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Review This Story || Author: Shackleford Bond

A Colorado Country Girl\'s Self Bondage

Part 1


        A Colorado Country Girl’s Self Bondage


 By Mary Elizabeth Moore Writing As Shackleford Bond


CH 1

My mom is the greatest person in the world. We were always close, but after my dad died we became even closer. We would talk for hours about anything and everything. When I got a little older we had long talks about sex and sexuality. Mom was very direct about such matters and didn’t hold back when it came to the birds and the bees.

We lived on a farm but after my father died, Mom couldn’t manage it alone so she leased the land to other farmers and sold water rights to the ditches on our land. She also worked at a bank in town. We weren’t rich but we got by.

Our house is a neat old place with big porches, tall trees and a wide shady lawn. There is a big barn behind the house that Mom uses as a garage, otherwise its empty.

When I was sixteen my boyfriend Bobby and I were poking around in the barn one lazy afternoon. He found some rope and jokingly suggested that I let him tie me up. I agreed and let him tie me to a post.

He tied my hands behind the post and it took me about three minutes to get loose. I laughed at how easy it was to free myself, so he tied me again, tighter. It took longer but again I wriggled loose. Now it became a test of wills.

Bobby tied my wrists together behind the post, then my elbows, very tightly. It hurt when the ropes pinched my skin but oddly I liked the pain. For the first time in my life I felt that sweet tingle in my pussy and my nipples popped erect under my tee shirt. Bobby didn’t seem to notice as he wrapped ropes around my chest and the post, then he knelt and tied my ankles. I was very aware of his head so close to my pussy.

 This time he did it right. There was no getting loose. The only thing I could move was my head. I made the mistake of taunting him about that, so he wrapped another rope around my forehead and the post. I was completely immobilized, and I liked it.

Bobby started to untie me but I told him to wait. I wanted to see if I could escape. I wriggled and tugged at my ropes and the more I struggled the more turned on I became.  My face was pink and I was breathing hard. Bobby thought it was from exertion and told me that I could try all I wanted but I would never get free. He had no clue that getting free was the last thing I wanted. I told him to go away for a while and I would get loose. He went to the house and got a pop from the fridge. I was alone in the barn.

I stood against that post for about thirty minutes, loving every second. Bobby came back and asked teased me about not getting loose. I pretended to pout and grudgingly admitted defeat. He untied me and we left the barn.

After he went home I ran back into the barn and took my clothes off. My pussy was tingling as I stood against my post with my hands clasped behind it pretending that I was tied. I tied a rope into a loop and slipped it over my hands. I twisted it until it tightened against my wrists. Just the pressure was almost enough to make me cum. I wished that Bobby would come  back to the barn and find me. At that age I wasn’t sure what I would have wanted him to do. My early fantasy didn’t get much past the stage of wanting him to see me naked and helpless.

A few days later I talked Bobby into tying me again. I pretended to make a game of it and bet him that I would get free no matter how tightly he tied me. This time he placed me in a hog tie. We put and old blanket on the barn floor and I lay on my stomach. Bobby tied my ankles and knees together, then my wrists. He bent my knees and brought my ankles up and tied my wrists to them. I was a slender and flexible girl and slipped the rope off my wrists within minutes. We agreed on another try and this time he tied the ropes so tightly that I lost feeling in my hands. Much better! I pretended to struggle and discovered that rubbing my breasts against the floor was delightful. I huffed and puffed and squirmed until my nipples were deliciously sore. Finally I admitted to Bobby that I couldn’t get free. As soon as he left I masturbated for the first time.

          Bobby and I made up rules for our game. I would have thirty minutes to free myself and win a point, if I couldn’t get free Bobby got a point. At the end of each week the one with fewest points had to pay for burgers or pizza.

I didn’t hide our game from Mom. In fact, I told her about it soon after we began. She wasn’t concerned in the least.

Bobby spent a lot of time at our house. He mowed the lawn and plowed the drive when it snowed. He often ate dinner with us and we worked on our homework together. Once homework was done, he would often watch television with Mom and me.

One evening I was teasing him. He wanted to watch the show on tv and I was pestering him something awful. He finally grabbed me and wrestled me to the floor. He tied my wrists behind me with his belt, then sat on the couch to watch the show. Well, it didn’t take me long at all to get loose. Mom was watching and laughed.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” she told Bobby. He ran out to the barn and brought back an armful of rope.

I allowed him to tie me in a hog tie on the living room floor. Mom watched in amusement. I managed to get one hand free but not the other or my ankles. Bobby wouldn’t untie me and neither would Mom.

“You got yourself in that predicament,” she said, so I scrunched around until I was facing the television, propped my chin on my free hand and nonchalantly finished watching the show.

A few nights later I challenged Bobby to tie me again. Mom watched while he tied me to a chair. It was a simple tie, with my wrists tied behind the chair back, and my ankles and knees together. I slipped the ropes on my wrists within twenty minutes. Mom declared me the winner.

Bobby retied me to the chair. This time he tied my wrist rope to the lower rung of the chair. He did the same with my ankle rope. He also wrapped  rope over my chest and around the chair back. While he was doing this his knuckles brushed my breast. Bobby was so intent on what he was doing that I don’t think he realized it, but it was like an electric shock to me. When Bobby’s hand touched my breast, just that tiny amount, I had my first orgasm. I gasped and jerked. Bobby thought he had tied me too tight and had hurt me. I managed to regain my composure and assured him I was all right. But my heart was pounding and my pussy was throbbing. It took a great deal of will power to pretend that everything was normal. Mom looked at my pink face and her eyebrow rose slightly. I think she knew.

          The next afternoon I was home alone. I got the ropes and tried to tie myself up. The first attempts were unsuccessful. I wanted to be tied, but I also had to be able to get loose. I finally put a knife on the floor beside me and placed myself in a pretty good hog tie. I tied my ankles and knees and made a simple slip noose for my wrists. As soon as I tightened it I felt my pussy tingle. I lay on the floor of my room imagining that Bobby was caressing my breasts. By rocking I could press them against the floor. I liked that. I was getting close to another orgasm when I heard my mother come home. I got my hand on the knife and was able to cut myself loose before she came in to my room. I hid the ropes and was innocently brushing my hair when she looked in on me.

I spent the next few days in a state of confusion and guilt. I wasn’t sure if my feelings were “proper” for a good girl. Mom and I had talked about sex and I knew about the birds and the bees, but nothing like this had ever come up. I felt dirty for getting  excited about bondage and I felt guilty for not confiding in Mom. I wanted to talk to her about it, but couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Bobby and I continued our game and I got in the habit of taking my panties off before he arrived. I didn’t need a bra at that age and didn’t wear one around the house. Every time Bobby tied me up I was naked under my shorts and tee shirt.

