#prisonerkidnapped

#realtimebondage

#chained

#collared

#prisonerkidnapped

#realtimebondage

#chained

#prisonerkidnapped

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#chained

#manacles

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#chainedtothewall

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#chainedup

Kidnap and captivity commencing at 1.00pm BST…

#prisonerkidnapped

#realtimebondage

#chainedup

#rubberhood

#ballgag

#whitenoise

#steelcollar

#manacles

Video to follow…

#realtimebondage

Here it is…for the first time ever…’The Prisoner’ in a situation way out of his comfort zone and way beyond his control.

Prepare for chains…lots of chains…and LOTS of suffering…

Escape Challenge 14 – #chained Part 1 from Heavy Bondage on Vimeo.

Made this trailer for the #chained movie. Quite like it so I thought I’d share it. Interested in comments on this or the main movie.

Cheers!

Escape Challenge 14 – #chained Trailer from Heavy Bondage on Vimeo.

‘The Prisoner’ is still in the bondage chair…and he’s still wildly out of his comfort zone.

His wrists are manacled behind him. His limbs and upper body are all chained uncomfortably tightly. He has a steel collar padlocked around his neck which is chained to the chair…and he’s been made to wear a rubber hood and he’s ballgagged.

All he can do now is try to deal with the discomfort and pain which are on the increase…and hope that he’s released sometime soon. He really wouldn’t want to be left all alone and chained up in an old abandoned garage, would he??

Escape Challenge 14 – #chained Part 2 from Heavy Bondage on Vimeo.

I’ve never been in real bondage before. For the majority of my life, I’ve practised and enjoyed (and become quite accomplished at) self-bondage. However, I’ve always fantasised after the real thing. Here’s the true story (from my point of view) of how ‘The Prisoner’ finally became the genuine article…

I lay face down on the cold, hard floor. I felt my right wrist grabbed firmly and a cuff locked in place around it. My other wrist was quickly pulled up behind me and cuffed in place. My wrists were now chained together and nestled in the small of my book.

I was taking a hell of a risk. If my judgment was bad, I was now heading into a tremendously dangerous situation. I had no back-up plan and no-one knew where I was.

I couldn’t see my captor. A thick neoprene hood had been placed over my head. It had only two small nose holes and a larger mouth hole which was the perfect size for the large red ballgag which was now firmly strapped into my mouth.

My ankles were pulled up towards my wrists and cuffs were placed around them. My wrists and ankles were now cuffed and chained together. I was hogchained. The chain connecting my wrists and ankles was longish…but not so long as I could fully straighten my body out.

The cuffs gripped my wrists and ankles. It wasn’t painful…but I could feel the metal gently cutting into my flesh.

I lay on my front contemplating my situation. I listened for any sound around me…any sign that my captor was still present. Nothing.

Basically, if I had made a bad choice in being here…I was now totally screwed. And yet, I was tremendously aroused. I realised that if I didn’t do something soon, I would cum, there and then, into by shiny black Umbro football shorts.

I rolled over onto my left side. The desire to cum was still there but it eased as my genitals were released from their crushed location between my body and the hard floor.

I began to explore the chains and cuffs behind my back. As I tugged on them, I quickly realised that I was also attached to a chain which was shackled to the wall. So any thoughts I had of possibly escaping by wriggling across the stone floor were firmly put to rest. I wasn’t going anywhere.

And yet, I had known all along that this exact set of restraints were going to be used on me. I had agreed it all online with my captor.

All of our conversations apart from one had taken place on line using the messenger system on Recon. We’d agreed, pretty much step by step, everything that was going to happen to me. We’d arranged the time I was to arrive at his house and also the exact time when the session would finish. We’d also discussed what I would be wearing.

And then, the weekend before we were due to meet, my captor sent me a text message, and I rang him. We had a very pleasant and longish chat and went over a few things again that we’d discussed online. I was incredibly nervous. At one point, I said, ‘You sound normal’ to him. What an idiot!! What does normal even sound like? And what does not normal sound like? And what right have I got to call anyone normal or not??!?

