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 chain
s 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…