One evening I was hog tied in front of the television. Bobby had crossed my ankles before bending my legs. This forced my knees apart. The position felt very sexy and I was making only perfunctory efforts to get loose. Bobby was bragging that I wouldn’t win any points that night. Mom agreed with him and made the comment that I had given up too easily.

“If you think its so easy,” I said. “why don’t you try it?” To my surprise she agreed.

“Ok Bobby, tie me up,” she said

Bobby asked her to sit in a chair. He tied her ankles together and wrapped a rope above her knees. He tied her wrists together in front. It didn’t take her long to get loose.

“That was the easiest way to be tied up there is,” I scoffed. “Tie her up for real.”

“Ok Bobby, do your best,” mom said

Bobby tied her wrists behind the chair. I watched carefully as her tied her wrist, then her elbows together. Then he tied her wrists to the chair rung. I watched Mom’s face and when Bobby tugged that rope tight I saw that split second flash of excitement in her eyes. She glanced at me then looked away. I suggested that Bobby tie her ankles to the front legs of the chair.

Mom was wearing cut off jeans and an old sweatshirt. She opened her legs and pressed her knees against the arms of the chair while Bobby tied them. She glanced at me over his head as he knelt to tie her ankles to the chair legs. Her face was expressionless.

Poor Bobby was oblivious to what was going on between Mom and me.

Mom tried hard to free herself. She tugged at the ropes and really exerted herself. As she struggled her breasts bounced around under her shirt. Bobby was watching her and he got an erection. I noticed the bulge growing in his jeans, Mom saw it too. She glanced just for a second, then pretended not to see. Bobby got embarrassed and went into the kitchen and pretended to get a drink of water. Mom struggled even harder and her boobs shook from side to side. I couldn’t take my eyes off them.

Finally she stopped. She was panting and her face was flushed. Her hair was in her eyes. She sat for a moment until her breathing was normal, then called out for Bobby to come untie her. When he released her she smiled sweetly at him and went up to her room.

Bobby and I continued our game. We thought up all sorts of ways to tie me. I got used to being tied for long periods of time, and in private I tied myself. I was masturbating all the time. Bobby and I didn’t have sex together. Oh we smooched and petted, but nothing too heavy. And Bobby was typical teen aged boy. He could be very grabby at times, and I had to push him away more than once, but oddly, he never tried anything improper when I was tied up, and that was when I wanted him to touch me, but I was still a good girl and couldn’t bring myself to ask him.

Mom and Bobby’s mother are friends. Years later Mother told me that she told Bobby’s mother about our game. They talked it over and decided it was harmless. After all, we were just kids playing a childish game. She even let us tie her up again.

One evening we were watching an old cowboy movie. There was a scene where the pretty school marm was kidnapped by the bad guys and tied to a stake. Watching the movie made my pussy tingle. Mother remarked that she had never seen me tied the way that girl was.

“That was the way Bobby tied me the first time,” I told her.

“Yeah, I tied her to a post in the barn,” Bobby added.

“It looks interesting,” Mom said. “And difficult to escape from.”

“You should try it,” I suggested.

 “All right,” she said nonchalantly. “Bobby why don’t you get the ropes.”

While he was out there she went up to her room. I tiptoed up stairs and peeked in. I was thunderstruck to see mom slide her shorts off and strip out of her panties. Then reach under her shirt and undo her bra. She slipped it out through a sleeve then rummaged through a drawer and found a pair of spandex shorts. She pulled them on. They were very tight and showed every outline of her pussy. She looked at herself in the mirror, rubbed her pussy briefly and took a deep breath. I scampered down stairs.

She came down acting very casual as Bobby walked in carrying the ropes. He didn’t seem to notice that she had changed shorts.

Two ornamental pillars flank the doorway into our dining room. Mom placed her back against one of them, reached behind it and crossed her wrists. As Bobby tied her wrists she reminded him to make the knots tight. She joked that she didn’t want to be able to get free too easily. Bobby tied her very tightly, then knelt to tie her ankles. He wrapped a rope around her waist, her upper legs and her forehead. Mom was staring off into space by the time he finished.

Bobby stepped back and a looked at Mom with puzzlement.

“Aren’t you going to try to get loose?” he asked.

“I was just waiting until you were done,” Mom said brightly.

“Yeah, you can start,” Bobby said.

She began tugging at the ropes. She didn’t look at Bobby or me but Mom really got her breasts moving under her shirt as she twisted and tugged. Bobby retreated to a chair and crossed his legs, obviously hiding another erection. 

We watched Mom struggle for several minutes. Bobby was staring at her breasts. So was I.

I couldn’t stand it and told him that I wanted to play too. Bobby went to the barn for more rope.

Mom stopped struggling for a moment. She was panting and her face was pink.

“I don’t think you’re going to get loose,” I told her.

“Oh yes I will,” she said brightly, still pretending it was a game.

“I don’t know Mom,” I said. “Bobby is getting pretty good with the ropes.”

“We’ll see.” She began struggling again.

Bobby came back and tied me to the other pillar. He tied me nice and tight and I was tingling all over when he finished, but the sweet tingle wasn’t for me. It was for Mom. I stood there marveling that she was turned on just like me. She was excited about bondage!

If my mother, my wonderful, sweet angel of a mother was turned on, did that mean that she was dirty inside too? Or maybe it wasn’t dirty, maybe it was ok to have the thought s I had. Maybe I wasn’t such a bad girl after all.

I thought about this all the next day. When I got home I went to my room and undressed down to my panties. I tied myself spread wide on my bed, arms and legs tied to the corners. Then I called out for her to come up to my room. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw me, but she didn’t seemed too surprised. She didn’t say anything, she just waited for me to speak.

“I’ve been doing this for a long time,” I told her.

“I know, Mary.”

“Do you think I’m awful?” I asked.


“I’ve been having these wicked feelings about being tied up,” I said. “I can’t help it and I want to be tied up all the time.”

“Lots of women have the same feelings,” she said. “They aren’t that unusual.”

“Do you get them?” I asked.

She paused before answering. “Yes. I’ve had them since I was a little girl.”

“Did anybody ever tie you up?” I asked. “For real, I mean. Not like Bobby does.”

“Yes. Your father used to tie me up,” she said quietly. “I liked it, and I miss it.”

She kissed my forehead and went down to cook dinner. I lay on my bed imagining Mom tied to a bed having Dad doing sexy things to her. I was so excited that I couldn’t stand it. I untied myself and took off my panties. Then, with my door wide open I played with my pussy until I came. And all the time I hoped Mom would walk in and see me.  

