A Look at My Top and Bottom Selfbondage Moments

My most memorable selfbondage moment is also my toughest because it was somewhat frightening yet highly arousing.

I dressed in a polo shirt, shorts, and nylon pantyhose for the session, wearing only stockings on my feet as usual.

I grabbed an old, small knife to use for release and attached it to the end of a 20-meter rope. The plan was to place the knife at a distance while tying myself securely so that I would have to drag the knife toward me to free myself.

Once the knife was set in position with its retrieval rope lying by my side, I began working on my tie. I opted for a cinch noose wristcoil hogtie using white cotton rope.

First, I crossed and tied my ankles together. I particularly enjoy having my ankles bound while wearing stockings. Next, I secured my legs just above the knees, pulling them tight. Then, I attached a noose to the back of my ankles, ensuring the knot remained in front so it was out of reach—making escape difficult.

Afterward, I gagged myself with a bandana and tied a rope from a room heater to my waist, preventing me from squirming toward the knife. My arms were strapped against my sides with a belt, and finally, I lay face down and hogtied myself using the cinch noose wristcoil.

I got a bit of a scare when the ropes tightened around my wrists more than ever before. It was an especially good knot that I could feel immediately, which aroused me right away.

I squirmed and struggled slightly with satisfaction at being so tightly bound, then began pulling the knife back toward me. It was hard work, especially since my fingers were going numb from the rope’s pressure. Since I lived alone at the time, I knew there was no other option, so I tugged and pulled for what felt like hours (though it was likely only a minute or two).

Eventually, I got hold of the knife and prepared to cut my hands free. I had deliberately picked a dull blade because I didn’t want an easy release. That turned out to be a mistake—the knife was too dull to slice through the ropes effectively. Realizing I was stuck left me horrified and panicky. Simultaneously, I felt aroused in a unique way, actually climaxing while lying there struggling.

After some more struggle, I noticed that my movements only made the ropes tighter still, which helped calm me down. Looking at the bindings, I decided to try cutting the single rope connecting my ankles and wrists. Hoping the dull knife could manage it, I was lucky enough for it to work. Then I addressed the rope securing me to the heater; since it was also a single line, I managed to cut that too.

Now free from the main constraints, I squirmed into the kitchen. There, on the wall, hung a magnetic knife holder. I hoped I could stand up well enough to reach one of those knives and slice my wrists loose.

At this point, I realized why crossed ankles with nylon-clad feet are problematic on smooth floors: every time I tried to rise, I slipped back down onto the floor again.

Panic set in as my wrists became almost completely numb. Then, I simply sat up on my knees and checked if I could reach the knives using my head; luckily, I could. I knocked one loose from its holder with some effort. Finally, I managed to cut myself free, even though I did nick myself during the process.

I lay down for a while afterward, exhausted but strangely content.

As mentioned at the start, this was both my best and worst experience.