Once upon a time, I got 4 pairs of hinged metal police handcuffs. The reason for the number was they were intended to go on wrists, elbows, ankles and around the base of my breasts. However, my breasts proved to be a bit too big and firm to fit in those cuffs, so the fourth pair was instead sometimes used for hogties, linking ankle cuffs to wrist cuffs, sometimes more strenuously to elbow cuffs. It was a bit of a disappointment, because it would be kind of neat to be having a uniform tie with the same kind of cuffs all over.
With breast bondage, I discovered my breasts seem to be adapting, so a tie that starts out tight can be tightened more after a while, especially noticeable with the leg irons I got and used instead of the smaller handcuffs to cuff my breasts, and with zipties, both of which can be easily tightened more after the original tying. However, I never thought the breasts could be compressed tight enough to handle the handcuffs, at least not without risk of serious injury to the breast tissue. A recent experience with metal hose clamps, slowly tightened to what I would have believed was impossible tightness, cast some doubt upon that prejudice though. I never checked the exact measures but was pretty sure the hose clamps ended up about as tight as the handcuffs would require.
So, I decided to test the hypothesis that with enough time and strain, my breast would adapt enough to fit in the handcuffs. The most natural test would probably have been to use the hose clamps, for the “pre-compression”, but even if it was real hot having someone else tighten them on my breasts while I was quite helpless, I didn’t feel comfortable with doing it myself, for several reasons I won’t go into detail on.
My choice instead became a trusted old option, using rubber bands. They come in a lot of different sizes, and when I first discovered their potential in breast binding, they were what’s called size 64, which are defined as 3.5″ (88.9 mm) long when relaxed, doubled and flattened, and 0.25″ (6.35 mm) wide when relaxed, usually about 1 mm thick. That gives a diameter of about 57 mm when relaxed around a rounded object, and a pretty comfortable tie around the base of my breast, if only one or a few are used. However, the more are added, the tighter the tie becomes.
Somewhere along the line, I found the size 62 rubber bands, which are defined as 2.5″ (63.5 mm) long when relaxed, doubled and flattened, and like the size 64, 0.25″ (6.35 mm) wide when relaxed, usually about 1 mm thick. That gives a diameter of about 40 mm when relaxed around a rounded object, and a much more firm tie around the base of my breast. They also add a kind of burning and itching sensation to the skin, which isn’t really comfortable or arousing in itself, but fits with the concept of uncomfortable or painful additions to prove how helpless I am to do anything about them while tied up.
I decided to add as many rubber bands as I could handle, believing that would speed up the breast adaption the most. Having a 1-pound box with around 600 rubber bands size 62, I was pretty sure I would run out of pain tolerance long before I ran out of rubber bands. At 12 rubber bands around the base of each breast, the discomfort had turned into pain, manageable but since I guessed it would take some time for my breast to adapt, I didn’t want to push it. The bands cut quite deep into the flesh and looked about as painful as they felt, and I felt both my breasts and pussy start to tingle, the former probably mainly from restricted blood circulation and the latter definitely from arousal, despite the very seriously and scientifically intended test.
Arousal and induced numbness helped me endure the half hour of breast torture I had figured might be enough before trying to fit the handcuffs around the constricted bases of my breasts. It turned out I was either quite the genius in estimates, a pro in precognition, or just dumb lucky, because when I tried fitting the handcuffs, I could just barely tighten them to their first notch without too much effort or pain, a little bit more on my right breast than on my left breast though, due to their natural slight asymmetry. I decided to remove the rubber bands once the cuffs were in place, getting the bonus of some extra pain, as I had to pry some of them out from under the cuffs. But the pain when the rubber bands were gone was quite a bit less than with both rubber bands and cuffs. I could actually even tighten each cuff another notch without the pain becoming too bad.
When I was done, I couldn’t help but admiring the result in the mirror, and inspecting it with my hands as well. It was painful, and the breasts were very swollen and bulging, but it looked more brutal than it actually felt, and it aroused me a lot, both the sensations in my breasts, the view, the “brutality” in it, and having managed something that I had believed impossible for so many years. It was intended as just a test run, but I was so aroused that my body and mind demanded the full mounty by then.
As my sex-hazed mind tried to make up a quick scenario, I knew the toughest part would be the elbow cuffs I wanted, to fulfill the original intention with the four pair of cuffs. I had tried out ways both to lock my elbows and to unlock them myself, but the former was at best difficult, at worst almost bone-cracking painful, and the latter was possible, using a key fastened to a stick, but cumbersome and very time-consuming even when I was focused, rested and in a calm test situation. I had realized it would probably be impossible in a real situation when I was trembling and shivering from arousal, strain and exhaustion, so I had actually never used the elbow cuffs for “real” self-tying.
I decided to skip the timer release and instead use my “spare key”, an informed friend with keys to my apartment for everything from collecting mail and watering flowers if I was away, to be able to rescue me if my self-tying went wrong. Lately, she had actually been nagging me quite a bit that it would be OK if I didn’t always manage to free myself, but she had to come and help me out. So far, I had never needed it though, except in a few situations where I had been explicitly instructed not to have a timer release. But it felt like this was the moment to take her up on her offer.
I texted her “Are you available 15:00?” and got a response within seconds “Busy???” I was beginning to think she always had her phone in hand, or at least in her ear, even when sleeping, having sex or having a bath. I replied “Yes.” and got another quick response “Yay! Be real busy. I set alarm”. I actually giggled and didn’t feel one but guilty about “using” her after that reply.
