Outdoor Self Bondage Experiment

(I'm going to admit up front that I did some dumb things here. I prepared and had backup plans, but ultimately I wouldn't recommend anyone doing what I did. In fact, I wouldn't recommend that I do it.)

Since the divorce things have changed quite a bit. I'm no longer in a 24/7 s/m relationship. At first I missed that. It was actually very difficult when he removed my slave collar. I'd worn that thing for several years and felt completely naked with it off; it was emotionally devastating.

When I first established life on my own it was difficult finding reliable bondage partners. I don't trust strangers from fetlife or some other forum, so I was restricted to people I knew or were referred to me. The problem was that several of my regular play partners hesitated to get involved with me in my new situation.

Yeah, I was sort of abandoned. I guess that happens with a breakup. People choose sides, or maybe they simply don't want to get involved, risk the perception that they've taken sides. I used to be his slave; a lot of people didn't want to step in and take his place. I not only lost friends from the divorce, I lost masters.

But I did rediscover the joys of self bondage. I quickly (like within a few days) had begun relearning and exercising my self bondage skills that had been dormant for a number of years. In fact, I began to remember just how awesome self bondage is. I do prefer the complete loss of control at another person's hand, with no escape until another decides it. But self bondage has an element of planning, excitement, creativity, and pleasure that is unique.

Since that time I've re-established myself both with Jason (my ex) and a couple of other partners that are truly first class at what they do, and also expanded into experimentation with a woman I have a relationship with now. But I have decided I want to continue self bondage from time to time to keep my hand in and to provide the variety and fun that comes with it.

Part of the fun of self bondage is planning and creating new scenarios. This can involve coming up with new positions, but also with methods of stimulating the body while tied up. Stimulation can be either pleasurable sexual stimulation, pain, or both.

I love rope bondage the most, it's always been my first love. But it is also true that rope bondage does not lend itself to self bondage. It's possible, and I do it, but it is a lot easier to release yourself using a key that a knife or shears.

It's also a lot faster to restrain yourself using shackles or cuffs or locks than with ropes that require cinch ties and are prone to failure (too loose/too tight).

A little while back I found myself wanting to expand my self bondage and try something very different and new. I thought and dreamed about options for a while, and came up with a scenario that I eventually implemented.

Bondage materials:

• Head harness with ball gag, collar with D rings and a descending strap in the back.
• Manacles for wrists attached to descending strap in back.
• Waist and crotch harness, locking.
• Transport style ankle manacles with a chain about two feet long between the ankles.

Release mechanism: travel to a previously cached key some distance away.

Stimulation: Four lead programmable TENS unit.

Location: A trail and meadow not too far from Palomar Mountain.

Yeah, there were a couple of weird things I did with this one, and one was that I wanted an outdoor self bondage experience. Outdoor bondage provides an added sense of vulnerability and helplessness. It also adds a certain nervous thrill over the possibility of being seen or discovered. I'm not an exhibitionist, but I have found that doing things that are risky can provide an extra thrill that drives my adrenaline and gets my heart pumping.

The second weird aspect of this scenario involved a thing I had never done before. I toyed with the idea of using a full hood on myself, cutting out vision and limiting hearing. Hoods tend to increase the feeling of helplessness, and I love/hate them. I actually had that bit planned when a different idea came to me.

Blackout, opaque contact lenses. The idea of temporarily blinding myself was thrilling. I wear contacts almost all the time, so wearing contacts wouldn't be an issue for me. Yes, a hood would accomplish the same thing, but for some reason the blackout lenses excited me, as if I would be truly blinded and helpless. It's sort of like being bagged-- you can see everything around you, you can breath air in and out, but you are slowly asphyxiating with a rising tide of panic. The idea of being blinded without anything covering my face or eyes made me wet just thinking about it.

It's also true that wearing a full hood out in the wilderness someplace has certain risks and I liked the idea of simply being unable to see without any external appliances.

There's a couple of companies online that sell sclera special effects contact lenses,  and also have completely opaque blackout lenses. I bought several sets, just so I could get used to them.

When they arrived I tried a set on and actually left them on for a while and yep, they blinded me. The experience was eerie, because I couldn't see a thing even though my eyes were open and had no blindfold or anything else on. Exactly what I wanted.

I wore them around my girlfriend a bit just to get used to them. She said they made me look eerie (which was kind of cool) and took pics of my eyes. My eyes are dark brown anyway and the blackout contacts didn't change there look drastically, but the solid opaqueness across the iris and the pupil could be seen and was indeed eerie. I think it was eerie because it looks like the pupil has expanded all the way until there is no iris left.

I then started looking for an outdoor area for the self bondage experience. I visited several areas, searching for one that was remote enough I could get myself restrained, travel some distance and let myself free, with minimal risk of running into anyone (no major hiking trails). It also had to be accessible, and not overly rugged. I wanted to hike and have to expend some effort, but didn't want to destroy my feet, fall, and break my bones in the process.

(In spite of what some people have claimed, I am not insane).

After finding the location, I parked and went back and forth, identifying where I would do this adventure. I memorized the ups and downs, where the trail went, the curves, bushes and trees along the way (some parts were exposed in a type of flat meadow area, others were in trees).

I practiced with the blind lenses again, making sure I could wear them without a problem (for the self bondage, once they went in I wouldn't be able to take them out again). They did let a little light through, but I couldn't see anything useful at all. They were not the highest quality comfortable lenses, but I could do it.

Looking forward to a planned self bondage session is half the pleasure, sort of like looking forward to your next vacation. I masturbated a number of times thinking about the plans, the details, the helplessness I would experience, the risk I would be taking.

The day of the event was selected and I was ready. The items I needed were simple. This wasn't a complex bondage routine. The entire week leading up to that day I abstained from sex. I didn't masturbate. I was completely celibate. (My girlfriend protested a bit, but we found other nice things to do, and snuggling was OK).

The day of I left an envelope of details as to where I would be with my girlfriend, who had instructions to open it at 5:00pm if I didn't show up.

I then gave myself an enema. This might sound strange but really it isn't; in fact it is common to give myself an enema often before any kind of intense scene or self bondage. Some scenes can get intense enough there can be loss of bowel control (usually minor but, hey... even a little is too much). It can also increase discomfort if I am tied up, restrained and find the urge to go.

Lastly, in some scenes (such as this self bondage I was about to engage in) things go up my ass and it's just nicer if it is clean.

After that bit of prep, I drove out to the trail head access and parked. As usual, I was the only person there.

I was excited. Nervous. I wanted to masturbate in my car before I began but refused to let myself. This is rather common for me before a scene, either self bondage or submitting to another, I tend to get excited in anticipation, my heart rate goes up and I get wet.

Yes, I was wet. I climbed out of my car along with the backpack of supplies and reached down and inside my shorts, touching myself. I was wet.

I set off hiking along a the trail. It actually wasn't much of a trail, this wasn't a place people commonly hiked (this was on purpose, of course). It was a beautiful day, sunny with a light breeze and blue sky; puffy white clouds floated by. I felt alive, and sexy, and aroused, and excited.

It took almost half an hour to get to the first location. A stump in a relatively clear area. My padlocks (there were two) both opened with the same key, and I had two of these keys. One of these keys I placed in a small crack on the top of the stump, sticking up where it could easily be felt. There was another key for the ankle shackles, which also went on the stump.

That was all for that location. Just the keys.

I continued hiking toward the meadow. This stretch was on a rather primitive trail, perhaps even a deer or animal trail, through some trees. There was a small creek I passed; it had a bit of water in it, though not much. Then the meadow. The large, open space with hills in the distance, trees scattered around. I marched to the oak tree in the middle.

I drank water, lots of it. If something happened, I wouldn't be able to drink and needed to be hydrated. I had already eaten a light breakfast.

Breathing in the clear air of the countryside (then sneezing because of my allergies), I enjoyed the peace and silence for a moment, then began the process.

First, I removed my top, a simple T-shirt made of light material. Tight enough to show my shape; I enjoy being attractive, sexy, and even a little slutty when heading to a scene. It puts me in the right mood.

