A Few Short Tales of Trapped Females

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Tracy-Janine's Finest Hour

(One of my earliest attempts at bondage writing)

One of the golden rules of self bondage, is to make certain that you have a means of escape.

This is an account of one young merinthophile who doesn’t play by the rules!


Tracy-Janine had been looking forward to getting home from work that Friday evening. She had been in a state of barely concealed excitement all day about what she was going to do this weekend, and she was sure that it had affected her work; her concentration levels being extremely poor this particular day. In fact, this state of intensity had been building up steadily all week, with the thought of what she had planned sending ever greater shivers of excited anticipation up her spine. Today, however, the tension had become unbearable, and as her expectations heightened, so the time seemed to slow down to a snail’s pace; the minutes seeming like hours and the hours passing like days.

Finally, though, it was time to leave off. Tracy-Janine, who would normally have stayed to chat with her work colleagues, or even go out for a drink with some of them after work, today made her excuses and left promptly at four thirty. She was going away for the weekend, she told them, to visit her sister who lived more than two hundred miles away. This was untrue, of course, as she would be staying in her house the whole weekend, but it explained her need for a hurried departure from the office. It also let her work colleagues know that that there would be no good reason to phone or call round that weekend.

It was not only her friends at work that had been given this explanation for her absence from any planned social events. Her friends outside work had been given exactly the same story. The only people who had been given a different story as to her plans for the weekend were her sister and her mother, both of whom were led to believe that she was going camping with friends from Friday evening until Monday. They, too, would have no reason to worry if she failed to answer her phone.

Thus her plans to avoid contact with another human being for the next two days were formed. From the time she entered her two bedroom house at around five o’clock that Friday evening, and locked and chained the front door behind her, Tracy-Janine’s plan was to stay put within the confining walls of her sanctuary. It was late spring, and the weather was beginning to warm up with the approach of summer, but Tracy-Janine couldn’t open any windows this weekend, as she had to keep up the appearance that the house was unoccupied. Instead of letting in the light breeze that would have helped to freshen up the place and remove the stuffiness from her home, she went round ensuring that all the windows were closed and locked, and that all the curtains and blinds remained drawn shut. With the answering machine left on to take any incoming calls, she was almost ready to begin.

Having satisfied herself that nobody could get, or even see, into her abode, Tracy-Janine began to get herself ready for her special weekend. The barely suppressed excitement that had been building in her by the hour was now reaching such a pitch that she realised that she was shivering with pleasure. Getting undressed, she made sure that she wouldn’t be needing the toilet for the next few hours, before slipping into the outfit that she would be wearing tonight. Her forward planning had been such that she had made sure that she hadn’t drunk or eaten too much today, as taking a comfort break during the night would not be possible. Having ensured that she was comfortable in this regard, she could get on with the matter in hand.

Tracy-Janine’s attire for the night was simple. A pair of black tights and a spandex cat-suit, also black in colour. Slipping the tights on in front of the bedroom mirror, she smoothed them down over her long, shapely legs, before easing the cat-suit on over them. Placing her feet in the foot stirrups, the figure hugging stretch material rode easily up her legs over the 20 denier silky smooth tights with a faint swishing sound, and she quickly pulled the rest of the suit up over her torso before inserting her arms into the sleeves. With her arms now incased in their second skin, she pulled the suit up to her neck and deftly reached around to zip the back up. This being accomplished, she smoothed out any wrinkles; not that there were many, as the suit hugged her every curve and accentuated her shapely legs, hips and breasts.

For a minute or more, Tracy-Janine stared at herself in the mirror, running her hands over her body and thighs. She loved tight fitting clothes and being encased from neck to ankle in spandex was the best feeling of all. Apart from the look and feel, however, there was a practical purpose to being in skintight clothing, as baggy or loose fitting garments tended to get in the way of what she had planned tonight.

Now dressed to her satisfaction, Tracy-Janine made her way downstairs to the small safe that sat on the shelf in her living room. The door of the safe was open slightly, and Tracy-Janine opened it wider to look inside in order to check that what she was expecting to see was in place. The safe was empty save for one small key on a key-ring, which lay in the centre of the box. With fingers trembling with excitement, Tracy-Janine picked the key up and examined it. Yes, this was definitely the right key. In truth, she knew this to be the case already, but with the dangers involved in what she was about to undertake she had to make doubly sure, as there was no margin for error. Satisfied, she replaced the key in its original position and closed the safe door. As she turned the handle anti-clockwise, Tracy-Janine heard a faint click, and the handle would turn no more in either direction. The safe had cost her a lot of money, but it had been worth every penny. It was not, however, for the more usual purpose of keeping valuables such as jewelry and money secure from any would-be thief that Tracy-Janine had acquired the heavy box. No, the reason she had purchased this particular style of safe was that it had, as its release mechanism, a timer. With the door closed, neither Tracy-Janine, nor anyone else, could open the door until the time that she had preset it to. The digital display on the front of the safe showed that the time was now 5:24pm. Although there was no way of telling from looking at it, Tracy-Janine knew that the safe could not be opened again until midday, almost eighteen and a half hours in the future.

