Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

My True Stupid Story

by Nimrod

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© Copyright 2001 - Nimrod - Used by permission

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This is my story as I posted it on one of those yahoo boards.  I'm not sure if you even would put something like this on your site, but maybe someone else could learn from it.  If that's the case, then I'm all for posting it.  Please let me know if you do.
I'm not the best story writer, so bear with me.  This is all true, unfortunately.  I hate that it happened, and wish I could forget it, but at least I won't make that mistake again.  Here goes...

My old girlfriend got me into this.  We broke up and were still good friends, but not good enough for her to help a friend out by tying me up.  Instead, she went and told her new boyfriend about how I asked her.  How rude!  Anyway, some guy, her, and I shared a big house in an urban neighborhood.  The other guy was away all weekend, and my ex-girlfriend was at work and wouldn't be home for about 6 hours or so.  A few days prior, my ex-girl went camping and I was helping her unload some stuff when I noticed this bundle of thick nylon rope she used for a tent.  She picked it up and said, "Check this out. I bet you could have some wild fantasies with this, eh??"  I told her she was sick. (I always told her that sorta kiddingly.  But look who's talking!) Anyway, she's at work and I have some time, some nice rope, and a need to be tied.

The basement had some rafters in the ceiling, so my plan was to tie my hands and feet, and tie them to the rafters while sitting on a chair, hop off, hang out and have fun, then hop back on the chair and get out.  Sounds real stupid, but this is before I was on the net and found all of the self-bondage resources out there and safety issues and cardinal rules, like have a backup and leave yourself an out! I even made sure to lock all of the outside doors and cover up the basement windows, so I wouldn't be seen.

There I was, had my stool, some rope, and the rafters.  I tied my ankles, then my knees, and then used the rest to go over a rafter and down to slip loops around my wrists (in front of me).  I was still fully clothed as I like to be.  I got everything semi-snugged up and thought it was okay to slide off of the bar stool.  I slid off and in the process of hanging and swinging off of it, I knocked over the barstool! 

Well, the fun was, needless to say, very short lived as I realized getting back onto the stool or somehow getting the tension off of my wrists and knees was priority one.  When the stool fell, it rolled over, so I couldn't even rest on the legs of it.  Trying to grab it with my mouth was a futile effort.  I tried to jerk on the rafter too, but it wasn't breaking.  There was a lot of tension on my knees and wrists, so trying to undo the loops from my wrists was my last hope.  By this time, my left hand was so numb that I couldn't even move my fingers, and they were just curling into a fist.  My right hand was semi-numb and in no position to make any progress whatsoever on the ropes.

Then reality set in.  I couldn't believe that it was possible to tie oneself up in such a way that oneself couldn't get back out of it.  I promised I'd never do anything like this again if I could just get out of this (meaning suspension solo-bondage).  I knew my old girlfriend wouldn't be home for 5 hours or so.  My feet were numb from the rope's tension around my knees.   I thought about how the tissue in my feet and hands would really die if I didn't get some circulation back to them soon.  I pondered how life would be without any hands or feet.  Then I just pondered how I'd kill myself because I couldn't go through life like that.  I'd think people that knew me would understand.

However, there was one last hope, but one I took steps to avoid: help from a neighbor?  I started yelling for help and in the back of my mind I hoped nobody would hear me to save the embarrassment.  Then I'd think about my hands and feet and yell even louder.  It seemed like forever yelling, probably about 15 minutes worth, before I heard the voice at the covered basement window of the lady next door.  She asked what was wrong and I told her "I'm stuck!"

That was enough to know I figured.  I was hoping she'd bust into the house and cut me loose, but I wouldn't get off that lightly.  I didn't hear her voice for a few minutes and when I did again, she said she called the police.  I thought, "This is getting worse, not better!"  The way my hands and feet felt (or didn't) I cared less and less who it was that cut me loose.  I told her to tell them to hurry.  Police got there and tried to look in the window.

I was glad I covered it; because a few less people didn't see the predicament I had gotten myself into.  They asked what was wrong, and I told them I was stuck and to break in.  I heard the lady telling them how I had been calling for help for a while now.  Ug!  They asked if any doors or windows were open, but thorough me made sure there wasn't.  So, finally, I heard the glass breaking in the back door.   Release, in whatever form, was near.  Then the basement door opened and I looked up.  Things were still getting worse instead of better.  Two police officers and two paramedics came down, looked at me and just paused.

I'm not sure if anyone of you all out there can comprehend the utter humiliation I felt at that point in time.   Tell me I'm wrong??   I think I would have rather been dead than actually endure this particular point in time.