                                                                                                                                                                                      CH 2


Bobby and I continued to play our game. But things were different now. He had no clue about what was going on inside me. I felt older than him.

Once he came to the house and discovered me when I had tied myself. Luckily I was fully clothed. I told him that I had tied myself so I could practice getting loose and beat him at the game. He accepted this without question.

          As my teen years passed I grew. I filled out. My breasts grew and I lost my lankiness. In high school Bobby and I drifted apart. There were lots of cute boys in school and I dated a few, but none of them seemed to be special. Sometimes, if I liked the boy we might pet and sometimes it got hot and heavy, but I remained a virgin. In most ways I was a normal high school girl. But I never mentioned bondage to anyone, not even my best friend.

I continued to experiment with tying myself. I became very creative, both in style and location. And very adept at tying and untying myself. Our barn had a hundred places to be tied. I tied myself to pillars and spread between posts, hogtied on the floor, in empty stalls, in the loft, even outside to trees. I also began to develop exhibitionistic tendencies. My fantasies grew to include having people see me tied up. I came up with a daring and dangerous stunt.

I went to the loft and opened the upper doors. Just inside the shadow I placed an old chair. I stripped naked and tied myself in the chair with my knees wide apart. I sat facing the county road for hours. Any passing car might have seen me if they had looked closely.

Later I improved on this. I installed hooks in the walls on each side of the door about three feet off the floor. I threaded ropes through the hooks and over a beam above my head. I tied them together in a noose with a slip knot then tied myself in the chair with a waist rope, then tied my ankles to the wall ropes. I placed my wrists in the noose above my head and tugged it tight. The harder I pulled on the noose, the wider my legs were opened. I’ve spent hours in that tie, and have had lots of orgasms. Its still a favorite.

          Sometimes when I am tied up I go into a dream state, almost a trance, and I have the most realistic fantasies. This time I imagined that passing cars could see me, and dozens of them turned onto our driveway. I could almost hear the sound of tires on the gravel, and car doors slamming, and men’s feet on the loft stairs. And I imagined man after man fucking me.

          Mom was very understanding about my curious hobby. She sometimes rolled her eyes at some of my shenanigans, but she never criticized me. Not even when I got in the habit of walking around the house with my wrists tied and a hobble on my ankles. She came home one time to find me studying in a self-induced hogtie.

I was lying on my stomach on my bed. I had propped my textbook against my pillow and was turning the pages with a pencil held between my teeth. I was in bra and panties and had tied my wrists to my ankles.

“Is Bobby here?” she asked.

“No, why?”

“Well who tied you up?” she wanted to know.

“Oh,” I said. “I did. See?”

I untied my ropes, then retied myself in the hog tie.

Mom burst out laughing and went down stairs. I finished doing my homework.

That little episode helped me move to another level of bondage. I didn’t like holding a pencil between my teeth. It was awkward. So I wrapped a bunch of tape around the end of a pencil and made a ball about two inches across. That was easier to hold in my mouth. And it was a perfect ball gag.

I like the heightened sensation of helplessness the gag gave me. So I experimented with different kinds. I discovered that a simple rubber ball inside nylon stocking worked great. I just tied the stocking behind my neck and the gag was perfect. (I was still a small town farm girl then, I had no idea that an entire bondage culture existed outside my cocoon. I actually thought I had invented the ball gag. It wasn’t until years later that I found out differently).

The drug store in town had a section in the magazine rack dedicated to “Men’s Magazines” and detective stories. The covers always showed scantily clad women in perilous situations, often tied up. There were paper back novels too, with the same kind of covers. It was very low key pornography by modern standards, but in the sixties they were pretty risqué. I was fascinated by the magazines but didn’t dare buy them. Good girls just didn’t do that. So I stole them.

I shoplifted the magazines and books, but managed to pay for them. When no one was looking I’d drop money on the counter near the cash register. Then I’d rush home and read the stories and look at the pictures. I got very excited looking at the drawings of bound women, imagining that I was in their situation. Usually the stories were about beautiful girls being interrogated by German soldiers, or tortured by Japanese. Often the were captured by wicked looking Arabs slave traders. One picture in particular turned me on. It was of two naked women tied to posts on a tropical beach while dozens of natives danced around them. I imagined that Mom and I were the women. I even cut our faces out of photographs and pasted them onto the women in the picture. I still have that picture after all these years.

I love watching any kind of movie that has bound women in it. I get new ideas that way. Anything that shows women tied up is cool. I even like scenes in dopey old horror movies where women were tortured in dungeons or witches were burned at the stake. Now I’ve never been interested in being burned, but at about seventeen I began to fantasize about being tortured. Needless to say, I never told Mom that.

I found a picture in a book of a woman stretched on a medieval rack. An evil looking man was leering over her reaching toward her breasts with a hot iron. I wanted that to happen to me, so I made myself a rack.

I found a wide plank in the barn. It was over ten feet long. I screwed an eyebolt to each end and placed it across a set of sawhorses. I found a big piece of metal from an old dismantled tractor. It weighed about fifty pounds. I tied a rope to it and made a slip noose at the other end. I didn’t put the rope through the eyebolt, not for the trial run. I put the weight right on the end of the plank and laid a broomstick near it. I climbed on the plank and tied my ankles to one end. I lay on my back, slipped my wrists in the noose, and then pushed the weight off the plank with the stick. The board jerked, my arms were snapped straight and my body slid up the board until stopped by my ankle ropes and I had an incredible orgasm!

I lay on the plank in pure ecstasy. The weight dangled a few inches off the floor. It pulled fiercely on my arms tight and made my shoulders ache, but I loved it. I found that I could pull the weight up a little, then let it drop. Each time I came. After five or six orgasms I was exhausted. I just lay back and reveled in feeling helpless. After about an hour I released myself by rolling onto my side and pulling the weight rope off the end of the plank. I tugged the weight toward me until there was enough slack in the rope to untie myself. If I had threaded the rope through the eyebolt, it would have been impossible to get loose. I did this many times over several days.

I wasn’t sure if Mom would be as understanding about self torture as she was about mere self bondage. I didn’t want her to find my new device so I took it up to the loft. Peering over the railing I was struck with a new idea.

          The next time I tried self-torture, I set the plank so that the end with the weight extended over the edge of the loft. I tied a longer rope to the weight and this time I put the rope through the eyebolt. I tied my ankles to the bottom of the plank, put my wrists through the loop and pushed the weight off. I was in for more than I had expected.

