Everyone has one. A moment of their life, a memory that is burned into their brain. It's that memory that we sometimes think about in private moments that makes us feel embarrassed all over again, like it JUST happened to us. This is mine.
As I left off, I am bound and gagged by my own hand, very tightly wearing a spandex bodysuit, in a ground floor efficiency apartment. I'm alone and helpless. Welded to the chair so securely I can scarcely move at all. I'm definitely turned on but afraid too. How am I going to get out of this? I kept struggling to try and get either hand free but, as we all know, when you struggle in rope bondage all you do is tighten the ropes. It shifts them around and, like sand on a beach, everything finds its own best place to settle. It was surprising how tight my wrists were, not just bound but how they were pressed up against the chair's back. It would be hard for someone else to make it this secure. I was truly tied up, in serious trouble. Unable to get free, my mind was racing and I began looking around for another way out.
From bad to worse
I had a pair of scissors on the floor! They were just a few feet away but....they might just as well have been a million miles away. I was facing the apartment door, my back to the bed. Bound as I was, there was no way to reach down for anything. Not even if the scissors had been directly under the chair would I be able to get to them. Since my back was to the bed I thought, maybe I can tilt the chair back and somehow scoot the chair over, closer to the scissors and reach them. I had to take a shot at it.
My toes were the only thing not tied and I pressed them down into the carpeted floor to lift the front legs of the chair. As the chair tilted back I craned my neck around as far as the thick tape gag would allow, which wasn't far. I felt the chair tipping and was trying to estimate the distance to the bed. It was to far and I realized it to late! The chair tipped and continued tipping way past my center of gravity and I braced myself for what may be an impact with the floor.
The sensation of falling hit the pit of my stomach, that butterfly feeling made worse by the fact that I was immobilized against an unforgiving wooden chair. Then, nothing. It stopped. The top of the chair back caught the end of the bed and made a soft landing against the mattress. But I was even more stuck now. Bound and gagged tightly in white rope and spandex bodysuit tilted back past the point of no return against the end of the bed. I dared not move for fear I'd complete my fall the rest of the way to the floor.
I squirmed a bit testing to see how secure my position against bed was. The narrow high back chair swayed on the mattress like a canoe carrying too much weight. I was in danger of tipping over sideways. "God get me out of this" I thought. It was late at night, well after midnight, and I knew most everyone had retired for the evening. Those who hadn't had no idea that I was in a precarious situation and in dire need of help. "How long before someone would find me?" I knew that it would likely be days before anyone even knew I was missing. That feeling of panick began to well up again. I knew if I did, I would only make things worse. I tried to get the tape around my head to move by opening my sock filled mouth but, it was no use. I couldn't budge it. The tape stayed right where I'd placed it and effectively prevented any noise of consequence. I felt very alone and very scared for my life. I had one chance and one chance only. Get the scissors!
I committed myself to a plan of action that would, at best help free me. At worst, kill me. I began to rock up and down. My purpose was to rock the chair off the end of the mattress and let the chair fall the rest of the way go the floor. I planned to scoot the chair, somehow, over to where the scissors were a few feet away, to my right. If I could do that, I'd stand a chance of cutting myself free.
A hard landing
After several rhythmic motions the chair came off the mattress. Unfortunately, it did so left side first and that caused the chair to tip to the left and I landed hard on my left arm, the weight of my body and the chair combined for a painful impact on the floor. The carpet did little to help. I came to rest on my left side and my arm, which was still bound tightly behind the chair, was under the side of the chair back pinned between it and the floor. I knew instantly I would not be able to stay in this position very long. Thinking of my plan I tried to scoot the chair, in any direction, to exert some kind of control over my position on the floor. Nothing happened. My left arm effectively acted as a chalk under a wheel and only an immense amount of force would actually move the chair. I panicked and tried struggling, HARD but I'd done way to good a job to escape.
I was out of ideas and my mind began thinking of how long it would be before they found my body. I realized that my left arm would be asleep soon and that would further diminish my hopes of escape. I was in a hopeless bondage situation for the first time in my life, out of luck and running out of time. Any help would have to come from outside.
I knew if I was going to get out if this I'd need help from someone in the building or a passerby. Fortunately I lived in a small apartment and someone should be able to hear me if I could make noise. My left arm was now in serious pain with it pinned under the chair. I had to get the gag off somehow. I pried and flexed my jaw, nothing. More panic. I flexed again only this time the tape around my mouth began to move a little. Adrenaline kicked in and buoyed by that minor success, I kept flexing until....until....my lower jaw came open, part of the way and though I couldn't spit out the gag, I had the tight tape moved down far enough that I could make some audible sound.
I began to yell. Help! Not loud enough I thought. Heeeeeeeeeeelp! Better but who is awake and close enough to hear me? I had no idea. HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP! Louder now, my adrenal glands in full panic mode. There is nothing more terrifying than yelling for help in a panic situation and being greeted with silence. I kept it up however and after fifteen minutes was nearly exhausted. At least the activity had made me forget about the pain in my arm. Again, HEEEEEEEEE..."Say it again!" Came the distant response. A VOICE! Someone was definitely outside the apartment. HEEEELP! I shouted again. Then....I heard keys jingling in the door lock.
The first two faces to come through the door were county deputies, Hollywood Floridas finest. The third was Art, the building manager. He'd been watching late night TV when he heard me yelling for help. He called 911 and the deputies showed up. The first thing the deputy said when he came through the door was, "don't touch him!" What? I thought. I guess he thought they might be entering a violent crime scene and didn't want to disturb any potential evidence. Help me please I said still muffled through a partial gag. Finally realizing that there were no other bodies in the room, he and his partner lifted me back up to an upright position. Ahhhh! My arm was no longer being crushed under the chair and my weight. But...I was still very much bound. Just as tightly as I had been an hour earlier. Wearing a spandex bodysuit and about twelve feet of duct tape wrapped around my head and a sock stuffed in my mouth.
They pulled the sock out as they cut the tape off. "Who did this to you?" asked the senior deputy. Clearly he was thinking of who to press charges against. I explained that no one did it to me. I was an escape artist and a stunt I was practicing had gone wrong. That wasn't entirely a lie. I really had been an escape artist and practiced and performed before. I'd recently moved from St Augustine Florida, another true statement, and brought my escape items with me but things went bad when I tipped the chair over on accident. Of course they wanted to see some proof of this still determined to find blame, somewhere.
I offered that I had some books on the subject and could show them as soon as I'm untied. At this point Art was way more helpful in untying me, the deputies barely lifted a finger. The apartment door was open and Mike the building owner stuck his head in the door. "Everything ok?" He knew this was my apartment and seemed genuinely concerned for my safety. "Yes, I'm alright , I just had an accident". Mike stood there a few minutes, like he was watching a traffic accident that just occurred. He saw that I was still very tied up, only my hands had been freed by that time. "Well, okay" he replied and disappeared.
As soon as Art finished untying me, I got the books out of the closet and showed them to the deputies and they quickly lost interest and speaking into their shoulder mics "10..." whatever and apparently believing my story, departed. Art asked if I'd be okay and I assured him I was fine. And just like that, I was alone again.
It was probably the most embarrassing moment of my life but strangely, also one of the hottest. I'd been bound and gagged, helpless as a person could be, in a disastrous situation, had to call for help, police and virtual strangers rescued me from my bondage and as I sat on the bed thinking about it, something came up. For all the genuine fear and panic I'd experienced, some things don't change. The evening wasn't over yet. There was one last thing to take care of.