Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

Older But Not Wiser

by James Ellis

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© Copyright 2020 - James Ellis - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbm; rope; hogtie; stuck; cons; X

It was a warm autumn morning and I had the house to myself for the next two days. So after a leisurely breakfast a self-bondage session seemed attractive. As I had plenty of time a bit of rope work seemed appropriate, it would take awhile to apply the bondage and a delayed escape beckoned. As I was alone two backup escapes seemed sensible. So I pre-positioned my sheath knife on the floor in front of the picture window in the lounge, and then a serrated edged knife on the floor in the kitchen.

Next thing what to wear, I considered nothing as it was warm, but didn't have the nerve so settled on a very brief pair of tie sided swim trunks I had bought by mail order. These seemed just right as I was going to do a rope tie. Next I got my ropes out, two long loops of rope for my upper body and arms, two lengths of rope to tie my knees and ankles. My favourite leather insert gag (I can wear this for two or three hours without too much discomfort), a small four strand loop of rope for my wrists and a short length of rope with two rope loops with one-way slip knots.

Next I set up my primary release, using the good old ice release to drop my Swiss army knife to the floor of the hallway, enough ice for two hours. I would be tied in the hall, a long struggle from either of my back ups so that I would be encouraged to wait for the ice. One last check I opened the kitchen window and lounge windows a crack to get a little breeze flowing. Then returning to the hall to start my bondage. 

First I bound my knees and cinched the rope tight, but not too tight as I needed to bend my knees. Next I tied my ankles cinching them good and tight, tying the short rope with the slip knots to the bar. Next I fitted my gag, good and tight and worked the loops for my arms down my chest. It had been a while since I had used these last and I had put on a bit of weight, so I had to struggle hard to get my arms through and pinned to my body. At this point I realised my wrist loops were missing and looking up saw them at the other end of the hallway. Now as I was already sweating from getting my bondage this far I did not fancy struggling free to get them. It occurred to me that the loops on the short rope were large enough to go over both my hands and round my wrists. This would leave the hog-tie tighter than I had planned for but, I thought, I've already taken longer than I planned to bind myself so release was not that far away.

Now after previously getting myself stuck because I added to my bonds after achieving the planned tie, you would have thought I would know better. But the thought became the act and I bent my legs, worked my arms behind me, snagged the loops and worked my wrists into them. A quick jerk of my legs and the knots slipped up tightening the loops around my wrists pinning them securely together. 

That was it my bondage was complete, I was tightly bound and gagged on the hall floor, I tested my bonds, the shortening of my hog-tie rope had made movement difficult but not impossible. The slipknots worked perfectly they would not slide out at all, but they tightened with each jerk of my legs until every bit of slack was gone and my wrists were welded together. This was the tightest I'd ever been bound and as I rocked back and forth on the floor I was getting really stimulated. The blood was pounding in my ears and then I came with massive ejaculation. 

As I drifted back to normality I found myself lying in a sticky pool of my own cum, and decided to wriggle towards where my knife should drop. Now my upper legs were sticky as well. God I didn't want anyone finding me like this, how much longer before the knife drops. I looked up, there still looked to be a lot of ice to melt. I decided to go for the back up knife in the kitchen, inching along I realised that my wrists were really feeling sore and that my fingers were starting to feel numb. Panic set in and I wriggled along with renewed vigour. All was going well and I was almost to the kitchen door, then a sudden gust of wind through the open window caught the door and blew it shut.

By this point the sweat is rolling off me and I am pretty well exhausted, I would have given anything for someone to find me and release me. I lay there breathing raggedly through my nose, debating on whether I can make enough noise to attract attention from a neighbour or passer-by. But I could not here any sounds of life from outside so figured there would be no one to here me. Then I heard a thump; my Swiss army knife had fallen to the floor at the other end of the hall. 

Now I had renewed hope and set about the long wriggle back down the hall. This was slow and painful, inching along on my stomach, the damp material at the front of my briefs and the sticky trail I had left, reminding me of the futile journey. The short hog-tie rope was really making me understand how tough a tie this was when applied for a long time. A couple of inches shorter and I doubted I would have been able to move at all. As it was the journey back seemed to last twice as long as my trip towards the kitchen.

Finally I was alongside the Swiss army knife, now another problem arose, bound as I was there was no way to reach my hands towards it. I would have to roll over on to my side. This proved a lot easier said than done especially as my arms were pinned to my chest. I started to rock from side to side, but with my wrists and ankles tied so closely together, it took me quite a lot of energy and many attempts to build up enough momentum to roll on to my side.

Lady luck continued to be a cruel mistress and I fell on my side with my hands and feet held securely behind my back with my body between them and the knife. I tried to roll back onto my stomach to enable me to roll toward it; I quickly realised that having got onto my side I was going to stay that way as long as my wrists and ankles were joined. By now my energy was nearly spent, My arms and legs were really aching and I would have killed for a drink. I looked up at the hall clock, it was nearly two o'clock, I was getting scared, I had been bound for nearly four hours and my bonds were just as secure as when I had started. 

I rested trying to think of away to attract help, I couldn't reach a phone, and I could barely raise a whimper. I doubted that I had enough energy to attempt to wriggle into the lounge, and even then I doubted if anyone would be able to see me laying on the floor. No the only hope was the knife in front of me on the floor. Now I had to squirm around in circle to be able to reach it. This proved even harder than wriggling along the floor, but finally I managed to touch it with my almost feeling less hand. I fumbled with the knife for what seemed an hour but was probably only five minutes, and finally got a blade open. I sawed at the connecting ropes and first one then the other parted. At last my legs could be straightened, not without some difficulty and considerable pain. 

I lay there gathering my strength and luxuriating in blood flow returning to straightened my still bound legs. The next thing to do would be to get my wrists free, yet another masterstroke from lady luck, my wrists were so tightly bound together I could not get the blade to reach the ropes. I lay back and thought to myself this could be a really long day. I decided to try to get on to my feet. I rolled onto my back and managed to struggle into a sitting position. Then I worked my way to the wall and managed to inch my way up it and onto my feet. I stood there supported by the wall drawing short breaths through my nose, feeling totally wrung out. I looked at the clock, nearly four o'clock; I had been hog-tied nearly six hours. 

I was still securely bound and gagged, but at least I could now hop about, but very carefully as I found that this took a lot of effort and my balance was a bit shaky. Now I had to make a decision, either to go for my sheath knife in the lounge or make my way to the kitchen and get a serrated knife out of a drawer. I decided on the kitchen and slowly made my way there, now I was on my feet the door was no longer an impassable barrier.

By the time I got there I could hardly feel my fingers or hands but some how managed to get a knife and cut the ropes without cutting myself. The circulation returning to my hands was agony and my gag really earned its keep. As the tingling of returning circulation eased in my hands I worked my arms out of the torso ropes and ripped off my gag. Then I sated my thirst, I was really feeling drained and I had to finish freeing myself before I collapsed. Taking the knife I cut off my knee and ankle bonds, dropped the ropes and knife and staggered to the sofa in the lounge where I managed to lay myself down and switch on the TV, before falling into a deep sleep. 

I woke hours later went upstairs for a refreshing shower and then cleaned up the house. I still bore the marks of my marathon bondage session, and thinking of the mistakes I had made that had led to the marathon thought to myself 'you may be getting older, but your not getting wiser.'.



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