A selftied walk in the park, Saturday 2021-09-11

The weather forecast for Saturday says it’s going to be warm and nice, possibly the last time before autumn really strikes. I haven’t played outdoors for quite some time, and I felt I needed to take this possibly last opportunity this year. The game I have in mind is what I call “A walk in the park”, where I set myself up outdoors in a way so I need to transport myself some distance with people nearby to be able to release myself.

The park I picked is a rather big green area some distance from home, making me feel a little bit less anxious about being found in some very embarrassing situation by neighbors or colleagues. It’s a nice mixture of clear and forested parts, with abundant bushes that offer a decent chance to hide as well. The times I’ve been there before or passed it by, it seems pretty popular though, with much people walking, picnicking, playing, sunbathing or just relaxing on the lawns.

The basic setup is bringing a lockable bag with whatever tricks and treats I will use, finding a suitable spot to set myself up, another spot some distance from the first spot where I leave the key to the bag hidden, and then I return to the first spot, set myself up, and then leave clothes, cell, keys or other release devices locked in the bag, which is hidden and secured to a tree or something, so neither I nor anyone else can take it with them. I also set up a safety with a second key to the bag taped under my car outside the park, but to get to that one in the open parking space, I would have to wait until it gets dark. If all else fail, I also send a safety text to an informed friend: “Busy until 22:00 in XXXXX park, grove 600 m southeast western entrance, next to XXXXX sign”, so she’ll know where to come look for me in case I fail to get in touch. I hesitate about the time but finally settle on one that would minimize the risk of her having to come to my rescue, even if I need to wait for the spare key. Some 12 hours of being tied up the way I have planned would be very hard on me, even if my estimate is it should only be 3-4 hours, but I would survive it without permanent injury, even if parts of me would probably be marked and quite sore for maybe a couple of weeks to come.

I decided to make this session one worth remembering during the coming cold and dark autumn and winter weekends, so loaded up for a pretty advanced setting, tingling quite a bit already on my way there from the thoughts of my ordeal ahead. Once there, I found what I believed was a good spot, in a grove without any paved paths and with many bushes both obscuring it and probably making it less attractive to people just strolling the park. The grove was isolated, so when I found what seemed like a good spot for the key, some 400 meters away, it meant I would need to cross open areas to get there and back, including one or two paved paths, depending on route. Despite some bushes to hide behind on the way, it would still be a thrilling challenge. I also found one really wicked option for the key stash, which I hesitated about, but finally decided to use.

When I returned from setting the key up, I checked the surroundings before stripping naked. Despite it being early in the day, there were already several people within 100 m of my hideout, but none in the immediate vicinity. I checked that I had everything I intended in my lockable bag, especially keys and cutters for release, and it all seemed there.

I started out with my clit, rubbing it with some lube before fitting a cut-off syringe on it, sucking the quickly growing nub into the syringe, wrapping blind cord tightly around the syringe nudging it down around the base of my suctioned and swollen clit, slowly tightening it more and more before tying it off, turning my love nub into a deep purple, glistening, bulging and very sensitive pearl. I continued with my pussy, pushing and shoving a huge silicon dildo into it, burying all 203×64 mm of it in my vagina so just the very rear end with a large eye screw driven into it was visible. Next was a large black TPE anal dilator, which took some lube and patience before my anal sphincter finally had swallowed it and was able to contract on its neck, with the 152×64 mm body buried in my now stretched rectum. The bottom end of the plug was adorned with the same kind of eye screw as on the dildo. I had really wanted an inflatable plug, but it would have been impossible to fit the eye screw to without breaking it.

I then wrapped a metal twist chain around my waist, locking it rear with a pair of hinged police cuffs attached, using a padlock and pulling the free end of the chain down between my ass cheeks, through first the eye screw of the anal plug and then the eye screw of the dildo, pulling it tight up between my labia, forcing the plug and dildo as deep as they could go, easing off for a moment to fit a vibrating egg on the chain, so it would sit right on top of my sensitized little nub, securing it to the chain with slick black electrical tape, before again tightening the chain and locking its free end to the waist chain front, still with enough free chain to dangle almost down to my ankles, with both large intruders locked securely in place and the vibrator crushing into my tied and swollen clit. The arrangement made me feel all sex, actually moaning low in anticipation, but also a touch of fear, when thinking about how it would feel after a few hours and with that vibrator alive on my clit.

