The Addicted Heart of Pain: A Journey to the Golden Cocoon Part 1

This is a story I wrote a few years back. It about a woman who is addicted to pain and knows that it can destroy her, but still seeks the blissful “golden cocoon” that lies on the other side of the pain and humiliation. Her addiction controls her, but she finds help from an unexpected source– her Uncle Jack and her sister Tracey. She also finds out that she is not the first of her lineage to have “the yearning.”

This story is more about bondage and erotic pain than actual sex, so if that is not your kink, you may want to skip this one. Those who understand, will understand. Those who do not are often offended. You have been warned.

This is part one of four parts. Each part stands more or less by itself, but makes a lot more sense if you have read the previous parts.


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WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

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I have already told you how I realized I was different when after a spanking by my boyfriend my senior year in high school, I was enveloped in a warm cocoon. My first year in college I began a quest to recapture that wonderful, warm feeling. Three years later, I finally found my cocoon once again with the help of my uncle and his wonderful self-controlled, bondage pain and pleasure machines. I also learned that the secret was that the pain or humiliation had to be inevitable, but I had to ultimately cause it or control it. In other words, I learned that I was a self-bondage pain slut.

I didn’t yet realize just how addicting my yearning for the golden cocoon actually was and what would eventually be needed to control that addiction. This final part is the story of how I discovered my addiction, and what would control it.

My uncle had designed a variety of computer controlled self-bondage devices and I studied his designs and tried to figure out how to modify the controller for my own use. I would often sunbathe out on the patio behind the ranch house. Since there was no one for miles and miles, I would often sunbathe completely nude. I could only stay out there for a short while because I burn easily, but one afternoon, lying out in the sun in a giant, naked X, an idea began to gnaw at the back of my mind.

All I had to do was stay too long out on the patio and the pain would be inevitable, and I would have caused it. I thought about that for a while, but it didn’t seem to cause any stirrings toward my cocoon. Maybe if I added bondage? Maybe if I added bondage and humiliation? Maybe if I added bondage and humiliation in a public place?

The sudden wetness between my legs told me that my body was starting to agree with my mind.
If I could somehow hang myself out in the sun for everyone to see, it would take me to my cocoon. Hanging there naked would be the humiliation. And since I am pretty fair skinned, a few hours in the sun would result in a pretty intense sun burn. That would be the pain. The question was where to do it, and how to make it inevitable, and how to string myself up for a long period of time without permanently hurting my arms, wrists and shoulders?

OK, maybe I should have asked my uncle how to do it, he was, after all, the one who designed and built all these strange bondage machines. But I was pretty far into the “I have to ultimately control it,” aspect of self-bondage. I was going to figure this out on my own. Besides, lying in the sun each afternoon and thinking about what I might do gave me mini-fixes of almost being in my cocoon.

Strangely enough, I found the answer to my questions on the cable History Channel. There was supposed to be a “History of Sex” special that I wanted to watch, but the programming was screwed up and I had to suffer through

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THE END