Secrets of the Women's Self-Bondage Cult (9 page)

       Needless to say, I have not shared these photos or videos with very many people. However, I have met a few other kinks who had their own photo/video collections and we seemed to enjoy sharing the materials, illustrating our private sessions with the cameras.

       So, the question then comes up: are we closet exhibitionists, just unable to go the next step into showing the world our activities? I don't know the answer to that one.

       The questionnaire and interviewers asked about my favorite accessories. I guess, if I had my choice, a camera would be part of that list, but in reality, it is very hard to set up and film a personal SB session. Lighting, time, location and the camera's capabilities are all factors here. Even more vital though, is how I think I look and would look on camera. Often, the answer is "not very well", so I pass it up and just enjoy the moment without recording it. Deep in the back of my mind is the concern that if something happens to me, I am not sure that I want whoever has to clean up my apartment to have to deal with these personal archives. They may or may not be shocked, but do I want my interests revealed? It is arguable that since I'll be dead, it will make no difference. That may be so, but it is a concern that largely governs what I record.

       I have used cameras to record specific details, such as how my breasts are bound or how a particular chastity belt fits. This is always a challenge, but it yields results that allow me to review how I am bound and possibly provides some opportunity to review and improve on what I have done. It occurs to me that the idea of filming oneself in bondage and actually enjoying seeing the video or photos may be a bit twisted to some people, but I cannot let that dominate my thinking on this.

       Okay. What other tools of the trade do I use? Automatic stimulation from a variety of sources has been a key part of my SB sessions for a few years. It started with a few simple vibrators and graduated to the current expensive and fascinating Fucking Machine (FM) units. I mean mechanical fucking machines, not powered dildoes. Some of these are very crude, but, by process of elimination and spending a lot of money over a few years, I have found two units that are extremely well made and effective. Need I add here that nothing out of the box does the job. You must take what is provided and adapt it to your own personal needs. For example, one electric FM I bought early on is pretty basic. It pumps a shaft in and out and that's it. After about ten minutes of this mindlessness, I doubt any woman into SB would find it very exciting. I grant that some of us are so into it that anything, from a pocket vibrator to a pile driver may do the trick, but….well, sophistication is the deal for me, so I like to have things a bit more subtle and that means adaptation. I have found that a FM with variable speeds and the ability to change the kind of thrust is preferable to the straight in and out kind. They certainly cost more!

       Additions to the machine include a double probe that allows drilling in two holes at the same time, different extensions, from a simple rubber phallus to more sophisticated, (there's that word again), faux pricks and other long, serrated, twisted, fat and wrinkled forms that I find in sex shops around the world. Adding a double serrated dick probe with its own internal, battery-driven mechanical action is an interesting variation that takes some time to get it right, but I must say it is, at this time, the ultimate configuration.

       Here's how this is set up: I position the FM so that it remains stationary, no matter what my contortions, while bound, may be. This is important because you do not want a heavy, electric motor, drivers and shaft moving around while you enjoy exploring its abilities. So I bolt the base of the FM down to a sturdy platform and this same platform becomes my bondage base as well. I attach various D rings, eyebolts and other "hard points" to this platform. When not in use, it is stored in my garage and no one has ever asked what it's for.

       Once the platform is properly set up and in position, usually on the bed or on the floor, I attach the accessories I want to use and test them. I set the speed and functions of the FM motor. There are more advanced versions that allow remote control of these functions, but again, they are costly. If I am inclined, I attach a special animated dildo to the end of the shaft and this to some degree frees me from having to worry about the FM's operation, which is usually pure in and out movement at a certain speed. Although it may sound dull, the consistent reaming motion can be fascinatingly effective, given time. I know this contradicts my earlier remarks, but the battery-powered working head is where the action is and this can and will drive me mad.

       Once the FM and attachments are set up and I have tested to make sure the reach and extent of the probing is correct, I arrange my bondage gear on the platform. From a German friend who is an expert at using his lovely wife as a test bed for all sorts of S&M gadgets, I learned about the use of common household door springs in such a setting and these have helped me get more movement while still tied or chained to the platform. In this case, I kneel on the platform. Mounted next to my hand is an on/off switch for the FM. I find this is important so that you are not being fucked and buggered until you are ready for it. It also helps me get properly aligned with the FM's long, flexible shaft. I usually use cuffs and chains for this scene, so I lock the cuffs on ankles, wrists, legs above the knee, arms above the elbow, leaving the short chains attached to the cuffs. If I want a gag, I put it on now. The same goes for a blindfold or hood. I often use a hood with a built-in leather collar and use the collar's D rings to pull my head down to the platform. I do this before my legs and torso are fully connected to the platform with chains and, at times, to the long springs, which pull me back into position if I try to escape the drilling of my cunt and asshole. I place chains or springs on either side of my waist belt, make sure they are tight by taking the slack out on the attached turnbuckles, then put on the gag and/or hood. I reach out blindly and snap the spring-loaded safety links into the eyebolts at the far sides of the platform and, in one last move, hit the on switch for the FM. The battery-powered gut-grinder prick on the end of the shaft, already generously lubricated with a sticky gel, has been running for a while, so as soon as the FM starts up, the head starts drilling into my double holes. The effect of the first thrust is surely much like sudden rape, but my body has been primed for this all the while I was getting on the platform, locking down my arms and legs and dripping my own lubricants, so the impact is mostly psychological as the twin probes make their initial entry and rattle around inside, then withdraw. The computer-programmed FM is in its initial mode. Forward, stop, jiggle, stop, backwards, halt for a two-second delay, then repeat the sequence until shut off. There are three available modes and this is the one I like. The others are basic in and out and a series of high speed sequences with short stops in between. The more advanced the machine, the more modes are available.