My breasts were next, being tightly and a bit painfully cuffed around their bases with ankle irons, hoisted and connected by a 40 cm twist chain back behind my neck, bulging obscenely as they swelled and started to shift color towards purple. I had more in store for them though, also adding 3 zipties around each swelling orb, the first a couple of cm out from the cuff, and each following another couple of cm out from the preceding one, tightened with pliers and resulting in a both painful, humiliating and arousing “sausage tie”, making the restricted orbs, with the purplish skin so taut it glistened, throb even visibly with each heartbeat. That still wasn’t the end though, but I used the cut-off syringe already used on my clit to suction the nipples, forced almost flat from the taut skin, until I could tie them tight around their bases with steel-wire and connect it to a TENS. Despite the voltage being moderate, the sensation was very intense when the electricity surged through the captive buds, and I quickly turned it off again, saving it for just before I would be too helpless to stop the torture. I hesitated some about the final addition, a couple of clover clamps with an attached 500 g weight each, which started feeling like it could be the straw breaking the camel’s back, together with the tight tie and electricity, but I decided to stick with the plan, although waiting to the very last minute before adding them as well.

When done with the core, I continued with my legs, wrapping a chain tight just above the knees, pinning my thighs together, and locking it with another padlock. Then I fastened another pair of leg irons around my ankles, shortened the connecting chain to about 20 cm with yet another padlock, also fastening it to the chain dangling from my waist belt, so short it forced me to stand in an awkward, squatting position.

Next was a gag, made by stuffing my mouth with a large foam wad, and then wrapping duct tape around the lower part of my face and behind my neck, keeping the wad deep and secure in my mouth, and sealing my lips and entire lower face. On top of it, I added a rubber gas mask, strapping it tight and securing the buckles, exchanged to lockable ones, with several small padlocks, hugging my face tight and soon sweaty, making the gag impossible to remove, obscuring my vision, making it harder to breathe, and giving me a bug-like appearance with its shape and glossy eyes. I also added a wide, stiff, padded leather collar around my neck, preventing me from moving my head much once it was locked in place. I looked at a last minute idea I had brought, couldn’t help by giggling behind my gag, but added it to my ensemble.

I cleaned up the place, tucked clothes, keys and a few other remains into the lockable bag, save for a few final additions, locked the bag with a chain and padlock, also fastening it to the base of a tree, mainly hidden by some plants, grass and leaves. Then, another pair of ankle irons went around my upper arms, just above my elbows, modified with a couple of zipties connecting the cuffs, giving me limited mobility with my arms and hands, but enough to finish what was left.

A pair of clover clamps went on my outer labia, attached from the rear, each with a chain long enough to leave the attached 500 g weight resting on the ground behind my feet. The pinch and tug on my labia was painful, but still quite manageable. A similar pair of clover clamps, but with shorter chains, was another matter when I attached them to my already abused nipples, the pain when the nipples were squeezed hard and weighted down so bad I hesitated a moment before biting down on the large wad in my mouth and leaving the clamps on. Next, I turned the vibe on my clit on high from the controller attached to my chain waist belt, and then the TENS controller also on the belt went on, sending intense surges of electricity through my already tortured nipples and breasts.

I needed to work fast now and take away the option to relieve myself from the intense nipple torture and maddening sensation on my clit, so I grabbed for the zipties on my elbow cuffs, found them and quickly pulled on them until the make-shift link had tightened so much my elbows were almost touching behind my back. Then my hands found the police cuffs locked to the rear of my waist belt, fumbled some making sure the key holes were towards my hands so they would be accessible once I got the keys, and then locked them tight on my wrists.

It was done, and I stood trembling, testing to see what I could do with my hands. I could neither reach the TENS or vibrator controller on my belt, nor the clamps on labia and nipples, or anything else that mattered. I was utterly helpless, not able to do much but move with tiny, mincing, squatting steps, something which made the weighted clamps on my nipples swing and pull painfully on the tortured nubs, and the weights from my labia yank on the soft folds whenever the weights rolled or got stuck in the vegetation.

