Nights in Bondage


PLEASE NOTE THIS POST CONTAINS ADULT MATERIAL AND SHOULD NOT BE READ BY ANYONE UNDER THE AGE OF 18

THE CRYPT

The ties that bind

so expertly knotted

around my legs, my arms, my soul

so secure against my skin

against my being

yet all illusion

they are so easily slipped loose

and let drop to the floor

you look so beautiful like that

unable to move

or make any demands

dress me in black lace

fishnets and jute

and hold me down

till perception comes

pouring out of me

like erotic phantasm

I guess like the majority of people, I have always regarded bondage as rather odd. One of those deep, dark skeletons that only come out when Uncle Ted dies and his leather gear and whips are discovered. The first time I actually heard of someone I know engaging in this palaver, it was a giggling secret to be gossiped about over coffee.

Yet over the last couple of years, I have met more and more people-seemingly quite normal, pleasant people-who happily engage in this activity on a regular basis. And it certainly aroused me intellectually. If not in any other way.

So imagine my surprise, dear reader, when one of the men I was dating admitted to a more than scouting interest in rope.

The topic wasn’t raised with me as something I might like to try, but more as a general point of discussion. Although I do recall we were in bed at the time.

But be that as it may, my anthropological fascination kicked in, and I began asking him the questions I had wanted to ask for so long. Why? What’s the attraction? How? When?

In the way these things often go, our discussion gradually led to demonstration which, not being one to sit on the side-lines, led to my tentative participation. I quite liked it.

Now let me make one thing clear-I don’t like pain. 14 hours of labour, two Caesarians, a gall-bladder opp and a life-long propensity for cracking headaches, has not hard-wired pain to my pleasure centre. Praise the Lord and pass the paracetamol say I.

But what Mark* and I did was act out one of my darkest fantasies. Not a real fantasy. Not one I actually want to happen. Just one of the kinky tapes that sometimes run through my head. It didn’t involve pain, but it did involve some confronting stuff and some rougher than usual handling.

And it was extraordinarily powerful.

 The next day I was expecting to feel sheepish and embarrassed  What I found instead was that a certain amount of old, toxic shame, had lifted from my soul. In pulling out one of my most shameful, dark fantasies, sharing it with another human being, and acting it out, I had shone some light into the darkest recesses of my being.

A couple of weeks later he suggested that I might like to accompany him to a BDSM party:a privately run affair that was kept quite intimate. I can’t say the idea immediately thrilled me, but I was driven by a hard-to-define fascination. Because bondage is not for the faint-hearted, as street-savvy as I am, I was prepared to be shocked and even inwardly freak out. And I think that is why I went: I wanted to test my own boundaries.

That night, I stood before the mirror. Corset, suspenders, black fish-nets, Gothic make-up and a rock-chick

Photo by Willowfinn

(This photo is courtesy of Photobucket and is not of me or anyone I know) 

choker. There was no denying it. I felt sexy, and submissive, and powerful. Mark was simply dressed, all in black. We made quite a handsome couple, and I felt a sense of pride turning up at the party on his arm (I wasn’t yet on a leash!). I was a middle-aged, bondage, Prom queen.

 

It took me a while to pluck up the courage to go into one of the rooms and observe. Entering the room, I was struck by a sense of peace, and of it being a kind of sacred space. What was happening in here was unusual and certainly confronting, but it was grounded in a feeling of spirit and emotion. I watched two beautiful women, one in late middle-age, one much younger, their wrists chained to hooks, being bound together with plastic wrap, stroked and gently lashed. It was choreographed,spontaneous, forceful,gentle,brutal and poetic.

Something in me stirred, and gradually I began to “play” with my companion, allowing him to blind-fold me and tie me to a bench. Nothing much more than that, yet I found this powerful enough. Being tied up was a not unpleasant experience. I liked the feel of rope tied tightly around and over me, like a jute comfort-blanket.

And more than that: I like submitting; handing over control. Somehow any residual shame I had about sex was, in that moment, dissolved  The fact that I had consented to this scenario, that I was in corset and lacy underwear, tied to a bench, in a dungeon, surrounded by people flogging each other, was not shameful, because I was now not in a position where I could do anything about it!

 After that night I went to one or two other bondage gigs, mainly as an observer. I had had my little play and was now more interested in watching. And what I observed, over and over, was the amazing connection between two people. Most of the couples I watched “dance” WERE couples. Playing out these fantasies with each other, you can see their eyes meet, and feel  the incredible sensitivity with which they read each other and respond to each other.

It is a common complaint for many couples that they do not make time to play. Couples on the BDSM scene, because their fetish is important to them, actually have to carve out uninterrupted time to be with each other and, most importantly, to play. They dress up, they adopt roles, they act out fantasies. They make play-time in a way which I find most non-fetish couples struggle to do.

So should all couples take up a fetish? This is not such a silly idea. After-all, a fetish isn’t always something that most of us would call “kinky”. Just check on any fetish site and you can find people whose choice is such games as “50s household”.

So next time I am in a committed relationship, I am going to carve out time on a Friday night to pop on a gingham apron, make pot-roast and then bend over for a spanking!

And I still like dressing in corsets.

* All names and identifying details have been changed.

 

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7 thoughts on “Nights in Bondage

  1. nicely done, you have done a wonderful job of summarising the attraction of the scene.
    We do hope you accompany us on our next public play outing, it would be our pleasure to have such a lovely observer. MC xx

  2. very well written. Like all of us in middle age, we wonder why we aren’t “well adjusted” with our sexuality. Shame and it’s release however we find a way to do it, is indeed the job of middle age! Thanks for the honesty instead of the “cougar” “yummy mummy” crap that people expect many of us to be engaging in. Well done.

  3. A lovely and well written analysis. There is an intimacy to rope – physical, emotional and symbolic – that is very powerful. Thank you for being brave enough to explore that mysterious place.

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