Sting

Once again, its self bondage cross dress jeopardy time, with a dose of humiliation.

I string a long rope across the width of my wide double garage, about 15 metres wide, the top pulled tight at about waist height with the ends tied up tight and out of reach at each end.   At one end, the end of the rope is slightly higher, you'll see why in a minute.

At the far end, I tie a set of handcuff keys to a rafter, having them dangle down to just about waist height.  They are tied with cord and the rope well knotted over and over.  Again, you'll see why in a minute.

Along the rope I tie on freshly picked stinging nettles.  A bunch about the size of a large bouquet of flowers every 50cm, which means there are about 30 bunches along the rope.  They're tied securely and not coming off.

Right at the end, where the rope rises, I tie off the rest of the nettles, maybe 4 or 5 bouquet sizes in massive leafy cluster.

I wonder if you can see my plan now?

The plan is to lock myself up so I have to walk straddling the nettle clad rope with totally vulnerable lower half to get to the keys at the other end.

To matters more interesting (as if they're already no interesting enough), the garage door opens with a remote - I place a simple mechanism over the remote - a bottle of water suspended up high from a rafter connected to a weight over a small pulley.  The weight hangs over the garage remote control fob on the workbench.  If the weight were to drop, it would hit the button and open the garage door.

I tap a small hole into the bottle and run a thin tube out about 10 cm and place a bucket under it.  I clamp the tube over with a clothes peg and run a long piece of cord out from it.

Once the peg is unclipped, the water will drip out over a period of about 5 minutes, then the weight will slowly drop until it opens the garage door and exposes me to the street if I'm not free of the cuffs in time.

I have a pair of handcuffs, some leg irons, some chain and padlocks and, of course, some clothes to hand.

I strip off, apply nipple clamps and give them a good hard twist tight, pop the push up bra on for good measure and then dress in my short blue PVC alice dress (again) - complete with flouncy petticoats.   I zip it up and lock to the pink leather collar as per previous adventures.  The dress is not coming off until I get to those padlock keys, which incidentally are outside in the garden.

I wear no underwear this time though!  See my plan?

I strap on some very high heels, which brings the rope to just about crotch height. I won't be able to remove them unless I unto the ankle straps.

I straddle the rope which is still pretty high despite the heels and comes up under my balls, reach down and lock on the leg cuffs.  I'm effectively committed at this point as I can't get off the nettled rope, which is tied off well out of reach, and the keys are tied up at the other end.  Although I really can't get out,  I'm just not vulnerable enough.  With hands, I could untie the nettles to stop them stinging me, stop the garage remote, and do all sorts of things to back out of this game.

But as you know, I'm not a backing out of things person.  I crave this humiliation and it's going to happen.

I lock the chain tight around my waist, padlocking the handcuffs to the chain.  I tie the cord that leads to the clothes peg on the bottle to a link in the front of the chain around my waist. It's round the front so I won't be able to untie it with my hands cuffed behind.  When I start walking down the rope, it'll pull the clip away and start the drip timer.

I can hardly believe I'm doing this, but I bring the cuffs together behind me and with 2 sets of ratchety clicks - it's done, I'm locked in and going nowhere until I get to the other end of the garage,, knowing that as soon as I move, the timer starts and I have no choice but to get going and face the nettles which will savage my inner thighs, bottom, balls and that whole area.

I stand there in limbo, knowing I have to do this.  I inch forward, the first nettles just in front of me - they're the nastiest stingy ones I could find too.  As I move, the cord tightens and I know this will be it.

One more step and 'clack' - the peg comes off the tube and I have only a few minutes to do this.  I'm moving slowly on my high heels - the rope wedged under me - my erect cock and balls leading the way.  I twist, but it makes no difference - I have to cross the nettles.  It's awful - a thousand tiny barbs jab into my balls and inner thighs, arsehole and all over my bottom.

OMG I should have tested this a little first - it's very painful.  I inch over the first bunch of nettles and shuffle in my stilettos to the next one, only a few steps away.  Time is ticking and I'm going to need most of it to untie the cuff key at the far end.

I have to carry on - another bunch  - oh man, it stings, my poor cock and balls are on fire!  The nettles penetrate my exposed lower half and my hands are helplessly locked away at my waist.  I try to reach down, but it's not helping - if anything it forces more of the nettles into my exposed genitals and bottom.

Further and further down the rope, more stings - it's unbearable, I'm on fire - but I have no choice - I must get to the end.  My feet are on fire from the high heels too.

At last, the final bunch.  The rope rises slightly and it wedges hard under my bottom and though my crack.  I have to stand right over the massive bunch, which is arranged up a few feet over the rope and dangles down to the floor, in order to get the keys.  I glance back to the timer before making the final move and see the weight is dropping low already.  Holy crap!

I push forward into the final bunch, which stings me everywhere - ankles, knees, inner thighs, all over my exposed arsehole, bottom, cock and balls and also starts brushing up into my waistline and up under the petticoat.  Fuck!

I grab the dangling key, which is just too high up to be able to use without untying it from the cord and start working the knots. I'd knotted the crap out of the thing and each one takes agonising seconds.  I'm looking back all the time to the timer device whilst I am working my hands - it's getting perilously close the garage remote fob, maybe only 1 or 2 cm to go.  I work faster, but the key is still tied on.

At last, it comes loose and I pop the handcuffs open.  I'm still standing in the huge nettle bunch, so I shuffle away, my whole lower half on fire so I can get to the leg cuffs.  I get one and then hear a clunk.  The door starts to rise with a whirr.  The garage lights are on and it's daylight outside, so I need to be really quick!  I unstraddle the rope and run, the leg cuffs still attached, to the remote.  By the time I get there - it's only 15 metres away - the door is more than half open and I'm in serious danger of someone seeing me.    I prod the remote and the door stops.  There are agonising seconds before it will lower again.  Then I'm safe.

Did anyone see me?  OMG!

My entire lower half is on fire, especially my poor inner thighs and balls.   I reach down and unlock the other leg cuff.  I pull up the puffy skirts and look down for the first time - I'm covered in welts and weals from the nettles.  Its still burning and I don't know how long it's going to last.  Theres not much I can do about it though!  

What next?  I am tempted by another go on the rope, but the nettles are looking a little sorry for themselves, and besides, I know I can do it now, so it's not so much fun.

I have an idea though - I grab a pair of thick plastic pants and the locking frilly plastic lined knickers - I pull on my gardening gloves and stuff the thick pants full of nettles - as much as I can get in there. They are quite tight fitting, so this will be fun.

I quickly put them on - my arse is once again on fire - the nettles pricking into all the soft flesh it can find.  I pull up the locking knickers and click the padlock shut.  They're not coming off without the keys which are in the garden along with the keys to my collar, chain and dress.

Every step is now torture.  I wish I'd called it a day, but it would have been a shame to waste the nettles.

I still have the handcuffs dangling from the chain at my waist.   I reattach the leg cuffs so I can't put any clothes on to cover my dress and get outside sooner.  I shuffle painfully out of the garage and to the back door, the plastic pants full of nettles torturing me at every move.

I toss the handcuff keys into the garden, effectively trapping me until it gets dark in several hours time.

I click the handcuffs back over my wrists behind my back and settle in to the horrible discomfort of the remaining daylight hours until I get into the garden and get myself free.   I can't even sit down, so this is going to be horrible!

I curse myself - I'm a nasty vindictive self bondage mistress sometimes.