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My First Self Bondage

Luggage Straps For Self Bondage

Luggage straps are just about unheard of now, and if you do find them, they will be the nylon webbing kind, not leather. Nylon just doesn’t do it for me.

Luggage Straps

Growing up when I did, we didn’t have much money so quality suitcases were not a priority. How do you hold a poor quality suitcase shut? Use a leather strap and cinch it up tight. After the second world war, this was probably the norm and lasted certainly into my teenage years and later. I remember the suitcases we had were made of a very cheap type of thick cardboard or similar. The locks were cheap rubbish.

In the hall closet we had 4 straps. They were about five feet long and maybe an inch wide. The leather was of average quality and somewhat rough. They were not ‘dressy’ in the least. In hindsight, they were perfect.

For some reason when I was an early teenager, about 14 years old, one afternoon I took those four luggage straps into my bedroom and tied myself up with them.

I wrapped one strap around the ankles, another round the knees, and the third I buckled into a multi-turn loop then put my wrists through the loop. Using my teeth I cinched up the strap and now my wrists were bound in front of me.

In those days I was much more supple than I am now. Leaning forward I could get my bound ankles through my arms and now my wrists were bound behind me. Tightly. No matter what I did, I couldn’t free myself. That is until I was able to get my legs back through my arms and my wrists were in front of me again, and then use my teeth to loosen the strap.

With my hands behind me and laying on my front with my legs bound, my weight was on my front and hips. Squirming around, feeling the bondage, drifting in the escape and feelings of this I had my first climax when the friction on the front of my pants sent me over the edge.

I still remember this now, five decades later.

Self Bondage

Straps or cuffs wrapping the wrists.

Leather wrapping the circumference of the wrists, the ankles, the knees all feels so very good. It triggers the imagination releasing an endorphin rush.

Add a collar, a gag, add more and more straps around the chest and waist finishes it off nicely.

Why Did I do This?

That is the real question. To this day I have no idea why I did it. It just happened. I liked it, I had my first climax and I was addicted.

I do remember surprise as being a major factor of my first self bondage.

I have wondered about this a lot. Why did I choose those luggage straps? Why did I tie myself up with them? I am absolutely sure I had never seen anything even remotely like this in my life previously. I didn’t see it and say, ‘well, I’d like to try that on a rainy afternoon,’ or similar. The only conclusion is – it just is a part of me.

I do know that I liked leather far too much. It had a fascination, an appeal, it was something that did give me the silent quivers deep down inside. Touching those straps felt enormously good. I felt excited when I touched them, carried them, when I had anything to do with them. From my fascination with these straps, my belt fetish was completely logical.

This was clearly the time when my leather fetish was starting to kick in, and it has never let up since, over half a century later. Maybe the leather fetish, the desire to hold, to touch, to caress those straps was at the heart of it. With them on my bed, what else could I do with them? They were meant for tying up suitcases, why not tie up me?

Over the years that followed, a huge worry was being discovered, caught out, exposed when I was in bondage. I was terrified of that. It was so strong that I denied myself this release for long periods of time. Some of the porn on the internet deals with self bondage discovery which I find exciting.

Denial did not work well at all. If anything, that was even worse for me – and that is the basis for much of this website – and the subject for another post.

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The Wrong House

A New Mistress At A New Dungeon

Well, the mistress I was seeing was no longer available. This has happened quite a bit for many reasons and is the subject of another blog post.

On this occasion the mistress I chose was extremely well known and a bit of a legend in the BDSM community. She was a mature lady in her late 50’s or even 60’s by the looks and I was quite looking forward to the session.

The Wrong House

Well, she gave me an address which my GPS took me to easily enough, but it was a very winding and convoluted area. I was taken to a nice house set back a little in a reasonably new housing estate.

I collected my gear then went to the front door and rang the bell. And waited. And waited some more. And rang again and waited. Then I saw it on the wall, a plaque with the address, oops, the address was saying ‘circuit’ as opposed to ‘road’. You would never believe it, in the same estate there was a ‘road’ and a ‘circuit’ address. Different and for me, vastly different. I got out of there quick smart.