Despite the pains, or perhaps partly thanks to them, the vibrator on my clit was quickly building arousal and pleasure, helping to sooth the torture, and giving me my first orgasm within minutes. The vibrations were so strong I figured people must hear them tens of meters away, but the truth was the vibe was so well embedded in tape and my fleshy folds that not even I heard much from it. A real problem was the gas mask though. It obscured my vision a lot more than I had noticed when I had played with it at home, making it a real challenge to try and keep track on if there was anyone near me so I needed to take cover.

My ankle restraints were also more wicked than I thought. Besides the short chain hobbling my steps and thereby pace, the ground was full of stones and gravel with sharp edges hidden under the grass, adding torture to the bare, unhardened soles of my city feet, and the minced steps also limited the options where I could go in the uneven terrain. On somewhat “nice” ground, I was able to move maybe 10 meters per minute, but I would probably need to make a lot of detours to avoid steps and steep slopes in the terrain, so the 800 meters round-trip to get the keys would probably in reality be more than twice that distance, and with the need to avoid and hide from people, the time required would probably be many hours instead of the theoretical optimum of about 1 1/2 hours.

I changed my plans already before getting out of the grove I started from, selecting a longer route but through a less frequented area than the one I had originally planned. There were enough bushes to offer decent hiding, but I soon realized trying to hide behind the bushes most of the times meant falling down, usually hurting limbs, breasts and even my crotch each time, and requiring time, effort and more pain to get back on my feet again, the way I was tied. I also realized the reason for the sparse visitors to the route I had chosen. The vegetation was no soft, well-moved lawn, but dry, hard, sharp straws, torturing my feet far more efficiently than the sharp-edged gravel and stones I had found before, and not nice to neither sit nor play on, not to mention falling down on and have my flesh almost skewered on it. It also caught the weights dragging from my labia again and again, resulting in painful yanks and stops.

I was absolutely exhausted before I had managed even half the distance on my detour to my keys, cursing my ambition and ingenuity, but still struggling on, and even if nice girls shouldn’t admit such, I was aroused, thrilled and in an odd way really enjoyed the way my walk in the park had developed so far, with my helplessness even more than I had imagined and the things I needed to endure because of it. Plus, the still frequent orgasms from the persistent vibe on my clit helped things along some as well.

I eventually reached the key stash, without having been spotted as far as I could tell, but cursed my ambition and ingenuity even more when I prepared to try and get the bag key, left tied with cord to the base of a tree crawling with big carpenter ants, forcing me to sit down with my butt and pussy right on their porch to get to the key. The ants were not happy about this forced visit, and I soon felt them crawling all over me, but especially in my lower regions, their strong jaws nipping hard at my sensitive folds and other places of interest. I was real grateful for the gasmask at least protecting me from having them crawling into my eyes, nose and mouth. Eventually, I got the key loose and managed to get back on my feet, shuffling away from the ant hangout as fast as I could. The ants didn’t leave me just because I left them, but I could feel them crawling and biting for quite some time when I was back on the road again. I’m no major fan of bestiality, but to be quite honest, the sensations of the ants gnawing away at my private parts were actually both thrilling and a bit exciting.

On my way back, I had a real scare when I suddenly became aware of a bunch of people just meters away from me. I froze at first and then dropped into the vegetation, which was high but fresh grass in that place, and I was very grateful both for its better hiding capacity and for its relative softness compared to the dry straws along most of the route. I couldn’t see the people but it sounded like they were just 3-4 meters from me, and when they stopped, so it felt like my heart did. They were discussing about which way to go, and after what seemed like an eternity, they agreed and their voices started getting weaker. I gasped for air, realizing I had stopped breathing for a minute or so.

I struggled back to my feet and turned to continue towards my freedom, suddenly face to face with two young women standing staring at me. Of fuck fuck fuck no no no, this wasn’t happening. One of the girls almost hissed “Christ! What the hell are you???” I couldn’t say anything but just stood, blushing furiously behind the gasmask, with thoughts of crowds, police and journalists rushing through my head. Then one of the girls took a step forward and reached out towards me, making me almost fall over backwards as I instinctively tried to back away from her. She took the make-shift sign attached to my collar, holding it between her thumb and index finger nails like it was poisonous, and read from it “I’m OK but lost a bet. Please be kind and just let me go.” She looked up at my face with an incredulous look and asked, “Is this for real???” I managed something resembling a nod, despite the stiff leather collar. “You don’t need any help?” I shook my head, or rather my upper body, no. “So we should just leave you as is?” Again, I tried to nod. “You are one crazy puppy, you know! But OK… Or wait!”

