The borrowed house

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The borrowed house

Postby arc » 20 Apr 2021, 16:41

Helping people out has it’s advantages, a few years before I’d put all the wiring into a friend’s house he was building, so when I got the call “hey, we’re going away to our condo for the week, if you want to stay over help yourself to the pantry, and don’t drink all my whisky”
Obviously I had to make the most of the place…

Even pulling into the yard that evening I was feeling a bit of nervous excitement, I retrieved a couple of bags and locked up my truck, found the keys where my lovely hosts had left them. First thing was to double lock all the doors and pull down the blinds, then checking my phone, a few messages that they had had a good flight and were safely getting drunk by their pool, nicely confident no one was going to bother me I stripped off my clothes and dumped them in a empty bag, applying a quick and dirty gag, a piece of rubber hose with a large zip tie through it. Pulling my head down to work it nicely snug. Absolutely no way of removing this without a cutter. Then I got to work. An electrical device clamped to the door frame in the downstairs hallway. Around this time my jaw was aching from the fairly strict gag, drool tumbling down my chin. Leaving an extra key and wire cutters on the kitchen table I headed upstairs. A bag of things in the upstairs bathroom. In the attic bedroom another bag, two lockboxes, one is kinda neat, a maglock inside holds the lid down on a timer, set for midnight. Some keys were inside. The other is simple, just a loop on the lid and two padlocks through it, some other keys were in here. One key was on the electrical device downstairs, the other I dropped on the floor in the kitchen. Both lockboxes got secured to the heavy bed with a short chain.

In the bathroom, I turned the shower on nice and hot, retrieving a few things from my bag and putting them ready in the shower. Some strong menthol shower gel was first. I soaped up everywhere except my genitals, enjoying the interesting view as the drool cascading from my gagged mouth made tracks through the foam. Then before I got too turned on it was time for some more interesting play, taking a good squirt of the menthol gel and a nail brush, I took a deep breath and quickly worked it into my cock and balls. The stiff bristles of the brush making me wince as I worked the gel quickly around the head. Next, before the sensation had really kicked in, I locked the cage around. This cage is snug on a good day and I’d timed it just right, getting hard from the attention just as the icy burn from the menthol was starting, I rinsed the loose soap off and turned off the shower. The swelling feeling and the icy burn had me shaking a little and gasping, with no way to get any relief.

In between gasps, I towelled off, and got the rest of my bag contents out. First thing to find was my instructions, these I’d simply written all the possible orders of applying the next items on separate sheets, then picked one up at random. Same result in the end, just a little less control, and it could make quite a difference to the level of challenge. The paper was folded to make it easy to show only the next item, first “stockings”, nice and easy, self explanatory, black, wet look hold ups. “Corset”. There goes the easy order of doing things, I’d recently upgraded from a cheap corset to a real leather item with lots of steel boning and boy do you feel it. I looped the laces around the door handle and leant on them, reaching up to pull each one until it was tight. Resisting the urge to run downstairs and cut the infernal gag off I unfolded the next item on the paper; “heels”. Killer. Maybe 4.5” with hardly any platform at all, lacing up around my ankle. These were a real challenge to put on with the corset already tight, it limited my movement so much. I tested standing in them enjoying the restriction and the wobble. The flexing and moving had made my body relax into the corset, I thought this needed addressing so I pulled some more tension into the laces. Next on the list “waist chain”, I pull this one snug, so it’s just adding a tiny bit more to the corset, then lock it in place; “hobbles,” another length of chain, and two locks, around each ankle leaving a loose section between. Enough to allow walking, but not even the full step I could take in the heels. Last on the list, “heel locks,” a Y-shaped chain, the top of the Y goes around the ankle and the lower bit loops under the instep making the heels near impossible to remove. Bending down to lock these in place was near impossible with my ankles held close together, several wraps of electrical tape around the instep of each foot, the heels certainly were not coming off easily. Last, a leather cuff around each wrist, these are one of the simplest things I’ve ever crafted but they are so effective. Just a length of 1/8” leather, each end folded over and an eyelet stitched into place. These I locked together behind my back with the last lock.

