Cuffs, Clamps & Ice
February 7th, 2011
Toy and I went shopping, new shiny things for the club. We want to surprise him, make him smile and so we shop with him in mind. Nervous and giggling, we buy new tops. I get a waterproof vibrator, too. A story for another time.
At the club, dressed and lubed, I wear my latex skirt for the first time in months, and my new top, barely holding my breast, with big bell sleeves. He approves. Toy arrives, she looks really great. The corset she picked out fits her well and the skirt we found last week matches nicely. I bring her out and unwrap her for him and his smile widens even further.
He is happy, his girls have dressed to please, and we are successful. She snuggles with him, and I wander about for a bit, but the other rooms are colder.
He motions me over, pulls out the shackles, my heart soars. I have missed those so very much. I step up to him and he locks the around my ankles. I want to thank him, but I haven’t the voice. He pulls out the cuffs – the heavy Irish eights, and puts them on Toy’s wrists. Both of us now bound to him.
Be careful, don’t wrench your wrists.
Latex skirt, feel the shiny. Pats his leg, it should be dry by now. The shirt is problematic, nipples keep popping out. He has a solution.
Go get me a set of nipple clamps.
I rise and go fetch, cloverleaf clamps, my favorite and return to his lap. It’s been a while, he pinches and pulls, slipping them into place. Whimpering, gasping. The pain flowing, warming and arousing. My arm around him, hand resting on the back of his head, I grab his ponytail and force myself to let go.
He starts rubbing on nipple, asking Toy to do the same. She squirms and struggles, but gets her cuffed hands up. My hand slips down to his cheek as I moan and gasp.
He has an idea, picks up the chain and puts it in her mouth. Then, grabbing us each by the hair he pulls us apart. Moaning and gasping and squealing, sensations and energy flowing freely. The angle of my neck is straining. I have momentary flashes of worry for my throat, but I swallow carefully. He releases before it becomes too much. She drops the chain, and I shriek with the pain, but that’s the least of my worry. He scolds her for letting go and hurting me. I open my eyes and look down at here.
Did he tell you that you could let go?
She drops her head. My presence is requested elsewhere, a violet wand lesson is needed. Out I go, shackled and clamped. I reflexively cradle the chain while I teach, distracted from the pain.
Returning, someone else notices my hand on the chain and I am ordered to fetch the dogbones. I grab the big set, clips and safety latches and all. Not wanting to bring to few and disappoint him.
He is gleeful with the amount I bring and I am whimpering with fear. Attaching them to the chain, he asks Toy to hold them for me, keep them up so they don’t hurt me. I catch her eyes, begging her to be kind.
He asks for a pen. I coach her to her feet, it doesn’t hurt as much as we both fear. Shuffling back, her forward, through the feet and down the rooms to the pens. I bring one back, and my water. Sorry, no, he wants a Sharpie. Back we go.
Arms behind your back.
I balance the water cup, easy as it’s mostly ice. Sharpies found, brought back out. He taunts her with one, but nothing gets written.
He tickles and she squirms and I yelp, and she whimpers. Wanting to drop her arms, afraid of hurting me. More tickling, squealing and yelping and leaning and squirming. She drops to her knees. He gets my ice cup and starts putting it down her panties.
If you weren’t wearing any, it would stay.
Toy glares up at me and everyone laughs. I ask for a drink, he lefts the cup but scolds me for moving my hand to meet it. He feeds me the remaining water and then takes it back.
Can you crawl?
We shuffle to the other room, to the toys. He pulls out a flogger, slamming it into my back. He wants better light and spins us around. More flogging, it’s been awhile, the hits fall heavy, stingy. I bend and squeal.
He takes my hands and puts them on top of my head. Good posture now.
He circles, grabs blindfolds for us. I’m coaching her too much, a gag goes in. A forcep attaches her chest to the mess of chains between us. Time to wrap the present. My lower body to her upper, leave the calves free for balance.
A cup of ice is brought, my cup of ice. It is poured down the center, squealing and cold. It flows right past my clothes and catches in hers.
Water mostly drained, a vibrator follows. Buzzing up the chain to tickle my nipples, delicous.
He and the birthday boy circle. Crop and floggers and forceps. Stinging and squealing and shrieking. Pinching and poking. I choke on the gag and he relents, letting me catch my breath. Back at it again. I am drooling around the gag, he teases that I’m drooling all over our her. Toy does not complain. More stinging and screaming and writhing, and I fall into her lap. They catch us and pull me back to my feet.
Ready for round two?
A moment and I nod. She says yes, but the fall hurt her wrists. The cuffs come off her, and go on me, behind my back.
I want you to say something for me, do you know what it is? He asks our Toy.
Yes, count to three.
That’s right. Three times, count to five between them. And on the third, pull down on the clamps.
His hand in my hair, he gets a tight grip, I soar and she counts.
One, two, three.
Arching as pleasure flows through me, the vibrator pressed just right between us for the added sensation.
One, two, three.
Again, pressing against his hand and the vibrator, soaring higher. Something makes me laugh.
One, two, three – pull.
Arching harder, head back, mouth open. The gag falls deeper and it feels right somehow. I shake and the pain flows in pleasure.
Back down and I drop my head to his shoulder, catching my breath.
Are you about done?
The orgasms have been a release for the pain, I can keep going, but it is a good place to come down from. I am gagged and cannot reply. Toy says yes.
The wrap is cut away, the dogbones removed.
