From L.L., who I tied at a party for the first time last Saturday:
This morning I was looking in the mirror – at my breasts, which are a bit fuller and more sensitive than usual because my period is coming. I ran a hand around each and then cupped them, feeling their weight and just-out-of-bed warmth. I pulled and pinched the nipples until just before it was painful, then took my hands away and admired them.
I started thinking of them bound by rope and how the aureole and nipples of each would be poking out at an angle I’d never seen them. And I wondered: would they be more sensitive?
Keeping my eyes on myself in the mirror, I thought about how the effect of rope on breasts (to flatten them, if fully bound, or to elongate them, or make them a bubble in a really painful looking tie I’ve seen) and the intended look of those binds stands in stark contrast with the general ‘desire’ to have breasts that stand up on their own.
Since being bound on Saturday evening, I’ve thought of many ways in which I might be bound, and even considered suspension. I’ve also been struggling to come up with a word for the sound the rope makes when the loose ends are pulled through. It’s a wonderful sound, and one which sounds like the corresponding feeling of air rushing past my skin as the rope rushes by. And since being bound in a room full of people I didn’t know very well (or at all), I’ve begun to wonder what it would be like to be naked in a room full of people I don’t know very well (or at all), and if I would enjoy it.
Being tied was such a sensual experience – the feel of the rope on my skin or against the fabric of my slip, the warmth from your hands and your body as you tied me, the sounds of the rope and your voice, and the sensation of being restrained which led to so many more sensations…
I have an almost sad feeling now. An ache for the feel of rope and heat and restraint.
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