The weight fell fifteen feet. It jerked my body as tight as a bowstring. My wrists went numb instantly and I felt like my shoulders were being dislocated. Something also happened that I hadn’t anticipated; the bottom end of my plank rose into the air. The whole thing, including me, slid forward and teetered over edge of the loft. I was terrified that I was going to fall. I screamed with fear and an orgasm hit me in mid scream!

I hung for a second, then the plank crashed back down onto the sawhorse. The weight must have rebounded, because my ropes went slack for an instant, then the weight jerked my arms tight again. I screamed again and I had another orgasm.

I screamed and screamed. I screamed in pain and delight and in wild sexual abandon. The plank came to rest and the weight finally stopped swinging, and I was absolutely helpless. My hands were numb and I could never have freed myself. I lay there in pure ecstasy. Eventually I dozed off into one of my trances. I dreamt of being tortured on a real rack, branded by hot irons, tormented with pincers, beaten with whips while they turned the wheel that stretched me tighter and tighter, then being fucked by my torturers.

I didn’t hear her car when Mom came home, I was still dreaming of torture. When she couldn’t find me in the house she began searching eventually she discovered me in the loft.

She was horrified when she found me semi conscious. She cut me loose and helped me off the plank. She wanted to drive me to the hospital. I roused out of my dream like condition to assure her that I was not only all right, but I was incredibly all right.

Mom demanded to know what I thought I was doing. I had to confess to her that I had moved to another plateau in my kinkiness. She listened, agreed that it was very sexy, then made me promise never to do it again. I promised, reluctantly but couldn’t get the memory of that wonderful experience out of my mind.

I made some modifications to my rack. I bolted the blade from an old sickle on the wall beneath the loft so that as the rope swung it rubbed across the blade. The rope would cut through in a few minutes, the weight would drop away and I could free myself. As another precaution I connected a rope from a hook on the far wall to the foot of the plank. The plank still bounced me around, which was part of the excitement, but at least I wouldn’t fall out of the loft.

I tested my improvements and they worked, the only problem was that the rope cut through too quickly. I wanted to be tied longer. Oh well.

I demonstrated my new safety feature for Mom and she grudgingly gave me permission to use it. I was a little surprised at how easily she gave in. (I later found out why.) I slowed the cutting time by using thicker ropes, then I doubled them and even tying knots where they touched the blade. And I made sure that the blade wasn’t very sharp. Once when Mom was away for several days I knotted the rope so thickly that it took literally all day to cut through.

I used (and still use) weights to hoist myself off my feet. There was a ton of junk metal in the barn. It was simple to put a rope over a beam and tie one end to a mass of metal that weighs more than me. I put the weights on a board a few feet off the ground. One end of the board rests on a sawhorse; a stick props the other end. I tie a rope to the stick and hold the other end. I slip my hands through the noose, pull away the prop and up I go. I absolutely adore hanging by my wrists this way. I can’t untie my wrists when I’m hanging. I always loose feeling in my hands so I rigged a release mechanism.

 I learned in history class how the Egyptians used the weight of sand to lift objects. I filled an old sack with sand and let the sand pour through a small opening into a bucket. As the bucket gets heavier it drops lower and lower and pulls a string with a knife across my rope. The trick is to keep the knife edge firmly against the rope and this is one time to make sure the blade is sharp.

Depending on my mood, I sometimes tie my ankles together, or apart with a spreader stick, and sometimes I don’t tie them at all. Occasionally its fun to kick and thrash around pretending I’m being whipped.

One of my favorite fantasies was (still is) to hang naked from the crane outside the loft door, twenty feet off the ground. I never dared to try this in daytime but one evening I did it after dark. I tied my wrists to the end of the beam and stepped off the floor. By jerking my body I managed to get the swing arm moving away from the wall. When I had enough room I could swing like a trapeze artist and really get the crane moving. Unfortunately I swung it so far that the locking pin dropped in place. I heard that soft click and knew that I was not going to be able to swing back to the loft door. A terrific orgasm flashed through me when I heard that pin drop. I was naked, outside and completely helpless. I enjoyed myself for a couple of hours, but finally had to call for Mom to come release me. Surprisingly, she wasn’t angry. She just swung the crane in and watched while I untied myself. Then she went back inside.

I’ve hung from that crane on many a warm evening. I have even tied my ankles to it and hung upside down. Once, on a hot night I couldn’t sleep. I got out of bed and roamed around the yard naked. Out of boredom I tied myself under the crane and swung it out. I reveled in my bondage, watched the lights of passing cars, then I fell asleep!

Mom found me the next morning just as the sun was coming up. Sunlight in my eyes woke me and I looked down to see her looking up at me as she sipped a cup of coffee. I smiled sheepishly and swung my body until the crane was inside the barn. My shoulders hurt for days, but I didn’t care. Mom didn’t say a word.

Hot summer nights can be unbearable. One night it was too hot to sleep. I’d kicked off my covers and undressed. I lay naked on my bed and masturbated but it didn’t help. Finally I got out of bed and walked naked to the barn. I thought about tying myself under the crane again but that didn’t appeal to me, so I walked down to the main road. Our farm has an old gate supported by two large posts. We haven’t closed the gate in years, in fact its so rusty that it would probably fall apart if we tried. I tied myself spread between the posts.

This was my most daring bondage adventure yet. That county road is well traveled and even after dark there are cars going by all night long. My first thought was that when I saw a car coming I’d see if I could untie myself in time to hide before it drove past.

No cars came by. Time passed and I grew hornier and after a while I decided that I wouldn’t try to hide. I’d just stand there and let myself be found.

I stood between the posts for hours and no one came by. I drifted into my dream state and imagined who would be in the first car to find me. Would it be a lone man? A car load of teen aged boys out prowling back roads? A lineman checking for a power outage? What would they do to me? Would I get fucked then and there in my ropes? Or perhaps taken away to some hideaway and kept as a sex slave. Finally car lights appeared in the distance.

My heart pounded. Should I untie myself and run back to the house? I decided to see it through. I didn’t move. The car got nearer, then stopped!

It stopped a hundred yards away. I was right in its lights. I wondered what the driver thought as he looked at me. When was he going to drive up and get out? The car sat for several minutes, then from the car I heard a woman’s voice faintly over a radio. It was sheriff’s car! I heard the voice again, then the car slowly turned around and drove away. Hadn’t he seen me? Didn’t that deputy sheriff want to fuck a naked girl bound in the night?

I could have screamed!

I untied one hand and played with my pussy until I came, then released myself and went to bed.

A few days later I was getting gas at the truck stop. A sheriff’s car pulled in and the officer got out. It was Rob Bleskow. His sister was a year ahead of me in school. He was about twenty five, tall and very nice looking. I strolled over and said hello. At first he didn’t know me, until I told him my name and where I lived. He nodded and told me that he patrolled our part of the county. His attitude was mildly condescending, after all, he was a big strong cop and I was just another high school girl.

