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MJ-SB01/2011 – Home alone: Self-bondage seated enema
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MJ-SB01/2011 – Home alone: Self-bondage seated enema

At last - time alone to play some self-bondage games! It had been such a long time since I’d last tied myself up and ‘suffered’ an enema that even thinking about it in the weeks before had been such a turn on that I HAD to try it in my first scenario.

Equipment:
20den nude nylon long-sleeved catsuit
1 old pair black pantyhose
7 Tan 15den knee-highs
High-heeled ankle boots
Home-made enema plug, enema kit and 1ltr tepid water
Ball gag
Condom
Handcuffs
Rope
Folding chair

The session:

First things first – sorry, but no photos. Yes, I know I’d promised, but circumstances on this occasion made it very difficult to get a good shot and I was so keen to get started that I didn’t want to waste valuable time trying to figure out a solution.

Whenever I involve an enema in my self-bondage there is always a subtle element of risk to the scene; Will I be able to hold it in whilst I free myself? What happens if I can’t! I guess that is part of the thrill, but it does make me take a few extra precautions and, for now, limits me to the bathroom for my play.

I carefully chose my attire for the session, not wishing to risk my ‘best’ gear with the whole weekend ahead. Staring off with my usual condom and knee-high over cock, I proceeded to ensure my enema plug was safely and securely in place (I will post a separate dissertation on how I made this) and the tube running up my back to just above my head. I followed by pulling on an old pair of black pantyhose with a ‘cock-hole’ in the crotch and finally my old catsuit over the top, which saw me almost fully encased, with only my lower arms and head uncovered. I tightly laced my high-heeled boots on as a part of the predicament I was planning – more on that later!

This was to be a short session, but I did want to have some ‘real’ self-bondage, so for my release method I’d chosen the ‘long-string and key’. This is a very simple, but effective method - The idea is to firmly secure one end to whatever you are tied to (in this case my chair, but you can tie it to your body). You gain release by pulling the string back to you until you have the key or knife to free yourself with. The longer the string the longer you have to pull, the thinner and more slippery it is the harder it is to pull and the easier it is to slip form your hands forcing you to start over again. The only rules are that you must be able to reach the string nearest you with your hands (duh!) and you need to ensure the string can not become stuck when pulling it towards you (a little bit stuck can be fun, so long as it comes free before the string breaks!). I use a 10m length of thin nylon rope, which is supple, very slippery and also strong. I laid out the length through the open bathroom door and along the hallway, making sure the handcuff key was securely tied to the far end and the other end was tied firmly to the chair where I expected my cuffed wrists to be.

I primed the enema by hanging it around 1.5m above my seated position, bled the air from the pipe and clamped the open end as close to where I’d be tied as I could. I had positioned the chair as far from the toilet as possible (the bathroom is large, but not massive – so this was only around 3m or so, but I felt it added to my predicament anyway), and set about arranging all the remaining paraphernalia within easy reach.

Confident that nothing had been forgotten or left out of reach I sat down in a reversed position on the chair – with my chest against the backrest, legs down either side and my ass slightly over the front of the seat. First things first I connected the enema to my plug and released a little water, sufficient to blow a small bubble of air and a trickle of water into my colon… my body was already tingling with anticipation. I re-clamped the pipe above my head and set about binding my ankles to the chair.

I’d deliberately selected a long length of rope, and so I made 10 turns around my booted left ankle and a the left chair leg, cinching it twice, before bringing the rope up and over my thighs and then repeating the process on my right ankle and chair leg. I still had plenty of rope left in my hands so I ran the rope around the top of my thighs and under chair seat around 3 times and, on impulse, used the last meter or so to ties my waist as close to the chair back as I could manage. Though I was certain that the pipe running from the enema bag to my plug was strong enough to not be crushed by this last binding I released the clamp and was rewarded with a further trickle of water that confirmed all was well before I closed it again.

As I sat with my legs, thighs and waist tightly bound to the chair I was surprised to find myself trembling with a mixture of excitement and effort, sweat was appearing on my forehead and I realised, not for the first time, how much physical effort it took to set myself up in a self-bondage session. The anticipation was also building as a rushed to finish my bindings.

I love being gagged, so my head was quickly covered in 2 knee-highs, followed by a ball gag tightly buckled shut. Each hand and lower arm was then encased in a further pair of knee-highs to both left and right, all 4 pulled up and beyond my elbows to form a restrictive ‘mitten’ over each of my hands. Finally I was ready to commit to my total bondage. I ran a final check over my predicament and found it to be good…
The enema hose was looped down from the bag, in front of my head and then up again to its connection with the pipe down my back to the plug. A gentle pull brought the hose and clamp down to around waist level, but when released they swung back upwards and away from my body – perfect.

