Mewnar

Well, you asked for my story and I have spent a few days typing it out. Unfortunately I'm not a very good writer but if you care to read it I will explain how a straitjacket entirely changed my life for the better and I am very grateful to the Posey Company who made the garment that accomplished this. I was born in Romania into a poor family and was abandoned by them when very young. Boys are more popular than girls like me because they can find work more easily. Later I lived with another family that were kind to me but when I was about eight or so, I was given over to an orphanage (I think because the authorities there then decided I didn't belong to them and that the government could do a better job). I remember being very good at school and learned to speak English from a woman at the orphanage who had lived in England and she was very kind to me. Later the Government led by Nicolae Ceausescu fell and many orphanages throughout Romania were shown to the western world. Being one of the English speaking children, I was often asked to show wealthy Europeans and Americans around in the hopes that the children would be adopted. This is how I met a wonderful English couple who really seemed to like me and eventually I became adopted myself. I was thus almost 11 years old when I first arrived in England and have fortunately been able to purge most of the unpleasant memories of my early life in the country of my birth. I loved England from the very beginning. Everyone was very friendly and my new parents spoiled me quite badly. Back then my adopted family was quite wealthy since my father was a successful barrister. Unfortunately only two years after I arrived he was killed in a car accident leaving my Mom and me not so well off. Soon my mother had to go back to her old career and she began working long hours as a psychiatric nurse and through necessity I became a latch-key kid. My mother always regretted it but she had little choice. Because I was then having to fend somewhat for myself I suppose I got in with the wrong crowd at school and by the time I was a teenager I was becoming quite a handful for my adopted mom. My story concerning straitjackets really started when I was about eighteen. Things came to a head when mother found marijuana in my room. Mother challenged me about it when I came home from school and there was a big fight and I started to throw one of my wild tantrums. Mother had never hit me or really ever disciplined me seriously up until that time so I thought she had lost it when she dragged me into her bedroom by my hair. I screamed and cried but mom apparently knew how to handle someone out of control. She twisted one arm behind my back, opened her wardrobe door and grabbed something and started wrapping it around me. As I tried to push it away she slapped me once hard across the face and I was so shocked that I didn't realize what she was doing until she was behind me fastening straps, having successfully pushed my arms down the sleeves of a jacket. Once the back was done up she passed my arms through a central loop on my chest and it was then that I realized that the sleeves had no openings at the ends but just trailed long straps from them instead. Before I knew what was happening she had the sleeve straps buckled behind me which caused my arms to be folded tight across my chest. Then she pulled another strap from the front of the jacket up through my crotch, fastening it also very tight behind me. She didn't stop there but pushed me face down on the bed and then grabbed some more straps from her wardrobe. Two of these were connected together by a short piece of chain and she buckled each one around my ankles. Finally she dragged me by the hair off of the bed, out of her room and back to my own bedroom. I could only take little steps because of the ankle straps and she half dragged me over to my bed and threw me down on it. Her last action was to loop another strap between my now hobbled ankles and the foot of the bed frame. She then told me she had had absolutely quite enough of me and that I could scream and shout all I wanted but that I was going to stay in my room that night. Finally she stormed out of my room, slamming the door behind her. I suppose I was really freaked out. Mom had almost never even yelled at me and as far slapping me, well my face still stung. I was so angry I was beside myself and I kicked and struggled and yelled and screamed demanding to be released. I suppose it was fortunate that our house was relatively isolated and no body could hear me. I put up a magnificent fight against the straitjacket but I was wasting my time. Mother had made the straps extremely tight, I could only move my arms a couple of inches so all I did was get very tired and hot. I suppose after about 20 minutes (it seemed much longer) I was utterly exhausted and I began to feel very sorry for myself. I stopped struggling and stopped shouting (my throat had become very dry) and laid back under the absolute control of this jacket. I cried and cried, eventually crying myself to sleep and I began to dream that I was caught in quicksand and then later, locked in a padded room. I didn't know then how long I slept but from later experience I would guess it was probably only about half an hour because I awoke with a terrible cramp in my shoulders. My arms ached dreadfully and I was sure I couldn't breath. My chest and shoulders felt as though they were on fire and I couldn't move to get any relief. However almost before I could even cry out my Mom came back into the room. She looked at me with sorrow in her eyes and asked