I asked if he’d been on duty the other night. He said he had and asked why. I told him that I’d been sitting on the porch when I saw a patrol car stop, then turn around near our place. He told me that he was just cruising by when he’d gotten a call and had to turn around.

“I walked down to the gate and waved,” I lied. “Didn’t you see me?”

Waved! I was stark naked in the gateway!

“No, I sure didn’t,” he said. “What were you doing up that time of night?”

“It was too hot to sleep,” I said.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he agreed.

“You sat there for a while,” I said. “I wondered if you’d seen something unusual.”

“No, I was just checking my map for the best way to get to that call.”

“You’ll never know what you missed that night,” I thought to myself.


One day when I was seventeen I had an opportunity to indulge my growing exhibitionistic side. The farmer next door was plowing a field beside our house. I was gazing out my window when it occurred to me that his tractor was getting closer to our house with each pass.

We have an old teahouse on that side of the lawn, a little gazebo with lattice walls. I undressed and walked to the gazebo. I tossed a rope over the roof beams, tied a spreader bar between my ankles and tied my wrists above my head. The lattice partially screened me from sight, but just barely.

I stood motionless as the tractor got nearer. I was sure that if the man were to look closely he would see me. 

The farmer glanced toward me a few times, I think he even slowed. While he was out of sight at the end of the field, I untied myself and ran to the house. I peeked out a window as he passed by. He looked very carefully at the gazebo. I waited until he was out of sight again, ran to the teahouse and stood quite still as he passed. Then I hobbled my ankles and tied my wrists in front and shuffled to a row of bushes on the fence line. I crawled under a bush, shoved my hands between my legs and masturbated as the tractor approached. It passed within ten feet of me. As the sound of its engine grew to a roar I frantically rubbed my clit. When it was right beside me, it stopped!

He climbed down and parted the bushes to look at the gazebo. He was directly over me. He was so close that I could smell his perspiration. He peered at the gazebo for several minutes. It was so quiet that I could hear the hot metal popping on the tractor’s engine. I could fell the heat from its exhaust. I lay perfectly still, except for my fingers.

An insane thought struck me. What would I say if he discovered me? “Ok, you found me, now you get to fuck me.”

I wondered what he would say, or do.

I bit my lip to keep quiet when the orgasm came. I kept my eyes on him as the delicious shudders coursed through me.

After a moment, he started the tractor and moved away. I crawled out of the bushes and untied my ankles, then I slipped my arms over my legs so I was bound behind my back. I stood in the open sunlight as he plowed the final row. If he had looked back he would have seen me.

                                                           CH 3


My senior year Mom asked one of our neighbors to put plant several acres in pumpkins. In October she set up a roadside stand selling them as part of a fund raiser for the county library. I helped her run the stand, but asked her help in indulging in another fantasy.

I made myself a scarecrow costume. I bought a plastic pumpkin large enough to fit over my head. I cut jack o lantern eyes and mouth and lined the holes with black gauze. I found some ugly striped stockings, horrible old high top granny shoes, an oversized man’s shirt, a denim skirt with dozens of patches a bright red wig and a ragged straw hat. Oversized and badly worn work gloves concealed my hands. The gauze in the pumpkin allowed me to see out but prevented anyone from seeing my eyes.

I erected a cross behind the pumpkin stand. It was tall and had a footrest. I got into my costume but decided that I looked too human, so I padded the stockings with lumpy bits of cotton and straw and filled the shirt the same way. I didn’t wear a bra or panties and held the stockings up with a sexy garter belt.

 With the plastic pumpkin over my head, the straw hat taped atop it and pieces of straw sticking out of my clothing I looked like a cross between the scarecrow in The Wizard Of Oz and Raggedy Ann.

Mom tied me to the cross. She really tightened the ropes on my wrists and ankles when I asked her to. Then she sat down to wait for folks to buy pumpkins. I didn’t tell her that I wasn’t wearing panties and I don’t think she noticed that my skirt was fairly short.

I stood on my cross for several hours as people came and went. To look at me I appeared to be just a straw stuffed scarecrow. I was a warm, sunny but breezy autumn day. The wind fluttered my clothing and made the straw inside my shirt brush across my breasts. I was very excited and had to hold very still as people walked around me. I got even more excited when the wind picked up just as a man was looking in my direction. My skirt flapped in the breeze and his eyes widened in surprise. I’m sure he must have gotten a glimpse of my pussy. He walked toward me with a look of “did I really see what I thought I saw?” on his face. He stood there looking up at me.

My heart was pounding and I tried to stand perfectly still. I hoped he wouldn’t lift my skirt, and I hoped he would. I wondered if he would tell everyone that there was a live naked and tingling pussy under the scarecrow’s skirt.

He looked at me intently, but was distracted when his little boy ran up. He paid for some pumpkins and loaded his family into their car. He kept looking at me the whole time. I watched him as they drove out of sight.

I was very excited. Even tough I wasn’t naked, I was bound in front of other people.

I played scarecrow several times that year, and wore the costume to a Halloween party, still with no panties.


          I grew addicted to tying myself and became quite the risk taker.

I would go to the movies wearing nothing but an overcoat. I would sit in the darkened theater and quietly and slowly tie my ankles together, then my wrists. Sometimes I would undo the buttons on my coat and risk letting it fall open. At times I would tie my knees apart to the arm rests. I even would go into the rest room and stuff the sleeves of my coat into the pockets. Then I would tie my wrists behind my back under the coat. I would walk through the theater looking as if I had my hands in my pockets, find a seat and sit through the movie with my hands tied. I also added pussy ropes to this game and made myself come by tugging on the pussy rope while sitting with my legs wide apart. One time I bumped into some friends and stood chatting with them in the lobby while I gently tightened the rope in my pussy. When they left I almost ran to a seat and had a terrific orgasm as soon as I sat down.

          After high school I went to college in Denver. Denver was quite a change from my small farm town on the plains. The first year was pure hell for me because all freshmen had to live in a dorm. I shared a room with two other girls. We got along just fine, and they are dear friends even now thirty years later. But I had absolutely no privacy to indulge my self-bondage. Each time I went home on a break I would spend nearly the entire visit tying myself up.

I was so frustrated the first time I went home from college that I went to the barn stark naked, set up my rack and indulged in several hours of self-torture. I even added a new twist by placing a pussy rope through my crotch and tying it to a weight. I connected the weights so that just after the first, heavier weight pulled on my wrists it would also yank the second smaller weight that was connected to my pussy. When the first weight slammed me tight on my board it made me come like crazy, but a second later the other weight jerked my pussy rope tight and the orgasm’s intensity went up about a hundred points.

