ESCAPE ARTIST CONSTRICTS SELF INTO NASTY BIND

This story, written by the author of Portrait of the Escape Artist as a Young Man appeared as that one did in Issue 11, July/August 1989

NEW YORK STATE. I was twenty-four when I read about the constrictor knot. Basically a clove hitch with a twist, functionally it was a double loop that would close but not open. This was accomplished by pulling on both ends of the rope that formed the loops. Once closed around something (the drawing in the book showed a pair of crossed wrists!) the loops will not open until the knot forming them is untied. The book's brief entry said the knot could be used "to tie up a Houdini!"

I sat and looked at the entry a long time. My heart was beating pretty fast. For years I had been looking for such a knot: it seemed perfect for my "auto-bondage" activities. I immediately made plans to try it out.

That night at my apartment I decided to make it a real challenge; I had always heard that wetting a rope made the knots hold better. Why not give this new knot every benefit of the doubt? My plan was simple: Take about six feet of cotton clothesline (I figured cotton would absorb water the best) and tie my ankles together with one end of it. Then, kneeling in a partially filled bathtub, tie a constrictor knot behind my back, place the other end of the rope in my mouth, insert my wrists into the loops and pull everything tight using my legs and teeth. I would then lean back and slip down into the water, thoroughly soaking the rope.

It went pretty much as I had planned. I only used a few inches of water in the tub (why drown unnecessarily?)> When I tied my ankles I was careful to knot the rope in front so it would be out of reach of my fingers. Closing the loops around my wrists went smoothly; I made them nice and snug, but not so tight as to be uncomfortable. With everything in place I let go of the rope in my mouth, leaned back, and slowly sank into the tub.

To this day I can feel the rope soaking up the hot water, expanding and tightening around my wrists. It was as though I had pulled everything a couple of notches tighter, and it only served to heighten my excitement (Not that I could do anything about it, tied as I was). I pulled against the ropes, kind of testing them; everything seemed to hold. I tried for the knot around my ankles—it appeared to be out of reach. These half-hearted tests done, I relaxed in the tub and enjoyed the feeling of being tied hand and foot.

At the time I didn't really believe the knot could withstand a determined assault, any more than all the other hare-brained rope schemes I had tried during my adolescence. Besides, one end of the rope was completely free, and I hadn't even pulled hard against anything yet. In the past when push came to shove I was invariably disappointed, especially when things were loose enough to be comfortable in the first place. And this particular tie was very good in that respect: the ropes felt snug and tight; my wrists and ankles were held firmly and securely, yet nothing hurt. I loved it. I didn't want it to end. Consequently I didn't really try to work free. Instead I half-dozed in the warm water, struggling fitfully now and then, wishing I could do something about my hard-on.

Slowly the water cooled. I sighed happily in my trap, unaware of what was going on.

When the water got cold I began to find out what was up. For starters, I wasn't; nor did I seem to be able to get up, either. My pinioned wrists prevented me from hooking an arm over the side of the tub. I could obtain no purchase on the slippery tub sides with my elbows. And when I tried to push myself back and upright with my heels, the rope between my wrists and ankles stopped me. I worked at it, trying every body contortion I could manage, but my options were rather limited. The rope did its stuff, knocking my balance off at crucial moments, returning me time and time again to the bottom of the tub.

After a while I quit trying to get up and shifted my attention to the knot around my wrists. The only trouble was, I couldn't find it. I felt around with my fingers, but all I could discern were snug coils of rope. I pulled hard against the ropes around my wrists. Nothing loosened up. I tried to twist my hands around inside the loops but couldn't even turn them; the wet rope seemed to have molded itself to my wrists. I tried harder: shifting my arms against my body for leverage, I pulled against the loops binding my hands, using first the muscles in my arms, then adding the strength of my chest and back, increasing the force until my wrists could take no more. When I was done, nothing had moved. It wasn't tighter, it wasn't looser. It was just the same.

I couldn't believe it!

I tried again, this time yanking and tugging really violently, the ropes cutting deep as I pitted myself against them. Finally, sweating and panting, I had to stop. Clearly it was no go. I needed a knife. And I couldn't get one, stuck flat on my back in the bathtub. I had to get up. I tried everything I could to undo the knot holding my ankles together, but all I did was confirm over and over again that it was indeed tied fast out of reach. Score one for careful planning, I thought. If you're going to do a job, do it right!

