My real life self bondage: 1 (Patreon)
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And now, a caveat-
I need to explain what self-bondage is to me, even though I realize that many (even most) of you may think of it as something entirely different. By the end you might be asking “where was the bondage part?”
Forced Feminization is what it’s all about for me. That has been my greatest kink for as long as I can remember and any self-bondage I do is simply related to forcing myself to dress in women’s clothes, even (especially) if I don’t want to.
I do enjoy actual bondage for the sake of feeling helpless, but in the case of self-bondage, for me it is ENTIRELY to serve the purpose of forced feminization. If actual bondage accomplishes that, or some other mechanism, then I still call it “self-bondage” by the end I think you’ll understand what I’m talking about. So without any further adieu…
I used to drive a lot for my day job, all over my home state and into the bordering states. The nature of my work was such that I would usually do a road trip in one long day, driving up to about six hours in one direction, completing my work, then driving home and arriving late at night.
On one such trip, I began to get horny on the way to my job. I don’t know why, I rarely understand or have control over my own bouts of hornyness. Suffice it to say, that I was having sexy day dreams for the entire six hour drive. It being me, those daydreams almost exclusively included thinking up ways to indulge my forced feminization fantasy.
After my job was complete, in the early evening, I stopped by a local department store –I think it was a Kmart. I purchased a mid-sized, sturdy plastic tool box, a combination paddle lock that fit the toolbox, and most excitingly a silk and lace black and maroon matching bra and panty set.
It was quite embarrassing to pay for the lingerie because a young lady was at the checkout stand. We both tried to act nonchalant, but the fact that this bra and panties would fit me was pretty obvious. The most deliciously humiliating part was after I’d paid, she started to turn to her female co-worker who was just finishing up with another customer. The store was pretty dead, and once we left, the ladies would be free to talk. My cashier had a smile spreading on her face as she turned, and there is NO DOUBT in my mind what they were going to be talking about.
I wanted to die of embarrassment, and I LOVED it at the same time. I remember wishing that there was some kind of compulsion spell cast on me, and that I’d have to blurt out. “This bra and panty set is for me. I’m going to put it on when I get outside of town.” Alas, her guessing that I was going to wear it would have to do.
By the time I got out of town, it was dark and I found a dirt road that lead away from the freeway. I’d scouted out this road on my way into town, knowing that I’d be visiting it when I got back. During the day, it was surprisingly busy with an average of one car every two or three minutes passing by. I guessed that would be less at night, but not completely empty.
A mile or two off of the freeway I pulled over, and removed one of the key fobs that would unlock the car, and sat it on top of a tall fence post by the side of the road. I then got back into the car, and watched the odometer as I drove exactly one more mile down the road. I pulled the car off the road, and got out.
I removed all of my clothes, except my shoes, and put on the ladies underwear. They felt SO good sliding onto my body, and it was probably just the hornyness talking, but I felt like I looked really sexy too. I LOVE the combination of a bra and panties and the risk of getting caught wearing them. Even though the panties touch ones penis and are a constant sexual reminder, the bra does something deliciously psychological (for me at least.)
If someone did happen to catch me wearing nothing but a pair of panties, I could rationalize in my mind that the person might wonder if I’d just had no other option. Maybe I’d jumped out a lover’s window and had just grabbed the first thing I saw. Perhaps pranksters had arranged for this to be all I had to wear. But, if I were also wearing a bra at the same time, there could be no doubt that I’d chosen to wear them as a perverted act of cross-dressing. Because of this, I honestly can’t say which I like better, a bra or panties. Suffice it to say, they are a winning combination.
As the night air hit my skin, I threw the remaining keys and fob into the passenger seat. I then locked the car, and slammed the door shut. Boom, the point of no return. Even now, writing this my heart is racing because of the rush I get from this moment in time. The door is locked. There is NOTHING I can do now except to walk the 2 MILE round trip wearing only a bra and panties. If I get caught, I’ll just die.
That brings me to the masturbating part. Normally in order to fuck myself over, I like to masturbate before the point of no return. Just as I’m about to come, I’ll slam the door shut, or click the lock, or whatever the mechanism is to force compliance on myself. It makes for the most intense orgasm ever, followed by the hugest feeling of dread. Literally every ounce of kinkiness leaves me with the last spurt of cum. I feel humiliated and abhor the situation I’m left in.
