A Bondage Adventure: Going Diva
Since I wrote about using my cat as a bondage master (see my account Bondage Master Dragon), I have had several sessions of self-bondage. Most were routine,…
*Since I wrote about using my cat as a bondage master (see my account Bondage Master Dragon), I have had several sessions of self-bondage. Most were routine, but one session just finished and from which I am still recovering might be of wider interest. This account started out as a diary, and in rewriting it for this forum I have left in some things that are not directly related to the bondage. I hope you will forgive me. To compensate for this extraneous stuff, I have tried to make the account more interesting by recreating the conversations from memory rather than simply stating the meaning of what was said. I am a very private person and have yet to come out of the bondage closet and would die of shame if my friends or coworkers found out, but I feel the need to tell someone about it, if only to warn them not to do the dangerous thing I did. To protect my identity and that of my friend, I have changed some names and minor details. Thinking about what I did in a saner frame of mind, I now realize that I was incredibly stupid and could have been seriously hurt. So please don’t attempt to replicate my adventure. Because my drawings were so well received last time, I have illustrated this account with a few sketches. * Go Diva Copyright SusanSub 2007 Just as I was about to buckle my gag the phone rang. I quickly removed the gag and began to struggle across the room towards the phone, anxious to reach it before it stopped ringing. Progress was slow since only my arms were free. Success! I stretched up and managed to pick it up on the last ring. “Hi,” I said in my friendliest and most seductive voice. I was expecting the caller to be my boyfriend, Jessie, and I wanted to conceal from him what I was doing. “Hi Sue, how are you doing?” It was Tammy, one of my friends from University. “Hi Tammy. I’m fine, how about you?” “I’m OK, a bit lonely. Seth’s away.” “I’m sorry to hear that. Where is he?” “He’s in Iraq, going to be there for a couple of months.” “Oh, I’m so sorry. You must be worried.” “Well I am a bit, but he assures me it’s safe where he’s at. Are you busy these days? What are you doing?” “Nothing much.” There was not much I could do, chained up as I was. “The reason I’m calling is to invite you to come and visit. It’s lovely this time of year. You could come and stay for a few days. You could stay a month if you like.” The invitation sounded attractive. My relationship with my boyfriend was not developing as well as I had hoped, and I also felt I needed a rest from work. I had been putting in a lot of hours and needed a vacation. It might be good to get away from both my job and my boyfriend. I felt I needed to charge my batteries and assess where I wanted to go in life. “That’s kind of you, I’m tempted. OK, I’ll come,” I said on an impulse. “When do you want me?” “Come anytime. We’ve a big place here and the spare bedroom is already made up.” “How about next Saturday? My boss owes me, and I think he’ll let me take off next week.” “That would be lovely.” “What do you want me to bring?” “Just yourself, I’ve got everything here.” We chatted for a few minutes catching up on what had happened to us and then I said, “I’ve got a cat. Could I bring him?” “Sure, we’ve got a couple of cats here. I’m sure he’ll fit right in.” We chatted some more then said our goodbyes. I struggled back across the room to where the keys would drop from the ice timer. Once my hands were handcuffed it would be difficult to move at all. I wondered why I had left my gag until last instead of inserting it earlier as I usually did. Did I have a premonition that someone would call? Yes I did, but I had felt it would my boyfriend. To hell with him. I picked up my gag, pressed its fat rubbery penis into my mouth and buckled its strap. I reached behind me and locked my left wrist in a handcuff attached to a short chain connected to my butt plug and its retaining crotch chain. I placed my right wrist in the other cuff and paused. Did I still want to go through with the session? You bet! I clicked the cuff closed with my left hand to complete my bondage. Now I had a good two hours of wonderful tight bondage to enjoy before the ice timer released the keys. I would be bent and almost completely immobilized by my chains with nothing to do except futilely struggle to get free, try to stimulate myself to a climax, fantasize and think about Tammy’s invitation. [Image: Image] Bent and almost completely immobilized