We chatted online again several times during the week. My nerves…and then fear…started to kick in. I had never ever been tied or chained by anyone before in my life. What was I doing even considering it?

On the morning of my captivity, I began to feel increasingly sick with nerves at the thought of what I was going to do. I had carried out some online research. I had spoken online to ‘friends’ of my captor and received positive references.

However, in real practical terms,I had no safeguards in place. I had never met my captor before. There would be no independent third party involved in the scene. There was no-one with whom I could arrange a phone call check…and no-one knew where I was going to go.

But I still went. It wasn’t a long journey from my house to the location where I was going to be kept. But even so, several times, during the car journey, I nearly turned around. When I arrived at my captor’s house, I drove straight past it deliberately. I then pulled into the side of the road at the end of the street just to gather my thoughts. I then turned around, pulled up on my captor’s drive…and he appeared at the front door to greet me.

He invited me in. We sat and chatted for a while and then he took me on the walk to the location where my captivity was to take place.

I was going to be held in what was, for all intents and purposes, a dungeon…an old breeze block building with shackles and chains hanging from the walls…and a bondage chair.

It was dimly lit. It was musty. It was damp and dank. It was the perfect location in which a kidnap victim could be stored…far enough away from local residences that struggles and cries for help would not be heard.

I pulled my trainers and jeans off. I had already come pretty much clothed for my captivity. I was wearing a shiny black Adidas Chile 62 training top (nothing underneath), shiny black Umbro football shorts (nothing underneath), black football socks with white striping, shin pads, and black football boots.

I stood waiting…acutely aware that my shorts and what was beneath were starting to show my body’s reaction to my soon to start ordeal.

My captor gave me my neoprene hood. I pulled it on myself and zipped it closed at the rear of my head. It was tight. It clung to my face. I was now in a world of darkness.

My captor then pushed the large red ballgag into my mouth and strapped it in place. This was the first time I had ever been ballgagged by anyone other than myself.

I was lowered onto the floor, cuffed hand and foot and chained to the wall.

My mind was racing at this point…and I was also acutely aware that I was breathing at a rate of knots. I tried to calm myself…but the thought that I had made a huge mistake was now dominant in my mind.

I considered my options…but my wrists and ankles were cuffed behind me and chained to a breeze block wall…and I was hooded and ballgagged…so I had no options, other than to lie there on my side and wait.

I grunted and moaned a few times. I explored my chains with my fingers. I pulled on them. I listened carefully. It sounded like my captor had abandoned me already and left me in my chain bondage.

And then I felt his presence. I felt him step over me. I felt his hand brush over my neoprene covered head. He was doing something to my chains. He grabbed my body and pushed me back onto my front. He yanked on the chain connected to my ankles and brought them up closer to my wrists.

Shit…he was going to put me in a tight hogtie. This wasn’t what we’d discussed. I really started to feel panic surging in my brain and my belly. He grabbed the cuff on my right wrist…and tightened it…

It was now beginning to seem like I had badly fucked up…

More to follow…if people are interested…

You can find direct links to the videos here…

Trailer

Part 1 of ‘#chained’

Part 2 of ‘#chained’

‘I had never been tied or chained by anyone in my life’.

That’s what I said in the first part of this article. Thinking about it, that’s not, strictly speaking, true.

I used to be a Boy Scout…and everyone knows what happens there. A ‘rite of passage’ at scout camp was being staked out…spreadeagled on the ground like an X with wrists and ankles tied to large wooden tent pegs which had been hammered into the ground. I had been staked out.

I also used to play tie up games with my best mate through our mid to late teenage years. I used to enjoy being tied up but I also used to enjoy tying him up. See attached photo…identity of my mate obscured for obvious reasons…

But I had never been in a situation where I had put myself in the hands of someone who I had never met in my life and allowed him to cuff me hand and foot and chain me to a wall…and as I lay on my belly in my shiny black football kit, hooded and ballgagged,  with my captor pulling my wrists and ankles up into a hogtie position, I was seriously wondering if I’d made a huge mistake.