me if I could behave for a little bit. I nodded but didn't say anything and she then rolled me on my tummy and loosened the straps holding my arms. She didn't un-strap them but loosened them just enough that I could at least move my arms back and forth in the sleeves. Also my shoulders were no longer pulled forward and just moving them back greatly relieved my discomfort. I asked her to remove it but she told me that she would only release me when she herself went to bed. That it was my punishment for the night and that she wasn't going to argue about it. She asked me if I wanted a drink of water and when I told her I did she went and fetched a glass and the held me upright and put the glass to my lips while I drank. I do remember feeling quite relaxed while she held me in her arms while I drank the water. When I had had enough she laid me back down carefully and then left the room before I could argue further. With my arms loosened up I felt the fire in my arms and shoulders start to fade and so I just laid there unable to move or even roll off of the bed. I couldn't read a book, or even get to my remote TV controller – all I could do was lay there, roll a little from side to side and think about what my friends would be doing that night without me. Several times I heard the phone rang. Although previously I had always answered it (nearly all the calls were for me) I heard Mom pick it up, say a few words then hang up. This made me feel even more miserable, knowing my friends were calling me and having fun while I was trussed up like a sack of potatoes unable to even tell them of my plight. Eventually, after what seemed an eternity but was probably only another hour, Mom came back to my room and asked me if I needed the bathroom. I didn't but thought that this would be my chance for her to take it off of me since I couldn't go to the bathroom while strapped up like that. She undid the belt fastening my ankles to the foot of the bed, and then she supported me while I hobbled to the bathroom, where she undid my crotch strap and took down my shorts. She then guided me to the toilet seat, holding the crotch strap clear and stayed in the bathroom while I peed. After finishing I again asked her to release me but she told me that the subject was not open to discussion, and she re-fastened the crotch strap just as tight as before. Again when I got back to the bedroom she made me lie on the bed and refastened the belt connecting my ankles to the foot of the bed. She again closed the door and I was left to be bored to death looking at my frightfully uninteresting ceiling. I suppose I slept some more or at least daydreamed. As I will explain later I have spent many long hours in the confinement of a straitjacket and invariably find my mind goes wandering off. Usually the time passes slowly to start with but suddenly you find that hours have gone by. Sometime later Mom came back and undid the strap connecting my ankles to the bed. She helped me up and supported me while I waddled to her bedroom where she gently placed me on the bed. Hers was a large bed and came and sat on it with me. She asked me if I was prepared to listen quietly while she talked to me. By now all the fight had left me and as I listened to her she gradually placed my head in her lap. She told me how disappointed she was in me, yet blamed herself for not being around more often. She told me that this would soon now change because my adopted fathers father had died leaving a rather large estate to both Mom and me so she was expecting to be able to give up her job and we would be moving to a large house in another county. She would soon be able to spend much time with me and be around for me though I would have to go to a new school. She would no longer take it easy on me and I would have tasks to do at home. I was no longer going to have the time to play around and that my school work would now take priority. She said I probably wouldn't like the new regime but that was too bad. She would not tolerate any disobedience and from now on I could be expected to be "grounded" for the rest of the year. Finally she told me that the new school I should be starting after the holidays was a smallish private school where I would be required to wear a uniform. Naturally I was horrified by all this yet somehow snuggling up to Mom on her bed, with my head in her lap seemed to make it all right. I suppose I was very tired from all the struggling in the straitjacket but just laying there all trussed up was somehow reassuring. We then talked about all sorts of things including school, my friends, about the marijuana, how long I had had it and many other topics. She seemed more sorrowful and disappointed than angry and somehow this made me feel even worse. The fighting was now all out of me and I just listened for a while and then told her how sorry I was. Eventually she yawned, kissed me on the forehead and then started unbuckling the jacket. Finally she released my ankles and led me back to bed where she waited for me to shower (I really needed it), brush my teeth and hair, put my pajamas on then she tucked me into bed and kissed me goodnight. I slept very soundly that night and Mom didn't say anything the next morning about the night before. I seem to recall an uneventful day at school except that I had to dodge my friends to avoid telling them about the previous night. However I was a little shocked when I got home to find mother already home cooking dinner. She made me do my homework before we ate then she sent me upstairs to my room and told me to change into the clothes on the bed. Curious I went