There was a point where, once we finally plunked down just a little bit more for that 4,235 point restraint system, I realized it was for real. I remember it pretty clearly. Before, it was like “yeah, I can move, I can even probably pull loose and stop things if I wanted to, just… because.
But there was this realization that there was simply no way to get away. I mean, sure, safewords are always there and we have always talked about what is ok (and not) and all of that. But it’s one thing to talk about it, but then another to realize that, short of those, you really are invested in the trust of the situation.
As I lay there, I realize it’s “for real.” That takes a while for me to bounce around in my head, to really come to terms not with the really well beaten up “you asked for this” but also for the “and she really enjoys this,” and the fact that those two come together squarely with my body in the middle. It’s super exciting when we start.
When we start…
It’s never NOT exciting. But there is a point where the sub side of me simply HAS to kick in, because if it doesn’t, I’m squealing and making a fuss trying to treat things all logic-like “ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch … that … hurts” usually just generates a grin. But if the sub side of me is allowed to kick in, it changes to a thing of giving her what she’s taking from me – rather than just trying to survive, it’s about opening up, letting things flow out to her.
She likes to play with getting a baseline of sensation going – it’s like she’s laying this foundation to be built on. Bites, hickey-type things that end with bites, the wharton wheel or wheels… everywhere. Electricity. Clamps.
The clamps are a beast. My world closes in so very tight when those clamps go on. It’s all I can do to just stick through that massive initial wave of sensation. I feel it literally head-to-toe. and then it settles in to this new dull roar foundation of sensation. And she builds on that, again.
Every now and then though, she returns to the clamps, or, more specifically, to the chain between them. She’ll lock eyes with me (if I can see her) and she’ll get that grin, and reach for the chain, lifting it, pulling on it, TWISTING it. That twist is a double-edged sword, as is everything with the clamps. It hits me hard visually, and initially when she starts with it, but then again – as the twist undoes, everything releases just a bit, tweaking me even more. A couple of those and I’m in a very small mental space, indeed, purely focused on the here and now.
The clamps are a beast. My weakness. It’s like impact play – I love the thought of it, I love the aftermath at times. But the implementation in that flash of a moment when it’s happening, yeah. Not so much. Clamps are like that. I feel a little like that character on “Inside Out” – like the top of my head will simply explode. But it’s such a rush immediately after, and the fear and adrenaline and all of that is … well, powerful.
But the clamps must also come off.
And pulling them off sometimes comes with an added little tweak. Just to make sure I know she can, if she wants to. It’s all about control.
That last twist just about has me blowing a gasket as they twist, then come off. For some reason, she’s always just out of my reach, and has been known to double-check restraints … go figure.
I’m not sure what’s more twisted. The chain, the situation, or me.