The following Saturday I drove out to Tammy’s farm. On the back seat of my car lay a large suitcase filled with the official things I needed for my visit: clothes, toiletries, makeup and so forth. In the trunk of my car was a smaller but heavier suitcase filled with my bondage equipment. I didn’t know if I’d get an opportunity to use much of it, but as the girl scouts’ motto says, it’s always best to be prepared. At least I should be able to sleep at night in the reassuring comfort of chains. I was not bringing my cat. Although his name is Dragon he is somewhat timid and I didn’t think he would enjoy the presumably fiercer and hardier farm cats. I had arranged for a friend to look after him while I was gone. Tammy was waiting for me as I drove into the farmyard. We hugged each other and kissed. It seemed like the old days, except that she was now married. I felt a little of the old feeling for her. I had suspected her of being a closet lesbian, and was very surprised when I received a wedding invitation from her. Her husband Seth was handsome, personable and wealthy. She had done well. It was early afternoon and after showing me to my room, she gave me a tour of the house and outbuildings. “This place used to be a kind of riding academy,” she said leading the way into an enormous barn. “They kept twenty or so horses here and people would rent them to ride the trails. Before that it was a working farm, and that’s when they built these barns. The academy converted them into stables. This has space for twelve horses, but it hasn’t been used in years.” I looked around the cavernous interior. It appeared to be the perfect place for a bondage adventure, plenty of wooden posts to chain oneself to, and lots of space overhead for suspension. Sunbeams slanted down to the floor from small highly placed windows, illuminating the dust we had stirred up and giving the beams sharp and distinct edges. It resembled a scene from an old painting. [Image: Image] The perfect place for a bondage adventure “Let me show you the other one, that’s where we keep our horses.” We walked across the yard to the second barn, a twin of the first. I took deep breaths of the country air, it smelled so different from the city air, clean yet faintly perfumed with the elusive odor of spring. The afternoon was warm, and I could feel the earth coming to life after lying dormant for so long. Yes,” Tammy said, sensing my mood, “Its beautiful here. You really feel connected to nature. I love this place.” We entered the barn and the clean fresh smell of spring was replaced with a decided odor of horse manure. “These are our two horses. This is Summer, he’s a darling, a real gentle soul. You can ride him tomorrow if you want. And this is Lightning, he’s Seth’s horse. He’s a little more lively.” Summer was a chestnut colored horse and looked at me placidly. Lightning was black with a white mark on his forehead and seemed a little nervous. That night I slept in bondage. I smuggled two pairs of handcuffs into my room and locked my ankles and wrists together. I kept the key under my pillow so that in the unlikely event I would be disturbed during the night I could quickly release myself. The following morning we saddled up the horses and set out along one of the trails. It was a beautiful grassy ride enclosed for the most part by trees, but with an occasional distant view. The trees grew together over our heads and at one poi
Didn’t I have to duck to avoid a low-hanging branch? [Image: Image] A lovely grassy path
“Apologies for that,” Tammy remarked. “Keeping these trails in shape costs quite a bit. We’ve let most of them revert to their natural state, but we bring someone in twice yearly to care for a few select ones, and Seth pitches in on weekends.
“Are you ready to trot?” she added. Since leaving the barn, we’d been walking our horses along at a leisurely pace.
“Absolutely.”
Tammy nudged Lightning with her heels, and he immediately broke into a trot. I was about to do the same for Summer, but it turned out unnecessary; as soon as he saw Lightning go, he started trotting on his own.
The walk had been easy enough, but the trot made me bounce up and down in the saddle. It’s an English-style seat with no pommel or horn to hold onto, so I relied entirely on my balance and legs. This wasn’t my first time riding, though I’d hardly call myself a skilled rider. I attempted posting to the rhythm of the trot but didn’t do very well.
Tammy glanced over at me, noticed that I looked calm rather than panicked, and asked, “Ready for the canter?”
“Yes,” I answered, kicking Summer with my heels to urge him forward. I wanted to assert a bit of authority.
It was splendid. Summer’s canter put much less strain on my backside compared to his trot; it felt like a gentle pitching motion rather than that harsh chopping bounce. It was thrilling as we picked up speed along the trail. For a moment, with just my clothes separating me from history, I could have been in medieval times.
Tammy slowed Lightning down to a walk, and I pulled on the reins to follow suit.
“I try to ride them out daily,” Tammy explained. “So it’s good you’re here. Having company while riding really helps.”
Back at the stables, we took off their tack, brushed the horses down, cleaned their legs and hooves, then gave them water and feed.
