So some men when they turn middle aged get a fast car, or fuck the secretary.
I returned to self bondage.
Let me do the long form here.
I always loved sex during thunder storms, the drama, play some o fortuna and that lighting...wow.
Self Bondage during a thunderstorm? Sign me up.
This was way back and a hard cock has no conscious. I was also into things that today no one would sanction. I'd leave door unlocked or ajar, just for the extra rush.
What would they do to me? *shivers*
Of course I knew, like everyone, but the /chance/ of being "caught" was the rush.
So I had this large apartment on the ground floor with this other guy who would often go off working with a large airline for weeks at a time. One night I new a thunderstorm was coming and I prepared.
I opened the bedroom window, made sure the curtains were closed though, and got down to it. I had scissors tied to a string that I could, eventually, pull up and unsnip myself with. I had pillows under
my pelvis to tilt my rump up "just so" and became enamored of cinch knots and soft rope.
I was well and truly helpless by the time the storm rolled in. Incredible lightning, thunder. I didn't count on the curtains blowing in from the open window so much, and occasionally saw cars going by.
One slowed down and the wind died down. I had a frission of fear/lust wondering if I'd been seen. Maybe I had, the car stayed out there a long time before going away.
I decided it was time, as the storm died down, to pull up the scissors. I did, slowly.
As I was getting them in my hand they clattered to the floor.
I pulled on the string, it was empty.
Okay now it was not shivers of "What will they do to me" but utter terror. I was good at self bondage, and that hard cock had made me helpless.
This was now a long dark night as the sun set and the storm left. I had an open window and someone could come in and do sexy /things/ to me, or just gut me like a fish and leave me a corpse.
I had a long time to think about things. Would I be alive when roomate came home? How would I explain this? Robbed? Raped?
You know...they say its not bondage until you want to get out and can't. Madness follows.
I fell asleep, I dreamed.
A lioness was curled up by the window, sharpening her claws with an emory board. "You better do something" she said.
I woke up hours later, I could tell because the candle (another no no today) I'd lit was out. I got frantic, and angry and started pulling on the ropes. By this point I was willing to chew off my hand, but
I was also sweaty and got one hand out with a hell of a lot of effort.
I still have a scar on my left hand between the pinky and wrist. I tell people I burned myself on an electric stove.
Its taken this long to get back here. But now I'm older and have enough money for ice locks.
What if I hadn't gotten out? Would I be writing this to you all now?
Play safe. Please.
I know I will.
Return To SB
Re: Return To SB
I had a scar in just in that spot for the same reason. It's healed up now, but it took a few years. If I see anyone else with one like that I'll wonder if they are into SB!Vanilla wrote:
I still have a scar on my left hand between the pinky and wrist. I tell people I burned myself on an electric stove.