Standing to look at myself in the big mirror in the hallway I pondered my situation. The keys for the wrist cuffs on the kitchen table along with the cutters to release the gag, restricted, hobbled, chained. Every key for every item so far was in the timer box and stuck until midnight. The hall clock said 6pm. This felt like a major scene already and I was hardly started! The feelings of excitement overcome all and the remaining menthol reminds me of it’s presence inside the cage.
I set off down the stairs, slow, ponderous, shuffling steps, feet already feeling sore, my balance already a little difficult I look at the electrical release device as I pass by it feeling scared about what is to come. Reaching the kitchen, I release the cuffs and finally remove the infernal bit gag, flexing my jaw and finding a towel to clean the drool off.
Heading back up to the attic room I bundle the bedclothes into the corner and arrange the contents of my second bag on the bed. First some belts, locking buckles and steel rings. These went around my ankles first, then calves, then thighs. The metal rings sitting in between my legs acting as cinches pulling each belt into a figure 8 shape. I make sure they’re tight enough to restrict my legs bending, sitting on the bed is ok, a high kneel too, but I can’t sit back. More struggling to bend down far enough to padlock the buckle on the ankle belt. Next more belts, a belt twisted into an 8 goes over each shoulder, at it’s midpoint between my shoulders there is another made into a loop, this will be for my upper arms later. Next the Hook. I take my time with this, lubing it with my tongue, taking a high kneel at the bed side I slowly slide it up my ass. The loop at the end barely reaches the waist chain, I put my faced on the floor, ass in the air and arch, pulling it snug into place to allow locking it to the waist chain. I realise I’ve hardly been breathing for the whole time so with the “click” of the lock I relax and take a deep breath. The deep breath brings an intense sensation to my ass and I suddenly realise that with it locked in place I need to stay arched or the solid stainless steel pulls hard up into my ass! The sensation is overwhelming and my cock throbs against the cage. It’s frustrating. I have a sudden realisation of how stuck I am already. The keys just a foot away are totally inaccessible. But it feels like I’ve come too far to not finish now.
arc
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Re: The borrowed house

Postby arc » 20 Apr 2021, 16:41

I carefully array the rest of the items on the bed. This is to be an intense and multi layered scene. First some ear plugs, I carefully roll them up and fit them as deep as they’ll go. Enjoying the sensation as they expand and close off 90% of the sound. Next it’s time for it to go dark, I take a last look around the big master bedroom and imagine my route to escape, then taking two pieces of Elastoplast tape, I secure them over my eyes. Next my neoprene blindfold, roughly a cylinder, with a triangle cut out for my nose. It’s very snug, and blocks out every last bit of light even on its own. It also covers my ears and blocks even more sound. Next the gag, another one of my arts and crafts projects, a clear PVC panel with a hole and ring gag inside it, I fuss with the straps in the dark trying to make sense which is which. Eventually working out what goes where I work all the straps tight. It’s an impressive and intimidating gag, a few more straps and it’d be basically a hood. The heavy leather straps going up and over my head framing my nose, and running around just above the bridge of my nose, make it utterly impossible to “rub” the blindfold off. I try to flex and move my jaw but it’s rigidly clamped down onto the rubber coated ring by the straps under my chin.
Just the last locks now, I try stand up for a moment to see what it’s like to balance in the dark. It’s terrifying, unsteady on the killer heels, every muscle in my legs working in odd directions to steady me, and I kneel back down on the hardwood floor.
I take the last two locks and a length of chain in hand, I struggle to slide my elbows down through the belt between my shoulder blades, the effort and wiggling makes me breath heavy and I feel the first drop of drool run down my chin. My elbows now secured I have a final few moments thinking through the whole scenario. It feels nuts. It feels risky. But god it feels good. I loop one padlock through the wrist cuff D rings and the short chain and click it shut. No going back now, I may as well go all the way. The last lock I take in hand and arch my back as hard as the corset and elbow tie lets me, the anal hook has a modification just for this reason, a loop added to it at its lowest point, the final click and my arms will be completely stuck behind me, pulled down to my ass, no way to even reach my arms around my sides. A little experimenting, one more link, one less link, can I quite pull down to the next one? Click. I’m in. Stuck. More stuck than I’ve ever managed before. I try wiggling. I try tensing. I try pulling with all my strength with every muscle. I roll onto the bed and try pulling my feet back to my hands in a hogtie position to loosen the ankle straps or heels, I manage to barely brush the shaft of the heels and the ankle strap with the tip of my finger then instantly regret it from the sensation in my ass. I take stock of my situation, I can wriggle and drool and not much else. I imagine how I look in the tight, black outfit and restraints.
arc
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Re: The borrowed house

Postby arc » 20 Apr 2021, 16:42

Waiting for the “oh shit get me out of here” feelings to subside I decide to try have some fun. I wriggle around on the bed until I find my toys. The cordless wand I set to a changing vibration pattern and try and reach my cock. I can’t even get it around to my hip. Trying to go between my legs has no chance due to the straps. I try to position it on the mattress then roll myself onto it but it’s hardly successful. I realise I can barely hear the wand, so effective is my sensory deprivation. I try to press my cock down onto the wand but as soon as I do, the soft mattress takes all the vibration or the wand rolls down to where my knees are making a depression in the mattress. Meanwhile all the wriggling is fucking my ass with the hook. It’s a perfect frustration. The furthest I can get is to make my cock swell against the cage and hurt as the firmness and sweat reactivates the menthol.
I decide it’s time to start working towards freedom. I swing my legs off the mattress and drop to the floor with some difficulty. It takes me some time to work out the best way to scoot myself along the floor. Maybe an inch a time. This is going to be slow. The hook reminds me of its presence with every scoot. I work along the wall, through the doorway and “wait, what” I’ve met a wall. What the? There should be the attic stairwell here, but no. I roll over and feel around. Shelves. Linen. Talk about getting out of the wrong side of the bed! Back up and reverse direction, I realise that I’ve no idea where the bed is, it’s a big room. I scoot right past it to the opposite wall and find the stairs. Now it gets tricky. I place my heels down the first step and sit up. Rolling painfully over the loop welded to the anal hook I lean forward and drop down one step. Heels. Ass. Repeat.
arc
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Joined: 14 Dec 2020, 13:25