A frantic adjustment to the GPS took me to the correct address. This time when I knocked the inside door opened, leaving the security mesh screen making seeing anyone inside difficult. A voice said, ‘Yes, are you my appointment?‘ (or similar, it was 10 years ago now). I mumbled out something, probably used her name then she appeared from behind the door and opened the security door for me.

The reason for the secrecy was that her narrow house had neighbors either side and she was dressed in full on leather fetish. And looked damn good also. I seem to remember one neighbor was washing a boat in the driveway (the things I remember!).

The Sessions?

I remember I had 3 sessions with her. All were heavy corporal and bondage. She was pretty good but we just sort of faded away, drifted apart. I think her spare bedroom kitted out as a dungeon just was not as good as what I’d been used to.

She was good though. A very nice lady and you’d never guess that she’d been a dominatrix for many decades and worked internationally.

Some Anecdotes.

I remember in one session she was really getting into giving me a strapping when a breast fell out of her bra. She didn’t notice it for a while, she just powered on with the strap. She was a well endowed lady and the spectacle of her breast moving as she used the belt was rather special.

In our sessions she really admired the off billet strap of mine. It really is special and I’ve not seen its like anywhere since I stumbled upon it at a horse and tack store. I commented recently to the mistress I’ve had 3 sessions with that it is the prince of straps and it feels similar to the Canadian Prison Strap when used hard. As she does. Anyway, my friendly leather worker lady made me one for her, and even embossed her name on it. She tried it out on me and it worked rather well. I remember that very well.

The last thing I remember was her commenting that she often saw university students before an exam. She’d give them a sound caning then send them on their way with sore striped bottoms and focused minds. It seemed it was a bit of a thing to get a caning from her before an exam. Strange but true.

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Letter To Voldemort

Open Letter To Voldemort

Voldemort,

I write this to excise you from my life, to free myself from your toxic influence, and to move forward in my life with happiness.

Our calling you Voldemort began as a humourous allusion, and thus it remained for a time. But over time it became clear that a name given in jest was actually remarkably accurate. I also called you satans faecal representative here on earth, and also an excrementer. Those attempts ar humour at your expense however denied the effects of your psychopathy by attempting to shift them onto fictional characters. Your actions however were very real and at a similar level to that malevolent character.

You probably don’t know it, and if you did I doubt you would either care or believe me when I say that you have caused me so much pain, triggered unhappiness and brought me to levels of despair I thought I would never experience. I referred to you as a psychopath which the absence of any kind of remorse or apology from you bears out.

Now, as I write this I see how stupid I have been in allowing this to happen. I am in charge of my destiny, not you.

I was stupid to think that over thirty years of friendship meant anything to you. It couldn’t from the way you behaved. Even after I gave you a second chance, a chance that so few would be given. It was based on your word and assurances and the length of our friendship, yet you betrayed me again. And so quickly. Then you said I had behaved appallingly. Your supreme delusion is that you fail to realize just how badly you behaved and the effect on others.

I was stupid to allow your toxic manipulation and influence to affect me for as long as it has. I am and have always been a better person that you will ever be. People who know us both have said that, and that has been something I struggled to accept. But I know it now. Your influence and proximity sucked that knowledge from me, making me see life through the prism of your own damaged and damaging influence.

I acknowledge that one person can cause another pain, but that is a transient thing. Only by actually allowing that pain to linger can it affect a person for as long as it has for me.

I can however be thankful to you for some things.

I see more beauty around me due to your absence. The world around me is a far better place without you. The loving relationships I have are in stark contrast compared to when around you, and for that I shall be eternally thankful.

In the time of greatest trauma when your influence was at its most malevolent, I made discoveries about myself that I probably never would have otherwise. I examined and explored things that I had repressed for decades. Thanks to you, I acknowledged then acted upon the suppressed issues and I know I am a far better person for that.

I had at times equated your actions to those of a dog but I know that is wrong. Dogs are loving, loyal, guilelessly companionable and make the lives of those around them better. You have none of those enviable qualities. Your callous treatment of me and those around me had been such that it shook my confidence in the human race for a time, but now I acknowledge it for what it is. The effect of actions was to bring all around you down your own level.

