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MJ-SB05/2010: A night of unexpected SB (part 1) - The Vacuum Chair revisited
MJ-SB05/2010: A night of unexpected SB (part 1) - The Vacuum Chair revisited

Leg Avenue long sleeved body stocking (Nude)
Black turtle neck, long sleeved lycra body
Black Aristoc 40den pantyhose (with hole in gusset)
3 pairs Tan 20den pantyhose
7 x Tan 15den knee-highs
High-heeled ankle boots
Large butt-plug
Duct tape
Ear plugs
Breather tube
Vacuum cleaner
Large plastic bag
Elastic band
Towel & pillows
Digital timer
Sock covered tube

OK – this is a large posting, so why not grab yourself a drink before reading any further or maybe slipping into something more appropriate (or possibly, slipping something more appropriate in?!) – Anyway, you have been warned!

The session:

This was an unexpected and unplanned for opportunity, my GF was going away at very short notice and I would have the house to myself for a whole night! With such short notice any SB was going to have to use what I had in my bag of delights (which could be the subject of a thread in its own right) and so I set about having some fun!.
Some of you might recall my earlier postings about vacuum SB (MJ-SB01/2010), so I won’t re-state all the warnings and such – but, if you’ve not read about that session please do so before even thinking about attempting anything like this.

The time was around 15:00 on Saturday when I finally got started (so many chores to do around the house) though I had been fantasising most of the day.

First thing to do was check out my vacuum cleaner and plastic bag. This was a brand new cleaner, brought to replace one of the two that had expired recently (NOT through SB activities I hasten to add!). The fate of one machine did heighten the safety aspects of our fetish once again – I was happily (err?) vacuuming away in the house when with a very noisy electrical discharge the cleaner suddenly stopped. Thick acrid smoke billowed out from the vents and I had to swiftly unplug the wretched thing and get it outside before the house was filled with fumes or worse! Imagine if that had happened whilst I was helplessly bound! An autopsy revealed the cause of death was a build up of dust (Duh?!) around the motor and a short circuit in the windings – It was an old machine and, you might say, it died well, doing its duty for the purposes it was designed.

Bearing in mind its predecessors fate, the new vacuum cleaner had to be thoroughly stress tested before I was going to chance anything. This also helped me check out the plastic bag for leaks (always seem to get a few rips or holes during a session and, more bizarrely, in storage), prove my ideas for preventing ‘suck-in’ (like a blow-out but caused when the vacuum sucks the bag into the area under the chair, between its legs, and the vacuum bursts the plastic inwards) and, finally, test my timer.

I visually checked the bag, finding one significant hole and two burst seams (at the join between the two bags I have used to make a very large one), these were fixed with duct tape – much more repair work and I’ll have more tape than bag! The bag was set on the floor, rolled down and open, to allow, firstly, a towel (to protect the plastic from chairs legs and heels) and then the chair to be placed inside – ensuring the breather tube was facing forwards. I then fixed the vacuum cleaner pipe under the chair, between the folds of the towel and sealed the bag around it. Next I stuffed the space under the chair with pillows from the bed (to prevent a suck-in), for the test I used the duvet from the bed to mimic myself on the chair and finally, after sealing both the breather pipe (with duct tape and me safely on the out-side!) and the bag itself (elastic band) I was good to go. The vacuum cleaner has a simple adjustment to the amount of ‘suck’ through sliding a plastic opening between fully closed and a ~1cm square opening – I elected to set it to the minimum suck for my trial.

Photo of the set-up  SB05_01.JPG   

The timer was set for a 1min run and I sat back to see how things went.
The vacuum cleaner performed really well, running for the full cycle and no overheating or other problems, the bag fared less well with a few missed holes showing up (all fixed with more duct tape), but overall the test was very successful and I was good to go.

Time to get ready (now nearly 16:00) – time to get dressed for fun!

