HOUDINI
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WORDS 3140
Personal experiences
THE JOURNEY
One
man tells how it happened for him
THIS
IS NOT FICTION
So here I am doubled up, a
bar under my knees, my arms under the bar, both tied to the bar. I am unable to
move and not at all comfortable. There's a canvas bag over my head and I've
lost any perception of where exactly I am in the room, this is after nearly 8
hours of being captured, stripped, searched and interrogated. My captor pulls
my head and legs closer together, I grunt with pain, he whispers in my ear
"Prisoners in
At this point you are
probably wondering what sort of trouble I had got myself into, where in the
world I was, some third world country with a bad human
rights record? Well no it was an innocuous terraced house in
The story begins when I am
in my late teens, and I started developing and interest in Rubber. The Sunday
papers used to have discreet adverts from people like Weather Vain and South
Bucks Rainwear advertising for "Rubber Mackintoshes". These adverts
interested me and started me on a journey of discovery. I can remember saving
up my first wages and travelling to Weather Vain in
Then I replied to an advert
in the Exchange and Mart. It was a private ad and had loads of stuff for sale,
Dry suits, gas masks, waterproof suits and more. I plucked up courage and
phoned up, and then visited. I met a very friendly, warm couple, who now after
fifteen years, are good friends, and who have given me some guidance along my
journey. I came away from that first visit with an Avon Dry suit in black
rubber, it was something I had dreamed of, and now I owned one. The two guys
I'd bought it off were very keen to meet again, and I maintained contact, at
arms length, and visited from time to time and tried on a few of the things in
their collection. I had never had any physical contact with another man, and
did not wish for it, but I was happy to get dressed up and enjoy sensations the
gear produced, and was happy that they got something out of the meeting and
seeing me in the stuff. I would have dearly loved to have shared my fetish with
my various girlfriends, but was too shy to risk broaching the subject, so it
remained my own little secret, which I was happy to keep to my self.
After about 5 years of
occasional meetings with the gay couple I eventually had my first overtly
sexual experience with another man, nothing too heavy, just a groping session
whilst we were both dressed in some rubber outfits. I left later that day
wondering what the hell I had done and whether or not I was Gay. I was
convinced that I was not, I had no physical attraction to another man, but only
a sexual attraction to the rubber gear he was wearing. The guy was just a
clothes horse. This may sound cruel, but I don't mean it that way, he is a very
genuine guy. A year or so later I met a guy, again through the Exchange and
Mart who was also selling some gear, and I ended up giving him a blowjob, while
he was dressed as a Policeman. Again, the image was the thing that turned me
on, but this time I was really worried. I had taken a step further down the
road and was really beginning to worry about my sexuality. I managed to discuss
this with a friend I had grown up with, and trusted, but he was not sure what
was going on. I decided that I knew my own mind, and that I had no attraction
to the person, only the image that they portrayed. The two gay guys I had met
years previously had acknowledged this fact, so I decided that I would carry on
broadening my horizons, and worry about the emotional bit later.
My tastes were being
broadened, I gradually realised that all sorts of rubber suits, wellies,
waders, gasmasks etc.. held
some attraction as well as a growing interest in police uniform, although I had
not yet purchased any police kit. As time moved on I started to travel further afield, my work as an engineer allowed me to buy gear
without arousing any suspicions, it was not unusual for me to have to wear
wellies or waders in my work, so why not buy the sort that turned me on. Some
people thought that I must go to work and be turned on at the thought of
wearing stuff that would turn me on, but no I always segregated the two, sure
it was nice to wear a pair of rubber waders, but I was always focused on work.
There was a time and a place for everything. I managed to build up a reasonable
collection and kept on adding to the collection as time and money allowed.
About 8 years ago I
answered another ad in the good old E&M, this
started a new friendship with a guy who had similar tastes, and he could get
hold of some of the gear. I bought a lot of new gear, especially the Firemans kit, which I was becoming interested in. We had a
few things in common and our friendship flourished, he was gay and very
experienced. We have never had any contact physically and he was happy for me
to enjoy myself. He tried hard to convince me that I was gay and reasoned that
the images that attracted me were almost exclusively Male,
and that I never had any hankering to get involved with women in the gear. This
was not strictly true, I had fairly old fashioned
views about sex with women, and believe that it should be part of a
relationship and not just something that you do for kicks. The fetish that
turned me on was separate and was impersonal. Although I would have loved to
have involved several of my girlfriends in my interests, I knew that it would
never be, as I could not risk them possibly publicising my secret, I was happy
to leave it that way.
As I continued to broaden
my horizons, the single guy continued to try and convince me that I was gay.
This was becoming disturbing as I was beginning to try out more things, and
with the Internet available now, my horizons were being broadened at an
exponential rate. I was seeing loads of new things, some of which I had heard
about, some I had seen, but not wanted to try and quite a few things that I had
not seen or heard about. I was following up all sorts of leads on the Net now,
and the vast majority of the websites that had stuff that interested me were
gay oriented. Again that niggled away in my mind. I tried to find sites that
were more heterosexual, but they tended to be mainly bored models posing or
stuff that did not interest me. So I was stuck with the option of looking for
the websites that interested me, but had a gay slant. The gay people that I
knew looked at the sites in a slightly different way,
they looked at the guys in the gear, whereas I just looked at the gear and the
images that the people portrayed. The sight of a policeman of fireman was a
very attractive image, the person that was behind that image was immaterial,
just as long as the image was credible.
With one person still
trying to convince me that I was gay, my stubbornness and self-knowledge kept
me believing that I was not gay. Other people that I knew, and whose views I
respected agreed and said that they could see my point of view. However I was
still experimenting with new things with this one gay friend. My reasoning was,
if he enjoys that so much, I'll try it once just to see what he gets out of it.
