Putting the rope to use

The hours spent immobile as a model at Shibari school has given me knowledge on how to tie a simple chest harness and I was keen to try it out. My sub billy was the obvious choice for a guinea pig so when he begged for a meeting between us I graciously set a time. In to my bag went a few lengths of black cotton rope, a flogger and a strap and just for fun I added some chopsticks and two hair bands.

It has been several weeks since we last met and we were both desperate to smell and touch each other. As I stood over his kneeling figure his face fitted close into my belly and the re-bonding took place. I slid my cool hands over his shoulders and relished the contrast in our temperatures. Stepping around to view him I traced a track over his body with my nails. There would be plenty of opportunity to spank him later when he was firmly bound.

First I put a blindfold on him, I wanted to delay the moment of recognition of my intention. I took the first rope and shook it out. Standing behind him I reached for his wrists and drew them back. I believe it gave him a slight shock to have his arms positioned and then feel the rope winding around. Remembering the importance of drawing the rope across the body with intent I wound it twice around him beginning the two rope takate koti. The second rope was added and I continued until he had a secure harness around him.

He looked fantastic.

Now he was vulnerable and I was at liberty to play with him. I began with the chopsticks. Laying them along his cock they were secured with the two hair bands. This made his cock a rigid structure rather like a gear stick so I took hold and moved it around. Lifting it higher I realized his balls needed decoration and looked about for some pegs. Finding them a few were placed on his scrotum and they added to my pleasure.

Billy was told to bend over and his bottom was pushed out for a spanking. At this point the harness became useful, I took a firm hold on it and billy was braced for a good long spanking. I began with my hands and made billy squawk as they stung down on his cheeks. But I was only warming them before taking the strap and applying it with gusto. I loved the sound of the thwack it made each time it landed and being fully aware of how much bite it gives gained much joy from swinging it. I didn't forget his decorated cock and balls, they got flicks from my fingers from time to time.

When the spanking stopped I was as warm as billy so he received the welcome news that he would be rewarded. He was repositioned and I took a Queenly place at his head. Following instruction his tongue was gentle on my pussy until the heat in me boiled over and he was told to move faster and harder. I ground against him and then fell back replete with bliss.

The play continued with a prostate massager. As it slid into his ass his groans of pleasure began. They are so different to any other sound he makes. As it became clear that he was close to orgasm I took away the pegs and chopsticks so my hand could slide easily over his cock and balls. Telling him I wanted so see how far he would spurt I told him to cum. His body tensed and then shook as the white stuff flowed.

Removing the rope slowly gave him time to recover. Until at last he was free with just the imprint of the rope remaining on his arms.

Tied up I - Yokozuri

Ever since I saw my first photo of a woman in bondage suspended from a ceiling it has been a strong craving of mine. So when I overheard a Domina talking about the wonders of a workshop taken by Osada Steve I drew closer to listen. Then, and when ever after we met, I offered myself as a practice model. One time she took me seriously and gave me a date and time to join her at Shibari school.

Subsequently it came to pass that my desire was met. The Domina placed me into a Yokozuri, a sideways suspension. What a surprise it held for me. For the first time in my life I have felt my own weight as it pressed hard against suspending ropes. My head felt heavy and I struggled to support it.

She gently moved me and it felt as though I was cradled. Peace suffused me and only the difficulties of the position kept me from sleeping.

We both enjoyed the moment and then I was carefully released, school moved on to another binding.

Prussian pink

The Prussian was the first man I encountered who gained lots of pleasure from nipple torture...on himself. He had nipples which I have since come to recognize as signifying this desire. They were prominent but thin like a skin tag. Nothing like a woman's nipples. When I asked if he regularly clamped or pegged them he admitted that he did.

Clearly I was there to add to his pleasure by taking the control. As I added the pegs one by one to his nipples and the chest around them his eyes took on that special look that comes as a sub surrenders to the pain and sinks into it. I marveled at it, so different to my own experience with pegs.

Remembering how it had felt lying on the pegs I told him to get on the bed and lay face down. I pressed my hands on his back and then slid them down to his buttocks. I was tentative about spanking him but the urge was irresistible. Gradually I increased the force until it was my hand that needed the break. I looked at the ruler and reached for it.

Just as he had done I used the ruler on his thighs making them sting and creating little square red patches. It was more effective on the firm muscles of his thighs than on the softer, squishy butt cheeks. From time to time I would reach up and rub his back and I couldn't help chuckling as I thought of all those pegs.

It was a very simple scene. There was no sexual element although perhaps he masturbated once I left. There though I began the transformation from submissive to switch. Seeing within myself a woman who could glory in the writhing of an enthralled male.

Pegs and how the dark side was revealed in me

Clothes pegs are my BDSM curse. I don't like them. As a Domme I struggle to attach them, grabbing vainly at nipples and ball sacks. It's my nails that cause the problem. They are too long and blunt to manipulate the skin accurately. I certainly understand why some dominant women have long nails on one hand and short on the other but I am too vain to change the situation for myself.