Butt-plug first, followed by the usual attire (5 layers of nylon in total on my legs – yum!), with the turtle neck body completing, for now, my covering layer. Most surprisingly, when I was dressed, I wasn’t actually feeling turned on! Which, given how excited I was about the pending session, came as a bit of a shock. Easy enough to fix, a short session on the PC would find enough stimulation to raise my passion.

Funny how some things don’t quite work how you plan…

With the windows in the room containing my PC facing out onto a busy street, curtains open and broad daylight, I chose to cover my fetish attire with a more ‘normal clothing’ style of t-shirt and jeans; protecting the pantyhose over my feet with a pair of trainers (I’d not put on my heels yet). Maybe it’s just me, but I do get a kick out of wearing pantyhose under everyday clothes, feeling it rub against another material. Each movement bringing a thrill of doing something ‘perverted’ and no-one knows – adding a butt-plug is a bigger thrill and hiding my long-sleeved body as well was very exciting. I did check in a mirror and thought I looked rather smart with what appeared to be a black polo-neck t-shirt under a v-neck top and the compression of the body plus pantyhose flattering (flattening?) my out of condition stomach; Très chic, non?

Narcissistic tendencies apart, I was feeling both good and sexy – so of to the internet I went.

Now, we all know that times flies by when you’re having fun, but I was startled to find that at 17:30 I still hadn’t actually done anything about entrapping myself in my self-bondage scene.

My ardour was once again low (even after so much time on my favourite sites – does too much of a ‘good thing’ result in some sort of de-sensitising? I am beginning to think it might) , but this time I just wanted to be helpless and the physical sexual excitement could wait.

Back at my awaiting equipment I quickly shed my veneer of ‘normality’ and laced on my heels – as always they work a strange magic in me and, not for the first time, I almost felt transformed from my everyday self into someone totally different, free from the constraint of prudish and ill-informed mass conformity. Gathering the final items I required I moved into the room where the vacuum was set up.

For my first ‘real’ test run I intended to try a set-up that had worked previously, with only a few minor modifications. Firstly I used the duct tape to seal my mouth completely, smoothing down the edges and using a mirror to ensure the tape was covering the areas I needed it to. Next, with the help of the mirror and a small pair of sharp scissors, I teased open a small slot that I could just fit a small breather tube through. This tube is, through chance not design, the perfect size to be pushed into the breather tube aeady attached to the vacuum bag. My first modification of the session had been to trim both tubes to a shorter length, affecting a neater finish to them when they where joined (the smaller pushes about 3cm inside the larger and has an internal diameter of 8mm – which is about as small as I would like to go). With the gag in place I pushed in my earplug, making sure they went in a far as possible, the I pulled two laddered knee-highs over my head, feeding the tip of the breather tube through the damaged material and then pulling them down, one inside and the final one outside the neck of the black top to create an encased feeling over my entire body.

Happy that I could breath freely through my mouth, though somewhat reduced by the diameter of the pipe, I pushed onwards. I tucked 4 knee-highs (two for each arm) into the leg openings of the body, toe ends hanging down, for easy access and use later. I fixed a strong elastic band over my right wrist and, finally, picked up the remote for the video recorder (which, amazingly, I’d got set up and ready).

Encased and gagged  SB05_02.JPG   

I double checked the set-up and timer one last time: timer set to switch on in 7 minutes, no other programmes set (you must check for unexpected events if your timer has more than one program!), run on for 1 minute and then off. The vacuum was switched on, suction power at low and the duct tape had been removed from the end of the breather pipe in the plastic vacuum bag (nearly forgot that!).

Time to go…

Using the video remote to start things going (a single chirp announced recording had started), I stepped into the bag. Taking extreme care to avoid stabbing through the delicate plastic with my metal tipped heels, I manoeuvred myself into position on the chair; my legs where spread wide to run parallel to vertical front legs of the chair and my bum and back pushed as firmly to the back of the chair as possible. Reaching down I gathered the plastic and pulled the whole bag upwards until I reached my chest. For safety I always ensure the breather pipe goes in before I pull the bag above head height. The newly trimmed pipes sealed together perfectly, though I needed to bite down on the pipe in my mouth to prevent it being pushed backwards as it slid snugly inside the other – male to female, if you understand what I mean. After checking my breathing was still un-impaired I moved to seal the back over my body.

