By Marknorth

I thought I would share my personal best bondage story and self-bondage technique. Here’s the problem: I live in a rural area and there aren’t too many bondage buddies to be found, making it difficult to be kept as a prisoner on a regular basis. Well, self-bondage is the only option. I am, however, continually frustrated by the fact that I do need to be able to get out of the bonds; making the “scene” somewhat less than “real” for me.

It seems that no matter what I came up with there was always a way to get out earlier than I really would want. As is common, once I cum I usually want the scene to be over — with most of the tricks of self-bondage there is usually a “safe way out” just in case. Knowing that lessens the fun for me.

 

[[Warning: self-bondage is dangerous. Be sure you have an exit strategy in place before attempting something like this.]]

 

I have tried other self-bondage tricks, but I just never feel that I am truly detained. There is, of course, the fact that I do eventually need to get out!

So, what’s a bondage slave to do to heighten the reality of self-bondage?

The solution: This certainly isn’t an original idea as I have seen it referenced by others, but I have cobbled together a relatively inexpensive electronic timer that controls an electromagnet — it acts as my “key holder,” placed well out of reach. All of the components are hardware store finds. The programmable timer is actually one used for outdoor lights (i.e., Christmas lights, spotlights, etc.) and the electromagnet is the kind that is used to hold doors open in public buildings. It runs on 120 volts and shuts off as soon as the power is cut. Wiring the timer to the electromagnet is a snap — I used an electrical box that I had laying around to mount the electromagnet and timer to and mounted the whole contraption between the joists in an unfinished area of my lower level. Before I play, I put any ladders, step stools, etc., in a locking storage room so that I cannot get to the keys, and I typically lock my ankles pretty close together so that climbing on something would be tough anyway.

The timer has numerous settings — so there are plenty of options. The timer can be set to shut off at the same time every day (24 hours), shut off in 1 to 8 hours, or shut off in a random amount of time.

As mentioned above, the need to make the scene more realistic means that I do not leave myself an out; once the timer is set and the keys are hanging there I am “stuck.” I do not recommend this for anyone, but it works for me! The only safety factors I use are never locking myself to anything fixed (well, more on that later) and I do not lock my hands behind my back — so I could always shuffle over to the neighbors if needed!

The set-up: The first time I used this set-up I wanted it to last for quite awhile, but was a little cautious, so I set the timer to release in 4 hours. I set out all of the locks (unlocked), restraints, etc., and lock all of the keys in a lockbox — the key to unlock the box is on the electromagnet out of reach.

I love leather restraints so I locked on wrist and ankle restraints, connected a short chain between the ankles (just enough to allow a slow shuffle ) .  I have a comfortable leather hood (only nose holes) that I pulled on and locked (before I chickened out — remember no keys to the locks are accessible . )  I connected a length of chain from the ankle chain to the D-ring on the collar of the hood and locked the wrist cuffs to that chain. I was locked in for the duration! I don’t know how long it was before I couldn’t help myself and jacked off — I was so hard from being really stuck in bondage. Afterward, though, I had no way to free myself and the frustration mounted. The hood was restrictive and the chains made even little movements tough — in other words, I was at the mercy of that damned timer! Four hours passed in what seemed like 10 hours, but I eventually was freed. It was great!

I use it all the time now by myself and have recently had it used on me. A buddy of mine visited for a few days — he’s into bondage, so we had a lot of fun together. I showed him the timer and told him that when he left he should lock me up and set it to whatever time he wanted up to eight hours. He was leaving on a Friday afternoon, so I had the whole weekend ahead of me.

I let him pick the gear — a one-piece leather motorcycle racing suit that fits like a glove and he used the most severe hood that I have (it’s a sensory deprivation hood with three sets of locking straps, a locking collar, and a small grommet mouth) and strapped it on pretty damn tight. When it was locked on I could barely mumble and the straps were tight enough to limit my hearing quite a bit. He used the leather ankle restraints, but locked them together with a large lock that he also attached a chain up to the collar of the hood. My wrists were locked together with a short length of chain that was locked to the vertical chain at waist level. I could shuffle slowly, reach my dick (so I could at least piss), and that was about it. He used the chain on the collar to pull me around the basement to get me heated up and he kept playing with my dick to keep me hard as hell. It was, however, time for him to leave.

He led me back to where I had an old cot (so I had somewhere to rest) and let me know that there were several bottles of water and a straw there (the straw fits through the grommet in the hood). I could barely hear him through the hood, but he said he had to go. He said, loudly enough: “You are definitely one screwed boy now. I set the timer like you wanted, but I didn’t think it fair to leave you for eight hours. So I set it for 24 — have fun fucker!” And he pushed me down on the cot.

Through the hood I really didn’t hear him leave, but I knew he had gone after a while. I knew he was kidding about the timer to mess with me, but as time went on I started to really wonder if he had been serious. I don’t know how long it took for the hood to start to become uncomfortable, but the more I thought about it the worse it got. My jaw was held pretty tightly closed and couldn’t hear anything, the straps held it tight to my head so it was very warm. I had no concept of the passage of time, the more uncomfortable I became the harder I seemed to get — I tried to rest, maybe I slept, I shuffled around to the bathroom. I couldn’t climb the stairs if I wanted to — I really was screwed. What if he really didn’t set the timer and didn’t leave a key at all? I panicked several times and had to force myself to calm down, as it was hard to breathe in the hood. It became apparent that I had to trust that he did set the timer (he was a buddy, after all), but the bastard definitely set it for 24 hours. I was alone and helpless — but I guess I got what I had wanted.

I had never spent that much time in bondage. The timer was for 24 hours, and I eventually found the key on the floor and was able to let myself out. My jaw was aching, my head hurt, my wrists and ankles were sore, but I was still hard as hell! The bastard did call the next day to make sure that I was out and laughed his ass off at the predicament he left me in — I threatened revenge, but I knew it wouldn’t happen, as I was the slave boy who wanted what he got.

I am trying to build up the courage to lock myself in again for another 24 hour stint — maybe this weekend?