upstairs and was shocked to find my pajamas already laid out. Before I could do anything Mom followed me into the room and told me to get changed. In her right hand I saw that she was holding the straitjacket. She told me that I didn't have any choice in the matter and that I could choose the easy way or the hard way. She told me that she had handled much tougher patients than me over many years and that if she had to force me into the pajamas and straitjacket she would buckle my arms up so tight that they would be on fire within 30minutes, just like the previous night before she loosened the sleeve straps. However she promised that if I cooperated she would allow me enough slack such that the straitjacket would not be constricting allowing enough movement to work my arms to prevent the stiffness I had experienced the previous night. Looking back on it now I believe that subconsciously I wanted to be strapped up again however I used the excuse of being scared to experience that fire in my shoulders again to submit to her wishes. I changed into my pajamas quickly and held my arms out so Mom could easily place the sleeves over them and quickly buckle me in. Again she had me place my arms through the center chest loop of the (what I later found out was a) Posey straitjacket and she took the sleeve straps through the side loops and buckled them behind my back – this time leaving enough slack so that I could work my arms back and forth to relieve the tension in my shoulders. She didn't forget the crotch strap which dangled from the front of the jacket. Standing behind me she simply reached for it between my legs pulled it up behind me and buckled it tightly putting significant pressure on my crotch. Next she placed the padded leather cuffs on my ankles and finally used the leather strap to secure them to the foot of my bed. She smiled at me and told me that she was pleased that I had accepted my punishment this time without a fight and that there might be hope for me yet. Before she closed my door she told me that she would be back in a couple of hours to check up on me to see if I needed the bathroom. I then heard the click of the door and her footsteps going down the stairs. After she left I started to feel really good inside – especially that special place between my legs. Just wriggling around I felt the crotch strap rub against me and became very turned on. The more I struggled the better it got and soon I was in the midst of a wonderful orgasm that caused me to buck hard on the bed. I jerked and jerked around till I was completely spent. I felt wonderful. I rested for a while then started struggling again. Very soon, I had worked myself into another monstrous orgasm and I was both thrilled and surprised. While I rested up, I wondered why I hadn't felt this way the previous night but the more I thought about it I began to realize that I probably had but that I had been so angry and confused that I had never let it develop. A mild ache had started in my arms and shoulder but because Mom hadn't strapped my arms as tight as that first time last night, I was able to move position and this relieved the ache before it became unpleasant. Before long I was struggling then orgasming again. This resting and then exertion continued for several more cycles each time finishing in an orgasm but then I began to tire and I fell into a warm peaceful sleep. It was dark when I was awakened by mom who said my punishment was over for the night. She said she had looked in on me several times but that I appeared to be peacefully sleeping and she hadn't wanted to disturb me. She un-strapped my ankles and then the straitjacket and found myself rather wishing that she would leave me in the jacket for the night. However before I said anything stupid she told me that she had decided to put me in the jacket tomorrow and every night remaining in the week and I was not to make any plans for the weekend because she was going to make me spend eight hours on each of Saturday and Sunday. After that she told me she hoped she would never have to punish me again, but that she would keep the jacket handy in case I ever disobeyed her again. I told her that I was sorry for my behavior and that I would try to be better in future and that I wouldn't try to resist my straitjacket punishment, though I did ask her to keep the straitjacket a secret between us. As she took the straitjacket back to her room I found myself anxiously anticipating the following evening when I would get to experience its warm embrace again. For the rest of the week I avoided my normal school friends and hurried home each evening to begin my "punishment" that was actually no longer a punishment, but a treat that I looked forward to. I had to stop myself at school from daydreaming about feeling Mom strap me into it and I started thinking of the weekend when Mom had promised to confine me for eight hours a day. I didn't know if I could stand the boredom of eight hour in a straitjacket, unable to move even my ankles but I did know I was looking forward to it with great enthusiasm. Each night when I arrived home I had to pretend that I really hated the jacket and was just acting obediently to Mom's commands to dress in my PJ's after evening meal and hold out my arms while she placed the straitjacket on me. It was very hard not to show my excitement as she turned me around and I felt my freedom slipping away as she tightened all the straps into their buckles. She never again over tightened my arms but she always finished with the ankle hobbles and then looped a strap through my ankles to the foot of the bed. I