Getting inside the bag  SB05_03.JPG   

I pulled the bag upwards again until I had cleared both my head and the sock-covered tube that I’d attached to the chair back earlier. This tube has two roles: firstly it acts as an airway to allow the vacuum to be effective around my head and not just lower down (you can sometimes experience the bag sealing itself together too low down and not over your whole body) and secondly I wanted it to hold my head upright and in position, restricting my movement further. I sealed the open top by gathering the edges of the bag together, twisting the ‘neck’ then doubling it over before finally slipping the elastic band off my wrist and looping it many times over the ‘neck’ to hold everything closed.

Closing the seal  SB05_04.JPG   

As always I wasn’t sure how much time I had before the timer switched on; I’d considered placing a large faced clock in sight of where I sat, but being short-sighted, with two layers of nylon over my head and a semi opaque plastic bag over that I reckoned I would see much anyway and resolved to enjoy the unknown of waiting. However, I knew I needed to get moving and so, by touch, I quickly pulled the remaining knee-highs from their temporary home and pulled them on, right arm first and then left – two layers on each, pulled as far up each arm as I could to create both a restrictive mitten over my hands and also to complete my encasement in nylon and lycra. (I had accidently left the video remote on the chair, next to my crotch, inside the bag).

Now I could only wait. My sight restricted so that there where only vague shapes beyond the sharp focus of the plastic, plugged ears deadening the rustling of the bag to a whisper, just the rushing sound of blood and my barely controlled breathing intruding on my waiting. I initially breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, seeking to empty the bag by my own efforts, ahead of the vacuum itself. ‘Breathe steady’ I think to myself, ‘through you mouth’ I silently add. The temptation to breath easy through my nose is great, but now risky; I do not know how long the air inside the bag will remain oxygen saturated enough for my needs – when I accidently revert to drawing a great lungful of air through my nostrils I feel almost giddy. Is it lack of oxygen or pure adrenaline – I do not know, but vow to mouth breathe only from now on.

Waiting  SB05_05.JPG   

Time passed…

I fidgeted and re-position my hands; should I extend my fingers and arms so that they run down the rear legs of the chair, like my legs at the front, or should I bunch my fists, or even try to grasp one wrist to the other behind the chair back? I experiment in my mind with many options but decide that vertically straight, parallel to the chairs rear legs with fingers outstretched will be my position.
With an alarming cacophony of noise the vacuum cleaner suddenly starts into life – within the bag it suddenly seems so loud after the previous silence.

The bag crackles as it shrinks, initially moving slowly to brush, pull, envelop and finally clamp down around my nylon covered body. My legs are first, transforming from free to and all embracing encasement in less than 5 seconds, my waist follows, then my upper body and finally my head. Suddenly I am wrapped in an unyielding membrane, I can’t move anything – my bondage is complete.

I assess my situation;

Breathing – OK, but controlled. Each breath in through the pipe (my only contact with the outside world, is an effort. Not uncomfortable, expanding my chest is like working against a weight and the small, life sustaining, aperture of the pipe is sufficient for my needs.

Legs – fixed and helpless. I try to flex them but can hardly do more than make a muscle movement; they will not shift inside their plastic prison.

Body & arms – clamped tightly to the chair frame. I marvel once more at the effects of my vacuum self-bondage, I can manage some slight movement, aided by the slipperiness of nylon against plastic, but I am never free from the cloying like grip of the vacuum, with fingers now inside a triple covering of materials.

Head – feeling compressed. It is hard to describe the sensation of having my head trapped inside the shrunken wrap of plastic and nylon. My sight is lost, eyes forced almost shut by the pressure of plastic against them, my hearing had been deadened even further then by the ear-plugs. The roar of the vacuum is little more than a muted hum in a far distant place; lost to me in the same way my freedom is gone.

