My weekend of humiliation actually began on Friday morning after reading your email telling me that I had to put myself in punishment. I left the laptop and went into my bedroom to get dressed and I took from my drawer a pair of bottle green hockey pants. I have not done any sport since leaving school but sometimes I like to make myself wear gym pants like a schoolgirl being punished by having to wear yukky school pants outside of school. So all day at work on my holiday job I looked like a poised grown up on the outside but I was very aware of my old fashioned, thick, hot knickers.
On the way home from work I stopped at a DIY store and bought two padlocks and a length of quite heavy chain which they cut to order. I had thought of saying that I wanted it to chain a ladder to a wall to prevent it from being stolen but I decided that a girl in punishment is not allowed any convenient cover stories. I just told them what I wanted and left them to think what they wanted. When I left the store I was feeling very embarrassed but could not wait to get home to begin my task.
I came into the flat and it began. I just dropped my bag in the hall and began to strip just inside the front door. Everything came off including those awful pants and was strewn around the hall. When I was pink and naked I picked up my rattley bag from the DIY store and went to my bedroom. By this time I really wanted to ease the tension between my legs but decided to leave it. I opened the wardrobe and took out my bondage bag.
Sitting on the bed I looped chain around each ankle and padlocked it so that I had about two feet of chain between my feet. Next I applied a scarf as a gag tying it as tightly as I could so that my face was distorted and quite uncomfortable. I almost chickened out of the next bit but I made myself cuff my hands behind me. It was going to be a very long evening and the gag would rule out any food or drink. Bad girls who have to be punished do not get given meals.
Of course now getting my hands to my poor tingly pussy was impossible so I fell to my bedroom carpet and tried grinding my front into the floor which involved a lot of grunting and groaning. Can you imagine how I looked debasing my naked self while my open bondage bag was on the bed and my hall was a mess of discarded clothing?
My mouth was sticky with dribble and my nose was full of the scent of dust. My hair was dishevelled and I was hot and panting. As usual this session ended with me rolling onto my back and just laying there floating on endorphins.
I eventually shuffled to the hall and painfully slowly picked up my clothing and conveyed it to the bedroom or the laundry basket. Of course this was very awkward with my hands still locked behind my back.
There is not much to write about the rest of Friday evening. I did become quite thirsty and I spent the time on my lounge floor either watching television or pressing my pubis into the rug.
At around 9pm I gave myself special permission to remove the gag although my hands were still manacled. The gag had come loose and a bit of struggling pulled it clear of my mouth where the material hung damply around my neck. I went to the kitchen avoiding the window and poured myself a glass of water. I had to position the glass in the sink and then turn on the tap so that it half filled the glass. This process took a long time of standing with my back to the sink.
When I drank the water (by putting the glass on the worktop and bending down to it) it felt so lovely and fresh and cool. Now I was ready for bed. I made my way to the loo to relieve myself and was just able to bend backwards sufficiently to reach my hands underneath to dry myself. I imagined you standing watching me with a look of contempt on your face.
I had been thinking about how I would spend the night and, having fixed on a plan, I sat on the bed to unlock my handcuffs. My poor wrists had deep red wheals but I could not spend any time resting. I freed my ankles then took my thick duvet and dropped it on the kitchen floor then I took a blanket from the airing cupboard. The chain which had been around my ankles was looped around one wheel of the washing machine and padlocked in place leaving the other end snaking across the hard floor. This free end of chain was padlocked to the chain of my handcuffs. The key to one of the padlocks, I did not check which one, was tied on a piece of string so that it hung down from the handle of a kitchen drawer. I put myself on top of the duvet to give myself a little meagre comfort and pulled the blanket around me then, sitting up, I used the scarf to bind my ankles and dragged a pillowcase over my head. The final act was to lie on my side and feel for the handcuffs which were lying on the floor. Once they were snapped in place poor little Julie was secured for the night. The handcuff key was in the bedroom so to free myself I would have to feel around for the dangling key to the padlock so that I could unlock the chain which secured me to the washing machine. That would involve some trial and error and I did not know whether the key would turn in the padlock between my hands or the one on the floor where the chain was looped around the wheel.
What can I tell you about Friday night? Have you ever thought what a noisy place a kitchen is? All night the freezer was cutting in and out and making little burbling sounds and a duvet does not really do good duty as a mattress. My chained hands meant that I could never fully pull the blanket over myself and finding a comfortable position was difficult. I honestly cannot tell you whether I slept; I may have dozed a bit. I fantasised about further adventures like driving to the New Forest and handcuffing myself to a tree or going to a multi storey car park in the city and stripping myself on the cold hard concrete. But you have to remember that I had not eaten since lunch so my blood sugar was very low and so was my concentration therefore driving would have been quite dangerous.
