Judith Swanson is an often bored housewife who turns to self-bondage as a way of bringing excitement to her life. When she takes advantage of her husband’s fishing weekend to try out one of her fantasies, however, things become a little... complicated.
WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2020 by The Technician ([email protected] ).
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Ron and I have a great sex life... when he’s here. But he’s a construction worker and is gone a lot during the week. Even when the jobs are nearby and he doesn’t have to spend Sunday through Thursday at some cheap motel, he is gone from before sunup to after sundown.
I liked it better when he was just a precision welder. But then he got a promotion. Now, in addition to being a precision welder, he is a weld inspector. They offered him a big title if he became just the Weld Quality Control Officer for the company, but he knew that would be a salaried position with just as many– or more– hours, but only half or three-quarters the pay. So he continues to weld occasionally just to keep his skills and certifications and spends most of his hours running a bead with his initials alongside weld after weld that he inspects.
I really look forward to our weekends together. I’m a very needy woman when it comes to sex, and fingers and toys can only do so much. Also I have some... special needs... when it comes to sex. Regular sex is good. Sometimes regular sex is great. But nothing compares to being tied up or tied down while Ron has his way with me.
Once I am tied up, he can do anything he wants with me– except pain. I’m not into that. I like being restrained, but no whippings or canings or stuff like that. An occasional light spanking if I am already all turned on is OK. In fact, it can take me higher. But for the most part I just like to be tied up. Living way out in the country means that Ron can even tie me up outside if we are on the back of our property or in the woods that we own.
I have my own favorite spot with two trees that are just the right distance apart with limbs that practically overlap each other just the right height off the ground. Ron can tie me standing between the trees and then force my ankles wide apart by tying them to some dog leash stakes that he screwed into the ground there. Then I can stand looking out into the woods while Ron takes me from the front or from the back. Sometimes he just ties me there and plays with me and then leaves me hanging– literally– for a while. By the time he gets back I’m ready to fuck anyone or anything.
He always sets up a trail camera like hunters use for keeping track of deer on trails. It connects to the wifi back at the house. He says that’s so he can make sure I’m safe, but I think he gets pretty stirred up watching me squirm. It has sound, so he can hear me begging him if he leaves me out there too long... and he hasn’t gagged me.
Ron understands all my needs and what I will and won’t do. In all the years we have been married... and for a few years before that, I’ve never had to use my safeword, “Kemppi.” Kemppi is the name of a company that makes welding stuff. Ron had one of their catalogs in his apartment when we were first getting kinky and I thought it was a silly word that I would never accidentally use. The only time I intentionally use it is when Ron asks me what my safeword is before we start an intense session.
Anyway, Ron is working a local job... well relatively local. It is about an hour from home if you took the freeway. Then it is about five miles back to the actual site where they are building this brand new factory of some sort. Ron took me out there once to show me where the buildings would be going up. It’s a local job, but he’s still gone at least twelve hours a day.
I was really looking forward to some weekend relief, when he called me up in the middle of the day on Thursday and asked if I would mind if he went up to the lake with a couple of the guys for some fishing. They were rigging a new crane or something on the jobsite, so they would be getting off at noon on Friday. That meant he could go up to the lake with the guys Friday night, fish all day Saturday, and come back Sunday afternoon.
My body really wanted me to say, “No, I need you,” but he loves to fish and doesn’t get much time to do that either. I swallowed hard, then my mind and my love for him overruled my body and I said, “OK.”
Friday night as I was laying in bed alone, a wonderfully wicked idea came into my mind. A year or so ago, I saw this video on line of a woman tied up naked in the back of a pickup truck as it went down the highway. Ever since then I have imagined myself tied up in the back of Ron’s work truck as he goes down the road.
His truck is bigger than a normal pickup. It’s a Ford F450 with what he calls a service bed. I can always tell it is his truck parked on the jobsite because it has a liftgate on the back. When it is folded up in the storage position, it is exactly the same height as the toolboxes rather than being one of those really short tailgates like most of the other trucks like that have. Ron says he needs the liftgate for two reasons. One, to lower his portable welder down out of the truck bed. And two, to hide everything he throws up in the bed with his big welder.
I have often fantasized about being tied up in that truck bed, and this weekend, I could more than fantasize. Both of Ron’s welders were somewhere up on the forth or fifth floor of the factory building. The bed between the big toolboxes was empty. And in many strategic spots on the floor and on the side walls there were recessed, hinged D-rings that Ron normally used to tie down the two welders and other stuff he carried in his truck. He always parked under the big tree alongside the garage, so I didn’t have to worry about getting sunburned. I could tie myself down in the back of the truck and close my eyes and imagine that we were going down the road just like in that video.
