This is a breath play scenario where I rely on being optimal with my air consumption. I have performed this many times without problem in the past, however, this time was different, and just about cost me my life. It is only luck that let me breath another day.
The stage is set as follows…
1. Clear plastic enclosure suit with fully enclosed hood.
http://www.kinky-clothes.com/store/enclo...p-152.html
2. A breathing hole to the left of center, just large enough to allow air flow at a relaxed state, secured with a 2 inch square of vinyl tape to avoid tearing of the plastic.
3. An exhale hole at the back of the hood, just below the hair line, allowing air to escape quickly, but to block against the neck as air is taken in.
4. Feet and knees secured together with belts.
5. Hands secured behind back, secured with belts and key lock.
6. Key for lock in the basement, two floors down.
7. Rope secured to railing at the top floor of the house.
8. The rope has a section in the middle looped back to shorten the rope to half its length, secured with key lock
9. Key for this lock at a mid-point on the stairs, positioned at the end of the rope.
10. Other end of rope secured to belt around my neck.
There are two safety mechanisms:
1. Use my incisor (canine) teeth to grab the plastic, then lift my head (look up) to tear it open.
2. Scissors taped to my back using vinyl tape for security, to cut through the rope, and to the belt binding my hands.
The scenario involves having to first get the key on the stairs, unlock the loop in the rope, so that I can reach the main key in the basement, which has the key to unlock the waist level harness and free my hands.
For the setup, I first secured the shortening loop lock, then took the rope end and placed the loop lock key on the step that the rope extended to. I hadn't noticed it yet, but the rope ran over the railing at the bend of the stairs during this test, making it a bit longer, which will cause an issue later. I went down to the basement and tossed the main key of the harness lock on the carpeted floor. I put the scissors on the back of the plastic enclosure suit and taped it with two strips of vinyl tape in an "X" pattern just above where my hands would be secured in the harness.
I began the scenario by putting on the plastic suit, zipping it closed, and securing a notched belt around my neck, then latching the end of the rope to the belt. I secured my legs together at the feet and the knees, and put the harness around my waist and locked it. I then sat on the bed to relax as my breathing had increased. I began to notice the effect of reduced air flow, causing the plastic hood to tighten around my head and face as I inhaled. The hole blocks against my cheek unless I rotate my head to the left before inhaling. If I miss this step, I must then exhale enough air to either allow my head to rotate within the hood, or use my tongue to push away the plastic so the hole doesn’t block. This was a good moment to test the exhale hole’s usefulness in removing bad air quickly. Everything was working to plan so far. After ten minutes, my breathing slowed and I was ready to begin.
I positioned my hands behind my back, pushed them through the belt loops, then verified that I could reach the lock and the scissors. I then stepped on the end of the belt strap, and stood up to tighten the loops. I was now quite secure. The time was 8:00 pm and it was summer, so the daylight would remain until 10:00 pm, which was key (pun totally intended) to my escape. Unknown to me at the time, I missed an important detail in the preparation; turning on the basement light. This is quite valuable when you must find a key sitting on a basement floor.
Scenario goal #1
My first goal was to acquire the key on the main floor stairway which removes the loop that shortens the rope. I began to crawl toward the stairway down the hall, and in only a few seconds, had to stop because more air was needed than was arriving through the hole. I took a short break. As I descended down the stairs, I felt a strong tug on the belt around my neck. I had reached the end of the rope length before expected. This is when I hit my first snag. Because the rope now went around the railing rather than over it, as it was during the test, it wasn’t along enough to allow my hands to reach the key, just my feet. Moving the rope over the railing was the only way around this, which meant I had to climb back to the top of the stairs, stand up, and try lifting the rope with my hands or my mouth. I decided to abandon the scenario.