Yours is not a personality that benefits people, that promotes growth or happiness. Being free of your presence makes that clear.

So Voldemort, if we ever meet again, please don’t acknowledge me. Just go forth happy in your delusion and seek whatever solace there may be in knowing that you are alone in this world in the depth of your toxicity to the human spirit. I do not wish you well, or ill. I wish you nothing at all, for ever more.

This letter to you is my Christmas present to me. I shall have other presents from the many loved ones around me and I shall enjoy them also. I shall go and sit on the deck overlooking a lovely expanse, enjoy a meal with my wife and smile to myself. You are gone.

Signed,

You know who I am.

Probably one among many.

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BDSM and Psychologists

Not All Psychologists are Created Equally

When in a traumatic part of my life I had my first ever time with a psychologist, it was an absolute life changing event. I’d been suffering from life-threatening depression and the whole BDSM thing was reaching a bursting point.

For decades I’d kept this silent quiver of my need for BDSM submerged, in denial. Like a boiling pot, you can only bottle up the steam for so long before something breaks. And so it was for me.

Seeing a psychologist, talk therapy, gave me a revelation about myself and my need for BDSM that was life changing.

It also showed me that my perceptions were not based on reality.

Roped

My First Psychologist

In hindsight, I think I was lucky that the first psychologist I spoke with was knowledgeable and empathetic to my needs.

It took a lot of discussion and then trust to expose that I had this need for BDSM. She was the very first person I’d ever told about this – a secret I’d kept for at that time, over 30 years.

She said to me ‘why don’t you do it?‘ and for a woman to say that to me was life changing. She accepted that I had this need? That was extraordinary.

Then she said, ‘it won’t hurt anyone. It won’t change who you are, I can’t understand why you don’t do it‘ and again that was life changing.

For someone with so much angst, those were wonderful words.

Time Passed

Two other psychologists I visited were not for me. One was a smirker – it felt like he looked down his nose. The other was stupid.

Another was a bit of a prude and while I liked her as a person, I felt happier when I stopped seeing her. I just got the feeling it would be all too much for her.

So, these three I never opened up to.

Two Winners!

The previous to current psychologist was extremely accepting. She saw the whole BDSM thing as just another human activity. I was refreshed, happy, delighted, so pleased by that. Then she retired!

The current person I’m seeing (for other issues) is also very accepting. She is not knowledgeable about BDSM, didn’t know about sub-space and I suspect CBT has only the ‘cognitive behavior therapy’ definition for her. It will be interesting to see her face if I spell out the BDSM version should the topic come up.

Why am I seeing someone who is not knowledgeable about BDSM? Simple. She is intelligent, sensible, highly trained, accepting, and helping me in other ways but also with BDSM. She gives me a good perspective, insights, and is helping.

In Conclusion

Not all psychologists are created equal. They are humans, with human weaknesses and strengths. They have their special areas and asking them to deal with BDSM is a challenge if the connection is not there.

However, I have had great value from them.

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How Do you know BDSM is For You

Is BDSM for You?

This will surely differ from person to person, but here are my experiences and thoughts. You can maybe get some feeling for yourself, if you are wondering if BDSM is for you.

The whole concept of bondage, discipline, sadism and masochism can seem strange to surreal. But for some of us it has a pull like gravity.

bdsm

For Me It Evolved

At about age 14 I tried self bondage, I have no idea why. It just sort of happened. And I liked it. A lot.

Over the years this became a regular thing. Tying myself up with belts became the illicit pleasure I could indulge in and get the release and gratification I wanted. At that time the term BDSM did not exist.

Why belts? It just is. I love them, the sensation, the visual, the whole thing. Rope, chain, anything else just does not do it. Again, this is part of me. Not learned. Not forced on me. It just happened.

When I had my first proper pro-Domme session in a dungeon corporal punishment happened and I loved it. The two sensations, the bondage and the corporal combined to produce an extremely strong response.

So, for me, it started with self bondage and then corporal was added.

