Go to Individual Chapters

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6

Basement Bondage #1

To begin, we moved the business out of the basement. It took a while to find time to do it but we finally cleaned all the junk out of the basement, cleaned up the sawdust and cobwebs, leaving us with a completely clean an almost totally empty space that we plan on using for a playroom/dungeon. Our house was built over a hundred years ago when foundations were made of stacked limestone and mortar so it has a real dungeon look. There are two rooms, one is very large, perhaps two thousand square feet and the other room is about fourteen by twenty feet. The smaller room was most likely used to store coal back in the days of the original coal burning furnaces.

Before I begin talking about this self-bondage series, I should explain that I love bondage. I love self-bondage as much as I like being tied up by other people. I have a partner who is more than happy to put me into bondage and torment me and I also have a very close friend who would like nothing more than to make me his permanent bondage slave. Both are amused by my self-bondage and make a game of “discovering” me caught in my own inescapable mess so much of my self bondage is escape proof.

My first idea for self-bondage in the basement came while on a long driving trip. I had the luxury of spending uninterrupted hours planning it.

I used the small room in the basement. I went to the hardware store and purchased 24 large stainless eye screws. I drilled three starter holes in the center beam and screwed the eyes crews into the holes. I planned on using the center eyes crew for restraining my head and the outer screws for restraining my arms in a spread eagle position. I measured the distance by standing under the center and reaching out as far as I could to mark the outer positions. With the screws in place, I went upstairs to the toys closet and got a leather head harness with a leather depressor gag, a six foot length of black rope, a blindfold, two rope ratchets (devices with hooks that allows a rope to pull through in only one direction), a steel spreader bar with attached leather cuffs, a bag full of heavy lead weights and a leather bondage belt. I also brought a wood stool from the kitchen table down to the basement.

I hung the rope ratchets from the hooks in the ceiling and tested to see how much weight was required to pull the rope through the ratchet mechanism. After finally satisfying the weight requirement to actuate my bondage, I went upstairs to tell my partner that I was going to put myself into bondage and that I didn’t think I was going to be able to get myself out. He had just sat down to watch a movie in the den and lit a long fat cigar. He had planned on relaxing for the rest of the evening. He seemed disinterested in what I had to say and responded, “I might let you out”. It was a threat that makes self-bondage exciting. I know that he will eventually let me out and I know that he keeps a vigilant ear to my activity to make sure I don’t get into serious trouble but there are times when he does not let me out of bondage when I would like him to. I went back downstairs hoping that, as I always do, that he would be in one of his crueler moods.

I stripped down to my socks and boots and then buckled the leather bondage belt around my waist then buckled the head harness over my head, tightening all the straps so that it was just a bit uncomfortable. I wrapped the leather restraints around my wrist, buckling them as tightly as I could then laid the weights on the stool. I sat on the front edge of the stool and buckled the spreader bar restraints around my booted ankles and then stood under the center eye screw. I slipped the blindfold over my eyes then raised it to my forehead so that I could see what I needed to do to finish tying myself up. I reached above my head and slipped an end of the rope through the eye of the screw and tied the other end through the top ring in the head harness. I reached behind myself and grabbed the weights and hung them on the bondage belt and then pushed the stool out of reach.  To make my bondage complete and inescapable, I reached in each direction and hooked the weights to the loops in the rope ratchet ropes. The weights pulled the ropes through the ratchets. As I reached my arms out toward the outer screws, the weights dropped until, CLUNK, the weights hit the floor. I had tied the weights too close to the end of the rope. With a little reach, I lifted one ratchet hook out of the screw eye and freed myself.

With my freed hands, I tied a loop higher in the rope. I had to struggle a bit to reach the loops with the weights but managed to hook them. The weights pulled the weights through the ratchets once again. I raised my hands toward the screws and the weights continued dropping. Once the ropes were pulled through the ratchets, I could not pull them back. Each time I extended my reach in one direction or the other, the weights dropped more until my arms were pulled tightly in each direction. Once I was satisfied with the tightness of the restraints, I realized that I forgot to slip the blindfold over my eyes. I tried to free myself in order to blindfold myself but each attempt to escape caused the weights to drop a bit more. I was now stretched at my limits and loved it. My nuts and cock were having a hard-on Holiday.

