© Copyright 2002 - Prof Challenger - Used by permission
So, there I was, lying in the grass, hogtied, gagged, and staked to the ground. As I peered through the darkness, I saw a slender white shape approaching--a shape that I knew carried a large and very sharp knife--.
Yikes! How had I gotten myself into this one? For, make no mistake, like all good self-bondagers, I was entirely responsible for what was happening to me.
The adventure had begun with some of my slightly tamer outdoor bondage experiments. I had bought a dog-stake--the kind of thing that is a metal stake that you pound or screw into the ground that has a flexible loop on top to clip a steel cable dog-lead to, so a dog can move around but won't get wound up in the lead.
I had put the stake into the firm clay soil of our back yard in such a place that, with the lead shortened up to eight feet or so, whoever or whatever was tethered could walk in a circle, but one without any cover or hiding place. I doubled up the fifteen foot lead that came with the stake, looped it through the stake, and would clip the ends to a sturdy collar. Once my hands were cuffed behind me, I was staked out until my hands were freed.
In warm weather I had experimented with this in a number of configurations--standing, kneeling, gagged or not, with or without harnesses. One that turned me on immensely was tethering myself by a short cord that ran from my collar to a locked cock-and-ball strap. This lead me to a further speculation. what if one had a ring in one's nose? I went to a local piercing shop and had my septum pierced (rather surprising the staff that such a straight looking fellow would want this), and tried it. Just the weight of the cord dangling from a place that normally never experienced any sensation of weight was very unusual. And very effective as bondage, as well!
Then there was the next step. I had been intrigued by penis piercings for chastity and bondage for some time, and decided I had to get a "Prince Albert". I got one in the fall so that by warm weather it would be well healed. The story of the piercing and my indoor experiments can be discussed another time, but suffice to say the bondage possibilities are endless!
Now, I had a warm dry night and I was ready to fulfill what had become a long-standing fantasy. Compared with a lot of my bondages, the preparations were quite simple. I took my favorite handcuffs and a pair of steel ankle shackles. I looped the center of a piece of nylon parachute cord through the chainlinks nearest the shackles, pulled them together, and knotted it, so that there was no slack between the shackles. I then left about a foot of slack before running it through the hinges of the handcuffs and tying it off so that I wouldn't be able to reach the knots once my hands were cuffed.
I put on a harness gag that buckled tightly around my head, and took another piece of parachute cord and tied it to my nose ring (normally I wear a "keeper" that is not visible to others), leaving about four feet of cord dangling. Thus prepared, and carrying the cuffs assembly, I went out into the dark yard. We have fences and hedges that screen us from our neighbor's vision, but it is still a thrill to be out naked in the night.
I knelt down with the loop of the dog stake between my knees, reached back, and cuffed my ankles. Then, I looped the cord from my nose ring through the dog stake and back up to my Prince Albert, where I tied it off firmly (but with care). I had just enough slack to remain in a kneeling position. After testing the knots, I put my hands behind me and locked the handcuffs snugly on my wrists.
I was now tied and cuffed in a kneeling hogtie position, naked and gagged under the open sky, and tethered in place by my nose and penis. I tried inching away from the stake, but an immediate firm resistance to both of the sensitive areas let me know that my tie-down scheme was effective. I was not going anywhere.
After a period of time, as I knew would happen, my knees got tired from kneeling on the ground. In episodes past, I had been able to shift my feet to one side and my body to the other and end up sitting on the ground with my knees bent to the side. This was what I now attempted.
Well, there's always something unexpected that happens in thse bondage sessions, isn't there? Something about this set-up--either the shortness of the cord between the wrists and ankles, or the position I was in putting me off balance, caused me to topple (fortunately slowly) entirely over onto my left side.
Now, previously, this would not have been a problem, as I'm a fairly
flexible guy, and would be able to push myself upright again by bending
my body and getting my legs back under me. But, guess what? When one is
tautly teathered to a stake in the ground by one's nose and penis, there
is no thrashing around to be done! All I could do was lie there with half
my face in the
grass. I managed to twitch myself into a reasonably comfortable position that nevertheless put a gentle but insistent tension on my "attachment points"--and settled in to enjoy the experience.
By now, you will surely have noticed that I haven't described any of the usual escape methods. This is because the one I use doesn't require any setup. My wonderful partner, who indulges me in these and other games, is my release. She was in the house getting ready for bed, reading a chapter of her novel, and glancing out at me occasionally. When she decided it was time to go to bed, she took her knife in hand (a very sharp tanto knife) and came out to me. It was her form, her nightgown pale in the dimness that I saw approaching me.
She stopped near me and surveyed my situation. "Are you all right?" she asked. I nodded. "Can you get up?" I shook my head and wiggled to indicate I could not. "Well, you've gotten yourself in a bit deeper than you planned, haven't you?" This was largely a retorical question as she swooped down on my helpless body. I could only gasp and writhe as she teased, tickled, scratched and tweaked my thighs, sides, chest, and genitals. She oh-so-carefully caressed tender parts of me with the dull edge of the wicked knife. I knew this wouldn't last long due to my partner's reluctance to crouch in the grass, but it did serve to underscore mu utterly helpless vulnerability.
(OK, I was pretty vulnerable before, but being able to kneel erect and look around gives some illusion of control--).
Eventually, she moved behind me, grasped the cord connecting my cuffs,
and cut it. I didn't yet try to rise as I was still bound to the stake.
She moved back to the front and slowly and "carefully" sawed through the
teather, taking, I am sure, wicked pleasure in the vibrations transmitted
along the taut cord. Then, she assisted me to stand. She took the cut end
dangling from the Prince Albert in her clenched fist, and used it to lead
me back to the house and --eventual-- freedom.