Restraint is a wonderful practice in self-control for any place but the bedroom\’unless by restraint you mean captivity via ropes and handcuffs. When I tie up my lover I feel a flush of power begin at the base of my spine and shoot up my throat until the words, “Don’t struggle, it will just make it worse for you, find their way from my mouth into her ear. But if she fights me a bit, I don’t really mind. It’s almost more satisfying to confine her after a bit of rough play. Once her bonds are secure, the beauty of restraint is that through her imprisonment she’s now free to lean back and enjoy the ride. And she knows it.
When I was a newly-made lesbian, one of my first girlfriends announced that she could not come unless tied up. I knew nothing about bondage and found myself forced to improvise. Luckily, I was a quick learner and must have been a sailor in another life since I seemed to have a natural talent for tying knots\’all of which made her very happy. Now I use those knots for only the most special ladies.
The first time someone tied me up took place at a private women’s party where a dominatrix on duty trussed me like a Christmas turkey. The knots were so tight that I could barely breathe, let alone move. As the rope chafed my skin and constricted my lungs, I felt reborn out of that utter helplessness.
She now lays before me spread eagle. The leather cuffs pull her arms out to the sides in ultimate surrender and the rope keeps her legs open wide. She becomes the blank canvas for my spontaneous inspiration. I will create a masterpiece in pleasure that could not have been born from any other moment. I cover her eyes with a silk scarf to increase her anticipation. Her breathing quickens and her lips part as she becomes increasingly aroused.
When I finally descend upon her captive pussy, she nearly screams. There are no limits to what I will do to her. But she trusts me–and that’s the biggest turn on of all.