crotch rope

the first punishment i ever gave myself was a crotch rope. i’d undress and wrap a leather belt very tightly around my waist so it wouldn’t slip at all. then i’d string the rope, which was cheap brown hemp rope from Dad’s shop, between my legs and labia and up through my bottom crack. then i’d tie it to the other side, looping it through the belt right near the small of my back and tying a good knot, or a couple of them if i wasn’t sure i had a good one.

i’d have to leave some slack in the rope at first, but i was able to get it very tight by looping it around my baton and turning the baton in front of my lower belly like a propellor. it was a full-sized baton, like for a majorette in a marching band, probably 2 or 3 feet long, so it gave me a lot of torque. i was still a bit of a girly girl at the time, and i still used my baton for twirling and prancing around with my friends, practicing our imaginary moves, just in case we became majorettes.

as the baton rotated, the rope would be cinched tighter and tighter, and the rough hemp would tighten, pulling between my tender labia and squishing my clit, which would unfortunately dodge to one side or the other, but it could only partially evade the punishment. i believe a thicker rope, one like sailors might use, would have worked better to trap my clit, but we didn’t have any. i know because i looked!

it was easy, or physically easy at least, to make it tight enough to really, really hurt. sometimes i actually did draw blood as i cinched the rough rope between the tender lips of my sparsely haired vulva. i was still a virgin of course, but i had begun masturbating. the rope would literally cut into me, and i could feel it the next day as my sensitive perineum, which invariably got the worst of it, would become quite bruised and chafed. the area at the top of my vagina would get caught between rope and pubic bone and get bruised and chafed too, whatever little bit of me got caught in there as I tightened the rope. there are a lot of nerves there, and it really mattered exactly where the rope cut in.

this was literally the first thing i did to punish myself for masturbating, long before i worked up the nerve to tell Daddy about my sinful habit. but in the clarity of hindsight, my self punishments were obviously foreplay for masturbation. so i was punishing myself for masturbating by working myself into a frenzy and masturbating again. but i didn’t make this connection until much later, when i knew God was watching me and it occurred to me that God could see through all my bullshit. which of course made me terribly ashamed, and of course that shame didn’t stop the masturbation… it ignited it!