I could hear my partner in the room above me as he shifted position in his chair. The smoke from his cigar was being pulled through the vents, filling the small basement room with what I consider a delightful aroma. I was quite content and happily and inescapably bound. It took a while longer before I began to feel bored. I began to finger the ropes that tied the snap hook that was attached to the leather restraints. I found a possibly way to free myself and began working the knots. I actually began to loosen on the them and then, my partner appeared.

He had a small canvas tool bag filled with toys. Leather razor strop, paddles, tit clamps and whatever else he thought he wanted to use to torture me. He examined my bondage for flaws in security and then pulled the blindfold over my eyes. He tortured me for a while then left me, threatening to leave me bound for the night. He came back a few moments later and snapped a pair of clamps on my tits and then left again.

I tried to fight it, knowing that if I came, I would have a terrible time being left bound and clamped, at least until my libido began to build again. I came, with a great moaning howl and shudders that left me sagging in my bondage. Before I knew what was happening, y partner had removed the clamps and began freeing me.

We discussed my self-bondage while lying in bed. He suggested a few things that would make the bondage total escape proof. We made love and then fell asleep.

My body ached the next morning when I woke. It was from being so tightly stretched and the wild twisting and turning against the restraints when my partner tortured me. I had planned on trying the revised version of the bondage situation but gave up on the idea for that day. I fight with compulsive eating when I am sexually frustrated. I found myself wanting to rummage through the pantry. A couple foolproof ways of preventing it are bringing a straight jacket too my partner. He never asks why anymore. When he’s not home, I lock myself in the steel puppy cage. If he’s not going to be home, I dangle a time-release device that we bought in Germany from the ceiling and attach a key to that. The release can be set for anything from ninety minutes to twelve hours. I’ve spent many nights locked in the cage, cuddling under an old down quilt.

More basement bondage as they happen

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Basement Bondage #2

The third day of my basement bondage odyssey.

I spent the second evening feeling frustrated because I wanted to continue my basement self-bondage odyssey but couldn’t because of back pain that I didn’t want aggravated by an intense position and struggle. I managed to do the things that my partner and I discussed in bed after the first attempt.

The tie for the head was ineffective because I wasn’t able to get the right amount of tension to keep the head in a taught position so I installed another hook in the ceiling, two rafters behind the place where I stand. I hooked another rope ratchet to the new hook and threaded the end of the rope with the tied to it through the front hook. I tested to see how much weight would be needed to pull the rope tight. I also saturated each of the knots that are tied to the hooks that attach to the cuffs with fabric glue so that they could not be manipulated.

The spread of the arms did not seem far enough apart so I also installed another hook in the ceiling about twelve inches out from the original two hooks. This was done for another reason as well. I felt unwanted stress that I thought could lead to nerve damage as the leather cuffs pulled against the base of my thumb. I decided to use a pair of padded suspensions cuffs instead.

I did all of these adjustments while wearing a locking head harness strapped tightly in place. I was in a compulsive eating mood because all that I could think of all day was self-bondage in the basement. I spent the later part of the evening strapped in a Posey straightjacket.

The second attempt came on the third day. Everything was set for my basement self-bondage. I worked the day in my studio and then made dinner. I felt too distracted to eat but my partner insisted. He was afraid that I’d get myself all strung up then faint because I hadn’t eaten much all day. I stashed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher then grabbed a beer and joined my partner in the den for a cigar. The cigar thing, it’s hard to explain. I’m not a real habitual smoker but for some reason, I make an erotic connection with good cigars and good cigar smoke. Cigar enthusiasts know what I mean.

