Julie Alone

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Julie is told to put herself in bondage.
2.3k words
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Julie20
Julie20
390 Followers

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.

The night was very long and very uncomfortable and I asked myself why I was subjecting myself to this but I knew that if I just gave in I would feel a failure and would not know how to explain myself to you. Of course lying to you was never an option; you would be bound to catch me out in some inconsistency and I could not bear that.

My kitchen is quite small so I was in a narrow space between the freezer and the washing machine and I could not see the clock even if I were not hooded by a pillowcase. Eventually, in the bone aching silence I decided that I had probably been punished enough for this stage of my ordeal so I began the process of getting free. This took some time as I had to wriggle around, still entangled in the duvet and blanket, so that my back was to the worktops and I could feel for the dangling key. I was pretty dopy and disorientated by this time so it took a long time before I felt the key in my fingers then I had to manipulate it towards the padlock which was attached to the chain of my handcuffs. This operation involved much twisting of my hands but eventually the key was in the lock -- and it refused to turn.

So now I knew that I had been wasting my time and the key fitted the padlock attached to the other end of the chain around the wheel of the washing machine. I shuffled around on my bottom and felt the heavy padlock in my hands then I had to manoeuvre the key into place and I cannot describe the feeling of bliss as it turned and the padlock fell open. I sat there for a moment enjoying the freedom although, of course, I was still handcuffed and hooded with my ankles tied but I was free to move from my kitchen prison now that I was no longer chained to a heavy washing machine.

This flat is quite small so I can find my way around without needing to use my eyes. I made my way down the hall to the bedroom like a crab moving sideways and shifting my weight back and forth between my cuffed hands and my bound feet. By rubbing my head on the carpet I was able to drag off the pillowcase. The luminous bedside clock showed 2.55 as I stood up and then fell backwards onto the bed before a lot of shuffling around got me under the bedsheet with my head on the pillow.

All that exercise was tiring and I soon slept. I awoke, aching everywhere, at just before 6am and spent the next two hours drifting in and out of sleep and pushing my belly into the mattress like a naughty schoolgirl trying to relieve her primeval pressures with the attendant perspiration and very feminine odour and wetness.

As it was now Saturday I had to get myself to Sainsbury's but I knew you would expect the punishment to continue. With some effort I left the bed so that I was sitting on the carpet. Where was the handcuff key?

Last night I had put it on the bed but I had spent a night in the bed so the key could be anywhere. Morning light was filtering through the thin curtains as a naked girl shuffled around on the floor desperate to find the precious key. You would not believe how long that took and by now I needed the loo. I freed my hands and quickly untied the scarf from my ankles then ran to the loo.

I did not wash or clean my teeth but I went, still nude, to the kitchen where I drank some orange juice and ate a banana. By this time I had a plan for the rest of the day and I returned to the bedroom.

As you know I am not tall and I am not at all generous in the boob department so I can easily pass for about fourteen without any makeup. I tied my hair in two bunches and took a cream cotton summer dress from the wardrobe. Once the thin, short garment was in place I put on some cheap, flat, black shoes before scooping up my shopping bags and leaving the flat. The morning air was distinctly chilly to a young girl with no underwear and bare legs and the cotton dress rubbed my little nips with every movement. Of course driving a car did not quite fit with my young image but it was necessary.

At Sainsbury's I was very careful how I got out of the car. The dress was very short. Once again I was shivering as I walked across the car park and I am sure my nips were very obviously showing through the cotton. As I moved around the store I felt as if everyone was looking at me and I deliberately picked on a young male assistant and, shyly, asked him where to find the strawberry jam. He was definitely enjoying a nice eyeful as he answered my question. Several items were either on the top shelf or at the back of the freezer and I just cannot be certain if anyone actually saw my bare bum as I reached. The uncertainty is part of the naughty thrill.

As soon as I was back in the flat the dress was discarded onto the floor and, slipping out of my shoes, I ran naked to the bedroom where my handcuffs were snapped in place with my hands in front. Then I had to put away my groceries. I have net curtains in the lounge and bedroom but there are no nets in the kitchen so, if anyone happened to be looking, they may well have seen a glimpse of naked Julie as I moved around my cupboards.

As usual, after putting away shopping I slumped on the sofa to rest. Of course I was now feeling quite below par after my uncomfortable night and I knew that I was facing a whole day indoors naked and handcuffed. I imagined myself appealing to you to relent and I heard your reply, "You know that you are grounded for the rest of the day so don't ask again." It made me think of my dad; at home Mummy was usually in charge of discipline but if Daddy told me off that was really serious and just a word from him could make me run to my room and lay face down on the bed feeling a very naughty girl.

I am going to email this to you now and I am hoping that you might feel able to let me off for tomorrow. I promise I will be a really good girl.

Julie20
Julie20
390 Followers
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koala011860091koala011860091almost 13 years ago
Great realism

I just discovered your stories and love them. I particularly like the immediacy and the detail. It really brings us inside Julie's head as she carefully constructs her own torment. I also enjoyed the trip to Sainsbury's, since I always appreciate some exhibitionism...

Keep up the good work,

Koala

Nitro70652Nitro70652almost 13 years ago
you are unique

I've read all of your submissions and I as always, this is as good as it can get. Your unique take on telling stories involving D/s relationships is something I may never get tired of. If you don't belong to a Master, you should. I'm sure it would make Him extremely proud to claim you as His property.... or Her's (just in case). Thank you for your writing.

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