bondage

Behind Closed Doors

· September 9, 2009 · Thoughts · , , , · 2 Comments

I thought we were done for the moment.

Others had watched, she beat me, brought me to tears, held me and then began to untie me.

The audience commented how hot our scene was then left, closing the door and and leaving us alone.

We weren’t done yet though.

She kissed the remainder of my tears away, telling me how happy she was with me and then kissed me.

Hard.

She didn’t bother removing the leather ankle cuffs from me, only removing my hands so I could hold her.

I was naked already and before too long so was she, pulling off her corset and underwear then pulling me to the ground.

She reached down and slid me inside of her. A gasp escaped us both.

She rode me, I held her hips and within a minute her eyes were rolling, her back arched and every muscle in her body singing.   

What’s the opposite of sympathy pains? Sympathy pleasure? That’s what I always feel. It’s like I’m mid-orgasm with her.

I moaned and and she quickly pressed her hand over my mouth. Just a few feet away outside that door people where socializing.

I can’t remember how many orgasms she had but before too long she was satisfied and slid off of me. The ache of feeling everything perfect in the world leaving my body overcame me and I’m sure I made a moan that said “please”.

I snuck outside the door, covering my arousal as best I could, grabbed my clothes and joined her again.   

There she was, smiling with that lustful grin she gets when she’s used me.

I melted.

Not all of me, but most of me.

“Fuck”, I said with a sigh and a smile.

“Fuck indeed” she smiled.

Tied Naked In a Field Of Grass

· March 20, 2009 · Thoughts · , , , · 31 Comments

I told this story to a friend recently and she encouraged me to share it here. Not sure if it’s too much information or not but….well….we’ll see:

I didn’t discover masturbation until later than most. After I did, I made up for lost time.

Growing up on a farm has its advantages. I remember a few days after I discovered orgasms I went out to a secluded field about a mile from the house, stripped naked and got on my back in a field, the sun keeping me warm while a cool breeze flowed over me. I’d spend hours doing this day after day. Hours.

Years and years beforehand I would tie myself up and imagine a strong attractive woman was capturing me. My daydreams weren’t sexual at the time, she’d just capture me and I really hadn’t thought of what she would do to me after capturing me. I’d even tie myself up and imagine different situations where women would abduct me.

After I discovered jerking off I connected the dots of my fantasy of my youth.

“Ahhhh, they’d capture me and fuck me”.

This opened a whole new world for me. I’d grab a handfull of dirty scratchy rope or twine from the barn and head out somewhere. Sometimes I’d tie myself naked to a fence-post with one arm free, other times I’d tie myself to an old rusty piece of farm equipment. I imagined myself being caught in a mechanical torture device where various women (usually Elle Mcpherson and her minions) would need to poke and prod and fuck me as part of some wicked plan (yeah I don’t get it either).

Once I tied myself up and was on the verge of orgasm when I heard a vehicle approaching, I frantically untied the complex knots and got dressed just in time to see a cousin approaching in his pickup. I made up some lame reason why I was out there, had some small talk and after he left I made sure to tie myself up for quick release.

I was a bit paranoid after that and would tie myself up in places that had a good vantage point for the long dirt road that went from our farm to the main road. One such place was on top of a metal grain bin. I remember the excitement of being more than three stories in the air, the feeling of cold metal on the back of my legs, ass and back.

Day after day that summer I would find a new ways to tie myself up, I discovered how lotion made it feel even better. Imagine a young man walking in a field, chasing cattle away from a sturdy tree, making sure they were out of site before he took a big pile of rope an a big bottle of lotion out of his school backpack.

One of my most vivid memories was the time I first ejaculated. For months I would have orgasms but nothing was actually produced from the orgasm. My body just hadn’t hit that point yet. One day that changed.

I had tied myself up with my ankles spread wide on a hay bale.

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I used the twine on the bale as a bondage point and had tied one wrist to one side and my ankles spread wide on either side of the bale as I was sprawled on top.

I started having what was one of my usual orgasms but it slowly started to feel different…stronger. I assumed it was because of the bondage but when I finally did achieve orgasm it came over me like a wave. It felt like gallons were coming out of my body. I was frozen with shock as I realized that.. biologically …I was now a man. (or at least I was in my head).

It felt so much more powerful than my old orgasms. I just had to do it again. Still bound I started again and finished again.

And again.

