Tales of the Rope

Chapter 13: Homemade Straitjacket

Hi, my name’s Marla, and straitjackets are something that I’ve always had a fascination about but not a lot of experience with. For one thing, they aren’t for sale down at the corner supermarket. I am not sure where you can even buy them. Nor are they cheap, at least I’ve been told that leather straitjackets cost hundreds of dollars. I saw a photo once of a rubber one, but don’t know if that’s much cheaper.

What I like about them is the security. I use the word security when I mean inescapability. A good straitjacket should make the wearer totally unable to remove it. A secondary effect is that the person is also limited in her actions. And they’re more comfortable than tight ropes for long-term bondage. Not that I haven’t done some pretty long term rope bondage, but it stands to reason that a straitjacket will restrict the circulation much less and put less strain on the limbs. If you’ve ever been tied with your elbows tight together behind your back for four or five hours, you’ll know what I’m talking about.

When I lived with Bill, I used to sleep all night with my wrists crossed and tied behind me. The ropes weren’t extra tight, but snug enough so that I couldn’t work them off by myself. And the knot was always up between my wrists on top where the fingers just can’t quite reach. I’ve also spent the night in handcuffs (self imposed for the most part, before I met Bill), and one time spent a good part of a night wearing a single glove. But I’ve never worn a straitjacket long enough to test its comfort. The homemade one I did try wasn’t a store-bought one and only approximated a real one. Still, it was secure, since Bill insisted on any bondage being real, just as I did. Let me tell you about it.

It was one Saturday afternoon, and Bill wanted to go to a movie but I didn’t want to see the movie he did, so I suggested that perhaps he could leave me in the apartment in a state of total immobility while he enjoyed a male blood-and-guts movie. I had studied most of the morning and was tired of the books. And it was not uncommon for me to be left alone in the apartment naked and tightly bound up. Usually it was in a hogtie, often to a chair, and sometimes in other forms of restraint. I guess I haven’t told you yet, but one of my favorite games is to be tightly bound and then left alone for an hour or two. It is very scary to be alone in a house or apartment and totally helpless, but also very exciting. And I have found that some men really enjoy knowing that there is a naked, helpless girl waiting for them to return.

But I digress. Bill got some rope out but then got a funny look on his face. He told me that he was going to try and create a straitjacket effect as we had talked about a few times. I immediately stripped off my blouse and jeans, and then waited to see if he wanted the panties and bra off, too. He did. Nothing unusual there.

the knots. It created a snug loop around my wrist. He repeated that with the other wrist, and then he had me stand up and he looped a long rope around my waist, pulling it in tightly. When he had half a dozen loops around me, he tied off the rope in front and then

rope up to my left wrist, which was the arm closest to my body, and squeezed it through the loop around that wrist.

I don’t think I could have gotten out. When he was getting some of the other equipment, I tried to bring my arms up and over my head but I couldn’t even begin to get

tied that rope down to the waist rope in front, jerked it tightly and knotted it off with a grin. I’ll have to admit, I was enjoying it. It’s always fun when you’re getting to try

covered. It was one of his sweatshirts, so it was pretty large on me. He cut a small but perfectly round hole in the front, and another in the back. These were down by the waistband elastic. He put the end of another length of rope through that hole and tied it with several knots. Then he passed the rope between my legs and up to the hole in the back of

under the sweatshirt and I didn’t think I could get free. The only question was how he would tie my legs. Bill was too good a bondage person to leave me free to wander around the apartment and get into trouble. But

strong. Beginning below my shoulders, he wrapped it around my body as tightly as he could. The tape stuck immediately to the shirt and was wrapped pretty

an agreement between us that I would always give each bit of bondage a good test and be honest about any weakness I found. Both of us wanted the bondage to be very, very real and escape proof. I tried my hardest to pull my arms any way they

could maybe get free would be if I could rub the tape and sweatshirt off on a table edge or something, then try to get a knife to work on the ropes. I knew full well that I was, in effect, telling him to tie my legs, but I didn’t care. Well, I should be honest: I did care. If he had left my legs free, then I would have really tried to work the homemade straitjacket off. And might have succeeded. I am pretty good at escaping from all the practice I had as a teenager. It was one of our rules that if there was a chance of getting free,

couple times, and those were when we had just begun