© Copyright 2005 - Professor Challenger. - Used by permission
Storycodes: Sbm; D/s; caged; cons; X
Since acquiring the cage, the months that followed saw progressively more elaborate iterations of bondage associated with the cage. I did in fact get my nipples pierced, and found a twelve-gauge straight barbell holding a stirrup to be most comfortable and useful. (Note: I also have septum and Prince Albert piercings, which I recommend to anyone seriously into bondage, as the possibilities are endless. I wear a bullet-style keeper in the septum for every-day, and it is undetectable.)
For one of my most elaborate exercises, I had made some minor additions to the cage. I hung a six-foot chain from the top of the cage at the rear, which made a convenient series of attachment points. I also hung a shorter chain from the top front edge, and made additional attachment points in the doors and sides by the simple expedient of tightening on small c-clamps, which hold tightly enough for my purposes. When I settle on a permanent configuration I will install some eyebolts--.
On a particular warm evening, I had modified my heavy cuffs by adding one-foot spreader bars between the ankles and the wrists. The shackle was locked to the floor of the cage, and the manacle hung from the short chain in front so that it hung just above the bottom of the top door. This was mainly for keeping it handy, although it did add some additional restriction. I also had hung my steel mask from the top center of the cage so that it hung from a convenient height. Again, this was intended mainly for ease in getting into it, but there were desirable secondary effects to be described. I had an open padlock ready hanging on the back chain, and I had used the c-clamps to attach three rubber bands holding light spring clips to the front of the cage, two chest high and one at groin level.
I prepared myself by putting on my chastity arrangement as previously described, and slipped on pants, shirt and sandals. I went out to the garage accompanied by my Mistress, since I would need her help with the final wrist cuff. (For more elaborate scenarios, we have arrived at a sort of “assisted self-bondage”. I design the set-ups and get myself into as much as I can. My Mistress supervises to see that I am safe, and completes any touches I can’t finish myself.)
At the cage, I stripped and handed my clothes to her. I got in, squatted down, and padlocked my ankles into the shackles. As before, the keys were in the house at this time, so I was a prisoner at this point, but of course we went on.
I pulled the lower door closed and padlocked it. Then I gingerly stood up, and closed and locked the middle and upper doors, enclosing myself within the cage. I reached behind myself and hooked the chain padlock into the back of my chastity belt at a taut level. I had tied a loop of cord through my Prince Albert ring to be sure I could get at it through the end slit of the CB-2000, and pulled the ring down so that I could attach the spring-clip to the lower rubber band.
I had draped my leather plug gag through the collar of the mask, and I now took that in hand and applied it snugly, then eased the mask over my head and locked it closed. Only a few more steps.
Next to last, I hooked the clips from the chest-level rubber bands to the stirrups in my nipples. These were the kind of bands that are about six inches long unstretched, and gave a gentle pressure out and down, which intensified somewhat when I raised my arms to thrust my wrists out through the upper door and into the manacles. I closed the padlock on my right wrist, and then put my left one into place as my Mistress closed and locked the final cuff. She looked me up and down, expressed admiration of my inventiveness, and gave me a few teasing strokes through the bars, then gathered up my clothes and left. As she departed, she turned off the garage lights and left the door ajar as we had in the past.
This left me to stew, a more helpless captive than ever before, but capable of substantial self-teasing. The chain behind me pulled my chastity belt taut and forced the butt plug I was wearing into me. If I rocked back to ease that pressure, the rubber band in front applied a surprising amount of tension to my penis, even though it was restrained in the CB-2000. Pushing my hips forward to relax the rubber band of course increased pressure on the butt plug. Any shrugging of my shoulders or movement of my arms or upper body caused the upper rubber bands to tug on my nipples. Further, the rope holding the steel mask to the top of the cage restricted my ability to even turn my head, or look down as much as the mask ever let me. I writhed and struggled as much as the steel, leather and rubber would let me—not much, frankly—testing my bonds.
