Author's Note: Here is my next attempt at some erotic fiction, I hope you enjoy it.


At long last Susan felt she had perfected her "bicycle race" self-bondage scenario. She had an exercise bicycle set up in her workout room. It had a long USB cable connecting to her computer on the side of the room.

The bicycle could send over statistics to the computer. Her computer program was going to wait until she had gone "ten miles" on the bike. At that point, it was going to release the door lock electromagnet she had mounted on the ceiling which held her key up. The key was tied with a long string to a hook directly over the bicycle, so when the magnet released, the key would fall into her reach from atop the bicycle. It doubled as a safety in case of power outage.

Of course she had the obligatory vibrating dildo bolted firmly to the seat of the bicycle, again wired to the computer so she could program any sort of devious vibration pattern she wanted. Just behind the dildo on the seat she had mounted a button so that the computer could tell whether she was sitting on the seat or had lifter herself off it. Today she wrote her program to run the vibrator when she was sitting on the seat, but only after two miles.

Susan stripped down completely naked, except for her strappy high-heeled sandals. They wouldn't really make any difference once she was on the bike, but they made her feel sexier than bare feet would. She wrapped her corset around herself, and spent the next few minutes pulling the laces as tight as she could before tying them off and supergluing the knots shut. She knew it would be hard to go the distance with the corset making it hard to breathe, but that was part of the fun.

She locked leather cuffs on both of her wrists, and wrapped a chain around her waist and locked it. The next step was to lube up the dildo, although she was already getting so excited that it wasn't really needed. She carefully stepped on the pedals of the bicycle, hovered over the phallus, and lowered herself onto it, and it slipped in easily.

Completely filled by the plastic intruder, she took short chains and chained the front and back of her waist to rings on the front and back of the bicycle seat. She tried lifting herself up, and just as she'd planned, she got a couple of inches up before the chains were taut. It was high enough to release the button, but not enough to be able to pull herself off the dildo.

Her breathing was getting ragged now. She took the ball gag she'd laid on the crossbar of the bike, and pulled it in, buckling it tight. She tried pushing it out with her tongue, and it moved just a bit, but no way she could get it out without unbuckling it. And soon her hands were going to be too far away to unbuckle.

Finally she reached for the clover nipple clamps. She'd prepared them with small weights hanging off the ends. She'd realized that the dildo and the corset forced her to bend forward a little bit, so the weights would dangle down and tug on the squeezing clamps every time she moved. But she could barely stand the pain from the clamps, so she knew she'd have to move fast to put herself in bondage once they were on.

Taking a deep breath, she decided this was it. She opened the clamp, let it bite down on her left nipple, quickly applied the right clamp to the other nipple, and grabbed the last two padlocks, quickly locking her left wrist as far to the right as she could get it behind her back to the waist chain, and the opposite with her right wrist.

She released her breath and surveyed what she'd done. Her nipples were screaming bloody murder, and the shock went directly down to her pussy. She pulled on her arms but the cuffs and locks held them tight behind her back. The corset was impossibly tight around her waist. And the ball gag was just as stuck in her mouth as before.

She twisted her upper body, but that just succeeded in swinging the weights which pulled the clamps tighter onto her nipples. Her legs were free, but there was nothing they could do. She could stand on the pedals, or stretch down and touch the floor, but the bike was bolted down and so nothing to do.

There was no avoiding it, she was going to have to go through with the plan she'd forced upon herself, ten hard miles worth of pedaling. It was a bit awkward without use of her hands, but she soon fell into a rhythm. Standing up as she was, each stroke of the pedals caused the nipple clams to sway a little bit, reminding her helpless nipples of their torture. Worse, there was no way she could maintain her waist at the same height throughout the cycle, so she was actually fucking herself on the dildo. She couldn't sit down and pedal because her own program wouldn't count distance while that button was depressed.

Up and down. Up and down. Round and round. In and out. In and out. The going was hard because she'd turned the tension on the fly wheel up. Between the corset and the ball gag, it was hard to get enough air. But still she kept going up and down on the dildo, and soon distraction was turning to arousal, and yet she was tiring, but she had to keep going, but her pussy was throbbing with need and she thrust down particularly hard on one stroke and the vibrator started up and before she knew it she was pushing her crotch down onto those wonderful vibrations as hard as she could and she exploded into orgasm.

Sergey walked up to his computer in his dark Moscow apartment, and launched his army of zombie bots around the world. Ordinary PCs which had been infected by his worm, spreading stealthily across the internet. His target was not credit card information or website attacks, but webcams. On command, the zombie PCs quietly activated their attached cameras and scanned whatever they were looking at. Most were dark or empty rooms. But some were not. His algorithm looked for images with lots of flesh tones. Thousands of PCs were under his control, but only a few dozen returned with images for his voyeuristic pleasure.

