By nycstraitjacket

We were 10 weeks into social distancing and working from home, and my mind had started to wander. The solitude is mind numbing and the loss of play time left me kinky and yearning for something to do.

I’m normally a bondage bottom into leather and metal restraints with interests that have veered toward longer term scenes.  I have a collection of leather straitjackets and a sleepsack, but they’re not easy or effective for self bondage. And that’s where my mind was…yearning for that no-way-out head trip, the smell of leather and the feeling of inescapable confinement, which naturally led me to…the Mr S website.

I already have a pretty good collection of their gear – a number of hoods, some heavy irons and restraints. But there I was, horny as hell and staring at one of those things I had tried a number of times and always wanted: the double rigid irons. there were a number of customer reviews that mentioned you could use them for self bondage and there was a video  showing them in action. How I wished I was the captive in those irons as the leather hood was laced on. A few clicks later I was staring at the webpage for the delux tight hood.  I have a number of intense hoods, but none with the open mouth configuration and I saw that it comes with an option to add a zippered panel and lock. A few clicks later I was looking at the front buckle gag, lockable of course, thinking how great they would all go together.

As the night evolved into the early morning hours I began thinking with my “other brain,” found that they had all been added to my wish list and I noticed that I had a credit on account.  There were already a number of other items in the wish list: the leather “sci-fi” hood (a masterpiece – there are a few photos of me in one on my Recon profile), a pair of hinged handcuffs and lockable bondage mits. And so began an internal dialogue between my upper brain and my lower appendage. These are tough times, I should be saving money, is this the best use of my stimulus money?  But the other brain was rock hard dripping pre-cum so there was no contest, and I started to sort through the items in my wish list.  The rational part of my brain noted that I already had plenty of cuffs and pointed out that the irons, hood and gag really did go together and there was a credit to be used after all. This was close enough to consensus for the lower brain and the next thing I knew an order had been placed, I jerked off, and went to bed.  In the morning I started my commute back to the couch for wfh.

Those of us living in Manhattan are just getting to Phase 1 of re-opening, and phase 2 is probably only a few weeks away. My boss was looking for someone who could go into our office to help shift some of the work tables so staff would be six feet from one another and they could be ready to re-open when the time comes.  The office is in lower Manhattan, and I volunteered to go on Friday as the weather was going to be nice. I could ride my bike down and get some exercise – that has been one of the hardest parts of the shut down.

Lower Manhattan is still pretty empty. That Friday felt like a Sunday morning with hardly anyone on the street except for the occasional wave of protesters.  Another of my colleagues who lives nearby met me there and we did what we needed to do while social distancing.  When we were done I thought I would stay a bit and finish work from my office desk – just like old times.  As he was leaving, a delivery arrived and he came back with a plain brown box, the return address said “MSL” and my heart rate sped up a notch. My work address is apparently the default shipping address for my Mr S account, and I began to think this has the potential to add a bit of spice to my day – little did I know.

As the afternoon wore on the cleaning man came by. I always thought he was hot and hadn’t realized that he still came every day. There wasn’t much for him to do and he asked if I would lock up when he left and said goodbye. My attention soon turned to the box that had arrived, in it was the double rigid irons and the front buckle gag (the hood was on back order, I had received an email saying it would ship in a few weeks). My cock sprang to attention as I started unpacking the box.

The gag was in a plastic bag and had that new leather smell. It has a padded mouthpiece with a big silicon cock and a locking strap that buckles at the front of the mouthpiece and I started to salivate thinking about what it would feel like to wear it. The irons were wrapped in paper and came with two allen wrench “keys”.  The steel contraption was a sight to behold.  The wide thick steel straps had four cuffs – hands in the center and legs at the outside and fastened in the center with a concealed allen head screw set inside a small steel box with an opening just large enough for the “key”. I had ordered the boot size so the outer openings were a bit larger, but didn’t seem large enough to get your foot out even if you weren’t wearing shoes. My cock hardened as I held it: rigid cold steel, unbending, severe.  I couldn’t wait to try it on.