I’ve looked at the internet, seen the huge range of other things that BDSM has to offer and for me, but I’ve stuck with the corporal and bondage.

There Are So Many Options

I remember in one session, the mistress had a huge jug of water she was drinking. She finished it then put it outside the dungeon on the corridor floor. A short while later there was a tap on the door. She got a fresh jug of water and was drinking that one. I asked her later about it – she said she had a golden shower session next. I wasn’t tempted.

Another mistress offered me some strap-on play. She even showed me her harness. I liked the leather harness, the whole pegging thing didn’t do it for me.

So, from the above, it is clear I have my own BDSM needs, desires, call them what you want – have been static. They haven’t morphed into other things.

I Was Born With This

The mistress I’m currently seeing was adamant that I was born this way, as are all her clients.

I can feel that within myself, it just is. I can’t explain it. Same as I can’t explain the other hobbies I enjoy – they just are.

What About you?

Do you think about some BDSM activity occasionally?

Is there some fantasy involving BDSM?

Have you looked it up on the internet, maybe looked for some porn featuring your special thing?

If any of those are true, then my guess is you will be doing some BDSM before too long.

Why I Went To a Pro-Domme

A few reasons. I suppose I never thought of going to a play party or joining a forum or group. I had seen some porn with mistresses and bondage and corporal and it looked hugely appealing. Also, well, it was quite a long time ago and the internet was in its infancy. Things like ‘Fetlife’ and all the other sites and forums didn’t exist then.

Next, I wanted to try with someone who was an expert, would not want any kind of emotional attachment, was in a private setting, and I could confide in.

Privacy was and still is a big thing. What happens in the dungeon stays in the dungeon.

Would I do it that way again? Yes I would. Sure there was a cost, but she met all my requirements and it ended well.

Would I recommend people thinking about trying some BDSM try a pro-Domm type session? Yes I would. You get to talk to someone totally non judgemental, professional, experienced and able to give you advice, options, and expose you to some things you might not have thought of.

Maybe the depth of play will guide you. For me the bondage and corporal are pretty full on. I want the undivided attention of the mistress, the private theater to focus on me. Then go home. If you are looking for a life-style type thing, for a life partner, for a dom or master or a 24/7 type arrangement, then clearly the pro-dom sessions are not for you.

Maybe you want a night out and some BDSM to be talked about, maybe watch some public play, maybe meet people into the scene? Again the pro-dom thing is not for you – join a forum, do some events. There are plenty around.

Bucket List To Try BDSM

The mistress I’m seeing said she recently had a client come to just try BDSM as it was on his bucket list. She smiled, nodded, then said he’d be back.

She doubted it was a bucket list thing – he must have had it inside him to try.

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Tea Break Strapping

I Hate It When Dungeons Close

This has happened to me 3 times. The first dungeon I had an affection for – my first BDSM experience went so well that it felt special. Also, they had a wonderful spine, a fishbone harness (an arrangement of straps) I’m rather partial to and not found the equal to since. When I heard they closed I wanted to purchase that harness but missed out. Oh well.

The second dungeon was a narrow two stored terrace house with 3 small dungeons. I wasn’t all that in love with it but the mistress I’d been seeing was very good. Super strong. I remember showing her my collection of belts and straps (in its infancy). She put her head in the bag, breathed in deeply, and said the loved the smell of leather. In the session she said the belt was her favourite even though she and her sister had got it from their father when they played up.

Anyway. I digress. The second place closed, then re opened, then closed again. They just couldn’t make it work.

Some Venues Are Different

The mistress I’d been seeing was very good, we exchanged some SMSs then she arranged another new private venue a friend of hers had. On this occasion it was close to her birthday and mine also. My wife made her a chocolate mud cake she loved.

The dungeon itself was not to my liking much. It was part of a large factory which was deserted on the day, and in an industrial estate. However the session was pretty good. As she was getting into strapping me with a belt, we heard through a high window that was open the sound of people talking. And quite close too. It sounded like their tea break time.

