Author Topic: Steel obsessed after all this - pt.1  (Read 1976 times)

Offline Phileas

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Steel obsessed after all this - pt.1
« on: November 20, 2019, 03:59:51 PM »
As I come home, in the spur of the moment, I pick the cardboard box from the closet. As I hear the familiar metal sound from the content inside, I can already feel something stirring in me.
It has been a while since my last adventure, and all this time a long string of jobs and commitments did take me away from my favourite pastime: self bondage.
On top of that, I’m a metal restraint enthusiast, I really like to be enclosed in metal. It seems so rigid and so unforgiving that I immediately reach an orgasmic atmosphere while being kept on the edge, and sustains my urge to come for a very long time.
So, with my mind racing to the adventure ahead, I discard my work clothes and jump into the shower, to wash away the whole week of work and frustrations. Under the water jet, I have to keep quiet, to restrain myself, not to start fingering myself to a climax just savouring the weekend ahead.

I take my time there, there is no hurry.
The plain is terribly simple, I put the key to my restraints on the living room table, I leave all the curtains open, so that everyone on the street can see them, then I move down in the basement, restrain myself and wait for tomorrow morning, at dawn, when I will dash for them, hopefully without being seen by anyone, especially none of my neighbours, is it not that simple?
I have set up a light sensor in the living room so that if it is dark lights will turn on. Partly, this is for the purpose of being discovered, partly is for safety. Can you picture me, restrained, tripping on the couch? No? Neither do I, and I do not want to. If all goes to plan, I may be hindered in moving around.
Then, after all, who would be interested in an 1.80 girl, big boobs, dark hair, chained, strolling around a dark living room? Really, no idea. Just joking.

As I leave the bathroom, dressed only with a towel, I pick up the box from my bed, taking the stairs to the basement.
No natural light over there, if not in the morning, so part of the plot consists in setting up a timer down here to turn off the lights, to remain in the dark until dawn.
Do I seem crazy to you? Yes absolutely, but this is not my first time. I’m a professional, do not worry about it. Also, being restrained in the dark do wonders to your imagination, trust me.

