F/M Tied while she went out with friends...

[bootsleatherbondage]

First post here, so my girlfriend knows how I not only love being tied up but how it relaxes me, excites me and does so many things to me. It makes me tremble with excitement and anticipation, euphoric kind of thing, you know? Anyway on to this story.

She told me she was going for sushi with a couple of friends, she knows I don't like it so told me to put on my leather one piece biker suit and get ready. I couldn't believe my luck! That suit is insane, so tight, so constricting, the smell, the feel of all that thick leather, elastic in all the right places, pulling on my crotch and one piece means harder to get out of, impossible if its padlocked to a collar. So I put on my under suit which is a tight fabric to keep me cool and comfortable. Then comes the suit itself, I love how tight it feels as I slip my legs into the bottom part then squirm to get the top on, doing up all the zippers, the noise of the zippers drive me nuts, the suit getting tighter each one I close. Last but not least, my knee high motocross boots which are very stiff and tight which I do up as tight as I can with all the buckles and Velcro, no way to move much in these and then my leather motorcycle gloves, thick, padded and tight on my hands and wrists, almost impossible to use them for anything other than ride a bike.

So Im ready and she orders me to get on my knees, I noticed she had got dressed for dinner and has her hair back in a french braid (much like Lara Croft in tomb raider), a small black top with leather jacket, leather tight pants that hug her beautiful shape and some hot Dr Martens boots.

I suddenly get a ball gag in my mouth adjusted pretty tight. She then gets my most strict deprivation hood and slides it on my head, adjusts its position and starts to pull aggressively on the adjustment ropes (I love her aggression) I can feel it getting tighter and tighter, Im breathing faster with excitement trying to control myself, she ties it off and once she makes sure its adjusted in the right position she starts on all the belts (there are 4) first the neck and she asks shall I do it tighter? I nod as always, she pulls hard and closes, I could probably go even tighter, then she adjusts the others, top of my head to my underchin, mouth, eyes all are nice and tight making the hood not only impossible to get out of, impossible to see anything, hearing is even hard, difficult to move my head but its so constricting and most importantly wont move at all so my breathing holes (small as they are and only on the nose) wont move.

She then orders me to look up, not that I can move my head much and puts a thick posture collar on me, nice and tight, now the padlocks come out and even though I know I couldn't get out of this I love the extra security the locks give, one on my collar and one of each of the hood belts. With each click I know Im under her complete control and wont be getting out of this till she decides.

Im then led to the bathroom where we have a super heavy dresser and I get a kick to the back of my knees being forced to the ground, she then handcuffs me to the dresser and says "You stay here, I'm going out for dinner and probably drinks with the girls, don't know when I'll be back or if I'll let you out when I'm back, kisses me on the hood and kicks me between the legs" and I hear her closing the doors and leaving the house.

Im in ecstasy, I love being tied up by my hot girlfriend especially dressed the way she was dressed, forced into everything like I was, wearing my one piece leather suit, boots, hood, gloves, gag. Of course the urge immediately starts to come over me for sexual release and I can achieve it by squirming around in my suit as it rubs against my crotch but no, discipline I tell myself, discipline - more than anything because once I get the release, I want out of my bounds and that would be impossible right now so best behavior. I move around testing my bonds, suit and appreciate every little thing that is pulling, holding me. I cant see anything, hear anything or move much, my breathing is constricted but I know from experience not to worry, I surrender to my situation and spend hours enjoying it, fighting the urge for sexual release, adjusting my position to make it as comfortable as possible, horny, relaxed and happy. I start to wonder when will she be back, I don't get much sleep because I'm too excited but drift off a few times. After many many hours she comes back, I hear her which means she must be a quite drunk and I can hear her boots marching on the floor, she comes in and asks if I've been a good slave, I grunt through my gag and she kicks me in the crotch again, that mixture of pain and pleasure drives me nuts, she then puts her boot on top of my crotch and presses down, also drives me even more nuts! She then lowers the zipper of my suit and puts my member in her and starts to ride me with one hand on my collar pushing it down even more which she moves a couple of times to my nose to block my breathing holes, riding me violently we both climax and she gets up to wash up and get ready for bed, I was expecting her to untie me but she didn't, she said goodnight, closed the door and left me there. I loved that feeling, it drove me absolutely wild, to be used like that and left there in all that gear.

A night I will never forget and would love to repeat very often...

[RopePheonix]

That's a great, exciting story. You are really lucky!

[slackywacky]

Wow, wish that would happen to me some day. Thanks for posting, great adventure.