Then my bra. I was topless in the open. It felt exhilarating.

I removed my boots (I had light hiking boots), then slipped off my shorts. I folded everything in a small pile at the base of the tree.

Last my panties, and I was naked. I wore no jewelry (I never do during a scene).

It was a combination of scary, exciting, arousing and cold standing in the field, naked.

I put the boots back on. I was going to be walking across some rugged terrain, and am not completely insane. I would easily tear my feet to shreds without the boots. It felt especially weird being naked, completely, except for boots. Huh.

The equipment for the self bondage was removed from the backpack, and the clothes replaced them inside.

First, the TENS unit and crotch strap. The TENS unit had to go on first.

I would have loved to have done something to stimulate my clit, give me pleasure and maybe force an orgasm or two while I was trying to get out of this whole predicament, but to tell you the truth automated, hands free clit vibrators just don't work well. They slip, they don't stimulate enough, they fall off, they are just in general unpredictable and disappointing. Pain, on the other hand, is something I can generate and make pretty reliable.

The TENS unit has four leads-- one set of positive and negative electrodes each. The two sets can be programmed separately. Normally the electrodes would need to be attached to either some sort of conductive sticky patch, or to a clamp or clip (which doesn't work as well).  I would do neither in this case.

The wired ends of the electrodes don't usually have any effect directly on flesh-- the contact isn't good enough. But... not all flesh is created equal. Insert those wired electrodes inside your body and they get very good contact. Better than with electrode patches on the flesh, I've found.

That's what I did. Each set of electrodes had been prepped, wrapped together using tape, back to back. There in the field I bent over, spread my legs a bit, and pushed one set of electrodes slowly into my anus. Once past the sphincter I kept pushing so they got a couple of inches up into my rectum.

OK... second set went up my cunt. Easier to do, I just slid the taped-together wires up my vagina two or three inches. Far enough they were well seated in there and wouldn't get pulled out easily. The tape on my thigh and hip and the strap would keep it in as well.

I knew from experience that the inside of both orifices would be quite sensitive to electrical stimulation-- and pain. The sensations from inside my rectum and deep inside my vagina are quite close and the pain seems to move from one place to another, as if there was a drill running through the thin wall between the two passages.

Part of self bondage is preparing yourself for the fact you might not like what you are creating once you are in the bondage, but making sure you can't get out of it. That's part of the thrill. Creating something you have no choice but to endure.

In this case I had to make sure I didn't later decide that I didn't like the electrical shocks I had set up for myself and manage to dislodge or pull out the wires. They had to stay in until I got the key, unlocked my bondage, and the scene was over.

The first step in this was to tape the wires to my thigh and crotch. I folded the extra length of wire leads into a tight bundle and pressed them against my left inner thigh. I then took some duct tape and wrapped it around my thigh and the wire leads, wrapping the tape around my upper leg about ten times. The wire was pretty secure, but I added a couple of more loops higher up my crotch quite close to my cunt, just to make sure.

Even that wasn't enough. That's were the waist and crotch strap came in. It's a relatively simple strap, not like the complicated ones that go all over your body. No, this just encircles the waist and can be tightened above the hips to prevent it from being slid off.

Another attached strap goes down between the legs and up the back side, covering the ass crack (or squeezing inside and spreading the crack, depending on how tight you make it.

Both stretches of strap can be locked in place.

The crotch strap/waist harness is also a good spot to anchor the TENS unit. I slipped the smallish box into the back of the waist strap using a small case that came with the unit. It was secure there, the belt part looped through the case and I had duct-taped the place where the wire leads plugged into the unit to prevent it from coming loose "inadvertently".

With the strap on and wires either tucked away or taped securely in place, I put the lock on the strap and clicked it shut. I now had a pre-programmed torture device attached to me. I turned it on.

Next came the ankle shackles. Very easy items. I sat down at the base of the tree and said OWWW and got up again. My bare ass on some rocks and tree roots. I chose a place more carefully and sat, leaned down and clicked the ankle shackles in place.

There was only one key for those, and it was back at the stump, but the ankle shackles were not as big of a deal-- the chain between them was about two feet long, which meant you could walk, you just couldn't take big steps or run.

I smiled and relaxed a moment when the shackles when on my legs, feeling the sensation of being bound, however loosely. The only way to get those off was to walk twenty minutes to the stump.

OK, so waist, cunt, ass, and ankles all set, time for the neck. I had a leather collar that included an attached strip descending the back. Dangling from that leather strip in the back were the handcuffs, all ready to go.

The collar went around my neck and I cinched it tight (not too tight but tight enough I could feel it). It felt good. I like being collared. The strap with the cuffs dangled down my back behind.

Right about then the TENS unit went through its first cycle. I felt a vibrating tingle, not painful but it had the odd feeling of making my ass feel as if it had something inside it. This went on for ten seconds then stopped. It was immediately followed by the same tingling vibration, almost a mild sting, inside my vagina. Ten seconds and it was over.

After the TENS unit finished its play between my legs, I went on to another thing I added at the last moment. Nipple clamps. I hadn't intended to use them because frankly... I've had my nipples clamped more times than I could possibly count, and the pain from the TENS unit was probably going to be plenty. But at the last moment I decided why not?

Many nipple clamps come on chains that connect them together, which looks nice and you can hang weights on them. I didn't use those for two reasons. First, I figured the chain would make it fairly easy to pull them off once I was bound and suffering, and I didn't want that. Second, I put bells on each one as a form of self humiliation. I thought about myself, naked, blind and in pain, staggering through the countryside, trying to find my key... all the while making little tinkling noises like a human wind chime.

I got them out and applied them to my nipples. They hurt, the first pain of the day. Most nipple clamps hurt, though there is a tremendous range of discomfort based on what kind of clamp they are, how tight they are, and where they are applied. These hurt enough to be distracting, and I knew they might actually be enough to distract from the pain that would be occurring in my cunt as ass pretty soon.

OK, so waist, cunt, ass, ankles, neck and tits all done. Next, the weirdest part. My eyes.

I picked up the contact container (the dangling bells making a small tinkling noise as I did) and popped open one of the two reservoirs that contained some saline and the contact. It stared at me, a solid black circle, daring me to put it on. I slid it out of the saline onto my finger, tilted my head back slightly and popped it in.

I went blind in one eye.

Popping open the second reservoir, I got the second contacted on my finger and popped it in.

And I was blind.

There actually was a tiny bit of light that filtered through the dark lenses, just enough I could tell it was sunny out. But I could see nothing. I was blind.

My heart was beating so fast at that moment and I could feel my cunt getting so wet. I wanted to masturbate in that field, under that tree, right then. But I held firm and refused.

I put the contact container down. I was almost done, but not quite. I noticed I had whimpered a little at the pain in my nipples. Nipple pain is actually so common for me I become aroused automatically whenever nipple clamps are applied. It still hurt.

So.... I bent down and felt around until I found...

The last item before actually locking my hands in the cuffs-- the head harness. A simple three point face harness with built in ball gag. I'd used it many times. It was comfortable, except wearing the ball gag tightly for long periods pulled on the corners of my mouth and could get painful, but then, that actually is what tight bondage is about. Discomfort and endurance.

The head harness was done late in the process, primarily because of the blackout contacts. The contacts actually do blind me-- and I wanted to get as much done as I could before I lost my sight. But because the head harness face straps go on either side of my nose and block easy access to my eyes, I had to wait until they were in before I did the head harness.

I buckled the head harness on tightly, cinching the straps. The one that held the ball gag in place I made sure was cinched extra tight so I couldn't expel the gag. Ball gags are actually easy to push out if you don't cinch them quite tight.

The TENS unit kicked in again. Oh god, it was annoying. It vibrated and stung just a little. Ten seconds in my ass followed by ten seconds in my vagina. I'd started the program on the lowest setting. If this had been on my skin, even with good contact pads, I wouldn't have felt it. But inside? Yeah. I felt it.

The head harness has one strap that goes straight up over my forehead and cross the top of my head, right where I part my hair. I had previously placed the second key to my locks on the inside of that strap, secured in place by several strips of tape. I would not be able to get to it, but if for any reason I ran across someone or someone rescued me, they could access it and free me.

