Note : I first published this in a special issue of Punchriot Magazine over a year ago.
The frantic thrashing and struggling sounds from the other room continued as the muffled cries for mercy, mixed as they were with deep groans of pleasure, fell upon my unconcerned ears.
Over this, I could just make out the low, persistent hum of the Hitachi wand. I gazed over the kitchen mantle and watched with satisfaction as she struggled and strained against the ropes binding her hands and feet to the chair. I smiled and returned to making my lunch.
With a small fork I whisked the egg mixture briskly then set the bowl aside to turn the flame on low and set my new small cast iron pan down. I had already coated it with a thin layer of unsalted butter and it was now time to transform the yellow liquid into my lunchtime omelette.
It's always a tad bit exciting to try out newly purchased items, isn't it? Particularly when you have a beautiful woman in the other room naked, except for black thigh highs and heels, roped tightly to a chair and gagged with her own panties. Yes, you read that right, a gag made from her own sopping wet panties.
More struggling, followed by whimpering and exasperated crying. The wand hummed on mercilessly. The heavy, old wooden chair creaked.
"Ohhhhhh, gddddd!" She screamed into her panty gag. A scream of pure, visceral pleasure.
Oh yes, indeed. Sometimes it's an over-sized, mouth widening, bright red or purple ball gag. Here and there I’ll employ an inflatable butterfly gag, pumping it up, stretching her mouth wide and full. Like a chipmunk with it’s mouth stuffed with food.
Not today. It's her own used panties this time, packed tightly in her mouth and held first by three crisscrossing layers of white micro-foam (hypoallergenic) tape, and then a roll of black vet wrap, leaving only her little nose free for air.
Her breathing was now ragged, erupting in uncontrolled gasps like an asthma victim wobbling on the edge of complete panic. The chain connecting the two Japanese clover clamps, one on each nipple, jangled and shook. Hmm, maybe I’ll add a little bell next time and some weights.
I knew at that point her eyes were rolling in the back of her head in sheer ecstasy.
I smiled again and tipped the bowl and let the egg slowly flow slowly into the iron pan.
Wait, hold on. That’s not where I got my start. This scene came much later. That was just a tease and an excerpt from my BDSM book. Something to grab your perverted attention and whet your appetites.
Let’s roll back the ponderous mists of time and replay some scenes from 2003-04, shall we?
I was newly separated from my wife at the time.
Yes, I was married once. Lasted a year. That is a story for another time.
During that separation time I had hooked up with a friend and former co-worker who was also going through a separation. This ‘friend’ and I had always battled a mutual attraction to each other for which we had never indulged due to timing and circumstance. She was younger than me, possessing a very lush body; Pale skin, beautiful hips, outstanding C cup breasts, and gorgeous red hair. I still have recorded video of several sessions.
Quick aside. If you’re going to watch porn, make your own. It’s particularly fun if you create bondage porn with your girls.
Now, the stars were aligning, and the time proved to be absolutely and undeniably in our favor.
We started seeing each other. No formal “dates” really. We fucked. I was coming out of a breakup with my wife. She was leaving her husband. We wanted no strings attached sex and some companionship.
I knew this would not last this way, however.
For now, I wanted to fuck her and no more. This is what I wanted. This is what I got. I made it happen.
I told her “This is going to change for one of us, one day. On that day, one of us will want something more. It ain’t gonna be me.”
This proved to be true, but I am getting ahead of myself.
I didn’t view this woman as a potential anything at the time. Could that have changed for me? Maybe. Not then.
I set my boundaries and acted accordingly.
I fucked the shit out of this woman. I pleased myself with her body. I tied her down and shaved her monster bush. I dislike a hairy pussy. I want bare floors. I roped her down tightly to my coffee table, legs splayed back like a greater than symbol, gagged her and had my way with her.
I was unmerciful with her body. I traveled to her house not far from me and had my way with her on her couch, bed, and shower. I whipped, flogged, paddled, and beat this woman. She loved it. I owned this woman’s pussy. I owned her, for the moment.
I recall a time we were in a local Borders Bookstore together. I was wandering around and suddenly, I felt eyes upon me. I looked up and there she was, a few aisles over, gazing at me with wide eyes and mouth slightly open. She later told me she was dripping wet right there in the bookstore.
This woman would do anything for me. And she did. I wasn't mean to this woman by any way shape or form, but I did not treat her the conventional way I treated women in my youth and that many men still do now. So many men are afraid they might do or say the wrong thing and the girl will leave them. Too many men are afraid to unleash their inner beasts, their inner Dominants.
Fuck that. I did not buy her gifts, I did not appease or attempt to please her, I did not compromise on anything, I did not supplicate myself to her.
I’ve heard it all before...
“What the hell man, that’s just wrong.”
“You’re a misogynist” Hurr Durr.
I am laughing out loud. Misogynist? Look up the word, you pudwack. I do not, nor have I ever, hated women.
What did I do? I was bold, confident, audacious and cocky. I didn’t care if she left or if she stayed. I fucked the living shit out of her whilst having her in sexual bondage. (as in rope, tape, plastic wrap, etc.). I most certainly did NOT treat her like another FRIEND.
This is key, gentlemen.
I also, in effect, Alpa-BDSM-Widowed (a new term I have coined - watch out for it soon) this woman. I left her wanting more. NO ONE else had ever treated her like this. NO ONE else had ever so boldly had his way with her the way I did. She loved it. She craved it. And most likely, still does.
Then the scenario changed, as I knew it would - I was moving on to seeing other women.
