Warning re: self-bondage addicts

Postby Jack Roper » Sun Feb 10, 2013 2:04 pm

Dangerous Self-Tie

A little while ago I figured out another way to do a chair self-tie and did it to an extremely dangerous level. This tale is being posted as a way of warning to any of you other self-tie fans. Don’t do it! Read why….

I pulled out my high-back metal chair and placed it in the middle of the room. ..
Put rope around each ankle and cinched them too, pulling rope up over the knee and around the chair leg and seat, cinching this off too.

More rope tied around the knees and secured to the ankles.

Proceed to drink some coffee and water, then plopped a round rubber ball into my mouth, wrapping this in with some Wal-Mart gold duct tape. I went around my mouth and back of the neck about three times. More tape under the chin, then another strip over my nose down my cheeks. Full face gag. “Mmmmppphhh!”

Finally another strip of tape over the last one, down past the edge of my nose by over an inch, and taped to the cheeks. This is where I crossed the line: if this piece were to get closed for some reason I would start to suffocate for sure.

Then, tied one wrist roped contraption, which consisted of a loose tie of my left wrist around the metal chair vertical bar, wrapping rope just over the chair seat, around the wrist, looped back and through—loosely—maybe eight times. Cinched this with a long piece falling away. Extracted left hand from the loops and let it hang there.

More thick soft rope tied around my chest about 20 times, secured with a smaller piece over each shoulder down to the opposite elbow. Now, the chest rope is not possible to rise up much, but it can fall, tightening my arms to the chair, which it starts to do.

Then tie right wrist with some tough hemp rope, around and around the metal pole leading to my seat. A long strand hangs off the eight wraps and—somehow—this rope is swung up and over the binding, permitting a cinching of the right wrist. I throw this long strand over to my left hand and secure it up and over the mound of rope still hanging there, pulling knots closer and closer behind my back to unseen ropes.

I slowly push my fingers and left hand through this mound of hemp rope, finally feeling it snap in place at the base of my hand. I test it: it feels like someone else did this. I can’t get my wrist loose!

“Mmmmppphhhh!”

Luxuriating for a while in the rope’s keeping me securely bound to the metal chair—no apparent escape—for now—pulling the final loose strands even more and feeling the rope on both wrists tighten significantly more.

Alter Ego: “Aaarrgghh! What’s happening? Who tied me up? Shit, I can’t get out!” and other such thoughts and feelings course through my body-mind.

After a while still tying my hands tighter and tighter behind my back, further up to my chest ropes, binding the wrists to the horizontal ropes, with ropes going every which way behind my back—even up and around my neck two-times. Almost like a noose or someone gently chocking you.

Soon, you spot the dangerous finale this “game” could provide….an objectl to slide over to and push the nose duct tape even closer over my nostrils. Very much like playing with Death--right on the edge (psychological evaluations welcome) I succeed by pressing my face against a bookshelf nearby—with some effort--, and the airflow is now down to maybe two straws worth of air in one little opening.

I admire this extremely dangerous self-tie and take a deep breath in. Suddenly, inrushing air sucks at the air-hole, which seems to close completely and no amount of deep breathing is going to open it again. “It is duct tape, you idiot!”

Panic time. For sure! How long before you die…you better get out of this quick.
Time tp Make A Quick Prayer: “Jesus, help me!”

With amazing speed—greater than I could ever muster--my hands had the ropes binding them together apart, each strand, or clumps of ropes got pulled real fast. Crucial seconds ticking away…breathing more desperate by the second. Breathing becomes sharper and sharper, with just the odor of duct tape covering my lower face-- with no air.

Death was at hand for sure.

Got to get ropes off and pull tape off. Ropes pulled rapidly off right arm until I could reach up and pull the duct tape down.

Powerful gulps of air, many times.

Stupid, stupid thing to do.

Your positive comments, or should I say--constructive comments--are always welcome. Thanks for reading this warning to anyone else out there who likes to take it to the limit.

DON'T!

Re: Warning re: self-bondage addicts

Postby Zandor » Tue Feb 12, 2013 4:26 pm

I do not really like self bondage.... to loud for me that ill get cawt
You are q immortal

Re: Warning re: self-bondage addicts

Postby ParanoiaDoesBondage » Fri Mar 22, 2013 7:05 am

Never do that again. At least you learned something from that "experiment" of yours...
Last edited by ParanoiaDoesBondage on Mon Nov 25, 2013 3:23 am, edited 1 time in total.

Re: Warning re: self-bondage addicts

Postby Lake Lover » Fri Mar 22, 2013 7:27 am

ARRGGH! Why did you ever push that tape over your nostrils!!

I feel that just about everyone who has practiced self-ties for long, has ultimately put themselves in a dangerously inescapable situation. Therein lies the conundrum that faces us: to experience the thrill of being inescapably restrained, yet we must be able to escape. Or else.

Re: Warning re: self-bondage addicts

Postby Accro de la jupe » Sat Apr 06, 2013 1:28 am

GAGGED, VEILED AND TIED UP IN A HOBBLE SKIRT

Starting in my padded bra, knickers and tights, I slipped on a long-leg full-body lycra catsuit. Later, with my other clothes on over the top, even if I was hot, I wouldn’t be able to take it off. Effectively this would mean that I would be forced to wear the catsuit and forced to wear tights.

