A close escape

This is the story of how I nearly didn't make it out of bondage. At the
time, I was still young and inexperienced and just learning the ropes,
so to speak regarding the finer points of self-bondage.

It happened a long long time ago, when high technology was 64K and
Ronnie Reagan was bamboozling the Sovs at their own game.

I was home alone and decided to put myself into a self-bondage since my
parents would not be home for at least another 4 or so hours. Being
young as I was, it really would have been the ultimate in embarrassment
for my parents to discover me "all tied up." Hence the need to ensure I
would be private for a substantial length of time.

I am also a plastic and rubber fetishist so i began proceedings by
pulling on my bright yellow plastic raincoat and matching pants. Once I
have worn them for a while they get so wonderfully sweaty. The sticky
plastic really clings to my body.

At this point in time I had been spending a fair amount of time
practising hogtying myself ( I'd never heard of the "Super Hogtie at the
time ) and I was getting much too good at it. I'd already had had a
couple of close shaves wriggling out of the wrist noose. So I decided to
be smart. Before beginning tying myself up, I went down to the kitchen
and got a short and very sharp knife... just in case! I put it on the
small bedside table, handle facing me.

I bound my legs together at ankles and knees as tightly as I could. I
love to be tied up really tight. A crotch rope went on next. After tying
my legs together, I fashioned the wrist loop from a short length of
rope, looping it twice before knotting it, hangman style. ( something
like that, anyway ) I tied the end of this to the cinch rope around my
ankles, making it as short as possible. I tested it a couple of times by
experimentally passing my hands through it but not all the way. Once I
was satisfied I would be able to pass my hands through the loop, I tied
the ends off.

Then I lashed my arms to my sides as tightly as possible. With some
difficulty, I cinched the ropes binding my arms together by passing the
ends between the ropes and my armpits and pulling tight. My arms were
noe almost immobilised. Lastly, I added a waist rope. I tied it just
loosely enough so I could pass my wrists through.  

I gagged myself with a pair of panties I had stolen the other day from
my girlfriend of the time. They were still moist from her juices. (wow!)
I completed the gag by tying a length of soft whit cloth around my head
thus ensuring no speech was possible.

Quickly, I pushed my wrists through the wrist ropes. Movement was
suddenly greatly restricted. It took several minutes and a fair amount
of puffing and panting before I was able to force both hands through the
wrist coil. I pulled it tight by pulling on the opposite direction on my
ankles. I had successfully hogtied myself. It felt wonderful.

It was easily the best and tightest hogtie I had done to date ( this was
before the incident at my flatmates house at university detailed in "A
True Story" ) I rolled around ecstatically, luxuriating in the sticky
plastic and the tightness of my ropes.

Eventually, getting worried my parents might come home earlier than they
should, I decided to free myself. ( I always gave myself a safety margin
of an hour ) It was not long before I realised that I would not be
getting free without the aid of the knife. My hogtie was too tight. I
could not create any slack which I needed in the hogtie rope to loosen
the wrist coil to wriggle free.

I maneuvred myself so I could grip the knife handle with my teeth. At
last, I managed to grip it and dragged it towards me. Suddenly disaster
struck. I accidentally let go. It quickly slid off the sheet and
disappeared between the bed and the wall. I was now REALLY helplessly
bound with no chance of escape.

OH NO! What will my parents say if they find me like this? I was
absolutely horrified with my own stupidity and bad luck. Fortunately, my
bed was one of those trundle type ones. The trundle bed was in the spare
room. ( we'd just had friends over the night before ) So I still had a
chance to extricate myself from the bind I was in. If I just could
wriggle underneath it and get the knife.

I had little difficulty sliding off the bed, knowing the thick rug would
cushion my landing. Once on the floor, the gravity of the situation hit
home and I came, just like that all over the inside of my plasic pants.
Oh the relief! There is nothing like being truly helpless to get the ol'
juices going!

Somehow, I managed to crawl under the bed. To no avail. The knife was
lying flush and parallel to the wall so I could not reach it with my
teeth. Tears of rage and frustation filling my eyes, I contemplated the
prospect of discovery. Thinking fast, it occured to me to try again but
to reverse in, so to speak and use my feet or toes that is, to get at
the knife.

Again, I slid under the bed. This time, I was successful. I reached the
knife with my toes and pulled it towards me. Eventually, I emerged from
beneath the bed, clutching the precious knife in my hands. 

It was the work of moments to cut the hogtie rope and free myself with
15 minutes to spare. My wrists were red and raw from the rubbing of the
ropes as were my ankles, knees and upper arms. By then, I had been tied
up for nearly two hours. It was several days before I could uncover them
in front of anyone.

Once I had pulled off the last ropes, I slid off my sweat-soaked plastic
pants, leaving on my raincoat and gag and got out a couple of bondage
magazines to provide further stimulation. I completed a perfect evening
by masturbating myself to one of the most God almighty orgasms I had
ever had with my own hands.

A few minutes later, my parents arrived home... to find me reading a
good book as if nothing had happened.

Aussie TV bondagelover