We come and go like a comet

We are wanderers

Are you anymore?

The land is green and you make it grow

And you gotta let go you know

You gotta let go you know

You gotta let go you know

Or else you stay

MANKIND GONE FROM THE CAGE

ALL THE YEARS GONE FROM YOUR AGE

At first

I was irridescent

Then

I became transparent

Finally

I was absent

The faint sound of the stylus lifting off the record could be heard through the headphones as David sat and looked at the drawing he'd been working on all evening. The Jefferson Starship album that just ended always left him somewhat melancholy.



Finally, I was absent.



He felt absent sometimes. At twenty-three years of age he had been through ten years of drug and alcohol abuse, a stint in the military, a failed marriage, and now a life of solitude.



He liked being alone, though. Removing the headphones and placing them on the table, David picked up his one-hitter and dipped it into the plastic baggie next to his table lamp. Not that he really needed to smoke anymore; he was already higher than a fucking kite, but he had plans, and those plans hinged on him being so high he would easily pass out.



It was Friday night...well, early Saturday morning would be more accurate, and David had been waiting all week for this moment to arrive. It had been very hard to wait, but the timing was just as important as being high. Everything he did now would be the result of months of trials and errors, and he knew there would be no errors this time.



Sitting at the table, drawing the warm smoke deep into his lungs and exhaling it slowly through his nostrils, David thought about the bondage artwork he had stashed in his dresser drawer. He didn't need to actually look at it; he'd seen it so many times every detail was etched into his brain.



He didn't fantasize so much about tying women up as he did about what it would feel like to be tied up. His dilemma was, he had no one to tie him up, nor did he know how to find someone to share that particular kink with. Just as his life had become, his kink was a solitary one, as well.



He'd had kinky thoughts since childhood. This was nothing new, just enhanced. The first time he'd done anything kinky was when he was eight years old. In the middle of the night, he'd walked stark naked to the basement of his house and had felt a thrill at performing that act. He didn't know what had prompted him to do it, but the feeling was one he would never forget.



A couple of years later, he would find himself stripping down in public places and frolicking about, getting more and more aroused the further from his clothes he ventured. His fantasies went wild as he imagined some peril or predicament that had resulted in the scenario being acted out, and most ended in a mind blowing session of self-gratification.



David knew this was sick. What the hell was he doing?! What if he got caught? How embarrassing would that be? Holy crap!



But even that sense of humiliation began to arouse him, and rather than deter him, it pushed him into riskier and riskier exploits.



Somewhere along the way the thought of being bound snuck into his head. Maybe it was from watching TV and seeing the heroine struggle as she was bound and held captive by the villain. Who knows? But as if a light switch had been flipped on, David's fantasies progressed from voyeurism to bondage.



Years later he would wonder why he never bought real bondage gear. He lived alone and certainly had the money and the opportunity. It just never occurred to him. In its place, he figured out ways to tie himself up using items he had around the house. Too, this was a time before the invention of the Internet and David had never even heard of the term 'self-bondage'. It was just something he did to fulfill his own fantasies. He did it so that he might feel what the bound women in the magazines might be feeling.



Sufficiently high, David turned off his stereo and then switched off his table lamp. It was the only light that was on in the house, but even with it off the house was not all that dark. Light from the street light out front was bright enough to allow him to find his way around the house.



Walking through the kitchen and into the bedroom, David picked up the bicycle lock that was on the bed. He locked it and then used the key to open it. That seemed pretty senseless since he owned only one bicycle lock, but it was done to reassure himself that the key did, in fact, work in that particular lock.



Taking the key with him, he walked through the small home to the front porch. The three-season porch had stucco walls that rose about four feet off the floor on three sides, the fourth side being the front of the house. Atop the short walls were storm windows and on one side there was a screen door leading out to the front walk.



It had been a hot day and David had raised all of the windows on the porch, and in the house, earlier in the day. With the slight breeze coming through the screens it felt nice and cool on the porch. He made sure the screen door was unlocked and then turned to head back into the house.



Standing in the doorway, facing away from the porch, David took the key from his pocket and tossed it behind him onto the porch floor. He purposely didn't look back to see where the key had landed.



Leaving the door leading into the house wide open, he headed back towards the bedroom, raising all of the window shades as he went. When he got to the back door, he opened that too, making sure the screen door was unlocked.



Heading into the bedroom, he closed the door behind him and turned on the light. Everything he needed now was on the bed, left there hours before to make the final preparations go as smoothly as possible.



Without any sort of handcuffs, David had struggled for months to find a way to tie his hands securely and still be able to get free in the end. Using ropes never worked out because he could always wiggle free, finger a knot loose, or somehow slip out. That was such a buzz-kill! The whole point was to be bound and unable to get free.



The remedy turned out to be homemade wrist cuffs made out of 3M brand fiber tape. Taking his roll, David carefully wrapped a strand around his forearm just above his wrist. This was done with the non-sticky side facing away from his skin. After three wraps, the roll was flipped and eight or nine wraps were carefully added, one precisely on top of another. The tape was cut using scissors, and then pressed and compacted for several minutes.



The resulting tape cuff was molded into a seamless band that was impervious to being pulled apart. The end was virtually impossible to locate, and if it was found it was incredibly difficult to separate the layers. Molding the tape band where he did provided a slight space when it was repositioned over his wrist. This ensured adequate circulation for his hands, but was still tight enough to thwart pulling his hand out of it. That, he had proved, was impossible.



After repeating the process on his other wrist, David turned off the light, opened the bedroom door, and placed the scissors in an upper kitchen cabinet. The only way the tape cuffs were coming off was by using the scissors, so they had to remain out of reach.



