Calling for Help (F/Self)
Posted: Mon Feb 10, 2025 8:55 pm
In the ten or so years that I've been tying myself up, only a single time ever have I gotten so stuck that someone else had to let me out. Let's talk about it.
Naturally, it started out like any other session. I did my legs first, tying around my ankles and knees. This was before I had rope, but old clothes worked just as well. After making sure I couldn't shake my legs free I moved onto my arms.
I took what at the time was my most rope-like object (a several-meter-long cloth belt) and started working my arms into a box tie.
Now. Normally I would go into detail about how exactly I tied myself so you can more easily picture my situation. I'm not going to this time, though, because when I did this I actually, truly did get stuck. With no way out. I imagine several of you out there read these stories for inspiration as to how to tie yourself (I know I certainly do,) and it's very, very possible that anyone else who tries this will get stuck too. So for your own safety I won't tell exactly how I managed to tie myself.
So I did... something... with the cloth belt and ended up with my arms in a very secure box tie behind my back. My hands were facing in opposite directions, pinned to my back as well.
You know what happens next, but I didn't. When I used to do self-bondage, especially if I was trying something new, I honestly didn't know if I could get out or not. Usually I would make sure I could escape before getting myself all the way stuck, but this time I had complete blind faith that I would be able to slip my hands out.
I played around for a little while. It's very dangerous to run the risk of getting stuck, but it's also exhilarating. It kind of simulates being tied up by someone else in the same way as when I tie myself inescapably and leave a knife to get out. I had fun, but eventually I did start to worry that I wouldn't be able to escape, and I decided to try pulling my wrists out of the box tie.
I couldn't.
I couldn't at ALL.
...
...
...
Now, even in situations like these, I very rarely panic. I have a tendency to keep a cool head even in the face of complete disaster.
...
I think it's getting tighter.
...
It's cutting into my hands, isn't it.
...
OH GOD OH FUCK I'M GOING TO DIE
I CAN'T DO ANYTHING I'M STUCK LIKE THIS I'M GOING TO DIE LIKE THIS
OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD IT CAN'T END LIKE THIS
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
Okay, it wasn't THAT bad, and I doubt it would actually have cut off my blood flow, but it was getting very uncomfortable and I was full on panicking.
I desperately tried to think
and
oh my knife is in here. I can probably use that.
How in the WORLD am I going to find this thing?
I very awkwardly moved around my room looking for it. Remember, my legs are still tied, and I did try but I couldn't free them at all.
THERE it is. What a terrible place for it to be.
But I thiiiink I can get it.
After some effort, I got it.
Please let this work...
FUCK!
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK
It didn't. Turns out it was nowhere near strong enough to cut through the cloth belt. You'd think I'd have learned my lesson after that duct tape incident I also wrote about, but here we are.
I kept trying to cut the belt and felt the blade nick the tip of my finger. This is pointless... I can't cut myself out with this.
I debated making my way downstairs to grab a bigger knife or scissors and cut myself out, but at this point, the belt was pressing very deeply and painfully against my wrists, and I decided not to risk cutting my fingers or tightening the belt any more. Both of my parents were attending an event some 20 minutes away from home and would be back in several hours. I feared that if I didn't get out soon, though, I might actually lose circulation in my wrists.
Oh man... Do I really have to do this?
...
Okay. Fine.
My phone was annoyingly in the very middle of my desk. I managed to grab it after some effort. I put it down on the edge of the desk, turned towards it, and started thinking about how to call my parents.
How...
How exactly do I do this?
Well, if I was able to grab it, I should be able to touch the screen. I turned around and felt the screen with my very effectively bound and nearly helpless hands. I pressed my finger against the home button and, reading my fingerprint, my phone unlocked and opened to the home screen. From there, theoretically, I could open the "phone" app and call either of my parents from speed dial.
I turned around to get an idea of where the app icon was and was a little surprised to see specks of blood all over my phone. It made sense, considering I had cut my finger just a moment ago, but I certainly wasn't expecting to see it. I turned back around and, after a little effort, made my way into the app and attempted to call my mother.
It started calling... and... no response.
Oh SHIT.
Well, I tried again. And a third time. Nothing happened.
That isn't good.
I tried my father. Nothing again!
But when I tried a second time, thankfully, he did pick up.