Effectively blinded and gagged, I was ready for the last part. Locking my wrists in place. This is that special act that creates so much adrenaline it is almost the climax, the ultimate part of the whole self-bondage experience. That one moment where you step from freedom to irreversible restraint.

I put my left hand behind my back. The strap in the back was located only a foot below my neck, forcing me to bring my wrist up high. My wrists were not going to be in a reverse prayer, but they'd be high enough for it.  It was a strained.

The left cuff clicked into place. My right arm was still free-- it was still possible to bail, and get out of this. I waited for a moment, naked, blind, gagged, in pain... and closed the cuff around my right wrist.

I swear I almost had an orgasm right then. That moment when I clicked the cuff closed on my right wrist and I was committed.

My breathing was heavy, so much so my breasts were wobbling a tiny bit and my bells rang. I felt myself flush a little with embarrassment. The nipple clamps were still hurting like hell, though the pain would subside a bit in a few minutes, I knew. They were one thing I could remove if I really had to-- sit down and bend over and use my feet to grab the bells and pull them off. Which would also hurt like hell and I hoped I wouldn't have to do that.

So, time to try to find my key while blind. I had gone over the path several times, listened to audible landmarks, felt the path and noticed the obstacles, figured out landmarks I could locate as I walked. It would be a challenge, but I was confident. Not as confident as when I could see, though, and I began to wish I had taken a dry run while unrestrained but blind.

I started by finding a knot in the tree I knew pointed the right way, and followed some tree roots a few feet out to get started in the right direction. My clothes remained behind in the backpack.

The whole thing started off well, though I noticed immediately that while the sun was warm, the breeze was cool. It hadn't been a problem when I was dressed, but I was stark naked now and I imagined I had goose bumps, and my nipples would have been standing out of they hadn't been squished out.

The TENS unit was programmed to hit me with a cycle of ten seconds each, ass then cunt, every two minutes. It was also designed to bump the intensity by two each time it went through a cycle. This TENS unit had levels from one to 50. That means that 20 minutes later, when I would presumably get close to the key, I'd be at level 20.  Level 20 is enough to feel somewhat painful on my skin; nipples, cunt, legs, whatever-- it would hurt.

Inside? Inside my ass? Inside my (now very wet) vagina? 20 would would be agony. This was a motivator. Get the key now because if you don't you are going to be in a world of hurt. Literally.

I began to move quickly across the meadow, shivering in the cool breeze. This was in Autumn, but you have to realize that Autumn in southern California is actually rather warm. It can be downright hot. But for some reason, the breeze was cool that day. Just my luck.

I tried to move faster,  but there was an effective limit on how fast I could go, imposed by the leg shackles. I learned this the hard way-- I tried to go too fast, took too long a stride and hit the limits of the shackle chain. It jerked my leg and I fell. *Whump*. Damn.

Getting up was a bit of a struggle because I couldn't use my arms and my feet were limited to being two feet from each other. But I managed and continued on my way.

Of course I quickly realized I had been knocked off course when I fell.

Wham, the TENS unit hit me again. I think I was up to a 6 and it was no longer a little vibrate, it was painful. I didn't stop moving though, I just took the pain and kept walking.

And ran into a tree.

Fuck.

I stopped and listened, and determined I was probably close to the right spot and I just needed to head left a little.

Not being able to see was such an incredible psych trip. I wasn't blindfolded, no hood, I just couldn't see. One of my senses was just gone.

Wow, I felt helpless. That helpless feeling is exactly what I want and need from self (or any) bondage but this was crazy.

I was blind, bound, able to only walk slowly, and *whammo* the TENS unit hit me again and I bent over in surprise. It hadn't been two minutes, had it? My ass burned for ten seconds, then my vagina burned and buzzed for ten seconds, then I resumed walking.

I had to admit I had no idea if I was on the right track until I hit the stream. There was the little stream halfway to the key. I splashed across it then felt for the path. It was here somewhere.

Just then I heard a noise. Just after hearing the noise the TENS unit fired off, this time at maybe... a 10? And I just fell to the ground in a fetal position, letting the pain sweep through my groin, traveling from my ass to my vagina as if it were moving through the flesh... then it stopped and I continued laying on the dirt, listening.

I really did not want to be discovered. I had heard something moving in the bracken nearby, so I lay still, naked and restrained and with my little tit bells silent.

There was no other sound so I figured it wasn't a human. Not necessarily a good thing, because it could have been a bird, or a dog, or a coyote, or a mountain lion........ or a squirrel.

My tits were hurting and the TENS unit hit me again and I groaned and curled up on the ground for 20 seconds until it passed. Fortunately, my falling to the ground had confirmed I was on the path I wanted to follow. I recognized the hard pack dirt and bushes to the side that I seriously hoped were not poison ivy.

I decided my nipples had experienced enough pain for the day and sat on my ass, leaned over as far as I could until my tit bells scraped the ground (god those things were humiliating, whatever made me think they were a good idea?) and tried to move my feet close enough to where I could get to the dangling things.

It wasn't too hard, actually, the bells dangled down far enough I got the left one between my boots, squeezed on it and then moved my chest up. The clamp hung on to my poor stretched nipple, hurting like hell, until it finally shot off and I literally screamed into my ball gag. If a person was around, they knew I was there.

Damn I wished I could reach my poor left nipple and massage it-- that helps. But I couldn't and simply leaned over to pull off my right nipple clamp. Again, not hard, just fucking painful. I screamed into the gag mostly because it made me feel better and just as I was finishing up the scream the fucking TENS unit hit me again and my ass lit up like it was being pierced by a hot poker.

The scream went on and I fell over onto my side and waited for the pain to migrate through the interior walls of flesh from my rectum to my vagina, and then fade away suddenly.

I really needed to get going. I was on the right path but was only halfway and I swear, that TENS had reached level 20 already and if it went to 40 I was going to literally be in fucking agony. I didn't want that to happen.

I struggled to my feet and stumbled ahead.

I was in the forested area now, away from the meadow, and it had gotten colder without direct sun. I stumbled on a few more feet, stopped and listened for my audio landmarks, then stumbled forward a few more feet, grateful my tits were not swinging those damn bells any more and *wham* I doubled over as my ass and vagina had hot pokers stuck up inside them.

Later when I got back to the car, eventually, I saw I had tears streaking my face and I think that was the moment when they arrived. I didn't know I was crying, but I had started right about then. I noticed I was beginning to walk with my legs spread further apart, perhaps in a useless attempt to keep the shocks from hurting as much.

I was struggling against my restraints, too, a sign I was beginning to panic. The restraints weren't going to come apart, that was certain. The shackles were steel, the collar and strap behind were thick leather.

I kept going, hoping I was on the right trail, occasionally finding something that told me I was. A low hanging tree branch, a set of roots on the path, or whatever.

The TENS shocks continued to come every two minutes, bringing me to my knees each time. I rolled on the ground, seeing if I could remove the wires, dislodge them, but no. It would be better to simply reach the key than waste the time trying to detach or remove the TENS.

And of course I was drooling profusely. I was wearing a ball gag. That's part of the point of a ball gag, they make you drool; they take away just another bit of self control you have over your body and force it so your fluid drains out of your mouth. You are sliming yourself, saliva dripping over your chin and breasts and there's nothing you can do about it. It's humiliating and an annoyance like that loomed large in my mind as I plodded along, looking around, seeing nothing but black.

It seemed like several hours later that I reached the small copse of trees the surrounded the stump. I bumped into one of them, realized what they were and moved forward. Unfortunately, the stump had moved, or at least it seemed like it to me.

The TENS hit me and I collapsed on the ground and writhed for a bit, panting. When it finished with me I moved forward and around on my knees and finally found the stump. Turning around I lay myself backward on the stump so my hands could get close to where the key was... and I found it.

My heart was racing, my legs spread wide with fear of the coming shock. The key was in my right hand, I moved over and found the hole in the cuffs of the left, inserted, turned, and click my left hand was free.

