Graces Journey Ch 01

Where do I start? I start with, I am Grace Manners, or just Grace to my friends. I work as a trader for a US investment bank in Canary Wharf. From losing my virginity at fifteen I've always been promiscuous, my early years spent discovering the joys, or sometimes not, of teenage sex.

At twenty I was introduced to bondage by a boyfriend's father. To this day I'm not sure whether the incident was planned or a genuine opportunistic event, but it changed my life forever. It was a warm sunny evening, and I went round to see my boyfriend who it turned out had gone out without telling me. His father was always flirting with me and being the little slut I am, I encouraged it and somehow ended up being tied spread-eagled to his bed and fucked senseless. It was the most mind-blowing experience I'd ever had, and it opened my eyes to a BDSM world I had never imagined existed. Over the years I've experimented with many sexual perversions, but I always return to what has become my whole being and soul, bondage, forced orgasms and orgasm denial.

In terms of looks, I'm 5'9" tall slim and shapely and I'm what a number of my work colleagues would call 'posh top totty', a description that some may find offensive, but which I have no problem with. I figured out at an early age that I could use my looks and body to get what I wanted and over the years the trashy hooker look has gradually matured to the classy business executive. I still love to dress provocatively; black seamed stockings, suspenders, high heels and a tight-fitting business suit usually do the trick, and many a time I've sat in boring work meetings fantasising about being tied spread-eagled to the meeting room table and having those alpha guys fucking all my holes and wanking over me, and me with no ability to stop them.

I should probably say at this point that I'm now thirty-one and despite being pretty much able to have my catch of guys, I choose to be man-less. I've had my fair share of boyfriends and was even engaged to be married for a time but it's just not me. I have endless energy, and an exceptionally low boredom point and I concluded some years ago that the idea of being tied to one guy for the rest of my life would just be too restrictive. So, when I say man-less that means man-less in the sense of a permanent relationship. What I do have are a number of fuck friends, all of whom have been selected on the basis that they are, let's say fit and of generous proportions, and we're not talking Mc Donald's fans here, and for their ability to thoroughly use and abuse my body and generally leave me sore, worn-out and feeling like a dirty depraved slut.

But back to the point of this story, so over the years I've had many sexual partners and whenever possible, I've furthered my BDSM interests, but I've also become a huge self-bondage fanatic. I've spent hours thinking up and acting out elaborate situations where I would be restrained and unable to escape for long periods of time. The older I got the more elaborate these fantasies became but even though I'd toyed with bondage with various boyfriends, I'd never met a partner that I'd felt totally comfortable with to really let go with, or that I considered sufficiently trustworthy to fully give myself to without question.

Five years ago, at the height of the economic boom I got promotion and if I say so myself, a well-deserved sizable pay increase and bonus. Whilst my colleagues spent theirs on crates of Moet, Rolex's, Porsches, and trips to exotic destinations, I spend a nice fat wad on a secluded farmhouse estate in the home counties. The property consisted of a newly refurbished five-bedroom barn conversion, treble garage, workshop, second barn, stables, other assorted outbuildings and twenty-five acres of land, much of which was dense unkept woodland.

All in all, far too big for me but there was one feature that made this a must-have property; nestled in the woods adjoining the house was a dilapidated old World War II air-raid shelter. The estate agent showed it to me almost with embarrassment saying that it could easily be removed, which of course it couldn't, but he could have had no clue of the ideas it set racing in my perverted mind.

About sixty feet long, thirty feet wide and ten feet high, it was built so he said of four-foot-thick re-enforced concrete walls, surrounded on three sides and the top by earth and after seventy-five years of neglect, now totally covered in long grass, bushes and brambles. There was a single entrance down five concrete steps and through a heavy industrial cast iron door which itself was half covered by weeds and bushes. Being newly converted, the house was great and didn't need much doing to it other than moving in. It was always the air-raid shelter that was going to get my immediate attention and within a week of buying the property I had it thoroughly cleaned out, rubbish removed, and the ceiling, walls and floor all washed down, sealed and painted. The ceiling and walls received three coats of thick white masonry paint and the floor I coated with the thick grey rubber floor sealer, the sort you see in garages and industrial units. The heavy cast iron door was also rubbed down and painted, but on the inside only. I wanted the outside to remain looking dilapidated and neglected in the unlikely event anyone should actually pass by.