My first safety was to use the scissors taped behind my back to cut the rope and harness, so I reached up my back and pulled down to remove the scissors from the tape, only to find that the tape simply wasn't letting go. I then realized that the vinyl tape was strong, and I had not properly tested its adhesion properties before performing the scenario. I could not remove the scissors, nor could I tear the plastic with my fingers. I was also handicapped by the positioning of my hands, since I could only use one hand at a time for this maneuver. With this safety gone, I had no choice but to complete the entire scenario.
To make the rest of the scenario more bearable, I went for the second safety, which was to tear the plastic with my teeth so I could more easily breath. I inhaled to pull the plastic into my mouth so that I could bite down, and then lifted my head to tear it open. The problem was that the belt around my neck was not as tight as usual, so the plastic, now wet from sweat, slid between the belt and my neck, not offering any resistance. I would not tear. I quickly realized that I was in serious trouble, since I had no other safety mechanisms left, and I had to complete the scenario to get the release key in the basement.
My first attempt was to reach the key with my feet, and grab it with my toes. The risk was to knock the key further down the stairs, thus no escape possible. The only reason I considered this was because I now realized my mistake of basement lighting and needed to get through this scenario before dark. I began to position my feet slowly toward the step holding the key. The rope was now pulling on the belt around my neck. I used my hands to secure my position on the stairs so I could fine-tune my feet near the key and feel around. Because of sweat buildup, my hands slipped in the plastic and I jerked down one step, causing me to momentarily hang myself. I had to pull my feet back and push up on the step to regain my position and loosen the belt around my neck. In doing so, I needed more air than I could take in. This was my first bad moment as I was having a hard time breathing. I held still, keeping my feet on the step and holding my position, while I gasped for air, feeling the plastic tighten on my head and face over and over. After five minutes or so, I was back to normal, and ready to continue. Something was odd though. The rate at which air escaped was very slow, and only seemed to go out the front hole. I then realized that the rear hole was now covered by the belt, which had been pulled up during the hanging. This was serious, since I bad air needed to escape quickly. I jerked my head forward several times, hoping that the hole would expose, and it did.
At this point, I didn’t know whether I had knocked the key down the stairs during the struggle, which worried me. I slowly began to work my way to the top of the stairs in order to re-position the rope over the railing. Sweat had built up making the plastic much more slippery now. This meant that I had to struggle more to maintain positioning on the stairs, and thus, needing more air. It took me more than 45 minutes to get back up the stairs. It was now probably after 9:30 pm since the light was at its usual dusk tone, and fading quickly.
I reached the top of the stairs and now had to stand up. This was not easy. The combination of wet plastic, plus the knee belt was tight, making it almost impossible to bend my legs more than a few degrees. The only thing that worked was to put my back along the wall and push against the railing with my feet. My torso would inch up until I was standing. So I began, but I needed air very quickly, but had to continue. Since the plastic was being pulled down my back by the wall's friction, the exhale hole was almost immediately covered. I was at the half way point when I realized that I had to stop to regain oxygen. Beyond a certain threshold of CO/2 accumulation, there’s no going back. I had to hold that position for five minutes (at least it seemed that long, no way to really know). It was at this moment when I feared to black out since the panic instinct was kicking in and sounds began to be slightly muffled. I tried pulling my hands through the belt loops, which I did in previous experiences like this, since slippery plastic is like oil. In this case however, the belt was quite secure. There was only waiting and relaxing. I let myself fall back to the floor and hoped I would be ok. An eternity went by but then I could feel that things were improving and that my breathing was now less panicked and my hearing was restored. This time, however, heaving my head forward didn’t help the exhale hole, and the hood was now more tightly fitting.
I had no choice but to grab the key with my toes, if it was still there. I began to go back down the stairs, breathing regularly to avoid passing out. If that happened, it would mean hanging myself since there was no way to hold my position. I arrived at the end of the rope and began to feel for the key with my big toe. There is nothing more difficult than trying to feel something through wet plastic. I realized that pressing down on the carpet was the only way, since the key was hard and would offer contrasting resistance. I began, inch by inch, in a matrix pattern, all the while feeling the plastic tighten around my head over and over while I struggled for air. Hope began to fade as I neared the center of the step, thinking there was no key to be found here. Shortly thereafter, the key! Now that I knew the position, I could take a break and gather air, so I pulled my feet up and sat on the step, leaning my head against the wall.