Re: The borrowed house

Postby arc » 20 Apr 2021, 16:42

First floor corridor, carpeted now so much slower. More scooting. I try on my side and get lost again. Finally finding the stairs and bumping down them to the last step. Now for the scary part. Remember my electrical device from the first page? It’s a dildo with a temperature sensor hooked to a magnet and a key. I put my heels on the floor and sit on the first step, rocking myself forward I inch my hands up the rail until I’m standing. I’m terrified and gasping, feeling shaky. I can “walk” along the wall slowly, so slowly. Maybe 1/8th inch per pathetic shuffle as I use the wall to keep balance. After what seems like a thousand steps I finally feel something on my nose, only one way to get this warm now, I have to shuffle away from the wall to get the angle to slide the toy into my drooling mouth. I can hardly balance to lean onto it so I have to shuffle slowly forwards. My feet burn but at least it gives some side to side balance. Balance is so hard, after what feels like no time I almost lose it and move forward sharply. The toy slams to the back of my throat and I can’t even pull back fast. I can hear nothing but my slurping grunts and feel agony in my feet. I can feel drool cascading down my face, chest, an occasional drop landing on my cock, running down my thighs. Another wobble forward, another slam to the back of my throat. “Don’t puke. Don’t puke” I try to relax, to be good and take it. The temperature sensor is at the back, I tested this. It took 5 minutes 20 seconds. This now feels a fucking long time. Legs tiring now I wobble again, backwards and forwards. Unintentionally throat fucking myself hard half a dozen times. I realise my only respite is to lean forward so my head touches the door frame, the dildo deep in my throat, only the angle keeping it far enough out to not make me gag and choke. But this strains my thighs, as they burn with the effort I realise the accidental predicament I’ve created. I can’t see or hear. I won’t see or hear the key drop. If I go check for the key, the toy will cool down and I’ll be back where I started. I sob at the realisation. My thighs run out of energy, I have to go back to vertical to the wobbling and the throat fucking. I wait it out. I start counting thousands. I lose count. I start again. I drool. I retch. I slurp. I get to ten sixty thousands and that’s it. I wobble myself back to the floor and slide down the wall. Rolling forwards onto my knees I overbalance and flop onto my side, I’m absolutely wasted. Please let the key have dropped, I can’t do that again. Everything hurts. I scoot to the doorframe and roll onto my front. Feels like I’m laid in a gallon of drool. The key should dangle here. It’s not here, I can’t feel it, I’m sobbing again with frustration and pain when I roll sideways I feel something brush my arm, something small and metal and Thank god for that it’s there. I scoot slowly and untie it, energy recovering now, then scoot into the kitchen for the other key. My hands are so restricted I can search a few square inches at a time. It takes forever. I must have slid over the thing and not felt it due to the leather and metal of the corset half a dozen times.
arc
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Joined: 14 Dec 2020, 13:25

Re: The borrowed house

Postby arc » 20 Apr 2021, 16:42

But finally, I scoot a little on my search pattern and feel a cold metal touch on my ass cheek. A minutes struggling later and finally I have both keys. Now just to repeat the struggle upstairs. Sit on a step, push up with heels, too tired now to care to avoid the harsh bump of the anal hook against every stair. I’m almost used to the blackness now, feels like I’m navigating fine. I take the wrong turn again. Finally the attic stairs. More bumping. The bedroom, I struggle to find the bed, to find the lockbox, sweaty slippery fingers struggle to fit the keys to the locks but one by one they click open. I turn the box over to find the keys and finally, eventually get my hands loose. Once sat on the bed I’ve barely the strength to wiggle my arms to escape the elbow loop. I lose the gag, sobbing again as I work the knots out of my jaw and then puzzle through the rest of the jumble of keys and locks and straps. I’m wasted, soaked in sweat and drool. Every muscle hurts like hell. And I’m still stuck. I unsteadily make my way to the en suite and towel off and drink some water.
arc
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Joined: 14 Dec 2020, 13:25

Re: The borrowed house

Postby arc » 20 Apr 2021, 16:43

to be finished later
arc
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Posts: 19
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Re: The borrowed house

Postby arc » 20 Apr 2021, 16:44

placeholder 2
arc
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Re: The borrowed house

Postby Shannon SteelSlave » 04 May 2021, 00:32

All I can think of is, did you check for nanny cams?
Bondage is like a foreign film without subtitles. Only through sharing and practice can we hope to understand.
A Jedi uses bondage for knowledge and defense, never for attack.
I am so smart! I am so smart! S-M-R-T!....I, I mean S-M-A-R-T!
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Re: The borrowed house

Postby thatthat21 » 04 May 2021, 21:42

Shannon SteelSlave wrote:All I can think of is, did you check for nanny cams?

Was thinking about the same kind of thing, like as soon as they get free. They check their phone and there is a message asking them about what is going on.
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