       As this session progresses, I will struggle on the platform, tugging at the chains and being brought back to center by the springs. I can change this set-up by eliminating the springs and then I am held firmly on the platform and the ass and cunt-hammering becomes more pronounced and explicit. I like being able to wiggle my ass and hips, enhancing the FM's work and bring up the orgasms more quickly. However, if I want to draw this whole thing out, I can reach over with one finger and shut the FM down while I cool off and start it again later.

       I have only had one slightly scary experience with this arrangement when the combination of my movements and the vibration of the machine caused the on/off switch to come unfastened and thus I was not able to shut the thing off when I was topping out, screaming into the hood and gag. The fucking machine and its little rotating thing at the end of the shaft just kept on drilling me. The impact was so great that I became a mindless fuckee on the end of a battering ram, tossing about on the platform, chained, gagged, hooded and endlessly fucked and buggered. I can't say how long this went on, but a thunderstorm saved me. The power in the apartment went off and the FM stopped. I was soaked in sweat, whimpering into the hood and gag, desperate to get free. Finally, in the silent darkness, I was able to stretch out my hand and get to the spring safety release. Once I was free, I was okay, but that memory has stayed with me in both the fear and the ecstasy forms.

       My last comment is about safety. I discovered a while back a very handy little item that you can buy on line or in tack stores where equestrian equipment is sold. These are heavy metal connectors intended to be used as an emergency release when you have a horse cross-tied with rope or chain from his bridle to the sidewalls of the stall or aisle. Horses being what they are, in a panic, they will pull directly on the chains. If a knot is tied in the rope or the chain is attached to the walls with snap hooks, it is unlikely that anyone, even risking harm, will be able to release the snap hooks. In the end, the horse either gets hurt or, more likely the thousand-pound animal, in panic, rips the hardware out of the post or wall. The safety releases prevent this because they have spring releases that will work even when the chain or rope is under strong tension. For our kind of fun and games, these devices are very, very good insurance and I use them in almost all SB situations. It is one thing to be able to unlock a cuff or a padlock when you are free enough to do so, but when you cannot reach the key or you have accidentally put yourself in too much tension, the safety releases will save your butt.

Chapter Seven

Being bound in a secret closet for long periods of time

 requires resources many SB practitioners may not have.

Patti's private closet opens some interesting glimpses into how involved and complex this fetish can become.

Patti - Control Freak

       I'm not sure exactly when it dawned on me, but I had been tying myself up in the closet for many years before I realized that one of the many benefits of SB was that only I am able to control what is going on. No one is telling me what to do or how to do it. This, my psychology counselor assures me, is a very critical element in understanding SB and why I do it. I suspect that it applies to a majority of those here and the rest of the scene as well.       Until I sought counseling, I was convinced that what I was doing was weird and wrong. The multi-religious ethics about guilt and sin and corruption didn't help. Fortunately, I found a great counselor. While she does not pretend to understand the entire BDSM scene, let alone the SB portions, she sees no harm in it and is a proponent of self-expression in many forms. Sharing the needs with others, she and I agree, has benefits and drawbacks. And that brings me to the earlier point about SB being a control issue.

       I mentioned that I spend a lot of SB time in the closet and that has double meaning because I have a walk-in closet that is the size of some bedrooms. It once was a bedroom and I changed the floor plan for obvious reasons. The second part of the double meaning is that even with therapy, I remain unable to discuss my SB habit with anyone else. I agreed to the interviews here because it was a chance to do so in total anonymity and I even talked from behind a screen. So I am a closet/closet SB freak.

       The closet is well equipped for my pleasure. It has a small refrigerator and freezer, a phone line and a charger for my cell phone, an overkill assortment of wire cutters, bolt cutters, knives and scissors, as well as spare keys and other such emergency back-up items. Stocking the room has been a long-term enterprise for me. While other women may agonize over a choice of new shoes, I spend hours gazing at displays in hardware stores, home improvement centers and tack shops. Some day, I'll need to expand the closet again because it will have run out of space for the racks, drawers and trunks that are nearly full of costumes and equipment needed in my closet endeavors.

       I have never had an accident or been hurt while engaging in SB, but I can testify that a too tight rope or cuff can leave marks that have to be tended to, perhaps all too often.

       A favorite restraint? That's one of those touchy subjects for me. I must say that if you are not into breast torture, just skip the rest of this story and read something else.

       Candidly, (and I cannot believe that I'm revealing this here), I enjoy and get wonderfully complete orgasms from breast bondage in combination with other rather normal ties. I love having my tits tormented and have devised a dozen or more ways of doing this. One side effect of this fetish is creating a group of bras that I wear day to day. I initially bought a few so-called "discipline bras" and found them useless and badly made. That led me to experiment with my own innovations. One versatile device is a bra liner that slips into the cups and drives me nuts. This is nothing more than extra rough sandpaper cut and formed to fit inside the bra cup. Initially, it feels just, oh, sort of funny, but in time, with movement and sweat, it takes on enough impact to send me to the lady's room for a short masturbatory session every now and then.

       Another version is really diabolical and I had to make several of these before I got it just right. I removed the thin interior seamless lining of one bra and carefully inserted thumb tacks so that the points stick through the liner and rub very nastily on the breast that is contained in the cup. The fun thing about this is that I had to experiment with different bra designs and sizes to find one that I could wear without screaming after a few minutes. I settled on a rather expensive model that has elastic straps and allows a lot of jiggle and some space inside the cup. I have, since I grew up, hated the conventional bras that are presently popular in America and seem designed to stop any breast movement at all. No jiggle, no fun, as far as I'm concerned.