There's a basic problem to overcome during self bondage: how to feel like you are bound, unable to get out, completely helpless... and yet still able to get out. There's always a compromise someplace. The compromise is either that you really are bound and helpless until some event occurs (like a timer goes off) and the means for escape is provided, or that you feel helpless but in reality there is some slip knot, position, or trick to use to get untied later.
When I first played with self bondage I wasn't sophisticated enough, nor did I have the resources to set timers or special techniques to release a key after a period of time. I relied on tight ties that I was still somehow able to get out of. The problem with this technique is that sometimes... you aren't able to get out as easily as you thought. (You may remember my first real experience with binding myself, when I was unable to get out and had to crawl to the kitchen to get a knife).
So I discovered stress bondage positions when trying to get myself into a nice tight hogtie that was hard to get out of. My parents were gone for the evening on a personal date, it was 6 PM and I didn't expect them home until 11 or later.
I stripped my clothes off. For whatever reason, feeling naked, completely exposed and vulnerable, greatly enhanced the experience for me.
While still young and inexperienced, I had obtained a dildo. This I placed inside myself, and then tied a waist /crotch rope to hold it in.
Then, a frog tie. I had no idea that was what it was called, I simply knew that tying my legs to my thighs made me feel remarkably helpless and was uncomfortable; the feeling of discomfort was more and more important in my bondage sessions. Being uncomfortable made it feel more like I was truly bound and helpless.
Next was the ankle restraints. These went around my ankles; with a nice pull I got that tight. There was a pre-measured length of rope extending from the ankle tie. At the end of that was a cinch knot; essentially a hangman's knot. A hangman's knot has the characteristic of constantly growing tighter as you pull on it. But if you can relieve the pressure, you can actually slide it back and it becomes looser. I counted on this to get out.
Time for the gag. Again, the whole point in the self bondage mechanism was to give the illusion that I couldn't get out, even if I could (which was hopefully the case). It was a ball gag, the one piece of bondage equipment that I had been able to obtain at that age.
Ball gags don't actually stop one from talking or making noise, but they do rather humiliate one, especially with the drooling, which I tend to do a lot.
Then came the last step. Securing my wrists. In order to make me feel as helpless, uncomfortable and restrained as possible, I wanted my wrists tied behind my back tightly. I rolled onto my stomach on my bed, reached behind and grabbed hold of the rope length dangling from my ankles.
I have to mention that by now I was incredibly aroused. I needed this. The helpless, bound feeling was something I truly needed and was increasingly associated with sexual arousal for me. To put it simply, I was wet. Really wet.
I pulled the end of the ankle rope through the metal bars that were part of my bed's headboard. The rope wasn't long enough to get all the way through and back around. This was intentional so I had to arch my back, bringing my legs and ankles as far up as I could to give some slack.
The slack was barely enough to get the end of the rope around the headboard bar, and grab it. I pulled on it, which in turn pulled on my ankles, arching my back even more. This should have been a clue to me I was getting in over my head, but... well, I was so aroused and excited by now I wasn't thinking straight. I pulled and pulled, lifting my legs up behind me until the end of the rope was about even with the space between my shoulders.
The end of that rope had the cinch knot. Holding on I got one wrist through the loop, and then with great effort, I got the second wrist into the loop. I was still holding the rope with my hand, straining to keep my back arched and legs raised back behind me.
I suddenly understood what a self imposed strappado felt like. My legs and lower body were pulling on the rope that was holding my wrists tied together, lifting them up behind me.
I grunted. I moaned. I wanted a vibrator. I wanted to cum. I was so fucking turned on. I struggled with the ropes; this did no good because any struggle just pulled my wrists tighter and further up behind me. My hands felt like they were expanding balloons from restricted blood flow. My shoulders started cramping.
That's when I realized I was in trouble. The theory had been that I would arch my back, move my ankles closer to the headboard, thus relieving some pressure and allowing me to work loose the cinch loop around my wrists to get free.
What I didn't realize was that with the rope as short as it was my muscles were pulled, my back arched, my legs and back were cramping, as well as my shoulders and arms. Pushing even further to gain some slack wasn't possible.
