Jane stood in the bedroom and studied herself in the full length mirror. The reflection showed a tall, young woman. She was slim, although Jane would have called herself skinny and her breasts were virtually non existent. To her, they looked more like enlarged nipples, than the voluptuous breasts that better looking females could push out and exhibit to the world. Her hair was blonde but the cut was short, straight and practical. The skin was smooth and unblemished but there was no doubt that she was, as her name implied, a 'Plain Jane'. She sighed and turned away from her mirror image, to a number of articles that were laid out on the bed.
Among the various items were some lengths of rope and she picked one up, sat down on the edge of the bed, bent over and began to slowly and carefully bind her ankles together. Because she was doing it herself, she knew her own limits and could wrap the rope around her ankles quite tightly, making neat turns, one above the other and then, taking the rope between her legs and round, between her feet, she pulled the encircling rope up in a cinch. She knotted the ends of the rope in the front so that it would at least be far more difficult for her prying fingers to reach, when her hands were secured behind her back. Taking a short length of chain and threaded that too, between her legs and around her feet, over the rope that secured her ankles. The chain was padlocked together, to form a short loop, allowing an inch or so of slack. This would be useful later on.
Another length of rope went around her legs, just above the knees and this too was cinched, with the knot carefully tied in front and this was duplicated, by tying another rope just below the knees and finishing off in the same manner. She tried bending her legs and although the ropes were tight and most certainly would not slip, they allowed her legs to bend, if somewhat stiffly.
Picking up a reasonably large foam sponge from the collection of items, she started to work the soft material into her mouth. It looked far too large to fill such a small area but her fingers pushed and squashed the foam into each side of her mouth, puffing out her cheeks, then filling the central part of her mouth, holding down her tongue and packing the mouth out to capacity. With the sponge pushed completely inside, she worked her jaws a little, settling the foam sponge into place and making it reasonably comfortable. She did not expect it to be actually comfortable but she did not want to choke or even for it to make her cough, with her mouth packed out like that. She tried to swallow and found that she could manage with some difficulty and at least, unlike a rubber ball gag, the sponge absorbed the saliva and she would not have the problem of dribbling. A leather strap went around her head, over the sponge and between her teeth and then buckled up at the back and pulled up tight. This forced the sponge further back into her mouth, making sure that the filling would stay in place. Knowing from past experience that she could, perhaps with some difficulty, work the foam sponge out, past the leather strap if she were given time, she took a roll of elasticated bandage and wound the wide, stretchy material round and round the lower half of her face, pulling each turn up tight, squashing her face a little but securely trapping the foam inside her mouth. It would not be pushed out now. The slight distortion of her face caused her to breathe a little harder through her nose than she would normally have done, to enable her to draw in sufficient quantities of air. She paused, to make quite sure that her intake of air was not too restricted. The air, being drawn in and out through her nose was audible but it would not trouble her.
Next, she picked up a wide leather belt and, forming it into a long loop, flipped it over her head and down her back, so that when she buckled the strap together at the front and just below her chest, it went around her body and her upper arms, above the elbows. The strap was pulled up as tight as she could pull it and her nimble fingers fastened the buckle.
Now she knelt up, in the centre of the bed, picked up a pair of handcuffs and turned round as best she could, to thread the handcuffs through the loop of chain at her ankles. Jane looked across the room, to the small stool, upon which the keys to the handcuffs lay. Now she was ready to complete her bondage.
Glancing down at the handcuffs, she made sure that the keyholes on both 'cuffs were facing towards her fingers, so that she would be able to fit the key in when she wanted to, then placed the first 'cuff around her right wrist and clicked it shut, making quite sure that it was not too tight. It would not do to have the handcuffs so tight that they cut off the circulation to her hands, so that she was not able to operate the key. Making sure that the 'cuff for her other wrist was facing the right way, she placed it around her wrist but before clicking it shut, she took a deep breath and thought for a moment. Thought of what she was about to do.
She realised that it was silly to put herself into bondage, when she was relying entirely on her own resources to set herself free but it was also very, very exciting. She could feel her heart thumping and the feeling of arousal deep inside her was almost unbearable. Jane knew that her fanny was running wet and hot. Should she abandon the idea of self bondage and simply masturbate herself? That would be so good, so exciting and so satisfying but if she did, then it would all be over in a few minutes and she was so horny, that to simply put a finger or a vibrator to her fanny at this moment, would be sufficient to achieve orgasm. After all this preparation and anticipation, that would almost be an anti-climax. She had been looking forward all week to spending several hours in bondage, this was to be the day and this is what she must do.
Without allowing herself any more time to consider what she should do, her fingers closed over the chrome metal handcuff and, with a click, the job was done. She was in bondage and until she reached that key on the other side of the room and released those bands of steel around her wrists, she was as helpless as if someone else had put her into bondage. She was bound hand and foot, hog-tied and efficiently gagged.
Kneeling on the bed, she tested her bonds, to see if she could wriggle free but there was no escape. The only way out of it was to crawl across the room to that little key and to do that, she would have to get off the bed, a daunting task in itself, with her hands held close to her feet in a hog-tie.