Although the office was empty and the streets outside had even fewer people on them, I was nervous about trying them on at the office. The building maintenance team sometimes came through the various offices at night before they headed out, and I would need to find someplace discreet. But my mind wandered and I began playing with the gag, and started to strap it on. I pulled the strap tight feeling the padded leather mouth piece against my skin, inhaling the smell. But it didn’t seem to go tight enough as I could still push the cock gag out of my mouth. Realizing the buckle wasn’t centered I adjusted the strap and pulled it even tighter, pushing the locking buckle into place and pulling the strap through the other end as precum formed on my shorts. This time the cock was firmly in place and the padded leather mouthpiece muffled any sounds I tried to make. The cock gag filled my mouth completely, the smell was glorious and I fantasized about how it would feel with the hood I ordered as my attention turned to the double rigid irons.

And now my dick took over as I headed toward a conference room in the back of the office. Its an internal room, with a frosted glass wall and door facing a corridor.  Even if someone were to wander into the office they likely wouldn’t go there, and no one outside would be able to see what was happening in there – it seemed like the perfect place. All the lights were off in the office but the days were long and there was still enough light in the room.  I closed the door and settled myself in the corner behind a central table adjacent to a cabinet below the monitor.  I took off the gag, sat on the floor and opened the irons. I put my ankles in, set my hands into position and let the bars drop into place – feeling what it would be like to be locked in the irons. My dick was hard, and I felt its excitement of the prospect of being locked in.

The allen key was in its slot and I tested that I could reach and turn the key, but locking it down turned out to be harder than I thought, as the upper bars were not in contact with the lower bar. I told myself I would lock it and then release myself, just to get the feeling of what it was like, but I couldn’t get the connecting screw close enough to the bottom bar to make the connection.  After toying around with it, I took out my left hand, pushed the bar closed, and turned the allen key to lock my right hand in line.  Realizing I could still reach the key and turn it with my right hand, I released the lock, and put the gag back on. I wanted to feel what it would be like to be locked up with the gag.

I put both hands in place and tried to lock the upper bars by turning the allen key, but couldn’t get it to latch. I shifted position and tried again without success, and shifted again and again, until finally, I was able to twist the key and it caught the thread on the lower bar, and slowly, I tightened the allan key until my ankles and hands were clamped into place.  It was shear bliss.  My legs and arms were locked in front of me in rigid irons and a locking cock gag stuffing my mouth. The smell of leather, and the feeling of cold steel.  I was hard as a rock.

At no point did I feel at risk – I could reach the allen key, had turned it to set the lock, so I knew I could get out again, and I set about testing the limits of my bonds. The boot sized ankle irons meant that I could slide the irons up and down my ankles about four inches, and I could slide my wrists a bit forward and back and I tested those limits.  I could rotate my wrists a bit, but not much to either side, and I enjoyed the feeling of cold steel as the light in the room grew darker and darker as the sun started to set. I sucked on my gag and tried not to drool. I was hard and started to drift into that place I go when I’m bound.

I tried to move around a bit to test the limits of the irons.  I could put my heels down and scoot forward and back and found that I could rotate if I tried by twisting my ankles in the irons, but not very much.  The irons were rigid and firm, so all I had was the little bit of movement in my legs by leaning forward to change position, or rotating my feet. At one point, I was pushing and pulling on the irons and the allen key popped out.  No problem I thought, as my hands could still reach the floor directly in front of me, all I had to do was scoot over and grab the key. It might take some time, but it was doable and I decided to enjoy my predicament suck on the big gag and try not to drool as I grew to appreciate the limits of my bonds. As I took a deep breath I started to recede back to that place, and a great calm came over me.

I started thinking about the hood I ordered, how the leather padding of the gag would feel against the leather hood, the smell, and the terror / thrill of being locked in inescapable bondage.  I remembered the video from Mr S, and imagined again that it was me in that video, and looked down and saw that the precum spot in my shorts had grown as I struggled with my arms and legs locked in the rigid irons.