The thought of darkness caused me stress, since I tossed the key on the basement floor and didn’t really take notice of where it landed. My intention was to see it when I arrived, and therefore, why bother knowing where it is. Part of the excitement. Another worry was having to go up those stairs yet again to remove the loop lock, now that the exhale hole was no longer functioning. Then it hit me, something even worse; if the rope wasn’t long enough to get this key, then it could also be too short to reach the key on the basement floor. This meant that I either had to move the rope over the railing, or try to see if the rope was long enough, and if not, only then move the rope… but… this meant going all the way back up two flights of stairs and redoing over half the scenario. I needed time to think, and since it had become dark, time was no longer an issue.
My decision was to move forward and to see if the rope was long enough, since there were only sixteen inches missing for my hands to reach the key on the steps. My breathing now had become constantly strained due to the lack of exhale hole. I re-positioned myself and began to descend the stairs to reach the key. I put my foot at the position of the key, and began to slide it toward me, so I could grip it with my toes. I managed to get a good grip, but as I began to pull my feet up, my hands slipped and I slid down the stairs again and hung myself. I needed to keep a grip on the key while pulling up my feet to then push up and loosen the belt around my neck. I managed to accomplish this, but again, my air supply was in serious trouble and I had to gain control and not black out. I tried again to pull my hands through the belt loops, no dice, but now needed even more air. A serious situation; if I stayed there and blacked out, I would slide down the stairs and hang myself. If I hurried to the top of the stairs, then I will certainly black out. I took my chances and simply inhaled as hard as I could and pushed like hell to let air out. Once again I began to feel panic, but had to resist the instinct to pull on my hands or struggle. Focus was on the rhythm of plastic tightening and loosening around my head, keeping my head slightly left turned to have freer access to the intake hole. My hearing was muffled and my mind was simply focused on one thing; do not black out.
An eternity passed, once again, but I was able to avoid blacking out. Oh damn, where's the key? I realized that I no longer had it gripped between my toes, but I did quickly find it on the step, one higher than it was originally. I now had to pull it up two more steps in order to grab it by my hands. This proved to be easier than before, because it was higher up now, and I no longer needed full extension to grab it. The key was finally in my hands. This moment felt good, if only briefly, as I remembered the rope length issue. I slowly made my way to the top of the stairs, took the lock in my left hand, and unlocked it with the key, making sure the rope was totally clear of the lock.
My next task was to regain use of the exhale air hole, since my rate of breathing was extremely high and was causing serious discomfort. The idea was to lay on my back, push downwards toward my feet, then push my head back on the carpet and look up, thus pulling the plastic upwards. After several maneuvers, I was able to pull the plastic far enough to expose the hole.
Scenario goal #2
Now it was time to find the key in the basement and free myself. I knew there were two possible obstacles in my way; a short rope, and total darkness with no idea where the key was on the 15 feet by 22 feet floor. A big basement. I had two options; wait in the basement until morning, which was 6 hours away, or simply take my time and methodically search for the key. Waiting until morning meant the risk of falling asleep, which meant I could no longer position my mouth near the hole, so it would block against my cheek. The last time I feel sleep during a breath game, confusion upon waking meant that I could not figure out what to do quickly enough before starting to panic. So, I had to find the key, but first, I had to get to the basement.
After descending the first stairway, I began down the basement stairs. I again felt the pull of the rope, but this was way too early, even if the rope wasn’t long enough, as I was only one-third down the stairway. I pulled the rope several times, but nothing gave. I became angry and pulled hard on the rope, causing me to choke, but still nothing. Air was an issue again, and I had to relax once more. At this point, the plastic was very wet in the hood., so as it tightened during inhale, salty sweat was burning my eyes. Not sure if it was that, or residual shampoo from my hair. I now had to go back to the top of the basement stairs to see what was holding the rope. At this time, I was feeling quite fatigued and worried that I could not complete the scenario, but I had no choice, as I could not sleep. When I reached the top of the stairs, I found that the knot created for the shortening loop had caught at the base of the railing of the main stairway. Not as bad as I thought, so I simply pulled it out.