Relief flooded over me. I had made it. I was going to be all right. I was-- *WHAM* I doubled over and groaned loudly as the shock hit me deep inside, then moved seamlessly across the thin wall between my rectum and vagina.

When it was over I managed to get my right wrist free with the key, and the first thing I did was rip the tape off the TENS unit and pull the wires out. I sank down, still blind and with wrist shackles, but relieved.

Next I reached up and removed a blackout lens. My fingers were filthy and I would probably scratch my eyeball, but I didn't care. I got both of them out and looked around. The world was unusually bright, and while I recognized it, having been blind for the last hour it looked different. I flicked the used contacts into the woods, never to be used again.

I slowly pulled the wires out of my cunt, then my ass, and then unlocked the belt and dropped it on the ground. I never wanted to see it again. The leg chains came off and finally I removed the head harness and ball gag. The collar also got removed.

Sitting with my back against a tree I reached down and felt my pussy. It was soaking wet. I laughed, giggled, and said out loud to myself, "You are such a fucking pain slut..."

And I allowed myself to masturbate. Nude, there in the trees, I spread my legs wide and fingered myself to an orgasm for the first time in a week. It was fucking glorious, I came like a freight train, my whole body tensed and shaking.

My clothes were back at the tree in the backpack. I went back nude in the forest but enjoying it quite a bit this time. I almost wished I could meet some hikers, just to give them a little shock, maybe a little fun. At the tree I got dressed and then checked my watch.

I had, in fact, taken a lot longer to get back to the stump. Not 20 minutes, I estimated it had been closer to 40. So yep, I had taken TENS levels up to around 40, though I never did know exactly how high it went. Trust me, I thought someone was fucking searing my insides. And yet, through it all, my cunt had stayed wet and aroused.

It took another 30 minutes to walk back to the car. I got in and masturbated again, this time with my left hand under my shorts, legs spread wide as they would go.

I drove home. I left the nipple clamps somewhere on the trail, I never went looking for them. I have a dozen pairs and frankly anyone I play with always seems to have something to smash my poor nipples and make me cry for mercy.

My girlfriend greeted me, glad I was OK; in reality she was glad she didn't have to go hunting for me. I took her to the bedroom and we got naked together and the two of us fucked for an hour, pleasuring each other intensely. She's good at what she does and I've never been bored making love to her.

I had two more orgasms then, and I masturbated one more time before going to sleep. I went over every bit of the experience in my mind, every bit of pain, frustration, helplessness, vulnerability, despair... and I knew I would masturbate to the memories many times in the future.

Pain and Suffering

Well, that sucked.

I've been ill. Sick. Influenza. (Over the holidays).

I won't tell you everything that happened to me (even though it might actually turn some of you on), but I thought I was going to die for a while.

Nausea. Cramps. Losing control of body fluids.

It got me thinking. There have been times when I have experienced much the same sensations while in the middle of a bondage scene. Did I enjoy it? Well...kind of. I am not a pain slut, but accept extreme physical sensations as part of the bdsm submissive experience. In fact, there are types of pain that I accept and even "enjoy".

Tie me down to a table or wooden frame, force my legs apart, whip my pussy lips then push an unlubed speculum inside my pussy, spread my lips wide wide enough it hurts and then put nasty things inside me that poke and scrape, and I accept it. It brings sexual satisfaction. I am excited by it. Shock me with a parrilla and I am in heaven. (I know, I am a sick puppy).

Take me into a obgyn office, put me in stirrups and have him gently spread me open and do a careful inspection and I am unhappy, uncomfortable and want to get the hell out of there.

Pain/discomfort is incredibly situational. I know two girls that are complete masochists when it comes to bondage and sex play, so much so they come out of sessions bleeding, scarred, heavily bruised and with new and interesting holes in their body. The more the better. But that's the only situation in which they will tolerate that. Outside of that situation, they react to pain in the way most people would-- they totally avoid it.

So there I was, dealing with involuntary body fluid loss, and after it was mostly over I thought about the fact I had experienced very similar sensations and considered it exciting and enjoyable, whereas I would have done almost anything to avoid the sickness I just went through.

There's a number of things that can give one cramps during a bdsm scene. Muscle cramps, of course, can occur in almost any bondage position and can be very painful. That's part of the excitement of being tied up-- it's uncomfortable to the point of painful and once there, you just endure. There's no guarantee you are going to get your leg untied to relieve that charlie-horse.

Stomach cramps, though-- well, the most obvious way is by receiving an enema.

Enemas are weird-- they aren't actually a bondage kink, but are often practiced in conjunction with bondage. Enemas are not a big kink of mine, but they are interesting to use in combination with bondage.

I've been given enemas a number of times in my life. My first enema was one I gave myself when I was 16 using an enema bag I found in my mom's bathroom cupboard.

Yes, that is weird too-- the whole idea of my mom (or father) getting an enema. To this day I am not 100% sure it was there for medical reasons-- they might have had a bit of kink in their lives. But the idea of my mom giving herself an enema sort of made me sick (just like the idea of my dad humping my mom with her legs up high around him, fingers raking his back as he grunted away... ok I am getting weird with that image even now).

Come to think of it, my parents also had a vibrator that might have had multiple uses.

When I found this enema kit, the parents weren't supposed to be home for several hours and I was curious (some might consider me far too curious for a 16 year old girl). So I stripped naked, went to my own bathroom and filled the bag with water.

I remember clearly how aroused I was before I left the bathroom. The image of myself in the mirror, naked, with that enema bag filled up and waiting is clear in my mind even now. As a teen I had acquired a desire to try weird things, to do anything that would bring new body sensations and I had sort of fallen in love with the sexiness of my own body.

Once the bag was full I grabbed a towel and headed for my room and my bed. That was a bit dumb, I didn't think that enemas could get messy. At least I did put the towel down on my bed just in case, then lay on top of it.

The simple act of trying to insert the nozzle into my anus was a bit frustrating-- I had to reach around and push and shove, and the angle was awkward and I had to go at it from another angle and lift legs out of the way.  The nozzle was slightly larger at the end so it went in with a push and then slid another inch or so inside easily.

Once the nozzle went in, it started feeling interesting in ways I had been looking for. That was the first time I had ever inserted anything into my ass, and the sensation was novel and kind of fun. It felt just a little like going to the bathroom, but then, not really. Moving the longer nozzle around a bit produced sensations that immediately brought my other hand to my clit.

My mom's enema kit had three nozzles and I of course chose the largest and longest one (which was tiny compared to what's been in my ass in the years since). I got it all the way in, held the bag up in my left hand, and released the clip.

The water flowed in and was like, whoooooops that's a new sensation! Being a teenager used to flinging herself headlong into any new experience, I had filled the bag completely. I had no idea what a good amount would be so I just filled it all the way and let it flow in. I had to hold the bag up with one hand, but along with experiencing the sensation of water filling my bowels, my other hand was between my legs and rubbing my clit.

The combination of the two sensations was actually pretty good. Something pushed up inside my ass, water flooding my lower intestine, and my clit getting rubbed. I had an orgasm quickly, before the entire bag had emptied into my bowels.

Immediately after the orgasm there was some mild cramping. Pain. Not something I was new to (I had experienced some levels of discomfort in my self bondage), but still a unique experience. Not knowing what was normal or not with an enema and having my tummy cramping up led me to clip off the tube and run to the bathroom. There I expelled the enema (which took a lot longer than I thought it would) and felt much, much better.

I later tried using enemas as part of my self bondage experience, but that's a different story.

Last week, while recovering from waves of nausea and still experiencing stomach cramps as I waited for the next round of diarrhea, I thought about another experience I had which produced similar physical sensations as my sickness but in completely different circumstances.

Jason (the ex-husband) had loaned me to another master, a mutual friend south of where we live. He had a reputation for being complex in his rigging and ruthless in his domination. He regularly dominated one of the true masochistic women I know and the stories that came out of those sessions made me shudder. His name is Dean.