We rode every day during that time. It was a lovely period; the weather stayed warm, I completely forgot about work, and even managed to stop worrying about my boyfriend. We went shopping and drove into town for a movie.
On Wednesday, noticing my growing confidence in riding, Tammy had the horses gallop on our return to the stables. It was the first time I’d experienced a horse at full gallop. The experience was both wonderfully exhilarating and slightly terrifying.
We repeated this on Thursday. Summer led when we started the gallop, but Tammy urged Lightning forward, and they quickly caught up with us. As they began to overtake us, Summer seemed struck by some competitive urge. He accelerated, galloping much faster than before, almost keeping pace with Lightning. While I held on for dear life, his speed amazed me; I had previously thought all horses galloped at roughly the same speed and hadn’t realized there was such variation. Now that I think about it, it’s quite logical, similar to human runners.
On Friday, Tammy asked how long I planned to stay. “I’m not sure yet,” I said. “I can leave tomorrow if you need me back.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” she clarified. “I’d love for you to extend your visit. What I was getting at is that my mother is unwell, and I want to go down to see her. If you stayed on, you could look after the horses and cats while I’m away.”
“I’d be happy to do that,” I replied. “I hope it’s nothing serious with your mom?”
“Hopefully not; she didn’t sound too bad when we spoke.”
“Then yes, go see her. Don’t worry about the horses.” I was already thinking that having the ranch to myself would be a perfect opportunity to practice some self-bondage, perhaps even try outdoor bondage for the first time.
“Sue, you seem eager to get rid of me,” Tammy teased.
“No, it’s just that I’m trying to keep you from feeling guilty about leaving.”
“Alright then, but don’t cause any trouble while I’m gone. Don’t ride Lightning or gallop Summer too much. And take a cell phone if you do ride him; you wouldn’t want to get stuck out on the trail with a broken leg.”
“I’ll be careful,” I assured her. “Just go look after your mother.”
That night, lying awake in bed, I planned my bondage adventure. The prospect excited me so much that sleep was elusive.
My plan was to ride nude. As a girl, the story of Lady Godiva riding bareback through Coventry had fascinated me. Though too shy and afraid of arrest to do it publicly, I intended to ride naked within the privacy of Tammy’s ranch. To balance this caution with a bit more danger, I planned to combine nudity with bondage.
The biggest risk was falling off. To mitigate this, I wanted to test my idea first. The forecast promised warm, sunny weather for the weekend, so I decided Saturday would be for testing and Sunday for the actual ride.
Tammy left on Saturday morning. I waited until mid-afternoon before saddling Summer for the trial run; this time should match the warmth of a Sunday afternoon best, while still being distinct enough to distinguish the test from the real event. On Saturday, however, I would remain fully clothed, saving the nudity for the main ride to preserve its novelty.
I lengthened the reins so I could hold them in my teeth and set out on the trail. Entering the woods, I placed the reins in my mouth with my hands bound behind me as if handcuffed. My adjustment of the rein length was spot-on; I sat upright comfortably. If I leaned back slightly, I knew I could pull to slow or stop Summer.
I adapted quickly and found my balance quite well. I didn’t want to go too fast, lest it lead to disaster while truly bound. Summer is accustomed to varying his pace on the trail, but I wanted to ensure he stayed at a walking speed for the entire loop.
Although feeling secure, I had taken Tammy’s advice and kept my cell phone in a jeans pocket.
There were no major issues; Summer seemed content with the walk, and I felt steady even with my hands behind me. Dismounting was tricky—I ended up using my hands—but I figured I could manage it while handcuffed if necessary, perhaps sliding or falling off slightly. It only had to be done once, and since no one was watching, elegance wasn’t crucial. The main difficulty might have been holding the reins in my mouth so long; the leather became quite soaked with saliva.
I spoke with Tammy that evening. Her mother had a severe cold, possibly flu. She was bedridden while Tammy cared for her. Tammy said she’d stay a few days and return Tuesday if her mom improved. I agreed that would work fine; I could easily stay the full week if needed.
That night, as I pondered my upcoming ride, I felt the practice walk had been almost too simple. I wanted to add some excitement for myself. After considering various options, though many seemed too risky, I decided on a small modification to the saddle.
