By surfbot

Author’s note: This is not a story, it is a true and accurate report of how I spent four interesting days last week. Ever since reading a book in which the hero gets kidnapped and handcuffed naked to a tree, I have wanted to try that myself. (Dick Francis, _The_Danger_; yes, this is a mainstream mystery novel.)

Monday

As usual, my camping trip starts with loading gear onto my bicycle and riding to the campground. This time it is 48 pounds of gear and 70 miles — a fine day’s ride. Remarkably, I had a strong favorable wind and made excellent time. This is the Midwest and wind is usually more important than hills.

I had to reserve a campsite in advance; in midweek there are many to choose from, and the one I chose had no neighbors when I selected it. When I arrived there was a couple set up next door, very close; but they were leaving a day before me, so I’d just have to wait.

As planned, as soon as I got my tent up, I went inside and installed my chastity device — it would not come off until I left for home. This is a stainless steel ball-trapping device from Mr. S that is similar to “the curve,” but has a rod that extends up the tube with a “keeper” that encircles the penis and prevents pullout. I have found I cannot wear it for a long bike ride, so I had to bring it separately, with keys.

At sundown I took a shower and retired. As usual when camping alone I slept naked, in chastity, leg cuffs and handcuffs. My summer-weight sleeping bag proved inadequate, and in the middle of the night I had to remove the cuffs, put on Under Armour tights and top, and re-apply the cuffs. This is a backpacking tent, and I cannot sit fully upright, so changing clothes is an effort.

 

Tuesday

 

With close neighbors I could not walk around camp in cuffs, so I removed them and cooked mac & cheese for breakfast (the backpacker’s friend — the size and weight of freeze-dried without the cost). I then dressed in running clothes (short-shorts, jockstrap, synthetic T-shirt, hat, waist pack with snacks and a water bottle) and went jogging/hiking in the state park. That is, when the trail is easy I jog, and when it isn’t I hike. I am used to doing this while wearing my chastity device (jockstrap is essential), and don’t even notice it. I ended up about 50/50 jog/hike, for a total of about 12 miles, with more altitude gain than usual in the Midwest, as there are 120-foot-deep canyons here. I showered just before bed, and slept in Under Armour and cuffs.

 

Wednesday

 

The day was a duplicate of Tuesday, except I went on different trails and ended up 60/40 jog/hike for a total of 9 miles. My neighbors had left in the morning.

At sundown I went into my tent, stripped, and applied the hand- and leg-cuffs, I had to wait until the group across the road went to sleep, so I read for a while by flashlight (awkward in handcuffs when you cannot sit up). An hour later they had quieted down, so I finished my preparations: two handcuff keys tied to each end of a 3-foot cord, with the middle tied securely to the links between the handcuffs. I got out of the tent, removed my cuffs, and sprayed mosquito repellant from head to toe (something our literary hero lacked; he also lacked my chastity device and the leg cuffs). I then re-applied the cuffs with my hands behind my back. I walked around for a while, the gravel digging into my bare feet and the chain rattling quietly. I pissed at the edge of the campsite, not wanting to make mud by the tree.

It’s time. So I unlocked one handcuff (ensuring I could do so in back), leaned back against the tree I had selected, and re-cuffed my arms around it behind me, careful to double lock. This tree is about 6 inches in diameter, and a bit rough to the skin; it rises straight for almost ten feet before branching — perfect. I am solidly locked to it and am not going anywhere. There was faint light from distant campsites and the sky, and my body was the most visible thing in view, everything nearby was dark and more sensed than seen. Through a small gap in the trees I could see a few stars. Some walkers went by on the road, seen only by their flashlights. All is quiet except the crickets.

Then something scary happened — the campers across the road came out of their tent and turned on their car’s headlights. I was definitely in the beam, about 100 yards away, and clearly visible if they happened to look. I froze, knowing that movement attracts the eye. I was almost facing them, and closed my eyes so they would not reflect back and give them something to investigate. With my hands away from them, I fumbled with a key and put it into the keyhole, but decided to wait — my tent was in shadow, and if they came my way I could unlock and retreat to it very quickly, while moving would just attract their eyes to me. They turned off the headlights and went back into their tent; I removed the key, remaining locked while my breathing returned to normal.

Standing there, I could tell I would not be spending the night out here, as it was too cold for that, but an hour or two would be OK. I could circle the tree, taking care not to rattle the leg chain too loudly. Obviously there is not a lot to do.

Sitting down turned out to be easy, with only minor roughness on my back. The ground was cold on my bare legs and ass. I could lean forward and a bit to the side, but my motions were highly restricted by my arms cuffed in back around the tree. I found I could lie down by shuffling along the ground and twisting so my elbow was around the tree. My entire body and face could rest on the ground, tilted a bit sideways, but there was considerable strain on my arms and wrists; I don’t think I could sleep this way. I sat back up, which turned out to be easier to say than to do; it would have been much easier without the leg cuffs, and this became an athletic move, but I made it.

While sitting there savoring the moment, a spider climbed up my arm, tickling as it went (another thing our literary hero lacked). My ability to wiggle and dislodge it was quite limited by the handcuffs and tree. It crossed my chest and climbed up my shoulder. When it went behind my neck I was able to crush it against the tree and felt it fall down.

Standing up proved to be very difficult. At first while sitting straight I tried pulling my feet closer to the tree, with my heels under my ass. This did not work, because I had to put too much pressure from my back on the tree, and could not slide upward at all. I could not lean forward enough to get my feet under my body. The handcuffs were too constraining and the tree was too big to get my hands around it to grab and relieve pressure on my back. But I was able to slide sideways, bring my knees close to my body and the tree, and gradually twist around into a kneeling position with the tree inside my elbow at my side. This was another athletic move that would have been easier without the leg cuffs. From there standing up was easy. This maneuver rotated me almost halfway around the tree.

Standing there, when I was about to start to shiver I decided it was time to go in, and unlocked myself from the tree. Before entering the tent I removed all the cuffs and put on my Under Armour. My cellphone showed I had been out there for two and a quarter hours. As I needed a good sleep for the ride home tomorrow, I slept without cuffs, but still in chastity.

 

Thursday

 

I decided to risk wearing the cuffs for a while, so I put them on to pack up. It was early and the campground was quiet, but I kept a sharp lookout on the road. It is difficult but not impossible to roll up a sleeping bag and a tent while wearing handcuffs. I got the bike all packed before removing the cuffs and chastity, and changing into bicycle clothes. As I had no breakfast, I took a longer route home that went through a nearby town where I could eat; the day totaled 75 miles — another good ride.

 

So my trip happened just as I had planned: four high-calorie days and three self-bondage nights.

 

Metal would like to thank Surfbot for this story!