ARE WE BDSM YET?
notes from a love bondage affair

He wasn't a rigid person, in fact at times he was (wrongly) rumored 
to be a practicing Satanist. Contrary to the rumors and 
notwithstanding his own back-of-the-mind fantasies, he never had 
any BDSM experience. Outside of fleeting fantasies at the peak, it 
simply never occurred to him in his adult life he might enjoy those 
dark, twisted, vicious scenes he read about as a kid in cheap 
sadistic porn. Those were tucked away in his mind, and he would 
have shuddered at the thought of discussing these Nazi female 
dominatrixes fantasies with his SOs, not even with very SOs, even 
in relationships that developed over a couple years. Straights can 
be so cold, so fearful. The truth is, he feared this will end the 
precious relationship at once - and was it worth it? What for? A 
handful of power sex, as he heard a girlfriend referring surprisedly 
to just a bit of pressure, realizing how far his real aspirations are 
from common reality, then forgetting about them again? Magazines 
always looked too tame, and when he showed one straight sex 
magazine to a friend, he gasped - what was soft for him was hard 
for anyone else, it seemed. And anyway, in some of the harder 
magazines, it didn't look as something you'd really wanna do. 
Rather it seemed a vicious emotional mess, and the random 
samples he got in some more powerful one-night experiences 
vaguely confirmed that: his partners at those harder nights 
happened to be weird, an anorexic girl who lost her period, a 
disturbed model. He didn't realize then that were he to judge 
generic sex by the same stick (the percentage of twisted persons 
doing it), he might give it up as well - in its entirety. No, BDSM just 
looked fit for cold, twisted, loveless souls. Why bother?

Because, as years (too many years) went by, he learned about 
endorphin, developed spiritually, self-improved, stumbled across the ASB 
FAQ, Madonna happened (oh, the photo where she half-covers her eyes, 
fearing herself and the other at once, wanting and shuddering at 
once, touched him deeper, deeper), and - this is a wild guess - 
terra was changing, deeply, irrevocably, letting go of limitations 
unneeded. Cosmic or not, he mustered enough courage to admit to 
himself, then to his partners, he'd like them to leave fingernail 
marks of love on him, souvenirs to treasure as sweet memories 
during the day after. He discovered you need to coax a partner into 
that, and he started practicing. Still, until reading the ASB FAQ it 
never occurred to him that there is a non-dark interpretation of 
BDSM, one that includes him. 

Why, that FAQ makes some activities under the ASB hood appear 
downright, uh, tasteful! They aroused his, uh, curiosity and wetted 
his, uh, imagination. Not daring to share them with anybody he 
knew, he played with these thoughts solo, making friends again 
with his old forgotten fantasies. It seemed this sank somewhere into 
his personality, and some vibes changed slightly: his next short 
affair, he suddenly found himself wrestling in bed with a tall, 
muscular dancer, enjoying the acting out of a rape that developed 
spontaneously and with good humor, and switching roles in the 
middle of the game. Technically he scene was nothing to write in 
ASB about, but it developed naturally and gradually, and was not 
negotiated - it didn't seem consequential to just go up to a girl he 
met in a work situation and got into bed with and say: let's negotiate 
a rape! They were not consciously into anything but regular sex - and 
surprised themselves. Afterwards, she confessed men often told 
her she is "forceful", and she felt this to be normal. He said, I think I 
like it. Let's have safewords. That's the last he saw of her. 

He found that trying to think less morally (in fact, just less) makes 
you more happy and resonant also in other respects than sex. He 
found he started dancing. He liked music very much, and deep 
down inside ached to dance, but could not bring himself to, unless 
drunk and in a friendly environment. Now, to his happiness he 
discovered that control was slipping, and he needed less drinks and 
less security before letting go. He found Madonna remixes and 
monotonous trance house grinding can elevate him to higher states 
of awareness. He went dancing again, then again, and at the third 
day, at 3 AM, waiting for the DJ to slip into a more "flowing" mood, 
he met a dark girl. He's so corrupted now he's convinced that 
getting the courage to go on the dancefloor with some mild house 
music, and going on stage to exhibit a live act,  as they found 
themselves very close to doing while on the trance in a regular, not 
sex club - are two points on one smooth continuum. Go with the 
flow, and just fucking DO IT seemed to him now a single feeling.  

