My Bare Selfbondage Ordeal 3

It has been some time since I did anything worth writing about with my self bondage, I had repeated my earlier adventures several times with minor variations, but nothing new. I was getting bored and needed a new challenge, and I thought some form of suspension bondage would jump me up to the next level. I instinctively knew it could be deadly dangerous, and the more I read, the more I learned about safety. I knew what I had already done could be dangerous, but with those I still had maintained the freedom of travel. The act of fixing oneself to an unmovable object, like a tree, and having to work out your release before you move was much more exciting, and risky. I also knew if I cuffed myself to a tree and I couldn't escape on my own I could have to spend days at the mercy of the weather and wild animals before any rescue.

I therefore realised I would have to involve my room mate in my safety plan, but obviously not what I was up to, unless of course I seriously screwed up and I was in mortal danger. If that ever happened, the embarrassment of getting caught naked and bound by her would be a secondary issue, but I also daydreamed about what she would make me do to keep it a secret. I didn't think she was into other girls as she has a steady boyfriend, or what she likes to call a manfriend. He's a great guy and replaced the window in my car for me that I had to smash out once.

For my first suspension bondage adventure I decided to go easy, a kind of warm up for what I really wanted to do. I went to my local hardware store and bought a length of 5/16" rope, but specifically not clothes line. The clothes line at the store was only rated at sixty pounds working load, fine for clothes, but inadequate for suspending my little self safely. The reason I used such small line was the clothes line tensioning thing I bought earlier. It was a metal device that let 5/16" rope only slide through it in one direction, and was designed to pull all the slack out of a clothes line.

There was a way to pull the collar on the front of the thing to release the tension and let the line run the other way, and I had a plan to prevent me from being able to do just that once everything was in position. I knew if I attached one end of this thing to my thick leather cuffs with a short chain and padlock, once the lock was closed and the line was pulled taunt, I would be unable to reach the tension release and committed to the ordeal I had planned.

I thought I had a pretty good plan and I collected the things I needed and left a note for my room mate that explained where I was "hiking" in the woods, and when I expected to return. There would be a second note on the front seat of my car describing the general area where she could find me, and that if she were reading this note something had gone very wrong. I drove to the first place I started my adventures so long ago and parked on the side of the seldom used road. I placed my room mate's second note on my drivers seat and got out, only to walk around to the other door not facing the deserted road, because you never know who could drive through at the worst possible time. I was wearing sweats, and I had to strip out of them quickly in case somebody came.

Nobody did, and I was soon wearing only a white tee shirt that I cut the collar out of, as well as several other strategic cuts all over the thing. I was also wearing a brand new pair of boy shorts panties, they looked good on me but weren't the least bit thin and skimpy like the kind of thing I would wear under a dress. For what I had in mind they were perfect though, and I locked my only key to my padlocks in my car and I walked away from the road quickly. I was carrying the several things I needed and wearing more than I usually did in the woods, although still not decently dressed.

I walked for about an hour, not really paying too much attention to my surroundings as I searched for the perfect tree for my ordeal. I found it in a large sycamore tree with a thick horizontal limb approximately twenty feet off of the ground. I carefully paced off fifty feet from the underside of the limb and removed my sneakers and placed the key ring I had in my hand inside one of them. Back at the tree it took me several throws to get the rope over the limb, but once I did I ran the free end of the rope through the tensioning thing I bought with me and let it hang at head level. The other end of the line I snaked through the neck opening of my cut up shirt and then through the various other cuts along the back of it. After I had it where I wanted I further snaked it into my panties and out one leg hole and back into the other. I tied a slip knot behind my back with some difficulty, and then tied the rest of the long length to the hand cuffs laying at my feet.

I knew I could still back out, but I had no intention of doing so as I cuffed my ankles together, having first wrapped the rope around the center chain links many times. My ankles are thin enough to hand cuff, but not by much and I only caught the second latch with one, and the third with the other. The feeling of my ankles forced together was intoxicating, and I had to hurry and finish my ordeal before I put my hands to another use. I padlocked my short length of chain to the loop in the clothesline tensioning thing hanging near my face, and hung my open second padlock on the other end of the chain. I picked up my leather cuffs, and with only a seconds hesitation fastened them onto my wrists and to the hanging padlock.