Some things I tried I liked others I disliked, this was starting to make me
wonder about whether I was not facing facts, just kidding myself along with
everyone else.
The next big step on the
journey came when I was talking about various websites and gear in general to
somebody who said that a friend of his was writing a story and would like a bit
of background information about the plot and some of the technical details. The
story was about a fire-fighter, who was tentatively interested in bondage, and
was on his own journey of discovery. He wanted someone who was experienced to
cast their eye over the story, and I'm a trained fire-fighter (among other
things).
The author e-mailed a copy
of the manuscript, which I read, and found very interesting, I rang the intermediary
and said that the story was very much on the mark, but there were a few things
that I felt I could possibly give some advice on. The friend suggested that I
contact the author direct and have a chat with him, which, I did. After a brief
phone conversation I had made an appointment to visit him and discuss things
face to face; which for me was a big step into the unknown.
I travelled up to
We discussed the story and
then went onto what I was interested in and where I stood at the moment. I told
him about the increasing doubts about where exactly I stood regarding my
sexuality, and the comments made by various people. He understood what sort of
a quandary I was in and explained that sexuality was not black and white /
straight or gay but a variety of shades of grey. There were lots of people that
he knew that were straight, but liked to play with other men. They had varying
degrees of attraction to men, some like me just liked the image, others wanted a more intimate contact. This made me feel a
lot better, at last I had found someone that understood how I felt and put my
mind at rest.
Later on he showed me round
his house, showing me his playspace, along with items
of bondage equipment, he explained how the items
worked and what the effects could be. I was interested, more out of curiosity.
I had always wondered what a strait jacket was like and he showed me several
types. The next thing I know he was putting me into one and strapping me up,
showing me the various features and ways to allow and stop escape. He then
showed me other devices including handcuffs and leg irons. I left that
afternoon with a new found curiosity.
Some weeks later he invited
me to visit again, this time to meet some other people who were on their own
journeys of discovery, both at different stages of development. I arrived and
the other two guys were already there busy discussing handcuffs and bondage
techniques. These guys knew their stuff from a practical point of view and were
obviously way ahead of me, but they listened to my story and later showed me
the intricacies of handcuffing procedure and the use of side-handled batons.
Turns out one guy trains the police for a living, but is interested in kinkier
stuff as well. We took it in turns to cuff each other, and tried out the baton
as well. Later we went to a local café and had lunch, all the while busy
discussing the merits of various different techniques. I sat back for a moment
and thought how weird it was that I was sat in a public place with three guys,
seriously into bondage, discussing how to handcuff and hog-tie someone in the most
efficient manner. Just as if we were talking about the best way to grow
vegetables. I left the meeting feeling that these guys were just like me, not
gay, but people who liked to play with men. I felt that I had finally found
some kindred spirits. I have never been one to be bothered about peer pressure,
I am not someone who feels they have to be with the "in crowd", and I
am happy to spend time on my own. I am not bothered by convention, and love to
think laterally. I get a real buzz out of solving problems, especially if no
one else can.
The other strange thing was
that I was becoming attracted to bondage. I suppose with the benefit of
hindsight, the police thing that interested me was an indicator that I was
showing an interest in what I soon learned to call Power Exchange and
restraint, rather than bondage, but only in a subliminal way. The surrender of
control, being arrested by a policeman appealed ... but this would be a
dangerous and completely new path.
I have always been used to
being in control, taking responsibilities, sometimes responsible for other
people's lives, having to be totally accountable for my actions. This was the
first step on that path, to have someone else take control of me and do things
to me that I had little or no control over.
Invited to subsequent
meetings I was shown techniques and was allowed to try them out. I was fought
into a straitjacket, by two guys just to try and prove a point,
that it could be done in a particular way. I was tied up and strapped to
various frames and contraptions to see how effective various methods were. I
was genuinely interested and keen to learn from both sides how the control and
surrender of control could be a powerful experience.
Several months down the
line and I was hooked. Having been given loads of material to digest, stories
of other people's journeys, I was keen to learn more.
The writer then contacts me
and says that there was someone he wanted me to meet. We arranged a
get-together, and the writer explains that this guy wants to be tied up and
given a relatively hard time. He sent me a story the guy had written outlining
his fantasies, and asks if I would be interested in helping him put the guy
through his paces. Of course I was. It was still a learning curve for me and I
was keen to try out the stuff I had learned on a stranger for the first time.
The guy who is recently
ex-army arrives at the house and changes into his cammo
gear and goes up to the playspace, he is ordered to
hood himself and face the wall. I got dressed up in cammos for the first time. I'd owned a set, acquired from
friends when I worked on various Army bases, but never worn them as fetish
gear. For the next four hours I tied the guy up in several different positions
and ended up suspending him upside down trussed up in a Sleepsack,
giving him a generally rough time and finally bringing him to orgasm.
Eventually the scene finished and I cautiously let him free, standing over him
wearing an Army helmet and armed with my police issue baton. Cautiously,
because he has been swearing that he will kill me when he gets out.
When he is free he smiles
and shakes my hand and thanks me for a great time. The feeling I got doing this
was brilliant, enjoyed myself, and the squaddie
enjoyed himself as well.
I went home thinking just
how far I had travelled in the last few months, and how much I had discovered
about Power Exchange and Surrender of Power. And, more
importantly, about myself. I had learned about broadening horizons and
not listening to people who cannot broaden their own horizons, but try to
preach to others. I was happy with where I was in the world, and felt that I
had found my own mind, and was happy with the situation.
This brings us to where the
story begins. After a couple more meetings with the squaddie
it was his turn to give me a run for my money, which he certainly did!!
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