My Shed & Joan

Please let me explain how I got myself into this mess. This might take some time, so make yourselves comfortable. Maybe some of you men will see it from my predicament, and some of you ladies might not. Of course there are those women who would love to do this to their men I suppose and some men who would die rather than get in the state you find me in.

My wife Joan is rather vanilla. She is the old “Lie back and think of England” type when it comes to sex. I have bought her baby doll nighties, sexy clothes to wear and all I got was “it isn’t comfortable. It’s for you, not me. I feel silly” and so on in respect of replies. I have often asked what she would like me to do, but never once got a reply.

Okay, we had a great sex life to start with but over the years it waned badly. In the end I started to cross dress and imagined being a girl tightly tied up and unable to escape, waiting for my tormentor to return and do his evil worse with me.

Joan did find out about my fantasies, but while I was leaving her alone, she was happy for me to do it. But one thing led to another and my cross dressing got worse. My favourite outfit was a tight blouse and a hobble skirt that I made myself which meant my steps were limited to only ten inches. Combine that with the six inch heeled shoes I had got and voila by the time the false breasts went into my corset and I had put the makeup on I thought I looked the part. In the mirror I could fancy myself.

*****

The trouble started when I had to build a shed. I made it myself of four by four inch posts and three quarter inch marine plywood. Even the roof was supported by four by four beams. This shed would last until long after I was dead.  The door was reinforced with two inch wide steel straps. There were six of them. It took four strong hinges to hold the door in place. Even the padlock and hasp was the strongest I could buy. The roof had two frosted glass panels for light. I hadn’t got round to putting power into it. In the roof beams I had screwed some eye bolts in for my bondage sessions. I had even screwed eyebolts into the floor.

I decided to tie myself up in my shed and pretend I had been abandoned. Joan watched as I applied my makeup. Foundation, powder, blusher, eye shadow, mascara, (I even tweaked my eyebrows to look feminine. As I had two weeks off from work, they would grow back in time) and of course false eyelashes. No expense was spared. Lip gloss and liner. I left nothing off. Joan ignored me. I clipped the heavy dangly ear-rings on my ear lobes.  I love the way they tug at my ears.

I picked up all my underwear and female clothing and took them to the shed. Although our neighbours can see the shed they cannot look into it.  They only get a side view. Joan watched in disgust as I took my stuff to the back door.  With no neighbours about to see me in make up, I dashed across to my shed.

I closed the door and wedged it shut with a piece of paper jamming the door closed. The lock was still on the outside. So for all intents and purposes it looked like the shed was locked closed. I stripped off all my clothes. Firstly I took all my bondage gear out of the drawers in the cupboard I had in there. Ankle cuffs. Padlocks, combination padlocks, heavy chains, ball gag. Nothing was left in the drawer.  

Now for my getting dressed I put the stockings on first and rolled them up my legs. These were followed by the soft silk panties. I settled them in place.

The corset was next. That was the only time Joan ever helped me. She gradually reduced my waist into a feminine shape by gradually tightening the strings. Eventually thanks to the heavy steel busk fastening at the front, take it off and after a struggle put it on again. This time though, it seemed to take me even more effort, but eventually I closed the busk and enclosed my body in the strong material of the corset and of course the steel rods.  I found breathing heavy going but I knew I would get used to it.  That is when I wished I had put the shoes on first. But I was not going to struggle with the corset once more. I would have to try to put the shoes on after. If only Joan were here.

I attached the stockings to the six suspender straps of the corset. I put my falsies into the cups of the corset. They cost me a fortune and they matched my skin tone perfectly. The nylon petticoat was next. I smoothed it down over my body. God this felt wonderful. I was nearly having an orgasm. The blouse went over the top with some beads around my neck. I put bangles on my wrists and a ladies wrist watch to finish it off.

The next thing was to paint my false fingernails and stick them onto my finger. It took me a half hour to make sure they were dry. I stepped into the skirt and pulled it up. The problem was that the petticoat kept riding up with the skirt. However, I eventually got it settled down. I stepped into my shoes and had to bend my knees to get them on. It took quite a bit out of me. While I was down there I put the leather ankle cuffs on and secured them with the padlocks to the floor eyebolts. Now I had to stand with my legs held rigid by the eyebolts and the skirt. I tucked the blouse into the skirt and was ready for my arms.

Reaching for the bench nearby, I took the ball gag and strapped it in place.  I locked the chains to the roof beams and put the wig on. It took me ages to settle it in place as I had no mirror in the shed. Now I was ready. I lifted my arms up, to reach for the chains and the combination locks hanging in the links.  I tied the chains around my wrists and took the excess links to where I could just reach the combination locks. I closed the hasp of the locks and spun the numbers. I decided that I would wait for a few hours and then release myself.

I squirmed at my predicament, but I was in heaven at the same time. Here I was, a helpless girl chained up and left. I decided to wait until it started to get dark and would release myself then. That meant I had three hours of self torment to enjoy.  

That is when I had the shock. The door opened. It was Joan. She looked at me in disgust. She looked at my ankle cuffs and the chains holding me up. Going to my drawer cabinet she took out a couple of cable ties and put them through the links of the chain around my wrists. Now I couldn’t shake the links loose. But I could see the locks and the combination numbers.

She walked around me tutting to herself. Joan never said a word. She picked up all my clothes and walked out of the shed. I heard her put the heavy hasp into the closed position and let the heavy lock drop into place as she let it go. I knew I was now imprisoned. But there was worse to come.  All light went out as a heavy sheet went over the roof. Joan had blocked out all light for me.

So here is my position, I am standing up chained to the roof and held fast to the floor, dressed as woman and unable to release myself. So I have to hope Joan decides to release me before it gets too dark. But as it is dark in the shed I have no idea of the time. The wrist watch is not luminous. I can’t see the time. But as it is getting colder, I presume the sun is going down.

So in my mind I have to plead to Joan and hope she relents.  “Come on Joan, you aren’t going to leave me here all night are you? Are you? Joan, my feet are killing me in these shoes. Joan................ please let me go..........Joanie dear. Joan...........................”

 

21.06.10