Dean made me strip formally before him and display my body. He remained clothed, which always makes me feel a bit humiliated and vulnerable, when I am naked and the guy is clothed. He inspected me, placing his hands and fingers in places designed to make me feel vulnerable and obedient. One finger went into my anus and worked in and out a bit. He inserted fingers into my mouth, and had me suck on them. He used my breasts to wipe his fingers dry.

He then "warmed me up" by tying me to a St. Andrews cross and giving me a good caning. I could just feel the competence with which he tied my wrists-- the multiple strands, the tight tie, the knot. I was going nowhere, the rope was tight and effective, the kind I dream of at night when I lay alone with my hand between my legs.

He tied my ankles as well, kicking them apart and roping them to the bottom of the cross.

The flogging consisted of several strokes of a rather thin cane, followed by his cock (which was quite hard) sliding between my legs and along my pussy crack.

"I want to feel you wet," he whispered in my ear.

I was already wet, of course, I had been wet when I walked in his door. He'd rub his cock on my pussy a few times then resume the caning.

Caning fucking hurts. It's amazing what a small little rod like that can do, especially when repeated over and over on bare skin. He had me sobbing and begging in a few minutes. Of course, I also knew that's what he likes so it was easy to let it go, let the tears come and promise to do anything for him if he'd just stop.

I knew the session with Dean was going to hurt when I first contemplated it, and my heart was pounding and my cunt slippery before I undid the first button to strip for him.

Each time he'd stop the caning to slide his cock between my pussy lips I would rub him, shifting my hips back and forth, sliding my outside pussy lips on his cock. If I got him off enough maybe he'd stop caning me. And I sort of liked the feeling of his cock between my pussy lips, and its head on my clit, and overall I would rather be getting him off than feeling the kiss of the cane.

He didn't accept this, of course, and continued caning me until my entire back and buttocks were burning like fire.

In the process of doing my best to get Dean off, I had an orgasm.

I came, a shuddering sweaty orgasm, the last time he ran his cock under my pussy. I think that's what made him stop, actually. He could tell the way I clutched his cock, rubbing frantically, and then sagged down, that I had reached a climax. (Dear lord I do love an orgasm when tied and helpless).

That's when he showed some mercy and stopped caning me.

(By the way, Dean is ugly, but has a decent body and a great cock. I know this from experience, obviously. But what keeps girls like me coming back to him is his way of bringing us to the brink of our limits, and mixing that with the pleasure we crave.)

I hung by my wrists for a little while, panting and recovering. Dean was preparing something else.

We were in his playroom; it's one bedroom of a two bedroom bungalow he owns, and has been soundproofed and the windows painted shut. His neighbors are rather close to his house.

After a few minutes of rest (hanging from my wrists), he came over and unroped my wrists from the cross. My ankles were still immobile and spread, but he let my wrists free. Standing close to the cross like that it took effort to make sure I didn't topple over. It was easier with my wrists tied.

He applied a quick and efficient crotch rope. That's just a quick double loop of rope around the waist that extends between the legs. It can be quite uncomfortable, depending on its positioning and how tight it is. He put the strands on either side of my pussy lips and cinched it pretty tight. Not terrible, but just another small bit of discomfort from being tied up.

The end that came up through my ass cheeks behind me was long and he used it to bind my wrists together. It dug a bit into my ass and after securing my wrists together he pulled the rope tighter, pulling my wrists down and closer to my ass and crotch. This caused me to lean back just a bit to relieve the strain and pressure on my cunt, which made me lose my balance because my ankles were still tied to the the base of the cross.

He caught me before I went over. The guy worked with a speed and accuracy that was amazing. I had barely been untied from the cross before her had my wrists tied behind my back and secured to the crotch rope.

A bit more attention and my breasts were tied in a harness and upper arms secured to the same harness.

This was specifically why I like going to Dean-- they guy can put me out of commission, completely helpless and vulnerable with interesting rope ties and positions, so easily. Professionally. Once I commit to a session with him, I know I am in for a ride and won't have a way out of whatever it is he wants to do. Helpless.

He undid the ropes to my ankles and quickly had them attached to ankle restraints that were already suspended from the ceiling. This was the first hint I had that I was going upside down and it made my heart pound. (Inverted suspension is not common, it takes special care and equipment and someone willing to do it). I wasn't gagged and started to whine.

"Oh, god no... Dean, please don't put me upside down. Shiiiit.... oh fuck, please, I will do anything you want."

He laughed as he helped me lay down on the floor, which I couldn't do because my wrists were tied pretty tightly behind my back, not to mention my elbows.

"Dear, you will do anything I want anyway. And you will do it with your head swinging above the ground and your legs spread wide in the air."

With that he pulled and my ankles rose into the air, my legs slowly angling up higher and higher until my ass dragged against the floor a foot and then went up as well. My shoulders remained on the floor a moment. That position isn't too bad, because the head is still close to the same elevation as the heart.

But, my ankles kept going up and my shoulders left the ground and then my head. The last bit of me to touch the floor was my pony tail, which brushed briefly before leaving the concrete floor behind.

Being upside down is very disorienting, as you might imagine. Plus, the body is not made to be upside down, all my internal organs were pushing down on my diaphragm and chest, my boobs were hanging the wrong way, and the blood was pushing on my head. Breathing is a bit different but still quite possible. It isn't painful (not at first anyway) but it isn't pleasant.

And of course, my legs were spread pretty wide, giving Dean access to my private parts, and there was nothing I could do about it except jerk around a bit.

I hung there a bit, wrists tied behind my back, breasts tied, ankles tied and pulled apart. I swung slowly, as if a light breeze were pushing me, but in reality it was just my breathing and heartbeat. I had a view of the wall across from me, but Dean wasn't within my view and I considered that I might be hanging there by myself for a while.

I tested the ropes. Yeah, I knew they were secure, but I couldn't help it. And it was part of the excitement-- struggling. Finding out I really was suspended upside down like a piece of meat, unable to move.

No worries. He didn't leave me alone long. Before a couple of minutes went by (it always seems longer when you are hanging upside down), I felt his fingers suddenly digging into my cunt. He felt around, deep inside. I could feel him going deep, fondling my cervix, pushing it around, and his thumb was on my clit. I couldn't help but moan a bit. I was already so fucking aroused from being tied up all I wanted was another orgasm.

I really seemed I might get it. He was jamming fingers deep into me, which hurt but the pain was something I was used to and associated with cumming, so I began to breath harder. The sounds I was making were the pain grunting I make when being roughly manipulated inside.

His fingers were completely wet from my cunt when he withdrew them and shoved them into my ass. A bit unexpected, but then anything he does is unexpected. I just embraced the sensation and let it happen, feeling myself coming closer to orgasm as he rammed fingers deep inside me. He keeps his nails trimmed (like a good lesbian), so he could dig around inside me, pushing and manipulating the tissues deep inside. He pushed hard enough it felt like he was manipulating both my rectum and my vagina, which was interesting, while a little painful.

He was getting my ass prepared for the next stage.

I'd been inverted about five minutes but it was already getting uncomfortable. The pressure in my head had settled in and the disorientation was difficult to deal with. I knew it was just the beginning though. Endurance. Part of what I do in bondage. Endure.

He showed me the next item I would have to deal with. The enema bag. Full. Very full. I didn't know how much but it was certain it wasn't a small one.

"Oh... fuck..." I said.

"Maybe a bit later," he said casually and inserted the nozzle into my ass. He didn't need lube, he had loosened my anus with his fingers quite effectively. It was a simple nozzle, not one of the fancy inflatables-- he didn't need those because I was upside down and it wouldn't fall out, and was thin enough I wouldn't be able to push out. And if I did, I would just be burbling my own feces all over myself, so I wasn't going to try and expel anything while upside down.

The guy knows his stuff. He's evil.

There was no preparation, no todo, no ceremony, no waiting. The nozzle went inside me, and a second later I felt the liquid flow. It went in easier than other enemas, I believe because I was inverted. My bowels filled, the water draining through my large intestine and making its way further up... or down? It felt different than other enemas going in, probably because of my inversion. I could feel it spreading, the sensation covering a larger portion of my abdomen, and moving quickly, too.