I resumed my descent to the basement, and when I arrived, it was as dark as a photographer’s darkroom. I stopped to rest, leaned into a corner, pulled by head against the wall to slide the plastic a bit so I could easily access the air hole. It was a magnificent restful moment, but I had to stay awake, no matter what. The longer I stayed there, the more I needed to stay there, so I decided that I could manage this. As I sat there, cars drove by every ten minutes or so, their lights would briefly illuminate part of the basement through the window near the far end. This, however, was no use to me since there was no useful view through the wet plastic. My breathing was regular now, I was at peace. There were several moments where I fell asleep briefly, but jerked back awake knowing this was something to avoid. The thought of having to navigate the entire basement floor space, inch by inch, for probably hours, was not enticing.
The inevitable happened; I fell sleep. I dreamed that someone was holding my nose, only to wake up with plastic tight around my head and a need for air, totally confused. I could not see, I was unable to move, I was pressed up against a wall, so I knew I wasn’t in my own bed, and then I became aware. Before I could remember to exhale to allow my head to shift left toward the hole, I lurched forward, which pulled the plastic down my back, and again covering the exhaust hole. I then fell to the floor, pushed my face to the carpet, and pulled left so the breathing hole would arrive at my mouth, and took a huge breath. Then exhaled, which is when I realized the exhale hole was plugged, so I kept pushing hard in the hopes that the hood would simply explode at the seams. Well, the folks at Kinky Clothes do a good job, and the seams held strong. I kept struggling for air, trying to push my head forward a few times to undo the exhale hole, but it was not happening. The sound began to muffle again, and this time, I was in utter panic, so I struggled like hell to free myself, abandoning the fact that air wasn’t coming in fast enough. I pulled as hard as I could to free my hands, which were sliding in the plastic, but couldn’t fit through the belt loops. I kept pulling and pulling, and then I gripped the plastic with my front teeth, pushed my face into the carpet, and swiped sideways in an attempt to tear through the plastic just enough to allow more air to flow, as I probably only had seconds left before I blacked out. I managed to puncture the plastic, and each breath drew a tiny bit more air, but it was still not enough. I did this over and over, my hearing was totally muffled by this time, and was no longer within my body, in a panic driven frenzy.
As you can probably tell, I did make it. I was able to create just enough holes to allow enough air flow and to avoid passing out. It was now possible to fall asleep, with relative safety, and wait for the morning light. I lay on my back, checked that I could move my head freely back and forth without becoming stuck without air, then relaxed and waited.
Several hours later, I woke up, on my stomach now, my face against the plastic, and I was breathing through only half of the holes I had punctured, so I had to move my head to gain full control of breathing again. It’s not certain how long I was in that position, but I assume it wasn’t long, since I began to struggle for air almost immediately upon waking. I looked up to see light entering the basement window, diffracted by the curtains. I began to crawl around, and finally saw a dark object on the carpet. The key was toward the end of the basement, close to the wall under the window. I began crawling, this time not worrying as much about air flow, but my hands had fallen asleep, since the belt was tight. This meant that I could not unlock myself until my hands had feeling. I kept making my way toward the key, wondering when the rope would stop me, and then it did. I stretched out on my back with my feet fully extended, with only a few inches from my toes to the key. There's no way I was going all the way back upstairs to free the rope, so I pulled hard on the rope, choking several times, feeling for the key. I finally felt it, and began to pull it toward me. Both my hands were completely asleep. I began to push them further into the belt loops to re-position and unblock the blood flow. After several minutes, they came back to life, and I was able to unlock myself and remove the plastic cocoon I just spend almost 12 hours in.
