I'm hanging in suspension, I feel like I'm floating. The connection points are around my chest, thighs and ankles. The tight fitting leather hood blinds me and I'm disorientated by the time Captain has spun me round once or twice, unsure where my centre of gravity is, precisely, especially when my head hangs down and I feel as if I'm descending, face first into free-fall. I know that I am not, but the endless blackness in front of my eyes and the slow twirl of my body in space gives me a confused sense of motion. I'm already a little scared and shaken, left to wait for him, hooded and tied to the ring on the cross beam, whilst heavy thuds echoed around the space. I'm not used to the sounds in the new studio and everything is loud and reverberates. Metal clangs against metal. I can't work out what is going to happen and I start to worry.
He returns and fucks me, hard, grabbing at my breasts and hips, moving me around for better angles. I can do nothing but be open for him. There is a frustration in not being able to respond to him, beyond the clenching of the muscles of my cunt and later arse around his cock. I can't thrust back, can't serve him, can only hang there. There is no reciprocation, I am a channel only. A set of holes. He whispers that in my ear and the connection between his voice, his vocalisation of my predicament and the position itself is powerful. In the darkness, used, he makes me his.
After a while, he drops me down, tying me down to the foot of the bed, bent forward, legs splayed, continuing to fuck me. My hips slamming against the metal bed posts with each thrust have given me two matching bruises this morning. I moan and try to reach out towards him, instinctively, but my movements are limited. He stops, abruptly and pulls out to slap my cunt with an open palm, I yelp. It's a blunt, exposed pain, revealing my vulnerability in more ways than one, there's also the shock value of going from the deep, submissive pleasure of being fucked to being hurt in the same place. He keeps hitting me and the waves of pain make me buck, growl and rise up, in a panic to escape, lifting the edge of the bed with me until he pushes me back down, returning to fuck me. I move between trying to take the pain and trying to fight it as I work my way through the feelings. Neither makes any difference to what he is doing and he continues alternating in this fashion, using my cunt however he likes until, eventually, he stops and unties me, dropping me to the floor and unpeeling the panel from my mouth so I can suck his cock.
The hood laced around my face has no nose holes. I can't breath. The air that I manage to get is re-circulated, inflating the hood as I do so, getting less and less oxygenated with each cycle. I can feel myself starting to get light headed, but I don't want to stop, to pull away from him so I force myself to continue, lungs burning, fingers scratching against my thighs in diversionary tactics - sharp pain and adrenaline bursts to try and keep me going. Eventually I have to stop, pulling away in a huge gasp like a swimmer breaking the waterline. I get a couple of pained breaths and then he presses back against me.
The guilt at having to pause shames me, makes me wish I could have done more, held on for longer. I dread that moment of failure, that point where his pleasure is interrupted because of the weakness of my body. Yet at the same time it is also forms part of the bedrock of my submission: I like being pushed, tested and for that you need to go to the edges of where you can go and further. I submit to something difficult, something hard, perhaps even too hard which that means that I will eventually fail. This failure makes me initially feel small, inferior and I have to build myself up to try again, to do better and face harder challenges. Submission makes me stronger.
Like this. Later on. I'm stood on my tip toes. Teetering on the edges of them, actually, about as far as I can manage. And it's not quite far enough. Every little stumble, twitch of calf or attempt to readjust my weight causes me pain because there's a rope looped between my legs and into the hoop above, forcing me to stand like this. The rope is tight against my cunt which is already sore and wet from earlier and my arms are tied behind my back, around the elbows. I'm still in the hood, and he's bid me good night. I hear the rustling of a duvet and wish I was lying there, wrapped around him, instead of in my own little, twisting dance of discomfort. Predicament bondage lets you make your own pain, within the limits of rope you have been given. I can choose to ease off on my legs and send shooting arrows of hot pain through my cunt, or hoist myself as high as I can go and let my limbs take the strain, muscles tensing as I take little steps this way and that. At first, I try to keep still, to stand as tall as possible and reduce the pain that way, doing my best to be "good" which in this case I've inferred means being quiet. After all, he may be really trying to sleep. Though I hope not. Neither way works. My legs start to throb and the effort of moving from one painful position to the other is tiring and does not help me. The more I move, the harder it is to return to a different position. Parts of me are wearing out. I whimper. A sudden noise in the emptiness, a little groan attempting to attract attention. Making noise is also soothing, it allows me to express and relieve (in a certain sense) the pain I'm feeling, which isn't precisely pain at all by this point. It is discomfort. I am not comfortable. I am, however, very sore and with no way of not being sore or knowing when I will be released. Eventually, I go quiet again, my torso hanging limply on top of hard, aching legs, which twitch and grumble their displeasure. My cunt is getting numb and I can press more and more weight into it, lowering my slumping self nearer the ground.
When he unties me, I fall against him with relief. In silence, barring a whispered "thank-you" that probably doesn't express the extent of my gratitude through my weariness. I just wrap my arms around him and let him untangle me and put me to bed. Lost for words.
Inescapable extended captivity in rope bondage
1 month ago