Then I go back to the kitchen to eat, drink, and prepare some energy drink bottles for my adventure.
After another stop in the bathroom, I pick up the beverages, check the doors and then leaving the towel behind, naked I go downstairs.
The point of no return is nearing, as I open the box and strew the contents on the large carpet that I have there.
In the basement there are a couple of little rooms that I use mainly for storage, also there is a bathroom with a walk-in shower, and all the rest of the space is occupied by a large room with a couch and a very soft carpet that covers a lot of the floor.
Usually this is very warm and cozy, because even if it is under the ground, my heater is here and is well insulated.
As I pick up the locks’ box, I remember that, following my plan, I have to put the keys on the living room table. I have a set of ten padlocks that use the same key, I open them all and prepare them on the carpet. I pick another four, open them and mix the keys. Then I run upstairs and using the curtain for cover I put them in place, before rushing down again.
My pussy is tingling with excitement.
I must confess that my planning stops here, because I’m in such a state of excitement and arousal that I have not yet decided how to secure myself.
I’m on the basement door when I decide to do something else.
I have a prescription for some relaxant pills, a doctor gave me them to help me sleep in a particular stressing time. They are not a narcotic, they are meds made from herbs, and they worked good on me in the past. I took one of them and in an hour I was ready to dream like a baby.
What if I slept in restraint? I’m amazed at my own deviousness, or at my craziness.
Nonetheless, I immediately detour to the bathroom, take a pill from my pharmacy and gulp it down with some tap water. Down to the basement, then.
As I see all my goodies disposed on the carpet, I decide that I have to wear the most that I can manage.
So I start with putting on my chastity belt, fitted with a steel dildo, just to be on the “sex” side. It slides in so much easily that it gives away how excited I am. I lock the waistband on and then I pick up the crotch between my legs. There are two chains connecting the front with the back and they rest on the sides of my ass.
As I click the front lock shut, from experience I know two things: that until I get the key, this dildo will not leave my pussy and until then, this same steel bastard will torment me without letting me reach a proper orgasm.
Next thing that I put on is a chastity bra, it has two globes completely enclosing my boobs, with a steel strap encircling my torso and four chains, two in front and two in the back that reach a collar. Both are made to measure for my body.
Once the strap and the collar are closed, there is no way I can stimulate my tits and no way I can get rid of that.
As I close the bra, another thought get to me, and I rush once again upstairs to get my phone in the basement with me, just in case.
I know that the pill will take effect soon, so I have to be quick.
As I return to the basement carpet, I proceed to put on my steel cuffs. There are three pairs of them, one for the wrists, one for my arms over the elbows and finally one for my ankles.I put them on but leave the padlocks open. I have not yet decided exactly what I want to do.
Two other items get my attention.
First my steel gag. It is a work of art. It is U shaped and in the middle of the U there is a steel thong that goes directly over my tongue. I like it a lot, it muffles any sound for my mouth, but it is shaped in a way that allows me to drink while gagged. The liquids slide on the metal thong and go directly in my throat, pushing down my tongue.
I insert and lock it behind my neck with a chain, tightening it before putting a padlock to close it, but then I had a thought and before closing it, I pass through the padlock’s ring the two final links of a meter long chain.
Then I let it dangle in the middle of my back. I have a plan, do not worry.
The second device I intend to put on me are the tight bands for the belt. If you do not know these are, they are two large cuffs linked together with a chain, and there are other longer chains on the sides. You wear them as a pair of undies and when you connect the side chains to the sides of the belt, the cuffs sit around your legs a little above the knees. And since these are connected, you can no longer spread your legs.
So I put them on and as I link them to my belt, I can feel that my legs movement is already hindered. Then I take another chain, I pass each final link thru the d-rings in my ankle cuffs, from the down up, then I cross them and then push them thru the loops in my tight bands and then close them with a padlock. In this way once I stretch my legs, my ankles are pushed closer.
I must speed up, I can feel that the pill is doing its job. I start to feel a little bit drowsy. With a hand I pick up a plaid from the couch so that I fell asleep I can cover my body. And I also take a cushion for my head to rest on.
Having arranged that, I proceed to take another little chain and feed it to a d-ring placed in the front of my waist belt. The next is the really tricky part, because I have to twist my arms behind my back to pass the chain dangling from the collar in the padlock ring before closing my elbow cuff. In this way, if it goes as I have pictured it, the chain will slide and even if my elbows are drawn back, I still will have some movement.
After the first one, I use my right hand to lock the left cuff.
As I hear the click, I immediately test this restraint. It feels tight but I get that if I move my head back I get some slack on the arms, and that is good. On the other side, pushing my head level means that my elbows are pulled together.
I still have to finish my plans, and the final part is to pass the little chain on my wrist d-ring before closing it with the final padlock. To have some slack I do this blindly, because I look at the ceiling pushing my head back. Click.
Now I feel definitely relaxed and a little doozy as I try to budge my restraint, I take comfort in its unyielding grip, finally I manage to draw the cover over me and put my head down on the cushion as the lights turn off and I quietly drift to sleep.