It was maybe 7 PM, and my parents weren't going to be home for another 4 hours. But I really didn't want to explain myself to them anyway. They'd put me in a loony bin.
I struggled, strained, rolled to the side, moved the angle of my body, tried all sorts of stuff. The more I wriggled and strained, the worse it hurt. I had stuck myself. There was no way I was getting loose.
The longer I stayed in that position the more it hurt my body. The muscles rebelled and weakened. My legs were weak and couldn't work with me. My back wouldn't arch any more. My arms refused to move up.
I started to cry, I think around 7:30 or 8:00. I gave up and just tried to endure. The longer I endured the more it hurt.
My body had been forced back into the reverse arch position for more than two hours and it no longer mattered what position I was in, it hurt. Muscle groups protested when I curled forward and I screamed. Moving my arms in front of my body made me scream again. As blood flowed back into my purple hands, I cried.
Finally I got enough mobility in my fingers I was able to untie my legs, and screamed again when I tried to stretch them out.
When I finally got somewhat back to normal, I masturbated. I used the dildo, rubbed my clit, and came. It was one of the best orgasms I'd had as a teen, and I masturbated again. I thought about the sensations of being tied and truly helpless and came like a freight train.
That is quite a memory from my teen years.
That memory has returned clearly because Jason has started playing with predicament and stress bondage recently. He isn't sophisticated at it yet, and I am not looking forward to his getting better at it. It can be diabolical. Predicament bondage is very similar to stress bondage, in that it can cause stress on my body; the predicament is that there are choices as to which stress, or what kind of stress, or where to focus the stress.
He tends to tie me in these various positions in the garage. For some reason this makes the situation more difficult for me. Perhaps the garage is a more sterile, unfriendly environment. It has a concrete floor, the temperature is not regulated and without clothes, tends to be more uncomfortable. It also feels more exposed; it is just a garage door away from being exposed to the public, as opposed to the safety of my bedroom or the living room. All this is psychological of course, but so much of bondage and slavery is just that.
One of the most nasty stress positions he's put me in is really simple (as many nasty bondage techniques are).
First, he instructed me to remove all my clothes, so I was completely naked. He then led me to the garage, which was somewhat cold. The concrete felt cold to my feet and my nipples were hard. He then tied my left wrist and inserted the rope through a ring above my head and pulled it tight so I was standing pretty much on my tip toes. This was uncomfortable, and would eventually become very uncomfortable over time, as my body tired.
He then placed bondage cuffs on my right wrist and left ankle. Lifting my left foot up behind me, he brought it over to my right wrist and attached it with a heavy clip.
Thus, I was hanging from my left wrist, standing on tip toes of my right foot. My right wrist was connected to my left ankle behind me. And there I hung.
Let me tell you, this position is a classic but not recommended. I was sobbing in pain and begging to be released in five minutes. I think every muscle in both arms and legs were stretched and cramping. There was little room to adjust or shift weight, but I tried, believe me I tried. Up high on my toes to release pressure on my arm; back down when my calf and foot muscles gave out, increasing the pull on my arm and shoulder.
The other two limbs behind me were twisted and pulling and my back felt like it would break. I think my entire back was cramping, my shoulders, my thighs... That was a severe position. Muscles were cramping and strained in both thighs, my back, upper and lower, my shoulders (which were twisted sideways due to the unevenness of the rope tie), my legs, especially the leg where I was attempting to stand tiptoe.
Jason later shared with me that he had never seen me break into tears as quickly as when he had pulled me up into that position. He was kind and let me down after about ten minutes. I understand my role is to suffer for him, but I really appreciate it when he doesn't make me suffer too much and has a bit of mercy.
It's basically a hogtie, except the ankles are tied together and then to a rope around my neck. The rope between my ankles and my neck is then cinched tight. This pulls my ankles and legs up behind me, and my neck and shoulders are lifted up and back toward my ankles. This is a naturally very uncomfortable position that causes cramps pretty quickly, and naturally, I struggle.
The more I struggle, the more the rope pulls on the neck and chokes me. It doesn't take long before my head is pounding with pressure, I am seeing spots, and I really need to breathe. For this, I have to just force myself to stop wiggling and bring my legs back, arching my back as far as it will go. Things loosen up and I can breathe.