Sunday morning arrived. I cut up an old pair of jeans into long strips and laid plastic over the top of the saddle to protect the leather from my bodily fluids. In the longest strip, I cut a hole for a phallus piece, threading it through and wrapping it around the saddle. The phallus had a small flange at its base, allowing the cloth to hold it in place securely, though with some wiggle room. More strips stabilized the structure, and I sewed the ends together. When finished, the saddle was partially draped in fabric with a realistic-looking penis protruding from the center.
[Image: Image] A small attachment to the saddle
It is now half past two on Sunday afternoon—time to go. I undress in my bedroom and fold my clothes neatly onto the bed. Picking up my shiny steel collar, I fasten it around my neck and secure the padlock at the back. Two silver chains connect to a ring on the front.
I fasten my breasts and clip the ends of these chains to my nipple rings. I convince myself that this will help support my breasts.
I pick up my waist chain, wrap it around my waist and padlock it at the back, threading the hasp through the link of a pair of Darby style handcuffs. With my hands secured in these handcuffs it should be slightly harder to balance than it was yesterday, but yesterday was too easy.
These preparations make me excited, but also apprehensive. I consider backing out, but realize that if I don’t go through with it I will spend the rest of my life regretting not doing it. I have analyzed the dangers and persuaded myself that I would survive the worst, which would be falling off the horse. If this happens there are three possibilities. The first is that I will not be seriously hurt. I will stand up and grab the reins with either my teeth or my hands and walk back to the stables leading Summer. The second is that I will be hurt and unable to walk. In this case I will use my cell phone to call for help. I have entered Tammy’s phone number in the fast dial numbers so I can easily call her even with my hands handcuffed behind my back. I suppose that if I break both my arms it might not be possible, but this seems highly improbable, and even if I do it will mean that my legs will most likely be uninjured so that I can walk back. The third possibility, and one with the greatest potential danger, is that one of my feet will get trapped in a stirrup as I fall. But since I will be barefoot, I don’t think this is really possible; my feet will easily slip out of the stirrups.
One minor problem is how to carry my cell phone. I don’t have any pockets to put it in, and I can’t attach it to the saddle since I will need it if I have a serious fall. I decide to carry it in my hands since they won’t be holding anything else.
I walk downstairs, pick up some plastic wrap from the kitchen and open the front door a crack. I nervously peer out. I am sure no one is around, but nevertheless I feel apprehensive. Seeing that the farmyard is deserted, I open the door and step out. The air is cool, but the sun feels warm on my bare skin. I haven’t put any cream or protection on, most of the time I will be under the trees so I shouldn’t get sunburned, and it is early enough in the year that insects should not be too bothersome.
I begin to walk across to the stables. I feel so strange; I can’t remember ever being outside nude like this before. I feel the bare dirt and grass under my feet, the chains tugging on my nipples, and the handcuffs at my back, reminders of what is to come. I can’t help looking around to check that no one is spying on me. I reach the stable and enter its dark interior. As my eyes adjust to the darkness I make my way to Summer’s stall. He looks at me, and I wonder what he is thinking. He has probably never seen a nude woman before. I wonder if he thinks my collar and nipple chains are some kind of harness.
As I put the harness and saddle on him, I wonder what it would be like to be harnessed in this way: confined by leather straps, an uncomfortable metal bit in my mouth, at the mercy of someone else, having to obey their every command instantly without thinking of the consequences, to carry them or pull them in a carriage, to be afraid of the lash, and to be wholly dependent on them for food and water. I feel I might like to try it some day, but I would have to be very sure of the person in control.
I wind the plastic wrap around the middle of the reins, I don’t want it getting soggy like yesterday, then lead Summer outside. I mount him. I feel so strange to be sitting nude on a horse. The phallus is upright between my thighs and nudges the front of my pussy. I am wet with excitement. Standing in the stirrups I direct the phallus into my vagina and slowly sink down on it. It is a large one since I don’t want it slipping out of me too easily. It fills me and I wonder if I should have chosen a smaller one. Experimentally I move my pelvis. Wow, I feel so sexy! I fantasize that I am Lady Godiva. I am nude as she was, but unlike her I am impaled, not that anyone could tell even were they looking closely.
