Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

A Close Call

by Lyndia

The article is reproduced here for information, education & dissemination purposes only.
WARNING - Do not attempt to use these techniques without adequate back-up, anyone who attempts to use the techniques, ideas or suggestions shown here in may result in injury or death.
If you're unsure about it - then don't do it!
A Close Call
This page first appeared on Lillian's Nexus and is show here for information, education & dissemination purposes only
Lyndia is one of Lillan's internet friends. Here she is telling about an adventure where she gets into a bit of spot.

Lyndia Gets Stuck

Some of the self-bondage graphics files on Lillan's homepage describing hogties are very interesting! I used a crude noose arrangement when I first started, which if pulled tight enough between my wrists and my ankles, gave me the impression of tight bondage (especially if I couldn't get the knot holding the free end of the noose untied from my ankle ropes! Where did that knife go?). Handcuffs have served me well in the intervening years however, although I had a small slip-up a few years ago that gave me quite a scare.

I'd tied myself in my usual tight manner this day, but had forgotten to check which way the keyhole was facing when I fastened my handcuffs (bad move!). I was dressed in a sheer full-length black body stocking, but with seamed black nylons pulled up over my legs and fastened to a black corset (the body stocking helped to disguise the false breasts filling the cups of my corset. I had a pair of high-waisted black panties on over the suspenders, in the best Irving Klaw tradition. I had a long pair of lycra evening gloves pulled up over the sheer body stocking past my elbows (black, of course) but didn't own any high heels at that stage and had to contend with stockinged feet.

My bondage was immaculate - tight loops of rope at ankles, knees and thighs (cinched, of course), followed by tight ropes around my waist and pulled between my legs. My heavily lined and darkly-shadowed eyes were glaring intensely at me from beneath the fringe of my shoulder-length blonde wig and I'd taken ages to apply my gag in front of the mirror, to make sure it looked (and worked) perfectly!

My choice of gag for this session involved a pair of balled silk panties wrapped in the centre of a thin chiffon scarf, knotted deep between my dark red lips. Biting down on the gag, I then smeared several pieces of thin stretchy surgical tape almost ear-to-ear over my gagged mouth, criss-crossed to ensure an airtight seal and almost total silence. (Try it some time, it's very effective and helps to prevent the feeling of choking if you like to spend a few `quiet' moments with panties shoved in your mouth!)

To be extra specially daring this day, I'd left the handcuff key in the kitchen, quite some hop from the bedroom (I knew nothing of timed release techniques in those days!). On the subject of wrist and arm restraints, getting my elbows together (Irving Klaw style) has always fascinated me, so this day I decided to try out what I thought was a safe but ingenious method of trying to pull them closer and closer....

My plan was to make a pulley style of arrangement, which I could use to pull my elbows together, but that would still come undone later on demand. I started with two studded leather elbow cuffs. After fastening them firmly above my elbows over my gloves, I took a relatively short piece of rope, about five or six feet long and tied it to the large D Ring on one of the fetters (say, the right one). The next step was to thread the free end of the rope through the D ring of the fetter on my left hand side (passing the rope behind my back). Once it went through the ring on the left hand cuff, I passed the rope behind my back again and threaded it through the original right hand cuff, so it formed a kind of crude `there-and-back' pulley arrangement. The centre chain of the handcuffs were knotted close to the end of the rope, with a short length of rope (about 10 inches long) remaining. I tied a small slip-proof loop into the end.

Standing up on my stockinged and bound feet, I hopped over to the door and backed up to the doorknob, slipping the small loop over it. By alternately hopping away from the door and bending forward at the waist, I could pull the rope tighter and tighter between the elbow fetters, bringing them closer and closer together. This all took some very careful balancing and caused some very real moaning from behind my gag! The next step, once my elbows were as close together as I could comfortably manage (in my heightened state of excitement, they got pretty close!), I started to loop the rope in a figure eight fashion around my elbows, to ensure the tension on the rope (and my elbows) didn't slacken.

By maintaining the pressure on the rope from the door knob, making sure the rope didn't loosen, I very carefully walked my way back in on my bound feet (swivelling from heel to toe), turning alternately side on to the door and taking another bite over the top of rope with my gloved arms, so the rope formed a figure eight above my elbows (turning side-on helped to slide the rope up over the forearms and above the crook of the elbow). Once I had several turns of rope around my elbows, and the natural friction of the rope was holding the tension, I started to wrap the rope around my forearms down towards my wrists. It didn't look as neat as I'd hoped (I'd thought I might be able to criss-cross it somehow, making it look like someone else had tied it, but the physical wherewithal of achieving that defeated me!)

Watching in the mirror, I could see that the handcuffs were very close to my wrists by now, and one more loop should place them in position at my wrists. I couldn't see what I was doing very well, and the mirror made everything awkwardly back-to-front and uncoordinated, but after a little while I did manage to click the cuffs tight one after the other to secure my wrists. As I slipped the loop of rope from over the door knob, the first catastrophe happened (only a minor one, surely?), when I overbalanced a little and I accidentally flicked the door against the doorstop. It bounced off the rubber stopper and slammed shut before I could reach out with my bound hands to stop it. No problem, I thought, I could reach the low set doorknob to get the rope off - I could easily open it again.

I hopped over to the bed and after quite a good deal of wriggling, pulling and pushing, set myself so I was kneeling on one edge facing diagonally across the bed. Reaching behind me, I fashioned another larger loop out of the looped free end of my elbow/handcuff restraint (the loop I'd used to pull my elbows tight on the doorknob) and, lifting my stockinged toes one foot at a time, pulled it over my insteps, with the rope to my cuffs between my heels.