They asked who did this, and I told them nobody and to get a knife from the kitchen and cut me down.  One of them had one and cut the ropes holding me up.  I plopped down and gasped.  A paramedic asked me if I was having heart palpitations or something.  I told her no and the police cut off the rest of the rope.  That usual feeling of release when you normally get ropes off of you was not there, my hands and feet felt the same, not good.  The next hour is a blur.  I guess I was successful in blocking out some parts of that fateful night.  More or less asking me who the hell really did that to me and if I could feel my extremities at all.  They wanted to take me to the local hospital and wouldn't take no for an answer, so I went with them.  When I got out front, there were like 2 or 3 police cars, two fire trucks, and two ambulances, let alone dozens of local neighbors wondering what the hell is going on.

Anyone just try and picture yourself in this situation.  You can't, can you???

(writing this is very painful.  I hate thinking about it.  BTW: this all took place 2 1/2 years ago)

At this point, my left foot was very tingly, my right was numb and I had no strength to pivot my foot up when you walk, aka "foot droop".  My right hand was very tingly, and my left was numb, but I could wiggle my fingers a little.

In the hospital room, a nurse put some bandages on two brush burns on my left wrist, which were the only marks I had on me.  Not before the police insisting on taking a couple of pictures for the "investigation" because there's no way in hell that anyone could have done that to themselves, right??  I told them nobody did, but they told me the detective would talk to me later.  The doctor there told me I had some moderate anaproxim or something, basically nerve damage.  He said they'd get better, but in more time than I'd want.  I didn't know how long. 

An hour-long talk with this detective followed.  He gave me the third degree.  I told him I did this alone and wanted to try some kind of whacked Houdini escape trick thing that didn't work and how it was my old girlfriend that first inspired me.  He didn't buy it.  He told me he thought I was some kind of rope-loving freak and let someone else do this to me that left me hanging, quite literally.  I told him that was my story and I was sticking to it, so he said I'm full of shit and that he'd call my old
girlfriend to see if my story was similar to what she'd give him, so I had better talk to her about it later.

He gave me a ride home and said this was going into an "incident report". It's not like I'm a criminal or anything, so as long as it remained like that I didn't care.   The police stayed in the house the whole time because of the busted back door window, and they eventually left.  I did thank the paramedics for coming and getting me out of that mess.  The one thing I was thankful for.   They dumped every trashcan and looked through the house while I was gone looking for anything suspicious or drugs or something.  I bet they'd think anyone that this would happen to must be on drugs, right?  Makes sense to me.  Maybe someone spiked my drink?  I mean, what the hell is wrong with me?  They even took the cut up rope as evidence in case something surfaced.

Ug...   What a night of hell.  I called my old girlfriend to tell her before that detective talked to her.  I told her the story and she said, "You have GOT to be shitting me!!"  I told her unfortunately that I wasn't and that this stupid detective might call her, so don't be surprised.  Basically, she said, "What the fuck??  We'll talk about this when I get home if you're still there and free..."    Ug... I cleaned up the broken glass and went to sleep.

After all of that, that detective never called her.  Nobody said anything, except for a couple of neighbors coming by a couple of days later and asking if things came out ok or what happened.  I told them it wasn't me but my other housemate that got stuck on a nail or something and didn't want to talk about it.  They said, "Oh, um... Ok... Well, take care..."

I went to a neurologist and found out that I pinched a nerve at my knee and that's why my foot was still numb.  Nerves regrow about 1" a month, so he said it would be a while.  I had this "nerve conduction study" done for my foot and one hand.  That's where they drive high voltage and then high voltage electrified needles into your nerves at both ends and they told me it showed about 70% damage to the nerves occurred.   To make a longer story not so long, I recovered after a month much to the surprise of the neurologist and then I could run again.  All that remains today is two scars on my wrist from the rope burns as a reminder, like I could really forget.

What did my old girlfriend do?  She told her boyfriend!  He didn't think I was warped or anything, not like he was into it, but that it sounded like a dumb thing to do.  She continues to give me shit about the whole incident and her boyfriend comments on how she never lets a sleeping dog lie. Since then, thanks to the Internet, I've educated myself on self-bondage stuff and do it safely.  I've kept my promise of no more solo suspension.  If only I had been to Gromet's site before, this would have never happened, but I'm thankful for the information I've learned here.

I've only read one other true story that was worse, as far as humiliation goes, than mine.  It was from some poor girl "Lara" from Gromet's page that I, if anyone, can sympathize with.

Now, wasn't that a really stupid thing to do?  How naive I was.   Maybe I'm really not warped and it never really happened after all...

 - Nimrod


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