In my dreams, I feel an enormous sensation of helplessness. And I picture myself trussed, exactly as I am now, right in the middle of my city's main square, mincing tiny steps in the general direction of my living room table.
All eyes are on me, and the humiliation turns my cheek bright red, the same feeling turns my pussy literally on fire. I can sense the walls of my vagina pushing on the steel dildo locked inside me, trying hard to get a complete orgasm, gaining instead only a superficial arousal.
I’m in the middle of a street and someone is asking me something about my depravity, but the gag let just unintelligible mumbles leave my mouth. Drivers are clinging on their horns as I slowly pass a street.
I can not say how and in how much time, but I finally came to my road, I can see my house in the distance. Just looking in front of me, pulls my elbows behind, and the chain between my ankles limits my steps, I want to get there, but I can not win against the cuffs, as they force me to tiny steps..
Finally I reach my house, at the door, where there is an electronic key, I just have to punch four numbers in the pad and the lock opens.
As I arrive there, I realize that my hands, tied as they are, are not able to reach those fucking buttons. Just one damned fucking centimeter. As I try to stretch my legs to get there, I realize in horror that I’m stuck there, chained, stuck in front of my own house. And all my neighbours can see my own depravity, what a slut I am. In frustration I fall to my knees, and then slide down on the patio trembling in a huge orgasm, with my body spasming fighting against all the chains tied on me.

As I open my eyes, immediately realizing that I’m not on my patio floor but, as a matter of fact, on my basement carpet, I feel my body shaking off the climax aftermath. I’m still in the dark and I realize that it must be too early for the sunlight.
I sense that there are some fluids oozing on my leg and this brings me back to reality. The gag is now taxing on my tongue, but as I try to reach it with my hands, I find that the chain connecting them to my chastity belt is not much forgiving.
Wrist cuffs are anchoring them down on my belly, and the ones on the elbows are hindering any movement. Well, I shift somewhat my position, fighting against my bonds and try to return back to sleep. Later, I say to myself, I will need all this energy.

I drifted back to another dream, a version of the previous one, only this time I was in a sort of a party and there was a man that was leading me around, he had attached a leash to my collar and he pushed me in every direction he chose. I was not able to see his face, and he did not turn to talk to me, even if I’m pretty sure I would not be able to respond. The attendees to this party were all kinky in their own ways, ladies wrapped in latex, straitjackets, armbinders harnesses and whatnot.
Finally we get to a bar, and he ordered to drink for both of us. Like I was a dog, he linked the leash to a ring that was embedded in the countertop. And after he finished his drink, he went away leaving me there.
I tried to get the leash free, first pulling then trying to grab it, but the ring position was not so reachable for my hands. Still unable to reach my freedom. Maybe my subconscious is trying to tell me something.