always waited until she left to begin my jerking around that always brought me so quickly to orgasmic delight. On Saturday I almost couldn't wait until two-o'clock in the afternoon when Mom had me dress in my pajamas and strapped me up. I needn't have worried about boredom. After multiple orgasms I fell into a relaxed and peaceful sleep and when Mom came into my room to let me pee and then later came into to just talked to me I found myself well rested, relaxed and not at all like the bitch I had been at the beginning of the week. Even Mom mentioned the change in my behavior and assumed that I didn't want to be straitjacketed any more and so was behaving well out of a fear of extra punishment. I asked her about the straitjacket and she told me of their uses in the hospital where she worked. She told me that they were rarely used anymore but that for many years after her initial training they had been very useful in calming violent patients and that she herself had witnessed, repetitive use of the straitjacket of a period of a few weeks had brought about remarkable changes in her patients. Although they had initially struggled (much like I had the first time) they soon calmed down and would later accept the jacket almost willingly. She did tell me however that there had been bad cases where untrained and very mean hospital staff had tightened the jackets on the patients so much that they screamed in agony after only two hours. She told me that that first day she had deliberately over tightened my sleeve straps to make me aware of what a terrible punishment it could have been (and might be in the future if I ever messed with drugs again) but she had carefully watched the clock and had loosened me within the first hour. She said that in her training many years before, she had had to experience a day in a straitjacket in a padded room and that they had fastened her sleeve straps extremely tightly at first till she could hardly breathe. Within only 30 minutes she had been in agony and had screamed and begged at the door of the cell to be released. After an hour they had released her and this had effectively demonstrated how easy it was to abuse a patient and how all patients should be monitored for discomfort. After resting her, the nursing supervisor had then strapped her back in the straitjacket this time with much more slack in the arms and had then locked her back in the padded cell. This time they kept her locked up for 24 hours except to go to the toilet and there was a short period of half an hour where she was let out still jacketed so that one of her colleagues, another nursing student, could feed her. This confinement was to show that a patient could indeed withstand a properly applied jacket for a long period of time and she had experienced how calming it could be. She told me that they taught her how to manage violent patients safely and how to force them into straitjackets and other restraints. She told me that she thought hey were actually very humane when properly used but she had also been sickened on a few occasions when abusive staff had used them as torture devices of to punish patients that were difficult to manage. She said she had tried to make it up to these patients by having the abusive staff disciplined or even dismissed but that that had made her unpopular early on limiting her promotions. She had met my father over a lawsuit filed by one of the fired staff members because of a straitjacket incidence, my father had successfully defended her then they had fallen in love and married. She further told me that jackets and other restraints were now rarely used largely because of new and very effective drugs and because also of certain abuses of the past which had cast restraint therapy in a bad light despite its many successes over the years. She still believed in its use in general but that it was now out of fashion. She had decided to use it on me because she realized she was losing control of me and that it was a last ditch attempt to bring me to my senses. She said she though that it was working and with that she released me and kissed me goodnight. The next day was Sunday and after church and homework Mom talked again how awful I had been lately, the problems of marijuana and drug usage and my lack of respect for her. She asked me if I had learned my lesson and was I going to behave better in future. Suddenly I was afraid that if it told her yes, then should we forgive me my last day punishment in the straitjacket. I suppose it was the first realization that I enjoyed being straitjacketed and restrained, that I was actually looking forward to this punishment and I didn't know how to tell her that I actually wanted her to restrain me. Suddenly I had a brainwave and told her that yes I had learned my lesson and that I would try to respect her in future and to show that I was ready to obey her and not go fooling with so called school friends who were pressing me to do things that was wrong, I was prepared to accept my punishment right now and almost before she could say anything I had ran to my bedroom and changed into my pajamas. I think Mom was very perplexed at my reactions but now dressed in my PJ's I ran to her room and held my arms out for her to place the straitjacket on me. She stopped halfway through and suddenly told me that she was impressed by how much I had improved during the week and how she didn't think I really needed to suffer the straitjacketing today. I turned and rather sadly smiled at her and said I was now a big girl and was prepared to take my medicine and that she should carry out her plan for me. I