Other internal features included two steel 'rails' running the length of the ceiling that I guessed had been used for moving heavy equipment in and out. For the time being and after much fighting with rusty bolts, I removed them and dumped them in the barn, but I just knew that it wouldn't be long before they would be back in place.

Surprisingly, the shelter still had a power supply but for what I had planned that needed to be completely replaced. There was a rusty old distribution board on the back wall, and I arranged for a local electrician to replace this and run two armoured feeds the fifty feet from the house mains to the shelter. With this done, I had him fit a series of lights and power sockets and equipped it was some basic facilities; a small fridge/freezer, table, chairs, a relaxing sofa, a full-length mirror and an emperor-size heavy wooden framed bed.

Self-bondage; for years I'd been a fan and now I had the environment to really experiment in. Preparations would as ever be meticulous, but I knew it would be worth it. Over the years I'd accumulated a range of bondage toys and devices and now was the time to really put them all to use. To begin with I assembled my collection of favourite toys including my favourite remote controlled butt plug and vibrator, chastity belt and matching bra, ball gag, leather hood and blindfold and the latest addition to my favourites list, a vacuum bag.

The first thing to attend to was the latest addition; the vacuum bag. The bag was made up of a rectangular steel pipe frame over which was stretched a thick cream covered latex rubber sheet. Sealed on the top, bottom and along one long side, the fourth side had an air-proof plastic zipper its entire length. The bag frame fitted neatly onto the bed and although I wouldn't ever class myself as a master cabinet maker, within a morning I'd fashioned wooden upright stands which I positioned at each corner. From underneath, I put several screws through the bed slats and up into the stands and from the top, I drilled a single hole through each of the steel frame corner brackets. Screwing each corner down onto the uprights, I glued the drill holes with Araldite and finally covered them with silicon bathroom sealant to prevent any air seepage. The vacuum frame was now firmly secured on a block at each corner, with the underside of it laying on the mattress and completely unable to move.

The other important feature was the vacuum pump itself and timer. These came with the bag and were pretty simple to setup and operate. On testing it out I found that it would completely empty the bag of air in about two minutes, enough time I was sure to position myself and most importantly, to get my mouth comfortable around the breathing pipe. The final detail was to sort out the shelter door which was locked by a large steel lever that rotated ninety degrees. Horizontal and the lock was open. Turn the lever ninety degrees clockwise to the upward position and the door was locked. On examining the outside handle, it was clear that a single bolt held the lever on. I removed that bolt and after a WD40 spray and bit of pushing, shaking and general wriggling around the handle came off. Now I could remove the handle, enter the shelter, lock it from the inside in the knowledge that short of a nuclear bomb going off, I wouldn't be interrupted. In fact, if a nuclear bomb did go off, I most certainly wouldn't be interrupted.

I'd concocted many plans over the years, but I decided to start with a simple experiment to get warmed up. For my first adventure both of my holes would be plugged, the chastity belt fitted, and the keys secured so that I couldn't get to them for a fixed time. I would then put ear plugs in, fit my hood and climb into the vacuum bag. Having first set the butt-plug and vibrator remote, I would zip up the bag and get comfortable fitting the air tube in place so that I could breathe. After a few minutes, the timer would turn the pump on sucking the bag tightly around me and restrained by the bag I would be helpless against the plug and probe. When the timer cut the power to the bag, the air would slowly return and after a minute or so I would be able to unzip the bag and escape. I couldn't wait and just the thought of being helpless trapped in the bag made me shiver in anticipation.

I played with the timer and bag for several evenings, setting the timers on and off and watching it suck the air from the bag. Finally, I repeated the tests with a couple of rucksacks in place to simulate my body. The sight of the latex being sucked in tightly around them made me shiver with excitement. Sure enough, once evacuated, the bag held them securely in place and within a couple of minutes of the pump turning off, air would seep back in allowing movement and escape.