I had almost started to relax but froze again from her words. “She whipped up her cell phone, stepped up next to me and aimed for a selfie. “I sure as hell won’t post this but I need it for my records to know this really happened. Hey, you want in?” The last question was obviously for her friend, who shook her head vigorously and took a step back. “OK, say cheese!” I heard her cell phone click and whirr, and for a second felt very uncomfortable about the graphical evidence produced, but then realized the gasmask should make me impossible to identify even if the picture was posted. The girl stood staring at her cell phone, shook her head and let out a “Jeeezz! OK, I guess you better get going then. Have fun, and better luck with your bets in the future! Or, perhaps this was better luck for you?” She grinned at me and I still couldn’t answer but stood blushing furiously under the gasmask. Then I took an as deep breath as the gasmask and gag permitted, feeling how my heartbeat started calming down again, and slowly continued on my way. I never looked back but felt pretty sure the two girls stood staring at me for quite some time, and I was tremendously relieved and grateful I had gotten off that easy.

During the incident, I had somehow managed to shut out the sensations from the vibe on my clit, but now it was coming back to me, although I didn’t respond as strongly to it as in the beginning. Or perhaps it was the batteries wearing down. I still had a few more orgasms before I was back where I started, and the arousal dulled the torture from especially my nipples, but by now also from much of the rest of my body, not just my racked breasts and over-stretched pussy, ass and mouth, but also from a lot of muscles in my legs and lower body exhausted from the long, slow, crouched walk.

Finally I had made it back into the relative safety of the grove, found the locked bag still at the tree where I had left it, and sat down with a painful thump next to it to start on my release. The key to it was in my hand, so tightly grasped I probably would have an imprint of it in my palm for some time. I fumbled for the padlock on the bag with my hands locked behind my back and realized something was wrong. There was not one, but two, no three locks on the bag??? I squirmed around so I could look at the bag, and sure enough, there was two additional locks holding the chain besides my original one. What the fuck??? At first I was shocked, then I almost panicked, but then I noticed there were keys sticking out of the two additional locks. I didn’t understand how, but this had to be some kind of prank.

I squirmed back so my hands could get at the locks, found one of the new ones and tried to turn the key in it. The key didn’t move one bit. I tried pushing it in, in case it wasn’t properly inserted, but it still didn’t move. I pulled it out, pushed it in again and made another attempt, but still no go. I found the other new lock and tried that one. Same total lack of success. I then found the original lock, managed to fit the key into it, and it snapped open like a charm when I turned the key. I tried the new locks again, but still without any success. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!

I again squirmed around to inspect the locks. They looked solid, and there was no cheat in the way they were attached on the chain. If this was some prank, it was not funny anymore. I tried looking around to see if there was someone watching me. Maybe some kids having stumbled upon the bag and deciding to see if they could have some fun or whatever. But I saw no one. I again squirmed back to reach the locks with my hands, feeling panic start to build again. No luck with neither the first nor second lock. The keys didn’t turn at all, despite me pulling them out and pushing them in again and again, trying various depths, but to no avail.

Eventually I just sat there, trying to get to terms with that it was probably several hours left until rescue would arrive. Of course, I had the option to move out into the open and let myself be found, but the possibilities of what could happen after that were not all appealing. I was really fucked! And that realization and the forced acceptance of it, together with the vibe still insistent on my clit, the electricity still tormenting my nipples, and everything else contributing to my helplessness, humiliation and torture, built an incredibly strong sexual surge, physically starting as a rapidly growing and intensifying heat ball in my lower belly, exploding into wave after wave of intense sexual desire and sensations washing through my body, making me squirm, thrash and spasm again and again. This, the real helplessness and torture, out of my control, was what I desired and needed, and right now, this was the closest to it I had come in a very long time.