I have done this scenario several times since this event, but have made sure to triple check each stage of the scenario to ensure I would never have to experience this horror again.
The stage is set as follows…
1. Clear plastic enclosure suit with fully enclosed hood.
http://www.kinky-clothes.com/store/enclo...p-152.html
2. A breathing hole to the left of center, just large enough to allow air flow at a relaxed state, secured with a 2 inch square of vinyl tape to avoid tearing of the plastic.
3. An exhale hole at the back of the hood, just below the hair line, allowing air to escape quickly, but to block against the neck as air is taken in.
4. Feet and knees secured together with belts.
5. Hands secured behind back, secured with belts and key lock.
6. Key for lock in the basement, two floors down.
7. Rope secured to railing at the top floor of the house.
8. The rope has a section in the middle looped back to shorten the rope to half its length, secured with key lock
9. Key for this lock at a mid-point on the stairs, positioned at the end of the rope.
10. Other end of rope secured to belt around my neck.
There are two safety mechanisms:
1. Use my incisor (canine) teeth to grab the plastic, then lift my head (look up) to tear it open.
2. Scissors taped to my back using vinyl tape for security, to cut through the rope, and to the belt binding my hands.
The scenario involves having to first get the key on the stairs, unlock the loop in the rope, so that I can reach the main key in the basement, which has the key to unlock the waist level harness and free my hands.
For the setup, I first secured the shortening loop lock, then took the rope end and placed the loop lock key on the step that the rope extended to. I hadn't noticed it yet, but the rope ran over the railing at the bend of the stairs during this test, making it a bit longer, which will cause an issue later. I went down to the basement and tossed the main key of the harness lock on the carpeted floor. I put the scissors on the back of the plastic enclosure suit and taped it with two strips of vinyl tape in an "X" pattern just above where my hands would be secured in the harness.
I began the scenario by putting on the plastic suit, zipping it closed, and securing a notched belt around my neck, then latching the end of the rope to the belt. I secured my legs together at the feet and the knees, and put the harness around my waist and locked it. I then sat on the bed to relax as my breathing had increased. I began to notice the effect of reduced air flow, causing the plastic hood to tighten around my head and face as I inhaled. The hole blocks against my cheek unless I rotate my head to the left before inhaling. If I miss this step, I must then exhale enough air to either allow my head to rotate within the hood, or use my tongue to push away the plastic so the hole doesn’t block. This was a good moment to test the exhale hole’s usefulness in removing bad air quickly. Everything was working to plan so far. After ten minutes, my breathing slowed and I was ready to begin.
I positioned my hands behind my back, pushed them through the belt loops, then verified that I could reach the lock and the scissors. I then stepped on the end of the belt strap, and stood up to tighten the loops. I was now quite secure. The time was 8:00 pm and it was summer, so the daylight would remain until 10:00 pm, which was key (pun totally intended) to my escape. Unknown to me at the time, I missed an important detail in the preparation; turning on the basement light. This is quite valuable when you must find a key sitting on a basement floor.
Scenario goal #1
My first goal was to acquire the key on the main floor stairway which removes the loop that shortens the rope. I began to crawl toward the stairway down the hall, and in only a few seconds, had to stop because more air was needed than was arriving through the hole. I took a short break. As I descended down the stairs, I felt a strong tug on the belt around my neck. I had reached the end of the rope length before expected. This is when I hit my first snag. Because the rope now went around the railing rather than over it, as it was during the test, it wasn’t along enough to allow my hands to reach the key, just my feet. Moving the rope over the railing was the only way around this, which meant I had to climb back to the top of the stairs, stand up, and try lifting the rope with my hands or my mouth. I decided to abandon the scenario.
My first safety was to use the scissors taped behind my back to cut the rope and harness, so I reached up my back and pulled down to remove the scissors from the tape, only to find that the tape simply wasn't letting go. I then realized that the vinyl tape was strong, and I had not properly tested its adhesion properties before performing the scenario. I could not remove the scissors, nor could I tear the plastic with my fingers. I was also handicapped by the positioning of my hands, since I could only use one hand at a time for this maneuver. With this safety gone, I had no choice but to complete the entire scenario.