As she strapped me, I remember listeing to them talking wondering if they could hear it, the cracks of the belt on bent bum. They didn’t seem to which made me think that if they did hear it, maybe they thought it was some machine or other cracking away.

I remember I was in my 50’s, so she gave me my birthday in cane strokes. Plus one to grow on. Ahh, happy memories.

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Builders and Belting

Sometimes Words Aren’t Necessary

It was a few years ago now. The mistress was a tall German ex fashion model who took her profession very seriously. She said after our first session she’d had some muscle soreness from giving all the corporal and to combat that she’d taken up exercises in the gym. Well it worked.

During this session, the building was under repairs or renovations. Builders were working on the roof and during the session the clomp-clomp-clomp of their boots could be heard in the dungeon.

Well, if you’ve read my blog you know I have a significant belt fetish, and straps, and tawse too. I have a goodly collection and the Canadian prison strap is a feature. It is hard to say which are my favourites as they are all a little different but a common thing with them is that doubled belts make a nice loud crack when applied with force. When the perfect stroke is given, it sounds exactly like it should, like a gun shot almost.

Well, mistress was using a 2 inch wide doubled over belt on my butt and the cracks really were impressive. Her strength training sure was paying off and her enthusiasm meant she was throwing herself into it fully.

Then it happened. The builders started to use a nail guin. “POP” went the nail gun then “CRACK” went the doubled belt. This started to take on a life all its own. Mistress looked at me, I looked at her, then I smiled, then she smiled. She took that as a challenge. Each time the nail gun let one off, mistress wound up and strapped the belt down as hard as she could. Both echoed through the dungeon and down the corridor outside.

It was one of those moments where it’s not necessary to say anything. Besides I couldn’t as I was gagged.

Well, after a short while of this, the builders stopped. I said to my self, “naughty blighters, they’re listening” and that was what it felt like with just the sound of the belting happening. Mistress gave me a few dozen then selected another implement. in that short time of silence their clomping on the roof resumed. Maybe they were thinking about what was happening?

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A Fight via email

Perils of eMailing a Dominatrix

The longer I go without a session, the more I want one and the less likely an email I send to a mistress, a dominatrix, will be a good one.

I know I get so twitchy for the BDSM experience that when I’m composing the email, I usually say something stupid or somehow manage to offend.

One such case was memorable. And instructive.

How To Lose A Client

While I accept much of the blame for this, I suggest the mistress was fundamentally stupid. She should have realized I was in need and less than sensible with my email.

Also, lets face it, I am the client. I pay. She could have earned money from me over an extended time if her attitude had been better.

Ok, so what went wrong?

The mistress I’d been seeing had left the industry. Hence I needed to see someone else. I looked around, found a likely mistress and sent an email which managed to offend her in some way.

Well, she berated me. Pure and simple. She got right on my case. I now wonder if she thought I was into humiliation?

So I responded, ‘Ok. I won’t bother you again.‘ Clearly by her response she was bothered by me.

Well, she sent a second stinker and said I wasn’t very submissive and she didn’t say she wouldn’t see me. I never responded. I never will.

The Mistakes.

Firstly. My email was crappy. Simple. That was my only and big mistake.

She made  2 mistakes. She didn’t realize I was twitchy for a session. If she had, and had sent a better response I’d probably still be seeing her.

Her second mistake was the way she spoke to me. She was aloof and haughty and did not treat me like a person. In my email I had tried (I thought) to show her respect. Her email to me was totally disrespectful.

I remember thinking at the time that she was totally absorbed by herself. I remember thinking if that were the case, why would I want to see her?

By Contrast

I sent another email a few days later to another mistress. She seemed to understand me far better. We had many lovely sessions together.

I remember, my wife made her a chocolate mud cake for her birthday.

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Im Listening

Feel Free To Give Feedback

After a few decades of keeping this inside, it is all venting out onto the internet almost without a filter.

It is marvelously cathartic. Should you feel the need to make contact, feel free to use  sq at silent quivers dot com.

I'm listening

Where To Now?

I’ve got probably a hundred posts in mind. Topics range from anecdotes, real world experiences, and even some corporate humour from my vanilla existance. I can also call on friends to provide some free stories – Trikki Watson is a treasure trove of material for this.