[bootsleatherbondage]

Thanks! Well tonight it happened again, she was playing her computer game and I was being "loud and annoying" apparently so same again to silence me ...

Loved it, was around 4 hours... Hoping next time she locks me in my sleeping bag, havent been there for a while..

[bootsleatherbondage]

Just had AI rewrite it from my girlfriends perspective and it sounds even better:

I knew he’d be thrilled when I told him I was going out for sushi. Not because he liked the idea—he hated sushi—but because he knew what it really meant. The way his breath hitched when I mentioned it, the way his fingers twitched like he was already imagining the leather against his skin—it was intoxicating.

I took my time getting ready, slipping into my tightest black top, the one that clings just right, then my leather pants—the ones that make his eyes darken with hunger. My boots clicked against the floor as I pulled my hair back into that braid he loved, the one that made me feel like a goddess, untouchable. Powerful.

I could hear him moving in the other room, the rustle of fabric, the shhhh of zippers—his under-suit first, then the real prize: that one-piece leather biker suit. I smirked, knowing how it would feel against him—tight, suffocating, perfect. The way it would squeeze his chest, pull at his crotch, make him ache in the best way. And those boots—stiff, unyielding, buckled so tight he could barely bend. Good. He wouldn’t need to move much tonight.

When I walked in, he was already on his knees, just like I’d ordered. His posture was perfect, submissive, mine. I let my gaze rake over him, taking in every inch of that glossy black leather, the way it molded to his body like a second skin. My fingers itched to touch, to own.

First, the gag. I adjusted the straps until his jaw was stretched just right, the ball pressing his tongue down. His breath came faster, shallow little pants that told me exactly how much he loved this. I didn’t speak—he didn’t need words. He needed me.

Then, the hood. My favorite. The deprivation kind, the one that turns him into nothing but a breathing, trembling thing beneath my hands. I slid it over his head, feeling the resistance as the thick leather settled into place. Then came the ropes—yanking them tight, watching his chest heave as the world narrowed down to just darkness and the sound of my voice.

"Tighter?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

He nodded, eager, desperate. So I pulled. The neck belt first, cinching it until I could see the strain in his throat, the way his pulse jumped beneath my fingers. Then the others—chin, mouth, eyes—each one locking him deeper into submission. The belts followed, the click of the buckles echoing in the quiet room. He was mine now. Completely.

The posture collar went on next, forcing his head up, his spine straight. I loved the way it made him vulnerable, exposed. The padlocks came out—one for the collar, one for each belt. The snick of metal was the sweetest sound, the final seal on his surrender. He shivered when I kissed the smooth leather over his mouth, my lips lingering just long enough to make him whimper.

"You stay here," I murmured, running a hand over his shoulder before giving him a sharp kick to the back of the knees. He collapsed forward, and I caught him by the collar, dragging him to the bathroom. The dresser was heavy—immovable—just like him now. The handcuffs clicked around his wrists, securing him to the cold wood.

"I’m going out for dinner. Probably drinks after." I tilted his head up, even though he couldn’t see me. "Don’t know when I’ll be back. Don’t know if I’ll let you out when I am."

I kissed the hood again, right where his mouth would be beneath the leather, then gave his crotch a firm kick—just enough to make him gasp. The door closed behind me, and I didn’t look back.

The night was good. The drinks were strong, the laughter easy. But the whole time, I could feel him—waiting, trembling, needing. The thought of him there, trapped in the dark, bound in leather, his body aching for release but too disciplined to take it—it made me wet.

I came home late, drunk enough that my steps were unsteady, my boots loud on the hardwood. I didn’t bother being quiet. Let him hear me. Let him wonder.

The bathroom door creaked open, and there he was—still kneeling, still perfect. I crouched in front of him, tilting his head up with a finger under his chin.

"Been a good slave?"

His muffled grunt was all the answer I needed. I rewarded him with another kick to his crotch, watching the way his body jerked against the restraints. Then my boot pressed down, slow, deliberate, grinding just where he’d be hardest. His breath came in ragged bursts through the hood’s tiny nose holes, his hips twitching uselessly.

I unzipped the suit just enough to free him, then sank down onto him without a word. One hand stayed on his collar, pushing it down, controlling him. The other found its way to his nose, blocking the air just long enough to make him struggle—just enough to make him mine.

He came with a choked sound, his body shuddering beneath me. I rode him through it, taking my own pleasure, my nails digging into the leather at his throat.

After, I stood, smoothing my clothes back into place. He was panting, spent, ruined—exactly how I liked him.

"Goodnight," I said, leaning down to press one last kiss to the hood.

I left him there.

Because some things are just better when they’re left wanting.