Caught

Caught

By                Ed Kilpatrick

E-mail:        Edkbound@gmail.com

                                                                       

It was always my worst nightmare to get caught in self-bondage, especially while experimenting with cross-dressing.  This short story explains how I got caught while enduring in one of my favourite pastimes.

My experimentations into bondage cross-dressing grew over the years from a teenager into my twenties and now my thirties.  This story takes me back to my very late twenties and during my first marriage to Karen. I’ve changed the names to protect my first wife who I no longer keep in touch with.  Karen used to go out every Saturday morning at the local community centre, where she looked after teenagers.  After the mornings activities she sometimes went to the pub with her friends and this particular afternoon back in 1996, she explained that she was going to the pub and would be back around four thirty. Fantastic, this would give me ample time to partake in a little self-indulgence.

I liked to clean up our house on a Saturday morning while Karen was out and sometimes I would cross-dress while doing my weekly chores.  This particular Saturday was nothing too different and once I was up and showered, I took out my special box. Today I took out a white silk padded bra and tight hold up silk panties. I love how the shiny material felt against my naked skin.  I never really liked the idea of shaving my legs so I enjoyed nothing more than pulling on a pair of thick 90d black, Lycra tights or pantyhose as you Americans like to call them.  I really loved how the soft material felt as my legs rubbed against each other.  Next I padded out the bra with a few rolled up sports socks before I pulled on a soft wool sweater dress.  I had managed to purchase a pair of large sized leather pumps from the Internet a few months before and they looked really good against the black Lycra cladding of my legs.  Next came a very long, blue cashmere scarf. I don’t know what it is about scarves but they always deliver up the idea of bondage when I see a scarf tied around a girl’s neck. This morning I simply wound the scarf once around my neck and left the two ends dangling across my now ample sized chest.  Finally came a long, straight blonde wig, which finished off my female look for this morning.  Before I went downstairs to start vacuuming I always liked to add a little bondage at this point. Nothing too restrictive as I really needed to get some housework done, while Karen was out.  As usual I simply took out my leg-irons and locked each over-sized cuff around my Lycra covered ankles which would enable me to move about the house fairly freely and at the same time I would be reminded that I was wearing a little bondage.  Nothing too unusual so far this morning as I went about my chores dressed like a slightly overweight housewife.  I enjoyed the thrill of wearing these cloths especially as my wife knew nothing of my kinky perversions for cross-dressing.

About two hours later I was finished and as I still had about three hours to myself, I decided to retreat upstairs and put myself into some much more restrictive bondage.  I had experimented with ice-cubes before to secure myself for longer lengths of self imprisonment but today I simply wanted to tease myself for an hour or so and then let myself out before complete torment.

I went back to my box of goodies and retrieved a simple pair of S&W American police handcuffs. Before handcuffing myself I added a little more restriction by removing one of my leg-irons winding the chain around the centre post of the bed before re-cuffing my ankle.  I placed the handcuff key at the corner of the bed to add some additional challenges and so my cashmere scarf didn’t fall off, I tied a loose knot in it.  I was now ready to cuff my hands behind my back.  Within a few clicks I was now lying on my side on the bed in complete self-pleasure.  I could rub my thighs together offering ample stimulation at the same time fantasising as the soft Lycra slowly heated my legs.

I must have being lying on the bed only about fifteen minutes when I heard the front door open and Karen calling my name.  She shouted up to let me know she had forgotten her purse and she need some cash before going to the pub.  I panicked, trying to turn around and manoeuvre my cuffed hands towards the keys, which were lying about three feet away from my hands.  I was pulling against the leg-irons that were attached the foot of the bed.  I began to sweat as my panic turned into blind fear as Karen’s footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs.

“Oh no you don’t,” Karen yelled as she raced across the bedroom to grab the keys, which by now were only inches from my reach!

“Don’t worry my dear, I already know about your little perverted, Damsel in distress fantasies.  I knew it was only a matter of time until I caught you and boy I have I caught you!” 

Karen then went on to explain that she hadn’t time to discuss the situation right now as she was expected in the pub in ten minutes but she would only be gone about two hours. She leant over to give me a kiss and rubbed her hand along my Lycra clad thighs and up under the skirt of the woollen sweater dress.

“Don’t go anywhere now big boy as we’ve have a lot to talk about when I return?”

Before leaving me Karen untied the long blue cashmere scarf, tied a knot in the middle of it before pushing the knot into my mouth and tying the scarf tightly behind my head, effectively cleave gagging me. She lifted her purse and left the house, closing the front door behind her.

The next couple of hours were going to be the longest of my life.  I was so horny and nothing I could do about it with my hands tightly cuffed behind my back.  Yelling wasn’t an option with the thick cashmere scarf tightly gagging me; no escape from my current position with the chain of my leg-irons wound once around the footboard of the bed.  I only could contemplate what Karen would do when she returned home.  How had I let myself get into this situation?  I had always tried so hard not to get caught and now my worst nightmare was a reality.

By the time Karen returned my whole body was aching from nearly three hours of bondage.  My jaw was in agony from around two and a half hours of gagging.  Soaked in drool I knew my face wouldn’t be a pretty sight.

“Nice to see you didn’t go anyway my dear,” explained Karen when she finally returned to the bedroom. 

She sat on the bed beside me asking me what she should do with me, now she had me in the worst position I could have got myself into.  All I could do was MUMPH into the gag in reply but she just looked at me with the most evil smile I had ever seen.