And that’s when I got the idea.  In the Mr S video, the top grabs the rigid double irons and swings the bottom down on his back, hands and legs high.   As I sucked on the cock gag stuffing my mouth I started wondering if I could roll back, and started rocking back on my ass, slowly at first, just to get the feeling, pulling and straining against the rigid irons. Suddenly, I tumbled backwards, my head hitting the cabinet below the monitor, and I tumbled onto my side, completely startled. Panic started growing as I realized I was not in control.  The key was on the floor where I could not see or reach it, and I needed to find a way to right myself.

My heart was beating fast, and I started to feel the gag in a different way.  I knew I needed to calm myself and get a better picture of my predicament.  My arms were jammed into the rigid irons, and i couldn’t pull them forward at all. I was immobilized in irons, rolled onto my side against a cabinet in a darkening conference room in an empty and abandoned office on a Friday night during a pandemic lockdown.

I tried shifting and found I could push off against the cabinet by rotating my foot and swung around onto the floor on my left side. My legs were pushing against the irons, putting stress on my wrists.  I tried to see if I could reach the floor with my left hand – if I could, then perhaps I could shimmy over to where the key was and use it to release the irons. I tried to stretch forward, pushing my left arm into the restraints, pushing my forearm as far forward as it would go into the rigid irons.  I tried to twist my hand down to see if I could get close to the floor, but could not reach it.  My breathing was growing very fast, and I tried to calm myself as panic set in.

I pushed against the gag with my tongue, trying to simultaneously get more air and slow my breathing to avoid hyperventilating.  Luckily, I had not fastened the gag as tight as I had before and with some effort was able to push the cock gag up, but not entirely out of my mouth, gasping in air, as I tried to calm down.

I tried rocking to see if I could get back into a sitting position but swung back onto my side in an even tighter position than before, banging into the furniture on either side of me.  Panic was setting in, and I needed a plan. I tried to roll back onto my right side to see if I could touch the ground with that hand, and after several tries finally succeeded in rolling right, only to hit the cabinet again at an awkward angle.  With a little scooching I fell onto my side and tried to touch the floor.  The more I stretched, the more I pushed against the irons, but I could not even get close. The irons were pushing against my right calf, and I needed to change positions, but was stuck – jammed into the irons up against the cabinet. I was trying to push the gag out but that did not work either, and as it snapped back into place the panic rose again. As I shifted the irons were pulling tight against my wrists; the only movement I could make was to rotate my ankles and feet. I needed a plan and it was getting darker and darker on a Friday night in a deserted part of the city.

Staring at the cabinet I thought I might be able to get one of my feet under the toe kick, and use that leverage to get back to a sitting position. My first tries with my right foot only succeeded in swinging me around. I needed to get back to my original position, but that proved harder than expected, as my my calf’s had pushed into the rigid irons pulling the irons tight against my wrists making only small movements possible – and it was starting to hurt. When I got back into position, I started rocking to see if I could get my left foot down, but with no luck.  I noticed there was an electrical outlet low on the wall – the face plate stuck out proud of the wall, and I thought if I could get my foot to the bottom of the plate, I might be able to gain some leverage, and use it to flip upwards. But the rigid irons kept my feet separated too far, and there was no way to get my left foot that far down. I landed back on my right side against the cabinet, exhausted, and aching from the pressure against my wrists.

Panic was rising. I didn’t have a plan to get to the key (and freedom) and knew I had to shout for help, knowing there would be embarrassment and humiliation in explaining how I ended up this way, but there was no choice.  I tried shouting out, but it was muffled by the gag’s padded mouth piece. I pushed the cock gag forward with my tongue, pinning the cock head against the top of my mouth.  This pushed the top of the mouth piece out far enough to shout. I yelled out as best I could, but the reality was the conference room door was closed, the room was in the back of the office, the cleaning staff had left and the possibility of any of the maintenance staff being in the office on a Friday night was a long shot. I started to think that there was the possibility I might end up this way until the cleaners come on Monday and broke into a cold seat, wondering if I would even be able to last that long. I had to work out another way to get to the key.