I’ve tried to explain this to several people, and so far no one has understood why I like to do it this way. One girlfriend asked. “So if you like how it looks and feels when you’re horny, why don’t you do the whole excursion horny and enjoy every minute of it?” Until then I’d never really thought about it. I guess the only way I can explain it is to compare it to autoerotic asphyxiation. I have never tried that, and never will because it’s deadly dangerous, but my understanding is that the orgasm is amazing.
I don’t really WANT to be stuck outside on a 2 mile walk feeling humiliated and terrified, but the orgasm. Oh my GOD the orgasm! Knowing I’m about to be stuck just makes me cum so hard! I suppose there’s a bit of a self-punishment, or self-destructive vibe adding to it. Frankly, I don’t know and I don’t care. I just LOVE this little doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde game.
Anyway, on this night I didn’t jack off before slamming the door. I had never walked so far before and I knew that it might be a bit too much for post-orgasm me to handle, so I decided to do the walk in my sexy underwear while feeling good about it. Let me tell you, the walk did feel pretty damn good too. As I had guessed, the traffic had dwindled quite a bit, but not completely. I think I had to dodge about five cars on my entire trek. The road was a country dirt road with weeds and bushes all along it. However, there were a couple of stretches that were completely barren with nothing to hide behind.
On one of these stretches I looked ahead, and couldn’t spot any hiding place for as far as I could see and yes, you guessed it- Headlights were coming. They were a good mile or two away, but that wouldn’t take them very long to get here, even at night on an old dirt road. I felt so aroused and crazy, that instead of immediately starting to run, I went to the middle of the road and did a sexy dance for as long as I dared.
I was wild with desire, and almost WANTED to get caught, but my more rational mind won out, and I started running as fast as I could after a few moments. If I remember right, the only thing to hide behind was nearly a block away, and it was just a little bush. I had to squat down, and I’m sure that parts of me were sticking out. To this day I don’t know if I was spotted or not, but there was no sign from the car that they’d seen me. The excitement of almost getting caught, and having to run nearly made me cum in my panties without even touching myself.
I walked on and on and on, and the tall fence post with the fob never seemed to come. I knew from experience that I needed to stay calm, that I’d been watching closely for it, and had NOT passed it by. But wait, had I? Maybe when I was running? Oh shit, should I backtrack? No, press on idiot, you’ve done this before, keep going. Sure enough, after a LOOONG time of walking I finally saw the fencepost, and got the fob. On my way back to the car, there was no real incident. Yes I had to hide from cars a couple of times, but none of them were really a close call.
When I got back, I opened the door with the fob and got out the toolbox, and lock I’d purchased. I locked the car door again and then tossed the fob into the weeds about 30 feet way. I was pretty sure I could find it again, but the uncertainty was enough to add more fire to my arousal. I then placed all of my regular clothes (even my shoes and socks) into the toolbox. I snapped it shut, and put the combo lock in place so the clothes would be completely inaccessible, but I didn’t snap the lock shut yet. I then emailed the combination to an address that I could only access from home, deleted any record of it from my phone and burned the paper it was written on. As I masturbated, I repeated random numbers to myself to make sure I couldn’t remember. As any hope of recalling the numbers fled my mind, I built quickly to the most amazing orgasm. My knees buckled, and I almost fell to the ground.
Needless to say, I instantly regretted everything. I acutely felt what I hadn’t felt before- that this bra and panties were too small. My chest really hurt where the underwire had been rubbing into it. It hadn’t registered before, but now it was very uncomfortable, and my inner thighs were also raw from the panties rubbing them. But, as planned there was NOTHING I could do about it, except get naked, and that wasn’t a good option. My thinking- I MIGHT be ok if I was caught wearing women’s underwear, but no way was I going to walk away from being caught naked by a cop.
So the (now perceived as) awful bra and panties had to stay on. This was actual real life forced feminization. Yes, self-forced, but compulsory and unwanted feminization nonetheless. I guess I should have been happy, but I just wanted to find that stupid fob and get on the road. I had six hours ahead of me wearing this outfit!