More Self Discovery

My first experience trying to tie myself up was unsatisfactory in that I never really achieved a complete helplessness. At the time, I didn't think it could be achieved, but felt that I wanted it. I began daydreaming about being tied up in ways that I could not escape from.

I did a little research, and played with knots when I could. My parents and brother were usually home and I couldn't really do much with them around, but I actually learned some things in the privacy of my own room. Then one day, my parents and brother went out and were not scheduled to return until dinner time. I had a solid four hours to play alone, and I prepared for it.

The parents left, telling me not to get into trouble. I was 14, a freshman in high school, and was still a virgin but just barely. I had been dating a couple of guys informally and sneaked out to see one of them when I could. I could easily have gotten one of them over to get into trouble, but at this point I wanted to see what I could do alone.

This time, I stripped first. The experience before was exciting and turned me on, a lot. I wanted to experience that again. The sensation of being naked increased my sense of daring, as well as making me feel vulnerable and excited. I was wet between my legs before I removed my panties. Touching myself with my hand, I rubbed my clit for a while, just feeling the sensation of being completely naked in the house, and the sensual turn on of anticipating being tied up.

I began with my ankles. It was an easy decision. This time though, I crossed my ankles before tying, and used the rope to crisscross the ankles. This spread my legs while still tying me securely. I tested the tie a bit, making sure it was secure, and then played with myself for a while, masturbating and  taking the wetness on my fingers to my nipples.

Next, I took some panties from my laundry. They weren't "dirty", but they weren't fresh either. I put them in my mouth, pushing the cloth deep inside the cavity of my left cheek, then inside the center over my tongue, and then pushing into my right cheek. It wasn't nearly enough. I could feel that the gag wasn't complete, so I got up to find some more cloth.

And fell over, because my ankles were tied. DUH. Rather than untie and retie my ankles, I dragged myself over to my laundry and sorted through for something suitable. All I found was a pair of gym socks. I considered briefly whether I wanted them stuffed inside my mouth and decided it would have to do. Restuffing my panties in, I followed them with the socks. When I was done, my cheeks were bulging and my tongue was pushed down and back, my mouth was so full. I dragged myself back to my desk where I had some wide silver tape I had gotten from my dad's tool box.

The cloth kept coming out. I stuffed it back in and then started wrapping the tape around my wide open but full mouth. My hair was tied back in a pony so it wasn't too hard to get the tape all around my head and around my mouth several times. After about 10 wraps around, I decided it was secure and stopped for a bit to consider my next move.

That gag was strong and effective. I couldn't make much noise. I sat on the floor with my knees spread and masturbated some more. The feeling of helplessness I wanted was coming on and exciting me as I moved my fingers inside myself, pushing and sliding over my clit. My nipples were hard. I pinched them, and felt a surge of pleasure and excitement. I pinched them harder, feeling a little pain that simply excited me more. It was then I had another idea.

Mouth gagged securely and ankles tied I dragged myself into the bathroom next to my own room. There I found a basket that contained what I wanted - clothespins. I grabbed a handful and dragged myself back to my room. I was getting rug burn and realized I wasn't as prepared as I thought I was. Time to get a move on.


One clothespin in hand, I pulled and massaged one erect nipple to its fullest and then placed the clamp on it. As the spring pressed down and closed on the sensitive flesh, I emitted a muffled yelp! It hurt a lot more than I thought it would. I quickly removed the pin, and yelped again as it came off. Wow, that was intense. But I wanted it, desperately. Weirder and weirder I thought, but I was so hot and aroused by now I could take the pain. I put the clamp back on my left nipple, cringing at the pain and waiting a moment before massaging my right breast, pulling the nipple out and clamping it as well.

Fuck, it hurt. But strangely as I sat there and felt the pain, it seemed to diminish. It ached, but I could take it.

I took a rope down from the top of my desk. It had been pretied in a way I had learned by doing a little research. It was a way of tying my wrists by using a knot that was already tied in a loop, then just pulling the loop tight.  I had already thought through how to pull on the loop to tighten around my wrists. The other end of the rope would go around my ankles, of course!  They would naturally pull and tighten the loop, right?

One end of the rope went around my ankles. It was looped, not tied. I pulled on it to make sure it was secure around my ankles and then moved away to a pre-tied rope that was on the floor next to me. This was the special treat of which I was so proud; I had played with it before to get it right.