held my arms out straight, held my breath and was relieved when she pushed the jacket up my arms and began fastening the straps in the back. I was more relieved when my arms were secured and she pulled out the ankle cuffs with the hobble chain attached and then she picked up the strap that would secure me to my bed and she supported me while I hobbled back to my room. I wobbled over to my bed and lay on it and just as I thought mom was going to put the strap around the foot of the bed she said, "Just for a change I'll show you another thing that some of the meaner staff at the hospital used to do. I shall hobble your ankles to the back of your jacket and you can feel what the "hogtie" position is like. We sometime still use it if the patient is so violent that even in a padded room they can be dangerous to staff by lashing out with their legs and kicking out. Some staff have occasionally suffered some significant bruising injuries because of that. I won't keep you like it for more than a couple of hours but it will let you feel what it is like to be unable to lie on your back for long periods. It's not particularly pleasant as you will find out, but I promise to move the strap back to the foot of your bed later." With that, she had me roll over onto my tummy and she passed the strap between my ankles then had me bend my legs up backwards at the knees and passed the strap above one of the back straps on the straitjacket. This way she had fastened me into the famous hogtie position. With that she smiled, kissed me on the forehead and told me not to struggle too much. Then she left the room. Being hogtied like this was initially incredibly exciting. Even as Mom was pulling my ankles up and strapping them to the back of my jacket I felt the tension building up inside. Within a few seconds of Mom closing the door, I was bucking like a wild thing trying to get movement of the jacket's crotch strap. Soon it's friction against my clit had me orgasming. Like all orgasms when I'm tied up, it was long and powerful made all the more so by my wild gyrations. Eventually it subsided and I lay face down fully spent. Yet within only ten minutes I was repeating the cycle and I was loving every second of it. By about the fourth orgasm I was beginning to tire and I found that the hogtie position was beginning to put a strain on my back and legs. My ankles were also becoming sore where the leather cuffs were chafing my skin. I should mention that the ankle cuffs were actually beautifully made with a tough brown leather outer part and a soft pale kidskin leather inner covering that was stitched over a foam padding on the inside of the strong brown outer leather covering. This made them extremely comfortable, even when tightly fastened. Mom hadn't fastened them too tightly or in any way that would restrict circulation. They were just snug on my skin but they did cause my skin to sweat underneath the cuff and this, together with the friction generated by my thrashing around was all that was needed to start chaffing my skin. Eventually I was working hard to keep moving from one side to the other and all the while an ache was appearing about my knees. I began to dream about straightening my legs and the more I struggled the worse it became. I was beginning to think I would call out for help from mother when she suddenly the door opened and she came into my room. She asked me if I wanted to be released from the hogtie and the jacket but I just told her my legs were on fire with the ache at my knees and that if she just release my legs I'd be very grateful. She turned me back on my belly and quickly released the strap fastening my ankles to the back of the jacket but then she pulled my legs straight and strapped them instead to the foot of the bed. This release from the hogtie felt so wonderful that I didn't mind that I was now fastened to the bed. I just thanked her and promised I'd be very good from now on. When she again asked me if I wanted release from the straitjacket I just smiled and said I wanted to properly complete my punishment and told her to leave me as I was except to come and give me a bathroom break in a couple of hours. I lay on my back and luxuriated in the fact that I could now stretch out and adjust my position anyway I wanted. Sure I could only pull up my legs so far until the bed strap pulled them up short but I also knew that if I wriggled further down the bed I could create even more slack, but instead a just lay there and relaxed. Gradually the realization that I was still a tightly bound prisoner came back to me and I began to get excited again. Within minutes I was starting to wriggle and generate that wonderful friction of the crotch strap between my legs. It didn't take long before I was again bucking in a wonderful orgasm that seemed to go on and on. The panting and struggling against the restricting canvas of the straitjacket was a wonderful aphrodisiac and pulling and tugging on my ankle cuffs heightened the intensity all the more. When I finally stopped I was exhausted and again gave myself over to the warm relaxing experience of the bondage and gradually drifted off into a beautiful, relaxing sleep. Mom woke me a few hours later by releasing the ankle-bed strap and then she eased me off the bed to the bathroom. Once there she unbuckled the crotch strap and guided me onto the bowl where I was able to relieve myself. When I was done, Mom wiped me dry, pulled up my PJ bottoms and then re-secured the crotch strap, pulling it up tightly as always and re-buckling it somewhere behind my back. Finally she helped me hobble back from the