Those few times a dominant male has applied them to my flesh have revealed a pitiful creature desperately calling out for them to be removed and the gentlemen amongst them have quickly consented.

But one who was a switch, and perhaps not a gentleman, did not.

He lured me with talk of shoes. We discussed styles and heel height and how much he enjoyed them. A sucker for shoes and proud of my collection I soon agreed to meet him. Then he introduced a twist alerting me to his taste for pain play. "Let me play with you for an hour and then we can swap" he wrote. I pointed out that I had never been in the dominant position and didn't have any desire to inflict pain. "I can help you with that, give you some direction". With Prussian precision he argued me into yielding.

Pegs, chain and a ruler, they sit innocuously in a suitcase waiting for use. A vibrator too, small and plain and easily overlooked. I learned about each as he brought them into play.

Once the niceties were disposed of, polite conversation, drinks and nibbles, he was quick to begin the torture. Off came my top and bra and on went the first pegs. How hard can a peg on each nipple be? They weren't coming off. Telling me I was made of sterner stuff and more than capable of bearing the pain he bent me over a footstool and lifted my skirt.

The ruler was a surprise. It flashed onto the top of my thigh and bit. It's a nasty little implement. Lots of small bites of pain placed randomly. It does no real harm but like a paper cut it irritates and annoys. I can't wriggle from the ruler as I have to minimize the pressure on the pegs, all the time they are burning into my nipples.

"I might stop if you ask nicely" I am told. So I ask nicely and beg for the pegs to be removed. Excellent, he tells me to sit up and pulls them off. That transient return of intense sensation only indicates relief to me.

The nipples rings please him and they featured in his next stage of play. A short length of chain, enough to link them tightly is attached with the remainder swinging onto my belly. He pulls and I follow until I am standing and breathing hard again. In his hand the vibrator is activated and applied to the chain between my nipples. I almost collapse as the vibration travels deep into my breasts and sensation flourishes. This is a feeling I will want to revisit.

Unlike the next which achieved his aim of activating my sadistic side.

He pulled me by the chain into the walk-in closet until I was positioned under a rail. Unclipping one end of the chain he passed it over the rail and back into position on the nipple. Standing on my toes was the only way to reduce the tension. My hands were placed behind my back "keep them there" he said and walked back into the room. So I teetered on the ultra high heels and worried about his return, I was right to.

A handful of pegs.

The pleading began before he had even placed one.

To no avail.

"Part your legs"

He had to be stern before I complied.

One by one pegs were attached to my labia. I believe there were tears. They bit and burned and in me a red mist grew. He wasn't heeding my cries for relief and as I looked at his impassive face there was the genesis of an urge to see features of pain reflected back to me.


It was time to switch.

Taking the cane

I have always felt the pull of the cane. Perhaps it was initiated by those naughty school girls in the books I voraciously read. For I certainly felt annoyance at primary school that only the bad boys got called into the headteachers room for six of the best. I was left to imagine how it felt when that slender length of cane collided with tender flesh to leave a livid mark.

I bought my first cane a year ago, pink lexan which is heavy in my hand. Then more recently I bought a traditional school teachers cane. I have plied both against the bottom of marty who valiantly tolerated the strokes of a novice. Neither gave me much pleasure. I found the solid nature of the stroke falling heavy on the buttocks curbed my enthusiasm. Feeling sure that I was missing something in my application of the cane I decided it was important for me to submit to it with a mentor.

I reached out to one whom I admired and made a tentative inquiry. Then in time we met with thoughts of dominance and submission in both our minds.

It began gently in a quiet room. As the door closed behind us he took control. His hand on the nape of my neck sent me down into a submissive space, he tested my response to him and then sat to put me across his knee. My skirt was lifted and the first few spanks fell on my panty clad bottom. I relaxed as they fell with a rhythm and balance that was mesmerizing.

The pantys were removed with some wriggling and a degree of discomposure. The spanking resumed with his smooth hands bringing increasing heat to my bare bottom. He continued until we were both hot and my place under his hand established.

Maybe he had concerns that I would attempt to evade his carefully positioned strokes of the cane for he took my hands and secured them with steel. I was positioned just how he liked, trembling pink flesh waiting for further assault.

He teased me with my favourite spanking tool, slowly drawing the belt from his waist before applying it to my bottom. Clearly he used it to make my bottom redder and hotter but it began the slow burn of arousal in my pussy. I was happy, feeling my clit grow as each blow from the belt made my nerves hyper-stimulate.

The belt was replaced, those few minutes as it was threaded back through the loops gave me space to focus back on the cane. It was time.

