Let's play a game. Let's see what crazy format this Blog that dislikes me so strongly chooses today. Great big gaps between my paragraph's, or just one large rambling paragraph for your reading pleasure. Who knows? Maybe it will come up with something new and different! Ha! And still, no photo's! It just freezes! Ah well, I'll have to just try and paint a picture for you.
I'd never been bound by a professional rigger before I went to Fetish Con in Tampa. Now, when I saw professional, that's not to say I haven't been bound well, on set. However, the rigger's at Fetish Con are true masters of the art and take great pride in their work. Ever since Shakeshift told me he'd arrange to have me bound in the dungeon at the Con, well, I have to say, I was so excited and completely looking forward to it!
It was the first official night of the convention. I was in my full Wonder Woman attire (of course!) and we were circulating at the Meet and Greet for models, actresses and producer's. I was chatting a beautiful blonde woman, Whitney Morgan, with a man all in latex at her feet, kissing her boots when Shakeshift touched my shoulder and said there was someone he wanted me to meet.
Yes. You guessed it. The Rigger, Arthur "Reno-Binder" stood before me with a gorgeous spritely little female in a slave costume, bound and being lead around by a leash, in full upper body bondage. I promptly took the leash of course, and she and I had some fun posing for photographs. But what I was really thinking was...is it my turn yet?
Now, I had no idea who I would react to being fully restrained in bondage I was not meant to be able to get out of. I'm a pretty fiercely independent woman. I take care of myself and allowing someone to restrain you just seems like it SHOULD go against who I am. Right?
However, what I find absolutely delicious about all of this, is that in those moments, bound or in a position of submission, that I feel completely free. Free of responsibilities and the burden's of every day life. All the things you have to worry over and fret about just disappear, because your Fate is not your own in those moments. It's a total loss of control over the thing you inherently protect beyond all other things. Your body.
So for someone like me, who by circumstance has to take care of and control everything in her life to feel that way even for an hour or two, is a sweet, sweet release.
Or so I learned.
So, before long it was off to the dungeon! We wound are way through all the scantily dressed models and the dapper looking producer's and made our way to the dungeon. I was excited, not nervous. I am an intensely curious person and I love new experiences. I've always been open about my interests in Fetish, but found that most partners were too self conscious to really open up about what they want in their deeper, and frankly darker fantasies, so much of my life-long curiosity had gone un-explored.
The dungeon was all you'd expect it to be. The lighting was dim and there were Fetish Clips playing on a projector in the corner. There were various...shall we call them "Stations of Fetish" around the room and loud music playing. It was hot. Or maybe that was just me. The sounds that rose above the music were gasps of pleasure, or the sound of leather striking flesh. There's too much to fully wrap your mind around it, and it quickly eases you into this sense of otherworldliness.
We went to a unoccupied corner, near a set up of steel pipe that ran into the ceiling. I'd get to know that pipe rather well, on future visits to the dungeon. I watched as Arthur drew out this bright yellow rope. Thoughtful man, choosing my rope to match my costume. He turned me around and pressed up again my back and whispered to me. "Are you ready?"
Was I? Oh, Hell yes.
Without another word, other than some brief instruction as to what to do if I found myself too uncomfortable or in a state of panic, my first bondage session began. I stood absolutely still, waiting and wondering what would happen next.
I could feel Arthur's body pressed up against my own. He was warm and his head was near my shoulder, so I could feel his breath on my ear. Before I knew what was happening, he took that soft silky rope and stroked it over the skin of my chest, just below my clavicles, in a long slow delirious pull. I shuddered. He chuckled. I felt my eyes close and I actually swayed back toward him. Now I fully understand the concept of the word swoon. I though Jon Snow had explained it well enough in Game of Thrones, but no. This was swooning. I swooned.
The rest was this blur of sensation. I felt dizzy and yet I was fully alert. Each brush of the rope over my skin, so delicate and gentle, before it tightened and took away any hope of conscious movement just drew me down deeper into the moment. People came to watch. Single men, couples, single women. I liked it. I wanted them to watch, even if I couldn't focus on them completely. I couldn't focus solely on anything but what I was feeling.
Now, don't get me wrong. There is an inherent conflict here. A part of me wanted to get all indignant and ask him just what he thought he was doing to me! But, the bigger part of me was already lost to the experience. And I liked it. No, that's a lie. I loved it.
My eyes came open with a start, as I felt the crotch rope slide between my legs. But there was no shame or embarrassment. Just a little surprise and then even more sensations of helpless pleasure. I could have handled that, I'm sure. I could have stayed semi-collected, if he hadn't then slid a small, plastic vibrating device into the same rope and rested it on my stomach, which in turn, vibrated the rope itself, all the way down. Then of course, he turned it on. It has a remote control. Isn't that handy?
I won't even tell you about the night he passed that around to the on-lookers. I'm sure you can imagine.
There is something amazingly beautiful about being surrounded by a group of open-minded people, expressing who they are without fear of judgment. It's as seductive as anything I've ever known, that freedom. It's funny, but whenever I type the word freedom, all I can picture if Mel Gibson as William Wallace in his blue face paint shouting the word. "FREEDOM!" But, I digress. I do that.
To say that my first bondage session was a success, would not do it justice. I was addicted. I wanted those feelings again and again. I was lucky though, since, it was only the first day of the convention and there was more opportunity for future play time in the dungeon.
Shakeshift, by arranging this, and Arthur for providing it, gave me this amazing gift that night, though they may not have realized it. It's more than physical sexual pleasure, although that is a huge factor, but it's the psychological pleasure, the aspect of roleplay, that delighted me all the way down to my nylon covered toes. I wasn't steady enough to keep my high-heeled Wonder Woman boots on, so we had to take them off. Pity. I know. I was already bound at the time.
Picture that for a while. Roll around in it. I still do...