But, of course, I hadn’t. There should never have been any doubt in my mind. There was, because this was my first time in this situation, but there shouldn’t have been.

My captor released me. And then he hugged me…gently, but firmly. And I nearly cried. I’m not sure why. It may have been the relief of being released. It may have been that the realisation that my trust had not been betrayed. It may have been because, generally, I’m not a huggy person and I’m not quite sure how to cope. Nevertheless, I nearly cried. But I didn’t.

I’ve made that whole situation sound like a bit of an ordeal. Perhaps it was. However, in terms of bondage and captivity…and discomfort…and ultimately, pain…a far greater ordeal was now to follow.

My freedom from the chains didn’t last long. I was now to undergo the main part of my captivity. I was to be chained and locked down as a ‘kidnap’ victim until, pretty much, release time.

My captor had a purpose built bondage chair…and that’s where I was placed. He’d recently purchased a set of heavy, steel wrist manacles. The thrill and rush of excitement which passed through my body as the first manacle was locked on my left wrist was incredible.

My wrists were then pulled behind the back rest and the second manacle was fixed around my wrist wrist. The manacles didn’t quickly lock into place. They weren’t secured with a standard padlock or key, but with an Allen key, so it took a while before each manacle was screwed closed. This only added to the thrill of wearing them, they wouldn’t be coming off quick, that was a fact.

There was only one solid link of chain between the two manacles, and so, with my wrists pulled behind the bondage chair back rest, I could barely move my wrists up or down, left or right, or in any direction. There was now a tension on my arms and wrists which kept them firmly in place.

My captor chained my ankles next. The front legs of the bondage chair were placed a good distance apart. My ankles were chained to the outside of each leg meaning my legs were splayed at least ninety degrees apart from each other. If your mind works in a certain way, you’ll understand exactly why. The photo adjacent to this writing may makes things clearer…

All of this was filmed. Lots of close ups of my restraints were recorded. I have an interest in digital film making and my captor has a background which lends itself to the kind of ‘drama’ we wanted to record on (digital) film. The ‘movies’ which show my captivity are the product of a ‘meeting of minds’. I really like what we’re achieving.

Next, my captor zipped up the neoprene hood over my head and strapped the large red ballgag back in place. That red ballgag is slightly too large and really fills my mouth making intelligent and intelligible communication all but impossible. It also makes my jaw ache…not so much while I’m wearing it…but the day after.

It was in these early stages of my longer term captivity that I was acutely aware of the sexual rush I was feeling. The evidence in my shorts would bear witness to that. But, as my captivity continued, and more and more restraints were added, and as my discomfort increased, my awareness of any kind of sexual feeling completely dissipated. I didn’t expect this to happen at all…and this became a real problem for me. But I’ll come back to this later.

I was now chained hand and foot to the bondage chair. I was hooded and gagged. I was excited. I was scared. Once again, that lingering doubt around whether I would be released from my current situation was lurking in the back of my mind.

I took pleasure from shifting around on my seat and ‘struggling’ for freedom just to get a feel for how the chains and manacles felt. For the time being, I was getting some satisfaction from the situation I was in. I was feeling empowered by the fact that thick steel chains and heavy manacles were needed to keep me ‘prisoner’. This was as close as I would get to genuinely enjoying my captivity.

A four metre length of chain was then wrapped several times around my upper body and the bondage chair back rest. This had the immediate effect of pulling me back into the chair and severely restricting my ability to shift around in an attempt to remain comfortable in my bondage. I was now hooded and so had become more acutely aware of how the chains were beginning to feel on my limbs. When senses are removed as my sight had been, other senses kick into play and start to work overtime. My body now felt locked into an awkward and unnatural position…and was starting to complain.

I think something must have shifted in my mind at that point and, although I wasn’t immediately aware of it, subconsciously, my brain and my body were both starting to come to some form of consensus.

