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EXIT

A First Impression

In Bondage

John Plimsoll

John Plimsoll Gallery

Nawashi Murakawa

Rope Bondage

Suspension

Tied and Teased

A First
Impression

Bondage. What does it feel like? It's almost indescribable to those who have never experienced it but here, a first time submissive to rope bondage puts his thoughts and feelings in words.

I am a middle aged man who has wanted to be tied up by a woman all my adult life. My wife and I mix bondage into our private lives, but she isn't naturally dominant. Surfing around the web I came across Miss Spiteful's site. My mouth dried at what I saw: this was the real deal. We exchanged emails and I made an appointment.

Miss Spiteful is very versatile. It is a breadth that comes from intelligence, rather than thinly stretched over-ambition. I asked if we could be informal with each other. That was fine.

Upstairs in her house is a black-walled room that houses all her kit. Dungeons aren't my scene but in there, she has plenty of smooth, worn rope on hand - now that is definitely me! I endured two bondage experiences. Miss Spiteful told me I was missing out by wanting to remain clothed, but she went along with it anyway. I took her advice and stripped off for the second experience. This was my first time in real bondage.

I thought I knew what to expect - a sexy conflict of male ego submitting to a woman; the potency of helplessness; the sensation of biting ropes when I struggled.

It was much, much more than that.

I simply didn't anticipate the absolute blackout of the clinging rubber blindfold, the sheer unyielding grip of the ropes. I imagined that when I wanted to feel their hold, I'd struggle against them a little. I underestimated Miss Spiteful's skill at rope bondage and I underestimated Miss Spiteful.

There is no struggle. The ropes squeezed my entire body in a vice lock. There isn’t a millimeter of slack. At every point, they were never less than absolutely taught. I felt like a guitar, being tuned to beyond pitch, every string wound to barely tolerable tension.

In the blind, powerless black, I took a journey. In all my previous experience, exploration has meant going out or up: boarding a plane to somewhere else; riding a lift to the viewing deck on the highest floor. This was a journey within, and down. One of the earliest stops on the line is erotic sensation. In every sense of the phrase, that’s where I thought I’d get off. But that’s a station you shoot right through, and speed further in, deeper down.

Miss Spiteful’s bondage isn’t about rope. It’s what Midori, the San Franciscan sexual educator, calls ‘sub-space’: an intensely inner body experience. A place I had never visited before, and will never return to without the help of an expert of Miss Spiteful’s skill and intuition.

It isn’t cheap; but then, the hours seem to evaporate in minutes and all the time, Miss Spiteful is investing her own nervous system into this service. Giving emotional energy and invention to strangers must be hard work.

After the session, over a cup of tea, Miss Spiteful asked me how I felt. I was lost for adequate words then, and still am now. It was intense, extraordinary and astonishing; one of the milestone experiences of my life.



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