bathroom and onto to my bed where she once again refastened my ankles to the foot of the bed. I asked her while she felt it always necessary to secure my ankles to the foot of the bed because after all, with my ankles cuffed so closely together, I could hardly escape. But she replied that it was for safety reasons. She told me that when patients were hobbled they always had to be on some sort of leash that kept them to their bed because if they tried to walk around they could easily trip and fall and might cause some serious injury for instance their heads might bang into some furniture causing serious brain or eye injury. This was especially important if the patient's arms or hands were restricted so that they were prevented from using their upper extremities to steady or support themselves. She said that she couldn't think of a single instance where a patient that required ankle hobbles didn't also need arm or hand restraints and even nowadays where straitjackets were rarely used, it was not uncommon for patients who were at risk for wandering off to be hobbled, on a leash, with their hands in leather cuffs that were secured to a waist belt. She told me that these were never intended to punish patients but to limit their capacity for self injury or indeed injury to staff or other patients. She said that in my case the straitjacket and ankle hobbles were both meant to punish me and restrict me to my bedroom without being able to relieve my boredom by reading books or watching my TV. And it was easier to put a leash round my ankles rather than my waist since she didn't have a strap large enough to go around the bed that my waist could be strapped to. And obviously it would have been very unsafe to leash me by a collar at my neck since I might have strangled myself. It had been several months since she had found my stash of marijuana and she had agonized what to do about it. She loved me dearly (I loved to hear her say that now) but she was worried for my safety and blamed herself for neglecting me so much when I was growing up. It wasn't that she had meant to neglect me but that she had had to work at the only job she knew to earn money to keep us together. (This made me feel bad because instead of helping her I now realized I had done every thing to make it worse). She had considered going to the Police, had thought about spanking or even caning me. She had attempted to reason with me a couple of times but I had always blown her off. Finally she had in desperation brought the straitjacket and the ankle cuffs home from the hospital, selecting new ones that had never been (nor indeed were now ever likely to be) used by the hospital and had put them in her wardrobe. Even then she had resisted the temptation to use them several times in the past few weeks despite intense provocation. It was only when I had pushed her over the limit last Monday night that she had almost snapped and forced me into the straitjacket. She had had to strike me across the face, hard enough to stop me in my tracks while she had forced the sleeves over my arms but not hard enough to cut or injure my face. She said she had hated doing it and even regretted it but she admitted that even with her years of training she had doubted she would be able to get a straitjacket on me without complete surprise. I told her that I was glad she had done it and that I now realized what an absolute brat I had been. That yes, I had been well and truly shocked that first time but that these hours I had been forced to spend alone with my thoughts in the straitjacket had taught me a little about how foolish I had been and I promised to make it up to her. That I didn't mind being punished in this way and was glad she had made me come to my senses. She smiled. I told her that I was glad she had done it and that I now realized what an absolute brat I had been. That yes, I had been well and truly shocked that first time but that these hours I had been forced to spend alone with my thoughts in the straitjacket had taught me a little about how foolish I had been and I promised to make it up to her. That I didn't mind being punished in this way and was glad she had made me come to my senses. She smiled and hugged me and said that she hoped we could now become the best of friends and that we work together to make a lovely home together. With that she kissed me and told me to hang in there for another four hours and then my punishment would be over. I smiled back at her and told her that I loved her very much and she said "and I love you too sweetheart" and turned and gently closed the door. I now felt warm and cuddly all over, secure that Mom did love me and cared deeply about me and again I promised myself that I would make it up to her and start to help her as much as possible. I lay there looking up at the ceiling and I began to see that in only a few hours this life changing experience would soon be over. I began to realize that there was a great deal of power in a straitjacket, that my life had truly changed and that from now on I was a changed person. My one regret was that I might never get to feel the straitjacket again and that would be a tragedy since I loved the helpless feeling it created knowing that I was totally relying on Mom to release me, protect me and help me when I really needed it. Some how that realization that I was currently relying on Mother to both release me and look after me was what she was doing all along and that the straitjacket was nothing more than a device to make me understand. It was powerful stuff. It is true that I also loved the fact that in the straitjacket