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The online diary of an ethical pervert.

Tuesday, 3 February 2009


The Photographer has a lot of black clingfilm. It's actually pallet wrap, so it's stronger and thicker. I love plastic, the smooth almost wet feel of it and the way it sticks to contours and skin. Mummification is something I do not get to do nearly often enough, so when I am given the opportunity it is nice to be given the time to relish it. Preparation is important, the house is warm and I've laid out on the bed everything that he asked for: wrap, thinner tape for the face, a ball gag, scissors and a book. I sit down, naked, on the edge of the bed and he slowly tapes up my eyes. Each band presses tighter than the last, and I can feel my cunt get wet with the anticipation of how it will be when my entire body is bound. He fastens the gag around my head and then tapes over it. There's a chill that runs down the back of my neck - I've never been this constricted before, there is just a tiny gap under my nose for me to breathe. I play with the gag in my mouth, feeling the saliva start to flow and enjoying the press of my wet lips against the tape.

He binds me in stages. Head. Then torso, he binds my hands to my side and smooths the wrap down around my neck. He lifts up my legs, holding them tight together and binds them tight, then placing me on the bed he finally encases my feet. I'm complete. Finished. Perfect. A shiny, black cocoon, snug within myself. I am calm, content, riding a wave of slow, warm arousal which builds, but not aggressively: there is no desperate need to come right now instead a comforting, ongoing appreciation of pleasure, like dreaming. He lies next to me and starts to read. I take a deep breath and allow myself to fall into myself.

Time is passing, but I can't tell how long or how much. It's measured in the flick of his turning pages.
I have long ceased to become a person, I am an object experiencing sensation: the press of his leg on top of me, the occasional touch, which makes me arch up into it, moaning against the gag, enjoying every tiny inch of my constriction. I keep still, for the most part, allowing myself to float in what is almost a light trance state. I am swimming deep within my own body, little actions become huge - my breath and heartbeat are both incredibly loud, the feel of the saliva gathering in my mouth, making me swallow, is an enormous action. I am making noises, little moans, part of me wants to hum, there's an almost childish pleasure in this inactivity, toying with myself I slow my breathing down, and the world slows with me. There is nothing in the universe except for us two: my mind, encased in my body, all of which belongs to him, I have no will and no worry, I exist just in this moment, and it is extraordinary. I am extraordinarily happy.

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