I drift now, senses either overloaded or simply shut down – I revel in my splendid isolation.

Trapped and loving it  SB05_06.JPG   

I try movement, there is some, but nothing of any consequence – I am in the most complete of bondages I could imagine. Suddenly, much too suddenly, the vacuum is gone – the bag rustles again and a cool draught of air flows over my sweating body. I pull myself free from the almost sticky embrace of plastic, like I would expect to feel in a vat of sticky toffee or treacle. I am fighting the remaining vacuum to reach the sealed neck of the bag, eventually reaching it and releasing both the elastic band and myself.

I assume the vacuum must have over-heated:, surely that was never a full minute? I check the video recording and time – it was a full 60 seconds! Amazing!! It felt like no more than 10 had passed – and the machine is cool to the touch. I have to go again – for longer, the urge is too great to resist.

A quick re-programme brings a new element to my session. The timer is now set for 2 minutes on, 2 minutes off and then 5 minutes on. I shall see if I can cope with the 2 minutes and then, if uncomfortable or worried will have time to be free. Or I can wait and suffer a second cycle for much longer than ever before. I am actually trembling with excitement at the thought.

I also made few changes to my situation. I needed my mouth to be fully gagged and filled. The solution was to take a pair of tights, wrap them around the pipe (like a ball), force the combination into my mouth and then seal everything in place with tape, leaving only the shortest length of pipe showing outwards.

For some reason that I can’t fully explain I also needed rope around my wrists. There is something about that feeling that just ‘does it’ for me. It was an easy option to select my favourite coil of ‘wrist rope’ that was aeady pre-tied in the correct length.

And finally I wanted to try a form of stimulation. This, naughtily, will come from my GF’s little ‘rabbit’ vibrator retrieved from it’s bedside home (OK – it was the only one with batteries in!). Ready to start, I resumed and repeated the positioning of my first session.

Disaster! The bag split after around 30 seconds, bringing the attempt to a premature end and leaving me with a hasty bit of repair work. Ready again, I resumed my seated position.

I had, after the aborted run, decided that for the first 2 minute cycle I would apply neither rope nor vibrator – just in case it was all too much for me.

I sat, I waited…

Again the vacuum sprang into life, shattering the un-natural calm of my bagged existence. The bag clamped down and around upon me, once more I was forced into its merciless embrace.

Time passes and I experiment again with my bonds; I can move my head (disappointingly given my design to prevent such freedom) I can also flex my body, but only in the smallest manner. Every moment of freedom is instantly and forcefully followed by a renewed clamping of the plastic to return my body to its self imposed helplessness.

Too quickly, way too quickly, the 2 minutes are up and I have a choice to make – break free or await a fresh imprisonment. Unsurprisingly I choose the later…

Without undoing the neck seal I struggle to move my arms around within the airless bag, even without the suction I am restrained by my plastic cocoon. I reach for the vibrator, trying to guess how much time I have left before the cycle of self-bondage returns. Quickly I switch the small machine on and tuck it into the black Lycra of my body, positioning it directly over my encased cock. Reaching for the rope coil, I pass the pre-tied loops behind the chair and over each wrist. I pause, knowing that this final step will be far beyond any vacuum bondage session I have tried before. My hands, once bound, will be truly trapped and useless to me – before I could, only just, move my hand enough to punch through my controlling membrane, but not if I add this bondage. I hesitate no longer, lost to my lust for helplessness, and with twists of each wrist tighten the loops until even without the vacuum my arms are helplessly restrained tightly to the rear of the chair.

I try to calm myself with measured breathing; Breathe in, count to 5, breathe out again, count to 5 – breathing in is oddly easier that breathing out, I struggle to understand why and try to use my tongue, trapped under the sodden ball of nylon sealed within my mouth, to check the opening of pipe is clear. I realise I am trembling ever so slightly - is it fear? Or is it excitement? Or could it be both?

Too late – the vacuum has powered up and this time there is hardly more than a handful of seconds before my fate has been sealed.

