Tricked Into Bondage Stories

Tricked Into Bondage Stories

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We sat on the judo mats in a small studio in downtown San Francisco surrounded by 20 other strangers in yoga clothes. Over the last few months, my husband and I had been exploring different ways of connecting physically and this class in Shibari, an ancient Japanese form of rope bondage, seemed full of possibilities.
Sep 21, 2015, 02:51 PM EDT | Updated Dec 6, 2017
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We sat on the judo mats in a small studio in downtown San Francisco surrounded by 20 other strangers in yoga clothes. Over the last few months, my husband and I had been exploring different ways of connecting physically and this class in Shibari, an ancient Japanese form of rope bondage, seemed full of possibilities.
After we settled in, the couple leading the class began with a short demonstration of him tying her arms together behind her back. It turns out there are certain places one might not want rope burn, so he emphasized the importance of pulling the rope slowly. He also talked about holding it with intention as rope under tension has better energy. The couple was the absolute picture of harmony with her receiving his adoration with all of her being, and him doling out his love in measured and deliberate motions.
Then it was our turn. With some seductive music floating through the studio, I sat with my legs crossed as my husband began the process of learning how to tie a hitch knot. I'm not going to sugar-coat this kiddos... we were NOT the picture of harmony. I tried to provide helpful feedback, "pull the rope more slowly here" or "hold it less taut there", but the more direction I gave, the more frazzled he became.
It may be clear at this point in the story that trust in others is not one of my strengths. My default state is to plan, organize and direct in a very detailed way. I write down the exact brand and fat percentage of the ground turkey that I put on my grocery list. The concept of giving control to others or sitting back and receiving is not comfortable territory for me. Yet that was what I was being asked to do.
Fortunately for my frazzled husband, the instructors ended the exercise, telling us it was time for another demonstration. This was a free-form exploration where he worked rope after rope around her body, binding together various limbs with her torso. After she was fully bound, he reversed the process, with the same measured movements, slowly and beautifully unbinding her from her colorful cocoon.
Again, it was our turn to practice. This time, I tried to keep my mouth shut and trust that my partner could learn this new skill without my verbal feedback. Unexpectedly, it turned into a meditative experience for me. Since I was no longer talking, I was able to shut down the thinking part of my brain and tune into the music and the physical connection between myself, the rope and my husband.
Along the way, as I began to place trust in his actions, my husband seemed to be able to tune into my body and adjust accordingly. For instance, a small squirm from unpleasant tightness in the rope would result in loosening. A purr would result in a pleasant tightening. It felt counter-intuitive that by trusting him and providing less direct feedback that I was actually providing even better feedback, yet there we were.
In the months since our Shibari lesson, I've been able to notice when my control-freak self is getting in the way of some otherwise tantalizing scenes and can pause in that moment and ask myself "What if I were to let him continue on exactly the way he is right now?" And though I'm still demanding as ever in my grocery list, sometimes it now has things on it like 20 feet of red rope.
"Wait, that's it?" Transformation takes time, so I'm intentionally sharing in bite-sized doses that reflect my experience over the last year. I'd love to hear your questions and thoughts, let's continue the conversation in the comments section below. Or visit my blog at downtothere.com

Genre:

Erotica / Fantasy

Author:
Steve_Spandex

Rating:

