Bondage Thoughts

A friend of Master is currently in university doing her major in English Literature and because she is also a very sexual person (she comes over to our household a lot! I’ve served her many many ways) she decided to take a course called “The History of Sexuality”. University is awesome! But the purpose of this post is really about an article in this text book of hers. It’s actually drawn from a letter that was written in to “DungeonMaster” magazine. She read it to me, oddly enough while I was hogtied at her feet suffering from my toes touching the back of my own head, and I fell in love with it. It made me want to post about it here for you – and I found this image from Roperookie.com that kind of put a visual image to the article – Hope you enjoy!

Here I am inside, bound, helpless, vulnerable. The man who bound me can keep me here for as long as it pleases him. He can display me to others or just leave me alone. There is time now to dwell upon my condition, consider my limits, concentrate my will and stamina to stay the course. I want to prove myself to myself as well as to him. I must endure this bondage. i am forced to live with it – in it. I abandon myself to a fate totally beyond my control. And the deeper the restrant infuses my spirit, the more it liberates, and – yes, gives freedom! And all the time there is a stirring warmth, a sense of unutterable joy in my loins, and even orgasm, though eventually desirable, is now unimportant. The whole trip is an orgasm. I occasionally drift away from the consciousness of my surroundings; my senses do turn off from time to time, and I’m left with only the struggle of my mind to come to terms with isolation and discomfort; to transcend, and be released from pain by the sheer force of my will. I’m proud to be here. it turns me on to know that the person suffering, struggling, exhilerated and satisfied – is me. The more I’m bound, the freer I feel. I’m glad to have others know this. Bondage means different things to different people. To some, it’s the means to an end; to others, and end in itself. It’s as awesomely beautiful to behold as it is to experience. it’s aesthetic as well as erotic; mentasl as well as physical. True bondage is inescapable bondage; it is when my Top puts me into resraints from which I cannot free myself. The man who binds me, binds me to himself as the instigator and perpetrator of whatever agony and ecstasy is to follow. I start by indulging in fantasy, then grow inward, and finally retreat from superficial reality into true reality. If we understand each other, if we have a rapport, he may then take me deeper, and as I approach my endurance limit, he will help me to steel myself against the Panic. The ultimate, and the most rewarding aspect of bondage is that moment when I feel that I cannot endure another second of the restrant, and I cry out for release. But he, my Top, is there to guide me through the barriers of my limits. I would not want to fail him, much less myself. He knows that I always try not to use a release code – that despite my pleas and whimperings, his is the judgment, his the decision. then my “Thank You” for the trip to heaven to hell and back is heatfelt and sincere. Thank You, Sir.

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