What is your favourite?

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The Head Space Of Bondage

Bondage Is a Peculiar Thing

Thinking about it, bondage is all about head-space. Why would it be done otherwise? The feeling of restriction, the liking for how it is done and what is done are all about fetish, escape and submission. It is all rolled into one to produce a different level of consciousness.

Bondage is a strong affirmation of trust. To allow someone to put you into bondage, gagged, immobile and vulnerable is all about trust and submission. You trust the person to do this.

Bondage delights at so many levels but it also confounds. Time moves differently, the bondage experience changes perceptions and shifts the soul to new places and spaces.

At times in bondage in the dungeon it is as if a person looks down and says ‘why do you Iike this so much‘ but the undeniable fact is that it touches the soul deeply. And it is necessary. Thus is the contradiction of BDSM and fetish.

Even saying the word starts that tiny little piece of me thinking about my last session, and when can I have the next.

Bondage Is Many Things To Many People

We are all different. Why do we want bondage, why does it work, how does it work? The fact is that none of this matters. It is someting that pulls like gravity.

Bondage can be about submission, escape, fantasy, fetish – and I am sure there are other options for how and why people enjoy bondage.

I know for myself, it is a floating feeling, a feeling of quiet escape from reality that touches me as very few other things do.

Wrist cuffs

Wrist and ankle bondage

Wrapping the wrists and ankles, the feeling of restraints shift the perceptions. All of a sudden another reality begins to form.

Add a collar, a gag, some straps around the body to complete the bondage.

The more the body is restrained, the more inescapable the bondage, the greater the feeling of escape from reality, of release from tension, of peace.

To be in bondage is to be immersed in another world. Sublime.

Rope bondage

The more restriction, the deeper the feelings

ball gag

A simple ball gag enhances

Being gagged completes the bondage experience, affirming the slave truly is bound and under control. Nothing can change the outcome.

In a session, being gagged adds to the feeling of sub-space and submission.

Anything round the neck really pushes the headspace of bondage. A wide belt buckled firmly or a proper bondage collar really does add to the drifty dreamy feeling of bondage and submission.

Necks are a part of us that are surprisingly sensitive.

A simnple collar

Just a simple collar round the neck

Bondage is a peculiar thing. We give up the right to free movement and from that we gain so much. We free ourselves, we escape this reality, we devolve our mental state into another existence.

We give ourselves to someone else, for them to dominate and control. We are at their mercy. It is a two way street, we give them the power, they give us the release of the bondage and whatever else happens while in bondage.

Time in bondage is different. It is. It seems to slow, to change, to be so much more personal and intimate. Laying in bondage, the straps and belts, the collar and gag all tight and stopping movement and sound consume the soul. Moving ever so slight against the straps, feeling them on the skin, maybe hearing them creak slightly is sublime.

The materials matter. Bondage can be done with so many things, in so many ways. Some people prefer rope and this is a common thing. The love of jute or a particular type of rope used for bondage is easy to understand. For myself it is all about leather straps. These feed the whole fetish thing, make it stronger, work together.

Fetish comes into it of course. This determines how the bondage is done. Maybe handcuffs are something that excite, the thought of loss of control and the fantasy of being captured by the police kicks in. Perhaps chains are associated with being put in a dungeon and kept immobile for the master or mistress to use. It is all about the fantasy and what makes it more real.

Another form of restriction is a wet suit. At a simplistic level the form fitting tight wet suit insulates the body against the environment. The feeling is one of losing control, of tight constriction.

Bondage triggers escape and fantasy. These are strong for me. I feel myself regress and become much more submissive. The old me recedes into the background and life becomes so much more simple. I leave my cares behind. I am in bondage and at the mercy of others. My BDSM desires and needs feel this release and a deep deep peace pervades.

What is missing from my life that I need bondage? The answer is nothing. In my early teens I tried self-bondage for no other reason than it felt good.

I was just born this way. Decades of  introspection have shown me that there is no cause other than ‘it is the way I am.’ It is at the same level as liking one type of food and disliking another.