She had decided to spend the afternoon in bondage, for a minimum of at least three hours and in that case, she could hardly stay kneeling all the time. She wanted to lie down and tried to put her hand out, to prevent herself from falling, then realised that this was not possible. She was in bondage. The only way to lie down was to let herself fall over and, plucking up the courage, she flopped heavily over on her side. With a short wriggle, she was central in the bed and reasonably comfortable. The ideal thing would be to get some sleep. It was always exciting to fall off to sleep while in bondage, then wake up with a start, wondering where you were and why you couldn't speak or move.
'Calm down', she told herself. Relax. Enjoy the experience. She regulated her breathing, forced herself to relax and the horny feeling came back, stronger than ever. She tried to shut out the feeling by listening to the distant sounds of people, as they passed by in the street outside. To think that they were going about their mundane, every day business. Just ordinary people doing ordinary things, while she lay there, naked, bound and gagged. If she tried to call out, no-one would hear. She was gagged and her cries would be reduced to a muffled murmur. It was exciting to be different, to be in bondage so near to those dull, ordinary people and none of them realising that she was there. She struggled a little, pretending to try and get free but not really wanting to, even if she could. Lifting her head, she tried to sit up but found that she could not. She tried to turn over but struggled even to do that. Bringing her knees up tight to her chest in a foetal position, she squeezed her legs tightly together, then struggled to try and get over on to her face. She knew that it was a hopeless task but the action of struggling excited her, made her so very, very horny. Struggle and squeeze. Turn over. Lift the head and strain. Fight against the gag.
It was coming, the hot, exciting feeling was deep down inside her and building, as if a dormant volcano had at last decided to erupt. The hot, fiery smoulderings deep inside were pushing to the surface, longing for someone or something to touch her fanny, to touch the trigger, to set the fiery molten lava free.
Squeeze the legs, struggle and then, with the twinge of some remote nerve and a hot, flooding surge, she climaxed and shuddered, trying to gasp through the gag but only able to give out a muffled, satisfied groan. She sank back onto the bed, relaxing and trying to stretch her body, as a cat would after a satisfactory sleep but the hog-tie would not let her. 'What a wonderful but terrible feeling that is,' she said to herself. "There is only one thing that would improve it and that is for someone else to tie me up and trigger that volcano for me.' She sighed, knowing that it was most unlikely to happen but it was nice to dream. She felt comfortable and satisfied. Her eyes closed, she relaxed and her breathing became deep and regular. She was asleep.
Jane woke with a start, not realising where she was or why, when she tried to yawn, she couldn't. It was only a second or so before she realised where she was and why she was so helpless but it still came as a surprise to her; a surprise that she had managed to go to sleep so easily and a surprise that, when she looked at the clock, she had slept for over two hours. Perhaps she was more tired than she had thought. Whatever the reason, it felt good, a warm, cosy feeling and she could not make up her mind whether or not to get up or simply stay where she was and try to get some more sleep. Perhaps it would be better to get up. She was thirsty and she could always put herself back into bondage if she felt like it.
Worming her way to the edge of the bed, nearest to the stool upon which the key to her handcuffs lay, she worked her legs over the side of the bed until they suddenly swung down and her knees bumped down and were resting on the floor. From this kneeling position, she managed to push the upper part of her body upright by pressing her head hard down on the bed, then pushing up. Having achieved an upright kneeling position, she worked her knees round, a tiny fraction at a time, until she was facing away from the bed and towards her target, the stool.
There was just sufficient slack in the ropes around her knees to allow her to move forward, very, very slowly but then, provided she was actually making progress, she was in no particular hurry. Even this small but continuous effort made her breathe more heavily and she drew in deeply through her nose. The additional effort started to make her feel excited once more and her breathing became even heavier, not so much through the exertion but mainly due to her excitement.
She reached the stool, turned her restricted body round and reached out, as well as she could to grasp the key, then, having the precious key in her hand, she continued her 'walk' to approach the full length mirror, set in her wardrobe.
As she came into line with the mirror and progressed slowly towards it, she studied herself and the sight of the bound and gagged figure, struggling and at the moment helpless, added to her excitement. She could not be certain that she would reach the mirror before she climaxed again but she kept going and worked herself close up to the mirror without collapsing in a frenzy of orgasm.
Facing the mirror and pushing her hands to one side, as much as possible, so that she could see the reflection of the handcuffs, she aimed the key for one of the keyholes and after some trial and error, the key went into the slot and was turned. With a click, the chrome steel 'cuff sprung open. One second she was helpless and in bondage, the next she was free again and able to choose what she wanted to do. She was so excited, so horny, that she was seriously tempted to snap the handcuff over her wrist again and struggle on the floor to a climax but she decided that this time she would resist the temptation. She was amused by her self control but knew that even if she didn't satisfy herself right now by masturbating or using a vibrator, she would probably do something about it when she went to bed that night.
Removing her bondage, she carefully packed everything away, then showered and prepared herself a meal, thinking about the pleasant afternoon she had spent and the wonderful feeling it gave her. Then she thought about tomorrow and the interview she had arranged, in the hopes of securing a new job. Perhaps she had better forget about reaching any more climaxes for today, or she would be so tired, she would not be able to concentrate on the interview. The thought of her recent bondage and the prospects of bringing herself to another climax, started to make her feel excited again. 'I expect I'll manage somehow,' she thought to herself with a quiet smile.