I could generate multiple orgasms while trapped in its confines and I resolved as I fell asleep to try to think of a way to prevent Mother from throwing the straitjacket away and somehow to get her to place it on me sometime in the future. As I began to think more about this aspect of it I realized that Mom may have also known that it would turn me on. Didn't she tell me that she herself had been confined in one for twenty four hours, and in a padded cell at that. What must that have been like? I know that it would have excited me beyond belief – did it do that to mother too? Perhaps one day I would ask her. It would be a way to bring the straitjacket up again in conversation – something I would have to do if I were ever to get her to strap me up in future. Just thinking these thoughts – especially of being locked up in a padded cell caused me to become excited again and in no time I was jerking myself up and down on the bed, pulling at my arms in their canvass sleeves and pulling at my leather cuffed ankles just to increase the friction in my private regions. Again I orgasmed and I half heard myself yelling out in ecstasy and as I did that half of my brain realized I had always made a lot of noise when the orgasm hit and therefore Mother must have known what I was doing. As the orgasm faded I felt both foolish and guilty but I had seen the love in my Mother's eyes and seen her warm knowing smile and finally knew that she fully understood and that made me love her all the more. Again I drifted off to sleep and I when I awoke I saw that it was dark. I could hear Mom climbing the stairs and I new that she was coming to release me. Sure enough my door opened and she asked me softly if I was asleep. I told her not to worry, that I had just woken up so she turned on the light and began to unfasten my bonds. I had been restrained for eight hours straight but I was in no distress and realized I could have gone on like that indefinitely provided mom looked after my hunger, thirst and bathroom needs. After she had un-strapped my ankles and stood me up to remove the jacket she said, "Well I don't suppose we shall be needing this again so I think I shall return it and the ankle cuffs back to the hospital". As she slipped the straitjacket off of me and it slid to the floor. I bent down, gathered it in my arms and hugged it to my cheeks and said, "Mom, I know you'll never have to use this again to punish me because I am determined to make you proud of me however I think you know by now that in the past couple of days I have come to enjoy being restrained in it, to know that you are there for me and will always be available to look after me. I would like to ask that we keep the straitjacket and use it on me again when I ask for it. In fact we can do the reverse punishment thing and that if I am ever naughty you can refuse to put me in it but if I have been good, and pleased you perhaps you would consider rewarding me by giving me a few hours relaxation in the straitjacket knowing that you'll always be there to look after me when I am so helpless." Mom smiled and said; "Ok little one, if that's what you want I suppose we can keep it. They never use them at the hospital, I think they will all be thrown out soon so we can hang on to it. If you like you can keep it in your wardrobe so it can always remind you of this week. I think, even know, that you have truly changed for the better. This straitjacket was perhaps the best thing that happened to both of us. It's results on you are so much better than I dared hope and I don't mind admitting that that Monday night when I first strapped you in I was extremely worried. I was so relieved the second night when you accepted it without a struggle and by yesterday I knew that you had changed. Yes I heard you cry out when you made yourself come and I knew what you were doing. Of course doing that in a straitjacket was hardly a punishment at the end but I wanted you to realize it yourself so that there would be no secrets between us from now on. It didn't surprise me that you might learn to come in it – that twenty four hours that I had spent straitjacketed in a padded cell had done the same for me, knowing that my nursing student friend, Jenny was looking out for me had caused intense feelings and sensation, the kind we girls all like. It was the reason I always made your crotch strap so tight, to allow you to generate the friction down there if you wanted to and many times I heard that you did. But don't worry little one, your secret is safe with me. We'll keep the straitjacket and ankle cuffs and you can wear them whenever you want, provided your homework and chores are done and that we have no other commitments. But you too must keep our little secret." She then told me to take a shower and brush my teeth and after I had changed into fresh pajamas she put me to bed and told me that I should now rest since I had a long day and she wanted me fresh for school in the morning. I turned over and had the best nights sleep ever. Many years have gone by and my life turned around. We moved into my grandfather's estate, I started a new school, did well, went to university and became a successful professional. I really believe that week changed everything for the better and as you know I still play with straitjackets and other bondage stuff whenever I get the chance. My first love is still that old Posey that I still own – though it is looking a little the worse for wear. Still thanks to you I have been able to acquire several more straitjackets including several Posey's and now have quite a collection. This story is not mine