I was trying not to panic. I told myself there was nothing I could do. I would just have to lay there another thirty minutes. The panic and anxiety I was feeling was not going to change my situation. In thirty minutes Ann would arrive. When I didn't respond to her knock, she would let herself in and then she would find me. I would have a lot of explaining to do but I would be free.
This had been the plan. A plan I had hoped would never be implemented. In spite of those hopes, deep down, I knew it was possible, maybe even inevitable. The thing was, Ann didn't know about the plan. She had no idea she was my safety net.
As a teenager I discovered bondage. I became fascinated by it. It provided an excitement that I couldn't explain. Being afraid to confess my fascination to anyone, it evolved into an obsession with self bondage. I started simply but quickly expanded to the point where I had a small collection of restraints and devices, including butt plugs, dildos, chastity devices and time locks.
Now in my early twenties, I had my own place. It was just a small one bedroom apartment but it afforded me the ability to indulge in my kink any time I had the urge. Being alone as I was, I learned early on that safety considerations were essential. Self bondage is not the safest of endeavors and if something were to go wrong there was, by definition, nobody there to help. That's where Ann came in. She was my safety net. As my self-bondage sessions advanced and became more elaborate, I made sure to have Ann scheduled to visit before I considered a session.
Ann and I had been friends since high school and while she doesn't know about my kinks (although she's about to find out) I decided that if there was anyone I could confide in, it would be her.
We met our first year of high school in band class. We both clarinet and quickly became friends. Close friends, I thought. Close though we were, we never actually dated. It wasn't from lack of effort on my part. I asked her out several times. Her response was always the same.
"Nope, not my type," she'd say.
She did indeed have a type and I saw enough to know that I wasn't it. I watched her go through more than a few boyfriends throughout high school and beyond. All were taller and bigger than I was. More the jockish types. Not that I was all that small but I guess in her eyes, I didn't measure up, physically. She had girl friends she hung out with too, but we always seemed to spend a good amount of time together.
High school ended four years ago but we were still as close as ever. We hung out often, especially when she was between boyfriends. Today, a Saturday, was to be one of those days. I was just waiting for her to arrive and I was a sight she wouldn't be expecting. Naked, except for the chastity cage I was wearing. I was bent over the back of my bed. Legs spread and secured at the ankles to the bottom bedposts. My arms were stretched up over my head. There were handcuffs on my wrists. A piece of rope ran from the cuffs to the headboard, securing them in place. In addition to the restraints I had a ball gag in my mouth and a vibrating plug in my ass.
My laptop was open against the headboard and had been playing a pre-programmed list of videos that depicted scenes similar to my current predicament. The one major difference between the two was that the videos had women present who were teasing, spanking, pegging and otherwise tormenting their restrained male submissives. The videos combined with the vibrating plug were enough to keep me excited and on edge while the chastity cage ensured I was unable to get enough friction from humping the edge of the bed to cum.
My problem at this point was my inability to release myself. There was a key to the handcuffs within easy reach. At least it had been. The key had been in a box that was secured with a time lock. The one hour timer had expired and the lock had sprung open. The problem occurred when I attempted to remove the key. Somehow, I had fumbled it. The box rolled to the side and the key had been thrown out onto the bed, just out of reach. Try as I might, I couldn't get a finger on it. After struggling for a bit, I had finally managed to knock the key off the bed and onto the floor. Now, with absolutely no chance of retrieving it, I had resigned myself to waiting for Ann to arrive.
Ann was always prompt and I had conditioned her over time to let herself in whenever she came over. It had been a relatively easy thing to do after I had moved into my own place. Every so often, when she was coming over, I would leave before her arrival and then come back after I knew she was there. Never more than five minutes or so but that was enough. She'd text, asking where I was and I'd say I was almost there, running late. I'd leave the door unlocked and tell her to just go in. After a while, she just started letting herself in when I didn't answer her knocks, even when I was there. So today I was fairly certain she would do that. I was also sure she would quickly find me and release me from my restraints.
It was now about fifteen minutes before she was due to arrive. The videos were still playing. The current one depicted a male tied down over a table having his ass spanked with a paddle by a mostly naked woman. I say mostly because she had a seven or eight inch strap-on hanging down between her legs. Having watched this video many time before, I was certain it would still be playing when Ann arrived. Even with that thought, my anxiety over my situation had mostly abated. I was resigned to being discovered as I was. I was now mostly concentrating on the video again. As I watched, the woman had stopped paddling the man's ass. She was running her hand over the bright, red skin, commenting on how warm and red it was. I wanted to be the man in the video. My own ass, red and warm from such a thrashing.
Happy with her work so far, the woman grabbed a bottle of lube. Pouring some on the man's ass, she used her hand and fingers to work it in and around the ass that she would soon be fucking. My ass tingled with the vibration of the plug. My cock was hard inside the chastity cage as I awaited the moment of penetration.
The woman on the screen had just begun applying lube to the fake cock that hung down in front of her when I heard the knock on the door. Panic hit me again. In spite of the fact that I had resigned myself to being discovered, my anxiety rose with the inevitability of it. The video was forgotten as my attention was drawn to my open bedroom doorway. I stared at it, waiting for Ann to appear.
I'm sure I was a sight. I could feel my heart pounding through my chest and my cock straining against the confines of the cage. I heard the front door close. I was sure she was inside. She called out my name but with the gag, I wasn't able to respond. How long, I wondered, before she wandered down the hall to my room. Then the thought occurred to me, "Why would she come down the hall?" The obvious answer was that she wouldn't. I hadn't responded to her call so she'd just plop herself down on the couch and wait for me to show up. Then I heard the television come on and I realized that she wasn't going to come looking for me. I was stuck and she had no idea. What if she got tired of waiting and just left. She'd text first but I wouldn't be able to answer. What I had thought was a perfect plan was starting to unravel. Panic set in again for a whole new reason.
I still had a chance. I started to call out to her. The problem was that the ball gag muffled my voice. Even to me it wasn't very loud and she was in another room with the television on. I had little choice. I kept calling.
Several minutes passed. My mouth was getting dry and my voice getting hoarse. I was beginning to think she would never hear me. Then the television changed. Had she turned down the volume? Had she heard me? I started yelling with renewed enthusiasm.
The television went silent. Maybe she had heard me. Either that or she had given up and was leaving. I could hear movement. She was coming down the hall. I could hear her footsteps. Nervousness kicked in again. She appeared in the doorway and upon seeing me, stopped dead in her tracks.
"Oh, my,,,," she stopped mid sentence.
She stared with mouth agape, frozen in place. I suppose she was processing the scene before her. It seemed like an eternity before she moved again. Suddenly, a big smile appeared on her face. Then she started to laugh. She quickly brought her hand up to cover her mouth in an attempt to conceal her amusement. I turned my head away, now too embarrassed to face her. Staying in the doorway, she called my name.
"Greg."
I didn't move. Not that I could but I kept my head straight, staring at the headboard. The headboard and my laptop, which was still playing the video. Only now, the woman on the screen was pegging her subject with long, deep strokes.
Ann called out my name again, louder and more emphatically.