I cuffed my left wrist in front of the chair back, and pulled the right cuff and linking chain behind one of the waist ropes tied to the chair back to prevent any movement upwards (to the enema hose) or sideways. I re-checked that I could easily reach my ‘long-string and key’ escape and certain all was well I reached upwards with my right hand and gently pulled the enema hose clamp until I could grasp it in my left hand. This was more difficult than it sounds; the nylon of my knee-high mittens was very slippery and made the steel clamp feel like an oiled glass bead in my hands. Only when I was sure I’d got a good grip did I bring my right wrist down and ratchet the handcuff shut with a slow series of clicks.

I was now stuck until I retrieved the key, far away at the end of that length of string, but my predicament wasn’t yet complete. For many minutes I simply revelled in the helplessness of my situation, enjoying the strange freedom in my mind that always seems to contradict the bondage of my body. I strained each leg in turn, then my wrists, my waist and finally my whole body – nothing that was bound moved more than a few cm and I was well and truly tied in place.

Satisfied that I couldn’t wriggle free, even if I wanted to, I finally took a deep breath and released the clamp on the enema hose, tossing it far from my bound position. The released hose lifted upwards beyond any hope of reaching it and the water in the enema was free to flow. I was now bound to suffer the enema until I could retrieve the key, which I knew from experience was not going to be an easy task.

As with some of my previous enema experiences there was no sudden feeling of in-rushing fluids, in fact there was no sensation at all. Lulled by this I didn’t immediately begin the task of pulling my release key closer – in fact I became determined to hold for as long as possible before even starting. My suspicions now are that I must have, by lucky change or careful planning (guess which one) managed to match the enema to my body temperature, thus reducing the sensations at the early stages.

Having now enacted the final part of my predicament, I sat back to enjoy the ride.

My ball gagged mouth was leaking saliva through the double nylon skins over my bowed head, with the occasional drip of liquid downwards onto the tiled floor or onto my chest creating a damp stain over the fabric of my nylon catsuit if I leaned backwards. My position was comfortable, but restricted with my lower body, waist downwards, almost totally immobile and my wrists, secured in their steel handcuffs, limited to such a small degree of freedom that it was pointless. Only my shoulders, neck and head had any freedom.

Slowly, so very slowly, I finally began to feel the enema working its way inside me. It was a gentle pressure at first pressing on that magic spot and causing stirrings of an erotic nature. Maybe a minute or two later the pressure changed and became more ‘filling’, though no less pleasant and far from uncomfortable. I decided that now might be the time to see how my escape plan was working.

Struggling with my nylon covered fingers, made even clumsier by the twin layers and soft, silky, rope I fumbled for many seconds trying to grasp the release line in my hands. I finally found enough grip to start the retrieval of my handcuff key. I had set my challenge just right and every few seconds it seemed that I would feel the silken cord slip through my clumsy grasp leaving me to start over again.

With the sensations within my colon now becoming more demanding I finally found a way to pull the rope through my fingers, still numbed by the double skin of fabric, without dropping it. I managed to gain what felt like many metres, but what was in fact no more than 50cm, before I dropped my escape line once again.

Pausing for a moment I contemplated my self imposed fate – I could, just, see the clear enema hose above my head but the nylon covering hid the detail of if there was still a flow of fluids or not. Was I now as full as I would get or was there more of the enema to come? I didn’t know and found the sensation thrilling. Would I simply have to hold what I had until I freed myself or was there so much more to come that I would be cramped and desperate before I escaped? The feelings inside my body still hadn’t reached the urgent demands of immediate release, so I didn’t want to rush.

Back to my escape and I re-started the slow, cumbersome, task of working the rope a centimetre or so at a time through my encased fingers. This time I didn’t drop the rope, but the key snagged once or twice on the hallway carpet causing a momentary rush of adrenaline as I struggled to find enough purchase to overcome the obstinate blockage to freedom.

I don’t know how long it took me to finally grasp the key in my mitten clad fingers, maybe 10 minutes, maybe only 5 – it seemed much longer at the time. But there I sat, my freedom in my hand, and I paused…. I wasn’t desperate, yet, to be free. There were no urgent demands from my body to expel the enema deep inside. I quickly made a decision and threw the cord and its attached key as far away from my bound body as I could. I had decided to remain like this a while longer…

Once again there was an odd thrill in what I’d done by making the choice to stay bound for longer. I revelled in my self imposed helplessness and let my mind wander into fantasy and eroticism. I could, just, rub my encased nipples against the wooden chair back gaining a frustratingly pleasant sensation (guys: if you’ve never played with your own nipples, next time you’re aroused given them a tweak – it can be surprisingly erotic). I experimented again with my bound lower body, straining and pulling at the ropes and handcuffs tethering me to the chair. Wonderfully, I realised I was still utterly helpless and unable to even shift position more than a couple of cm in any direction. I couldn’t even manipulate the plug in my ass, though trying to do so did trigger a sensation that re-focused my attention to the reality of my situation.