"Holy shit," I said. Or something equivalent, I don't remember exactly. I'd had plenty of enemas in my life but this was the first one inverted and it seemed to just slide in easy and smooth and fill me quickly. It wasn't painful, just very filling.

At first.

I think almost all of the liquid had gone in when the peristalsis hit. Peristalsis is the normal motion of the intestines that push matter along in the downward direction. When an enema interferes with this normal function, the intestines cramp trying to do their job. It's like bad diarrhea pain and hurts like hell.

This doesn't always happen with enemas, but it's more likely with large ones, deep ones, and ones that contain certain types of additives. I don't know exactly what Dean did but that enema went in smooth and deep, and when it was done, the cramps hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Oh... fuck... Dean... oh god... oh shit that hurts... Dean, please... no more..."

"I think now is the time for your gag," he said conversationally.

He slipped a ball gag into my mouth and buckled it tight. Ball gags don't really stop me from making a lot of noise, but they do make it harder to be understood. It's a psychological, mental plaything. It also holds the jaw open (another form of immobilization) and makes you drool, which is especially unpleasant when hanging upside down.

My wrists were already tied to the crotch rope which pulled back on my arms and shoulders. I used this to pull my shoulders and head back a bit so my face pointed down to the ground, rather than facing the wall. This was a little less nauseating and disorienting than being completely upside down, and the drool from my gag didn't run down into my nose and eyes.

I could do this for short periods at a time, but the muscle strain was too long for more than a few seconds. It also made me start to swing back and forth, which doesn't help the disorientation.

The cramps also made the nausea worse. Hanging upside down, being disoriented, and having severe stomach pain came together to make me really nauseous. I grunted and moaned and complained through my gag, and what it got me was partly good, partly bad.

"It hurts, I get that." Dean said calmly. "It's supposed to hurt, actually. That's what I do here. Make women hurt."

Yeah, I that's why I came there, too. To be hurt. But damn, this was awful.


I kept moving my head back to keep the drool from sliding up my face, and to help keep my head from being completely upside down. This caused my body to swing back and forth gently.

Dean watched me for a while as I struggled, trying to cope with the liquid flowing in, bloating my stomach. It's actually sort of humiliating to have someone give you a forced enema. I don't know how else to describe it (other than painful). Having him sit and watch me suffering from this humiliation intensified the feelings of pain and helplessness.

"Let me help you," he said after a couple of minutes. "The enema is basically in, we will let the last bits drip in but maybe we can distract you from the pain in your abdomen."

He squeezed the enema bag, forcing the last few ounces of water into my bowels, but left the nozzle in.

"We'll leave this in to help you retain the enema. Now. For your distraction."

I had been grunting and moaning and even trying to bend at my waist because of the cramping, which was really very painful; more pain than I normally get in a bondage session. I had also begun swearing at Dean, taking my frustrations and mental suffering out on him the only way I could. He ignored it, of course.

What he did do was an example of why I return to Dean, even though he can get rather intense.

A nice vibrator, right on my clit.

Oh fuck, the mixture of pain and pleasure upside down was about ready to make me explode. It didn't take long before I was shuddering with the warm glow of an orgasm at Dean's control. He didn't hold back either. He pressed that vibrator to my cunt, massaged me, slid it over my lips, and pulled that orgasm out of me.

It's an enigma, or contradiction of sorts, of how I can have such pleasure in the midst of pain and discomfort. The peristalsis had actually subsided somewhat by the time he began the vibrator, but was still there, and being upside down wasn't exactly comfortable. And yet I came like a freight train.

The only explanation I have for this is Pavlovian. I started doing self bondage in my early teens and associated it with sex play from that time. The bondage evolved and became more intense, and uncomfortable, and actually painful, and all the while it was still associated with orgasms and sexual pleasure. So... over time I have come to associate being tied up and abused with sexual pleasure and orgasms. Pain doesn't prevent me from having an orgasm, in fact it makes orgasms more intense.

It was the second orgasm of the session.

I'd been suspended upside down for about 20 minutes, maybe half an hour. But he wasn't done with me. The cramps were coming and going, at times gone. He decided to distract me from the abdominal pain with some pain elsewhere. Namely, my breasts.

It is a strange discovery but nevertheless quite true that when suffering one kind of pain, having pain applied to another area of the body, a different kind of pain, can actually lessen the first pain. It actually can help. Not a lot, because then you have to suffer the second kind of pain, and eventually you are just suffering, regardless of where.

But at least for a little while, having pain applied to my breasts, distracted me from the pain in my stomach.

Dean used a flogger to whip my breasts. A much more typical kind of pain, one I am very used to. Having my breasts whipped is not a big deal to me (any more). In fact, it acts as a great warm up to some really good orgasms. (Yes, I am a sick puppy). Nipple clamps are sort of in the same category as a breast flogging-- pain I have gotten used to and can actually enhance the physical experience of bondage related sex.

Dean gave my tits a good flogging. Don't get me wrong, it hurt. It also distracted from the cramping, though that was very sporadic. Sometimes I was just suffering from the breast flogging. The breast pain also did a fantastic job of distracting me from the nausea.

I have no idea how far the enema had trickled inside me, but I did know it had made its way deep inside. Further than any enema I had experienced.

I couldn't help it, I reacted to every strike of the flogger, tensing my muscles, jerking. That didn't help the enema cramps much, and eventually I was exhausted. Simply exhausted. The different kinds of pain, the orgasm, the jerking and struggling, it all produced a sense of complete exhaustion, mentally and physically.

Yes, I can be broken. Give me enough torture and helplessness and humiliation and pain and pleasure and orgasms, I am reduced into a wobbling bit of jelly that has stopped thinking, and just reacts. Just obeys. Just endures.

I had reached that state, and Dean could see it. I was crying, but not hard. Just tears mixing with the snot and drool dripping down (or up) my face.

Dean stopped whipping me and said, "Give me another few orgasms."

I didn't argue. I just hung there. The bloat and cramping in my stomach was just part of life, to be endured. I waited as he took the vibrator and hung it from above, and pushed it into my cunt, where it stayed on the highest setting.

I only had one more orgasm before he had mercy. It had taken me another ten minutes under the unrelenting stimulation of the vibrator for me to cum, I was too exhausted and in too much pain, too disoriented.

He let me down. Lowering me slowly onto the concrete floor of his playroom, my head touched first, then my shoulders, then back, then ass. As soon as my shoulders touched I felt the blood begin to flow in better directions, my head felt better, and as I descended my entire body and well being began to feel better.

Except for the cramps, which renewed as soon as he lifted me up into a standing position and held me there. I was dizzy, very dizzy, unable to stand on my own. And I needed to expel that enema, really, really badly. It hit me as soon as I stood, just how badly I needed to go. A bit leaked past the nozzle that was still inside me, now that gravity was helping my bowels. (This is an example of why Dean doesn't have carpeting. A large part of his playroom is actually covered with rubber floor matting.)

He guided me to a bucket and helped me squat over it.

I didn't have to ask; as soon as the plug was removed the enema flooded out in one huge squirt. It was such a relief to get out, I didn't even think about the humiliation of being made to poop diarrhea into a bucket in front of a man. The initial squirt lasted a few seconds and provided immediate relief, but it wasn't all. A few seconds another squirt came out. And then another. And another.

After ten minutes or so the amount of squirting had subsided to an occasional trickle. The embarrassment of what was going on hit me then. I was sitting on a bucket, naked, while Dean observed me pooping into it, performing a body function.

Ah well, this is the life I have chosen. Or perhaps, the life that chose me.


I hadn't gotten any more of the enema out of me for a few minutes when Dean suggested I go ahead and dump the bucket in the toilet. I was still gagged and had my arms tied behind my back, but I stood and carried it into the bathroom, managed to dump it and flush.

That was another humiliation; having to clean up my own mess that happened as a result of his torturing me.

But I did it. And then came back out and sat on the same bucket for another half an hour because I kept leaking. The inverted enema had pushed so far up into my bowels it was taking a long time to come out.

When I finally felt well enough to go home, Dean made a small suggestion, sort of the last bit of humiliation.

