My Life Without Bondage

by JB

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© Copyright 2001 - JB - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/m; Sbm; bond; cd; nylon; cons; X

This story is an account of my love for bondage, and is true. I can’t write every detail as it would be too long (and painful) to write. I also wish I had the pictures that were taken. 

As long as I can remember, I have always liked tying myself up, especially when wearing women’s panties and (stockings then) pantyhose. I can still recall raiding my sister’s stockings and taking them for my own pleasures. If the stocking had been worn, the aroma of the foot area only made the love of nylons better. I would often tease her about her “stinky” feet and being she was older, she would hold me down (and sometimes tie me up) and force me to smell and lick her feet. When she tied me up, she would take off her nylons and gag me with it and tie her shoe over my nose. I would feign struggling but was in heaven.

I grew up and moved away from my parents, I had my own space to play self-bondage games. I never had the courage to ever tell anyone about my bondage and fetish likes, that was until I met Ingrid. 

Ingrid was warm and loving. I remember telling her how much she turned me on when she wore pantyhose. I used to buy her Legg’s pantyhose by the dozen – suntan Sheer Energy reinforced toe. She soon learned it was more than just she in the pantyhose I liked. I hinted around and teased her about how good it must feel to be able to wear pantyhose and she took the bait by saving me her worn pantyhose and one day asking me to come over to her (parents) house and to wear a pair of pantyhose under my jeans.

I more than gladly accepted her offer. I arrived to find her dressed in her bra and panties and pantyhose. She was so beautiful and the feel of her rubbing her stocking covered legs over my body sent an electric type shock through my entire body. Being we were alone, she had me strip to just the pantyhose I was wearing. She led me to her bedroom where we cuddled and played on the bed for what seemed like an eternity. The electricity of our legs encased in pantyhose and rubbing against each other was mind-blowing. 

So far so good, so I asked her to tie me up. I told her that I wanted her to be in complete control of me for her use. She again called and asked me to dress for a day of play. When I arrived, she met me at the door in only her pantyhose and high heels. She led me to her bedroom and had me strip down to the pantyhose I was wearing. She tied my wrists behind my back and had me sit on the edge of the bed. Then she tied my knees and ankles. She produced a “well worn” pair of pantyhose and gagged me. She pushed me back on the bed and sat on my chest.

She got up and displayed a pair of high heels, which she put on my feet. (Was I in heaven or what?) She stood back and took a long look at me, her captive, and then left the room and returned with a Polaroid camera. I was apprehensive about her taking such compromising pictures, but after all, she was in charge (obviously) and we were in love so I really didn’t think anymore about it.

She started to use bondage and cross-dressing with me on a regular basis. One morning she had me dressed in a bra, panties, pantyhose and high heels and had me tied up on her bed when her dad came home for lunch. I was really scared that he would want to come into her bedroom for something. She threw all her bedding and clothes on top of me just in case and that was good thinking on her part, as he did poke his head in and asked her if she was moving out, she told him she was thinking about it and chuckled.

That Christmas I asked her to marry me and she said yes, but she wanted to complete her degree first. She was having problems at home going to school, working and trying to get along with her mom and dad. She suggested that we move in together and she moved in with me. I moved her in which gave us (me) a lot more time for bondage play.

It was great at first. I worked midnight shift, she went to school days and worked a couple evenings a week. She would call me at work and tell me to get a lot of rest when I got home, because she would be home early and wanted me ready to play. So I knew to go to bed wearing my pantyhose. It got to the point I started to wear pantyhose to bed all the time. I would drift off to sleep and sometimes wake up with her tying me up (or having me tied up already).

Well her (or should I say my) photo album was growing larger. She seemed to get turned on by my helplessness and photographing it gave her great pleasure. Soon though, I was cooking, cleaning, doing the wash, and even doing her papers/homework. She got a second job at a dentist office and she got home well after I left for work at 11:30 p.m. When I questioned her about it, she just said that she went out with the girls after they finished up at 9:00. 