After all these years of fantasising about being in the exact position I now found myself…wearing shiny nylon shorts and sports kit…chained, hooded and ballgagged in an unfamiliar location in an old run down building…about to face a stretch of time ‘kidnapped’ and restrained with no immediate release…I was starting to realise that I didn’t like what was happening to me.

To be concluded…

You can find direct links to the videos here…

Trailer

Part 1 of ‘#chained’

Part 2 of ‘#chained’

I have now been tying, chaining and restraining myself in various ways since my early teens…possibly longer.

All of my early encounters with self bondage were facilitated by the use of whatever I could find in my parents’ house…belts, ties, audio visual cables, old bits of rope…basically, anything I could find which could be used as some sort of improvised restraint.  I started to build up a plastic bag of bondage ‘equipment’ which I kept at the back of the cupboard space under my bed.

And, as soon as I was guaranteed an empty house, I would tie myself up.

It didn’t take long before my self bondage became quite thorough. I would tie my ankles and my knees and thighs. I would wriggle my upper body into a green military belt which would pin my arms to my sides. I would gag and blindfold myself and I would cuff my wrists behind my back with an old pair of metal child’s handcuffs which I owned.

Even though I used child’s cuffs, I soon discovered that if I linked the cuffs directly through each other (which made the chain between them redundant) and then put them around my wrists, my arms would be locked together quite effectively in a manner which was difficult to escape from quickly.

I soon discovered that, if I knelt whilst I was putting on my restraints, behind my back I could connect my cuffed wrists to my tied ankles with a very short length of rope. When I then fell onto my side (or even better, my front) my body would attempt to straighten and I would be pulled into a really tight hogtie.

Of course, I didn’t know that it was called a hogtie…but remember, this was before the days when I could access photos on the internet. It seems that the idea of a hogtie is built into those of us who have thoughts of bondage and restraints.

The other commonality with almost all of my early bondage (and also now) was crotch ropes and shorts. For me, it was essential to be wearing a tight pair of silky P.E. or football/rugby shorts when I was tied up…and there would need to be crotch ropes pulled tightly between my buttocks and either side of my crotch.

I’ll come onto my interest in shorts another time…but the shorts were, and still are, an essential item to making my bondage enjoyable. And I really did enjoy all my sessions where I was able to restrain myself in various different and interesting ways. I’ve enjoyed self bondage for all of my adult life…and I’ve enjoyed sharing the outcomes of my self bondage experiences with anyone on the internet interested enough to find and watch my videos.

And so, in my current situation, where I’m already properly chained up hand and foot, ballgagged and hooded, wearing shiny sports gear with slightly too small black Umbro football shorts, at the hands of my captor (someone who I had never met before in my life) with no hope of freeing myself, I’m wondering why I’m not enjoying myself more.

I was seated in a bondage chair. My wrists had been manacled behind me and behind the back rest, my legs had been pulled wide apart and my ankles has been chained to the front legs of the chair…and my upper body had just been pinned to the back rest with a four metre long length of chain.

My captor had decided that he wouldn’t put all the restraints on me at the start of the session. He was going to slowly escalate my chain bondage over the period of my captivity. However, my body had already decided that it wasn’t happy with the un-natural position it was being kept in…and my brain was coming to the same conclusion.

A steel collar was locked around my neck. It was my steel collar. I had bought it only a few weeks before. I’d worn it several times at home. I loved the feel and the weight of the cold steel when locked around my neck…and it was a tight fit…almost flush to the circumference of my neck. I had asked for it to be used as part of my ‘captivity’.

Chains were duly locked to my collar and my neck was pulled back closer to the back rest and chained in place. Once again, I seemed to lack the ‘pleasure’ which I thought I would get from the situation. My ever increasing bondage wasn’t taking me to a ‘happy place’.

More time elapsed in which I tried to ‘enjoy’ my situation…but it didn’t seem to be happening. Anyone glancing at my shorts at this time might have argued the point but, for me, any sexual feelings or tension which I may have been getting from the situation were far, far away from the thoughts in my head and the feelings in my body.

