You just have to laugh at yourself sometimes. Even when, at times like that, perhaps laughing wasn't all that appropriate. Why was I laughing? Because, stupid me and my fantasies. There I was, in the basement laundry room of my apartment building. I was wearing the sheerest bra and thong I owned. One last thing, I was totally helpless in bondage. Who bound me? That's the silly part. I did. I did it to myself. I long had the fantasy of self bondage, to put myself in a predicament, such as the one I was in. I blame erotica, I'd read so much about it I started to fantasize about ways I could do it. In no way did I ever think I'd be there, though, ankles bound to the laundry sink, my wrists cuffed behind my back, and my neck pulled close to the faucet by a thin chain. Worse, I'd blindfolded myself.
I'd never been a "good" girl through high school, and even into college. I'd had a couple boyfriends, had a lot of sex, even had given a few blowjobs to one-nighters, outside of my relationships but most of my "dark" fantasies had stayed in my head. That is, until that moment. I'd driven myself into a frenzy, reading about women putting themselves in compromising positions, and the things that happened to them. I'd read everything from them being embarrassed by being "caught" by their boyfriends to being brutally taken by one...or many in that helpless state. I can't tell you the number of times I got myself off at all those thoughts.
The way I saw it, I wanted to feel the helplessness, the panic, the fear of the embarrassment of being caught. If it turned into something "else" then that was part of the thrill of it. The fear of being found like that by...god knows who...well, that got me dripping every time I thought of it, which was often. It's one thing to fantasize about it or read the outcome of totally fake, unreal erotica where everything works out in the end, it's another to be there, chained to a sink.
I'm Kelsey, I'm a 23 year old woman. I have black hair, black eyes (really just a very dark brown). I'm really short. I always say I'm 5 foot, two inches, but the doctor's office always lists me at barely over 5 feet. My titties are small, but pert, I never get any complaints, and honestly I'd hate to lug anything bigger around all day! My nipples get firm, like the erasers on those big elementary school pencils. Guys say my ass is "crazy," meant in a good way. It's round and full, but tight. An old boyfriend said it was almost cartoonish, like how an erotic illustrator would draw it. Again, no complaints from lovers, only compliments. Everyone says my face is "cute," and, "adorable," though I don't know the difference between that and, "pretty," or, "beautiful." I'd kind of prefer the latter.
Back to the "situation." I live in an apartment complex. Each separate building has 4 units in it, my building is connected to another 4 unit building, which share the basement laundry. So, 8 units, one large laundry room that has two washers, two dryers. It's also large enough to store a lot of the maintenance equipment and supplies. I know everyone in my 4 unit group. On one side, there's an older cat lady. She's probably in her 70s. I rarely ever see her. Her daughter does her laundry, once a week, like clockwork on Saturday mornings. The apartment that butts up against mine has a 20 something couple, who always seem to be yelling at each other. I always call them the "Floribama couple." In the unit across from mine there's a creepy dude, probably 40 something. He reminds me of those guys where the news people show up and everyone says, "he never bothered anyone," or, "he kept to himself." Meaning, "that guy was a nut job, we just didn't pay attention." I'm not saying I knew he was wacky or anything, just that that was the vibe I got.
As for the other 4 units all I knew was that at least one of the apartments had a group of college guys. I always saw at least 2 or 3 coming and going, we never said anything more than "hi's" to each other or politely waved.
That's the predicament I found myself in, helpless, bound in my skimpiest underwear, all while in the basement in which any of my neighbors would discover me. Did I actually want to be discovered? Hell, I don't know, no...maybe. I never get wetter than reading about when a woman gets caught like that and actually has to "pay" for it sexually. Fantasy is one thing, reality is another.
That was the mindset I had that night, one side of my brain fighting the other. I had warmed up to that night by doing smaller, less risky things. I had cuffed my hands while topless, and made myself walk back and forth past my window, which overlooks the parking lot. Granted, at first it was quick. I'd rush past, only to sneak a look out after, just to see if anyone noticed. After a few more tries on different days I forced myself to walk slower, even stop for a proscribed amount of time. I wasn't sure anyone had seen, none that I noticed anyway. I had done the "pizza dare" type thing, in my own way. I met the young guy at the door in just panties and a nightshirt, exposing as much of my titties as I dared. As an added "bonus" I'd inserted a butt plug, which I'd recently become enamored with. It was just added fuel to the fire in my pussy, having to stand there and converse with him, while he ogled my tits. Now it was made more thrilling knowing that I had my ass being invaded at the same time. I'm sure he saw my blush, but knowing guys, he probably chalked it up to his masculinity in some way.
It all led me there. It was Friday night, around 8 pm, yes I know that was a safer time to do it. You wouldn't expect me to do it on Saturday morning, for example, when the cat lady's daughter was expected, would you?
