I admit it, I'm horrible at meeting men. I've had a few boyfriends, but they never last. Most of them turn out to be creepy slobs, and I regret ever giving them the time of day. Not to pass up an opportunity to find "Mr. Loveable", I checked out the internet scene. Months went by with only my many failed attempts to show for my efforts. Everyone seemed so shallow. They wanted to know my measurements before they even asked me my name, if they asked that at all. Finally, I started chatting with a local guy who called himself "Seagull". He seemed pretty exciting. In not too long, we got wonderfully hot and heavy through Instant Messenger. He seemed to enjoy getting me into thrilling self-bondage positions, which I acted out. As I was bound and waiting for my release mechanism, he would text to tease me for hours. I loved it. He was single, and I really wanted to get to know him so much better. After a lot of cajoling, I finally managed to convince him to meet, but he wanted it to be perfect, just as he envisioned it. His terms were that:

1) I would tie myself up in my house, videotaping the process.
2) The bondage must include a blindfold.
3) I should leave the front door key under the mat.
4) I would be judged on creativity, humiliation, and degree of helplessness.

If I did well, a relationship might start. If I did poorly, I will not hear from him again. I was nervous. What would happen if he got into an accident on the way over, was delayed at work, or something else? I didn't dive into this recklessly, we made some arrangements for safety. I would be bound helplessly except for the last "point of no return". He would call me when he was in sight of my house, describing my decorative flag to my answering machine. As I hear the message as it's recorded, that would be my sign that he's at my house. As a failsafe, I invited my friend Sue to come over the next afternoon, to tell her about our date. I sure didn't *plan* to be in bondage that long, but better safe than sorry. The bondage scenario was definitely something I wouldn't want to do half-way. I was committed to do it as far as I could go.

I broke out of my reverie. This was the night that he'll finally be here; I would finally meet Seagull. I got up and put out a decorative Minnie Mouse flag, I didn't want it out too far in advance. I wanted the confidence that he didn't stop by sometime last night to preview the flag.

I figured Seagull wanted something blatantly sexual for the video, so I did my makeup to look as slutty as possible – overdone eyeshadow, blush that wasn't that subtle, and bright red lipstick. I looked at myself in the mirror. Yeah, I looked like a ten cent hooker. I hope that's the look that he wanted. I tucked my lipstick into my bra for later.

I set up the camcorder right in the hall in front of the front door, and started taping. I was so nervous! I knew he would review this. Rather than a corny intro, I started right in.

The fist step was wardrobe. Trying to do a strip-tease for the camera, I slowly slid the beige dress that I wore to work up higher, flashing bits of skin as I slowly danced around my entry hall. Higher it rose until I flung it off-camera into the living room with a flourish. I didn't normally dress this way, but I'd planned ahead for this. I had a white satin underwear set on – a white satin push-up bra enhanced my bust, a white satin garter belt had four garters that stretched down to hold up white stockings. I had a matching pair of white satin panties on over the garters. I know it looked silly having the panties over the garters. I shrugged and giggled a bit as I slid the panties down my legs, flinging them off toward the dress. A few sensual dance moves later, I was sitting on the floor. I hoped Seagull would find the interlude to be a smooth transition.

I slipped my foot into the first of my high heeled shoes. The heel height was a ridiculous 6", totally impractical for most activities. I could barely walk in the shoes, but walking was never the point when wearing these shoes. I sensuously caressed the white leather, slid my fingers up the cute T-strap, and buckled the strap around my ankle. I put my other foot into the matching shoe, bucking it around my ankle and showing off my footwear for the camcorder in my best Vanna White imitation. It seemed so odd to be pandering to the faceless blinking red light as I dressed in my hall. I had to hold onto the wall for balance as I struggled to my feet.

I showed off a white velvet choker necklace that held two keys as charms. I wrapped it around my neck, making sure I could breathe freely, and attached the clasp behind my neck.

I had a crude saddle that I made from the center slice of an old clear plastic salad bowl. It was about a foot and a half long, and about 6 inches wide, curving quite high in the front and back. I attached it to the white pole that used to hold up the umbrella from my patio furniture. The pole has a push-button that can fit into one of a few different holes to change the length of the pole, and thus the height. A flat square base about two feet across kept it grounded. While this adjustable height saddle set was home-made, it sure fit my budget and hopefully showed creativity.

I took out the vibrator and butt-plug that I bought just last night. I showed them off to the camera. I looked at the shiny cherry red butt plug, new in the package, and immediately had second thoughts. What was I thinking when I bought this? I'd considered the red to be such a happy color, so festive, so I bought it. While the package said "medium", the plug looked huge! The tip was a decent size, but it kept flaring out larger and larger before it necked down to a stem for my sphincter to squeeze on. The total size was daunting. I didn't know if I could get the whole thing in, either the volume or the maximum diameter through my hole! There was no time to back out now. I felt scared to be in this position and fearful of the enormous fake penis I was about to shove up my butt. I took a deep breath and faked a smile for the camera. I hoped I looked anticipatory.