Now, mind you, he didn't THINK about BDSM at that moment, the 
little portions of his mind which still did that ol' thinking trick just 
enjoyed life in general and invented ways to have fun. So that was 
a regular date, he guessed: they were attracted to each other and 
under the full moon they talked about raves, acid, world vibes, 
elective surgery, being positive  - regular 90's stuff. He liked her 
vulgar mini and her collar, she liked his leopard shirt and black 
pointed boots, and they were both very satisfied to be with a well-
dressed person, not aware this is no more, no less than the tip of 
the iceberg. A couple days later they made love. So far, so good, 
and I mean it, really. There was a moon too.

Having never played before, they slipped into bondage almost 
mindlessly and naturally. Negotiations may be a must, but are a 
rude way to start a friendship. Hints were sent instead: before even 
getting into bed, the first time they met not inside of a club, she was 
late. She turned a "sorry I'm late" apology, jokingly, into a mock 
drama, whining in a little voice: "Oh, I'm sorry, what can I do to make 
up for it?". The word "Master" was not yet heard from her but written 
well all over her face. His heart skipped a beat, and he replied half-
sternly, half-jokingly: "We'll discuss this when we get home, young 
lady". "Oooh", She picked the tongue-in-cheek thread at once, with 
a worried look, "hope it's something I can stand".

This gave him some courage, and when they got to his place, and 
she disappeared into the bathroom, while he made up the bed, he 
took off his trousers and in a flash of inspiration (dontthink, justdoit, 
dontthink, justdoit) put on the brand new black leather trousers he 
never had a chance to wear. "How d'you like them?" He asked  
innocently when she returned. "I just stumbled upon them in the 
cupboard now, and realized I never had worn them yet". "Hmmm", 
she eyed him admiringly, "they are really cool!". Little did she 
realize she was the first SO ever to complement him on his kinkier, 
"cheap taste" clothes the others ridiculed and feared. She touched, 
hugged and kissed him, and unbuttoned her blouse to reveal a 
black lace corset. "Like it?" she echoed him innocently. "Me too, I 
stumbled upon something in my closet today". He helped her 
opening up the buttons, slipping his hands inside of her shirt... hold 
it! Where's the bondage you ask? As in LOVE BONDAGE, the 
BONDAGE follows LOVE, first there has to be love. And anyway, 
he didn't tie her up at first. He wasn't awfully sure of himself, and 
what if she'll get squicked? How do you negotiate with a virgin? 
Maybe start informing her about the Internet... then ASB... But there 
was an easier way, because he began to trust his intuition (that part 
in his mind, he felt, not only was intact but actually thrived on 
trance) and made little surprises every time they made love, not 
realizing at the moment how he likes to surprise, getting a bit 
further each time, taking the lead (realizing he likes to dom on the 
way) but listening good. Acting on that intuition, once in the middle 
of lovemaking she stretched her arms beyond her head, he 
stopped, took his thick chain off his neck and tied them up. This 
was only symbolic, they both knew. And how! Lousy fastener 
broke... to their laughter. Next round she tied him up, circling his 
palms with her efficient velvet, Velcro-fastened "choker" collar, and he 
realized he likes to bottom, too, and further, that he actually wishes 
to be tied, to be really fastened in place, perhaps to a strong setting 
in a wall, or a cross - restraining his naturally pain-resisting body. 
This vision, terrible as it were, came up with no effort, and was 
totally intuitive, as at that time he didn't know yet about leaving your 
body behind, or going nonverbal. The dentist taught him of this, but 
that's another story, and not what you think. 

