Adventure with corset and plug, part 2
Dec 21
One bench directly faced the place when I would have to sit to recover the key and this was always occupied. After a while my feet began to hurt and I needed to sit down. The ledge in front of the key seemed a little high. I judged that people would be able to look up my mini skirt and see Big Bertha, so I continued walking. But on my next circuit I was delighted to see that the bench was empty. Unfortunately there were still too many shoppers walking by to attempt to recover the key. I decided to sit down on the bench and wait for an opportunity. Holding my knees together to grasp Big Bertha with my thighs, I carefully sat down. The pain was instantaneous. The sudden pressure on Cindy and the butt plug sent pains shooting into me. This was real pain, not the gentler arousing kind. Still holding my knees tightly together, I shifted my weight to one cheek. This helped and the shooting pains subsided, but pain from Cindy continued.
I selected a loose top that concealed Cindy’s bulges, and then applied my makeup. Following the spirit of my script, which indicated that my attire should be seductive and draw attention, I used a much brighter red lipstick than usual. I brushed my hair and reexamined myself in the mirror. The leotards had flattened my breasts, and that, in combination with the loose top, didn’t do much for me. The main point of attraction was going to be my legs. The bright red lipstick seemed out of place, so, reasoning that it would draw attention away from my legs, I wiped it off and applied a darker shade.
I was now ready to face the world. The feel of Big Bertha, no longer cold, between my thighs was interesting, but not as arousing as I had hoped. But my high heels and mini skirt made me feel sexy and attractive. Not that I actually wanted to meet anyone, I wanted to think of myself as sexually desirable but unattainable. Cindy and Big Bertha would certainly help ensure the latter.
Downstairs again, I emptied my pocket book of everything except my car keys, house keys, and tissues. Without identification or money I wouldn’t be able to buy myself out of this adventure. I planned to drive particularly carefully to avoid all possibility of a traffic ticket.
Sitting down to drive was uncomfortable. I pulled Big Bertha forward and opened my legs to relieve the pressure. My skirt rode up revealing Big Bertha to anyone who cared to look into the car. Cindy pressed into my crotch and on my butt plug. Driving was a novel experience holding my knees apart and using my high heels on the pedals. I drove carefully to the mall with the growing realization that this adventure must not last too long due to the growing discomfort from Cindy.
Because of Big Bertha, I decided to enter the Mall at the lower level. I could not go up or down stairs or elevators without exposing myself. The hem of my skirt had to remain below eye level. I drove around and parked opposite one of the lower level entrances to J. C. Penney’s. Here I encountered my first real difficulty; there seemed to be no way to get out of the car without exposing Big Bertha. After waiting for a few minutes and then using the car door as a shield, I inelegantly but successfully stood up without anyone being able to see. I pulled my skirt down then closed and locked the car door. I walked self-consciously towards the Mall entrance, but gained confidence when I realized that no one seemed to looking at me. As I walked I felt Big Bertha rub against my thighs, and instinctively smoothed my skirt down again.
I entered J. C. Penney’s and began the long walk through the Mall towards the center court. I had deliberately chosen a parking spot that required me to walk the greatest distance. To my relief, I discovered that I was not the object of attention I had feared. I began to feel disappointed that this was going to be too easy. The only person who seemed to take any interest in me was an older woman in a burgundy flowered dress who stared at me with a suspicious scowl. She even stopped walking, as if to concentrate more power into her scowl. I avoided eye contact and continued on towards the court. I didn’t dare turn my head and look behind me. I wondered if any men were staring at my backside, or if anyone suspected the presence of Big Bertha.
When I reached the center court, I saw immediately that there were too many people around for me to retrieve the key unobserved. I had deliberately avoided thinking out the details of retrieving the key until now. Once an accessible method of escape from bondage is discovered, it ceases to be exciting. The way to maximize the excitement is to enter bondage without knowing exactly how one is going to get free, then enjoy the feeling of helplessness until a solution is found. This can, of course, be very dangerous. But in the present situation the danger was not physical, only one of embarrassment.
If I stood and leaned forward to retrieve the key, Big Bertha would be very visible from behind. Likewise, if I sat on the ledge and leaned back, she would be visible from the front. Even sitting sideways didn’t seem possible, I would have to lift one leg up and this too would expose Big Bertha. I thought about holding my pocket book on my thighs to conceal Big Bertha while I leaned back to retrieve the key with the other hand. But, because of the corset, I would need both hands to get the key, one to support my body while the other reached for the key. With only one hand I would certainly lose my balance and fall back. This would both reveal Big Bertha to the world and prompt people to come to my aid. I concluded that I had no alternative but wait until there were no people on that side of the court.
I suddenly thought about security cameras. Even if there was nobody in the court, I might be visible to others. Anxiously I scanned the balconies and ceiling nearby and was slightly reassured to find no sign of any cameras.
Since there were still too many people around, I continued walking. I went into several shops and returned to the court periodically, but it was always too crowded.
