Getting the first play date started in the morning has always made more sense to me than waiting for the evening, a late dinner, hurried negotiations followed by performance anxiety and less than satisfying but entirely too predictable man-on-top-get-it-over-with-quick-sex. That may work for the Turbo-Sex Junkies I’ve met that seem to just Find ‘em, Flog ‘em, F*** ‘em and Forget ‘em, but old jaded Doms, like me, want and expect more.
This was not our first meet and greet, so the obligatory discovery that we were both human, flawed and could spend quality time with each other outside of the bedroom was in our past. Posturing and pretense are occasionally necessary, but they do not, in my opinion, inspire trust, which is so vitally important with someone new to you. A brief, and I do mean brief acquaintance on the vanilla side of dating is a price I will pay for a woman that knows what she desires and needs, and has truly piqued my interest by how she expresses her reciprocities within our shared kink.
I met her at the restaurant and we enjoyed a pleasant breakfast, at which I encouraged her to indulge in the decadent rather than the usual. We chatted lightly about informative but inconsequential happenings in our lives and relaxed over exotic waffles and flavored coffee drinks, rather than the heavier evening fares of meat, starches and liquor. Making it a point to observe, identify and compliment her on successfully displaying a feminine allure that was especially arousing to me, without looking like the Whore of Babylon at ten o’clock in the morning, let her realize my appreciations of her efforts. With each compliment she smiled, blushed and/or began to squirm, telling me she was looking forward to our daylong date. I made sure we brought back huge cinnamon rolls for later.
She followed me back to my place and I reminded her to make her safe-call before we went in. I had talked to her friend before and she had pertinent information on me, and our arrangements. Risk Aware Consensual Kink, or RACK, is a wonderfully rational way to play intensely but it does not preclude a scam artist or psychopath from ruining life for those that are too trusting of smooth operators with a good command of the right buzzwords. Believe me, I had her information too and I made my safe-call from my car on the way to my place.
Once inside, I let her take a quick look around before I blindfold her with a soft, wide, pre-folded scarf. Holding her arms at her side I whisper directly into her ear how enthused I am about this opportunity. After kissing her on the side of her neck I tell her that it’s time for an exercise in trust. When she nods her head I explain to her that I want her to walk around in my apartment and to follow my directions. She nods again, and I spin her around a few times to disorient her and then hold her while the fluid in her inner ear stops rotating. Using pitch, timbre, and cadence to specify the difference between conversational suggestions and voice commands, I make her travel through each room, making sure that she understands how I am keeping her from bumping into things. I tell her to reach out after each command to “stop” so she can feel the edge of some piece of furniture or wall. She quickly learns that if she doesn’t stop quickly enough after my command that some part of her body takes the jolt of collision. During this first exercise, I have her walk or crawl on all fours, so she learns varying perspectives of this little game. I do not allow her to walk with her hands out in front of her and I purposefully do not tie them. Simple obedience is the lesson to be learned.
Many of the women I’ve dated tell me they are used to being stripped by their dominant. Knowing this, I make a game out of commanding my female partners to strip for me as I specify which action I want them to perform for me. Convenience and habit dictate ways to remove clothes efficiently, but telling a woman to disrobe, in a seemingly chaotic order, subtly re-enforces the roles each of us assume. To heighten the sensations of this ritual, I command her to touch or caress herself, briefly, as she unfastens and removes her clothing. I also, again by voice command, have her move around the room so that she can place her clothing on pieces of furniture, or in various closets. With her standing in front of me, wearing nothing but her blindfold and her high heels, I move on to the next order of pleasure.
Using a bundle of the soft, braided nylon rope I use to tie women, I rub this rope over parts of her body so that she feels one of the ways rope can sensitize her skin. Letting friction play its part, I pull single or double strands of my rope across the curves of her body, alternating between a slow caress and a faster friction-burning slide. I even take coils of this rope and very lightly flog her occasionally, again letting her feel the diversity of simple rope. As I do this I whisper that if I wanted to, I could make this rope sting her with the same intensity of a single-tail whip. Women always respond to that implied threat. Watching her involuntary bodily responses always tells me how ready she is to continue.
Knowing that the primary difference between women and men is that men are goal oriented, and women are process oriented, I am perpetually grateful that I was born with a love for making women beautiful, and helpless in bondage. The art of rope bondage is, in my opinion, the height of process, within the broad spectrum of BDSM related activities.
I start with pulling her arms behind her back, but I position her so the backs of her hands are touching. I loop several strands around her wrists, making wide bands of the ¼” rope to lessen the occlusion of circulation. I knot this wrap without a cinching band. Switching to a piece of 1/8” rope, I repeat this bondage across the palms of her hands, and then run the ends up and over her wrist bonds and knot them there to keep her from sliding the palm wrap off. Using more of the thin rope, I tie each separate pair of fingers together, starting with her thumbs and little fingers, before tying the three inner sets together. As I tie each pair of fingers together, I bring the long ends up to the wrist bands and tie them off so not one tie has the chance to slip or loosen. This allows me to keep the wraps loose enough for her to maintain good circulation without giving her the chance to wriggle out of these restraints.