I was supercharged for a good bondage session. I strapped the head harness over my head, the belt around my waist and the spreader bar restraints around my ankles. I pushed the stool that I sat on while fastening the ankle restraints backward a few feet. I couldn’t figure out hoe to handle the head restraint weights so I wrapped the rope around the front screw eye. I attached the hooks to the suspension restraints then struggled to hook the weights on the loop in the rope. Before allowing the weights to drop, I reached above my head and freed the rope for the head weights. The head restraint weights dropped, tightening the rope that was tied to my head. I let the wrist weights pull my wrists up and out, pulling one way and then the other until everything was tight. In my struggle to tighten the wrist bonds, I hadn’t realized that my head wasn’t held as tightly as I thought it should be. The weights had fallen on the stool that I shoved under them when I pushed it behind myself. Things still weren’t perfect and I couldn’t do a thing about it.

My partner came down shortly after I finished trussing myself up. He inspected the ropes and my restraints and then started heading for the stairs. I begged him for help. “SIR! Could you please move the stool? I shoved it in the wrong place”. I had to repeat myself twice to get him to understand what I wanted. The gag was doing its job very well. He moved the stool; the weights dropped and tightened the rope connected to the head harness. He said, “I suppose you’ll be calling me down to do this so I guess I’ll do it now”. He lengthened the spreader bar, which spread my feet apart another foot, which also put more tension on the head.

So there I was, stretched and bound, unable to do a thing about it, relying on my partner’s vigilance and mercy (or lack of it).

It was hard to calculate passing time. It seemed fleeting and yet it seemed to drag on. I’d been alone for a while when my partner came downstairs again. I was getting tired so I began to feel a strong desire to be freed. That was not his intention. He lubricated my rectum and pushed a butt plug into and strapped it tightly in place with a body harness. I begged him to clamp my tits but he ignored me.

It was another while before he came down. “You’re not the only one who needs pleasure. It’s my turn tonight.” he said. He removed the restraints and ordered me to follow him upstairs to the bedroom. He “forced” me to give head and then removed the butt plug so that he could violently fuck me. He’d gotten off several times and I, in my way, had also gotten off. I had not been allowed to cum so frustration was piled upon frustration. I felt a bit angry but would never say anything. I have no right to.

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Basement Bondage #3

I approached this attempt almost exactly as I had during the previous self-bondage attempt. The major change was with the way that the ankles (feet) were restrained. The steel and leather spreader bar allowed me to lift and move my feet. The problem that the movement creates was primarily the fact that I tried to protect myself when my partner tortured me on my first attempt, which in turn was probably responsible for the back pain that I suffered the day after.

To combat this, I used a piece of 2x12 lumber from the shop to make a platform. I trimmed six inched from each end and glued and nailed it to the underside of the platform and used eye bolts for attachment points. The weight and length of the board was enough to make a stable platform but I piled twenty five pounds of weight lifting weight on each
of the board.

I had not been allowed to cum for several days so I was in the throws of horny mindlessness. Before starting to bind myself, I dug out my, for lack of better words, leather corset and asked my partner to put me into it. (I’m not a cross dresser but I became interested in a corset as a method of breath control. This corset was made for me as a rather intense bondage device. It extends from the top of my legs to just below the chest. After it is laced tightly, a leather flap covers the laces and is held closed by industrial Velcro. Five thick leather straps wrap the body on the outside of the corset and lock in from with padlocks. There are two sets of lacing grommets. One set for tight and the other for intensely tight.) Wearing the corset made getting myself into bondage was all but impossible.

With everything in place, my body was stretched in five directions. As my partner had warned that evening, “I’ll be too busy to play with you tonight so good luck”, I was left alone for what seemed an eternity. I knew he was monitoring me but I would not bother him. He would know if I needed him.

I think that part of what I think is important about bondage for me is, developing a real sense of helplessness. The idea of being bound and left for long periods of time helps me get into a headspace that makes me feel that I am really and truly imprisoned. In a way, it is a tremendous release that takes me out of day-to-day rush, activity and stress. In a way, the bodily and mind fuck of being a total captive, obliterates everything I am for the time that I am bound. I think that self-bondage with release mechanisms is one of the few ways to feel this overwhelming sense of absolute and complete helplessness, especially when there is no one around to help you.