Something I hadn’t counted on was that connecting the second weight changed the way the ropes hung. My safety device, the sickle blade, didn’t cut the rope. I lay on my board feeling an incredible erotic delight for a long time until I realized that I couldn’t free myself. I loved the idea but knew that I’d have to get free eventually. I found that by tugging on the rope just a bit I got it to swing until finally it was cut. I had a bunch of orgasms that afternoon.

          The next day I modified my rack by nailing a cross piece at the foot and tying my ankles wide apart. I used the dual weights and this time the orgasms were even greater. I tortured my pussy every day and my entire crotch was bruised when I returned to college.

          I was invited to spend spring break with one of my room mates who lived in Aspen. I’d never been there and wanted to see the town. I’d cleared it with Mom but the plans fell through. My room mate’s father got sick and the family had to cancel the invitation, so I drove home. And got the shock of my life.

          I parked in front of the barn and was walking to the house when I heard an odd noise from the barn. I looked inside and saw the weight from my torture rack swinging from the loft. The board protruded over the rail and I saw a pair of hands tied to the end of the weight rope. I stood frozen in absolute astonishment. My first thought was to sneak away, get in my car and drive back to Denver, but I just couldn’t leave.

          I tiptoed up the ladder. At the top I peeked over the edge and almost shrieked with delight.

          Mom, my wonderful mother, the sweetest woman on God’s earth lay naked on the plank. Her legs were tied apart and her body was stretched tight by the weight.

          Mom had gone one better than me. I had often gagged myself, and Mom was wearing one of my gags, but she had also blindfolded herself. I had never been blindfolded. As I looked at my mother I wondered how I could have over looked such a neat part of bondage.

She had also made a slight change to my design. The crotch rope was separate from the main weight. She could use the broom stick to push it off after the main weight dropped.

          Mom writhed on the plank. Her body rippled in passion. I was utterly fascinated at the sight. I wondered if I looked that sexy when I was on the plank. Small whimpers escaped her gag, whimpers of ecstasy. I watched silently as she enjoyed her bondage. After a few moments her hands felt around until she located the stick and she pushed the pussy rope weight off.


          Mom went ballistic when that rope snapped tight in her pussy. She screamed in her gag and her body arched up until only her heels and the back off her head were touching the board. She pulled on the rope holding her wrists, opened her knees and humped upwards against the pussy rope. Then she relaxed and let the ropes tighten. She did this several times.

          I was so turned on that I wanted to touch her. I wanted to have sex with my own mother. I fought this terrible urge, ashamed of myself, disgusted and feeling dirty. I managed to control myself and started to leave. Then Mom let out a long shuddering moan and began humping her pussy rope again. I couldn’t stop myself.

          I walked to the edge of the loft and lifted the pussy rope weight. I looked at my mother and let it drop.

          She wasn’t expecting that and when the rope jerked tight she came up off the plank. Another orgasm must have hit because she thrashed and squirmed for several minutes. Then she realized that someone was there. She made frantic question sounds through her gag. She twisted her head around and tried to rub the blind fold off. I grasped her pussy rope and jerked it hard. She squealed and thrashed wildly. When she settled down I jerked the rope again. She was so frantic that the plank was bouncing with her. I waited until she calmed down, gave the rope one more yank then climbed down the ladder. On the ground floor I pulled the main weight to the side so that it was no longer against the sickle blade and hooked it to the wall. Now she couldn’t get loose.

          I went into the house and unpacked.

          I glanced into Mom’s bedroom and saw ropes tied to the corner posts of her bed. Her bed was neatly made as usual and the ropes were likewise coiled neatly and tied with little bows. After seeing that I felt as if nothing on Earth could shock me.

          I unpacked my things then made myself a snack. Afterwards I undressed and walked out to the barn. Mom was lying quietly on the plank. She hadn’t managed to loosen her blindfold. Her head lifted when she heard me climb the ladder. I watched her nipples harden. I couldn’t resist temptation. I pinched one.

          Mom’s body tensed, a slight gasp escaped the gag. I pinched harder, then harder still. She moaned and tried to open her legs wider. I knew what she wanted but just couldn’t bring myself to touch her pussy. I stepped back. Mom whimpered in frustration, she rolled her body toward me, clearly offering that nipple for more attention. I took a deep breath and pinched it again, digging my nails deep into her flesh. Her whimpers changed to a deep satisfied purring sound, something I’d never heard her make before. Keeping the pressure on her nipple I took hold of her pussy rope and suddenly yanked on it hard. She went wild.

          Mom thrashed so violently that I couldn’t keep my hold on her nipple. I let go and stepped away. I sat on a hay bale, spread my legs and played with my pussy while I watched my mother writhe in ecstasy.

          Mom finally calmed down, her breathing returned to normal. I walked over and undid her blindfold. She looked at me in shock and embarrassment and a hint of relief. I removed her gag.

          “Hi Mom, I’m home,” I said cheerfully.

          “Oh God. I hoped that it was you,” she said.

          “You did?” I asked.

          She blushed. “I mean, rather than some stranger,” she said.

          “That’s funny,” I said. “When I tie myself I fantasize about being found by some handsome stranger.”

          “You know what I mean,” she said. “Now will you untie me?”

          “Are you sure?” I asked. “I’d say you look pretty good tied there.”

          “She blushed again. “Yes, untie me. I have to go to the bathroom.”

          “Oh, all right,” I said. “I want to tie myself up anyway.”

          I untied Mom and she hopped off the plank and fled to the house.

          I removed the sickle blade, tied myself in Mom’s place and let the weight drop. It was wonderful to be home.

          Mom came back wearing a robe. She was embarrassed but wanted to talk about bondage. She told me that she had began tying herself up shortly after I started. She was just better at concealing it from me. She told me that she had watched me a few times and had been doing many of the self bondage techniques that I used. She was surprised that I hadn’t guessed as much. She told me that she had been watching the night I’d tied myself to the front gate. We giggled when I told her about talking to the officer who  came so close to discovering me.

          “What would you have done if he had found you?” she asked.

          “I would have let him do anything he wanted,” I replied.

          She looked at me for a moment. “He missed another chance a few nights later,” she said.

          “What do you mean?”

          “He would have found me tied naked between the gate posts.”

          “Wow, Mom!” I gasped in awe. “Really?”

          She nodded. “And tonight, if someone happens along that road, he just might get a double surprise.”

          I almost had an orgasm when Mom said that.