I tried to be seductive in un-wrapping the lesser of two evils, the vibrator. It was made to mimic an anatomical penis, albeit in hot pink, and with a large base. It was covered with a gel that looked like veins that were popping out of the penis. I hoped that it made the vibrator less likely to poke in the wrong spots. I flashed my forced smile as I popped in the batteries. Squeezing some KY onto my hands, I grasped the vibrator, and slowly pumped up and down as if it was a real penis. I wanted to really show off for the camera, I envisioned Seagull watching this, and judging my performance. I wanted him to get hard and excited, so I acted the part as much as I could, stroking it lovingly as if this shaft of hot pink rubber was his real penis. After it was all goo-ed up, I teased into me a bit at a time, slowly letting it slorp its way in, and nestle into a comfortable position. I didn't turn it on yet, much as the desire was there. I plugged the re-charger right into it, and wound the cord to the nearest outlet. It could run continually – no dead batteries on this one!

The next step was the butt-plug that I had been dreading. I lubed the plug as much as I could, making sure to get lube all over it, as much for the sluttiness for Seagull as for my own comfort. I teased it in – a little bit in, half as much out. A little bit in, half as much out. I grunted with the effort. It felt like the largest turd I'd ever laid was stretching my butt, and it wasn't all the way in yet! I squealed and whimpered, but I was trying to shove a massive plug up my butt that was apparently a size "small". I had to go onto the next part of my bondage plan.

I held the plug in place as I minced to straddle the saddle. For comfort, I stuck a clear inflated bag I had gotten as packing material as padding. With my heels on the flat base of the umbrella stand, I lifted the saddle up as high as I could. I had to let out a groan as it raised – my weight was all on that plug! It was sticking out too far for my plan to work! I realized what I had to do. I slowly, inexorably lifted my legs, letting my weight drive the plug in. It stretched me more than any gyn exam, but I kept lowering myself onto it. My shrieking squeals echoed off the hallway walls as the largest part went in. With a groan, my sphincter sucked the plug in. I felt truly full and impaled on the plug. I hoped Seagull would like it; it felt huge! I lifted up the saddle to sit firmly up against my groin to hold the phalluses in place. My heels barely touched the base, and with these teetering high heels, I couldn't rise up on my tip-toes to rise off of the plug or vibrator. I lifted up my left ankle, and wrapped one cuff from a pair of handcuffs around my left ankle, clicking it closed, and securing the double lock. The other end of the handcuff was soon locked around the saddle pole. Another pair of handcuffs soon followed, connecting my right ankle to the pole. I could now lift my legs up and down, but sure couldn't walk anywhere. I was secured to the pole, and my own weight kept it from tipping, shifting, or doing any movement. The handcuff key was on my necklace. I knew I could back out now, and easily unlock the cuffs. It was still before the point of no return, but I pressed on. I was driven; I wasn't going to do this only halfway.

I took out my lipstick, and using it like a marker, I wrote "I ♥ BUTT FUCKING" in big block letters over my stomach, tossing the lipstick aside when I was done. I actually never *tried* anal sex, but I knew Seagull liked it, and I could always use more "humiliation" points with his grading system.

I made sure everything else was within reach, and then put on the blindfold. It was rubber, form fitting, and worked extremely well. Even near the bridge of my nose, I couldn't see a thing. I buckled it firmly around my head, feeling the rubber pressing on my eyes, forcing the last bits of light away.

My hands went fumbling for the gag-harness. I found it, and put the deflated gag into my mouth, fastening the straps around the back of my head. I inflated the gag only part-way; enough to keep my mouth propped open by about two inches. I disconnected the bulb, and tossed it away; the gag would stay inflated until I got it back. Just had to cinch down the rest of the gag... One strap went cheek to cheek, going under my chin. I cinched that one down tightly so that my mouth in a battle between the strap holding my mouth shut and the gag forcing it open. The stalemate point was about an inch, but that was all filled with gag, no jaw mobility. I hoped that would please Seagull, he enjoys hearing about how stringent my self-bondage has been. I don't want his first visual to be disappointing. Additional straps went from my cheeks, meeting over the bridge of my nose, going over the blindfold, forming one strap that went over my head to the strap at the back of my head. I buckled that one down securely as well.

I had a cap for the gag inflation nozzle that was shaped into a hot pink dildo, so I screwed that on for added appeal for him. I hoped he wanted to see me with a fake penis sticking obscenely out of my mouth. Even though I couldn't see it and it was light weight, the feel of it made me feel so...whorish? Like an over the top porno star? Hopefully titillating to the male psyche.