I had decided to go all metal, almost at least, so I stripped my panties, got out the 3 remaining pairs of hinged metal police handcuffs, 2 pairs of metal thumb cuffs, 3 twist steel chains (60 cm dog chain collars really) and one longer chain, 4 padlocks, 2 dildos, one massive, semi-transparent, soft silicon 203×38 mm with a bottom plate and a large eye screw in its bottom, and one flesh-colored latex 203×64 mm with a strong vibrator, and 4 clover clamps with each a 500 g weight attached by a short chain.
Despite my pussy being really wet by then, it took some time and effort to work the full length of the thick dildo into it, stretching me both a bit painfully and very arousing, then wrapping one chain tight around my waist, padlocking it together front, with a second chain attached and hanging down my belly, pulling that second chain up tight between my labia and ass cheeks, before padlocking it to the waist chain rear. The chain forced the dildo even deeper into me and secured it there, with the smooth, soon warm and slick, metal deep between my labia, pressing and rubbing my folds and clit with every move.
I put a high, narrow stool under the ceiling hook, then a step ladder next to it, clamped one cuff of each pair of handcuffs around my left wrist, elbow and wrist, respectively, then the same with the thumb cuffs around my left thumb and big toe respectively, and used the waist chain as a tool belt for the remaining chains, padlocks, dildo and clamps. I left the keys to the cuffs and padlocks clearly visible on the floor under the stool, climbed up the ladder and attached the long chain to the ceiling hook, before stepping over to stand balancing on the stool and pushing the ladder out of reach. Balancing carefully and using the chain as a support, I bent down to lock my wrists and big toes together with the cuffs, then straightened again, wrapped the long chain under the hinges of the handcuffs holding my swollen breasts in a vice-like, both painful and arousing grip, pulling it up so tight I needed to stand balancing on my toes, neither easy nor comfortable with my big toes locked together, before locking it in place with another padlock.
Knowing the final additions would be pretty painful, I turned on the vibrator of the dildo locked in my pussy to high to mitigate the coming pain some. The vibes didn’t just work my interior, but also spread through the chain to give an arousing buzz on my clit, anal sphincter and perineum as well. It would definitely keep me from getting bored in the next hour or so.
I hesitated for a few seconds on what to add next, but decided on what I deemed as the lesser of the evils, pried the remaining dildo from the chain belt, put its head into my mouth and wetted it with my tongue while slowly pushing it deeper into the back of my mouth and down my throat, until it was all in and the bottom plate was pressing against my lips. I held it in place with my teeth, struggling a bit to control my gag reflex and breathe around the intruder, while I threaded the remaining chain through its bottom metal eye, wrapped it around the rear of my neck and locked it snugly in place with the last padlock, securing the dildo deep down my throat.
The hard and heavily weighted clover clamps were the last additions, but by then the situation and the buzzing dildo had made me so hot I welcomed the pain as they bit hard into my nipples and labia, the heavy weights stretching them cruelly. It then took a bit of a struggle and a few attempts to fit the open elbow cuff around my right upper arm, in the right position just above the elbow, and closing it by pressing my arm against my chest, but I finally managed. I grabbed the final padlock from the waist chain before locking my wrists together and then secured the hinge to the crotch chain rear using the padlock, so there would be no waving about, getting any notions of trying to remove the painful clamps from my nipples or labia. The thumb cuffs were pretty much overkill, but I still liked it when I locked my thumbs together and added that redundant extra little security to my ties.
It was done and I was really stuck, the knowledge there was no safe timer that would eventually set med free but that I was totally dependent on my “spare key” dropping by to release me, adding quite a bit to the thrill of my predicament. Balancing on my toes to keep the breast cuffs from torturing my breasts too badly was a lot more cumbersome than usual, with my toes cuffed together and the cuffs preventing me from pushing the toes against the stand. I had read that suspending people by police cuffs, although usually around the wrists then, was a common torture practice in parts of the world, and even if I suspected the hard and thin metal jaws pressing hard against and maybe even breaking bones in the wrist was quite a different and worse pain than them biting into the soft undersides of the breasts, previous agonizing experiences with suspension from breast cuffs were convincing enough for me not to voluntarily seek that kind of pain.
The combination of my helplessness from the tight cuffs, pain and discomfort from the heavy clamps, the deep throat dildo, the oversized dildo stretching my pussy hard, the very tight cuffing of my breasts, making them bulge and throb achingly, and the intense pleasure from the strong vibes rattling my entire crotch, pushed me towards orgasm pretty fast. Staying balanced on the stool while my entire body convulsed again and again from the intense sexual blast was about equal parts of dumb luck and whatever focus I was able to maintain. The peril of being left dangling in agony from my breasts after tipping the stool over added both to my arousal and to my attempts to focus, even if my breasts probably carried most of my weight while my legs buckled during the overwhelming climax. And it happened not just once, but I lost count already after the third orgasm.
Eventually, my “spare key” arrived. Now, if she kindly released me as quickly as possible, or if she cattily teased, taunted and added some more to my predicament, I need to leave to the imagination of the reader due to a non-disclosure agreement. But released I was, and exhausted I was, and pretty satisfied (understatement!) with the experience I was as well, both happy and a bit proud with finally having been able to use the four pair of handcuffs the way they were originally intended, all those years ago. The traces of the tight cuffs are still more or less branded into my skin, especially around my breasts and elbows, but from experience I’d say that will have faded by Monday.