I ran through everything again, and thought maybe a variation on my last attempt could work. If I could rock myself part way forward and get the toe of my sneaker against the wall maybe I could hold that and then flip myself up far enough up to get my foot into the toe kick and right myself. I tried that until I was covered in sweat, but couldn’t get traction against the wall – I would end up falling to my side and spinning on the ground and have to work to shimmy back to try again. It wasn’t working and I started to panic again.

Then I thought I might have a chance if I could flip myself around so my knees and shoulders were on the ground. It wasn’t my favorite idea because it would be awkward, as my face would also be on the pointed down, but at least my hands would be able to touch the ground. I made several attempts to flip but couldn’t swing my weight either way over the rigid irons and landed back on my left side, pushed up against some chairs and partially under the conference room table.

As I tried to roll myself back toward the cabinet I ended up on my back again, my feet still partially under the table. I thought if I could reach the underside of the table with the tip of my foot I could use it as a flipper and might be able to get enough momentum to roll upright.  But first I had to be able to reach the table with my foot.  I pushed to extend my legs as far as i could through the boot sized opening in the irons- adding even more tension to my wrists. I then had to roll forward to get my foot as high as it could go, not an easy maneuver. I tried this several times, but the table top was made of relatively lightweight thin glass and when the tip of my foot made contact with the underside of the table it just pushed up from it’s base, threatening to send it falling, and spilling me back onto my side every time.

Exhausted, I pushed on the gag and tried calling for help again as I tried to calm myself. I knew there was no one to hear my calls. I  needed to rest and think this through – there had to be a way to gain leverage and flip myself upright. but I needed to rest and come up with a better plan.

The irons were totally unforgiving. As I lay on my side with the cock gag filling my mouth I struggled to get some slack in my arms and started to drift again to that other place. My dick was getting hard and I began to forget the pain in my wrists and calfs.

I had no idea how much time had gone by.  The room was quite dark by now. There were no lights on in the office other than what came from streetlights below, and not much of that made its way past the frosted glass of the conference room.

I knew I needed to rally and decided to try the table approach again. I rolled onto my back and rocked forward, the tip of my left foot making contact with the table top.  once again the glass top lifted from its base and shifted and I fell to my side. But this time was different – my left foot maintained contact longer. The key, it seemed, might be to slow things down and minimize the impact and lifting of the table top. The next few tries were better and I made contact again with the tip of my sneaker on the underside of the glass.  The next step was to try to flip my foot with the hope that it would roll me forward.  After another few tries, I decided to try to swing myself forward at the same time.  I thought the table top was going to fly off its base, but I succeeded in flipping forward and landed back in a seated position!  Such relief!

My wrists and legs were sore and still rigidly confined, but as long as I was sitting I had some mobility.  I couldn’t see well in the darkness and didn’t have much of a reach range, but at least had the ability to touch the ground.  Now I needed to find the key.

It felt like it took forever to find it. The key had gotten pushed up against the wall, and it took longer still to maneuver into position to kick it into reach. My wrists were sore, but I was finally able to reach back, insert the key and unlock the irons.  It was almost 10 pm, which meant that I had been locked up for almost 4 hours.

I still had a bike ride home ahead of me with no way of bringing my new irons so I wrapped and re-boxed them and put them under my desk.  As I rode home I could feel the pressure in my jaw from the gag and even now, a few days later, I can still feel the irons on my wrists and legs.

I’m looking forward to the Phase 2 reopening with the hope my new hood will be waiting for me when I get back to the office.

I learned a few things from this experience: 1) next time I follow my dick’s advice, especially with self bondage, I need to let a friend know, this might easily have turned out differently; 2) loosing control made the experience much more interesting (note to self, remember that when playing with others) but is not a great idea when practicing self bondage; 3) I’m even more of a pig for restrictive bondage that I had thought, and can’t wait for the day when we can start to play again. What phase is that?

This is a true story.

Its author is nycstraitjacket on recon.

The End