He clicked on one of the thumbnails, and there was Susan, naked except for the corset, heels, and bondage gear, resting on her bike. Intrigued, Sergey commanded the zombie PC to send a video stream. Susan was motionless, recovering from her orgasm, and maybe enjoying the brief respite on her nipples as the weights we not swaying for once. Sergey was about to switch to another scene when Susan suddenly stood up and started to pedal again.

He saw the base of the phallus reveal itself under her pussy as she had to stand up to make the pedaling count. It was then he noticed the USB cable extending from the control panel of the bicycle off screen. To where? Could it be? He looked at the USB devices connected to the PC, and sure enough there it was: "Helf Teq Bicycle System Statistics (tm)".

He quickly found the program which had opened the USB port on her computer, and found her source code there too. With comments like "// start the vibrator" and "// release the key" he figured out exactly what her predicament was. But he also realized there was no way he could change the program, because stopping or killing it would cause the file controlling the magnet to drop, letting it release.

But it was not all bad news, he found the second USB controller to the exercise bike, the one which controlled its settings. And he did find a place he could flip a 1 to a 0 inside her existing program...

Susan was definitely having a hard time of it, but she was making progress. She could see she was already 8 miles in. Her breathing was hard and ragged, her lungs desperately grasping for air around the ball gag and inside the corset. Her initial orgasm had taken the edge off her arousal and only now was the motion of her inner regions against the phallus starting to become interesting again. She felt she had a good chance of making it all the way to ten miles without stopping for another orgasm, although probably she would, just for fun.

But just as she was getting confident that her release was near, suddenly she started to feel tired. Her legs were hard to move. It seemed to take more and more energy to get the pedals to rotate, and she knew she was going to have to take a break. Bringing herself down, she felt the vibrations start, but then strangely they stopped.

She was both disappointed but relieved. Disappointed that she wasn't going to get another orgasm, but relieved because it meant she'd have more energy left after resting and quicker to freedom from her self-imposed torment.

After a few minutes of rest, she lifted herself up off the seat, letting the phallus slide out as far as the chains would let her, and started to pedal again. But two things were different: It took all her energy to move the pedal even a quarter turn. But worse, the vibrator in the dildo went off like crazy.

Frantically she tried to keep the pedals in motion, but the dildo's ministrations quickly made it hard to concentrate. She pulled wildly at her wrists, but that only caused the weights to swing, abusing her now sore nipples, without getting any closer to having a hand she could use. Dimly she realized that the vibrations were closer to the G-spot when she was at the top of the phallus than when sitting down on it. Harder than before she burst into orgasm, slowly slumping down letting the phallus fully impale her again as the waves of pleasure crashed over her.

After recovering her wits, she realized the tension on the bicycle had gone up, but she couldn't think how. The control panel on the bike was out of reach and her computer didn't even do anything to it. She figured the button that her weight rested on must have some sort of short. It was a bad situation, but she had no way out until she got to ten miles, so she was going to have to plow through.

She girded herself to push as hard as she cool on the pedals, and stood up, and pushed down. The vibrations started up again. This was exactly the sort of bondage she always craved; freedom in sight but yet so far away. She hated to admit it, but it made her hotter than ever, which meant the vibrator hardly hard to do any work at all to bring her back to orgasm.

She nearly had a heart attack when a voice came out of her computer speakers:

"This is Sergey. I control your computer now. You must be good girl for me."

She stared at the computer screen, her emotions a mixture of shock, embarrassment, and fear.

"Nod head for yes. Shake for no."

She had no choice really, so she nodded yes, ever so slightly.

"Ok. Good. Shake breast for me."

She rotated her chest left and right slowly, so the weights wouldn't pull too hard. Unfortunately,

"No. Shake hard. Chain must fly to horizontal."

Her nipples were already in too much pain after all this time. She shook her head no.

"You want I put picture on your facebook? Shake now!"

Reluctantly, she swung her chest from left to right as hard as she could, the pain as the weights swung way out, pulling the clover clamps ever tighter, brought tears to her eyes.

"Good. Now, I want to see face. So I give key, and you make pretty pose for camera. Whole body, yes?"

She shuddered at the thought. Somehow voluntarily posing naked for this mysterious man was even more embarrassing that being caught as she was in self-imposed bondage. But she couldn't think of any way out, she wasn't even sure if she'd be able to make it the last two miles with the bicycle on full tension. She nodded again.

"Good girl. Maybe you--"

and then suddenly the power went out. And came back on. And a second later the key swung down and hit Susan while the computer rebooted. She quickly unlocked herself and ran over to disconnect the computer from the internet. The next day, after recovering from the ordeal, she had a new anti-virus program. And poor Sergey was left with just a couple of pictures and a few minutes of video to remember Susan by. He will always curse the freak power surge that prevented him from downloading Susan's account details.