One bench directly faced the place when I would have to sit to recover the key and this was always occupied. After a while my feet began to hurt and I needed to sit down. The ledge in front of the key seemed a little high. I judged that people would be able to look up my mini skirt and see Big Bertha, so I continued walking. But on my next circuit I was delighted to see that the bench was empty. Unfortunately there were still too many shoppers walking by to attempt to recover the key. I decided to sit down on the bench and wait for an opportunity. Holding my knees together to grasp Big Bertha with my thighs, I carefully sat down. The pain was instantaneous. The sudden pressure on Cindy and the butt plug sent pains shooting into me. This was real pain, not the gentler arousing kind. Still holding my knees tightly together, I shifted my weight to one cheek. This helped and the shooting pains subsided, but pain from Cindy continued. I found myself holding my breath to relieve the pain, and breathed in short gasps that I hoped were inaudible. I placed my pocket book on my lap to conceal Big Bertha from passersby.
Almost immediately a gray-haired lady carrying a large shopping bag sat down on the other end of the bench. She glanced at me and smiled. I could not return the smile; I was trying too hard to control the pain and my breathing. She looked away.
I sat for a while holding my thighs together. Although this certainly relieved the discomfort in my feet, the extra pain seemed hardly worth the effort. But I decided to remain seated to see if the old lady would leave and give me an opportunity to retrieve the key. Holding my thighs together while sitting on one cheek soon began to prove tiresome, so I wondered if I could cross my legs. I immediately dismissed the thought since that would expose Big Bertha below my raised thigh.
The old lady did not leave. Instead a balding middle-aged man came and sat between us. I wondered why he had chosen this particular bench to sit; there wasn’t that much room. Perhaps he was attracted by my legs. Fortunately he didn’t look at me or attempt conversation.
I began to feel ridiculous. Here I was sitting with acute pain alternating with severe discomfort, waiting for an opportunity that probably would not occur and which I did not need. All I had to do, I realized, was drive home, get a longer skirt, and return.
So I got up, smoothed my skirt down, and left. I walked slowly back to the car, slowly because the pain did not completely abate. Sitting down in the car was torture, and the agony was compounded on the drive home by the thoughts that I had failed to accomplish my objective, that the objective was stupid, and that I was crazy to inflict this torture on myself.
Once inside the house I reached down and pulled on Cindy seeking to relieve the pain. I could not reach the butt plug properly since my corset prevented me from twisting my body. I could not safely remove my corset with Cindy in place without damaging it, and this I was reluctant to do. Finally I was able to get some relief by lying face down on the bed and pulling Cindy down hard. I lay for a while to recover and plotted my next move. I would change into a longer skirt, put on more sensible shoes, redo my makeup and return to the mall to retrieve the key. I would defer consideration of any punishment for my failure to a later time.
I carried out this plan without incident, except that I could not resist putting a soft cushion on the car seat to reduce the pain of sitting. Once home, I removed my outer clothes and padlocks, then carefully loosened Cindy till I could step out of her. What a relief! I removed my corset, leotard and bra, and then stepped into the shower to remove my big butt plug. This was, as usual, a messy affair, but a long hot shower washed away the mess and soothed some of my discomfort.
I lay naked on my bed with my legs apart to ease the soreness, and pondered the day’s events. The fear of public discovery had been exciting in prospect, but worrying in actuality. The bondage promised to be arousing, but produced only pain. Neither brought me anywhere close to an orgasm let alone heightened arousal. It all seemed pointless. I resolved never to do public bondage again since my continual need for change and heightened sensation would eventually make it dangerous or certain of discovery. This could end my career, and that was perhaps the one thing in my life that seemed sane and valuable.
I masturbated to console myself and then fell asleep.
When I awoke it was getting dark. I still had a key to retrieve, so I decided to get dressed and drive to Keystone Mall. But first I needed some food. I threw on my satin nightgown (I still love its feel on my bare skin) and descended to the kitchen.
While drinking my coffee my thoughts returned to the events of the day. What a big disappointment it had turned out to be. As I thought over my original plan, I realized it had been grossly defective. Not only had it failed to produce sexual satisfaction, but it was deficient even as a pure bondage scenario. It had allowed me an easy way out. I should have hidden my spare car keys along with Big Bertha’s keys, and then left my car key inside my car when I got out and locked it. That would have forced me to stick to my original plan of retrieving Big Bertha’s key. Without any form of identification or money it would have been impossible to get anyone to open my car, unless I tried to use my powers of seduction, and I didn’t dare try that with Big Bertha hanging between my thighs.
I realized that this need of mine to present myself with ever-tougher challenges would inexorably and inevitably lead to catastrophe. The most likely outcome would be to ruin my career, but it might even kill me. I determined to stop this progression before it had gone too far. I resolved never to make public exposure or embarrassment part of my adventures. It might be acceptable to be in bondage while in public, but I must not be forced to expose my condition. I felt relieved at this resolution; I felt that I had found a workable compromise between my sanity and my compulsion, a win-win solution as my coworkers would say.
I decided that there was no real need to go to Keystone Mall to retrieve the second key that day. I had all of the following day. With the pressure of immediate action removed, my deranged mind began cranking out plans, and I was powerless to stop it. It decided that I had to be severely punished for the failure in Avonbridge Mall; I would have to spend the night in strenuous bondage.
Tags: butt plug, corset bondage, pain self bondage, self bondage