As I struggled, I realized my fingers were fine, and I had no circulation problems in my hands or feet. Here it was, just what I'd always dreamed about. I was in no danger, nothing hurt, yet I couldn't fucking move! I had to laugh at my cleverness. My hard-on bobbed in front of me, a million miles out of reach.

Well, I lay there awhile, catching my breath, and after a bit started trying to get into an upright position again. I figured if I could get out of the tub it would only be a short crawl to the kitchen and a knife. However, with my wrists so effectively pinioned, I just couldn't get the leverage I needed with my arms. At one point, as I lay back catching my breath, I realized there was a towel hanging right behind my head. I pulled it down with my teeth, draped it over the side of the tub, and wet it down. Finally I had a surface I could work with, and after a lot of painful effort I made it up to a kneeling position. Here I rested, waiting for my breathing and heart to slow down ("Maybe I'm going to get out of this after all!")

It was not to be. I was still hogtied as securely as ever, and had no way to get my leg hooked over the side of the tub so I could roll down onto the floor. And, much as I wanted to get free, I just couldn't bring myself to topple headfirst over the side of the tub onto the hard floor tiles. I was afraid I would hit my head and be knocked unconscious. So I shifted my attention back to the knot securing my wrists.

By its very nature a constrictor knot has nothing to grab onto; once it has been tightened in place, the overhand twist that forms the heart of the knot is buried under another loop of rope that hides and protects it from prying fingers. I had been careful to tie the knot against the back of my wrists, as shown in the book illustration, and I soon found out this positioning was not a matter of chance—it made the knot virtually inaccessible to the fingers. The loose end of the rope was useless; the only option open to me was to pull on it, and all this did was jam the knot tighter. It appeared that nothing I could do would loosen things up.

At one point, by superhuman effort, I managed to turn one wrist inside the ropes, but the pain was outrageous; it hurt so bad I immediately twisted it back, fearing real damage. I slumped down, sucking my breath at the pain in my wrists. As I did so, my hands, which had been out of the water for some forty minutes, were submerged again—the stinging was incredible! Not only that, I could feel the rope tightening up around my wrists again. That meant the twisting had loosened it—if only a little! I suddenly realized that after the constrictor knot itself, the water was my biggest enemy. I opened the tub's drain with my teeth, and let the water out. That way, whatever painful gains I did make wouldn't be eliminated every time I slumped down to rest.

Figuring dryer rope would hurt less, I decided to wait as long as I comfortably could before turning my wrists again. I spent the time pulling and stretching the rope by levering my arms and wrists. At one point in the evening some friends came visiting and spent a lot of time knocking and banging on my apartment door; I could hear them talking outside, puzzled that a light was on, my car was there, and I didn't answer. How could I? I was helpless, tied naked hand and foot in the bathtub. Eventually they gave up and went away, and I resumed waiting. Finally I figured it was now or never (my knees and legs were killing me), so I took a deep breath, gritted my teeth, and twisted my wrists again inside the loops.

My skin was already scraped raw from the first time so it hurt even worse, but when I had shifted my hand back again the loops seemed just the slightest bit looser than before! I practically cried out in relief, for I knew then that despite the pain involved it would just be a matter of time before I was free.

During the long struggle that followed I had plenty of time to think about auto-bondage and the consequences thereof. I cursed myself for being such an asshole and trying something totally new without an escape net. I was to pay heavily for my stupidity: the outer skin of my wrists was scraped off by the ropes as I twisted and struggled; I had to put dressings on them for over a week afterwards, wearing long-sleeved shirts to hide the injury; it was months before the scars went away. I had gone into the tub around seven; it was after one when I finally pulled my bleeding wrists free of the loops.

Until this particular tie I had never put myself into a bind I couldn't get out of. After the constrictor tie I came to appreciate the potential dangers of auto-bondage, and I resolved that I would do things differently in the future. I have since discovered several schemes for safe fun and games in this area, but I have never repeated this particular tie again—not because it didn't deliver, but because the pain required to escape is more than I'd ever care to experience again.

Comments

[Jimbo]

Hi I am a 25 YO aussie boi who loves to be tied tightly and helplessy I will with your permission suggest to MASTER that this may be worth a trial
many thanks

[slave v]

i think that using leather restraints (with a collar, of course) work really good for auto-bondage and you don't have to worry about rope burns. they are quick to get on and off and feel really good against the skin. i guess i am not as bold, but i use my leather restraints every chance i get for auto-bondage. the hard part is taking pics of yourself while doing auto-bondage. you can really burn up your knees trying to engage the timer and then move over to the perfect position. if you get a chance, try it. it adds to the fun.