Eventually, the sensations faded, and I lay exhausted and shivering, trying to pant and gasp so hard it felt like the gag and gasmask would choke me. Slowly, my body calmed and relaxed, breathing back to a pace permitted. Then I thought I heard a voice, rather close by “You should try swapping the keys, sexy.” It was a strange voice, sounding like a woman trying to sound like a man, and despite I didn’t recognize it, there was something familiar about it. It took a little while for me to comprehend what it was actually saying, but then I got it and I cursed my own stupidity for not realizing it myself before. I got hold of the locks with still trembling fingers, pulled the keys out, put the keys of the first lock into the second, and it snapped open in an instant when I turned it. The same thing with the keys of the second lock when turned in the first lock. Of course! Stupid stupid stupid stupid!

I pried the bag open and found the key ring in it, identifying the handcuff key quickly but needing several minutes to find the keyhole, fit the key and turn it. The clasp opened and I could move one hand. Another minute and the other hand was free as well, but with my elbows tight behind my back, my abilities were still very limited. I dug in the bag and found the cutter, awkwardly wringing my arms until I could catch the ziptie on my elbow cuffs between the cutter jaws and cut it. My shoulders and upper arms hurt bad when the arms snapped out of the long forced and strained position, but I slowly stretched them back into life until the pain subsided.

I saw something moving at the edge of the obscured view that the gasmask offered, and when I looked that way I saw two shapes disappearing out from the shade of the grove into the sunlit open area surrounding it. I thought I heard a female giggle, and even though it was hard to tell with the gasmask lenses distorting my vision, the shapes looked like a man and a woman. I was pretty sure they were the pranksters, and I couldn’t decide if I should be mad at them for the prank, or grateful for that moment of real bliss when I accepted my fate, and for them sticking around to see me make it through, or possibly just to enjoy the show.

I continued freeing myself, first turning off the TENS and reducing the vibe on my clit to low. I still needed the soothing effect from the pleasure and arousal it brought, but I didn’t need the distraction of orgasms while struggling to free myself. The next things to go were the clamps on my nipples. I carefully grabbed them and then quickly opened them, pulling them off my nipples despite almost ripping off the skin that had more or less glued itself to the rubber padding of their jaws. I thrashed and screamed into the gag, tears running from my eyes, from the intense pain when full circulation and feel returned to the tortured buds. It took several minutes before I could continue and slowly untwist the steel-wire cutting into their bases. Like with the clamps, it felt like my skin was glued to the wire as I slowly tried to ease it off, but eventually my nipples were all free, still burning painfully though.

Next were the clamps on my labia. When released, a wave of pain swelled through my abdomen and made me again scream into my gag, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as my nipples, and soon I was ready to continue. I had decided to free my breasts next, needing the cutter I had used for my elbow tie, and had to fumble around some before I found it on the ground. The zipties were so tight and the flesh around them so swollen it was painful to get the cutter under them and try to make sure there was no wrinkle of skin caught in the jaws before snipping the zipties off. Each snip sent a wave of pain through my breast when the cut tie snapped open, but after the agony of my nipples and labia, it was not much. The leg iron cuffs around the breast bases were comparatively easy, even if it hurt too when the metal let go off the flesh it was so deeply embedded in and skin it seemed glued to.

I figured the worst was done now, and rewarded myself with a short rest before turning the vibes off and continuing with “operation temporary freedom”. Unlocking the buckles of the gasmask was a real ordeal, with a lot of trial and error to find and fit the right tiny keys into the right tiny padlocks. There were in total five of them, and it took more minutes than that before I could finally pull the damn contraption off my face. Sweat and condensation were more or less pouring from it, while I took my first deep, unhindered breath through my nose for a long time, almost overwhelmed by the scent of the surrounding nature, until now hidden by the chemical rubber smell of the mask.

The collar was fast and easy to unlock and remove, and then it took some time to unwind the duct tape holding my huge gag wad in, giving me enough time to start worrying about pulling the final wraps off my skin, but the fact was I was so sweaty under them that the adhesive had given up and it more or less slid off my skin. Getting the huge wad out of my mouth was an ordeal though, because somewhere along the road my saliva glands had given up, so the wad had almost dried and stuck to the insides of my mouth. It took quite some time to ease it off and get it out, but eventually my mouth was empty, and I lie back just breathing deeply and trying to move my stiff and aching jaw, desperately longing for something to drink and wet my mouth with, but which I of course hadn’t thought about when packing the bag.