I felt around for the rope that dangled down from the I-bolt above me. I tied that to the D-ring at the top of the gag-harness, and pulled it so it held my head securely upwards. It even took more weight off of my feet, and thankfully lightened the load on my plugs. If Seagull would judge me on helplessness, I didn't want to be found lacking. I had tested it before – it would hold my weight, and I couldn't bend over the slightest bit.

I turned the vibrator onto "low". The vibrations started, sending waves of excitement through my groin. I hoped that would not put me over the edge before he showed up. I wanted to look and feel desperate, not post-orgasmic.

The last step was to lock my arms. I put my fur-lined leather manacles around my wrists. These were a good set, they buckled shut with a lockable buckle. They wrapped around my wrist like a comforting friend from all the times I had worn them previously in my self-bondage for Seagull. I had already installed additional I-bolts in the walls. I grabbed the chains that dangled from each bolt. I carefully attached them to the locking buckle on my manacles with padlocks, keeping the locks open in my hand. This held my wrists out to the sides, about a foot away from my waist. I couldn't reach a thing. I held the locks, the last link in the chain, the point of no return in my hands. One squeeze, and I would be held securely. I knew the keys were on my necklace. I couldn't bend over, I couldn't reach up. I could only wait for Seagull.

Time passed. Would he call? Your mind plays tricks on you when you're in situations like this. The vibrator stimulating my private parts was also flooding my body with hormones, tormenting me more as the minutes went by. If he didn't call, I could let myself out. I didn't want to release myself so prematurely; I wouldn't have any notice of his call. I squirmed on the vibrator that was teasing me. More time passed. Was it just twenty minutes, or had it been an hour or two? I had no choice but to wait. Finally, the phone rang. It was Seagull. As he clearly described my Minnie Mouse flag, I clicked the locks shut in my hand without a second thought. I waited for him to open the door.

I kept waiting for the door. Any second now... I listened closely for his car, but heard nothing. What could be taking him so long? He called from my driveway! What was he doing? It took me a while to get the lesson that he was driving in - I was waiting at his leisure, and I would be bound until he decided to come in. I was given no choice in the matter; things would be on his terms. I tried to be patient, and was finally rewarded with the sound of footsteps, and then the front door opened. I heard him saunter slowly around my body, bound for his inspection. I felt totally self-conscious, and aware of my helpless position, my future based on his whim. I thrust my boobs out a bit to make them look fuller. I sucked in the bit of a belly I had, regretting enjoying too much chocolate. The vibrator had me hot and bothered. I knew I was wet. Did it show? Could he smell me? Was he standing a few feet away, or was he crouched, his eyes but inches from the vibrator, which was unrelentingly humming away? Was he staring wide-eyed at my boobs, or happily gazing on my face? I had no idea, and realized he would do as he chose; I couldn't affect it.

When he had taken the slow full tour, Seagull muttered "Oh my my my. And even a butt-plug and vibrator!" I hoped he meant that in a good way. I pictured him smiling at his willing captive, but all I saw was black – the inside of the blindfold. He deflated my gag, but the harness still held it in my mouth. I didn't anticipate his first question - "Where is your cell phone?"
I mumbled around the deflated gag - "Up in my bedroom on my nightstand." I was wondering why he would ask that, but I was clearly in no position to argue.

"And what's your computer password?"

"It's Seagull". Why was he asking these questions?

He laughed. "Using my name for a password. How nice." I tried to ask what was going on, but he cut me off by a few quick pumps of the gag inflation bulb, filling my mouth and preventing any input on my end. He sure pumped it up secure; it was even a bit tighter than I had it. As he walked off, I hoped he wasn't upset. This evening was clearly not going as my fantasies had blown it up to be. I was getting downright terrified of a man who was supposed to be my "Mr. Loveable". He had me tied up as a sex object for his whim, and he was more interested in my phone and computer? I was helpless, and in over my head. A few minutes went by. I know time seems to slow down in cases like this. I expected to be praised, teased, and ravished by now. How that I heard him in person rather than a cell phone, his voice sounded familiar somehow, but I couldn't place it. Was it someone I knew from work? It's so hard without the visual clues.

I finally heard Seagull coming down the stairs from the computer room, verbally ticking items off of his mental "to do" list. He said "I have your cell phone. I've sent myself a copy of your e-mail address book. I have the DVD. I still have your house key. That leaves just one more thing." He peeled away the blindfold from one eye.