I click my tongue and tap Summer’s flanks with my heels and he begins to walk. Oh god it feels so sexy; the rocking motion of Summer’s walk makes it seem like I am being fucked. I think I am going to have an orgasm even before I reach the trees. I really want to be in bondage for this orgasm so I quickly put the reins in my mouth, my teeth clamping down on the plastic, and reach behind me to handcuff my wrists. Click, pass the cell phone to the other hand, click, it is done. I am trapped in a dangerous position, but I don’t care; I am high with excitement.
Summer continues to walk and now I am helpless to do anything about the penis that moves within me at each step.
I come, oh god it is wonderful! I try to respond to the penis now fucking me into an even higher state and move my hips. I want to cry out, but know I have to keep the reins in my mouth and merely make little moans. I am over the edge, I am in ecstasy.
[Image: Image] I am in ecstasy
Suddenly Summer’s motion changes; he begins to trot. He has interpreted the motion of my pelvis and the tensing of my legs as indicating that I want him to go faster. Oh god, I am going to fall off! And the fucking has becomes a lot more intense; the choppy gait is driving the phallus deep into me at each step. What can I do? I am hardly in control of myself.
I struggle to keep my balance but the handcuffs locked to the back of my waist chain allow my arms almost no motion. Somehow I manage to stay on and lean back. The penis is jabbing into me; it is painful. But Summer slows to a walk and I am saved. I grip him with my knees and lean forwards.
My orgasm slowly dies, and I try to keep from spasming and flexing my legs. It is wonderful yet frightening.
I become aware that we have entered the trees and the sun is no longer hot on my naked body. The phallus is still twisting and sliding into me. I know I am going to have another orgasm. Oh god, this is too much. I can’t take it.
Another orgasm hits me, a fierce wave of uncontrollable passion spreads though me, but I must control it, I must. I cannot drop the reins, I cannot flex my legs. Oh god, please let me survive this.
I need to rest, I try pulling back on the reins but Summer does not stop, he thinks I just am just telling him to walk slower. I can’t pull all the way back, I fear I will lose my balance. I can’t get the penis out of me, I’m afraid that if I stand up in the stirrups I will fall completely off the horse.
Here comes another orgasm, my third. I hang on, trying neither to drop the reins nor excite Summer.
The orgasm passes. The penis is still moving within me, but gradually I feel I can control it. I try to enjoy the ride, to feel that I am accomplishing something, handcuffed on horseback and being slowly and deliciously fucked
I concentrate on the sensations assaulting my body, the motion of the horse, the tugging of the chains on my nipples as my breasts bounce, the flashes of hot sun through the branches, the steel gripping my wrists as I try to move my arms to keep my balance, the gentle breeze, but it is all dominated by the penis squirming and kneading my insides. The beautiful scenery passes almost unnoticed.
I feel I am slowly gaining control and decide to stand up in the stirrups, but only a little way. I dare not stand up all the way to let the penis out, I think I might fall.
The fucking sensation now that I am not sitting on the saddle is different, it is gentler but the strokes are longer. I try to enjoy it but it hurts my bare feet to stand in the stirrups and I feel I might lose my balance, so I slowly sink down onto the shaft.
I get two more orgasms and am thinking that I will be sore for weeks when a dog suddenly darts out from the side of the trail and barks at us.
The dog is alm
I end up at Summer’s feet. He rears back, sending me tumbling backward. It happens so fast I barely register what is going on before my head strikes the ground, followed by my shoulders and arms. I stay conscious but feel dazed as I hear Summer galloping off.
As his hoofbeats fade into the distance, I open my eyes to see the dog standing right next to me. He has stopped barking and is sniffing around; maybe he picks up on my pheromones. Even though his tail isn’t wagging, I don’t feel scared—he’s a small terrier-type.
But then fear hits. A man calls for the dog in the distance with whistles, and the sounds are getting nearer. I’m terrified of being caught—not just because I’m naked and bound, but because whoever it is might take advantage of my helpless position. The dog looks at me hesitantly before turning back toward his master’s voice.
I roll over and try to get off the trail quickly, hiding in the tall weeds along the edge. Just as a man steps out onto the path, I reach the undergrowth. I lie still and watch him fearfully through the bushes. He has a gun slung over his shoulder and wears a cap with a dusty jacket.