"You may continue to leak a bit for up to a day, given the amount of liquid and how deep it went. I suggest you wear a butt plug until tomorrow morning."

He pulled out a nice, clean, stainless steel ass plug for me and watched as I inserted it before getting dressed.

"No worries. You can return it the next time you drop by for a session."

I kissed him before climbing into my car. He hadn't fucked me at all during the session, though I was certain he'd masturbate to thoughts of it later.

I did too.

Vacuum Bed

As you may imagine I have acquaintance with a variety of people in the BDSM community in my area. My ex-next door neighbor (before I moved out during the divorce) is a dominatrix and has a pretty serious D/s relationship with her husband. She's good at it, maybe because she really believes in it. I've played with a few other men and even a woman or two in the greater LA area, and spent a little time in clubs in San Francisco (though that was a while ago).

One friend south of me (San Diego) is an inveterate kinkster and pervert (we shall call him Mark). I've played with him a bit over the years, but not a lot. (To be honest he isn't that great looking and while he is a nice guy, he just isn't my style). Anyway, Mark recently contacted me and asked if I wanted to try something out.

A vacuum bed.

Yeah, I've never done that one before; in fact I think I have kind of avoided it, which is strange because my core kink is to be restrained, immobilized, and then manipulated and perhaps tortured or fucked.

I think I have avoided the vacuum bed thing for so long because not many people have one; because of the noise of the vacuum going all the time (many vac-beds are not airtight and the vacuum noise just seems distracting and dumb); and because I just have a focus, a fetish if you will, on being tied up. I need to be forced, exposed, manipulated. A ring gag forcing my mouth open, allowing a fat cock to fuck my throat. Forced to be bent over so someone can ream my ass with a strapon. Legs tied and forced as wide open as they can go, exposed to my dom so he can fiddle with my cunt as much as he likes and there is nothing I can fucking do about it.

Vac-beds have just never appealed to me.

Mark told me a mutual friend of ours, Steve, has a brand new vac-bed, and it is supposedly airtight so the vacuum only runs for a few seconds. And it has "accessories." Huh. Well, I figured it was time for me to give it a try. I'm usually up to trying things once just to see whether I like them. I've done some pretty disgusting things just to try them. Once. At least now I know that drinking piss is really not something that gets me off in any way at all (I sorta knew that but hey-- now I know for sure).

You know, I have to say that a lot of times, the physical kink I have tried, the weird thing, isn't in any way pleasurable and I would really rather not do it and yet in combination with other things it can enhance a scene. Urine is an example.

Yeah, I hate the idea of drinking urine, or doing golden showers. I would never willingly just head for a bathroom and say, "hey, pee on me, it gets me off."  I've known guys that were into that, or wanted to try it. Nope. Not a turn on at all.

On the other hand, I have a strong kink, a real fetish for being tied up and forced to do things I don't like. The being forced to experience discomfort, pain, and do things I wouldn't normally do accentuates the feeling of helplessness in being restrained and in someone else's control. That's what I get off on.

 So yeah, I've been tied up, catheterized, and had the tube attached to a bag over my head so I was forced to slowly pee on myself. Drip... drop... drip... All while tied up in inescapably, unable to do a damn thing about it.

So it wasn't the urine itself that got me off. It was that I was tied up, helpless and forced to do something humiliating and obnoxious because there was nothing I could do about it. All while having a vibrator force me to an orgasm.

Yeah. I would never choose to do the whole pee thing, but... being forced while tied up... that gets me off.

So yeah, I am not going to go through all the disgusting things I have done, or done to myself over the years just in the name of trying things out.  But I've tried a lot, and one of them was urine.

Actually, the urine thing, the first time it happened wasn't my idea. I was about 25 and had turned myself over to a particularly intense dom, who had asked me about my limits. I had told him my limits were basically:

• Nothing that would cause permanent injury
• Nothing that would cause permanent disfigurement
• Nothing that would threaten my long term health
• Nothing that would require medical treatment
• Nothing that would cause temporary disfigurement in an area that would prevent me from being seen in public
• Nothing that would be public and could damage my reputation in any way
• Nothing illegal

Those are actually common sense, and cover things like no scarification, no deep cuts or tears of flesh, no electric play that would threaten the heart, nothing that is going to cause pulled muscles or torn ligaments, that kind of thing.

Apparently tying me to a chair and having me catheterized so my own slow urine production filled a plastic bag over my head... that was allowed. And yeah, I guess it was.

In fact, the guidelines above allow an incredibly broad set of really disgusting, unpleasant and painful things. Some electric play can be excruciatingly painful, and yet leave no scars, not even any real temporary wounds except for some redness-- light burns. The guidelines allow me to be hung upside down, tied into a tiny ball, forced to lick a toilet (though that could be considered threatening to health if the toilet is disgusting and covered with viruses).

The guidelines also allow for things like needles under fingernails, staples, minor blood play, being shoved in chests and transported to places other than where we started, enemas, induced vomiting, and... being forced to urinate on one's self.

I guess that's the whole idea. When I turn myself over to someone, I don't know what is going to happen. I know I will walk out of there essentially unharmed and able to continue my life, but for however long I am being dominated, I am helpless and out of control.

Wow, I am getting way off topic here. I was talking about the vac-bed.

But I think the discussion is relevant to why the vac-bed has never seemed that wonderful to me. It's extreme restraint, yes. But once restrained... then what? I love not being able to move. But I've become more and more dependent over the years and having other things going on that reinforce my helplessness. Pain. Disgusting things. Whatever. The vac-beds essentially seal you up so nothing can get to you. The experience is limited.

In the interest of experimentation and given the fact that vac-beds are not necessarily that easy to come by, I decided to take my friend up on his offer and give it a shot.

I've never played with Steve, though Mark has. Mark's bisexual and loves cock as well as pussy, and Steve has a gorgeous girlfriend and the three of them get together frequently for play involving spanking, nipple clamps, whips, chains... you know the drill. The one reason I have played with Mark at all is that he has a fair amount of equipment, which is a big advantage. He's got a couple of fucking/spanking horses, a St. Andrew's cross, chains and whips and plenty of hooks and eyelets in the ceiling and walls, and is just generally prepared to make life miserable for the likes of me.

Steve brought the vac-bed to Mark's place, because I trust Mark but haven't played with Steve yet and needed the extra reassurance of having a familiar person and environment. Nice thing about vacuum beds-- they can fold up and transport very easily.

I got to Mark's place in the early afternoon one Saturday and saw the vacuum bed all set up. He could have put it on the bed, but nooooo.... it was on a tile floor. We talked a bit, but then it was time for me to get naked.

Stripping in front of two hairy, drooling guys that are clothed is always a bit awkward, and also turns me on quite a bit. It's the beginning of me becoming submissive, of allowing someone else to take over and start doing things to me. I've been naked in front of guys so much in my life, you'd think I would be comfortable with it, which I am, but still... there is always this sense of vulnerability to stripping.

I folded my clothes and put them on a table, and stood waiting for them to instruct me. I didn't know what was going to happen other than I would be sealed inside this latex packaging that would make it almost impossible to move much.

The vac-bed looked a bit different that I thought it would. It was made of a heavier material than I thought, and had a metal rectangular frame-- I thought they were all PVC pipe. It was basically just to flat pieces of heavy black latex, except up at the top of one end was a small plastic pipe. My breathing tube.

I was getting nervous. And excited. Yeah, I am afraid so, my pussy was actually getting a bit wet just looking at this thing and being naked.

"OK, Siobhan, time to slip in. Just slide in this open part. Once inside, position under the breathing tube and grip it in your mouth," Steve was giving instructions, and holding the top latex sheet up.

I knelt and got on my ass, and slipped in to the thing as if it were a sleeping bag. It smelled a bit and felt really strange-- being latex it wasn't going to breathe and I began to sweat the moment my legs slid into it.

I scooched down and in. I remember the point where my head went in and I started up at the dark latex interior. It hadn't occurred to me until that moment that my face would be completely covered by the latex. A bit of light shown through, but not much. It was going to be like putting on a full hood. I wouldn't be able to see anything.