I was left in my chains and bondage again. After all, this is what I had wanted…and this is what I had agreed to.

I’m not sure that I was bored at any point. I’ve read online accounts that say that real time bondage and captivity can become boring. To be honest, at this point, I don’t think I’d been left chained up for anywhere near enough time for boredom to settle in.

I’d also read that at some point, a captive…or bondage victim…or slave…whatever…drops into some kind of bondage subspace.

This didn’t happen. At all times, I was acutely aware of all my restraints and the various degrees to which they were uncomfortable and starting to cause dull pain. I certainly wasn’t entering any trance like state.

Having said that, I had no idea as to how much time was (or wasn’t) passing.

Time passed (or didn’t pass) and then I heard the clanking and rattling of further chains. I felt afraid.

I felt hands grab my right leg and pull it wider and further apart from my left leg. I felt cold chains being wrapped around my upper part of my thigh just below my groin. They were pulled TIGHT before they were padlocked. I remember thinking that very clearly. Similarly, my left leg was pulled out and chains wrapped around the upmost part of my thigh.

Crotch chains!! A fantasy of mine!! I’d discussed this with my captor online in the discussions we’d had before my visit. And now I had quickly discovered that I hated them.

It hurt having my legs pulled wider apart.

I hated what was being done to me. I hated being in bondage.

And then, almost immediately, the chain attaching my steel collar to the back rest was pulled much tighter and locked off. My upper body had straightened and pulled back into a very uncomfortable position. My legs were hurting. My wrists were hurting…especially my left wrist where the manacle seemed to be digging in especially tightly.

Watch the video. This all happens at the end of Part 1. You can see that I go very quiet and all the moaning, groaning and struggling stops.

At this point, I’m desperately trying to calm myself and…at the same point…I’m wondering why the hell I let myself get into this strange and sinister situation.

What you don’t see in the video (because it fades out for dramatic effect) is me somehow managing to call out the name of my captor around the ballgag.

My captor knows that something has changed…and he stops. He removes my gag and my hood…and we talk. However, he doesn’t remove any of my chains.

I can’t remember what we talked about. I know I asked to see the video monitor screen on the camera…simply so I could see what I looked like in all my chains. Seeing myself in bondage has always been a turn on for me.

But he didn’t remove my chains…any of them.

I think we may have discussed the option of finishing right there…of releasing me from my ‘kidnap’.

But we didn’t…because, in my mind, I knew we had discussed the possibility of a tight rubber hood being used instead of the friendlier neoprene hood. And I love the feel of a tight rubber hood stretching over my face. And I wanted to feel what it would be like to have a captor putting a rubber hood over my head…and me having no way of removing that hood.

And so, after about ten minutes or so, my captor pulled the rubber hood over my head and zipped it up. And he strapped a different ballgag (and head harness) firmly around my head and in my mouth.

And he added further chains to my already completely bound and immobile body.

Watch Part 2 of the video. You’ll see it all there.

You’ll also see that I’m much more subdued because I find a rubber hood harder to deal with than any other kind of hood. I think that it’s because a rubber hood can completely stop all air flow if used incorrectly…and I quite like breathing. Breath control isn’t in my list of kinks…at least, I don’t think it is.

And finally, I was released…which was a tremendous relief to me….because there was always that nagging doubt that I wouldn’t be…and right now, there is again….because we’re doing it again.

Despite the fact that I’ve now realised (and a second experience with another captor has proved this) that I don’t enjoy the actual in the moment experience of being captured and restrained, I’m doing it again.

And I’m afraid, because I know my captor will up his game…because he’s learned a little bit more about me and what makes me tick.

We’ve already discussed what’s coming next…and some of it is going to be extremely challenging for me.

I’m going back for more. Pity me…

If you want to see exactly what this article is describing then here are the direct links to the videos…

Trailer

Part 1 of ‘#chained’

Part 2 of ‘#chained’

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#realtimebondage

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