★
5.0
1 review

Age Rating:
18+

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A collection of 'Damsel-in-Distress' short stories. 'A Few Short Tales of Trapped Females' is a compendium of 'Damsel-in-Distress' short stories focusing primarily on bondage/peril scenarios. Most are one part stories, complete within themselves, although a few are in two parts where noted as such. This is an on-going project which will be updated and added to with new stories from time to time.
Suzy pulled on the tight fitting cat-suit with a rising sense of anticipation. The shiny metallic black outfit glistened in the morning sunlight that streamed in through her bedroom window as she slowly eased the skin-tight fabric up legs already sheathed in black tights; smoothing out any wrinkles as she proceeded up over her thighs and hips to her waist, then onwards over her bare breasts and shoulders, slipping her arms into the waiting sleeves before finally reaching her throat. Dexterously reaching behind her back, she pulled the zipper upwards to her neck. She was now encased from ankle to neck in the figure hugging suit; the stirrups under her feet ensuring that the legs wouldn’t ride up. Turning to admire herself in the full length mirror, the image that stared back at her was of a slim young woman in a second skin of shining spandex that produced a faint swishing sound as she sashayed across the room. Suzy always deliberately purchased her cat-suits – of which she had many – a size too small. That way she ensured that there were no folds, creases or wrinkles; just one smooth layer that clung to her skin over every square millimetre of her beautiful young figure.
The clear blue sky presaged a day of warmth and sunshine; a perfect early spring day to be out in the open air. But Suzy had other plans for this Friday. Indeed, she’d taken the day off work for one reason and one reason only; so that she could tie herself up. For not only did Suzy love the feeling of ultra tight clothing, she also had a passion for being bound and gagged as securely as possible. And that was how she envisaged spending most of today; in a self induced state that was as near to inescapable as safety would allow. Being a solo endeavour, of course, she knew that she could never attain that longed for state of complete helplessness that she one day hoped to experience. Being too embarrassed to broach the subject with any of her friends, no one else in the world knew of her kidnap and bondage fantasies, so to date she had never had the pleasure of being inescapably bound by a third party. Self bondage, however, was the next best thing and as close as she could get to this ultimate goal for now.
Suzy tied her long brown hair back into a ponytail and began preparing for the day ahead. Firstly, she positioned the sturdy upright chair that was to be her binding point in the centre of the room, close to the foot of the bed. Next she opened the bag that contained all her bondage equipment: the ropes, straps, tape, gags, handcuffs etc, which she’d acquired over the past few years. Laying out what she needed on the floor, she sat down on the carpet, took the first length of rope and bound her ankles together as tightly as she could. Cinching the rope so that she would be unable to wriggle free, she knotted this first bond and tested its efficiency by pulling and wrenching with all her strength. Satisfied that no amount of struggling would in any way cause the rope to loosen, she took the next rope and performed an identical procedure just below her knees. Two more bonds - one just above her knees, the other around her thighs – completed the immobilisation of her legs. Holding onto the chair, she stood up and checked her appearance in the mirror; the clean, bright whiteness of the rope contracting starkly with her shiny black cat-suit and panty-hosed feet.
Placing the rest of the items needed to complete her captivity on the bed, Suzy sat herself down on the chair and picked up the next length of rope. Attaching one end of this to the already secured ankle bond, she bent her legs up under the seat of the chair as high as they would go, pulled the rope upwards behind her as tightly as she could, then wound it around the back of the chair several times, before bringing the ends back down to her ankles. This manoeuvre proved extremely difficult as, with her feet now incapable of reaching the floor, she had to lean precariously to one side and stretch underneath the seat to secure the knot at her ankles. The chair was, however, manufactured from strong metal, extremely heavy and almost impossible to knock over. Once complete, Suzy sat upright again and tried to lower her feet to the floor. She found, as she had hoped, that this was now impossible; her feet instead being suspended in thin air six inches or so above the carpet.
More bonds soon followed, each aimed at ensuring that she had no way of moving away from the chair. First, a length of rope that encompassed both the seat and her thighs, which prevented her from attempting to lift her upper legs up off the chair. Secondly, a length of rope that she wound several times tightly around both her waist and the back of the chair, cinched this between the small of her back and the lower struts, then brought the ends around to the front and secured them with a firm knot on her stomach. Next, a rope harness that she commenced behind her neck, pulled down under her armpits, brought around to the front and criss-crossed her breasts, then continued over her shoulders back to its starting point, before repeating the process a further four times. Each circuit, of course, also encompassed the vertical metal struts on the back of the chair, so that once she had sealed the final knot just beneath her breasts, she found that she could no longer lean forward more than a fraction of an inch; her entire torso being lashed securely to her makeshift mooring post.
Although Suzy was now well and truly trapped on the chair, she still had one or two more items to secure in place before she was satisfied with her handiwork. Firstly, she took a black leather collar and tied one end of a short length of rope to the attached D ring. Putting the collar on, she secured the buckle at her throat, with the rope dangling at the rear of her neck. Reaching around, she sightlessly grabbed the free end of the rope, swiftly wound this around the top horizontal bar of the chair-back, pulled it taut so that her neck was forced backwards, then secured a knot which prevented her moving her head forwards again.