Nerves started taking over. This was really a bizarre experience. The smooth feeling of the latex was weird, not at all like actually being in a bed or sleeping bag. The feeling was very unnatural. My mouth searched for the breathing tube and I panicked just a bit. What if they vacuumed me before I get the breathing tube in? I calmed and managed to find it and grabbed it between my teeth. Breathing in through it I felt a bit better-- it was clear and breathing would be OK.

My hands were at my sides and I felt awkward-- what was I supposed to do with them? I slid my left had over my hips and between my legs, so I could masturbate while secured.

"Nope. Don't touch yourself," said Steve. I could hear him just fine. He was doing something with the top of the latex, rolling it up or something. I was sealed in pretty well at that point and had to breath through the tube. My eyes were closed because, well, there was nothing to look at and pretty soon the latex would squish down on my face. My breathing was slow and deep because I was forcing it that way.

Moving my hand to my side again, I felt Mark bang on the inside of my legs, telling me to spread them a bit. I did. The bed was wide enough I could spread my legs in a good V, exposing my cunt, though at the moment nothing could get to it. I didn't really wonder why he wanted my legs spread; guys always want me to spread my legs.

I lay there in the latex, sweating like a pig and feeling a combination of nervous and silly.

Suddenly, it happened. It was surprising how fast it was. One moment I was simply laying between two sheets of latex, the next the vacuum was on and the latex was squeezing together. It took all of 3 or 4 seconds before I could feel the squeeze of the latex on my body. The vacuum remained on another 10 seconds or so, pulling the last bit of air out.

Whoa, that thing was tight. I mean, I lay there and felt the latex just squeeze and conform to my body like a shell, and I couldn't move. Almost immediately I couldn't move. Not even my fucking fingers.

I had never felt anything so complete. Bondage, shmondage. This fucker had just immobilized every bit of my body. What a fucking fantastic feeling.

The vacuum went off in less than 30 seconds and all was quiet. I could then hear Mark and Steve talking. They were discussing what I looked like in latex. Apparently the shape of my body was clear and perfectly visible, right down to my camel toe.

I tried to move. I could move a bit, mostly up and down, but not side to side. The latex was flexible, but I couldn't move out of it or inside it. Just push or pull it. There was no problem breathing, either, even though the latex was smashed down against my chest.

Which was where I felt their hands. Both guys were feeling me, running their hands along my body in the latex. I could feel the pressure, though not the fine texture of their skin because, obviously, there was a layer of latex between us. Even so I had the nervous tingle of knowing someone was feeling my body and I was helpless about it.

I kept trying to move a bit here and there; I tried moving my hands over to my legs and to my clit, it was impossible. I couldn't even move my fingers. I wasn't completely immobile because the latex itself would stretch and move a bit, but the vacuum was complete and there was no way my body was moving between the latex sheets.

Someone's hand reached between my legs and massaged my pussy. I thrust my hips up a bit, urging them on. I had no idea who it was, but it didn't matter. Someone was masturbating me and I might as well urge them on.

Then the vibrator came. Right on my pussy. My breathing quickened, my thrusts and wiggles got a bit more intense. I couldn't do anything, couldn't get away from it, and it was just... there. Urging me slowly but relentlessly to climax.

It only took three minutes or so. Being totally restrained, so totally bound, was incredibly arousing to me and the vibrator had me whimpering through my breathing tube in no time. I made a very un-ladylike grunting noise when I came.

The vibrator kept on, even when I orgasmed. They didn't remove it and it drove me insane. I was too sensitive down there, I wanted it stopped, and I actually made word noises through the tube, begging for mercy. No such luck. The vibrator stayed exactly where it was, and I felt myself slowly accepting it and wriggling with it, and then finally climaxing again. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck...

Finally the vibrator was removed. Nothing happened for a while.

I heard the two guys talking a bit. Slightly muffled, but I could understand.

"Try it now?"

"Yeah. How long?"

"Start with a few seconds, work her up to longer."

What were they talking about?

I found out what they were talking about when I suddenly couldn't breathe any more. The breathing tube was blocked off. I'd say I started gasping, but gasping involves actually get in some air. My body contracted, my stomach and chest moved, I tried to suck in air, but there was nothing to suck in.

It only lasted a few seconds but came so suddenly, was so shocking, it completely destroyed my mental state. I started moaning and protesting through the tube as soon as they released it, grunting and begging for them not to do that again.

Of course, that had no effect. A took all of three breaths and whammo-- no air. I pulled and grasped and tried to move and struggle, but I couldn't. I literally couldn't move anything other than to lift my stomach and chest up, and push my hips around an inch or so. It wasn't as much of a shock the second time, but damn it was so completely mentally stripping, to realize I was so helpless.

I almost came again right then.

The breathing tube was blocked about once a minute after that, for 30 seconds each.

Then the vibrator came again. Each time the vibrator was pressed on my cunt, the air was cut off. So if I was being sexually stimulated, I couldn't breath. If I could breathe, the vibrator was gone. This cycle went on for several minutes until I finally came again, my entire body shaking and vibrating in the latex.

Finally my breathing was left alone, but the fear the breath control had implanted in my brain was still there. I knew any breath might be my last and began panting a bit.

"Don't breathe too fast, you'll hyperventilate," Steve said. I did try to slow my breathing.

I was wondering how long I had been in the bed. My body was bathed in sweat, unable to evaporate. I wasn't hot though, it was just sweat that had no place to go.

Suddenly I was being lifted up. The two men had grabbed the steel frame and lifted me off the floor. Where on earth were they taking me?

Nowhere, it seemed. They lifted me up slightly, then lifted my legs up higher and higher until I was upside down.

Now, realize that while I couldn't completely articulate because I had a tube in my mouth, I could still make a lot of noise. I am sure some of it was comprehensible. So when I swore at them, "mother fucking assholes goddamn bastards..." I heard laughter.

"You want some more vibrator?" Mark said.

"No thoot eee down..." I said. "Athholth."

"She wants more vibrator," Mark said. A moment later the vibrator was pushed against my cunt at full power, vibrating like I was riding the back of a Harley.

"Thhhuuucccckkkkk....." I said through the tube and concentrated on having another orgasm. I'd had three already, which was pretty good for a session, but frankly I was feeling like I had found my ideal bondage. Complete immobility.

The blood was rushing to my head, which is always unpleasant. I've spent a lot of time upside down in my life and it is never pleasant. I've never lost consciousness, but come close a couple of times.

When the fourth orgasm was over they spanked me. Holy fuck. I was upside down but that meant both my front and back were exposed and they had decided my latex covered ass was too tempting and got a big paddle Mark has for some of his special guests.

Each strike on my ass hurt like hell. I mean, the flesh didn't sting because of the impact on bare skin, it was more like getting a good paddling with jeans on. Except somehow the latex transmitting the impact better than denim, and I think the sweat that had built up added some sting or something. In any case, even though my ass was covered with latex, it was still thin and clinging enough that spanking felt as bad as any I had gotten.

I was crying, sobbing through my breathing tube when they stopped, and yes tears had collected around my eyes.

I guess that seemed like enough to them because they put me back down on the floor and released the latch and air filled the bed. It didn't rush in, but the tight sensation relieved right away, and when I wriggled, I could get more and more air in and finally had the two sheets of latex completely apart.

It was hella lot easier getting out. I slid right out because I was wet from sweat.

"Wow, you look like that was rough," Mark said. I didn't know it but being in that thing had totally messed with my makeup and skin, made me look like a zombie skeletazoid.

"Fuck that was intense," I said. They gave me water, I relaxed in a chair (no longer feeling weird being naked in front of them).

"I really need a shower," I got up and went into Mark's bathroom.

When I came out and got dressed, Mark asked, "So have you changed your mind about vacuum beds?"

"Um, yeah... I think I like them," I said. "I think I would still prefer being tied up, but yeah..."

Just before I left I confessed to Mark a thought that had been haunting me since halfway through the experience.

"I think this was very similar to mummification. I've never been mummified. I may have to try it sometime."

Mark grinned. "I can help with that."

I laughed. "I think I might try it with Jason first. Thanks Steve. It was a trip."