I screamed into the gag, and tried to struggle. It was no use. Before me was Roger Macintyre, the sleaziest boyfriend I ever had. When I dumped him over a year ago for sleeping around, I thought I saw the last of him. Now he was in front of me, grinning from ear to ear. "I've wanted to do this for SO long." He let the blindfold snap back into place. He reached down, and shoved up the saddle pole by a notch, lifting me up in the air by the twin invaders that I was sitting on. I groaned as more of my weight drove the plug deeper up my ass like a miner digging for hidden treasure. My arms felt as taut as a guitar string. My muffled screams of protest were to no avail. He grabbed the gag-harness rope that held my head toward the ceiling, and cinched that one up as far as it would go as well, having me dangle a bit from my head.

Roger laughed. "This is going to be SO much fun! I'm going to prove to everyone that you are the slut I told them about! Everyone you know will get a few teasing text messages, then pictures by e-mail, then the whole DVD in the mail! Just think – your boss, your co-workers, your parents and friends will have a wonderful gift from you!" Consider yourself a movie star! I was trying to shriek insults into my gag as he laughed, and walked out the door.

That bastard was going to ruin my life! I pulled on the manacles holding my wrists. I tried twisting out of them. It was no use, they were secure. I tried leaning forward and breaking the head harness, but I'd bought durable toys. I was stuck until someone got tipped off by Roger's messages, or Sue came over, but that would be over 12 hours! I thought of the most likely people to be first, and realized this was going to wipe my life away. How could I have been so gullible and stupid? I suck with men! Much as I tried, I couldn't extract myself from pressing on the two obscene penises impaling my crotch with my own weight. After about half an hour of struggling and squirming, I finally gave up. I was too exhausted to continue, and started to sob as I waited to be shamed into social exile.

I have no idea how long I sat on those invaders up my privates, the buzzing taunting me with my impending ridicule rather than exciting me. My blindfold didn't contain the tears as they streamed down my face, messing my makeup into that of a distorted clown.

The front door opened. I waited for the worst. I was actually glad to hear Roger's voice. "I'm glad that your position is as inescapable as you promised. I tried to make a relationship work, and you penned in my style. I want you, and I want my freedom. Now, the relationship will be on *my* terms. You will be mine every Saturday from 8 AM to midnight. In return, the video stays private. If you agree, puff out that chest of yours." If not, your night will be *so* memorable to so many.

I had to think of what Roger might do to me if I agreed with his carte blanche terms. I realized the alternative of having him send out the messages from my phone and video from my account was worse. Truly humbled, I stuck my chest out at him in my best pose of "Look! I have boobs!".

I felt him caressing my breasts. He always had been a breast lover. "Great! So breakfast in bed, scrambled eggs & toast, Saturday morning. Oh, and you know I love your lingerie collection!" I felt him worm his fingers to my crotch. The vibrator started revving up as he dialed the knob. I didn't want to debase myself by orgasming in front of this bastard!

Roger stepped behind me and started to nuzzle my neck, just how I like it. He started the slow, sensual kisses, and caressed my body as I squirmed on the vibrating vaginal invader. I felt like he was just using my hormones against me for his own amusement, playing me like a violin. The mental image of being his sex object was oddly exciting. I pulled against the wrist manacles. I tugged against my cuffs on ankles, and the restraint made the sex object motif all the more stark. I whimpered into the gag as the vibrator buzzed away, sending its wonderful waves through my pleasure zone, and even making the buttplug hum in sympathy. I could feel my orgasm building inside of me. The vibrator suddenly slowed down. That bastard! I yelled a few choice words into the gag, and started rocking back and forth on the phallic saddle, hoping for that last bit of stimulation to send me over the edge. With every thrust, the vibrator slid in, but with every withdrawal, I felt the plug thrust up my butt. I squirmed as much as I could, but I couldn't get off. I tried squirming onto the vibrator, pleading into the gag, trying to convince him to turn the vibrator back on for just one more minute. I slowed down when I realized Roger was in complete control of whether I orgasmed or not. I heard him chuckling, and the vibrations started up at full speed again. He caressed my torso, and started kissing me like he truly loved me. I shook and spasmed as my orgasm crashed over me.

Roger took the phallic cap off the gag and thankfully deflated it, gently removing it from my mouth. I was exhausted. I barely managed a "thank you", not sure if it was for the orgasm or removing the gag. He removed the blindfold, and I saw the red blinking light of the camcorder, faithfully recording my post-orgasmic glow. I realized that the camcorder taped me humping my vibrator to orgasm, and my face was clearly shown again. It felt was daring and exciting in a reckless and wrong kind of way.

Roger took the keys off my neck, and released my arms. "You should be able to get the rest off. Bring the second part of the video on Saturday. Eggs & toast in lingerie! See you there! With that and a peck on my cheek, he started to whistle a happy tune, and walked out the door.