She soft-core stalked me. We were not boyfriend and girlfriend. She knew the deal. That didn’t matter. She wanted more. Left a plant as a gift with a note on my doorstep. Texted me constantly. I recall one text that I will never forget.
“Please tie me up to your coffee table again and bang me!”
I am not mocking this woman. This is an example offered up as an illustration of my point.
Dominate your women, gentlemen, or someone else will.
Now, how did all of this come about? Some of you might be wondering this. Vincent, how did all this get started? Surely not with the red head you just told us about?
Well, I’ve had an interest and proclivity towards BDSM since I was a child, really. Viewing women in movies and television shows that were kidnapped, tied up, and in distress/danger always attracted me. It’s in my blood, somehow. I was probably an Spanish Inquisitor in another life. That, or I’ve got some racial memories tapping into the Marquis De Sade.
Wonder Woman tied up with her own golden lasso? Fucking Sexy. Erotic. A woman taken from behind, hand clamped over her mouth, her muffled screams echoing around my head. I wanted to BE that man taking her.
A female childhood friend and I would often play these kidnap scenarios which would essentially involve me sneaking up behind her, grabbing her around the waist with one arm, and with my other hand firmly over her mouth as she struggled against my hold on her. We were about 10 or 11 at the time. I often wonder if she ever reminisces back to those days and ponders miserably over why her life is not quite exactly the fulfilling adventure she was hoping for? Maybe. I believe every woman needs a Dominant man.
Imagine all this before the internet, however. You KNOW you’re different. You think you’re an abnormal sexual freak. No one to talk to about this. Are there others like you? Surely, right? It’s not like I was aware of any clubs or organizations. I had to be content reading the John Norman ‘Gor’ novels, my own imagination, and the occasional Detective Magazine, which always printed spicy, soft-core bondage/kidnap porn stories.
Then came the internet. Oh glorious magic that is the world wide web! Thank you God!
It was all over after that. I was unleashed in 1998 when I found bondage porn and websites featuring submissive women. It was through random searching that I found insex.com - delving deep into THAT rabbit hole of extreme bondage torture/sado-masochism was an eye opener, even for me.
I was hooked immediately. Friends and I joked that the only reason for high speed internet, (which, back then, was DSL), was for porn.
Insex went live in 1997 and was the creation of former Carnegie-Mellon University professor, Brent Scott (also known as ‘PD”).
“If you won’t allow me to teach your children, then I will corrupt them.” - ‘PD’.
I joined the site in 1999 and it fed my own ideas and roleplay scenarios. I was introduced to mummification bondage, wax and electro-torture, breath control, breast bondage, and countless other techniques and concensual bondage sex tortures via this website. It was (and is) glorious.
The site was eventually shut down by the Department of Homeland Security (on retarded charges) in 2005 or 2006. At the time it had over 35,000 members paying $60/month to view and interact with the content.
I say interact because he was the first to offer a voice chat on the site wherein members could type out their comments and bondage torture requests, which were then projected onto walls, and a robotic female voice could be heard reading them back out loud.
“Pain is a very prejudiced term in the sense that there’s a value judgement associated with that and somehow it’s a negative thing apart from other good intense experiences like orgasm, but they’re all of a common kind; endorphins, adrenaline, hormones create a state of euphoria, and coupled with orgasm it’s tantamount to religious experience.”
I’ve been involved with and participated in the BDSM ‘scene’ for well over 16 years now. As with anything, practice and exposure (insert Nick’s sex joke here) will get you the experience, confidence, and submissive women you desire.
I get asked all the time how I do what I do. It’s like trying to explain breathing to someone.
Fuck. You just DO it. Like being a Dominant. It’s part of who I am now. It flows naturally. Thus, it’s difficult to explain and give a prescription for doing it. Obviously, books are a good start, however you need to immerse yourself with action.
Like the philosopher William James stated, “Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does.”
The same can be said of your behavior which you desire to change or adopt. In this case, it is Dominance, and that consists of Leadership, Confidence, Boldness, & Playfulness. If you fall back on excuses and wallow in the “that’s just not me”, then you’re off to a shit start, my friend, and you have bigger problems that need addressing. Keep reading Punchriot magazine, though, that’ll assist you with getting yourself unfucked, for sure. Read, and then go play; for it is only in the action that you begin to develop your own flow, your own Dominant style. Act accordingly. And above all, you must be comfortable expressing your masculine sexuality.
Now, I figured out, fairly early on in my BDSM ‘career’, that I was quite good at ‘ferreting out’ the women that were latently, or secretly, submissive. Now, not all submissive women are into bondage, and not all women who love bondage are submissive. The confluence of both is the best, of course. It’s up to you to lead and explore this.
I have no idea how I do this, so don’t ask. Once again, it’s like breathing. I just do it. Besides, there is not time or space here in this essay to do so. This isn't science. It’s an art. So woe unto you lead paint eating extreme binary thinkers.
Here’s an example. This is a submissive of mine (former co-worker) that is still in my BDSM stable (harem). It’s been over 8 years now. This woman’s slightly submissive nature was obvious to me. After a few conventional dates and vanilla sex, I introduced and unleashed bondage on her. She’s under my spell, so to speak. Below is one of our text messages back when she was first introduced to BDSM.
She will always crave this with me.
Here is one of my submissive’s over a Christmas Season (2019) during a mummification (red and green vet wrap) bondage sex session. And yes, she has been collared (complete with my first name).
While bondage and bondage sex may not be for every Man, I will argue that being Dominant in your dealings and relationships with women is paramount. Dismiss my wisdom and experience at your own peril. And, notice I said Dominant and not domineering. There is a difference. Look it up.
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