Here we go...
For clarity, from this point onward, anything written in bold (like this) is from him, and otherwise is from me.
"What's going on? Are you okay?"
I didn't want to scare him too much, but I did definitely need his help.
"I need your help. Something happened and I... I need help."
"What happened?"
Oh, don't do this to me. I don't want to say this out loud!
"I... got stuck."
"What did you do?"
Oh, for fuck's sake.
"You know how I used to..."
Ahhhhh I hate this I hate this I hate this
"...tie myself up?"
"Yes..?"
"Well, I did it again, and I got stuck, and I need you to let me out."
"Okay. I'll be right there."
He hung up.
There wasn't really anything to do but wait until he got home. I made my way to my bed and kneeled in such a position that he could easily reach and untie my wrists.
Maybe 15 minutes later, I heard someone racing up the stairs and towards my room. Then the door opened and he walked in.
He... laughed?
I said hi.
"Hiiiii!"
I hardly recognized my own voice.
"I got stuck."
"...Hi."
"Why did you laugh?"
"I wasn't expecting it to be so... elaborate."
Huh. It had been a long, long time since either of my parents had caught me, and I suppose I had gotten a lot better since then.
Oh, don't just stand there!
"Can you..?"
He went behind me and I felt his hands against mine. I probably should have told him how to untie me, but hell, I couldn't really think at the moment. I bent down and buried my face in my blanket, partially in relief, partially in shame.
For all my worry in the moment, there's something to be said about someone else untying you. I felt my binds shift and loosen as he pulled at them trying to free me. It was wonderfully relieving to know that I didn't have to get out all by myself, and that all I could do was sit there, motionless.
"I hope you're not too upset."
"Not at all. I'm just glad you're okay."
I had no idea what was going on, but the belt was definitely getting looser. After maybe two minutes of his focused untying, I was just barely able to slip my hands out.
"Oh, thank fuck."
I immediately rubbed my wrists and was a little surprised to see my pinky finger coated in dried blood with a little slit at its tip. It looked so much more dramatic than it felt.
With my legs still bound, we hugged each other, and he got up and went to the door.
"Be... please be careful next time."
"I will. I promise."
He walked out of the room, closing my door behind him.
I didn't tie myself up for quite some time after that.
Naturally, it started out like any other session. I did my legs first, tying around my ankles and knees. This was before I had rope, but old clothes worked just as well. After making sure I couldn't shake my legs free I moved onto my arms.
I took what at the time was my most rope-like object (a several-meter-long cloth belt) and started working my arms into a box tie.
Now. Normally I would go into detail about how exactly I tied myself so you can more easily picture my situation. I'm not going to this time, though, because when I did this I actually, truly did get stuck. With no way out. I imagine several of you out there read these stories for inspiration as to how to tie yourself (I know I certainly do,) and it's very, very possible that anyone else who tries this will get stuck too. So for your own safety I won't tell exactly how I managed to tie myself.
So I did... something... with the cloth belt and ended up with my arms in a very secure box tie behind my back. My hands were facing in opposite directions, pinned to my back as well.
You know what happens next, but I didn't. When I used to do self-bondage, especially if I was trying something new, I honestly didn't know if I could get out or not. Usually I would make sure I could escape before getting myself all the way stuck, but this time I had complete blind faith that I would be able to slip my hands out.
I played around for a little while. It's very dangerous to run the risk of getting stuck, but it's also exhilarating. It kind of simulates being tied up by someone else in the same way as when I tie myself inescapably and leave a knife to get out. I had fun, but eventually I did start to worry that I wouldn't be able to escape, and I decided to try pulling my wrists out of the box tie.
I couldn't.
I couldn't at ALL.
...
...
...
Now, even in situations like these, I very rarely panic. I have a tendency to keep a cool head even in the face of complete disaster.
...
I think it's getting tighter.
...
It's cutting into my hands, isn't it.
...
OH GOD OH FUCK I'M GOING TO DIE
I CAN'T DO ANYTHING I'M STUCK LIKE THIS I'M GOING TO DIE LIKE THIS
OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD IT CAN'T END LIKE THIS
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
Okay, it wasn't THAT bad, and I doubt it would actually have cut off my blood flow, but it was getting very uncomfortable and I was full on panicking.
