Self-bondage — mindful kink
How the quarantine turned my kinky hobby into mindful escapism
We all experienced it. The complete destruction of our routines, plans, and social life caused by the Covid-quarantines that swept most countries. Suddenly, we were unwilling prisoners in our own homes; for some, it was a revelation, a time where busy families reconnected, parents got involved in their childrens lives on a new level, for others it was a harsh wake-up call.
I live alone. It might seem sad, being a woman in my late thirties, but it is a choice I made a few years ago, after failing to juggle yet another relationship with my time-consuming career (which I love). I do well on my own, and a small army of close friends (and a few booty calls to scratch the itch when it arises) keeps loneliness at bay, but the quarantine denied me access to my social circle for a long time.
In my younger days, I had experimented a lot with bondage and BDSM, often being reckless in my quest to find the next thrill; there is a lot of stories to be told from those days, a lot of lessons learned, but since my career started kicking into high gear, I pulled back, not wanting to risk being ‘outed’ as a kinky, submissive woman in an environment where women were already having a hard time making headway. The desire to be bound did not go away, though, and I started experimenting with self-bondage roughly ten years ago.
As the image of the start of this story suggests, my drug of choice is metal restraints; handcuffs, shackles, collars, leg irons and so on. I have amassed a decent collection over the years and could probably be called an ‘expert’ on metal self-bondage by now, but the quarantine put this hobby of mine in a whole new light.
The kinky workday
The quarantine did not drastically alter most of my daily routines when it first hit. I still exercised, worked every day (from home), and made sure to call my friends and family on a regular basis. I did play more video games than before, and probably binged a few more Netflix shows, but other than that, the first few weeks were pretty mellow.
When boredom started setting in, I did two things that radically changed how my days went: I started writing erotica (for fun), and I did self-bondage more often. A lot more. The two things meshed together; I only wrote, and still write, BDSM-themed erotica, drawing on my own experiences, and being shackled while writing became a source of inspiration.
I started walking around my apartment while wearing leg irons and handcuffs, participating in Zoom-meetings while hiding my shackled hands beneath the table, and playing video games and watching shows while restrained. It felt forbidden, arousing, and I started seeking new ways to expand my repertoire — this opened a whole new world to me.
The submissive mind
Many would say that self-bondage is an amputated form of BDSM — hollow, half-baked, even kind of sad. The thing is, I know what I like. Johnny Everyman, who calls himself a ‘rigger’ because he has a cheap pair of furry handcuffs and chains you to a radiator for two hours does not (that was a bad evening). My main fetish is not the whippings or spankings, nor the play between a dom and a sub. I like the restraints. I like the sound, the feel, the weight of metal, and I can get that fine by myself.
Before the quarantine, however, self-bondage had purely been a masturbatory aid, a way to ‘get off’, but it has since morphed into a form of self-therapy, an escape from the norms and expectations of society. If I am tied up with no chance of escape, no way to answer pestering phone calls, no way to check my emails or clean the apartment, I am forced to handle my thoughts, the signals from my body, and the arousal from being tied up only helps with that.
Imagine yourself lying on the floor, your wrists and ankles cuffed together in a strict hogtie. They are connected by an ice-lock that will not release you until the ice thaws, which it eventually will. You cannot reach the keys until then; you struggle, feel the restraints limit you, the aching limbs demanding your attention as time goes on. Are you thinking about work? No, you’re focused on every subtle movement of your body, trying to alleviate the strain on your shoulders and back.
The strenous ties became a daily workout, interspersed with hours of ‘casual’ bondage, working and writing while in handcuffs. I still do it to this day, even though society is getting back to normal. It gives me a room to escape, a place to handle the stress of modern life; everything else seems to fade into the background when you are collared to the wall, not knowing when you will be released…
I do want to end on a cautionary note. I have years of experience with this and is extremely careful when I plan out my self-bondage sessions. I would not encourage anyone to try it, not without reading up on it (there are great resources online), and preferably with someone else present at first, or at least nearby in case of emergency.