I nearly panic as I imagine my attempts to exhale are in vain – I am ok, I just have to calm myself again, steady my breathing and relax. Once more I measure my breathing and settle my emotions.

Deep breath in… pause… Forced breath out… pause…. Deep breath in…
I’m ok - the brief panic has passed, leaving me both relived and excited. I know I’m trapped in my vacuum bondage now, for far longer than ever before. The feeling is intense; my wrists are secured by rope, the vacuum making a normally simple bondage far more constraining and release impossible.

Assessing my situation I realise how totally I have given up control of my body and how isolated I have become. I am encased twice, the inner layer is a mix of warm, silky, nylon and lycra, and the outer a cool skin of plastic. I have plugged or blocked every opening I have, bar one; my ass is stuffed with a large butt plug, my cock is sealed by a condom, knee-high and then everything else on top, my ears a filled with foam, my nostrils (even under their nylon layers) blocked by the plastic skin, my eyes forced almost closed by the same vice like grip are useless to me and my mouth is packed with wadded nylon, tapped shut and sealed again by the vacuum. My tongue moves to explore the only access I have to the outside world and I discover that the material of the mouth filling tights has indeed covered the open end of the pipe. So now even to breathe I must pass through an encasing layer.

Blissfully bound with a buzzing friend (can you spot it?)  SB05_07.JPG   

I am so totally helpless and so utterly calm that for long moments I simply let my mind drift. It is the buzzing of the forgotten vibrator that draws me back from my almost trance like state. The vacuum has forced it to move position and it is not as stimulating at I would have wished, but I am not disappointed – to climax now would spoil the moment.
I test my restraint, seeking any element that may offer freedom – not that I seek release, but that I can’t really believe my self-bondage is so complete. My head can move, a little, and my chest and stomach also can expand as I draw in lung filling air from outside (outside: just a small room, in a small house – but a world away from my confined position). Even my breathing is only a tiny movement, when I exhale the plastic clings and pulls back against my lycra covered body leaving no gaps and remaining as tight as ever. These moments, when I forget and breath out through my nose do not have as much impact on my shrink wrapped head as I would have expected and any attempt to breath in through my nostrils is utterly futile, so quickly is the exhaled air sucked away from my head.

By flexing my body I can move a little, but there is no chance of release only the smallest of change in position and then a renewed clamping to my new stance. I experiment with seeking stimulation by attempting to ‘hump’ the plug in my ass and move the vibrator over my cock. The results are both pleasing and, delightfully, frustratingly futile. With great effort I can expel the plug by what feels no more than a centimetre or so before it is forced back inside. I enjoy the sensation, but the effort is great and I can’t sustain the motion for very long. The vibrator is a lost cause, nothing I do will move it and it remains a faint sensation with no chance to take me further towards any kind of sexual release.

I can move my feet! Just a little, but I can actually point my boot clad toes downwards against the floor. I rock the chair backwards slightly, testing how much movement I can achieve. A thought occurs to me that I am backed into the corner of the room and could, possibly, tilt myself backwards so that I was balanced in an even more helpless position on the rear legs of the chair. I abandon caution and any fears for my safety and do my very best to topple backwards – all in vain.

I really am helpless until the vacuum cleaner switches of and releases me…

All too soon, oh way too soon, the 5 minutes is over and with a click and dying whirr I feel the vacuum relax it’s grip upon me. I struggle, as if wrapped in a wet sheet, to pull my arms free of rope, nylon sheaths and plastic, before finally releasing air back into the plastic cell of my bondage.

I am hot, soaked in sweat, feeling utterly ecstatic at the success of my plan and the wonderful, utterly amazing experience I’ve just gone through. I am not finished for the night – but must take a moment to refresh myself and dream up more scenarios for later.

What went well?

So much! It was one of those (all too) rare occasions when the results exceeded my expectations and left me in a state of happy self-bondage bliss! The addition of a small loop of rope made an incredible different to my experience and raised the feeling of helplessness far more than I had expected.