With that done, the rest could be done in the pitch black if need be. Returning to the bedroom, David raised the blinds on the window and looked out into the darkness of the back yard. It was a small yard with an alley at the far end. On the other side of the alley were two apartment buildings. At two o'clock in the morning there were still some lights on up there.



Removing his clothes, David lay on his bed, face up. Reaching over to the bedside table he took a rubber belt and quickly slid it over his hardening cock. As stoned as he was, he was surprised to be getting an erection so soon, but it seemed his arousal at what lay ahead was overpowering the effects of the drug.



The belt had been a happy stroke of luck. Like most connoisseurs of bondage, David viewed simple everyday items for their bondage value. Ropes of any sort were a given; pulleys, rings, tape, ski masks, Chinese finger traps...whatever could be used to restrain any part of the body was viewed as possible gear.



This orange piece of hard rubber was the drive belt to a vacuum cleaner. It's diameter was such that it fit perfectly around the base of David's penis and his testicles could be pulled through one by one so that the belt rested firmly against his groin. The urgency in getting it fitted quickly was that if his cock was even semi-erect there would not be room to pull his testicles through. Too, with the belt properly seated, it was very difficult, and somewhat painful, to remove it while his penis was hard.



The hard rubber belt had been modified slightly by shaving away an area where it contacted David's cock. He had found that the stiff rubber forced his erection to point straight out, but by narrowing it a little in that one area it allowed for a more natural, and comfortable position.



Most importantly, the rubber cock ring had been worn for hours with no ill effects, so David could wear it now without worrying that his balls were turning purple!



To bind his legs, David used woven belts. Positioning his leg so that his ankle pressed against his bare buttocks, he threaded the belt through the buckle until he had pulled it as tightly as he could. The prong was then poked through the weave and the end of the belt was threaded through the loop on the other side of the buckle.



After repeating the process on his other leg, both of his legs were trapped in the bent position. This was a position David found to be highly erotic. His fingers gently stroked the sensitive flesh on his inner thighs before venturing to his stiff rod.



God! He was so damn hard! So many fantasies revolved around this position; legs bound and spread with no way to protect his most sensitive organ. There was enough light in the room to see his cock and balls, forced upward and prominently displayed; a single unit of vulnerability totally exposed.



David's cock twitched and he quickly removed his fingers. He knew from experience, cumming now would be a disaster. Moving on, he felt the bed sheet with his fingers until he located three rolls of cloth bandages. Placed with the bandages were two foam earplugs. Rolling them between his fingers he compressed them into narrow tubes and then inserted one into each ear. The foam quickly expanded to fill his ear canals.



The next part of his preparations was by far his favorite. David had tried different methods of blinding himself, including scarfs, ties, winter hats with duct tape, and reversed ski masks. None of those worked very well and the thought of how ridiculous they looked was another buzz kill. But the use of Ace cloth bandages was another story.



The first wrap went under his chin and over the top of his head. This route was repeated and then the bandage was brought around in back and out across his nose. Around and around his head he wound the bandage until he reached the end and tucked it between another layer to hold it in place. This was repeated with the two other bandages resulting in his head being completely, and tightly, covered in the cloth. The only area not covered was his nostrils.



The homemade hood felt awesome inside and out. The bandages were tight enough for David to feel the compression everywhere around his head. It forced his mouth closed and acted as a gag. His eyes had been closed when the wraps were placed over them, and now it was all but impossible to open them. Even if he did, there were too many layers to see through.



David's heart raced now as he approached the final two steps. Feeling for the last belt on the bed, he ran his fingers over the leather to make sure it was still buckled. The belt had already been buckled in the appropriate hole and it was important that it was still buckled.



Securing his arms had always been the hardest part of his act of self-bondage. Many deviations had been tried before this simple method was discovered. With the belt buckled at the diameter it was, David could wiggle his arms through the looped belt behind his back until it was maneuvered over his elbows. The belt forced his elbows towards one another, but not to the point of touching.



He had originally thought the bondage would be easy to slip out of, and indeed it was, until it was used in combination with the locked wrists. Locking the wrists together prevented that back and forth, up and down, movement needed to work the belt back down over the elbows.



With his elbows now secured, the only thing left to do was to slip the bicycle lock through his cuffs and click it shut. He reasoned that this was the point where most self-bondage aficionados would pause to ponder whether they really wanted to take that last step. Thoughts of getting caught, or having something go horribly wrong, would creep into their heads.



No such thoughts entered David's head, though. This final fantasy had been too long in the making. Everything had been done in the same manner that it had been done many times before, just not all at once. This was the first time he would act out this scenario from start to finish.



The long clasp of the bicycle lock was threaded though the two tape handcuffs and, without further thought, clicked closed. The entire process had taken less than ten minutes, but the hardest part was what lay ahead; he had to fall asleep.



This was the reason for over-indulging in the evil weed, and for the late hour. As horny as he was, he knew it would be tough to fall asleep, but he had to try. Laying down on his side, David soaked in the sensations of his bondage.



It was really fucking good and he knew it. The key out on the porch was his only means of release. The house was completely open to anyone who came to the door. Even though he was trying not to think, and to calm himself down, he couldn't help but to fantasize about someone coming in and discovering him as he was.



The neighborhood was relatively safe; he'd never even heard of a burglary in the area. No, it would be someone he knew that would walk in. That would be so embarrassing! The odds of that happening were slim, though.



Bit by bit, David was able to calm himself. Within ten minutes of closing the lock, he had fallen asleep.