I wake up again while some light is seeping in from the basement's tiny windows. I let my eyes adjust to the darkness and decide that this is the time to act.
I put aside my cover and then manoeuvre to get on my feet. The chain between my ankles is indeed short and this means that I first have to rotate face down on the floor. Then I have to push up my ass until I can fold my legs and then pull my back straight. Finally, I have to give a sharp movement to get myself on my own feet, maintaining some sort of equilibrium.
Oh well, that is the physics of it, in reality it takes me a dozen trials to get on my feet. Without the use of my arms to balance the push, it is really harder than I thought.
Sometimes, during these maneuvers, I find myself strewn sideways, sometimes I go head down unable to regain an equilibrium. Lucky for me, I am standing on a soft carpet.
At the end of my tribulations, I make the right movement to find myself standing upright.
Meanwhile there is more sun in the room and I can evaluate clearly the situation. If I want to make a dash, sort of, to grab the key on the table in the living room, this is the time. Else, the risk to be seen will be far too great and I will have to wait for tomorrow.
This would mean spending another full day in chains, not sure if I want this, but then I feel something like an arousal in me. Again, I start to daydream my fantastic ruse of the “trapped princess left to her own devices”. With all my will power I snap out of it and pick up a bottle to drink.
I then realize that my hands are useless for this and the only way in which I can sip some juice is to open the bottle, put that on the tea table and then crouch to insert the cap in my mouth, and while keeping it tight between my lips and the gag, slowly tilt my head backwards to let it flow in my throat.
It takes more than I thought, but I manage to empty a bottle of energy drink. As I leave that on the table, I finally move towards the stairs.
Simply walking the few steps needed to get there, makes me understand the severity of my situation. I can take very tiny steps, and looking down, I immediately realize why.
When I put the chain through the ankle cuffs, I thought that I just made a cross from the right ankle to the left knee and vice versa. The chain should be free enough to move freely and accommodate my movements.
In the heat of the moment, instead, I must have crossed the two ends of the chain multiple times so that at my calves’ height the two seem all fused together.
And as I approach the first step the full gravity of my mistake definitely sinks in.
This restriction to my feet lets me shuffle a little but enough to move in any direction on the floor, but as I try to pick up my left foot to climb on the first step, the chains block my feet on the ground. I can barely pick it up a couple of centimeters, not enough for the steps.
This is horrible, how can I climb the stairs?
Between fear and anxiety, I try frantically to analyze the situation. I could sit on the steps and making them one at a time bouncing with my butt, but then I’d have to return on my feet over there.
And actually I would not have access to a bathroom, which I have in the basement, and it would be difficult for me to get something to drink, while here I have some to sustain, at least for the time being.
Once I had finished to consider my options, sunlight has gone up and now it would be very difficult to make it to the key without being spotted.
I return on the couch and sit there. The situation is fearsome yet somewhat arousing, I close my eyes and I imagine myself as an expert escapologist that has made a bet, if she will not be able to free herself before her lover’s arrival she will be his sexual slave for a whole week.
I’m so charged that just this thought makes me pant behind the gag. I quickly mount an orgasm, and I come panting heavily. For a very little time, I forget the situation I’m stuck in.
Ok, stop it. Getting hold of my senses, I try thinking on a plan. If I still do not want to be seen, the sensible thing would be to wait for tomorrow morning. If I’m beyond caring desperate, I can butt climb the stairs and then try to get up in the middle of the living room, hoping that someone is not walking in front of my own windows while I perform this difficult feat.
My phone is at my side, I could call the fire department and become newspaper material, not counting they have to force the door to get here. Or I could message my mother, living on the other side of the town, that unfortunately does not know of my kinkyness, ignorance that I really like to maintain.
To kill some time, I pick up the phone and I see some personal messages from some of the forums I subscribed. I start to respond, a couple of them are the classic "send nudes" weirdos, but there are some friends that I made online during the years.
Well, friends is such a big word, the best would probably be acquaintances. I get into a back and forth with "Smith89". In the post he wrote a comment on one of my posts on steel bondage. We have chit chatted in the past, and I know that one of my real friends, Sarah, who is an admin on this same forum, knows him for real.
Then, just for fun, I start writing a post describing the predicament I'm in.
I inch through the story, tapping on my phone, and when I come at the end, I stop my recount just before the stair incompatibility discovery.
After some polishing, I hit the Post button, wondering if someone is going to read the thing.
Time passes and I proceed to drink another bottle of juice, then I venture to the bathroom to relieve myself. With some twists and turns, I find a way to clean my business and return to the couch.
An alert is waiting for me on my phone screen. Smith89.
"I really dig your story. There is just a detail that bugs me. How is it possible to climb the stairs with the feet trussed this way? It seems to me that your princess should have a very tough time gaining the push to step up. But I could be wrong."
Oh, my god. He had read my story and imagined the whole situation, and he found my problem.
Amazed, I write him a personal note. "You are right, that is exactly the problem."
As I send it, realize that this sounds too much like an admission. Maybe I have made a mistake.
Immediately, I reach out to Sarah, asking her news on Smith89.
She texts me saying that his real name is Thomas, he has a metal workshop, hence the nick, and he is an extremely fine gentleman. She quips: "Do you have your sights on him?"
I shot back: "Maybe."
"Way to go, girl."
A little light of hope is sparking in my mind, but there are a lot of variables that I have to keep in mind.
As I am dealing with this information, another alert beeps on my phone. It is him.
“What do you mean?”
Sometimes, to my own amazement, I act very impulsive. And before thinking it through, I send him a picture of my chained feet from the knees down..
What the hell have I done?


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