HoudiniBear

Aww, thank you! X

(Not quite the end. Here's a little bonus-ball.)

10/
I don't think I escaped this one. It felt properly secure and all my attempts to shake, work or pick it loose got me nowhere. I put in a lot of spirited effort but, ultimately, stayed securely tied (if not necessarily securely gagged!).

I still miss TC. RIP, master rigger!

THE END

9/
I'm assuming no-gloves was TC's idea: he wanted to give me a "fighting chance" (and I think he also liked to see my very real attempts at finding and unpicking his knots with my fingernails).

Leather is great for a tie-up: it protects against rope burn and allows for a lot of rolling around.

8/
I can't recall whether I escaped from that tie or not - even after quite a few get-togethers and TC knowing my techniques very well, I occasionally got lucky and managed to loosen my bonds - but we switched it up for a second tie-up. I swapped the shirt for a close-fitting café racer jacket.

7/
TC liked gags but they weren't his primary turn-on, so tended to be a bit rudimentary compared with the very elaborate roping. I could generally work them loose with only a little sweat 'n' struggle.

6/
The gloves were always my suggestion, partly because I enjoy full (or as-full-as-possible) coverage and partly because I like the fantasy that my captor has forced me into some kind of finger-muffling gear to frustrate my (supposed) escape artist skillzzz.

5/
As is the case with, I suspect, most of us into bondage from an early age, his earliest rope model was himself - so he had particular experience of tying legs and booted ankles.

Arm/torso roping seemed different every time. I think TC took particular joy in improvising in the moment.

4/
Since TC took the pics, it's not too hard to see (from his choice of focal point) what he enjoyed! He particularly liked boots and tight leather jeans - and he liked to see someone genuinely struggle in his ropes.

3/
In those days, there were fewer options where leather gear was concerned: it was all still moderately expensive. I shoehorned myself into leather jeans and shirt from a Scottish manufacturer, Aero, donned TC's favourite pointy-toed western boots and he spun his characteristic web of thin rope.

2/
Having established that people here aren't put off by poorly-lit, badly-edited pre-smartphone pics, I thought I'd post more of an occasion (in, I think, 2005) where I got together with TC for a tie-up session that included his choice of black western boots and my choice of leather clothing.

1/
Previously, I posted about TC (sadly, no longer with us), a rigger I played with in the early '00s who was into an idiosyncratic combination of western boots and "smart" leather - a very 1980s combination, not without its appeal.

Here's the original thread: bsky.app/profile/houd...

More pics...

Part 2

The fight has begun, and @houdinibear.bsky.social is eager to smash the fox

#furry #furryart #art

It's maddening but impossible to resist that struggle.

He did say I was his favourite in terms of struggle. I used to think that annoyed rope tops (especially on the occasions I actually DID manage to free myself) but he reassured me he liked to see my genuine attempts at escape artistry - only to frustrate them, either with that tie-up or the next one.

5/
I'd have liked, for completeness's sake, to have those too-free feet tethered backwards to the chair and the second hood up too - maybe a blindfold - but, even as I had those thoughts, I had to concede that, squirm as I might, I stood no chance of actually escaping my hot, sweaty prison.

THE END

4/
The torso roping pinned my arms firmly downward, as did the ropes woven through the back of the chair, preventing me from shucking either ropes or "overcape".

I was torn between frustration at being securely immobilised and having my legs feeling weirdly more free than they should've been.

3/
"I'm going to leave you for a few minutes to make dinner. You'll be out soon."

In order to escape, I'd have to free my really-quite-well-tied hands, and there was virtually no leverage there: they were squeezed between my lower back and the chair, stuck beneath a further thickness of oilskin.

2/
It's a shame we have neither pics nor footage of the "overcape" going on, but he had to use both hands to get it over me.

C's commentary is hilarious:

"Are you going to get loose?"

(Me: *doubtful gagged noise*)

"I reckon you will because I didn't make it too tight, I just used a lot of rope."

1/
Feels like I'm milking the fisherman capture scene but people seem to like my blurry '00s pics so here's some screenshots from the accompanying video (which shows too much of my and C's face's to post here).

C, at this point, fully believed I was Houdini reborn. "Don't escape yet" he told me.

If people have read my kidnap/captivity story 'Cargo' (over on FetLife, I think, as well as elsewhere), it'll be pretty obvious that this particular tie-up was an inspiration.

The addition of a sort of oilskin "bondage overcape" was a stroke of genius and just the kind of overkill that gets me off.

I hope so. I know I only truly love a bondage scene if my captor is enjoying himself. It's partly why, if I actually DO escape, my triumph is diluted: I don't like the dom to feel he's failed in some way.

Best follow-on is "here's how I got free" then a second, more secure roping where I fail.

Not as much as the fun of DOING the struggling! It's the sweet spot for me: when I'm genuinely trying to get free, my attempts are getting me nowhere but Sweatyville and I eventually have no option but to take a break to cool down, lie there and think about my extremely diminished options...

10/
It's not always easy to identify the elements of a given bondage scenario that really Hit The Spot for me, but there's something unbelievably hot about the captor going the extra mile, introducing new elements of fiendishness to frustrate my escapology ambitions.

Gets me every time!

THE END

9/
Similarly, the judgey little part of my brain that never quite switches off was thinking, "he could've tethered the bound feet backwards to the cross-slat beneath the chair - to prevent possible kicking".

I was realising, however, that sandwiched in my layers of oilskin and rope, I was fucked.

8/
And the hoods! The inner hood (the one attached to my original oilskin suit) was pulled up in place over my gagged head. The second one was left around my neck and, while I'd have liked it done up too, I was really in no position to make suggestions.

7/
The chair had a slatted back, and the torso roping was systematically woven through the slats, so there was no way I could work it upwards or shrug it off.

More rope was used across my lap, to bind me downwards to the seat of the chair.

6/
The masterstroke! I can't recall where the idea came from - probably me in our online discussions and C running with it - but I'd been asked to bring a further piece of Guy Cotten oilskin, a long hooded smock. This was sufficiently voluminous to fit over my already well-roped frame.

5/
The gag. Inevitably, it was C's idiosyncratic favourite: a chunk of sponge held in place with a few rounds of duct tape beneath a plain white cloth bandage.

It wasn't the most secure of gags, partly because I sweat so damn much I can loosen the adhesive and spit the sponge out over the tape.

4/
I've noted before how riggers all have their own distinct style. C had roped relatively few men before he and I became regular playmates but he'd evolved a way of placing knots where fingers couldn't easily reach and attaching leg roping to torso roping so it wouldn't slip or be worked downwards.