God, I was so nervous. I had stood in front of my mirror in my belly baring top and tight shorts. It was as if I was trying to be a voyeur in my own adventure. I was looking at a self bondage slut, trying to decide what to wear, how to do it all. It was lust that drove me to my decision to strip off both my top and my shorts, leaving me in just a black thong and a black lace bra which was see through at the nipples. I sighed when I looked at that woman in the mirror. I was now the slut in all those stories. I worked up the courage to loosely tie a chain around my neck. It was actually a long, thick necklace. I looped it around like a noose, though, so that pulling against it would actually tighten it against my neck. The other end I would somehow attach to the plumbing. I'd have to figure that out when I got there.
I had recently purchased ankle cuffs, even though I doubted I'd ever have the guts to use them in such a public fashion. They were the fluffy kind, not the cold, hard steel kind, though I kind of wished I'd gone " all in" on it. I planned to cuff each ankle separately to each leg of the sink. Finally, I cuffed my handcuffs to one wrist and laid the key on the table next to the door.
Yes, I was about to take the risk of a lifetime, but I wasn't completely stupid (depending on your point of view, I suppose). My best friend in the whole world is Maggie. She's the only person in the entire world I could ever tell about my fantasies. She was completely amazed, shocked, horrified by what I told her, but, bless her innocent heart, she also was supportive. She has had sex with one person in her life, her current boyfriend, who she intends to marry. She's the most empathetic person I know, as evidenced by her support of my fantasy, even if she didn't understand it. She was the one I told about my lead ups to this situation. She knew it all, the exhibitions in the window, the thing with the pizza guy. She quizzed me fully about them, how it felt, what it was like. If anyone knew the real me, she did.
The scenario was this. I'd put myself down there, as described before, at around 8pm. After attaching my ankles to the legs of the sink, I'd hook the neck chain up to the plumbing somehow. I wanted a blindfold, so that I'd have to "suffer" with most of my senses dulled. Also, I figured what self respecting bondage slut would I be if I didn't use a ball gag. I knew that after an hour, I'd be drooling like a river, into that sink. Lastly, I'd cuff my other cuffs to my wrists behind me, locking me in place. Maggie would come "rescue" me at 9. I told her, in no uncertain terms, to not come a minute before 9. I had to remain like that, with the possibility of being discovered, for an hour. I also added, "but goddamn, don't be fucking late! Or else...well, you know."
Like I said before, it wasn't like I hadn't done my homework. Friday night was when I normally did my laundry because no one ever interrupted me. I figured the younger people either went out or "stayed in" to have their own fun, and people like the cat lady, who never went out, would leave the laundry room vacant. As a warm-up, the Friday before the "main event" I actually did my laundry in a similar outfit as when I met the pizza guy. I had on just a thin polo shirt, no bra, my nipples quite clear, and silky, lingerie style shorts. It was a dry trial run (though there wasn't anything dry on me, the possible exhibitionism had me worked up).
I guess that's what made me so bold that night, the fact that I'd done quite a few things that risked exposure, but had never been caught. That's probably why I added the final embarrassing element to my predicament bondage scene. As I had stripped, and after adding the cuffs to my wrist and ankles, I had a thought.
"Oh, I need to wear a coat, or something over everything to get down to the basement."
You see, my door actually opens to outside, the apartments don't have outer doors protecting the apartments. We have to go through the outer doors after exiting our apartments in order to get to the mailboxes or, in this case, to the stairs to the basement. But, my horniness won out. I thought, "fuck it, you self bondage slut, if you are going to do this, you have to do it all the way."
My heart was racing when I looked out the peephole to see if anyone, especially my neighbor the "Unibomber," was looking. I didn't see anyone, so there I went in just my sheerest underwear, my bondage paraphernalia clacking on the ground as I raced to open the outer door with my key. Suddenly, it occurred to me that I'd forgotten something. I rushed back to drop the cuff keys on the table as preplanned. That gave anyone who might've been looking just another opportunity to see me, and perhaps follow me to see what I was up to. After I started descending the stairs I actually had the thought to go back, to quit, that perhaps I'd jeopardized it.
Somehow I convinced myself to continue. As I felt the handrail, I wondered what that would be like, being chained to the stairwell. I even had a thought that, perhaps that would be the scene "next time." I left the light off, however, there was one ceiling light on, as emergency lighting. It was enough for anyone to see...if they had the chance.
I felt like I was on automatic, like my brain had no more control over me. Robotically, I cuffed my ankles to the legs of the sink. Then, I looped the chain through itself through the eyelets, creating kind of a noose at both ends. On one end I loosened it to fit around my neck. At the other I bent over, ran it around the hot water handle and pulled backwards slightly, bringing it all to an uneasy tightness. "Whoa, lady. It's a long night," I joked to myself as I loosened it to a more comfortable level. Like I said, though, any backing up and it would choke me the farther back I went. Honestly, if I tried hard enough, I knew I could break it if I needed to, it was thick, but it was still jewelry after all. I put the ball gag in and sighed. Swallowing would be difficult for the next hour or so. I slid the blindfold in place. I was ready. It was now or never. Only the lack of handcuffs kept me from being totally helpless. I hesitated. Suddenly, I wondered if I had the courage. My pussy made the decision for me. Suddenly, I had locked my hands behind me, almost unconsciously. "Fuck, I'm in for it now." I couldn't back out even if I wanted to.