By the time I was finished I my body was covered. I hadn’t planned of course so I didn’t have a towel or anything to wipe it off except for my clothes. Thankfully there was a stream nearby and I quickly bathed in the warm summer sun, threw my clothes on and headed back home.

I added a towel to the items in my school backpack after that.

This is one of many reasons why I’m curious to try outdoor bondage with..you know…a woman someday.

Waiting

· February 13, 2009 · Thoughts · , , , , · 4 Comments

Why is the clock moving so damn slow?

Only a few hours and I’ll be submitting to her again.

I don’t know what she has in mind, I never do.

At this point I don’t care as long as she does it. Tie me up, beat me, tease me, fuck me.

There’s a good chance she’ll do all of it, leading up to it I’m craving all of it. When I’m actually with her I’m just a passenger and I’m more than happy to go wherever she wants to go.

I’m always craving things, aching for them beforehand but when the time comes I’m just happy to be there in whatever position she wants me in.

Will she be whispering to me to fuck her harder or will she be whispering to me asking how much I like getting fucked hard by her?

There will be a moment when she lets me release and shortly after moments later she may want me to again.

Will she want to watch? She has a way of making me feel objectified when she’s watching me.

The taste of her skin, her hands on my head while my head is between her legs.

There will be cuddling and in the morning I’ll make breakfast.

I can’t wait.

Why is the clock moving so damn slow?

Power Objects

· February 3, 2009 · Thoughts · , , · 9 Comments

I’ve heard the “oohs” and “aahs” when a dominant is drooling over a new toy or a kinky object that’s made it to their wish list. I’ve witnessed groups of women gather around as they show off their new toy while the others ask questions with big smiles on their faces and voice their jealousy. Their eyes glaze over and you know that whatever it is they’re thinking, it’s not nice.

The level that they geek out over a new toy is similar to the way I look and sound when I’m looking at a brand new Macbook Pro.   

Only when they do it, it’s sexy.

What’s running through the mind of a dominant when they’re holding a new toy or when they’re browsing a website for some new device? Are they thinking how the crop will make them feel or how it will make the lucky victim feel?

I’ve found that some activities put me into a deeper sub-space than others. Feeling something lock around my ankles and wrists or feeling rope circle around my skin doesn’t make me feel more submissive to the person but it does put me in a deeper headspace. A thwack from one crop may make me feel toyed with while another crop from the same person can make me feel like a piece of meat.

But I’m wondering if the reverse is true to the dominant.

Does locking someone up make a dominant feel more powerful? Does holding a leash connected to a collar bring a feeling of power and control as well?

Do some items do it more than others?

Fuckless Fucking

· January 22, 2009 · Thoughts · , , , , , , · 5 Comments

Almost all of my experiences in BDSM have been non-sexual. That is to say, most of my experiences have been play that didn’t include penetrative sex.   

Up until a few years ago I never would have thought that any kind of play without intercourse would have been worthwhile. Back then I always felt it was something that was supposed to go hand in hand with sex. First the spanking, then the bondage, teasing and then the fucking. It was more of a kind of foreplay in my mind more than something that could be appreciated alone.

Then I moved to New York.

It was difficult to make the transition at first. The only people I’d play with would be those I also wanted to sleep with. That made me feel a little rejected at first. After all, I was playing with them because I was attracted to them, weren’t they attracted to me too? Wasn’t that the reason why they wanted to play with me?   

Over time I began to get used to the feeling of playing for the sake of playing. I could enjoy getting tied up or whipped and just enjoy it for what it was: Fun!

Sure I still have difficulty in reading some people at first. I’ll still sometimes have a barrage of questions running through my brain:

“Is she doing this because I’m fun to play with or because she’s attracted to me?”   

“Is she saying she want’s to do more than just tie me up?”

Most of the people I happen to have these mini-scenes with are those I’m already friends with. It’s much easier to let my mind go and enjoy the bondage, the flogging or whatever wonderful thing she’s putting me through. There’s something nice about just letting go and not needing to wonder about what comes next when I know that there is nothing next. I can just sink in and enjoy the experience.

It’s difficult do describe since there is a feeling of sexual tension and intimacy involved.  Especially when it’s with someone I know and like. There’s a closeness that comes from it. It’s unspoken but it’s there.

I like to think these experiences have helped me become a better submissive (Hmm Let me rephrase). I hope these experiences have helped me become a better submissive to someone I have a chance of having sex with. Most of the time I can just focus on the moment and not be caught up on wanting to rush to the sex.

Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m still thinking with my cock, but my cock is just more patient now.

Kinda.

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