© Copyright 2005 - Jay Jenson - Used by permission
Storycodes: Sbm; cons; X
Shit and God dammit.
I’m really freaking stuck this time.
And the worst part is...I just had to put the cuffs to the last click
It’s quite simple, really. The parents were going away for a week. A whole week to myself, to do whatever I wanted. Which, of course, meant plenty of fun being helpless all alone. I won’t get a chance to do too much of that when I get back to college for my sophomore year, so I figured I could set up a nice few sessions in this week while they were out of town.
I mean come on. I’m a horny twenty year old guy with no girlfriend. What the hell else am I gonna do?
...and it’s lining up to just be one long, possibly last session.
Anyway, I just wanted to try something different. Something that I couldn’t just end up getting out of in, like, twenty minutes. I don’t know what it is with me, but even in the strictest of ball-ties or hogties, I can squirm and inch to the key and get right out. And having the key in ice doesn’t really help much. It just adds time. Not suspense. Not adrenaline. Not that awesome fucking rush of whether or not I’m actually going to be able to squeeze out of this one!
I’m getting sick of that feeling by now.
So I decided what I was going to do.
A chair. I was going to completely secure myself to a chair. That’s something I haven’t done too much of, and it’s always really turned me on. I mean, there’s just something so much more restrictive to me about the frame that I can’t move from, keeping me seated the way it wants, and how I can’t move easily. Just one stiff leg of the chair crawls forward with even the strongest thrust of my body.
And I decided I wasn’t going to use rope. I’m simply not good at the wrist coils and cinch nooses with rope, and I always somehow have enough slack, no matter how small I make the coil or how tight the noose is, to slip one hand out. Pisses me off every time!
So, handcuffs was the way to go. Thing with handcuffs is that in order to get out of them...you kinda need a key. I’d cuffed myself to the chair a dozen times, but never that thoroughly, and always the cheap way out, meaning that the key was on a string and the string was around my wrist. So, essentially, the key never left me.
Not this time.
Bright idea, Jay.
I figured it’s the perfect plan.
It doesn’t rely on timing, like the melting ice. And it won’t be anywhere near as easy as the hogties or anything.
The idea is for the handcuff key to be on a rope (a thin hope, of course, but not string) and for the rope to be tied to the side of the bedframe along the wall. That way, the key simply waits on the bed for me. I, meanwhile, have to get from one side of the room (good size, being about 40 ft), turn the chair around just right, and reach and get the key, all while completely blindfolded.
My hand’s starting to really go numb...
And anyway, the key being attached to the rope would be to stop it from
falling off the bed and down to the floor, where I can’t damn well get
So I took an old rope, one that’s a little too thick and stiff to use to tie with (my preference) and put the rope right through the metal loop on the handcuff key, pass it around the bedframe, and tie it to itself. I put the knot end on this side of the bed along with the key, so it’s a bit easier to find.
Then, I went for the good stuff.
Starting with the feet, of course. I put each foot on one of the chair legs and got my two thick leather belts. I’m talking thick, too. And they’re the ones that you can adjust all the way to the buckle, with two metal studs that you stick through holes all along the way. Real industrial strength shit.
One around each ankle, tight and secure. No way my feet are sliding out.
Though right about now, that’d be nice.
Next came the first dumb move.
I had gotten my hands on some CAUTION tape and wanted to try it out here, since it wouldn’t rip out my leg hairs like real tape since it doesn’t stick, and it would give that great feeling of true entrapment of the legs. I wound it, very tight, very well layered, up each leg to the knee. Looking down and seeing nothing but yellow and black all down the chair legs was a real fucking turn on, let me tell you.
After that came my personal favorite part. And right now the one that
really hurts the most.
I don’t have a real ballgag. Yet. I fully intend on buying one next chance I get.
I did find a blue raquetteball in my garage though. Unused. I figured it’d be cool to try out. Unfortunately it was a little small and when I taped it into my mouth a few times before, it really slid down and irritated my uvula. So, I put a piece of cloth behind it this time. Figured that would put the cloth on my uvula instead, which wouldn’t be so bad. About ten winds of duct tape around the head later, and four under my chin to hold my jaw clenched as shut as it would get, I was already starting to feel it. I decided I better finish quick before I just orgasm.
My jaw is killing me so God damn much...
I almost got it...
So then I went for the torso coils. Two of them.
I put them around my arms and the chair, knowing that it’s obviously more restrictive to have your arms tied to your body along with something else.
I slipped the one that I would use for my upper arms on first. It was kinda loose, but it was meant to be. Because I then took one of the two shoelaces that was on my lap and threaded it under my armpit and above the rope, bringing it all the way to over the rope on the back side of the chair. This basically let the shoestring just hang there, balancing on the rope that was around my arms and the chair. I took one end and looped it around a second time, then pulled it tight. The cinch that this caused on the rope was incredible, pulling my shoulder and arm right to the back of the chair, tight. A quick knot later, I did the same to the other arm.
I can only wonder how bruised the shoulders are gonna be tomorrow.
If I’m free tomorrow.
If I’m ever fucking free...