This wasn’t my first time doing self-bondage, so I didn’t have to buy anything or learn how to use the automatic release locks or anything like that. All I had to do was put my vibrators and gags where they needed to be, lock myself in place, and ride out as many orgasms as my batteries could give me.
Early Saturday morning... OK, somewhere around ten on Saturday morning, I finally got out of bed and pulled my goodie bag out of the bedroom closet. It’s an oversized gym bag where I store all my bondage gear. I sat at the kitchen table and put fresh batteries in everything, and then, still naked, I headed out to the truck.
With the lift tailgate up and in place it wasn’t easy to get into the back. I had to open the driver’s side door and then climb up using the step and the seat to climb up over the front corner of the toolbox sides. I set my goodie bag on the top of the wide toolbox and sort of stood on the seat to look into the place of my fantasy.
Fantasy met reality for the first time that afternoon. Inside the truckbed were several small piles of broken tools and welding rod stubs. In addition, there was a layer of dirt and gravel picked up from various jobsites scattered all over the floor. I went back into the house to get a broom, a bucket, and the thick blanket that we use when we picnic down by the lake.
I climbed down into the bed and picked up everything big enough to pick up and swept up the rest. It took three buckets full– and three trips in and out of the truck bed– before I had everything cleaned out. By then I was all sweaty and grimy, but I really didn’t want to track things back through the house to the shower. I wasn’t worried about getting really clean because I was going to end up all sweaty by the time this was over anyway, but I didn’t want to start off with sand and gravel stuck to my skin. So, I rinsed my body off with the hose. Brrrr!
I figured I would dry in the sun as I finished setting everything up. I climbed back up into the truck bed for what I hoped would be the final time and laid out the blanket. It would provide a little padding and would make sure I didn’t get covered once again in sand or dirt. Then I opened my goodie bag and started setting out my gear.
As soon as I pulled my ball gag out of the bag, I put it in place. It is a safety gag with air holes and all that so I can’t choke. If Ron and I are playing, he will sometimes use a solid ball– he thinks that is sexier– or will even use a penis gag, but he insists that if I am playing alone I stick with the safety versions.
I had already decided that I was going to lay with my head toward the back of the truck like the woman in the video. I think that was done so the driver had a straight-in view of her gaping cunt between her widely spread legs as he drove down the road. My cunt wouldn’t really be visible, but I wouldn’t really be going down the road either.
I connected my “pull sticks” to D-links on the floor near the front of the bed. My pull sticks are spring-loaded devices about five feet long when extended, but only a little over two feet when fully released. Ron had one of his machinist buddies build them for me. I think he told them he was going to use them for something up at our cabin or something. I have to use one of Ron’s electric winches out in the garage to pull them open, but they aren’t so strong that they would tear me apart or anything. Once I have them pulled open, I fold over this little latch thing and stick a steel pin in a slot. It kind of looks like a miniature mousetrap on the side of the stick. To activate it, all I have to do is pull the pin and release the spring. They will pull my ropes up to two feet shorter and hold me really tight.
I connected my ropes to the pull sticks using my time release locks and then carefully threaded them through the D-rings that were mounted about half-way up the walls at the back next to the liftgate. I used two locks– one on each side, both set to five hours– just in case something went wrong. Worst case, I would end up stuck in the back of the truck until Ron got home from his fishing trip, but I really didn’t want to spend a day and a half stuck there. And besides, if I wasn’t careful, Ron would take away my toys until I promised to do everything the safe way.
Next I used threaded quick links to attach short lengths of chain to two more D-rings at the same height at the front corners. After I wrapped restraint cuffs around my ankles, I lay down on the blanket and checked to see that everything– meaning me– was going to fit. After lifting my legs up towards the chains and holding my hands where I thought they were going to be, I connected a snap connector three links up on each of the chains. It was going to be difficult to finally snap things into place once I was all prepared, but I was pretty sure I could do it.
I tied the ends of the ropes to a set of wrist restraints and then lay down once again to see if things would fit. After skooching around a little to put my feet in the proper place, I held my hands together over my head to see if I would be able to put on the wrist restraints. They are Velcro closures and as long as I can get my hands together, I can put them on... or take them off. Once the pull sticks were activated, however, I would definitely not be able to bring my hands together until the locks released the ropes. I took off the wrist restraints and adjusted the ropes about three inches tighter. All was ready.