Suzy’s bondage was now almost complete. First, however, she slipped long black spandex gloves over each hand and pulled them up as high as they would stretch, which was just above her elbows. Next she took two pairs of tights, which she had previously rolled up into one tight ball, and pushed this into her mouth. The ball was too large, once wedged behind her teeth, to allow her to completely close her jaw. Nor would it be particularly easy to spit out. Not easy, but not impossible however. And for this reason Suzy knew that if this gag was going to effectively silence her, then she had to take action to prevent this being a viable option. To this end, she picked up a roll of grey duct tape off the bed, placed one end over her mouth and proceeded to wrap the instantly bonding tape around her face and lower head. Several circumnavigations later, each of which had been strategically placed either slightly higher or lower than the one before, her face, from chin to just below her nose, was smothered in a mass of tape, with the rolled up tights now sealed beneath.
Almost finished now, Suzy picked up her prized possession, a set of metal handcuffs that still had the key protruding from the lock on one of the bracelets. Testing the key in both locks to ensure that the release mechanisms still functioned correctly, she removed the key and placed it on her lap. Reaching around behind her, she looped one bracelet through the rope at her waist just behind the struts on the chair-back.
At this point she had originally intended to use the two remaining items on the bed – a leather sleep mask and a spandex hood that matched both her cat-suit and the gloves. However, from where she had positioned the chair, she realised that she could view herself in the full length mirror, and the thought of being able to watch herself struggling and writhing for the duration of her bondage game now appealed to her more than the option of being sightless. For once, she decided, she would forego the blindfold and hood, at least for the time being anyway. Later, if she got the urge, she could always unlock the handcuffs momentarily and add these to her vast array of bonds, then cuff herself again. With this decision made Suzy placed both arms behind the chair. Encircling her left wrist in the waiting manacle was easy enough, as she could use her right hand to help the process along. The sound of the ratchets slowly clicking, together with a tightening of the metal bracelet, soon informed her that this part of the exercise had been successfully accomplished and that her hand could not now be removed.
Picking up the key from her lap, Suzy transferred this to her already shackled hand then tried to wriggle her right wrist into the still vacant cuff. This was a far more difficult feat, however, and it took at least two minutes before she finally had her wrist in the correct position. Pushing the cuff closed was also far from straight forward, as she didn’t dare use her left hand, for fear of dropping the key. However, pushing her wrist against the back of the chair, she managed to get the two arms of the cuff to converge, and the first click of the ratchet informed her that she was nearly there. Now, slowly and with great care, she transferred the key from her left to her right hand then used the left to complete her bondage. Click...click...click...she felt the bracelet tighten to the extent that she now knew that her hand could not be prized out of the encircling steel.
For an hour or two – it was easy to quickly lose track of time during these wonderful bondage sessions – Suzy luxuriated in her helplessness. She had, since she was young, always fantasized about being kidnapped and held for long periods of time in extreme and inescapable bondage, and the fact that she could view her mirror image wriggling and squirming in a mock battle to escape, proved an exhilarating experience. With her feet pulled up beneath her, her thighs and torso lashed securely to the chair, and the tethered collar restricting the movement of her head, Suzy could hardly move at all. Added to this was the fact that the handcuffs had been looped within the strict rope around her waist, which meant that she couldn’t move her hands away from the back of the chair. The only parts of her with any freedom at all, in fact, were her elbows and upper arms. It wasn’t that she had neglected or forgotten to attempt immobilisation of this part of her anatomy; far from it, in fact. In the past, she had experimented with elbow ties on many occasions. But she had discovered that it was almost impossible to create tight, authentic self bondage in this area and so she had given up. Better not to bother, she had decided, than to have her whole bondage session ruined by some loose, ineffective rope-work that fell away at the slightest movement of her arms. Someday, she hoped, she would be able to experience the sensation of having her upper arms pulled back behind her and securely trussed together. At the moment, however, she had no idea when that time might arrive.
Time moved on, with Suzy having no desire to end her bondage session. She was enjoying the delights that the sensation of inescapable ropes produced so much that she could, she thought, quite happily remain this way for the rest of the day. This carefree attitude to her situation was clouded only be one small nagging worry. What if she dropped the key? Although if this occurred it would only fall a couple of feet to the bedroom floor, it would be impossible, in her present state, to reach down and retrieve it. For this reason, she kept the hand that held the key clenched in a tight fist at all times; only occasionally transferring it from one hand to another, in order to stretch and exercise her fingers.
It must have been getting on for midday, when Suzy was suddenly awakened from her bondage fantasies by the sound of someone knocking on the door of her flat. Who could that be? She certainly wasn’t expecting anyone. At this point she was not concerned however. Give whoever it was a minute or two and they’d go away assuming that she was not at home. At least that was how she guessed things would turn out. So it was with great surprise, not to mention dismay, when she heard the familiar sound of the door opening. Damn it! She cursed herself for not locking the door.
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