So, to the final preparations. I had picked next Friday night as the night for my first experiment and decided that just to add a bit of spice, I would go the whole week without sexual stimulation, thereby hopefully heightening the experience, a decision I bitterly regretted after the first day. I couldn't think of anything else, and I was walking around all week like an animal in heat. I arranged to work at home on Friday and at about 5:00pm I gave up all pretence of work. I had a long hot bath and shaved myself. Just this act almost brought me off as I couldn't help but stroke the top of my engorged clit. I shuddered at what I knew lay ahead.

It was a warm evening and naked as the day I was born, as dark descended, I made my way out to the shelter. Locking the house, I couldn't help but feel more alive than at any time in my life. I stretched and felt the cool evening air on my body. Although I was in a secluded area with little chance of being overlooked the act of being naked outdoors added to my excitement. Removing the outside handle, I laid it inside the door, stepped in and closed the door tightly. It clanged with a solid industrial sound.

Now to the fun part. I had ordered the vibrator and butt plug from the US, and they were truly amazing. They were heavy stainless steel and pretty much the biggest that would fit me without causing real damage. They came with a feature I loved; a remote control for setting different profiles; low, medium, high and random plus an ability to set a time to start and time between profiles. Having used them before I knew full well the consequence of high and random, but never before had I been able to put myself in a predicament where I wouldn't be able to turn them off or remove them.

First the butt-plug. I covered it liberally in KY jelly and bending forward slightly forced it deep into my very tight puckered arsehole. I winced as it pushed deep inside and eventually felt the satisfaction as the shoulder at the end butted up to my arse cheeks. I very gingerly sat on the chair feeling the cold steel forcing itself even deeper into my back passage. Then the vibrator, although not necessary in the slightest, I smeared it with more KY, I opened my pussy and pushed the thick body deep inside. The body was about nine inches long and two inches diameter. I shivered as the cold hard steel forced my lips open and penetrated deep inside my sex stretching me open. I rotated it slightly so that the pear-shaped shoulder covered my clit. A final push and the domed top of the device was forced as deep inside me as it would go, the shoulder hovering an inch above my lips and clit. I squeezed hard relishing the invasion.

Next to the chastity belt, again purchased from the US. The belt I had used many times and it never ceased to thrill me. A thin band of polished stainless steel with a soft bonded rubber liner for comfort, I positioned it loosely around my waist. When locking it, there were five options as to how tight to fit it. I usually set it on two. This time, however, I pushed it again and it snapped to three and then again to four. I could feel the band digging sharply into my waist. The second part was a thin plate about one inch wide that attached to the front of the belt. It widened and domed out as it passed over my sex and had two thin, but sturdy chains attached to the bottom corners. I looped both under me and hooked each to the fasteners on the back of the belt, pulling them several rings tighter than I would normally have done. I attached small padlocks to the waist band and the two chains putting the keys on the table, well out of reach. The plate was pressed hard against my mound and the end of the vibrator and as I squirmed to get comfortable, I could feel it pushing the head of the vibrator the last inch inside me. I was now completely plugged front and back with both devices stretching me a far as I cared to go.

Next, I fitted the ear plugs and finally my favourite leather hood. The laces at the back gave some problems but I eventually got them to my liking. I tied them off and fastened the two buckles around the neck band. I followed the hood with a thick four-inch studded D ring collar. At last, I was ready for my first real experiment in self-bondage.

I had set the two remote controls on a chair next to the bed with the pump timed to start in five minutes and run for fifteen minutes and the probe remote to start in ten minutes and everything else to random. Even untied, I had never done this before and there was no telling what the probes would do to my poor body. The final act was to clip the leather blindfold onto the hood, fasten it down and get comfortable in the bag.

There could only be a few minutes left so I climbed quickly although very gingerly into the bag, given the sizable steel objects invading me. The chastity belt and bra were already doing their job and as badly as I wanted to rub my throbbing clit, there was no way I could get past the cold steel shell protecting it.