Thing is, I can't hold this for long. Not long at all. My legs and back cramp quickly, I have to relax and my legs try to straighten out and pull on the choke rope and I choke. I make interesting sounds when I choke, apparently. A kind of gurgling gasp.
Jason won't let me suck his dick when I am in the choking hogtie, because I wriggle and gasp so much he is afraid I will bite him. I wouldn't on purpose, of course, but when I am struggling to just breathe I would worry about my control, and I am glad I don't have his cock in my mouth.
Jason likes this one, because my struggles and pain are obvious, and he gets off on it. He's masturbated and cum on my face both times I've been in this tie. But it is dangerous so I am happy he's only done it a couple of times.
If I relax completely in this position, I choke, and the ass hook digs into my ass nice and deep. Like I say, there isn't as much movement possible with this tie, and so it is much more just endurance.
How long does he keep me in these ties? Until I can't stand it any more, and beg to be released, and then a little bit more. He likes to hear me beg. I know he will push me to my limit, and then a little further.
I really wish Jason had been around when I was a teenager and trying to do this to myself.
Since I began to write this entry, which was a couple of weeks ago, Jason has put me into one additional form of hogtie stress bondage that has greatly increased discomfort and ... yes, pain.
Yes, the stress bondage Jason puts me in hurts. It just plain old hurts. The pain is mostly cramps, joint strain, and the like. Sometimes a specific area stretches badly, and the muscles begin to burn. Blood flow is restricted to my extremities, and that can also slowly but surely create pain.
In some positions it is hard to breathe, and the blood pressure changes can cause some nasty headaches.
Yes, it hurts, sometimes badly enough I will cry. By cry, I mean not just a few tears, but sobbing.
So, anyway, recently, Jason has added a lift to the hog tie. By this I mean he will tie a rope somewhere to the ropes that hold me in bondage, and then run that rope to a pulley above me. After I am secured and unable to move, he lifts.
If the pull rope is secured in the center of gravity, which it usually is, it has a tendency to pull my neck, shoulders and legs back up. My back arches in a reverse arch.
In this position it doesn't take long before the cramps set in. If he is having mercy on me, he doesn't lift me too high, and my weight can be somewhat supported. This might not seem too bad, but it's the length of time he leaves me there that hurts.
This may seem cruel to you, but you have to realize I have been tying myself up like this for years, and wanting to be bounded helpless like this, at someone else's whim, exposed and in pain for someone else's pleasure. I don't know why, but I seek this and nothing makes me more satisfied that to be slowly cramping, struggling, suffering for Jason as he watches. I like to know he is watching the muscles in my body shift and strain, moving slightly to try and cope.
I like to think that my body in pain, in bondage, is sexy and attractive to him.
So far he has simply used this technique to pull my legs and head together, to increase the strain and angle of reverse arch. He hasn't lifted me off the ground. I am afraid that sometime, soon, he will. I can't imagine how quickly that will become unbearable.
He accomplished this with my head in a harness, a new panel gag harness he's purchased. With this he can tie my head to my feet or ankles, cinch it back tightly until I can't stand it any more and then leave me there. The rope extends from the top of my head and pulls on the harness that goes over my eyes, secures the gag in my mouth, and lifts the chin strap.
I know I look sexy in this position, because my head is bent backward, exposing my neck, chest and breasts. My hips are also lifted sufficiently that my pussy is easily seen. It is somewhat natural during this pulling for my legs to separate; I can't keep them together, which means my pussy is clearly visible. I know this because he touches me while I am bent back like this, and massages my clit.
Jason reached between my legs and massaged me. I couldn't move, of course, I just hung there and took it. Slowly, my cunt warmed up, and in spite of the pain I became very aroused. When I shuddered with a climax, Jason bent down and kissed my panel gag, and said "good girl."
It felt good to know I was pleasing him with my suffering.
I think I was in that position for a half hour or so before he let me down. It took a day for my body to recover from that session. I still feel the soreness and think I have a slight muscle pull in my left shoulder.