Tracy-Janine closed the living room door and made her way back upstairs and into the spare room, closing and locking the door behind her and taking the key from the lock. This room, the smaller bedroom, was sparsely furnished. In fact, the only furniture in the room was a stout upright wooden chair, with sturdy wooden vertical struts making up the back, plus a small table with castors positioned beside it. On the floor beside the chair was a large hold-all bag. Sitting down on the chair, Tracy-Janine unzipped the main pocket of the bag and casually flung the key to the door inside. She watched as it hit the top item, before sliding from view into the depths of the bag.

Now Tracy-Janine began laying some of the contents out onto the floor beside her; lining them up in the order that they would be needed. Planning was everything in this situation, and she had run through the order of events many times in her mind during the past few days, and had even had a sort of “dry run” last night, to make sure that she wouldn’t waste time tonight by getting things out of sequence. When she was satisfied she had everything she needed, she zipped the bag up again, and took it to a far corner of the room. Although a great deal of her equipment now lay spread across the floor, there still remained many other similar items within the bag.

Tracy-Janine returned to the chair and picked up the first item; a coil of soft white rope. She undid the loose knot that held the coil in place, and unrolled it to reveal that it was around 15 feet in length. Holding both ends together, she found the mid-point and, placing her legs together side by side, wound the double cord around her ankles and looped it through the mid section of the rope, before pulling the noose tight. Encircling her ankles in the rope several more times, pulling each loop as tight as possible, she finally cinched the rope between her ankles and knotted it securely at the front. She winced slightly as she tested this first bond, which was a sure sign that the rope was as tight as she needed it to be. She now repeated the exact same procedure again with a second length of rope, only this piece wound its way higher up on her spandex clad legs, just below the knees. A third bond followed immediately above the knees, then a fourth around her upper thighs; all tied off tightly at the front with secure knots that wouldn’t loosen of their own accord, no matter how much she pulled, strained and struggled. By the time she came to tie the fourth bond, her legs were so inseparable that she had great difficulty in cinching the rope, as the gap available to pull the rope through was all but non-existent. She finally managed to secure the knot to her satisfaction, however. Quickly now, she coiled a length of rope around her waist several times, before tying this off on her stomach. Another shorter length of rope was now attached to the front of this latest addition to her bonds, pulled through her legs just below the thigh bond (again with some difficulty), pulled up her back and around the back of the waist rope, then down again to make the reverse journey back through her legs to its starting point on her stomach, at which point it was pulled tight and secured. This bond not only acted as a crotch rope, but ensured also the thigh bond wouldn’t slip down her legs. She smiled to herself. This was going to be a great weekend. With a triumphant sigh, she got to her feet and hopped a few paces around the room, then sat back down on the chair and experimented by trying to wriggle her legs out of the coils that held them in check. The bonds, however, refused to yield, which was exactly as Tracy-Janine had planned. If anything, they seemed to tighten further with every movement.

Tracy-Janine now moved all the remaining items from the floor to the small table beside the chair. This was necessary as, after her next planned action, it would be impossible for her to reach the floor again. Sitting on the chair, she leant forward and, taking another length of rope, she looped this around the cinch of her already bound ankles and pulled this tight. Holding on to the loose ends, she sat up straight and pulled the rope up around the back of the seat of the chair, one end on either side; pulling her legs up as high as she could under the chair. She then looped this rope around the tops of her thighs twice, encompassing the seat of the chair within the noose, finally securing the ends to the uppermost of her four leg bonds. Once more she tested her handiwork, and found that she had done an excellent job; her feet now suspended helplessly beneath the seat of the chair and unable to touch the floor.

More ropes soon followed, each designed to secure her torso to the chair back, until she was enmeshed in a melee of tight bonds. Finding the middle of the longest length of rope she had yet used, Tracy-Janine placed this at the back of her neck and allowed the ends to fall either side of her. She then pulled these under her armpits, crossed them behind her back and brought the ends around to her chest on either side, encompassing two of the innermost vertical struts on the back of the chair within the coil. She now wound the rope tightly across her front, just below her breasts, before repeating this encircling action three more times; the next two coils just above her breasts, the final one once again below. Pulling the rope as taut as she could, she secured the ends with a double knot between her breasts, which now stood prominently beneath the tight spandex due to the constriction immediately above and below them.