Finding all secure, I began to settle into subspace, meditating on the patches of dim exterior light on the far wall that were all that I could see, slowly twisting in my bonds to tease myself sensuously, and keeping half an ear on the sound of distant traffic and neighbors coming and going in their own garages and back yards. Could any of them ever suspect what was happening a few yards away? The garage door was open—what if a prowler or burglar were to come in? What would he think? What would he do? There was certainly nothing I could do—I was totally helpless and defenseless. Would such a person abuse me? Flee in confusion? Or tip me a nod as he helped himself to my lawn mower?
Such speculations leaped to mind as I heard a stealthy footfall, which I quickly recognized as that of my Mistress. She did not speak, but approached me quietly in the darkness, stood only breathing for a moment, then reached through the bars and caressed me. My moan of response evidently told her all she needed to know, as she then went to work in earnest, alternating caresses with stokes of various sharp implements worn on her fingers, and the occasional playful pluck of a rubber band. Zing!
By the time she got done working on me, two hours had passed since I got into the cage, and I was more than ready to be let out. One of the items I had been teased with was the key ring, and Mistress unlocked the wrist she had originally locked up, and then stood by as I worked my way loose. The keys to the mask had been left inside, as were my clothes, so I had to follow her into the house blinkered and naked but for the chastity belt to get entirely free. Since it was late, a long shower and bed followed.
“Pure” self-bondage in the cage.
A couple of weeks later, I decided to take another tack, and try a much simpler session in the cage. My Mistress would be working all day, so I would be totally on my own. For this session, I had prepared my Timecuffs (see, “The Timecuff Experiment”) with a filling of water that should have been good for an hour and a half to two hours. About 10AM I went into the garage, and locked one end of the Timecuffs to the ceiling of the cage. I stripped and got into the cage, and locked it. I had with me a pair of standard handcuffs, my key ring, and a length of cord. I tied the cord through the key ring, and tied the cord to the center door of the cage, so the keys could not fall out of reach. I put the keys on the cage floor, locked on the standard handcuffs in front of myself, and then locked the dangling Timecuff around the chain of the handcuffs.
My hands were thus held at about the level of my neck. I was otherwise completely naked, and had not added any other elaborations with which to amuse myself. I have to say, that I found this very simple bondage situation very boring, but then, being a prisoner is boring isn’t it? I concentrated on achieving a meditative state, and effort that was eventually hindered by my tendency to fiddle with the Timecuff plug and the minor irritation of having cold water slowly drip over my hands.
After what seemed to me to be more than an hour and a half, with the Timecuffs not near defrosted enough for escape, I began to worry. There was no doubt that eventually the ice would completely melt, freeing me, but when? My Mistress would be home by 4PM, and I would be in for it, and not in a pleasant S&M way, if she caught me playing by myself and getting stuck. I began considering my situation.
The key ring was tied to the cage door by a cord. The cord reached the cage floor with ample slack. I was able, after a couple of tries, to take the cord in the toes of one foot, and, squatting down, to drape it over the bent knee of my other leg. Then, I carefully lifted the knee up to my chest, and, with the slack that had grown in the partially melted Timecuffs, grasp the cord in my hands and reel in the keys. I blessed the martial arts practice that preserved my flexibility and the fact that I hadn’t decided to wear shackles. Otherwise, I would have had to have a bit longer wait.
I freed myself, dressed and went inside, finding
that indeed it was past noon. I left the Timecuffs dangling and checked
back periodically between other errands, to find that the cuffs had come
apart about 2PM, almost twice as long as anticipated. At this point I don’t
really know if I mismeasured the amount of water used (most likely possibility)
or if the slight temperature differential from the house to the garage
made that much difference, or if something about the vertical as opposed
to horizontal position of the cuffs made a difference. Oh, well—at least
that gives an excuse for—further experiments!