“Time to light me up,” I said aloud as I reached into the bag for my vibrators. Both the anal plug and the dildo that I chose have electronic systems that can be controlled by a smartphone. I already had it programmed, so I switched the plug on, smeared a little lube over it and squatted down to push it in place.
For some reason I was having a hard time relaxing enough to get it to go in. I was reaching down between my legs and pushing really hard when I lost my balance and fell backwards... onto my butt. Needless to say, it popped into place.
I didn’t have to lubricate the dildo. It slid easily into place in my already well-lubricated love tunnel. I have never had a problem with a lack of lubrication. In fact, sometimes I am so over-lubricated that Ron has a hard time cumming. When that happens, he has to use the back door to get relief. Sometimes I think that my body intentionally pours out the excess lubrication just so he will take me in the backside.
The downside of such good lubricating abilities is that I can’t keep a vibrator in place unless I use a special thong or harness... or a spreader T-bar. A spreader bar holds your legs wide apart. A spreader T-bar holds your legs wide spread while at the same time reaching up and pushing something against– or into– your crotch. If I didn’t already have a dildo and an anal plug in place, I could have used one of those heads for the T-bar. Instead, I used the C-shaped head that sort of grabs my entire crotch and pushes whatever is already in my ass and cunt deeper into place and holds it there.
Both the spreader bar and the T-bar portion of it are adjustable and can be pulled out easily, but lock into place and have to be released to collapse back. I clipped the spreader to my ankle cuffs and snapped my legs out as hard as I could. I could hear the bar clicking as my legs opened... and stayed in place.
Now it was time for the hard part. I had to do a crunch with the spreader bar in place and snap my ankle restraints to the chain. I had figured out from doing something like this once before that the easiest way to do it was to lift up my right ankle and sort of bend over sideways to get it connected. Then once it was connected, I pulled myself down– or in this case up– my left leg and after a lot of grunting and straining got it clipped into place.
The T-bar, meanwhile, was flopping around between my legs. I reached down and pulled it up against my cunt. I arched my back slightly, lifting my body into the air while I pushed my feet outward from my body as best as I could and held the bar against my crotch. My shoulders slid against the blanket and again I heard clicking. When I stopped moving, I could feel the padded, C-shaped top of the T-bar pushing hard against my cunt and ass. Nothing was falling out until I released the T-bar. Now all I had to do was get my hands into the wristcuffs.
I thought I could easily reach the cuffs laying on the floor, but I had to grunt and stretch to get them. I got the right one first and pulled it over so I could hold it in place under my shoulder. Then I went after the left one. I had the straps in place, but loose on the Velcro closures, so all I had to do was push my hand through the cuff and then pull it tight with the other hand.
Left hand was successful, but the effort of doing it caused me to roll up and release the other cuff. It took a whole lot of grunting and stretching to grab hold of it again. Finally I got it with my right hand, transferred it to my left and pushed my right hand through it. A quick pull on the two Velcro tabs and I was in place.
I lay there all sweaty and panting for a few moments. I was tied up in the back of Ron’s truck! I was almost in heaven. But I don’t like to just be tied up. I like to be tied up tight! The activation strings for the pull sticks were tied to the ends of the ropes. I twisted my hands around and began bunching the string up through my fingers. Once I had all the slack out of it, all I had to do was bring my arms back together and the pull sticks would spring tight. I heard myself saying, “One... two... three!” and my arms slammed together and then sprang back apart as the ropes snapped to tight... really tight. The ropes pulled my hands up and closer to the liftgate. My ass was pulled backward on the blanket. I was now held very tight. My ass was still on the floor of the truck bed, but not by much.
I only had the chance for two deep breaths before my vibrators kicked on. The vibrator I had chosen for the front was one of my favorites. It hummed like a truck engine going up a hill and the tip of it also wobbles around occasionally grazing my G-spot and driving me even higher. The anal plug also vibrated, or more accurately, it jack-hammered. Rather than having something that spun offcenter creating vibrations, it had a solenoid type thing that rammed up and down so that it almost felt like someone was rapping on it with a hammer. My first orgasm was almost instantaneous.
The app on my phone apparently listens to my responses because as soon as I had peaked, it cut things back to a mild purr. Then it went into its regular programming, ramping one or the other vibrator up and taking it back down at irregular intervals. Sometimes they would come into sync and both be off at the same time or both be on full at the same time. The sensations seemed to move around in my body– or at least around in my pelvis. That combined with the way I was tied kept me pretty disoriented and pretty soon I was out somewhere in La La Land.