Tracy-Janine was now down to the last length of rope on the small table. This she wrapped around her waist, on top of the rope that had earlier been used to anchor her crotch rope. This final rope, however, encompassed the struts at the back of the chair as well, like the breast rope above. As with all the ropes that now restrained her, this latest narrow band of white rope, contrasting sharply with the black of her cat-suit, was also secured at the front.

The pair of sturdy metal handcuffs clinked playfully as Tracy-Janine picked them up off the table. She examined them momentarily and smiled as she contemplated the implications of shutting them around her wrists. Reaching around to the back of the chair, she found the mid-point of the latest rope around her waist and deftly threaded one of the bracelets through the loop. Letting go of them, the cuffs now hung loosely at the seat of the chair. Her bondage was now almost complete.

There were five final items still on the table beside her, however. The first of these, a pair of tights that she had rolled up into a ball, Tracy-Janine now pushed into her mouth until she had it comfortably in place behind her teeth. Next she took the roll of thick, grey duct tape and, sticking the loose end over her mouth, she began to wrap the tape around her lower face and head; ensuring that she lifted her long blonde hair out of the way as she did so. Seven times she encircled her neck and lower head, stopping every few inches to smooth the tape down. With each pass over her mouth, Tracy-Janine made sure that the tape was slightly higher or lower than its predecessor, so that by the time she was satisfied with her efforts, her entire lower face was covered, from just below the nose to under her chin. Tearing the tape off from the reel, she smoothed the end down over her now sealed mouth and tossed the reel into the corner of the room. Tracy-Janine tested the gag by attempting to push the rolled up tights forward with her tongue. As she already knew, this action proved futile, as her mouth was sealed shut with the tape that had bonded fast to her skin. Her attempt at a mock scream also proved satisfactory, as she was able to make only a tiny fraction of the sound that would have been possible under normal circumstances.

Tracy-Janine placed the three last items on her lap before pushing the table away from her. The castors allowed it to roll the few feet to the wall, leaving Tracy-Janine and the chair all alone in the centre of the room. She now took the black silk scarf and placed it over her eyes, before expertly winding it around her head and securing it with a tight knot. She then checked that it covered her eyes completely and wouldn’t slip, before feeling on her lap for the crowning glory; a black spandex hood which she pulled down over her head, ensuring as she did so that the blindfold didn’t become dislodged. The hood reached down over her neck to the top of her cat-suit, so that the only parts of her anatomy that were now not enveloped in tight black clothing were her hands. This omission was soon rectified, however, with the pulling on of the final item now resting on her lap; a pair of elbow length spandex mittens. Having no separate fingers, the second mitten was less easy than the first to slip on, especially when the task had to be completed in total darkness. Tracy-Janine had had plenty of practice in this regard though, and soon had her hands encased within the skin-tight gloves.

Now all that remained to be done was for the final piece of the jigsaw to be locked into place. Reaching around to the back of the chair, Tracy-Janine found one of the open bracelets of the handcuffs with her left hand and placed her wrist onto the curved metal surface. She used her right hand to push the arm down gently over the wrist, until the soft metallic ‘click, click’ reached her ears. She counted off the sounds, until she reached seven, then gently pulled on the now closed circle of steel; finding, as she knew she would, that no amount of straining and pulling would ever allow her to extricate her wrist from its unyielding grip. Taking a deep breathe through her nose, Tracy-Janine now fumbled to get her right hand into the adjoining manacle. It took a few attempts, as her left hand was in no position now to return the favour that its partner had granted it a few seconds ago. Eventually she succeeded in closing the circle, and the first faint click was heard. Tracy-Janine paused, her heart racing. For a split second she considered going no further. But this indecision was only for a micro-second, and at the second click she knew that this was what she had been waiting for all week…if not her whole life. At the third click, Tracy-Janine knew that she could, with only a little struggle, still pull her hand out through the ring of steel. With the fourth, she realised that, whilst not impossible, wrenching her hand out would be a tight squeeze and probably quite painful. The fifth click was, therefore, the point of no return. There could be no going back now. Having achieved this milestone, the sixth and seventh clicks followed in quick succession, increasing the caress of steel around her now inescapably shackled wrists.

