Going For A Self-Bondage Walk

This is a completely true story. Bondage to me not only felt good but it also could be used as a way of creating the humiliation which I so much craved. (And I haven't the slightest idea why.) At Halloween I would always find a costume which would mesh the two, most often going as a black cat in leotard and tights, with a collar locked on my neck that also locked the zipper of the leotard. I fondly remember a bunch of girls who were dressed in roller derby costumes who took a look at my collar and exclaimed, "You're locked in!" I loved it.

And I did much the same when I went on a trip where there was an outside pool - - I wore the turtleneck leotard and tights with the collar, telling girls in the pool that this was the only way my wife would let me out of her sight to swim because she did not trust me. Of course they had a good laugh at my expense.

I was a teacher and thus had the summers off, and during those months, my schedule was anything I wanted. I would often sleep late, take an afternoon nap, and when I got home from the movies or a show, I was wide awake. So I would read or write letters, and then I would walk down to the local mailbox when I finished, maybe 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning.

Let me set the scene for you from my house to the mailbox. It was along a four-lane road which was one of the main arteries through the area. Each piece of property was about 100 feet wide. First was a house, with bushes in front to hide in. Then a small street, a yard without bushes, a yard with bushes, and a yard without bushes. Then three stores, separated by a driveway where there were cars to duck behind. Then a gas station with no protection and another four-lane major road. On the other side, a gas station and then three stores, with the mailbox in front of the last one. There was a narrow gangway between the gas station and the first store.

I had three advantages: (1) despite these being main roads, there was little traffic at that time of night; (2) this intersection was the highest point for about a mile in any direction so one could see a long ways; (3) you can see headlights on a car long before the car can see you.

I started out walking down there in leotard and tights, and then leotard alone. Nothing wrong with that, though maaybe provacative for the 1970s. Then I started carrying a pair of handcuffs with me, and after mailing the letter, I put them on. First in front of me, and then behind my back. Now I was completely helpless if anybody had seen me! As the weather got warmer, I would often wear a pair of dance trunks - - women's style with no front pouch. And just like with the leotard, nothing underneath; I was rather small in the crotch so it was not obscene, just sugestive.

But that soon didn't excite me so I used the bondage belt I had, which was really a gymnastic spotter's belt which our school had discarded when it was not safe for supporting a body. But it made a perect bondage belt! Five inches wide, heavy canvas, a heavy ring on either side (or front and back), and a buckle large enough that a padlock through the holes could lock it shut. (The belt looked good on the leotard but was a bit strange with the trunks, and since the canvas rubbed on my skin so I used it only with a leotard.)

I threaded a pair of handcuffs though the front ring and then put on the belt and locked it. After mailing the ltter, I snapped the cuffs shut. This was very good! The next time I tried them behind my back and this was VERY restrictive. I alternated those for the next few times. You may wonder why, with the behind-the-back so much more exiciting. Well, I added a butt plug for the "front" times since I could not reach back there once the cuffs were on. And the plug sliding in and out when I walked drove me nuts. More than once it got me so hot that I reached down and stroked the bottom of my balls, and immediately had a huge cock and wonderful orgasm.

But even that grew tame so I went another step forward, first without the belt and then with it - - I put on the handcuffs before I left the house. So not only did I have twice as far to go but it was also fun trying to put the letter in the mailbox with my hands behind myback. Then I went both ways with the belt on. One time with the belt and hands in back, I missed the mailbox and dropped the letter on the ground. I had to almost lie down to pick it up again, and that was when I saw a car in the distance. I managed to get up and hide in the gangway just in time, with my heart really beating.

Any of the times I reached the yard next door, I didn't care if anybody saw me. If they did, I could duck out of sight by the time they realized what they think they had seen. One time a car did hit the brakes but then continued on. Another time, the car hit the brakes and made a U-turn down the road; by this time I was inside my house. (There were bushes shielding me from where they U-turn was made.) I watched as the car drive back and forth slowing, and finally left. By that time the summer was over and I decided that my fun was over.

The following summer I didn't do that but went one step further, which I had always wanted to do. It was a hot night and it started to pour rain. I went outside - - again, 2:00 in the morning - - wearing only shoes and a hat which I pulled down in front my face. The rain was so heavy that the XXXXXXXXXXXXX couldn't have been very much, and with my not being large in the crotch, there was no large naked cock to see. A driver would have wondered, "Did I see what I think I saw?" I hid in bushes and as a car approached, walked along and stuck out my thumb as if hitching a ride. One car did come to a screeching halt and backed up; from my hiding place I could see that it was a bunch of girls when they opened the side window and called out to me. What an invitation, but I had to refuse it. They left and another car slowed down and made a U-turn; I was sure I saw a light on the top so I headed indoors. And from safely inside, I could see the car sweeping the yard and adjacent area with a spotlight! I did wonder what would have happened if they had come knocking on my door to see if I had seen anything; after all, how could I claim to be asleep in bed with wet hair?

I got my "humiliation" thrill when the police report in the following week's paper mentioned me. And that was the end of my outdoor adventures; self-bondage stayed inside. At least when I was in my hometown! As I said, that was 30 years ago. There is no way I would do it today; you never know who has a cellphone and would call the police and you would not know it until they arrived. Of course there is a question of whether any of the non-naked adventures were illegal, but there is always the charge of "disorderly conduct" when the police decide to make it. 

Tom

leotardguy2000@yahoo.com
 
 

30.03.04