It occurred to me recently that I may have been holding out on you guys when I said that I only have one noteworthy self-bondage experience. There is in fact another one that I can remember quite clearly, and it's partially the reason why I don't do self-bondage anymore.
This story takes place a few months after my last one which can be found here: http://tieupgames.net/viewtopic.php?f=77&t=26471&p=210803#p210803
I should tell now that this story is basically half self-bondage, half me dealing with the aftermath of said self-bondage, so if you're only interested in the tie up details then you may want to skip this one. Now then, onto the show.
As is typical with most self-bondage stories, this one begins with me being home alone and having free time. I had just gotten in from school and had the house to myself for the next hour due to my mom's work schedule. I always looked forward to this time. Not only did it allow me time to practice my self-bondage, but it also served as "my time" which was refreshing for a 14 year old whose life was otherwise monitored.
On this particular day I decided that I would hogtie myself. It was one of the few ties I was capable of managing and didn't require much in the way of supplies. I ended up going through my closet and pulled out four of my cloth belts. Looking at them I could tell that they were bent out of shape from previous ties, but hey. I didn't know how to tie knots with rope, so I had to make due. If you're interested, the belts looked like this:http://i.ebayimg.com/00/s/NDA4WDUwMA==/z/91wAAMXQlgtSuMSX/$_35.JPG?set_id=2
However, rather than hogtie myself in my room, I decided to do it in the bathroom. It wasn't the ideal setup, and the cold tile floor didn't prove to be too comforting either, but after my mom had come home early and nearly caught me the last time, I wasn't going to take any chances. So I gathered my supplies and relocated to the only place where a kid can get some privacy.
The first thing I did was make sure to lay down a thick towel. I figured as long as I'm laying bare chested on a cold tile floor I may as well try to insulate it. Once that was taken care of, I began tying my ankles. I weaved the belt in, out, and around my ankles in a tight figure eight pattern, effectively wrapping each ankle in its own cuff. The belt was long, allowing me to double up on layers and wraparounds. I then grabbed another belt and attached it to my ankle tie. I left the end of the belt hanging loosely, but was careful not to let it slip back through because I would need it later.
After that, I moved on to my thighs. I wrapped another belt in a figure-eight pattern around and through my thighs. This ensured that I would not be able to separate my legs at all.
The next part was tricky. Using my final belt I tied my hands in front of me. I passed my hands through a loop I had created in the belt beforehand. Using some dexterity, I wrapped the slack around itself, passing it back through the D-ring each time. Then I grabbed the little bit of slack that was left and pulled with my teeth.
I then passed my tied hands under my bound feet and behind my back (I'm not flexible enough to do this anymore). Once my hands were behind me, I grabbed the loose piece of belt that I had left hanging from my ankles and attached it to my wrist tie. And with that my hogtie was complete.
I spent the next 15 minutes or so hogtied on my bathroom floor. Everything was going great. I was enjoying myself, and there was no sign of my mom coming home yet. In hindsight, I could have stopped here. But I got greedy.
After a few minutes of enjoying my own bondage, I decided I would change things up a bit by looping a belt around my forehead. I know it probably doesn't make much sense for me to have done this, but I had seen ties of this type in videos, so I thought I'd give it a shot. In these videos that I had watched, a woman would usually have her hair tied back and connected to her ankles. The overall objective was to force the head back and basically create a more stressful hogtie. Again, in hindsight, it was a bad idea for me to attempt to replicate something that I had only seen in a professional bdsm setting. But I'll be damned if 14 year old me wasn't going to give it a shot.
I wasn't sure how I was going to accomplish this feat, seeing as how I only had access to belts and no real rope knowledge. But I figured I'd have to make do. So, I undid my hogtie and, using the belt that was originally around my thighs, I connected my ankles all the way way to my head. I then retied my hands behind my back and I was back in business. (The exact details of how I managed all this are a little fuzzy. But never underestimate a 14 year old's ingenuity when it comes to finding an outlet for a fetish.)
At first everything was going rather smoothly. I had achieved the effect that I was looking for, more or less. My head and back were arched back towards my ankles creating a new sense of strictness in the hogtie. But of course I wouldn't be telling this story if everything had gone smoothly,
Shortly after, there was a moment where I relaxed my legs to ease the pressure on my forehead. This created slack in the belt and caused the loop that was originally around my forehead to drop down past my face and around my neck. Rather than immediately release myself (like any sane person would), 14 year old me decides to roll with it and test the limits of my new found predicament. Given that there wasn't any immediate danger or threat of my choking I continued to bask in my self-bondage predicament, enjoying this new found restiveness.