At breakfast, they discussed what they did, each gauging the 
other's reaction: has a beast reared its head? not quite, they 
decided. Not yet, said a little fear, but no one listened. Their self 
assurance and trust continued to build up in a couple months to a 
degree of intimacy they never had in relationships that lasted years. 
They started wearing things to show up and tease one another, 
caring less and less about public reaction, slipping into everyday 
life. Certain articles of clothing, clothes of certain materials, clothes 
of a certain shape, clothes with symbols on them. The reactions of 
Mr. Public, and Ms. Public even more BTW, were not as harsh as 
they thought... in fact they had some surprises as some of their 
least expected acquaintances expressed approval of our newfound 
kinkiness, with a grin. With some, they wondered if they weren't 
being made a pass at. All these clothes that were doubling as regular 
clothes and play wear, and various toys, were all over the place 
after every play session. Sometimes they would tend to forget to 
pick them up, snuggling and falling asleep at once, waking up not 
remembering exactly where they left each and every toy, and it was 
just a question of time till a repairman accidentally found some toys 
and a used condom, to their embarrassment.

He usually dommed, but that wasn't a rule (not much of other rules 
round there either) - and he sensed his partner needs to dom once 
awhile, perhaps as a proof to herself she's still in some control and 
not "really" turning into a passive slave. At first, she found the new 
role much more difficult and demanding than she expected... but it 
really strengthened a more self-assured, calmer personality in her. 
And he was looking forward to it (wondering, can he command her 
to dom him?) cause he liked his share of pain, dreaming of his 
whipping post. 

They noticed that every time they came home from dancing, they 
had great sex. He'd tie her hands behind her back and spank her 
ass with his bare hand, till both were screaming with pain. Once, he 
tied her to the wall, one among a few discussed ways to create 
tieable things not noticeable to visitors. They were into pain by then, 
but did not feel any need for overt "education" or "taming" themes - 
they just went at it till they were red or till they were too loud. 
Domination was expressed in NOT bringing the other person to 
sexual release, and in pain, and the word "master" was uttered only 
later, in fact after she quietly tested him, making sure he won't 
squick her. One day, when she was satisfied about that, she came 
to him and said gravely: "master, command yer slave". 
He ordered her to undress him slowly and bring over some 
heavy metal chains that were part of the decor (actually, they were 
put there in his less aware days, as part of the decor!), and since it 
was cold, warmed them a bit over the fireside. Well, just a bit too 
much, actually - unintentionally, honest! - and she gasped when the 
hot metal touched her hardening nipples (hey, pulp-style writing! 
mmm, couldn't resist it) keeping silent like a good slave. He tied her 
with the metal chains, round her body, with her hands fastened to her 
thighs, rendering her completely helpless. Was he excited! This was the 
fulfillment of a vision but at once the beginning of another road.

Their first handcuffs they picked up in a children's toy corner at a 
mall. They were golden, made of plastic, cheap mock silver lock that 
broke at the first attempt to use. HAHAHA, but that hurt a bit too 
much - cuffs tend to tighten dangerously - and a bit of panic when 
the key broke. Lucky there was an extra key in the package. Lucky 
also those weren't metal cuffs with a broken key! 

Dissatisfied with toy cuffs he mustered up some more courage and 
went, for the first time in his life, into a sex shop. He got a set of 
leather arm and leg cuffs with plastic chains, made in Hong Kong. 
Asking to see a whip, the guy in the shop showed him a huge 
brown leather whip. He shuddered and left it at the shop. The cuffs 
provided for a better time, and in fact he could have her hit him real 
painful for the first time, without his body wriggling out of the way. It 
broke too, as they got more intense, she shouting: "bad slave, bad 
slave!". 

About that time they were invited to a mask ball party in a regular 
club. They wore masks, leather, chains - not much left to the 
imagination. A guy came up to him and whispered in his ear: you 
are my fantasy. 

One day she shared her vibrator with him. Somehow this was a 
deeper secret with her than any outrageous toy. 

Then they got the nipple clips. And the better clothes, and the 
Malibu. He was planning on the brown whip. She bought them a whip as 
present. 

Their day clothes kept changing: more fur & leather, tighter, tighter 
clothes. They also became leaner from dancing a lot. On a limited 
budget, they bought clothes that could be used three way: work, 
club, sex.  

They started taking skating lessons and fantasized about bright, 
synthetic, colorful sportswear, very tight and very vulgar.

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