I managed to have a session with 99.9% encasement in nylon and lycra and not one square mm of bare flesh touched the plastic – fantastic!
Also, and I appreciate some will find this not at all sexy and possibly quite scary, the restriction of my breathing also added something I found incredibly erotic – I do not, and I must stress this, mean that I would want to try true breath-play; that is something that is way too risky and a SB ‘no-no’ in my opinion. But being forced to breathe through that small pipe and the focus required to steady my breathing (preventing hyperventilation?) was very intense.

The set-up I used seems to have resolved all the previous issues I had with the vacuum automatically cutting out when it over-loaded/over-heated and has removed the need for a complex one-way valve and timed release solution that I had considered creating (see earlier posts) – another great bonus!

Finally the isolation element was, for the first time I recall, an incredible experience: Having never really tried things like isolation or sensory deprivation before, the result of my sessions where both unexpected and enjoyable.

What could be improved?

A longer session! I’m sure this set-up would be fine for 10mins or even longer. The vacuum cleaner showed no signs of getting hot and, with the use of the cleaner’s mechanical valve (plastic slide over a hole in the pipe handle) it was not being stressed – result!

A chair with arms; I could use a chair with arms, so that my own arms would be held horizontally in position. This idea intrigues me and will be one I shall attempt soon. My only concern is about how the vacuum bag will be affected by the additional structure and if this will reduce the clamping across my legs and lower body.

A stronger plastic bag: there are 2 reasons for this improvement; firstly the bag would be more durable and less prone to damage (by heels, chair legs, etc) and secondly that I imagine the actual effect on my body would be even more intense. On the second point there is a slight reservation – if the plastic is too thick then it wouldn’t ‘fit’ as well as my current bag does (in the same way that thick pantyhose can wrinkle where a fine stretchy denier does not), so a happy compromise is needed. I think ‘pallet covers’ or ‘hoods’ (not the ‘sheets’ which only lay over the top) might fit the bill, but they are an expensive luxury I can’t afford right now.

Arranging the plastic bag in a more aesthetic manner; I didn’t notice anything from the inside, but my video showed up how the creases rather spoilt the visual effect for any viewer. I need to fix that for my next recorded adventure.

Improvements to gag/breather pipe; though I really got a kick from the gag and pipe arrangement I used in this session, it does seem crude and I’m looking for an improved version. Swimming snorkels offer some ideas and so do scuba diving mouth-pieces (anatomical ones sound very good) but they will require new pipes and such and all add expense that I currently can afford or justify. I will also try to purchase a new ball, which can be drilled to allow the small breather pipe to be inserted and create a breathe-thru ball gag. I will also think again about trying one of those inflatable breathe-through gags Ra has in his collection.

Encasement of my head; the knee-highs worked brilliantly, but I’m sure I can do better than simply poking through a laddered piece of nylon. My solution needs to be tight fitting, with only the smallest stretchy opening for the breather pipe – preferably ladder resistant and defiantly not so opaque that I can’t see through it.

There you have Part 1 of my latest self-bondage odyssey – in Part 2 I will retell a tale of woe and also frustration as my vacuum bondage session changes shape and my good fortune takes a turn for the worse…

Hope you enjoyed the telling (long-winded though it may seem) the photos. I would also like to apologise for the manner in which I have sometimes mixed the tenses up in my re-telling – I shall claim it is because some of my memories are so vivid and exciting it is like I was really back in my self-bondage once more (that's my excuse anyway!)

Play safe and have fun

Effing cool or what?
Great story!
(16 Oct 2010, 22:42 )culmor Wrote: Effing cool or what?
Great story!

Hey Culmor

Glad you enjoyed it - I know I did! 😁

I appreciate the feedback, which has been a little slow on this posting... waybe not to everyone's tastes?🤔

Any-how: I am trying to find time to post Part 2, but am frustrated by work and a glitch in my video software - I know you folks enjoy pictures! 😋

Hopefully will be sorted out this week and I might be able to post not only the story and photo's but also a video or two. They will probably be 'warts and all' as they say - editing was never my strong point ☺


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