Once I reached the 45 minute mark I decide that I was content with my experience and began the process of untying myself. I untied my hands from behind my back (which wasn't that hard to do), then removed the belt from around my neck as well as untied the rest of my body. It was only after I stood up and looked in the mirror that I had realized my massive mistake.
Plastered across the front of my neck was a giant red pressure burn from the belt. I'm talking about a bright red. The type of bright red that you can't brush off as a rash or razor-burn. It also had a deliberate pattern design to it that matched the description of the belt that I had used.
Panicking, I tried to rub it off, as one does with traditional rope burns. When that didn't work I tried adding lotion and soaking the skin with warm water. That didn't work either. I was freaking out, but in that moment I decided that the priority was putting my bondage gear away. I returned all my materials to their original spots in an effort to clear any sort of indication as to the cause.
It was almost 5:00 and I knew my mom would be getting home soon. The next 15 minutes or so were spent frantically worrying and trying to come up with a cover story. But I couldn't think of anything that could explain my current situation. Oddly enough, I had just spent 45 minutes in self-bondage, but only now did I feel truly helpless.
I remember just sitting on my bed, waiting for the confrontation. I was running through all the possible scenarios in my head, frantically trying to generate an alibi, but nothing came to me. Eventually I heard the front door open and my mom calling my name. I would have to face the music.
In the end I decided to go with pleading ignorance. I walked out of my room to greet her in the kitchen, and she immediately freaked out when she saw the imprint across my neck. When she asked me what had happened, I pretended like I didn't know what she was talking about and went to the bathroom to “check in the mirror” acting like it was the first time I'd seen it.
Now, here is where the rabbit hole gets even deeper. Because around this time I was dealing with some pretty nasty stuff in my life. My parents were divorcing, my older brothers had moved out, we were in the processing of treating me for social anxiety, and my dog had just recently died. So, not a great time for a kid.
And when she saw this belt-pattern plastered across my neck, her mind instinctively jumped to the conclusion that I had tried (unsuccessfully) to hang/choke myself because of everything that was going on.
This was most definitely not the case, but what was I going to say? “Oh, no. I just tied myself up in the bathroom and in a lapse of judgment let a belt get caught around my neck because bondage makes me horny.” No. That wouldn't fly. My mom has always been very conservative when it comes to things like sex and fetishes. She swears to this day that she has never watched porn in her life and chastises anyone who engages in any sort of fetish or alternative lifestyle. She even skipped “The Talk” with me because it made her uncomfortable. It is for this reason that I was not about to tell her what I had actually been doing.
So, while I could genuinely look her in the eye and say “No. This wasn't me hurting myself.”, I didn't have anything to offer up as an explanation other than continuing to plead ignorance. Of course she didn't buy that and continued to assume some alternate motive. Fast forward a few hours later, I decide that I'm going to use the family computer. Upon pulling up the internet tab, I see a Google search for “Signs of teenagers choking themselves”. I decided not to mention what I had seen to my mom, but instead just let everything play out.
That night she came into my room while I was in bed and basically interrogated me. Asking me about the divorce, about school, if anyone was bullying me, etc. Then she offered up her own theory about how kids will sometimes choke themselves to restrict the supply of oxygen to the brain to get a sort of "artificial high". I take it that this was the sort of stuff she had read online. Again, I denied everything she threw at me, and was able to do it with relative ease because I wasn't lying by denying these things.
Looking back, I feel really bad because of all the stress and worry that I had caused her. But a far as I was concerned, this was a secret that I was taking to the grave. All I had to do was run out the clock.
The marks did eventually fade after about two days. Thankfully it was the start of the weekend so I didn't have to deal with school counselors or teachers also thinking that I was trying to hurt myself. I continued to plead ignorance and told my parents that they had nothing to worry about, and that I had no interest in hurting myself (which wasn't a lie, given the circumstances). Everybody moved on and it was never talked about again, although I'm sure they still think back to it.
I know this is probably a different style than what the forum is used to. No saucy bondage euphoria here. Just a lesson to always be careful when doing self-bondage because you never know when your fetish can have real world consequences.
There is only one God, and his name is Death. And there is only one thing we say to Death: Not today.