To make the rest of the scenario more bearable, I went for the second safety, which was to tear the plastic with my teeth so I could more easily breath. I inhaled to pull the plastic into my mouth so that I could bite down, and then lifted my head to tear it open. The problem was that the belt around my neck was not as tight as usual, so the plastic, now wet from sweat, slid between the belt and my neck, not offering any resistance. I would not tear. I quickly realized that I was in serious trouble, since I had no other safety mechanisms left, and I had to complete the scenario to get the release key in the basement.
My first attempt was to reach the key with my feet, and grab it with my toes. The risk was to knock the key further down the stairs, thus no escape possible. The only reason I considered this was because I now realized my mistake of basement lighting and needed to get through this scenario before dark. I began to position my feet slowly toward the step holding the key. The rope was now pulling on the belt around my neck. I used my hands to secure my position on the stairs so I could fine-tune my feet near the key and feel around. Because of sweat buildup, my hands slipped in the plastic and I jerked down one step, causing me to momentarily hang myself. I had to pull my feet back and push up on the step to regain my position and loosen the belt around my neck. In doing so, I needed more air than I could take in. This was my first bad moment as I was having a hard time breathing. I held still, keeping my feet on the step and holding my position, while I gasped for air, feeling the plastic tighten on my head and face over and over. After five minutes or so, I was back to normal, and ready to continue. Something was odd though. The rate at which air escaped was very slow, and only seemed to go out the front hole. I then realized that the rear hole was now covered by the belt, which had been pulled up during the hanging. This was serious, since I bad air needed to escape quickly. I jerked my head forward several times, hoping that the hole would expose, and it did.
At this point, I didn’t know whether I had knocked the key down the stairs during the struggle, which worried me. I slowly began to work my way to the top of the stairs in order to re-position the rope over the railing. Sweat had built up making the plastic much more slippery now. This meant that I had to struggle more to maintain positioning on the stairs, and thus, needing more air. It took me more than 45 minutes to get back up the stairs. It was now probably after 9:30 pm since the light was at its usual dusk tone, and fading quickly.
I reached the top of the stairs and now had to stand up. This was not easy. The combination of wet plastic, plus the knee belt was tight, making it almost impossible to bend my legs more than a few degrees. The only thing that worked was to put my back along the wall and push against the railing with my feet. My torso would inch up until I was standing. So I began, but I needed air very quickly, but had to continue. Since the plastic was being pulled down my back by the wall's friction, the exhale hole was almost immediately covered. I was at the half way point when I realized that I had to stop to regain oxygen. Beyond a certain threshold of CO/2 accumulation, there’s no going back. I had to hold that position for five minutes (at least it seemed that long, no way to really know). It was at this moment when I feared to black out since the panic instinct was kicking in and sounds began to be slightly muffled. I tried pulling my hands through the belt loops, which I did in previous experiences like this, since slippery plastic is like oil. In this case however, the belt was quite secure. There was only waiting and relaxing. I let myself fall back to the floor and hoped I would be ok. An eternity went by but then I could feel that things were improving and that my breathing was now less panicked and my hearing was restored. This time, however, heaving my head forward didn’t help the exhale hole, and the hood was now more tightly fitting.
I had no choice but to grab the key with my toes, if it was still there. I began to go back down the stairs, breathing regularly to avoid passing out. If that happened, it would mean hanging myself since there was no way to hold my position. I arrived at the end of the rope and began to feel for the key with my big toe. There is nothing more difficult than trying to feel something through wet plastic. I realized that pressing down on the carpet was the only way, since the key was hard and would offer contrasting resistance. I began, inch by inch, in a matrix pattern, all the while feeling the plastic tighten around my head over and over while I struggled for air. Hope began to fade as I neared the center of the step, thinking there was no key to be found here. Shortly thereafter, the key! Now that I knew the position, I could take a break and gather air, so I pulled my feet up and sat on the step, leaning my head against the wall.