To emphasize just how helpless this type of tie makes her, I begin to lightly tickle her, using the tips of my fingers and my fingernails to scrape and scratch her flesh in an effort to sensitize as much of her skin as I can reach. Naturally, she will attempt to avoid me when I torment some particularly sensitive spot, but having her hands tied behind her back in this way pulls her efforts up short and re-enforces her feelings of helplessness. Using a combination of voice commands to keep her in one place and my teasing touch to super sensitize her skin begins to open her mind to the levels of submission I will require from her.
Bondage is a process, never a goal, so I position her, again using voice commands, in different areas as I add each new restricting rope. In front of the window, so the warm sun gently heats her exposed torso, I tie several loops of rope around her arms and waist, cinching these ropes between her arms and lower back to restrict her lateral arm movements even more than before. Repositioning her in front of a small room fan I tie loops of rope over and under her breasts and around her arms, letting the difference in temperature harden her nipples even more than they were. Kneeling by the small table fountain I keep for white noise, I cinch the wraps across her chest with a harnessing style that locks all of the previous ties together and tightens everything up nicely. With her back and arms pressing against the cool tiles of my bathroom, I tie a snug crotch rope on her. This rope is twisted and oiled as it goes over her clitoris so it excites more than bisects. Tying off another piece to this invasive nylon twist, I use it to lead her around. A low-leash is always more fun than one depending from a collar around her neck. A woman rarely expects this type of lead and the squeals and giggles it produces always amuse me.
By now it’s time for a break, so I sit in my EZ chair, pull her onto my lap, cross her legs and then the teasing torments and terrible tickles begin in earnest. Catching my second wind, as I slowly and subtly explore her body, her reactions, and her arousal, is important before I move on to other amusements. It also gives me a chance to quiet my own raging beast that I’ve had to control while playing with this desirable woman.
Kissing a partially bound woman is one of the most delightful aspects of this fetish. Is it me, or are naked, blindfolded and bound women always that much more eager to please when you kiss them? Their lips always seem so much hotter when their bodies are tightly tied. One day some one will have to test out this theory. Can you imagine? Hundreds of naked women, bound and blindfolded and waiting for you to taste the temperature of their lips! I know it’s been one of my fantasies.
Picking her up and carrying her into my kitchen and seating her on the table, I collect some dual-purpose toys from the drawers. Metal Ka-Bob skewers offer their tips so that I may draw on the canvas of her skin. Brass grill brushes make her squirm and moan. Ice makes her squeal and shiver. Metal spatulas make her yip and oooh. Bag clamps make her focus on pain levels that she can enjoy. Lips that burn when I kiss her tells me she is having as much fun being tormented as I am doing the tormenting.
Standing her up, I have her face the table and spread her legs. Two more pieces of rope hold them separated. I untie the crotch rope, and she begins to whimper and roll her ass to entice me. As I strip my clothes off, I tell her what I’m taking off and how. She squirms, moans and begs as I describe putting on the condom. With a firm grip on the front of her hipbone protrusions I tease her hot, self-lubricated and swollen mound with my tip. Backing into me, she starts the pounding I’ve been wanting to do since I woke up. She is quite vocal as I make this first effort an adventure in fun, rather than nothing more than an opportunity for release. Meek pleading turns to guttural, animalistic sounds of pleasure as I scrape my fingernails up the backs of her thighs and in scroll-like circles across her belly. Her fingernails attack my belly but her efforts are much less articulate. Enjoying how I feel inside of her, she compounds my pleasure as she begins to milk me, using her skilled efforts at internal muscle control, and I begin to lose control. Entirely too quickly, I lose my load as she shudders and writhes under me. Believing she had a good time, without asking for the sake of ego gratification, I stay inserted as long as possible and continue to pet her as I whither out.
Untying her legs from the table I command her to kneel by the chair at the head of the table. Her body glistens and her breath is scented from her excitement. Giving the cinnamon buns a 20 second warm-up in the microwave, I keep her kneeling and bound while I feed her. This gives her another body shaking set of tremors, flushing her skin, and causing her to quickly pant and moan, but in my most serious voice I tell her that it’s nothing but a sugar rush. We laugh and she opens her mouth for another bite. Afterwards, with my hand in her hair so that I can control her every movement, I kiss and lick the extra icing from around her mouth and she begins to quiver again. Stroking her body brings on more shudders, and soon she is sitting on my lap, facing me, kissing me all over as I stiffen against her again. I make her stand while I fumble another condom into place and as she glides onto me I pinch her nipples, hard. Her screams are from pleasure over-load and she begs me for the total helplessness and pain I promised during negotiations. These things will come soon enough, but at the moment I have other, much more immediate things on my mind.
She will learn and enjoy more of, my way, in the next chapter.
06.09.09