Now I was committed and I loved it. I stood there just relishing the feeling of my helplessness and wondering what somebody would do if they happened upon me at that moment. I knew the only direction was forward, and I grabbed the free end of the rope hanging out of the tensioning thing with my teeth and reached upward with my cuffed wrists. The tensioning thing slid up the rope and locked, and I pulled back down gingerly with my cuffed wrists and was rewarded with my panties efficiently bisecting my ass cheeks, after the slip knot pulled tight gathering the cloth into a thin mass. I was surprised they didn't tear apart at the first pull, but they were new. I savored this new feeling before I grabbed the free end of the rope again in my mouth and pushed my wrists up, and this time I reached up as far as I could. I just stood there enjoying the moment for several seconds...

The next pull was also gentle and I could feel the friction of the rope going over the thick branch as bits of bark fell into my long hair. I was up on my toes, without consciously meaning to be, and I felt the weight coming off of them, and I was also loosing my balance as my wrists had me pitched forward. My unbelievably strong panties were getting pulled deeply into my sex as well, but the pressure there was not entirely unpleasant. The diameter of the massive limb separated my two ropes and bent me forward, and the position I was forced into inadvertently helped my panties support my body as the stretched shirt smashed my breasts. I pulled just a little further and my toes swung clear of the dirt, and my panties refused to tear.

I knew if I kept climbing I would eventually reach the top of the limb, and if my panties suddenly ripped free I was certain to do a face plant and get badly injured. I regretted the hand cuffs on my ankles then as it made landing on my feet much more difficult. I hung there evaluating my options, and the pressure on my clitoris was just not enough to put me over the edge despite the very erotic nature of my situation.

My search for orgasm accidentally lead to my escape as I started bouncing my bottom up and down into my panties for relief. I didn't get any, but I did succeed in starting a tear at the waist band that was trying to migrate around to my spread ass cheeks. I knew I was making progress when my toes brushed the dirt again, and my bouncing eventually had the stubborn panties torn away from the front of the thick waist band, and what was left of then was now trying to pull through my cut up tee shirt. The rope acted like lacing in a corset through the holes I made in it, cinching it tight around my chest and further mashing my breasts. I had not intended for this to happen, I only wanted the rising rope to pull the shirt off of me, stripping me in the process. I cut the neck out of the shirt at home so it wouldn't strangle me, and made the other various cuts to weaken it.

At that point my knees were close to the ground, and I thrashed around to tear the shirt away from my body without pulling myself higher. The thick waist band from my panties was pulled up my body painfully by the fabric the slip knot was bit fast to, and the shirt was ripping past my breasts and manipulating them like no lover ever had. I had to pull more slack out of the tensioning thing with my teeth, and the shirt was finally mostly over my head acting like a blindfold, but both lines were trapped inside the neck opening along with my outstretched arms.

This was a second thing I didn't expect, and could prevent the lines from running freely at the top of the limb I was still attached to. My waist band was roughly being dragged up my stomach, and I knew I would have to "bite the bullet" and drag it up and over my already abused breasts if the remains of my panties didn't fall apart first. With another pull the waist band was under both of my breasts and forcing them up from the base. This obstruction forced the waistband to climb higher on my back, and stopped the stretched waistband from moving any further as it painfully choked my breasts from the base.

I hate to bail out on any ordeal, but it looked like that was my best option right then. I could just sit down and let the waist band do whatever it wanted to my breasts, or I could stand up tall and get enough slack in the chain I was attached to and pull the release collar on the tensioning thing and escape. To motivate myself I vowed that if I bailed out on this ordeal, I would tell my roommate every detail of the real reason of why I smashed out my own car window all those months ago.

With my renewed commitment I sat down hard on the rope indirectly holding the waistband, and I was immediately rewarded with it popping over my breasts, scraping and pinching them good. It actually hurt more when they flopped back down under the pull of gravity, and I thought of it as pulling off a bandage, the fast way was actually less painful.

Now all I had to do was crawl over to my sneakers and retrieve the key to my handcuffs that were on my ankles, and gather my things and walk back to my car and retrieve the keys to the padlocks. The rope holding my ankles wasn't the problem, there was more than enough of it to easily reach my sneakers. My wrists however were still attached to the rope that was still twisted up with my shirt and panties high overhead, and it refused to pull over top of the thick limb. I couldn't take any more of this ordeal and I reached up and pulled the release collar on the tensioning device and pulled my bound wrists free of the rope.

I dropped to the dirt in frustration and rolled onto my back and savaged my pussy with my fingers as I spread my cuffed legs as far apart as possible. It wasn't the best orgasm ever, or even all that good as I realised I was obligated to share my most bazaar behavior with my room mate, and face whatever judgement she passed. The smallest tug with my cuffed ankles pulled the rope free the other way, and as it fell on top of me I realised I may have to find a new room mate!

19.12.11