Next came my hobble skirt. My hobble skirt consists of cotton material sown with one seam into the form a long tube or cylinder; its length is double the measurement from my waist to my ankles. Its internal circumference is a couple of inches larger than the circumference of my hips. I turned it inside out and stepped into it, until the lower hem was just above my ankles, and the upper hem was under my armpits, with the upper half of the material scrunched up above my waist. I then fastened a belt around my waist, over the material, and turned the material of the upper half the correct way out, and pulled it downwards to cover the belt. I gently tugged what was now the outer layer of my skirt all the way down to my ankles. From the waist to the ankles, I now wore a double sheath of cotton, and any attempt to walk was severely restrained. I also made a distinct frou-frou at every limited step.

I gagged myself with a ball gag made from rolled up cloth and string. I knotted the string behind my neck. Now unable to speak, I put foam earplugs in my ears to reduce my hearing. I then took the first of my silk scarves, folded it into a triangle, and tied it on over my mouth, outlaw-style, with the knot on the top of my head. My ball gag was now concealed, and the scarf gag could not slip-off downwards.

After this, I took a piece of white nylon net curtain sufficiently large to cover my entire head, neck and the top part of my shoulders. To prevent this from coming loose, the best means of holding it safely in place is by passing a large rubber band over the head, down to the neck. This is sufficient to hold the net in place without any danger of strangulation.

The net curtain made an effective veil, reducing vision, but without rendering me completely sightless, and air can easily pass through it for breathing. However, it also meant that I couldn’t un-gag myself. Next, I put on a crew-neck sweater and pulled this fully into place.

So as not to look like some kind of alien with an all-white head, I took my second silk scarf and tied it on in Audrey Hepburn style, with the knot behind my neck. Worn like this, it concealed the rubber band that held my nylon veil in place. Beneath my scarf, I was veiled: and beneath my veil, I was gagged. Now, in fact, muliply-gagged.

It only now remained for me to slip the first of my wrists into the previously-prepared double loop of string. I then inserted the other, loose, half of the loop through a slip knot on a second piece of string (whose other end was temporarily attached to a door handle). Moving both my hands behind my back, I then inserted my other wrist into the looped string in the opposite direction, twisted so my arms were now parallel and the string in a figure of eight around my wrists. I then pulled on the second string so that the slip knot tightened, clinching the figure of eight in the middle. My wrists were now tied together behind my back. I released the far end of the second string from the door handle, and began to take very restricted steps away from the door and around my apartment. I shuffled to the bedroom, the farthest point.

My hobble skirt impeded every step and really slowed me down. With my head beneath one layer of nylon and two layers of satin scarves, and with foam earplugs and two gags, I could hear my every breath was rasping.

I then made a slow return passage towards the full-length mirror behind the front door. I contemplated myself, from the floor upwards. Black shoes and black nylon-clad ankles, and then the long green skirt up to my waist, completely concealing the shiny blue lycra beneath. Moving upwards, the blue sweater and my curves. My wrists tied together behind my back. But my head was the most fascinating. Veiled in white beneath a blue satin scarf. Due to a quirk of lighting and reflection, through my nylon veil it looked as if I were wearing a full-face scarf – my face appeared completely blank, white and featureless. Only if I stood right next to the mirror could I perceive the scarf gag beneath my veil. And of course the ball gag beneath that was completely concealed.

I had left the sharp kitchen knife in the bottom of a water-filled sink of crockery and cutlery. There was no way I could recover it with my hands tied behind me. I slowly swished my way from the hall back towards the bedroom, where I had left a short penknife on the bed. I sat down on the bed and did my best to manipulate the knife towards my bonds. Now I discovered, too late, that my wrists were tied too tightly together for this small knife to be of any use! I couldn’t escape!

I sat there as this eventuality sank in. How long would I be trapped like this? The tight skirt held my knees and legs together, the materail taut from pelvis to calves. My heaving breath rasped in my blocked ears. My throat was dry, as my ball gag was absorbing all my saliva – I could scarcely swallow. Beneath the layers of satin and nylon, sweat started to pour down my face.

I WAS ALONE AND TRAPPED. My skirt prevented me from walking properly. My hands were tied behind my back. I was gagged and could not cry for help.

I stood up and slowly made my way back to the mirror next to the front door, my skirt tight against my shins and calves at every short step. I contemplated my predicament once more. Featureless. Helpless. At least my bladder wasn’t very full. With a catsuit on – very deliberately, as extra, hidden, bondage - no matter how much I struggled, I couldn’t remove my underwear. Not only was I tied up, unless I was free to get completely undressed, I would of course eventually wet my knickers, tights and catsuit.

Apart from being in a potentially very serious situation, this was the best self-bondage I’d ever had. MAKE SURE THAT YOU CAN ESCAPE!

After a protracted period, I somehow succeeded in slipping the string off my bound wrists. But for a time I really was the helpless heroine – gagged, veiled, hands tied uselessly behind my back, my legs restrained by my narrow ankle-length skirt. And there was one final, hidden, element in this portrayal. Completely concealed beneath my hobble skirt, lycra catsuit, tights and knickers, was my virility.

Re: Warning re: self-bondage addicts

Postby Accro de la jupe » Sat Apr 13, 2013 3:11 am

As a postscript, here is a charming illustration from elsewhere on the www: http://web.archive.org/web/200412111432 ... tpage.html