The thought of darkness caused me stress, since I tossed the key on the basement floor and didn’t really take notice of where it landed. My intention was to see it when I arrived, and therefore, why bother knowing where it is. Part of the excitement. Another worry was having to go up those stairs yet again to remove the loop lock, now that the exhale hole was no longer functioning. Then it hit me, something even worse; if the rope wasn’t long enough to get this key, then it could also be too short to reach the key on the basement floor. This meant that I either had to move the rope over the railing, or try to see if the rope was long enough, and if not, only then move the rope… but… this meant going all the way back up two flights of stairs and redoing over half the scenario. I needed time to think, and since it had become dark, time was no longer an issue.
My decision was to move forward and to see if the rope was long enough, since there were only sixteen inches missing for my hands to reach the key on the steps. My breathing now had become constantly strained due to the lack of exhale hole. I re-positioned myself and began to descend the stairs to reach the key. I put my foot at the position of the key, and began to slide it toward me, so I could grip it with my toes. I managed to get a good grip, but as I began to pull my feet up, my hands slipped and I slid down the stairs again and hung myself. I needed to keep a grip on the key while pulling up my feet to then push up and loosen the belt around my neck. I managed to accomplish this, but again, my air supply was in serious trouble and I had to gain control and not black out. I tried again to pull my hands through the belt loops, no dice, but now needed even more air. A serious situation; if I stayed there and blacked out, I would slide down the stairs and hang myself. If I hurried to the top of the stairs, then I will certainly black out. I took my chances and simply inhaled as hard as I could and pushed like hell to let air out. Once again I began to feel panic, but had to resist the instinct to pull on my hands or struggle. Focus was on the rhythm of plastic tightening and loosening around my head, keeping my head slightly left turned to have freer access to the intake hole. My hearing was muffled and my mind was simply focused on one thing; do not black out.
An eternity passed, once again, but I was able to avoid blacking out. Oh damn, where's the key? I realized that I no longer had it gripped between my toes, but I did quickly find it on the step, one higher than it was originally. I now had to pull it up two more steps in order to grab it by my hands. This proved to be easier than before, because it was higher up now, and I no longer needed full extension to grab it. The key was finally in my hands. This moment felt good, if only briefly, as I remembered the rope length issue. I slowly made my way to the top of the stairs, took the lock in my left hand, and unlocked it with the key, making sure the rope was totally clear of the lock.
My next task was to regain use of the exhale air hole, since my rate of breathing was extremely high and was causing serious discomfort. The idea was to lay on my back, push downwards toward my feet, then push my head back on the carpet and look up, thus pulling the plastic upwards. After several maneuvers, I was able to pull the plastic far enough to expose the hole.
Scenario goal #2
Now it was time to find the key in the basement and free myself. I knew there were two possible obstacles in my way; a short rope, and total darkness with no idea where the key was on the 15 feet by 22 feet floor. A big basement. I had two options; wait in the basement until morning, which was 6 hours away, or simply take my time and methodically search for the key. Waiting until morning meant the risk of falling asleep, which meant I could no longer position my mouth near the hole, so it would block against my cheek. The last time I feel sleep during a breath game, confusion upon waking meant that I could not figure out what to do quickly enough before starting to panic. So, I had to find the key, but first, I had to get to the basement.
After descending the first stairway, I began down the basement stairs. I again felt the pull of the rope, but this was way too early, even if the rope wasn’t long enough, as I was only one-third down the stairway. I pulled the rope several times, but nothing gave. I became angry and pulled hard on the rope, causing me to choke, but still nothing. Air was an issue again, and I had to relax once more. At this point, the plastic was very wet in the hood., so as it tightened during inhale, salty sweat was burning my eyes. Not sure if it was that, or residual shampoo from my hair. I now had to go back to the top of the basement stairs to see what was holding the rope. At this time, I was feeling quite fatigued and worried that I could not complete the scenario, but I had no choice, as I could not sleep. When I reached the top of the stairs, I found that the knot created for the shortening loop had caught at the base of the railing of the main stairway. Not as bad as I thought, so I simply pulled it out.
