From: Santa Fe NM
WELLLLLLLLLLL, I'm not a switch, but I will share a bit of 'self bondage' that happened to Me once...
As I've said before, I try everything I buy on Myself first to be certain it's safe.
One fine spring day I found (at a wonderful discount) a fabulous pair of Smith & Wesson handcuffs. Blue steel, they were the Kryptonite sub-brand and they shone in the case. I grabbed them. So what if there was only one key? I had another pair of keys at home!
Hone I went and began practising the one-handed cuff maneuver. Slap the open cuff against the wrist and *zing* the ratchet slides closed. Unlock, try again, unlock, try again I was getting My technique down when I stuck the tiny key into the lock and it turned VERY easily...
Too easily... The bit had broken off in the lock! There I was with a LAPD issue handcuff locked to My wrist and a broken key! Crap! But there WERE those other keys!
I hied Myself to My toybag for My other handcuff key. It was as cheap Taiwanese knockoff and... you guessed it... the key was twice the size of the S&W key. Uh - ohhhhhhhhh! What to do? I tried sliding my hand free. Nope. Nothing doing. Hairpin! Fugeddaboudit! Nothing! Wait! The hotel down the block! Security ought to have cuffs ... and keys!
Off I sped, one opened cuff dangling, the other clamped to My wrist, to the Hollywood Holiday Inn on Highland Blvd. I went in and found the security guard. "Could you unlock these? I was... uh... fooling around and..." I said, holding up My cuffed hand. "Sure!" the guard said brightly and reached into his belt... producing the very same cheap knockoff key that wouldn't fit the lock. DAMN! What to do NOW? I walked to Hollywood Blvd. Surely there would be a cop around...
Yep. there was one, all right. He pulled over his motorcycle as I beckoned him. "Uh... officer, I have a problem..." I held up My cuffed wrist expecting a grin and prompt unlocking. The LAPD have seen *everything*.
Immediately, he grabbed the other end, dangling free, and locked it to the frame of his cycle! WHAT?!! He picked up his radio and spoke into it:
"This is Officer Smith requesting wants and warrants on possible vacated suspect, female. one handcuff, auburn hair, hazel eyes, five foot two, medium build, Hollywood and Las Palmas."
Vacated SUSPECT!?! Suddenly, everything was getting FAR too real!
"No, uh... heh heh... Officer you don't understand... I... uh...." (Oh shit, oh shit oh shit, what have I *done*?!) "Y'see, I'm a... uh... a Dominant... into S&M and..." (Damn, this sounds fishy even to ME! Now they're putting my particulars out on the air! I can hear his cycle radio!) "You want to see My identification? Sure, here it is! See? Uh...." (With MY luck some prostitute who looks JUST like Me has gotten loose and...Ohhhh MAN!) "Heh heh! I've never even gotten a traffic ticket! Really, I'm just a harmless lovable fuzzball! Really, Officer, I'm...." As I fidgeted and tried to look innocent, he casually unsnapped his holster. Ohhhh, nooooooo!
Fortunately, before I'd expended 30% of my body weight in cold sweat, the radio crackled to life and the officer was told that nobody fitting My description had been reported escaping. He laughed at Me (I swear, I lost two inches in height just standing there!) and reached for his handcuff key. In two seconds he had the cuffs off and handed them back to Me.
"Mistress, huh?" he said and slowly removed his helmet.
He was a submissive I'd seen around at parties!
Why ME, Lord?
To his credit, he never told anyone... or at least nobody ever told Me if he did. The bastard had *recognised* Me from the beginning, but was playing with My head!
To this day, I made CERTAIN I have THREE keys for every pair of cuffs I buy.