          She left me tied to the plank for several hours. She released me at ten o’clock and we sat and talked until midnight. Then we walked naked to the gate. I offered to tie her but she told me that there was no need. I watched as she expertly tied herself to the post.

          She hammered stakes in the ground to hold her legs open, tied her ankles to them, then using a flexibility that astonished me she tied herself to the post with a waist rope, then tied her wrists behind the post.

          “Can you get loose?” I asked.

          She smiled at me and a second later brought her hands around to the front. “Your old mom knows a few things about life that just might surprise you,” she said, retying her wrists.”

          “There’s no question about that,” I said.

          I tied myself to the other post.

          I don’t know what it is about tying myself to that gate, but every time I do, not a single car will drive by. Any other night the damn road is like Broadway in Denver.

          Mom and I talked about what we hoped would happen when we were discovered. I found out that Mom has a pretty rich imagination and she came up some very erotic scenarios. I was impressed.

                                                      CH 4

          I went back to college and my room mates.

My sophomore year was much better. I rented a tiny apartment and had privacy. I bought some second hand furniture including a king sized four poster bed. It was almost too big for my bedroom but it was perfect for tying myself to.

I got a job working as an information hostess at a large shopping mall. My job was to sit in a booth and direct shoppers to the right stores make public address announcements and act a sort of radio dispatcher for the security guards. The mall closed at nine except for a movie theater which usually let out at midnight. After closing the information booth I’d work two more hours in the mall office doing filing and accounting. I got off work at eleven and the mall policy was to have a guard escort female employees to their cars after closing.

One guard in particular was very cute. His name was John and he was a police officer who moonlighted at the mall. He was very handsome and had a strong, no nonsense personality. John was almost thirty and I was nineteen.

          One evening I was in the office when John brought in a man he had arrested for shoplifting. The man was in handcuffs. John called for a police car to take the man to jail. After the officers arrived they took John’s handcuffs off the man and put their own on him. John tossed the handcuffs on the desk and wrote his report. I wandered over and began toying with them. I pretended only idle curiosity, but actually I was very interested in the handcuffs. John was intent on writing the report and paid little attention to me, even after I sat on the desk and crossed my legs. I snapped the hand cuffs onto one of my wrists. My pussy throbbed as soon as it clicked shut. I had never worn handcuffs, but I liked the feel of them. I played with it for a few minutes, then coyly asked John to unlock it. He barely looked at me, took out his key and unlocked the cuff. Then he went back to writing.

I played with the cuffs and this time snapped them onto both my wrists. John looked up in annoyance and unlocked me again. This time I decided to go for broke. I picked up the handcuffs and walked across the office. I slipped out of my dress and slip then cuffed my hands behind my back. I was very excited, being nearly naked and with my hands cuffed behind me. An old familiar heat grew in my pussy. John was so intent on his report that he never even looked up. The office door was not locked and any of the  other guards could have walked in. I didn’t care. I just waited for John to look at me.

John’s eyes widened when he glanced up and saw me in my underwear. He looked at me for a few seconds, then stood up and walked to me. My heart was pounding so loudly that I was sure he could hear it. He turned me around and looked at the handcuffs.

He started to unhook my bra.

“That’s not the way to do it.” I said.

          He understood completely and yanked my bra off my breasts. Then he ripped my panties to shreds. He lifted me onto a desk and swept everything on it to the floor. My weight pressed onto my handcuffed wrists, which hurt and excited me at the same time. John didn’t even take off his gun belt. He just unzipped his pants, and entered me. I lost my virginity in a fashion that was almost too wonderful to believe.

 I was helpless, handcuffed, naked and in a public place. John was big and powerful. He fucked me in his uniform, with the heavy gun belt and all the metal things on it. I wondered if I would have bruises on my tummy, and hoped I would.

I had a wonderful orgasm the second he entered me and several more before he was finished.

Something clicked between John and me that night. He had looked into my soul and seen the secret me that I had so carefully hidden from the world. I was afraid that he would not respect me, but that wasn’t the case.

          After I got dressed and straightened up the office, John walked me to my car. We stood in the parking lot and talked for hours. I opened my heart to him and told him about my fantasies. It was wonderful to see that he still liked me and understood my perverse needs. In fact, he was a little red in the face and was tugging on his collar by the time I finished telling him about some of my escapades.

The next evening John dropped by the information booth. While we talked he knelt down to check the radio mounted under the counter. It was in an awkward location and was always getting bumped and knocked loose, then one of the men would have to get under there and fix it. While he was under the counter I felt something cold and hard on my ankles. John had locked his handcuffs on them!

My ankles were slender and the handcuffs fit around them easily. I felt an instant heat between my legs. John stood up, smiled at me and casually wandered away. I sat there in a state of shock, confusion and erotic excitement. I was helpless, hobbled with hundreds of people around!

I sat there trying to do my job and desperately trying to maintain some composure. I’m sure my face was bright red, and my heart was pounding. I managed to get myself under control and began to enjoy what John had done. I discovered that I could stand up, but couldn’t walk, I could only shuffle. Now that was very exciting, but pretty obvious to anyone watching. I sat back down and experimented with getting my knees as far apart as possible. I had to work my feet around but managed to cross my ankles, which allowed me to open my knees. I had to do all of this very discretely and slowly so no one would notice.

After about thirty minutes, during which I talked to dozens of mall customers, the phone rang. It was John calling from a pay phone. He asked if I was enjoying myself or wanted him to remove the cuffs. I told him that I was but perhaps he should remove them before I was discovered. He told me that he would make a deal with me. I would have to trade my panties for the handcuffs. He told me to have my panties down around my ankles when he came back. If they weren’t there, then he would leave the handcuffs on me.

I waited until no one was around, then crouched behind the desk and reached under my skirt. I yanked my panties down, then resumed my seat. I was blushing again when John strolled up. He was with another guard.

They leaned on the counter and chatted idly with me. I had a terrible struggle pretending everything was normal. I was very aroused by my situation, but I wanted John to free me before my relief showed up. I sure didn’t want her to come behind the desk and see my panties and John’s handcuffs around my ankles. I casually asked John if he would check the radio box while he was there. He shrugged, came behind the counter and knelt at my feet. He slid his hand up my leg and touched my pussy. It nearly killed me to keep my expression normal. Then John unlocked the cuffs and tapped my foot. I stepped out of the panties. He stood up and was holding my panties. He made no effort to conceal them. The other guard didn’t notice, and John casually folded them up and tucked them in his shirt pocket like a handkerchief.

I was dying trying not to giggle as John stepped around me and left the booth. He and the other guard walked away. Later John called again and invited me to go home with him. He told me that he was going to strip me naked in his car and put handcuffs on me before we left the parking lot, then he was going to drive me to his place and tie me to his bed. I was so hot and damp that I thought I’d cum just listening to him. I managed to croak out that I’d go with him.