Satisfied, I collapsed sideways (none too gently) onto the bed to start my hogtied captivity - the rope pulled tight across my insteps and pulling my shoulders back towards my heels. A quick toss of the head arranged the blonde wig such that I could see my beautifully made-up face - my heavily lined eyes taking in the powerful images! I especially liked the sight of my rampant cock outlined through the sheer, shiny black lycra panties. I squirmed around for a while positioning myself for the best view, then rolled over onto my stomach for the action to begin!

Just as an aside, I was secretly thankful that I'd chosen the scarf/panties/tape gag combination, as during a previous session I'd slid sideways only to have my ballgagged-open lips come into contact with the light coloured bedspread (this was before I let my partner in on my little secret, so trying to get a perfect scarlet lipstick kiss from the centre of the counterpane was murder!)

I won't go into the details of the desperate squirming and writhing which occurred during my captivity (maybe another time!), but it was truly mind-blowing (as usual!). The ropes down to the cuffs pulled my elbows tightly together, and pulled my shoulders and head back so I could see much better. I enjoyed the sensation immensely!

Before long, some over-exuberant struggling and frantic moaning caused a crashing orgasm (the combination tape/scarf/pantie gag holding my screams down to a level where the neighbours weren't unduly alerted!) and it was time to set myself free.

Time for catastrophe #2 - the fetters and looped ropes above my elbows were cutting off the blood supply to my hands and my fingers were getting mighty numb. I hadn't noticed just `how' numb in my frenzied attempts to `escape' but trying to slip the tightened noose over my toes took me quite a good deal of time and effort. I eventually managed it by forcing a gloved finger between the tight cinch and the loops of rope binding my ankles, and by pulling my ankles towards me to relieve the tension on the rope. With the pressure off, and with some slack in the short chain joining the cuffs together, I had enough freeplay to slip the rope over my toes and liberate myself from the hogtie. What a relief, I thought, things couldn't possibly get any worse!

Catastrophe #3 occurred when I had hopped awkwardly to the door to get to the kitchen to retrieve the keys to the handcuffs. I was trying to grasp the smooth round door knob with my deadened fingers - it wasn't much fun at all! The shiny lycra gloves didn't help much - I couldn't grip very well and the lycra was very slippery when trying to grip the door knob. After much moaning and groaning, I did manage to get the door open however (using both hands)!

Hopping out to the kitchen on my bound ankles also gave me a few additional aches and pains - one of the reasons I now prefer to wear boots these days is that my ankle bones banged together with each and every hop on my way to retrieve the key. It hurt like hell and I was secretly glad I wasn't wearing high heels, as that would have made things much worse!

I eventually got to the key but again, my fingers were killing me by this time and I couldn't feel a thing. My poor numbed fingers dropped the keys on the floor when I picked them up off the kitchen bench (Mmmmmmpphhh!!! Oh no!!!). Naturally, I couldn't manage to kneel down without falling over! I had to hop over to the adjacent family room so I could let myself down onto the floor without hurting myself (by supporting myself on a convenient sofa).

I returned to the kitchen, pushing myself on my deadened hands and sliding my silk-sheathed butt across the floor. I eventually got to the key and twisting my hands up by my side, tried to insert them into the keyholes.

Catastrophe #4 was the way I'd fastened the cuffs in the mirror with the keyholes facing the wrong direction (facing up and away from my hands)! No matter what I tried, I couldn't insert the key into the hole! I tried to position the key awkwardly with my gloved fingers, but every time it either slipped out of the hole or fell out because I couldn't hang onto it properly. The lack of tactile feeling through the tight black lycra gloves didn't help a bit, by the way!

Every time I'd try to twist my wrists around to position them so my fingers faced the keyhole, the elbow rope would pull them tighter together and cut off the blood supply even more. When I relaxed to let my fingers get their feeling back, they tingled like hell and really hurt! Also, every time I looked down, the blonde wig got in the way and I couldn't see down to my wrists. Tossing my head didn't help, as the fine hair fell straight back down into the way when I tipped my head forward again! At that point, I decided that I'd definitely need the services of a mirror to see what I was doing.

The return trip to the bedroom was a long one, especially with me pushing and pulling my butt along the carpet. I let go of the key twice on the return trip, having to back up and feel around in the now darkened passageway (yep, it had taken me quite some time to put all these disasters together!). I managed to kneel in front of the mirror when I eventually got back to the bedroom, but even then I couldn't get the key to sit in the hole above my wrist.

I wasn't game to look at myself in the mirror, as my make-up had run a little from the exertion. A quick look confirmed that I looked a bit worse for wear all right! I couldn't free the gag, no matter what I tried and the overall feeling of constraint and bondage kept flooding back into my consciousness. After all, what use would it have been to try and rub the tape off, when the balled panties were pulled deep into my mouth by the tightly knotted chiffon scarf!?

I can still vividly recall the look of concern in my heavily lined eyes, glaring back at me from over the tightly stretched, honey-coloured tape masking my lower face - for a moment in time, I really was a helpless bondage heroine. I honestly can't recall enjoying the experience at the time (I was getting pretty worried by then - and I looked it!) but since then I've found the thought quite exciting.

I dropped the key yet again, and had to lean down to try and rescue it. My feet were getting pretty numb by now from (a) being tied so tightly and (b) from me kneeling on them for so long, and I slipped over. How I didn't bang my head on something I'll never know!

I was getting *really* desperate by this stage, and for a few moments I did consider trying to stand up again and hop over to the phone. I don't know who I would've rung (or what they would've understood through the tape, scarf and panties of my gag), so the idea didn't last long!

It took me another 15 minutes of desperate struggling and real-life moaning before the key finally went into the hole and I could mercifully unfasten the cuffs and get untied. It took me quite a bit longer to get over such a marathon session and such a good scare!

Lyndia!

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