It was a sort of figure 8 tie, that had two loops on each end with the rope wrapped in the middle. The loops would cinch tighter if pulled (though not a lot, I hadn't gotten that part perfected yet). Reaching my arms behind my back I slid each loop of the figure 8 over one of my hands. By pushing and rolling the ropes higher, I managed to get them up to my elbows before my arms couldnt stand it any more and I relaxed, spreading my elbows apart and cinching the rope tight around my arms. My elbows were now about a foot or so apart behind my back.

I lay there for a moment. My hands were still free but the tie around my elbows had restricted me, a lot. My breathing was fast and shallow, partly from the effort I had put into getting the elbow ropes on, and partly because I was so aroused. I wanted to cum but reaching my clit was no longer possible. It was time for the last step.

I lay on my side and bent my knees as much as I could. The rope that went around my ankles and ended in the wrist loops was too short; I needed to get my feet further up. I wriggled to where I could press my knees against the desk for support and then curved and bent my back so that I could reach my hands all the way to my feet. I grabbed the loops (there was one for each wrist with a wrapping in between) and managed to get my wrists into them.

It had been a huge struggle to get myself tied and I finally relaxed. As I relaxed, my legs moved away from my wrists a few inches and pulled the cinch tie tight. Whamo! I felt it immediately. The rope encircled my wrists, my body naturally pulling my legs away and keeping the cinch tight. Wow, it felt good. I was helpless.

I lay on my side, panting a bit. I had successfully and unwittingly placed myself into a rather tight, constricting hogtie. It felt marvelous. I wriggled, and all it did was make the ropes tighter. I rolled onto my stomach, and felt my legs sag down and pull my arms back and shoulders up. I was in an inverted curve and either my shoulders would be pulled back or my legs would have to be pushed up.

The clothespins on my nipples continued to hurt, but not nearly as badly as when I had first put them on. The flesh ached, and I realized for the first time that my self tie prevented me from stopping the pain. My wrists and hands were aching from the tight ropes which constricted blood flow. I forced myself back to relieve some of the tightness, and got no relief.

I rolled over again, considering my predicament. I was stark naked on the floor of my room. My breasts jutted out in front of me, with clothespins on the nipples. My wrists were effectively tied to my ankles, which were in turn tied in a way that forced my knees apart, exposing my pussy. I had done better than I had ever imagined. I writhed for a little while, struggling.

My ties were complete. I was secure, and it was going to be damn hard to get out of. The elbow ropes were the surprise to me; the effectively stopped me from moving my wrists around to reach the knots. I hadn't bargained on this and I began to wonder how I was going to get out of this.

OK. Yeah. I was 14, and naive. Really naive. I may have prepared for this play session and set things up for a secure self bondage session but I hadn't thought far enough ahead to make sure I could get out of it.  Panic rippled across my body and I started struggling and writhing. I saw the clock. Two hours had passed, my parents would be home in two hours and find me here! Excuses ran through my head, explanations. A rogue rapist had broken into the house and tied me up. That was it, I could explain it that way. Except the house was locked from the inside and there was no break in. What was I going to do?

The ropes were tight, and I wriggled my hands to try and get free. My jaw was hurting from how far wide it was being held open; I bit down on the panties and socks, that helped a bit. My nipples were burning with a deep pain that was turning into numbness. My legs were cramping, and when they cramped I automatically tried to move them out straight, which pulled on the wrist cinch until my hands hurt, badly.  I started to cry. I tried to yell. Nope... the gag was a good one. It muffled the sound.

Finally, I stopped. It was time to get real and think. There was only one way out that I could think of, it was a long shot but I had to try.  I had to get a knife from the kitchen and cut myself loose.

If you have ever been in a hogtie, you will know that it isn't easy to travel in it. Small movements can be made with a lot of effort. The most effective way to move is to roll to one side, scoot legs forward then roll to the other side, and so on. When I got into the hall, I tried rolling all the way over onto my back. It was humiliating, as my body arched up, pushing my hips into the air with my legs spread wide as if I were welcoming some guy to fuck me.

It was incredibly slow going, and every move made the ropes tighter. About a half hour later and most of the way down the hall my right nipple clamp rubbed off and I screamed in pain. I had no idea that taking the clamps off would be more painful than putting them on; I lay there on the hall carpet and sobbed into my gag for a bit and then pressed my other breast down and wriggled until that clamp came off as well. I screamed again and then began wriggling down the hall toward the kitchen.

In the kitchen, I was faced with a difficulty. The knives were sitting in a knife block on the counter. The counter was about 3 feet higher than I was. I lay looking at the knives and cried, tears running down my face and over the tape of my self imposed gag.