I got off at eleven, John at midnight. At eleven he walked me out to his car. Employees had to park on the outer perimeter of the lot and by that time it was deserted and dark. John made me stand in the open and take my clothes off. Then he handcuffed my wrists and ankles and told me to lie down across the back seat. I was very excited and did as he said. He covered me with a coat and went away. I lay there for the next hour in a state of incredible excitement.

When John finally arrived I was ready to cum. If he had touched me anywhere on my body I think I would have.

John drove me to his house and made me walk to the door naked. Inside he tied me to his bed, my legs wide, wonderfully, wide apart. And he fucked me all night long.

Then next day I skipped class and John called in sick. I spent the entire day tied to his bed, with only breaks for the bathroom and a quick bite to eat. I was in heaven.

John and I were lovers for three years. He liked tying me up and listened to all of my experiences and fantasies. He even created a few new ones.

After he had cuffed my ankles, I started doing it to myself. He gave me a set of handcuffs, and I would lock them on my self in a lot of different ways. I was always naked and in cuffs when he came to my apartment.

          Working at the mall gave us lots of erotic opportunities. Many nights John would work the graveyard shift. He would be the only person in the mall until the morning. Normally he made regular rounds, sat in the office reading and monitoring the alarms, and chatting with other cops who would cruise by and bring him coffee. After midnight he usually had the building to himself.

I started staying behind after work. After everyone was gone John would tie me up in different. There were a lot of secret places in that mall, back service corridors, utility closets, air conditioner rooms, storage rooms, enormous ventilation ducts, etc. There are a couple of miles of twisting service corridors and it was very easy to get lost in them. There are lots of hiding places to tie a naked girl in.

One evening John stripped me naked in the mall office. He locked a leather collar around my neck, tied my hands behind me, and took me with him on his rounds. It was terribly exciting being led around like a slave girl. We roamed all over the building. John would stop occasionally and do wonderful things to me, and then we would resume our rounds. After leading me all through the building he took me to the huge center court, made me kneel and suck his cock.

Another time he tied me in a way that still makes me hot.

He found some of the suction grippers that window installers use. He stuck them on the marble floor in center court and tied me spread between them. Then he walked away.

I shop at that mall and even after thirty years my pussy throbs when I walk through that center court.

Sometimes John would tie me to a post or something and leave me alone for a while. I could think up some pretty erotic images while he was gone. And there was an element of risk involved. Although the mall was closed we occasionally came across someone working late in one of the stores, or a cleaning crew. A few times we almost ran into people in the corridors. I had to duck out of sight until they were gone.

I played a game with John called Tied and Seek. I would find a hiding place in the mall, strip naked and tie myself up. John had to find me. When he did he got to make love to me. It was a great game.

I discovered an interesting place in the mall. Over the main entrance was a big empty space, which supported the huge main sign. The letters in the sign were plastic and were eight feet tall and hollow. The floor of that space, was wire mesh and it was above the main entrance doors. There were some slender walkways above the mesh that gave access to the sign. The mesh was intended to support a plaster ceiling, but apparently the plaster was never applied. The mesh was fifteen feet above the floor below and the space above was dark. Anyone looking up wouldn’t see a thing except darkness, that is, until the sign lit up after dark. Then the space was filled with a bright red light from the neon sign.

I went in on a day off. I wrote a series of notes giving directions to find me then hid them throughout the mall. I put the first one in John’s box. I went up to the plenum, undressed and walked out on one of the walkways. I looped a rope over a ceiling beam, tied my ankles wide apart to a pair of the walkways, slipped my hands into the loop in the rope and tugged it tight.

I could look down on the heads of people as they passed beneath me. It was very erotic. I wondered what they would think if they knew that a naked girl was just above them.

          I had planned that John would find me and release me before the sign came on, only he didn’t. He got busy with his duties and didn’t get to me until well after dark. I almost panicked when the lights came on. I was now quite visible to anyone who might happen to look up. And of course this was quite a turn on.

When John finally reached me he didn’t untie me right away. Instead he played with my pussy until I had an orgasm. It was incredible!

          When the weather got warm John took me up to the roof. I was amazed at how huge it was. It covered several acres. It was also a mass of pipes, ducts and air conditioners. I gasped and my nipples grew hard when I saw all the pipes. I wanted to be tied to them.

          John knew what I was thinking. I made him promise that he would tie me to every pipe on that roof. There were hundreds.

          I’ve spent hours tied to pipes atop that mall. Sometimes I spent the entire night and watched the sun come up. Once a pipe burst in the building and John had to call the fire department and page out the building maintenance men to deal with it. He couldn’t get back to until almost nine o’clock. Fortunately I wasn’t visible from the ground, but I was very excited. Here I was bound naked in broad daylight in the middle of the city! I was a basket case of passion when he finally got back to me.

          One night, while playing “Tied and Seek” I discovered that the back door to the beauty salon didn’t lock correctly. I tiptoed inside thinking I’d hide there until John found me. The salon is directly across from the movie theater and people were walking around. I ducked down until I realized that they couldn’t see me. The salon was dark and the mall outside was brightly lit. I was invisible to passersby.

          I left the salon when I realized that john probably wouldn’t look for me inside a store. That wasn’t part of the game. But I did get an idea.

          The next evening I took a radio from the security office, stripped naked and went back to the salon. Sure enough, the door wasn’t secure. I went inside, dragged a chair to the window and tied myself to it, legs apart. I kept a hand free and called John on the radio.

 I told him what I was doing but not where I was. I gave him little hints and made him walk all over the building. I finally guided him to the theater, and could see him through the window. He looked around in puzzlement until I finally told him where to look. He couldn’t see me until he used his flashlight.

He had one of those powerful police flashlights that can illuminate a ball park. It lit me up big time. John stared at me in astonishment until someone walked by and he quickly shut off the light. He went around to the back door, came in and untied me. He yanked me out of the chair and bent me over the back. I was giggling and had to remind him to tie me. He did, then fucked me like a wild man, all the time people walked past the window.

John built a bondage frame out of lumber and stored it in a utility closet near the salon. He made it so that it disassembles easily. He would set it up in the salon and tie me to it with my arms and legs spread wide. I spent many wonderful hours watching unsuspecting people walk past me just outside the windows.

We made love in the salon many, many times, and I still get my hair done there.


          Author’s Note: Many people have said nice things about the other stories I’ve written. A few even guessed that Shackleford Bond is really a woman. I’ve enjoyed writing those stories. They grew from my imagination and are works of fiction. This story is not.

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