He looks toward where I was riding, then turns to face me. I freeze, holding my breath, sure he will see me. Lying on my right side, I wish I could flatten myself into the earth but dare not move a muscle. My heart feels like it’s pounding too loudly. He appears unshaven and younger than I first assumed.
Panic rises as I fear he must spot me soon. How can I explain myself? Running isn’t really an option; he looks athletic, and with my arms pinned behind me, I doubt I could run fast enough.
Fortunately, he seems to miss me. He turns and walks away down the trail toward where Summer fled. Slowly, I relax and breathe again, checking myself as best I can. My head and right shoulder ache, along with my back from landing on the handcuffs, but nothing feels broken or sprained. Things are poking into me, so I stay still.
Once he’s out of sight, I wait a few minutes before struggling to stand up. Should I go after Summer? No, I have no way to catch him while bound this way, and I need to avoid the stranger.
A thorn sticks into my left thigh. I bend down trying to reach it with my mouth but can’t manage. I start walking back toward the barn in the direction I came from.
After a few steps, I realize I’ve lost my cell phone. I retrace my path and spot it among the weeds. Lying down to retrieve it hurts my bruised right wrist as I fumble for it behind me with the handcuffs limiting my reach. Once found, I get up again.
I walk slowly back to the stables, unaccustomed to being barefoot on this mostly grassy trail with few stones.
Worry grows within me. Summer is gone and could be anywhere. I can picture a neighbor or police officer knocking tomorrow saying, “Ma’am, we found your horse wandering. He has… ahem… an unusual attachment to the saddle.”
I would die of embarrassment; what will Tammy think? Maybe once these handcuffs are off and I’m dressed again, I’ll go look for him. But on foot? Searching the ranch by walking could take days. And I dare not ride Lightning yet; he might be too much trouble, especially since Tammy specifically warned me against it.
I curse my foolishness in attempting this adventure but resolve to give up self-bondage soon.
It’s a long walk; I hadn’t realized how far I’d ridden while distracted. My legs are scratched and the soles of my feet sore. I focus on placing each foot carefully, trying not to dwell on what comes next. A persistent fly keeps landing on my face. Shaking my head works briefly but fails eventually. Wishing for longer hair, I try ignoring it.
Thankfully, I opted for minimal bondage earlier. At one point I considered chaining my ankles to the waist chain so I wouldn’t stand up in the stirrups and free myself prematurely from the penis restraint. Had I done that, walking back would have been much harder. I hadn’t fallen off before, nor did I expect it then; mostly, I avoided ankle-chaining because I worried about dismounting later.
My thoughts drift back to the man with the gun. What was he doing? Why carry a weapon? Not being a hunter myself, and unsure of hunting seasons without hearing shots, I assume he isn’t currently shooting.
I reach the end of the trail and see the stables; the door is open. Did I leave it that way? Perhaps in my rush to start this bondage ride, I forgot to close it. Maybe Lightning escaped too, leaving me with both horses lost. Or perhaps the stranger found Summer and waits inside for my return.
Uncertain what to do, I stop. The house remains locked since the keys are in the barn. There’s no choice left; I must enter the stable and accept whatever fate holds.
Approaching cautiously, despair weighs heavy on me as I fear both horses might be missing. What will I tell Tammy? How will I explain the phallus when Summer is located?
Peering through the open door, I hear noises—good news that at least Lightning is inside. Venturing further along the stalls, I find an unexpected sight: Summer is in his stall! He found his way home alone!
Relief washes over me as both horses are safe. Quickly grabbing the handcuff keys from their hook where I left them, I free my hands.
Still naked and battered, I tend to Summer before limping across to the house to release the rest of my bonds and treat any injuries.
Later that evening during our chat with Tammy, I hide most details but mention seeing a strange man with a gun nearby.
“Oh, that’s Sanford from the next farm,” she says. “He’s lovely. You should meet him sometime; you’ll like him.”
That night lying awake reflecting on events, I wonder what would have happened if he’d found me there. Would he have raped me? Unlikely though possible then. Would my nude and bound state arouse him? Probably. Could we have become lovers in a romantic bondage affair? Possibly but unlikely.
One cannot explore every path in life; one must choose the best course and hope for good fortune.
Anyway, there’s always tomorrow.