I zipped the bag up to the very top, got comfortable with my mouth around the breathing tube and lay waiting, my heart pounding and all my senses heightened. It seemed like an eternity. I had purposely used ear plugs and hood so that I would be cut off from as many senses as possible. I didn't hear the 'click' of the timer, but I did hear the pump spring into life. No going back now. 1 minute in and I could feel the bag starting to suck down around me. 1 minute thirty seconds and my movements were severely restrained. Two minutes and although I could struggle, I couldn't move my body an inch in any direction. I could hear the whirr of the pump in the background and had to concentrate on breathing slowly and deeply. My mind was racing. What the hell was I doing here!!

The anal probe started first, a dull vibrating. It built gradually until my arse muscles were spasming hard. Then the vibrator kicked into life. I wasn't prepared for how intense the stimulation was. It was too intense, and I couldn't stand it! In a matter of seconds, I was screaming and thrashing around although going absolutely nowhere. The vacuum bag was doing its job well. Not only was my pussy tingling and in spasms but for the first time ever I experienced an anal orgasm. My butthole clenched around the plug and sent all manner of pleasures coursing through my body. Then another orgasm, this one was even more powerful than the first. My hips started to buck on their own. All I could hear were my own screams of lust inside the hood as waves of raw energy jolted through my body. Finally, both invaders slowed and stopped, and I collapsed back on the mattress. I was covered in sweat, gasping for breath and my arse and pussy felt like they'd gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson.

No sooner had I relaxed than it stated again. This time it was, the clitoral stimulator that started first. Gently stimulating my already oversensitive bud. I squirmed in anticipation then suddenly, the whole vibrator kicked in at maximum level. It truly winded me and struggling to get air in my lungs, I could feel the next wave of pleasure approaching. Every muscle of my being stretched taught. I struggled in my unyielding cocoon. As the orgasm washed over me, I truly lost any sense of where or who I was as my mind struggled to make sense of the tsunami racking my body. I don't remember the remaining ten minutes as it seemed like I was having 1 constant never-ending orgasm. Eventually though I heard the dull hum of the pump shut off and both probes shutdown. I lay waiting for something to happen but all I could hear was my breathing and my heart racing at about two hundred beats a minute in my chest.

Slowly I regained some sense of consciousness. What the hell just happened? That was beyond my wildest dreams! The bag had inflated now, and I opened the side and slowly climbed out. I removed the hood blindfold and looked over to the full-length mirror. Only fifteen minutes for my first 'new age' self-bondage experiment and my body was dripping with sweat, the probe, plug and chastity belt unmoved despite the Richter ten earthquake orgasms that had racked my body. Jesus, I felt exhausted!

I very carefully removed the belt, vibrator, and butt-plug. Still recovering, I dropped all of them on the bed and shakily made my way back to the house. A hot shower and half an hour later I was sleeping like a baby. I awoke on the Saturday morning with a very relaxed satisfied feeling. I'd broken my World War II shelter virginity and it had certainly given me lots to think about. If anything, I ached even more than the previous night and as I ran a hot bath and let the heat soak into my muscles, I couldn't help but wonder what my next experiment should be.

It had been a week since my self-bondage initiation, and I couldn't stop thinking about it. The whole location and setting had made this far more intense than anything I'd done previously. What would happen if I set the timer for longer, thirty minutes, an hour or even more? I answered that question quickly as the shelter became an instant addiction. Every day after work I would visit it and repeat my initial experiment extending the timer up to thirty minutes then forty-five minutes then an hour. Every time it blew my mind and on several occasions the intensity was such that I actually passed out.

But what should I do next? Merely extending the timer further couldn't be 'it', surely? Also, the whole thrust of the first experiment was sexual, but what about mixing in pain and physical discomfort. I had no idea of the answer to those questions, so I decided to take my time and think through the options. All I knew was that I wanted more; more anticipation, more excitement, more intense orgasms and maybe just a degree of danger and risk.