He released me at about 2:30 A.M. He had finished lacing me into the corset about 8: P.M. so I figured that I had been bound for about six hours.

He insisted that I put my chastity belt on before I went to bed so I still haven’t cum.

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Basement Self-Bondage #4

The basic self-bondage position was well established. The restraints that I used allowed for tension on the arms without probable damage. Tension on the head harness was good. It made me stand with spine erect and put just enough stress on the neck to make things interestingly unpleasant. The feet were well restrained. It took a few nights to get it right but it was worth the struggle, design and redesign.

Little did I know that my partner had put his nasty mind to my design. He had constructed foot stocks, something that was on his mind for some time anyway. He constructed a thirty-six inch square by five-inch high plywood box with a lid that has two sets of holes cut into it at a line down the middle where the two halves of the top meet. This closes with two hasps and padlocks. For comfort, he laid a piece of neoprene foam in the bottom of the box. For interest, he obtained a sisal doormat that fits inside the box. For torment, he went to the machinery supply store and bought several hundred half inch steel ball bearings.

I’d been hard at work on Web Site Design all day and reached a point at which I was totally unable to keep my attention on what I was doing so I knocked off at about 6:30 P.M. I made microwave dinners and a salad and called it a meal. Neither of us felt much like cooking. I didn’t feel much like eating because all that I could think about was getting myself strung up again. While my partner took a few minutes to relax in front of the TV, I went up to the toy closet. I had decided to add a little electrical fun to the picture. I inserted a Bi-polar butt plug and wrapped a conductive blue strap around the base of my scrotum and just behind the head of my cock. With the wires dangling, I brought the leather corset downstairs and asked my partner to truss me in it. He reluctantly laced me up and tightened the straps. It was hard to miss the dangling wired
He smiled when he saw noticed them.

“You know” he said, “it’s going to be awful hard to get yourself tied up while your in that corset. I think I’ll come down and help you”. That’s when he introduced me to his new foot stocks. I was all strung up and helpless to respond when he brought it in from the workroom. I didn’t know what he was doing because I was blindfolded. I heard the sound of metal being dumped. I couldn’t imagine what he was doing. He helped me step into his contraption. I stood on a mass of steel marbles. He closed and locked the cover, adjusted the rest of the restraints then plugged the butt plug and electrical straps into the electrical units. He had changed one of the units to a remote control device. He turned the plug up so that it was at the top of the “pleasure range” and gave me a good jolt to the genitals just to let me know what I was in for. He went upstairs, leaving me to my pleasure.

The first thing that I did was check for an ability to escape. It was fruitless. Struggling made things tighter. Then I turned my attention to the butt plug that was fucking me with electric current. It was incredible as usual. I think I could live my entire life hooked up to it and never get enough. I began to moan in pleasure. I received a jolt to my genitals each time I made a sound. The louder the sound, the more intense the jolt. I began to feel very aware of my feet. The steel balls pressed into the soles causing increasing pain.  Everything else that I felt was pleasure. The foot torture grounded me. It was the one thing that would eventually cause me to regret my situation. I called out for my partner, hoping that I could get him to let me out of his foot stocks but as I began to yell, the shock to my genitals acted like a gag. It was another of my partner’s fiendish “No win situations”.

I endured this pleasure/pain for several hours before my partner came down to give me his full attention. He tortured my tits until I screamed. The scream sent a shock though my balls that made them feel as if they were being fried. Once my partner accomplished that, he turned his attention to my butt. He began beating me with his old brown razor strop. Each time the strop made contact, the sound sent a shock to my genitals. I rapidly reached the point at which I could not handle his attention anymore. I started laughing hysterically, as I do when I’m beyond my limits. He gave me a few hard whacks then set the strop aside. He turned his attention to my tits again, this time stroking my cock. He removed the straps and wires. He slowly tortured my cock with a small leather stinger while increasing the pressure on my tits. Finally, he got on his knees in front of me and took my cock in his mouth.