She’s going to fall backwards.
Birthday boy grabs my arms and the nipple clamps come off. I do collapse back with a cry, and he holds me. I try to get up but then relax back against his chest. A chair comes, the cuffs are removed and I sit. Breathing for a few moments and then the blindfold, blinking in the light.
There are people watching, more of the family has arrived, I smile at them, not even trying to identify the tourists.
He coaxes Toy to turn away from them and takes her blindfold off. Gives her my hand. Her wrap returns, and a blanket comes for me. We relax for a few minutes with him between us.
The I take her to the couch, wrapped up in blankets we snuggle in together, dropping and cold we cling together for warmth and comfort. Snuggling and happy. The scene was amazing.
Slowly we surface, bit by bit. People come and go. Her clothes are wet. Latex is good for you. We snuggle closer to the heater, blankets wrapped more tightly. People checking in on us. Water and warmth is all we need.
Becoming verbal we greet people, and share tidbits of the scene with each other. Watch him flog a squirmy boy.
We are back above the water now, fully surfaced and awake. He returns with the cuffs, and latches our wrists together. More snuggling and then he returns and slips in between, our shackled wrists coming out of the blankets to lay in his lap.
He asks us some questions, but then reality invades. I am needed for the violet wands again. He uncuffs me and back to work I go, shackles still in place.
We finish the scenes and the night. A big hug and thank you. Ready to pack up. He unlocks my ankles. A wonderful night of love, joy, pleasure and pain. Now complete.
Why Rope?
December 23rd, 2010
We are putting together a series of rope classes. I am very excited to be ordering another set of hemp ropes very soon. Just trying to find the right vendor. For the first class, the question all the presenters are answering is: Why even use rope? And here is my answer:
I’ve been a rope slut for two years now, thanks to him. Before him, I liked bondage, but I didn’t really care how it was done. Sure, leather smelled good, and rope seemed quite useful, but cheap canvas cuffs could get the work done, and a straitjacket was quick and secure. I still like all those things, but Rope became the bigger fetish – the preferred method. Why?
Rope, for me, is about the senses. The sense of touch, the feel of the rope on my skin, the bite of hemp or the softness of cotton. The feel of his hands putting it on me, the tug as he tightens, the burn as he pulls, the wraps biting into the skin, the vibrations traveling through every inch. The sense of smell when it comes to natural fibers. The deep, sweat earthly smell of hemp and jute. The sense of hearing – rope being tossed out on the ground, the creak of the suspension rig. The sense of sight. The look of smooth straight lines, cleanly outlining the body. Knots lined up, wraps decorating body and rigging.
I also like it for the methodicalness. A lot of people watch ties being done and state that they don’t have the patience for that kind of thing. That is what I like about rope. It takes time, it can be the entire scene. Cuffs or a jacket are put on before the scene and taken off after. Rope is laid carefully and precisely. It takes time, and during that time, you are becoming increasingly bound. You are becoming increasingly helpless. It is a buildup, bit by bit. It is the slowing giving and taking of control. It is a methodical exchange of power.
I also like it’s versatility. Cuffs and jackets are designed for one thing. Chains are hard, heavy, and not as pliable. Rope can be used in so many different ways. Tied to so many different things, in so many different formations. Different lengths, different thicknesses, different fibers. It can be used to blind, to gag, to choke, to beat, to whip, to burn, to suspend, to bind or to set free. And that was just off the top of my head.
Scattered Thoughts
June 3rd, 2010
Public Humiliation – I knelt on his boot, surrounded. They talked of friendship and history and alcohol. Or they were, before I landed on his boot. I could not really hear them, after. He ground it into me, a stern look keeping me in place. I rode the old black leather, trying to keep my tight denim skirt covering me. His hand on his knee, one finger, two fingers. I glanced up at him in a panic, he grinned. “You better.” Three fingers and I did. Eyes closed, people casually chatting around me, I did. Over and over again, slave to his counting fingers. Mortified, terrified, aroused and his.
Begging – Please. Please, no. It’s never enough. Offer something else. But how do you offer something else when he’s clearly enjoying himself? How do you offer something else when your brain is locked in fear? How do you offer something else when you don’t want him to stop, but you’re too scared to be silent? Begging will make him happy. It is what he is asking you to do. If you don’t want to offer something else, ask for what you are afraid of.
Creativity – Something new. Always something new. Take what you have done and push it one step further. Take a great scene and add to it. Take your fear one extra step. What have you not yet done? What are you afraid of?
Fear – Hand to my throat. Tensing, gasping, internal struggle to be still. I love it when he holds me down by my throat. Stun gun. Whimpering more when he threatens than when it hits. Twitching more at the noise than the shock. Crying, begging. Fear of the pain stronger than the pain itself. Nylon hood. I like the hood. Duct taped around my throat, not too tight. I was fine, the whole scene went well. We were done. PANIC! Instant full body panic as he lay on top of me. Shaking, gasping, crying, thrashing. 1-2-3. Focus moved to an orgasm and calm returns.
Poly – Love is not divided, instead it grows. Communication does not prevent jealousy, but it can help to resolve it. Poly is not for everyone, it isn’t easy, and there is no one right way. You can’t tell someone how to “do poly” only how it works for you. The Ethical Slut provides some good insight, language and tools for any relationship.
I am still tired from the con this past weekend. Sorry about the randomness of this post. I’ll pull something more coherent together for next week.