Tracy-Janine’s bondage was now complete. The only way out of the handcuffs was with the key, which was downstairs in the time-locked safe. And the only way she could get downstairs was to free herself from the ropes; ropes which she’d so diligently ensured would hold her tightly to the chair, secured with knots that she had been extra careful to make certain were situated where her grasping, stretching, but mitten encased fingers couldn’t reach. How long would it take to free herself from the ropes? In truth, Tracy-Janine wasn’t even certain that she could escape from the severe bonds she’d encumbered herself with. But that was all part of the plan. If tying another person up was a means to rendering them helpless and unable to move from the place you left them, surely then self-bondage must have similar aims. At least that was the philosophy in Tracy-Janine’s world. There would be no point in binding herself up if she knew for certain that she could get free as and when she pleased. Where was the thrill in that? The danger, the risks, and the knowledge that you might just have gone too far this time were what made her predicament all the more exciting.

Tracy-Janine tested her bonds with a few jerks, pulls and stretches against the ropes that held her body and legs in check. She could hardly move. She’d tied herself to perfection. In fact, she doubted whether, if a third party had done the tying instead of her, that this imaginary person would have been capable of doing a better job of keeping her prisoner on this chair. It would, she knew, take a monumental effort to free herself from the ropes, find the key to the door in total blindness, open the door, get downstairs and locate the handcuff key. But worrying about details like this could wait for now. It had taken a long while and quite some effort to tie herself up, and she wasn’t about to undo all her good work straight away. In fact, Tracy-Janine planned to luxuriate in her bonds for most of the night before even beginning to contemplate her first step on the road to freedom. The key to the cuffs wouldn’t be available until midday tomorrow, so where was the rush?

Tracy-Janine spent the next few hours doing everything she could to heighten the pleasure that being so utterly helpless brought on. The feel of her tight spandex attire; the inability to move her limbs or her body, the thrill as she tried to pull one ankle away from the other; the futility as her spandex ensheathed fingers tried to reach knots that were well beyond her grasp; the tight rope that dug into her crotch even through the cat-suit; all conspired to send shivers of excitement through her entire being. Of course at this stage she had no wish to free herself, so her struggles were merely in play and therefore none too vigorous. In fact, if she had managed to loosen even a single one of her bonds by even a fraction at this stage, then she would have been most annoyed with herself. She had been practicing self bondage for years, but never before had she been so totally trapped as she was now. This was the apex, the zenith of everything she’d been working towards, and quite simply she didn’t want it to end. She knew at some point in the future she would feel differently, but the way she felt at the moment, she could happily have remained this way for days.

At some point, having wriggled and writhed, although without any great conviction, for a few hours, Tracy-Janine fell into a contented sleep. How long she slept she had no way of knowing, but upon waking she momentarily forgot her circumstances and involuntarily bucked violently at her restraints; almost causing the chair to topple over in the process. As her mind began to focus, she realized that her feet and hands were tingling due to the tight bonds restricting their movement. She wiggled her toes, rotated her ankles and wrists as much as the ropes and cuffs would allow, and stretched her fingers against the spandex, in an effort to get the blood flowing to her extremities again. Faintly, she thought she could hear birdsong from outside the window, which meant that the sun was up, although at this time of year, being late spring, it could still be fairly early. Tracy-Janine was torn, therefore, between trying to release herself straight away, or spending an hour or two longer relaxing before attempting her escape. The continued thrill that coursed through her when she thought of herself encumbered in all this rope, however, swayed her towards the latter option.

After another couple of hours of bound bliss, Tracy-Janine decided that it was time to commence her escape bid. Her body and limbs were now getting stiff from sitting in the same position for so many hours, and although she could have happily remained here indefinitely, she knew that a monumental effort, which would undoubtedly take several hours, would be needed to free herself. For the first time, she began struggling in earnest to get loose from the ropes that lashed her to the chair, but after several minutes had very little to show for her efforts. Another half an hour passed, but with each passing minute Tracy-Janine began to realise that on this occasion she had surpassed herself; she was stuck fast, her bonds proving inescapable. Tracy-Janine fought against her predicament with increased vigour, but it was no use. It was becoming obvious that she would need outside assistance to regain her freedom.

After an hour or two of intense struggle, Tracy-Janine finally relaxed. She’d reached her ultimate goal of completely inescapable bondage and now she was trapped. How long would it take before someone found her? She had no idea, but the knowledge of her predicament, far from sending her into a panic, actually sent a shiver of excitement coursing through her. Okay, so she may have to spend a day or two in discomfort, without food or water and unable to move, but the thrill of complete captivity outweighed any such trivial details. Maybe eventually she’d find a way to release herself. Maybe someone would realise she was missing and come looking for her; not that this would happen until Monday at the earliest. Or maybe, if she tried hard enough, she could make enough noise that someone would hear her; notwithstanding the efficient gag that she’d lumbered herself with.

But these considerations were of no concern at the moment. For now she would enjoy her situation while it lasted.

Oh well, she thought to herself, maybe I’ll have more luck freeing myself tomorrow.

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