All the clamps were removed. His foot stocks were taken aware and replaced with the steel and leather spreader bar. He left me bound for another couple of hours. I was sure that it was going to be an all night affair and resigned myself to it. I was completely exhausted and believe that I was actually sleeping when he he cam to release me.

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Basement Self-bondage #5

I think I’m getting tired of the same old thing.

I set up my self-bondage earlier yesterday. I planned on just the basics, spread eagle with leather restraints, the spreader bar and the head harness. This time I was on my own because my partner went to Chicago on a supply run so I didn’t expect him until late evening.

I had the Time-Cuff in the freezer. I didn’t know how much ice there was in the water tube because the permanently attached lid cracked the second time I used it. I taped it with duct tape but a lot of water still leaked out of it as it froze. I had no idea of how long I was going to be bound. The Time-Cuff model is supposed to be good for a five hour session.

I drilled another hole in the rafter about 18 Inches to the left of the outermost eye screw, attached the time cuff to it and then used it as my release mechanism. I changed my mind once again. I decided to use my partners foot stocks instead of the spreader bar. I emptied all the ball bearings into a large plastic bag and replaced it with the sisal doormat. I thought that being bound with no other stimulation might be boring.

I strapped myself into the restraints, connected the ropes, slid the blindfold over my eyes and dropped the weights. Everything went smoothly. I stretched my arms out as far as I could to get the maximum stress on my arms. It feels good besides making it totally possible to escape until the ice in the Time-Cuff melts.

I was just reaching the point at which I began to fatigue. The point of regret for binding myself just realized when the ice let go of the cuff, allowing me to free myself. I was bound for a little over an hour. What a disappointment.

The Time-Cuffs seem like a good idea but the construction is not sturdy enough to allow stress on the plastic parts. I’m very disappointed with them. I decided to go to the hardware store and by components to make one of my own design and try it out the next time I do a basement bondage session.

I bought an eight-foot length of small diameter PVC tubing and caps, some stainless steel (clevis?) pins, PVC cement and stainless steel washers. I used a band saw to cut an eight piece from the PVC tube. The PVC caps already had holes molded in them and I had managed to find (clevis?) pins that fit the holes with little room to spare. I assembled the parts, which was a design in progress, filling the caps with an adhesive material then expands as it hardens so that water would not leak from them. The adhesive took about eight hours to harden. Once hardened, I cemented one the cap with the short pin to the tube and let it harden. The other cap has a six-inch pin with a one-inch diameter stainless steel washer permanently attached to the tip. This end goes into the tube once filled with water. Once frozen, he entire tube needs to thaw before escape is possible.

I showed my design to my partner. He thought it was well made but wondered what could be done to keep the entire ice chunk from slipping out once the outer portion of it begins to melt. He put his mechanical genius to work and redesigned the removable cap end of the tube so that the pin and block of ice is trapped until all of the ice melts. The last touch was to slip the tube that I made from a sheet of neoprene foam over the tube and then fill it with water and free it.

Next time…

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Basement Self Bondage #6

The original design for the ice tube worked but it had some design flaws, the primary one being that it just didn’t look good. My partner and I headed off to his favorite hardware store to figure out just how we could make a solid workable self bondage device that was good looking. He’s always looking at making toys from an angle of marketability. So we spent hours looking up and down the isles, trying this and that and fitting that to the other thing until my interested faded into near oblivion. I started looking in the house wares department for interesting things to store in the kitchen cupboards. I found a cake pan that bakes a cake that is sculpted like a sunflower.

OKAY! Cool! I headed back to the hardware isles and found this really cool fitting and fell instantly in love with it. I showed it to my partner and to may surprise, he liked it and immediately began piecing things together. He spent part of the afternoon the next day in the shop trying to figure out how to put it together. What a solid piece of work!

We filled it with water and stood it cork side up in the freezer. Every time I opened the freezer for the next twenty-four hours, the new Ice Tube starred me in the face, hypnotizing me. I knew what I was going to do with it. I would finish the bondage position that I had devised for myself and do it exactly as weeks of planning and experimentation had led me to believe would be perfect. It would be inescapable, somewhat stressful and leave me open for assault from almost every angle.