There was a footstool in the corner. That was the only option. Slowly, painfully, I wriggled over to it. When I reached it I pushed it with my head, two or three inches at a time. It finally made it over to the counter.

My whole body ached and cramped. It hurt horribly. My left leg had a charlie horse, and my shoulders ached as well. My jaw ached from the gag. I writhed, feeling the wetness between my legs which indicated I was still aroused beyond belief.

Right then, at that moment, I decided I needed a boyfriend to help me. I wasn't going to tie myself up again. I needed a guy to be there, to control me. It made sense. I wanted to feel helpless and I was amazed at how horny I was tied up like this, but I also knew I needed to be submitting to someone else, not just tying myself up.  Strangely, this thought motivated me and I started the task of getting my body up onto the first step of the stepstool.

My breasts rested on the first step, flattened out on display. The metal edge of the step scraped against my ribs as I wriggled a few inches higher, leaning against the step. Inch by inch I pushed my body higher, leaning against the steps.

Thank god there was a plate at the top, next to the block of knives. I pushed it with my head and the knives slid. I pushed and maneuvered until finally the knives fell from the counter to the floor with a loud clatter. I literally threw myself down off the step stool and landed on the floor next to the knives. I got one in my hand (which was numb) and started sawing.

The clock on the wall said I had 10 minutes. I sawed faster. It wasn't working. I was getting the barest bit of rope to separate. At this rate it was going to take an hour. I fumbled around, feeling the knives, finally finding one with a serrated edge. That one worked better. The rope began to fray and stretch. I sawed harder, unable to be very effective because of limited movement. Suddenly, my legs straightened out. The rope from my ankles to my wrists had given way and I was no longer bent back. I let out a muffled whoop and then cry as the cramps rolled through my naked body once again.

Once the rope around my wrists was cut away from my ankles, I was able to work them free. I was then able to roll and move the elbow restraints and finally undo my ankles. When the gag came off it hurt like the dickens, the tape taking some of the hair behind my neck with it. The panties and socks came out, and I was free.

The parents were 10 minutes late. I gathered the remnants of rope, tape and gag together and limped to my room. I hid the remains of my bondage, lay down on the bed, spread my legs wide and started masturbating furiously. I came in less than a minute, after which I lay panting and recovered from my experience.

When my parents came home a few minutes later I was showering. I was bruised, had some minor scrapes, but was none the worse for the bondage.

I knew what I wanted then. And I also knew I needed someone else to play with in order to get it.

Self Discovery

I have been asked numerous times how I became involved in bondage, pain, and eventually into a submissive relationship that is entirely and completely fulfilling. So, here are some of my memories and recollections. Ultimately, there is no reason why. There is no triggering event, no special perversion caused by an abusive parent. There was simply a growing and passionate desire for certain things.

My earliest memory of bondage was when I was still pretty young; before I started dating any boys. I was a virgin, and while kissing behind the gym was an interesting new activity I was far from being sexually active. Yes, I had matured well, had breasts and an overall womanly shape with long dark hair, and was even considered a bit of a slut by kids in school (they were jealous, mostly).  Let me also be clear. At this point in my life I didn't even know that bondage and SM existed as a fetish. I had seen no pictures, read no stories, never talked of it, and was unaware that it was a sensual activity engaged in by anyone.

My family lived in a decent lower middle class house with a two car garage. We only had one car, so the other half of the garage was dedicated to a lot of the usual junk. It was there that one day I found some rope. A long, soft length of rope. I had entered using the back door from the back yard, and the main front door that tipped up for cars was down, and it was dark and quiet. A single light bulb from the back lit the unfinished interior.

I remember sitting on the floor in my jeans and playing with knots. In order to get a good position for the rope I wrapped it around my ankles and then practiced tying various knots. Wriggling to get out, I found it rather easy to loosen the knot or stretch the rope and get free. So, I wrapped the rope tighter around my ankles a few more times, providing a sturdier based and tried a different knot technique (I was completely naive to knots and was making things up as I went along).

There came a point when I had the rope around my ankles and knees, with a tie at the ankles and was working on the knot at the knees when the most horrible of noises came -- the front garage door had its bolt slid out and moments later the springs creaked as it slowly lifted up. I was sitting on the floor half tied and desperately trying to undo the knots as the door rose and my older brother walked in. My cheeks were burning with embarrassment, and the rope was rapidly removed.

"Whatcha doin?" My brother looked at me with idle interest. He didn't really care what his younger sister was doing that much.

