound and restricted was exciting to me in a very new way. What was more strange was how excited I felt being discovered; the humiliation that I had experienced when my brother walked in was like a huge adrenalin rush and stuck with me.

I didn't realize it at the time, but it was a sexual rush.

Being discovered playing with the rope was a huge rush and made the whole experience exciting. I wasn't stupid though, and I knew that if I was to try to do this again and was discovered again, it might result in interference. Like, my parents being told, and maybe being sent to a councilor or punished or yelled at. So, I was more careful the next time. This meant waiting until there was no one to interrupt me, which took a while. It eventually came when my parents were visiting my grandparents for the afternoon, and my brother had gone off to be in some music thing he had. I was alone for several hours.

It never struck me as strange at the time, and maybe doesn't even strike me as strange now given my life style, but I had been waiting weeks for the opportunity to try self bondage again. During these weeks I had thought of various reasons why I had found the tie easy to get out of, and how to improve it. I also imagined how it could be extended. The idea of both my legs and arms being restrained appealed to me, excited me, and was part of my agenda that afternoon.

I locked the doors to the garage this time; it would be easier to explain why I was in there with doors locked than why I was trussed up like a chicken, should someone come home early. Sitting on the floor with the rope, I began.

Looping the rope and then wrapping it around my ankles and then threading back through the rope a couple of times created a very tight tie with 8 loops of rope around my ankles. I wriggled, found it getting loose and tightened it until it hurt a bit. The pain felt satisfying, because I knew the rope was tight enough it wouldn't come off. I didn't realize it but the pain also gave me a shot of adrenalin and enhanced the experience; pain was accepted then and continued to be accepted as part of the bondage experience for me ever since.

Stretching the two strands of rope up and then around my knees I performed the same looping, threading and tightening. I tied it off and sat there for a bit, concentrating on the helpless feeling in my legs. It was satisfying. It felt good, in the oddest way I couldn't explain.

It wasn't enough though. I needed more. My legs were immobile (I rolled around on the floor a bit to see just how immobile), but the rest of my body was free and I could feel how that diminished the entire experience. Something was wrong. I needed to tie my wrists.

Sitting on the floor, my legs bent at the knees so I sat slightly crooked, I tied my wrists in front of me. That was tough. Really, tough. You need at least one free hand to tie a knot. I managed to wrap rope around my wrists and pull it tight, but a knot was impossible. I simply wrapped the rope around about 10 times and threaded it through as much as I could, and decided that was enough.

Sitting with my legs tied was uncomfortable so I lay down. My hands tied helped, and the experience was getting closer to what I knew I desired deep down-- being bound and helpless. Still, it wasn't there. I sat up and attempted to retie my hands behind my back. This was better-- the feeling of helplessness was stronger, and I was getting aroused. This was the first time I realized that being bound and helpless was sexually arousing to me; it didn't seem odd because I was still discovering my sexuality and everything seemed new and exciting.

I lay down on the floor for a while, feeling the experience of being pseudo-restrained. My legs were secure, but my wrists were an illusion. I could live with that for a while, but the experience wasn't complete.

All in all, I spent about 2 hours in the garage, trying to get the ropes tighter, the knots more secure, actually trying to get a good knot in my wrists so I couldn't just wriggle out. The whole experience was incredibly exciting, arousing, and tantalizing to me.

While I was tied, I actually spent some time getting the handle of a broom between my legs (I was still wearing jeans) and getting it to rub. Once I got it between my legs and extending through and pressing against my crotch, my hands (tied behind) grabbed it and managed to move it back and forth a little. The whole experiment was turning more and more into a sexual exploration.

Realizing I didn't know how much time had passed and I needed to stop, I wriggled free of the rope around my wrists, and undid the rope around my legs. The clock inside the house indicated I probably had an hour to spare but it was a good, safe time to stop. One thing was crystal clear from this experience: I was excited by being restrained, and wanted to try it again. A lot. It was also clear that it was a sexual thing and that I would spend more thought into how I could incorporate this into my next play session.

And it was absolutely for certain that I would play again.