Part 1 - Preparation

I awake early, intrinsically realizing that today is the day. I have know that this day would come; planned a hundred times in my mind how it might unfold, seduced by the finality of it. Today is the day.

A cup of coffee brings me to full awareness and my preparation begins. Everything that follows must conform precisely to a plan that is being dictated by a voice in my head, my companion self, present since childhood.

I am not a true split personality: the voice of self destruction that has been my whisperer was created subconsciously. It is the part of me that sought to find a reason for the years of childhood physical abuse; the voice of unworthiness.

The voice tells me that it must have been my fault, that no one would be that cruel for no reason, that I am guilty. Knowing this to be flawed logic has not stilled the voice, it constantly whispers it's message driving decades of self destructive behavior. Today is the day I finally silence the voice.

I take the box that contains the hair clippers from the closet and begin my preparation. Adjusting the cutter to the shortest setting, I proceed to shave my head as closely to my scalp as possible. When finished I proceed the do the same to the rest of my body hair with the clippers, vacuuming up the mess afterwards.

I take a shower next, using a razor to remove any remaining stubble rendering my face and body as smooth and hairless as possible. I'm not sure what this compulsive removal of bodily hair represents; perhaps a return to the hairless state of infant innocence. The voice just wants it done is all I know.

Next comes the chastity device; the pink cb3000 unit, with the most severe 'points of intrigue' sandwiched in super-glue between the ring and tube, secured in place around my genitals with a steel bolt locked through the three pieces. A final lock through the ring piercing in the end of my penis insures that there will be no escape from the device.

This is a ritual I have performed in a multitude of ways since childhood: the negation of my male self. It represents my internalization of comments made to my father by my mother during heated conversations about his seeming disdain for me that he "obviously wished that I had been born a girl". Strange but true.

The device in place, I take the keys to the padlocks and cut them into pieces with a bolt cutter. The second step, following my complete body depilation, in travelling down a path that I can't/won't turn back from easily. I paint my toenails and fingernails the same color as the device.

Next I dress: white support stockings, held up by a simple white cotton garter belt, a throwback, I'm sure, to the times that I, as a boy, I dressed similarly, wearing a panty with attached garters and stockings, both pilfered from my mother's lingerie drawer under my clothes as I traversed my paper route on bicycle.

Next come the silicone breast forms, held in place with a white, lace trimmed, underwire cup brassiere. The difference this time from the multitude of times I have previously worn them is that I have glued the breast forms to my denuded chest with super-glue; yet again another indication of the last-time permanence of the situation.

I finished off my ensemble with pearl stud earrings, the disk backs of which I super-glued to my earlobes and a 6 gauge, 1 inch diameter, 'bull' captured ball ring through my nose piercing, spot gluing the ball in place with super-glue. At this point I paused to let the glued pieces of my outfit dry and began to plan my next moves.


Part 2 - On the Way

I pull a pair of black socks on over the stockings and then a pair of jeans. A t-shirt and a loose fitting hoodie and tennis shoes complete the cover-up. It's now time to select my travelling gear and place it into a backpack.

I chose a litre bottle of water, a small container of lighter fluid, a new lighter, the super glue, two fifths of whisky, a bottle of painkillers and 4 hits of LSD.

Added to that are a pair each of steel handcuffs and ankle cuffs, several lengths of stout chain, assorted padlocks, a ring of keys, a pair of high heels, a ball gag, earplugs, a butt plug and a leather hood with attached locking collar. The hood has nose and mouth openings only. This completes my travelling bag.

It is night by now. I leave the house with the loaded backpack and walk two blocks to a parked car. I had purchased the car for a couple hundred dollars the week before and had stolen a license plate from a car parked at a local mall the prior evening. I retrieved the stolen plate from under the front seat of the auto, put it on the car and loaded the backpack into the car's trunk.

Heading north, I drove for a little more than an hour I eventually parked the car at an abandonex gas station, It is now late evening and quite dark. Removing the license plate from the car, I toss it across the road into a water filled ditch. I then take the backpack and begin hiking north along the highway.

I walk several miles in the dark, taking care to avoid being seen by the occasional passing car. Finally I reach my intended destination, a Fish and Wildlife Area. It is now well after midnight as I hike into the woods. I find a secluded area well into the forest and bed down for the night.

I awake from a fitful sleep the next morning, crack open one of the bottles of whisky and take a big gulp. It burns all the way down. Taking the map and compass from the backpack, I determine my location to the best of my ability and chart a course into the forest, seeking out its densest most secluded area.

After spending most of the day working my way into the depths if the forest I settle on an area situated in a small depression and surrounded by a thicket of thorny wild raspberry bushes. From the looks of the matted vegetation at the bottom of the depression is appears that the site has been the hiding place for deer.

There is a 10" diameter oak tree in the approximate center of the bowl which has bark that has been rubbed smooth in places, reinforcing the observation that this is a longstanding hiding place for deer, their refuge from hunters, secluded, a perfect place for the next step of my plan. I gather a few sticks for a fire and wait for dusk, the opened bottle of whisky my only companion.