With limited movement now, I got the rest of the stuff ready. I had the following on my lap still: another torso coil, two more belts (I enjoy belts), a headband, a cloth, and a ballpoint pen. If you’re wondering where the handcuffs are, they’re behind me on the chair, attached by a small rope that winds through the chains and is tied to the back rung of the chair. They have enough slack to let me reach up a little bit, to get the key, but no more than that.
Might as well get the blindfold ready while I can move most of my arms.
I reached up and slid on the headband around my forehead. I found that the thick felt band was a lot more comfortable on my eyes, as well as more restricting of vision, than just a cloth. I loosely put the cloth around it and loosely tied it in the back, ready to bring it down on my eyes and tighten it.
Next comes the stomach and thighs. A belt around both hold both my lower back to the chair and my upper legs down.
I almost fucking have you!
If that wasn’t an indication, my gag is quite thorough. I tested it
a few times in playful yelling, and I knew it would stop those.
I never really cut loose into a gag until...I’m almost there...
Anyway, I then put the other torso rope around me. This one went lower, more around my arms at just above the elbows. It was the same procedure though. I used the ends of the shoelaces I cinched the first rope with to cinch this one. I figure if I could see it, it’d look better not to just have loose ends flying all over the place.
That’s the arms. Take a huge sigh. This is it, buddy.
Reach up, pull down the blindfold. Tighten. Knot it. It ain’t coming off.
Find the pen in my lap. There it is.
Bring it back with my hands, through the slots on the back of the chair.
That takes more effort that you’d guess, with my arms tied right to the back like this.
And...there were the cuffs. Right where I’d left them. I went through a quick mental check. The key was tied to the bed via the rope. I remember clearly everything about that. Mom and Dad are gone for a whole week. They’ve been out of the house for fourteen hours now, so it’s safe to assume that they’re not gonna pop in and say they forgot something. All the doors and windows are locked-
Right about now I wish that wasn’t the case.
-and nobody is expected to be coming over, calling, or checking in.
Not to mention the shades in this room are drawn and closed.
Click, click, click, and a lot more clicks on the left hand. I always close the left hand all the way. Use my right to take the pen and find the double-lock hole and push it in. I’d hate the idea of these things tightening more on me while I can’t do anything about it.
Put the pen in my left hand, and this is it. I’ve never been this fucking helpless before in my life. I’ve never been completely tied up, handcuffed, blindfolded, gagged, and not to mention in a chair, all by myself, and not able to even tell which direction I’m facing, and I’m on the other fucking side of the room from my only escape and I don’t even know if I am able to get over there by thrusting my body because I chose to do everything so thorough-CLICK!
...and it’s that simple.
Wasn’t it that simple, dumbass?
Nope. Had to do more. I didn’t want a chance of slipping my hand out. Clickclickclickclickclickclickittyclick! There. Reach to the hole, double lock, and drop the pen. And that, as they say, is that.
I just sat and enjoyed it for about...oh...I’d guess twenty minutes.
I actually have no clue how long it was since I CAN’T SEE THE FUCKING CLOCK!
That’s gag-gibberish for “great thinking.”
I’d add “motherfucker,” but that hurt my jaw enough.
To put it simply, I can only say that it took me for-fucking-ever to
get over here, to the bed.
I’d put a rough guess on it being close to six hours. But, again, I cannot see.
So I’m gonna say it was six hours. Cuz it sure as hell felt like a week.
I wonder if Mom and Dad are gonna come in the door right this second.
But no such luck of course. It hasn’t been a week. You know how I know that?
I’m not dead of starvation! Yet.
So I get to the bed. Takes another ten minutes, I’d say, to turn the
right way so my hands are facing the bed.
Takes another ten minutes to find the rope that the key is on. Find it, now find the knot.
I got good news and bad news, buddy. The good news is, the key is definitely on the rope. I know because I had put the rope through the key hole twice, to avoid it slipping and going anywhere.
The bad news is...well...that bad rope you used. You see, Jay...it was stiff, that’s for sure. Stiff to the point where it ain’t gonna hold a knot too well. Maybe for ten minutes. But after about six hours, the mother’s gonna want to straighten and when you come along, clumsy as a tied up and handcuffed buffoon.
To make a long story short, I untied the knot. I accidentally untied the fucking knot, and the weight of the key caused the rope to fall off the bed.
One good thing, though, is I somehow, by some miracle of God, caught
the end of the rope with my hands before it fell completely off to my doom.
So now what am I doing, you ask?
Well, I found out that my gag works a little too God damned well. Found out that while I could always push the ball out with my tongue, even through the tape, I can’t damn well do that when I got a piece of cloth behind the ball, holding my tongue down!
Not to mention the windows are all shut and locked. So nobody outside, even right outside, is going to hear me mppppppphhhhing up a storm. Believe me. It took me about two hours of trying to yell my hardest, finally putting everything into a gag, to discover that they really do work like a charm at keeping someone quiet.
Can’t slip my hand out of the cuff either, can I?
Can’t see a God damned thing to know how far up the rope I’ve come, or even if the key is still on the rope.
DON’T THINK THAT! Of course the fucking key is still on the rope. I just have to keep inching my way up, little by little. Hold it tight for dear life with one hand while the other lets go and reaches literally a half an inch closer to the key. Repeat this process a couple thousand times and maybe, just maybe, I’ll get out of this fucking mess...