I resumed my descent to the basement, and when I arrived, it was as dark as a photographer’s darkroom. I stopped to rest, leaned into a corner, pulled by head against the wall to slide the plastic a bit so I could easily access the air hole. It was a magnificent restful moment, but I had to stay awake, no matter what. The longer I stayed there, the more I needed to stay there, so I decided that I could manage this. As I sat there, cars drove by every ten minutes or so, their lights would briefly illuminate part of the basement through the window near the far end. This, however, was no use to me since there was no useful view through the wet plastic. My breathing was regular now, I was at peace. There were several moments where I fell asleep briefly, but jerked back awake knowing this was something to avoid. The thought of having to navigate the entire basement floor space, inch by inch, for probably hours, was not enticing.
The inevitable happened; I fell sleep. I dreamed that someone was holding my nose, only to wake up with plastic tight around my head and a need for air, totally confused. I could not see, I was unable to move, I was pressed up against a wall, so I knew I wasn’t in my own bed, and then I became aware. Before I could remember to exhale to allow my head to shift left toward the hole, I lurched forward, which pulled the plastic down my back, and again covering the exhaust hole. I then fell to the floor, pushed my face to the carpet, and pulled left so the breathing hole would arrive at my mouth, and took a huge breath. Then exhaled, which is when I realized the exhale hole was plugged, so I kept pushing hard in the hopes that the hood would simply explode at the seams. Well, the folks at Kinky Clothes do a good job, and the seams held strong. I kept struggling for air, trying to push my head forward a few times to undo the exhale hole, but it was not happening. The sound began to muffle again, and this time, I was in utter panic, so I struggled like hell to free myself, abandoning the fact that air wasn’t coming in fast enough. I pulled as hard as I could to free my hands, which were sliding in the plastic, but couldn’t fit through the belt loops. I kept pulling and pulling, and then I gripped the plastic with my front teeth, pushed my face into the carpet, and swiped sideways in an attempt to tear through the plastic just enough to allow more air to flow, as I probably only had seconds left before I blacked out. I managed to puncture the plastic, and each breath drew a tiny bit more air, but it was still not enough. I did this over and over, my hearing was totally muffled by this time, and was no longer within my body, in a panic driven frenzy.
As you can probably tell, I did make it. I was able to create just enough holes to allow enough air flow and to avoid passing out. It was now possible to fall asleep, with relative safety, and wait for the morning light. I lay on my back, checked that I could move my head freely back and forth without becoming stuck without air, then relaxed and waited.
Several hours later, I woke up, on my stomach now, my face against the plastic, and I was breathing through only half of the holes I had punctured, so I had to move my head to gain full control of breathing again. It’s not certain how long I was in that position, but I assume it wasn’t long, since I began to struggle for air almost immediately upon waking. I looked up to see light entering the basement window, diffracted by the curtains. I began to crawl around, and finally saw a dark object on the carpet. The key was toward the end of the basement, close to the wall under the window. I began crawling, this time not worrying as much about air flow, but my hands had fallen asleep, since the belt was tight. This meant that I could not unlock myself until my hands had feeling. I kept making my way toward the key, wondering when the rope would stop me, and then it did. I stretched out on my back with my feet fully extended, with only a few inches from my toes to the key. There's no way I was going all the way back upstairs to free the rope, so I pulled hard on the rope, choking several times, feeling for the key. I finally felt it, and began to pull it toward me. Both my hands were completely asleep. I began to push them further into the belt loops to re-position and unblock the blood flow. After several minutes, they came back to life, and I was able to unlock myself and remove the plastic cocoon I just spend almost 12 hours in.
I have done this scenario several times since this event, but have made sure to triple check each stage of the scenario to ensure I would never have to experience this horror again.