Part 3 - Meeting the Devil

As dusk approaches I build a small fire. When it is burning sufficiently I empty the backpack of its items and strip my hoodie, t-shirt, jeans, socks and shoes off. I douse them with the contents of the container of lighter fluid and place them onto the fire. I finish off the first bottle of whisky as I watch the flames devour my backpack and clothing.

There is now no turning back unless I want to try to hike out of the forest dressed in garter-belt, stockings, bra and glued in place falsies. I throw the empty whisky bottle into the surrounding underbrush and open the second one. I must make haste to complete my final preparations before I lose the light of the waning fire.

I start by wrapping one end of a 10' long chain around the base of the tree in the center of the site and padlocking it in place. Next I take the pair of high heels and, after liberally coating the inside of each with super-glue, put them on my stocking clad feet. I could feel the wetness of the glue on the soles of my feet as it penetrated the stockings. Soon they were bonded permanently to my feet.

I followed up quickly with the ankle cuffs, clicking them each snugly around my right and left ankles and triggering the safety catch on each to keep them from tightening further. I then did the same with the handcuffs, clicking them each snugly around my right and left wrists and activating their safety catches. The handcuffs and ankle cuffs now securely in place I disengaged their keys from the keyring and threw them into the surrounding raspberry bushes.

I sat down to relax for a moment beside the dying embers of the fire, opening the second bottle of whiskey and taking a long draw from it. I throw a couple of small sticks onto the coals and wait for them to ignite to give me enough light to complete my preparation. The repeated draughts of whisky warm me.

I search through the pile of contents from the backpack for the 18" length of chain and, finding it, I padlock an end of it to each the right then left ankle cuff. I then locate take the last piece of chain and encircle my waist tightly with it and padlock it in place, leaving the short tail of extra chain dangling in front of me. I attach this to the padlock on my chastity device.

I'm nearly ready now. I finish the bottle of whisky, washing down the four hits of LSD and the contents of the bottle of pain-killers with the last of it. Then, pulling taut the chain attached to the tree, I padlock it to the center backside of the chain encircling my waist. I now have a restricted radius of movement of approximately 8' around the tree; not enough to reach the bushes encircling the hollow where I am.

I am starting to feel the effects of the alcohol/drug cocktail as the LSD begins to manifest with the particular anxiety that I had come to recognize over my prior years usage of the drug as my normal reaction. The dosage I had just taken was four times stronger than I had ever ingested before, a fact accelerating my anxiety.

Time to complete my plan. Taking the superglue, I coated my upper and lower lip with a line of it and strapped the ball gag around my head, buckling it tightly behind my head, imbedding it in the glue. When the glue had set I would be rendered effectively mute. I followed this with the earplugs, coating them with glue before inserting them into each of my ears. There was total silence with the exception of the pulsing of my heart in my ears

Then, after locating the last of the padlocks I had brought, I tossed the whiskey bottle and the empty pill bottle into the surrounding bushes. The butt-plug was next, coating it liberally with glue, I quickly inserted it into my asshole. I was now rendered speechless, and deaf, chastised, dressed in women's underwear and heels, hobbled and chained to a tree in a remote, secluded spot in a forest.

The LSD was beginning to come on strong by now, the effects of the painkillers barely noticeable except as manifested by the increasingly shallow breaths I was taking through my nose. I was counting on the whiskey/painkiller combination to mitigate at least the onset and duration of the experience, eventually ending it by totally suppressing my breathing thus ending my life. I wanted to go out in a blaze.

I doused the remains of the fire with the bottle of water and tossed it, along with the keys remaining on the ring as far into the bushes as I could. Now there was no way to free myself from my chain tether even if I had wanted to. As the panic of that realization began to set in, fueled by the drugs I had taken, I struggled to complete my incarceration.

Taking what was left of the super-glue, I coated the top of my head, my nose, cheeks and my neck with it then quickly pulled the leather hood onto my head, buckled the collar in back and padlocked the hasp. In addition to my other sensory impediments, I was now rendered sightless in a hood that would soon be permanently bonded to my head and face.

Groping in the darkness, illuminated only by the the LSD inspired inner light pattern hallucinations occurring behind my eyelids, I located the last two remaining padlocks and, with some difficulty, locked the wrist cuffs onto my waist chain on either side of my body. I was now in a complete panic; it was only the voice that had driven me to complete this degradation.

I began to envision my death and the subsequent death of that voice. The LSD is now peaking and my breathing is becoming more and more labored. I lunge madly, testing the limits of my chain tether, circling the tree blindly, unable to hear or cry out my anguish. The voice is shouting loudly in my head, proclaiming its victory.

I trip and fall down, face forward and, unable to stand, lay there and weep. My life is flashing before me in a myriad of mental images, each one more lurid than the one before. I see my chained body from above, laying on the ground convulsing, awaiting its eventual end.

Now the painkillers (I have taken enough to kill myself twice over) are starting to overwhelm the effects of the LSD and I and finding it harder and harder to breathe. The alcohol is magnifying their effect on my respiratory system and as I sink into lethargy the mixture explodes, filling my mouth with vomit. Unable to expel it, I desperately try to swallow it but am unable to. I inhale the vomit and gasping for air, pass out. The voice falls silent.