"Uh, I was just bored. Wanted to see if I could tie some knots. What are you doing here, perv?" And that was that. I forget what happened after that, but whatever it was, was unremarkable and passed quickly.

What stayed with me was the feeling I had while my legs had been tied up like that. There was this desire to see if I could really tie myself up and truly restrict myself. The desire wasn't pure, either, it was something dark that I knew wasn't going to be accepted or condoned and was humiliated when it was discovered. I knew that the sensation I had as I felt my legs bound and restricted was exciting to me in a very new way. What was more strange was how excited I felt being discovered; the humiliation that I had experienced when my brother walked in was like a huge adrenalin rush and stuck with me.

I didn't realize it at the time, but it was a sexual rush.

Being discovered playing with the rope was a huge rush and made the whole experience exciting. I wasn't stupid though, and I knew that if I was to try to do this again and was discovered again, it might result in interference. Like, my parents being told, and maybe being sent to a councilor or punished or yelled at. So, I was more careful the next time. This meant waiting until there was no one to interrupt me, which took a while. It eventually came when my parents were visiting my grandparents for the afternoon, and my brother had gone off to be in some music thing he had. I was alone for several hours.

It never struck me as strange at the time, and maybe doesn't even strike me as strange now given my life style, but I had been waiting weeks for the opportunity to try self bondage again. During these weeks I had thought of various reasons why I had found the tie easy to get out of, and how to improve it. I also imagined how it could be extended. The idea of both my legs and arms being restrained appealed to me, excited me, and was part of my agenda that afternoon.

I locked the doors to the garage this time; it would be easier to explain why I was in there with doors locked than why I was trussed up like a chicken, should someone come home early. Sitting on the floor with the rope, I began.

Looping the rope and then wrapping it around my ankles and then threading back through the rope a couple of times created a very tight tie with 8 loops of rope around my ankles. I wriggled, found it getting loose and tightened it until it hurt a bit. The pain felt satisfying, because I knew the rope was tight enough it wouldn't come off. I didn't realize it but the pain also gave me a shot of adrenalin and enhanced the experience; pain was accepted then and continued to be accepted as part of the bondage experience for me ever since.

Stretching the two strands of rope up and then around my knees I performed the same looping, threading and tightening. I tied it off and sat there for a bit, concentrating on the helpless feeling in my legs. It was satisfying. It felt good, in the oddest way I couldn't explain.

It wasn't enough though. I needed more. My legs were immobile (I rolled around on the floor a bit to see just how immobile), but the rest of my body was free and I could feel how that diminished the entire experience. Something was wrong. I needed to tie my wrists.

Sitting on the floor, my legs bent at the knees so I sat slightly crooked, I tied my wrists in front of me. That was tough. Really, tough. You need at least one free hand to tie a knot. I managed to wrap rope around my wrists and pull it tight, but a knot was impossible. I simply wrapped the rope around about 10 times and threaded it through as much as I could, and decided that was enough.

Sitting with my legs tied was uncomfortable so I lay down. My hands tied helped, and the experience was getting closer to what I knew I desired deep down-- being bound and helpless. Still, it wasn't there. I sat up and attempted to retie my hands behind my back. This was better-- the feeling of helplessness was stronger, and I was getting aroused. This was the first time I realized that being bound and helpless was sexually arousing to me; it didn't seem odd because I was still discovering my sexuality and everything seemed new and exciting.

I lay down on the floor for a while, feeling the experience of being pseudo-restrained. My legs were secure, but my wrists were an illusion. I could live with that for a while, but the experience wasn't complete.

All in all, I spent about 2 hours in the garage, trying to get the ropes tighter, the knots more secure, actually trying to get a good knot in my wrists so I couldn't just wriggle out. The whole experience was incredibly exciting, arousing, and tantalizing to me.

While I was tied, I actually spent some time getting the handle of a broom between my legs (I was still wearing jeans) and getting it to rub. Once I got it between my legs and extending through and pressing against my crotch, my hands (tied behind) grabbed it and managed to move it back and forth a little. The whole experiment was turning more and more into a sexual exploration.

Realizing I didn't know how much time had passed and I needed to stop, I wriggled free of the rope around my wrists, and undid the rope around my legs. The clock inside the house indicated I probably had an hour to spare but it was a good, safe time to stop. One thing was crystal clear from this experience: I was excited by being restrained, and wanted to try it again. A lot. It was also clear that it was a sexual thing and that I would spend more thought into how I could incorporate this into my next play session.

And it was absolutely for certain that I would play again.