I desperately tried to think
and
oh my knife is in here. I can probably use that.
How in the WORLD am I going to find this thing?
I very awkwardly moved around my room looking for it. Remember, my legs are still tied, and I did try but I couldn't free them at all.
THERE it is. What a terrible place for it to be.
But I thiiiink I can get it.
After some effort, I got it.
Please let this work...
FUCK!
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK
It didn't. Turns out it was nowhere near strong enough to cut through the cloth belt. You'd think I'd have learned my lesson after that duct tape incident I also wrote about, but here we are.
I kept trying to cut the belt and felt the blade nick the tip of my finger. This is pointless... I can't cut myself out with this.
I debated making my way downstairs to grab a bigger knife or scissors and cut myself out, but at this point, the belt was pressing very deeply and painfully against my wrists, and I decided not to risk cutting my fingers or tightening the belt any more. Both of my parents were attending an event some 20 minutes away from home and would be back in several hours. I feared that if I didn't get out soon, though, I might actually lose circulation in my wrists.
Oh man... Do I really have to do this?
...
Okay. Fine.
My phone was annoyingly in the very middle of my desk. I managed to grab it after some effort. I put it down on the edge of the desk, turned towards it, and started thinking about how to call my parents.
How...
How exactly do I do this?
Well, if I was able to grab it, I should be able to touch the screen. I turned around and felt the screen with my very effectively bound and nearly helpless hands. I pressed my finger against the home button and, reading my fingerprint, my phone unlocked and opened to the home screen. From there, theoretically, I could open the "phone" app and call either of my parents from speed dial.
I turned around to get an idea of where the app icon was and was a little surprised to see specks of blood all over my phone. It made sense, considering I had cut my finger just a moment ago, but I certainly wasn't expecting to see it. I turned back around and, after a little effort, made my way into the app and attempted to call my mother.
It started calling... and... no response.
Oh SHIT.
Well, I tried again. And a third time. Nothing happened.
That isn't good.
I tried my father. Nothing again!
But when I tried a second time, thankfully, he did pick up.
Here we go...
For clarity, from this point onward, anything written in bold (like this) is from him, and otherwise is from me.
"What's going on? Are you okay?"
I didn't want to scare him too much, but I did definitely need his help.
"I need your help. Something happened and I... I need help."
"What happened?"
Oh, don't do this to me. I don't want to say this out loud!
"I... got stuck."
"What did you do?"
Oh, for fuck's sake.
"You know how I used to..."
Ahhhhh I hate this I hate this I hate this
"...tie myself up?"
"Yes..?"
"Well, I did it again, and I got stuck, and I need you to let me out."
"Okay. I'll be right there."
He hung up.
There wasn't really anything to do but wait until he got home. I made my way to my bed and kneeled in such a position that he could easily reach and untie my wrists.
Maybe 15 minutes later, I heard someone racing up the stairs and towards my room. Then the door opened and he walked in.
He... laughed?
I said hi.
"Hiiiii!"
I hardly recognized my own voice.
"I got stuck."
"...Hi."
"Why did you laugh?"
"I wasn't expecting it to be so... elaborate."
Huh. It had been a long, long time since either of my parents had caught me, and I suppose I had gotten a lot better since then.
Oh, don't just stand there!
"Can you..?"
He went behind me and I felt his hands against mine. I probably should have told him how to untie me, but hell, I couldn't really think at the moment. I bent down and buried my face in my blanket, partially in relief, partially in shame.
For all my worry in the moment, there's something to be said about someone else untying you. I felt my binds shift and loosen as he pulled at them trying to free me. It was wonderfully relieving to know that I didn't have to get out all by myself, and that all I could do was sit there, motionless.
"I hope you're not too upset."
"Not at all. I'm just glad you're okay."
I had no idea what was going on, but the belt was definitely getting looser. After maybe two minutes of his focused untying, I was just barely able to slip my hands out.
"Oh, thank fuck."
I immediately rubbed my wrists and was a little surprised to see my pinky finger coated in dried blood with a little slit at its tip. It looked so much more dramatic than it felt.
With my legs still bound, we hugged each other, and he got up and went to the door.
"Be... please be careful next time."
"I will. I promise."
He walked out of the room, closing my door behind him.
I didn't tie myself up for quite some time after that.