Timed Trial

I discovered my love of bondage as an adolescent and have enjoyed self-bondage ever since. Of course, ensuring that there will be an out can be challenging while still obtaining the thrill of the predicament. The possibility of discovery also adds to the rush.

The lower level in my last home included a narrow hallway ending in the door to the garage. On either side of the hallway were doors to the laundry room and a bedroom. Let me describe a favorite self-bondage scenario. I dressed in comfortable clothing, usually a tee shirt, corduroy jeans, leather vest and cowboy boots. Next, I put on a leather jock strap over the jeans, locking leather wrist and ankle cuffs, a leather hood, a locking leather bondage collar and locking leather bondage belt. Next, I inserted handcuffs through the ring on the back of the belt.

In preparation for the session, I had already frozen the handcuff key in ice, gotten out my palm grip sander, and programmed an outdoor plug-in timer with seven on/off settings, being sure to have the timer come on at 10 minute intervals for 1 or 2 minutes each time. I also ensured that the door from the hallway into the garage was partially open and that the garage door opener was in my pocket. The ice with key was placed under a slightly elevated grate that I would be standing on and the fishing line attached to the key before freezing was put through the grate.

Finally, it was time to begin my adventure. After standing on the grate, I took 2 pieces of rope and spread-eagled my ankles to the lower hinges on the doors to either side of the hall. Next, I tied the fishing line from the key/ice to my belt and placed the sander inside the jock strap, being sure to plug the sander into the timer that had already been set. Next, I took 2 more pieces of rope to tie the bondage collar to the upper hinges of the doors to my right and left.

After putting nipple clamps on and attaching the blindfold and gag to my hood, it was time to take the final plunge to helplessness. I slipped a belt over my upper arms behind my back, locked my left wrist in the handcuffs, using my right hand clicked open the garage door so that the possibility existed that someone could walk in and find me in my predicament, flipped the opener to the floor, and with a deep breath, clicked the handcuff shut on my right wrist.

So there I was, standing spread-eagled with my ankles and neck tightly secured to the door frames, arms and wrists locked behind my back, tits clamped, hooded, gagged and blindfolded with no possibility of escape until melting ice allowed me to pull the cuff key within reach, and all of this with the possibility of a friend or neighbor walking into the house from the garage and finding me.

In addition, I was just waiting for the sander to whir into action and “massage” my already aching hard-on every 10 minutes for more than an hour. This is a pure prescription for multiple orgasms. The feelings of euphoria mixed with fear, pain and apprehension extending over a 2-hour time frame until the ice melted are hard to describe unless you are a bondage addict as I am.

I wish (?) I could tell you that someone discovered me during one of my sessions and “altered” the plan, but that never happened. Unfortunately, my new home no longer offers the possibility of this particular scenario, but it will always be one of my favorites.

 

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