An important facet of the bondage experience which I think will interest your readers is the matter of uncertainty, mild risk or even low-key fear. Let me explain in more detail.
As a bondage-prone heterosexual man I am constantly in search of women who have a feeling for bondage, or who are at least open to experimentation with bondage. These women have ranged from those who consider it kinky and a ‘fun turn-on’, to those barely tolerant souls who never really put their hearts into it. It is a rare thing to find a thoroughly willing and bondage-loving female with a true feeling for the game (or ‘art’, if you will).
Over the years I have been tied up by rank amateurs and experts alike, and I have done my share of binding and auto-bondage. On too many occasions I have struggled and easily escaped the lacklustre wrappings of uninspired girlfriends; and I have wriggled and squirmed and with much effort freed myself from more competent and conscientious bindings. And on quite a few memorable occasions I have struggled, strained, squirmed and then given up in utter helplessness after being secured by some adept and dedicated young lady.
All of the above experiences were pleasurable to various degrees, but they were all scenarios set-up and acted out in a pre-ordained pattern. The bondage sequence was predictable, with no variation, no mystery, and no imagination on the part of the dominatrix.
So I hark back to those truly exciting bondage sessions I have endured, and I find that they all incorporated the element of’ surprise along with a modicum of fear and a dash of uncertainty. As an example: Cherie, Alicia and I were thoroughly stoned, relaxed and in a good sexy mood one afternoon. Cherie, who had indulged in bondage with me many times, tells Alicia about it. I add a few details. Alicia seems interested and asks a few pertinent questions which we answer for her.
Cherie suggests they bind me just to give Alicia an idea of what it’s all about. In my totally laid-back state I quickly agree. How exciting! There is much giggling and joking as I strip to my briefs, and Cherie digs out the nylon rope and black scarves. The mood is One of devil-may-care, fun and games, and I’m expecting beautifully wild things to happen as a result of all this.
Cherie ties my elbows together behind my back, and then my wrists arc crossed, bound and drawn upwards to a rope which she runs from behind my neck over my shoulders under my arm pits and around my upper body about ten times. She is good at this and expert with her knots. I can rarely escape her expert binding. But this time she cinches every turn very securely and explains it all to Alicia. It seems she is overdoing it a bit, but I keep my mouth shut and enjoy what’s happening. “Now sit on the bed,” Cherie tells me. “Alicia, you tie his legs.” She complies with a few suggestions from Cherie and myself. With ankles and knees secured I sit there on the edge of the bed unable to hide my mounting excitement. Alicia notices my blatant reaction and comments to Cherie who laughs knowingly. “This always gets him excited. I don’t know why.” But she does know.
“Now what?” Alicia asks. “Roll him on his stomach. We forgot something.” Cherie replies, as she takes a few turns of rope between my bound wrists and runs it to my ankle ropes and drawn it up tight, so that I am effectively hog-tied. My back is arched with my hands almost touching my feet. I’m surprised, because Cherie has never before made me as helpless as this. I protest these extremes which are not in the game plan.
“We had better shut him up, don’t you think?” Cherie asks, and Alicia giggles. “I guess so. Show me how you do it.” And before I can protest more Cherie stuffs my mouth and wraps two turns of scarf around my head gagging me into stunned silence. I struggle and shake my head violently. But no good! Now the doubt begins to build. What is Cherie up to? What arc they up to? Cherie sees the glint of anxiety and rear in my eyes and smiles to herself then turns to Alicia. “See how easy it is’? A big strong guy like that completely helpless. He’s our prisoner. It’s exciting, isn’t it? We could do anything with him now.”
Alicia looks down at the bed where I lie on my side unable to speak or move an inch. An evil smile comes across her face. “We could whip him couldn’t we?” she asks in a thoughtful tone of voice. “We could rape him or torture him, like they do in the spy novels.” Cherie laughs at this and playfully slaps my bottom. “I sure could. Maybe that’s what he wants.” They both stand there contemplating the trussed up package of manhood lying before them.
Now the fear is real within me. I know Cherie wouldn’t do such things, but with Alicia’s influence, who knows? I’m sure that I’m safe, but then again I’m not sure at all. They both know they have me worried as they smile down at my helpless frustration.
“Let’s go to the movies.” Cherie says turning to her partner in crime. “Sure,” Alicia replies, “but is it alright to leave him like this?” “He’s not going anywhere,” Cherie chuckles, “But to be safe, we’ll ungag him and blindfold him instead.” And they do just that. “He’ll be sore and tired when we return, but not too tired for me to show you a few tricks a woman can do with a bound man.” They leave me there in the dark, bewildered, helpless, frustrated and thoroughly excited. I hear their high heels clicking on the floor, the door slams shut, and there I lie for the next two and a half hours!
When they returned it was exciting, but the most exciting element in it all was Cherie’s sudden change in attitude from her role-playing to reality in the blink of an eye. She did this on purpose, she admitted later, but I have had others suddenly change from the tame pleasure-binder to the deadly serious dominatrix … the sadistic woman intent on maintaining my helplessness beyond my will or endurance. It was usually uncomfortable, somewhat painful, but in the long run it was always exciting.