A Self-Bondage Vignette, Female [bd]

I was taking care of my family’s three acres that summer in between my third year of college and my fourth. I sat at the well-scuffed, stained roll top desk we had outside the tack room. It was filled with old papers and account statements. There was a bottle of aspirin in one cubbyhole and a packet of condoms. I smiled when I spotted two elongated magnets in a box that was otherwise filled with paper clips and writing pent and staples. The magnets were from back when my family owned a dairy.

The barn itself had once housed horses and it had a series of stalls, enough for eight horses total. Toward the back, there were bales of hay and a drop-down ladder that led to what we called the upper rafters where we stored whatever the fuck needed storing. Spinning my chair around, I looked down at the brown parcel box with the suit and shoes and other items in it. I had ordered them myself. Now, alone, I finally had time to explore the contents of the package.

No one ever came out this way. We were at the very end of the road and one of the last private properties in the area. Everything else was slowly being converted to light industrial manufacturing and big box warehouses. I stood and kicked off my tennis shoes and then shimmied out of my jeans and underwear. I then pulled off my green Seattle Seahawks t-shirt and stood there enjoying the crisp chill of the night air as I stood naked beneath the harsh neon lights hung in the office portion of the barn. Going through the box, I pulled out a pair of black, ultra-sheer panties hose and slipped into them. I laughed when I realized they had no crotch. Kinky! I thought. Wriggling into the leather and latex suit was a trick. It fit like it had been crafted to my every measurement.

My feet were bare and my hands stuck out. It had an attachable hood that I put to the side for now. It was off-white. I looked almost like a super hero in white leather and latex. My breasts were visible, my hips. I was clearly a girl, but I also wasn’t specifically any one girl in this suit. There were shoes that were sort of fashioned along ballet slipper with five inch heels. They stretched out my foot and were almost painful to wear. As I slipped them on, I rephrased my thought. They were painful as fuck to wear. It was like they stretched out my tendons just to stand there wobbling in them. They had little cute heart-shaped locks that fastened to a round u-shaped bolt in the leg of my suit. I locked them in place and set the keys down.

Then I tugged and could tell you wouldn’t easily break the hardened plastic fastening or get out of these shoes without unlocking them. This was a quality product, I thought with a laugh. I stared at the fingerless gloves and hood and decided to pass over them for now. As I did so, I saw the hood’s built-in gagging harness. You could swap out a ring gag for a ball gag or vice versa. There were also ear plugs and they were the Bluetooth style. You could control whatever went into the ear plugs if you wanted too. There were eye coverings, you could flip down. You could also clip the arms behind. This suit was insane. It set my heart racing to think of being trapped in it.

Reaching out, I picked up the hood. It was then I realized that you could insert other devices. A dildo, etc. I shuddered. Not going to happen anytime soon! The suit was made so you would have access to the girls’ vagina, anal passage, and throat, but you wouldn’t see who she was. While I didn’t need this kind of access, it still aroused me. It also deliciously scared me. I felt like a beautiful eroticized fuck doll in this suit. Slipping the hood over my head, I pulled my hair out the back where it fell in a copper red auburn pony tail. I zipped it in place. Then I fastened the hood’s straps and suddenly, I felt like briefly ill as I grew accustomed to the ring gag. Saliva flooded my mouth and I tried to speak, but when I did, all that came out was a sort of inarticulate mumbling.

Now that I had inserted the ear plugs and the world was very quiet. I could no longer hear the buzzing of the neon lamps above or the sound of crickets or even traffic from the distant road. Slipping into my fantasy, I took a sheet of paper and one of the pens in the box with the handcuffs and began to write. I wanted to express my feelings in this setting while in this suit. When I finished writing, I stared at what I had written and knew it was too much. It expressed my fantasy, but not the reality. I would destroy the note in a moment, but for the moment, let my fantasies lay there in the real world, unvarnished and briefly true.

Reaching up, I flipped the eye coverings down and sat there. I couldn’t see or hear anything. My ability to sense was also dulled by the tight, constrictive nature of the suit. Pulling on the gloves, I slipped them into place. Almost instantly, little plastic tabs snapped into place and my heart raced as I saw that the gloves were designed to that they would lock into place when put on.

An hour later, I was still trying to figure out how to get the gloves off. I began to panic.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/6i84dk/a_selfbondage_vignette_female_bd