The legs and feet were quickly freed, even if it took a few trials and error to find the right key to the thigh chain. The same thing with the padlock holding the chain tight through my crotch, but then came the ordeal of pulling the deeply buried thing out of its home between my labia and ass cheeks. Even if love juices and sweat had kept it lubricated, it had still chafed those areas pretty bad, making them very, very sensitive, but eventually it was loose, helped some by my aching and overstretched vagina expelling its huge invader, taking the chain with it, as soon as it got a chance. The large anal dilator did not come out by itself, but after some painful pulling and prying, my aching rear sphincter finally let go of it. Unlocking the final padlock behind my back took a bit of time and again trial and error before finding, fitting and turning the right key.

I dreaded the last detail to go, but slowly and as carefully as I could started trying to loosen the knot holding the tight tie from thin cord around the neck of my clit, not daring to use anything sharp down there to try and cut the cord. It actually wasn’t directly painful, but a very intense sensation as the cord nudged its chafed imprint on the very sensitive nub with every little move I caused, and a sensation I really didn’t desire now that I had more or less landed after the ordeal. But once I had managed to loosen the tight knot, the cord came off with surprising ease and lack of pain, well lubed and almost dripping from my juices.

I lay there for quite some time, totally nude and free, aching and hurting in a lot of places, but enjoying the luxury of moving my limbs freely and the scents from the surrounding nature. I was sticky and no doubt reeking from stale sweat, and what I saw of myself was scratched and marked from probably mostly the hard and sharp straws I had moved through and fallen on during my ordeal, with small lacerations every here and there. The metal cuffs, chains and zipties had left horrific imprints not just on my breasts, but also around my limbs, waist and abdomen. Yes, I would have memories of this for quite some time, both in my mind and physically, and I was actually very happy and satisfied about it.

Slowly, I pulled myself together and started cleaning up the mess. I took my clothes out of my bag, but didn’t want to dress before I was done collecting and stashing all the things spread around me. It was a nice, almost slightly arousing feeling of freedom, being exposed and being a bit naughty, doing my chores like that with other, unknowing, people just a few tens of meters away on the lawn outside the grove. Eventually, I had nothing left to do but pulling on my clothes. Despite the rather warm weather, I had realized short sleeves and bare legs were probably not the best after the session, but had come dressed in a long sleeve blouse and a pair of full-length jeans, a light scarf around my neck, and high heel fashion boots. My nipples were not happy about neither the bra nor the blouse, my crotch had some things to say about the rather tight jeans, and my feet, especially their soles, would definitely have preferred something more dull than the fashion boots, but eventually I was dressed and somewhat decent again.

I used my cell phone to send the all clear message to my informed friend, not very surprised when I saw I had been busy in the park for almost 6 hours: “Free now”, hesitated some and the added “as you know”. She must have been sitting on the phone waiting, because I saw her starting texting back almost immediately: “Yes 13 h session made me wonder and needed to check u not nuts. Couldnt resist the little prank. Hope u and were ok. U so lovely and hot sexy” I couldn’t help but giggling a bit relieved from her answer, and replied: “We’re ok. No 2 your boyfriend? Not quite cool you know.” She replied: “Sorry but he had plans and i needed to bribe him to check on u. He shopped the padlocks so a token of his like. U gave him ideas so ill pay if any comfort” I was still thinking on how to reply when she added: “Also i saw u got what u needed good so u should thank us” Fuck, she was right and I blushed from knowing how obvious it and I were. I still replied: “I get the ideas. You get the fun. Very comforting! /pouts. But yes, thanks. Need to go now. Bye.” She replied “Ok bye”

I used the phone to check my appearance, not that I could do much about it without bringing any makeup, and almost gasped at the sight of my face imprinted from the gasmask. Fuck! I would definitely need to avoid close-up encounters for some time. I was happy I had done all the shopping for the weekend yesterday already, so I could cocoon at home, and hopefully most would have faded until Monday, any remains possible to cover with makeup. I should really be all drained now after the both mentally and physically tough ordeal, the scare from the close encounter, the intense climax from the prank, and all the aches and pains I suffered now, but as I headed for the car and then home, my body felt very much alive and tingling, almost longing for more. Yes, I guess the girl I met in the park was right, I was one crazy puppy. That thought made me sit giggling to myself much of the way home.

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.