It was 8:30 P.M. I had opened the heating vents in the basement earlier that day so I would get cold while standing naked and bound. I went down to make sure everything was still set as it has been for the session over the past few weeks. I went back upstairs to the Den where my partner was puffing on a big black Honduran cigar while watching a movie with a friend. I asked him to unlock my chastity belt so that I could put myself into bondage. He looked at me quizzically and then remembered what I wanted to do. He dug into his pocket for the keys and unlocked the belt. I opened it and slipped my penis out of its steel prison. It was the first time that it had seen light in nine days.

I went upstairs to the toy closet and put on my leather body harness, inserted a large black plug into my rectum before buckling the crotch strap. I had difficulty getting the cock ring on because I was so excited and ready to explode with just the slightest touch. I fought off the urge to get myself off and went downstairs to put myself in bondage, grabbing the Ice Tube from the freezer on my way.

I hung the tube from a hook that hung from the eye screw in the rafter and slipped the hook from the rope ratchet through the ring at the other end of the tube. I buckled my bondage belt tightly around my waist and then hung the weights that I needed to actuate the rope ratchets from the rings in the belt. I opened my partners foot stocks and stood on the sisal mat inside. I closed the lid, trapping my feet and locked the hasps. I buckled the head harness with the gag around my head and then carefully and snuggly buckled the suspension restraints around my wrist and hands. I slipped the weights into the loop that I tied in the rope for the rope ratchet that was connected to the head harness. The weights dropped an pulled the head straight. I slipped the weights into the loop in the rope for the left hand and let them drop, making sure that I did not allow them to pull my hands away from my body. I slipped the weights into the loop for the right hand restraints and let the weight drop. I could still reach the blindfold, which I pulled down over my eyes, adjusting it until all that I could see was blackness. I spread my arms out in both directions; the weights pulled the rope through the ratchets. I stood on my toes until the rope for the head was tight and then dropped to the soles of my feet again. I struggled and fidgeted for a few more moments until I was stretched to my limits. Bondage was inescapable. My only avenue of escape was the Ice as it melted inside of the Ice Tube or my partner, if I dared to call him to help me.

I wouldn’t dare to call my partner unless something was going so wrong that it would cause health problems of bodily injury because, in the midst of this spree of self-bondage scenarios we agreed, in an effort to prevent any attempt at manipulation for early release, That early release would result in punishment that would be so terrible that I would do all in my power to avoid it. The punishment was being beaten with a twenty-six inch long, half-inch wide strap made of harness leather. I had that strap. It hurts so much that I have never been able get into a frame of mind that would allow me to turn it into pleasure. The punishment would occur no matter the reason for release. I would dare not call him.

I barely got myself secured when I lost control. My cock was so hard that it hurt. I came spontaneously despite my attempt to prevent it. I shook violently, screaming as I shot cum on the ground in front of me. My partner came down, rushing in near panic. “I’m okay! I’m okay,” I shouted through the muffling gag. He saw cum spattered on the top of the foot stocks and floor. He laughed, “that should make things more interesting for you”, and went back upstairs.

It was at least an hour before I saw him again. By that time, I had become excited again and wanted to be stimulated. He and his friend tormented me with clamps and weights for a while then removed them and turned their attention to my backside. One of them used my partner’s razor strop, giving me twenty good hard whacks. The pained seared its way through my body. I screamed, which made the punisher even more excited and brutal. He ended the strapping by standing behind me feeling my sides with calloused hands, it was the friend. He slipped his cock out of his pants and teased my backside with it then stepped back. My partner snapped a pair of clamps on my tits and they both went back upstairs.

I could hear them above me and began to smell them. Their cigar smoke drifted down to the basement, surrounding me in what I imagined was a thick delicious fog. I was left alone, to suffer in my own demise until the ice melted, allowing me to release myself.

It took four hours and twenty minutes for the ice to melt. I think I could have attained release a little sooner if I had struggled but I was in the mood to remain bound and enjoy the feeling of helplessness.

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