It was then that the bondage play started to slow down to almost nothing, so I began to play self-bondage games by myself after she left for school. I knew when she would be home and made sure I was cleaned up and “asleep” when she got home. 

But one day she surprised me by returning home earlier than expected. What I had done was dress in pantyhose and high heels and bind my legs with rope. I wore a belt with a ring which I ran a rope from my waist to my ankles to fabricate a hogtie. I had purchased a pair of handcuffs (that she did not know about) for my wrists.  I had a pair of her worn pantyhose as a gag and then gave the key a toss into the living room. Then I snapped the cuffs behind my back and started my bondage fantasy. I drifted off to sleep on the bedroom floor. I awoke when I heard the front door. I started to wriggle toward the living room when she opened the door. Had I overslept? No she was home early and she wasn’t too happy to see me playing by myself. 

She saw the handcuffs and asked me where I got them. MMMppprrrfff was all that I could muster. Then I glanced over on the rug and she quickly looked to see the key lying there on the floor. Snatching it up, she told me I would be late for work tonight and with that she left! It gave me a lot of time to think of an apology to tell her about what I was missing from our relationship.

After that episode, she started tying me up again. The bondage started getting tighter and longer. I wasn’t complaining, but she would leave and go out for the day and come home later in the evening. She really got angry one time when I couldn’t hold my kidneys and wet the bed. After that, she would either tie me in the tub or in a chair in the bathroom or kitchen, where it was less difficult for me to clean up.

But then came the day where she tied me up and handcuffed my wrists. She made a call and her “friend” came by and helped her pack up her things and move her out. She told me that we had grown apart and that she was no longer in love with me. Imagine my humiliation and hurt that she was not only leaving me, but had invited someone in to help her move out with me dressed in pantyhose and high heels and bound and gagged on the floor. As she was leaving, she said that the photo album was her security that I would never, ever try to bother her. She said that she would expose me to everyone if I ever tried to get in contact or ask her friends about her whereabouts. 

She then took a large container out of the freezer – a container of ice (solid block) containing the handcuff key. She said that way, I would not be freeing myself too quickly and try to catch up with her. She was right – about 10 hours later, it was thawed enough to obtain the key and free myself. 

I missed her deeply, but knew she would show others the photos if I ever tried to contact her. 

I started doing self-bondage now with a reason – I no longer had someone to tie me up. It was two years before I met Marie. I knew that I wasn’t going to say anything about Ingrid or my bondage fetish too soon. We dated off and on for a year and a half. We had made love and she was a wonderful girl. I knew that I was in love with her and also knew I had to tell her about my fetish for cross-dressing for bondage.

I told her I felt very deeply for her and had something to say that she had a right to know. I said, “Marie, I like to wear pantyhose, high heels and be tied up and teased”.

She looked at me questionably and said, “I’m OK with that as long as she was the one tying and teasing.”

Had I actually found my soul mate? It seemed so and I was never happier than when she said she would marry me.

Marie was actually a pretty good bondage partner. She could tie tight, was imaginative, and enjoyed the power over me when I was helpless. I was back in heaven again. We planned our wedding and the night before she called me and told me that I better be wearing panties and pantyhose under my tux. I told her that I would.

Being a newlywed to someone like Marie was great. Sex, sex, and more sex were always on the “menu”. The bondage play was fabulous. It brought back memories of Ingrid and her “cruel mind”. Marie was even into penis bondage and nipple clamps (just like Ingrid). Marie even liked tying me up and then would go grocery shopping or visit her mother. Her mom called one evening after Marie’s visit and said she was sorry to hear I was too tied up to visit with her. “It’s just an expression” Marie would say and smile that wicked smile.

Well, to bring you up to current conditions, once we had kids, the bondage stopped. All my bondage “toys” and equipment was thrown out. When I mentioned bondage to her, she looks at me with daggers in her eyes. I tell her I wish it could be like before and she says it will never be like it was.

That’s why the title “My Life Without Bondage”. I went out and bought some new bondage “stuff” and keep it hidden. I still do self-bondage whenever I get the chance. But that doesn’t happen often enough. 

Thanks for listening.