I had gone through five or six orgasmic cycles when suddenly I heard the sound of Ron’s truck pulling into the driveway. That brought me back to reality right away. I knew it was his truck because he has those loud exhausts which I hate but have given up telling him about.
He drove rapidly up to the house, pulled in next to his work truck and then ran into the house. I heard him yelling, “It’s me babe. Something major came up at work. Be back in a couple hours.”
I tried to yell “No, no, NO!” but all that came out with the gag in place was “uh, uh, uh.”
I nearly peed myself with fear when he came running back out of the house and jumped into the cab of the truck. He started the engine and roared back out spraying gravel all the way down the driveway. I was screaming the whole way down the driveway, but when we hit the hardroad and started for the interstate I suddenly realized that this was exactly what I had been fantasizing about. I shuddered and thrashed in orgasm... and my vibrators were just barely purring.
Whatever was going on at work must have been really important because he was speeding all the way to the interstate and he normally drives really carefully in his work truck.. When we went down the ramp and into traffic, I realized that most people in cars and pickup trucks wouldn’t be able to see me at all, but the semi drivers could see over the top of the tall tool cases. There must have been a dozen truckers who got a good look at me. I heard a couple of loud horns, but Ron was intent on getting to work and thought they were honking at him for cutting them too close or speeding past them.
I tried to keep track of where we were, but the programming on my vibrators kept kicking in and its sort of hard to concentrate on anything when your G-spot is on fire and something is jackhammering away in your ass. About three orgasms down the road, we slowed and started up a bumpy country road. At first I thought we were on the wrong road because when Ron took me out to the job site right after they started, the road was smooth. Then I remembered that he said that the company building the factory was going to have to pay for a new road because of the added traffic volume and because “the heavy trucks are going tear the shit out of this road.”
They had, and the almost extreme bouncing was driving the T-bar up into my crotch and practically forcing the butt plug all the way into my ass. I didn’t know how I could stand it much longer but then Ron suddenly slowed and pulled across a wide gravel area and headed toward the framework of a tall building with one of those building cranes standing next to it.
Someone ran up to the truck as he stopped and said something to Ron. Ron yelled back at him, “Well if they had said they had to weld the stabilizer frame to the deck supports I wouldn’t have gone fishing and they wouldn’t have had to wait for me.”
I lay there trying to get my breath. Then I noticed a yellow hard hat sticking over the edge of the upper floor. I could barely make out his face, but he could definitely see me. A few moments later two more hardhats stuck out over the edge. Someone was pointing down at me. I was thinking that I could never be more embarrassed but I was wrong. Both vibrators decided it was time to kick in on high at the same time. I didn’t think I got off on humiliation either, but evidently I was wrong about that too because I could feel my body physically raising up off the floor of the truck bed as I pulled against all my bonds and convulsed in a wonderfully extreme orgasm.
I didn’t realize how far up in the air I was holding myself until my body suddenly relaxed and I came crashing back down with what I thought was an extremely loud thump. When I looked back up at the building, the hardhats had all disappeared. I lay there panting until the vibrators turned back on. This time they were at a much lower level, but I still had a very pleasant little orgasm.
I think it was about fifteen minutes later that Ron came back out and got into the truck. He drove much slower on the way back. That was much more comfortable, but it meant that a couple of semis were able to get alongside us and run with us for several miles. He went even slower once he got onto the road that leads back to our house.
I tried to stay as quiet as possible after he pulled into the yard. He stopped beneath the tree where the truck had been before. I heard him walk back over to the house, open the door and shout, “I’m going back out to the lake and see if I can get in a little night fishing, see you tomorrow afternoon.” As he walked back to his truck he slapped the side of his work truck and said in a firm voice, “And by tomorrow I hope you have an explanation to the text I received from Tom on the way back. It said ‘Sorry about pulling you away from your fishing. But next time you really should leave your catch at home.’” He paused and then said, “Tom also said he would delete the security camera footage after making a copy for personal use for him and for me. He will make a note in the logs saying the system was interrupted while erecting the crane.” He then slapped the side of the truck again and said curtly, “See you tomorrow.”
A few minutes later I heard his truck drive away. Two hours and three more orgasms later my timelocks finally released and I was able to get free. It was another half hour before I got out of everything and another half hour after that before I could pull myself together enough to climb out of the truck and go into the house. I’m not sure what I am going to tell Ron, but I know that Sunday afternoon– and perhaps some weekends yet to come– are going to be VERY interesting.