The first, almost gentle, stirrings of the trapped enema had started to make themselves felt. I needed to seek freedom or could find myself in trouble. Once more I fumbled for what seemed an age to full the cord through my figures, dropping it twice, until the handcuff key was in my encased fingers. Actually manipulating the key into the cuff’s lock was a lot more difficult than I had imagined, but added a ‘certain something’ to my experience. It must have taken me some time to un-cuff my wrists because when they finally became free my enema was making itself felt in a much more intense manner.

Now the cunning plan of using a single long length of rope to bind myself to chair came into play. After removing the knee-highs from my hands I started to un-tie myself, but it all took time because I had to undo knots in a strict order, un-wrap one part of my body, then move to the next painstaking stage, and all of this was coupled with the increasing urgent reminders from my colon that the enema really wanted to be released (Could the waist rope have had something to do with that?).

Finally I was untied, but not quite free; I was still seated on the chair, so the full effect of the enema wouldn’t be felt until I stood up to move towards the waiting toilet. I knew that standing up would make my urges even more desperate, but I also knew from experience that after having my thighs spread and tied in the position I’d sat would mean my legs would be very stiff – plus I would be walking in high-heeled, metal tipped, boots across a tiled floor. Care would be needed to avoid a fall and speed was not an option (again this had been a small part of my plan – every little detail adds to the whole). After taking few deep breaths and massaging my thighs and legs I was ready to go. I’d spotted the hose clamp and needed to reach that first to prevent any spillage, so my initial teetering steps took me away from my ultimate destination but at least allowed me to re-close the enema hose (I also quickly checked that the bag was indeed empty). Now I undertook the undignified waddle across the bathroom floor, each step made treacherous by the ever present threat of slipping on my metal tipped heels on the tiles. I could have removed my boots, but the thought of taking that much time and the need to bend down to unlace them (I always lace them tightly and double-knot) wasn’t appealing at the time.

At last I reached my destination and after a moment or two to divest myself of the pantyhose, catsuit and (very carefully) the enema plug I was able to gratefully lower myself onto the toilet seat – it was only some minutes later that I realised I was still gagged!

What went well?

So much: I’d set out to give myself a enema whilst bound and had succeeded. My planned predicament worked very well and the sensations I felt during the session where all amazing.

What could be improved?

I want to experiment with enemas, with volumes being the easiest to change. I read in the forum of members taking much greater quantities of liquids that I usually do. I guess we all have our individual capacity or enjoyable limits, so I will be looking for opportunities in the near future to see what mine are. Enema recipes and temperatures are other area of interest, I generally use something at body temperature (to my touch) and purified water (boiled and left to cool), but have added a little salt or pure soap in the past – to be honest I couldn’t ‘feel’ any difference. Suggestions are welcome here, especially on an enema that can be safely retained (don’t forget, I will be bound!) and is easy to prepare without attracting attention from my GF!

Some timed release of the enema that also triggers the start of my release form self-bondage. I could use ice timers for this, but experience has shown there to be unacceptable variances in when the keys drop or enema is released. At my current level of enema experience (defiantly see myself to still be a ‘novice’) I’m concerned about too long a delay between the enema starting and being able to gain freedom – I don’t yet know what my limits are above 5-10 minutes, which is when I usually make my escape. But the idea of an enema ‘suddenly’ starting at some point after I’ve become bound and being unable to control when exactly that happens is very, very exciting. Another advantage of this would be that I could more easy add a blindfold to my session, no longer needing to see the clamp and hose to set up the enema release.

A longer ‘long-string’ is perhaps the easiest modification. Even the apparently long length I used in this session was, ultimately, easy to retrieve (twice over). So a longer length, maybe over 30m, would be a simple improvement. But that brings it’s own challenges, not least finding such a long length of suitable rope and also ensuring it doesn’t tangle or become snagged (I think zigzagging it up and down the hallway would work). I also might experiment with different materials, such as fisherman’s nylon line. This has a very fine diameter, which would be very challenging to manipulate through my double encased fingers, can be purchased in long lengths (100m plus!) and can be very strong (I recommend a minimum 10kg, and would avoid anything less). The one disadvantage is that it seems prone to twisting up on itself, which could lead to tangles.

Maybe I could somehow combine the long-string’ with the timed enema release - now that is a thought!

And finally – one fantasy thought I had during the session is to somehow involve another type of forced fluid intake, namely the forced swallowing of some fluid through my gagged mouth. I blame this on Ra, and his very erotic ‘Self-bondage Hotel Session 62. Lots of Latex and Water or Do not move!’ when he used a predicament to ‘force’ just such a consumption of fluids upon his helpless body. I suspect I don’t currently don’t have the equipment I need for this, and would also have to practise safely first (I don’t want to choke on what I’m having to drink!), the thought though remains a very erotic one and again I welcome suggestions and ideas on how I might achieve it.

And so concludes my first real session of 2011 – I enjoyed it and hope you enjoyed my retelling to.

I will be posting my other sessions very soon and I promise they will have photos for those who like the accompaniment of visual imagery.

Play safe

MJ
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