It landed with a thud, as solid from my receiving end as it had felt when I wielded it. Six, twelve, eighteen. I wasn't counting but he liked to spell them in neat packages. You would not believe it but my clit grew harder and a wet patch began to spread down my legs. The sustained caning drew blue words from me until at last I pleaded for a break, not an end. He felt the heat of my bottom and the wetness flowing and then whispered kind words in my ear.

The caning that followed was in blocks of six. At the start of each I felt certain I could breathe through the pain but when the fifth and six fell I was desperate for salvation. Each break got longer as the sting refused to diffuse and until it did I could not regain my equanimity.

I was mortified by the degree of arousal I was revealing, the caning had not caused any diminution. Instead I was orgasmic as each stoke of the cane pressed my clit hard against the bed taking me to a place of conflict - choosing pain to achieve pleasure.

The caning ceased. As he whispered his pleasure in my ears I turned and kissed him. I was truly thankful for his strict discipline and overwhelmed with joy.

Tip toes on top

I recently bought a pair of high heel boots which are proving to be very popular. They are black knee high boots with a lacing detail up the front. They give me enjoyment for two reasons...they were on sale at a very low price and they are very easy to wear permitting hours of use. It was this feature that led me to wear them to the the last club night.

I arrived and feeling a little antisocial chose to sit in an unoccupied room. It was not long before I was joined by a jovial man seeking understanding for my isolation. Conversation flowed and eventually he disclosed how attracted he was to my boots. He offered a deal - to polish my boots if I would trample upon him. I was delighted and agreed to find him later in the night so that we might indulge ourselves.

Time lapsed and the people around me fluctuated until I felt it was time to seek him out. In a small antechamber I found him and his eyes lit up. In truth he probably would have polished my boots without needing to be trampled but it was my desire to do it. I lusted to be in the position of standing over a man and teasing him with my boots.

We crossed the room to a mattress he laid upon beneath a structure that could support me. I reached up and grabbed hold and then stepped on to his belly. I looked down on him, two bright eyes and a brilliant smile shone from both our faces. "How do this go?" I asked him "just walk on me" his less than useful reply. I took steps up his torso and then down to his own feet. Up his body I went again and began to move with the pulsating music flowing around us. Perhaps it is not wise to ask a dancer to trample upon you.

Knowing how much he desired my boots I let my foot fall on his mouth and as he kissed the leather I slid it around his face. I could have stroked his cheeks with my boots endlessly. But the music continued to thrill me and my feet began to dance back up his body. It was a shame that it was not a lap dancing club, I wanted to grind down upon him and thrust my pussy in to his face. Instead my heels did the grinding into plump flesh until the heat in me became too great and I jumped away from him to claim his boot blacking expertise.

Introducing aldo

I appear to have gained another submissive man keen to suffer under my hands.

As his hands slid over my body, shining my latex dress in the dim light of the fetish club and tantalizing him, he pleaded for another opportunity to play with me. When I deferred he suggested we meet at a local dungeon and as I was keen to try the facilities I agreed.

May I say that playing in a dungeon is an excellent way to pass a cold, wet windy afternoon.

We entered a dark cell that was heated like a sauna. That was going to be fun for the sub (I think I will call him Aldo) as he had dressed in his rubber gear. I had not choosing to wear a short leather skirt and t-shirt instead. My boots were classic Domme boots, high black leather and laced up the front. They pushed his buttons as his eyes would constantly swivel to look at them.

The room had a wall from which all the implements were suspended, crops, floggers, canes, restraints, chains, a rather enticing spiked cock cage and plenty of other things to draw my attention. Centered in the room was a padded table that could be used for restraint and indeed it was but first it was used for seating.

We sat side by side to establish boundaries. With my feet swinging to and fro it was hard for aldo to concentrate and he rapidly reached a state of arousal that was to remain unrequited.

I jumped down from the table and strolled over to the wall. The wrist restraints had caught my eye. I lifted them from the hooks and took them back to aldo. He didn't need to be told to hold out his hands. The cuffs were quickly wrapped around and buckled. I lifted each arm in turn and fixed him to a bar that swung above his head.

I had been impressed by the feel of his icy cold hands through my latex dress and wanted to return the favor. Now he was captive I left him in place and stepped away to cool a washcloth under the cold tap.

The washcloth was draped across his shoulders and he shivered. His flinching followed the movement of the cloth as it traced over the rubber. Slowly I innervated his entire body. Even though he shivered and shook I could see the sparkle in his eyes and hear the low moans of pleasure.

It was time for me to stop and step aside for a few moments. I let the feelings in aldo work their magic whilst considering my next move.

Aldo's rubber pants had cut outs for his butt cheeks. I could see them squashed under his weight as he sat and they clearly asked for a spanking. Why else would anyone wear such an article of clothing?

His wrists were let down and I instructed him to hop off the table and bend over it for a spanking. It was the perfect height for a man, positioning him nicely before me. I began to warm his cheeks with gentle smacks spreading over them. I stopped and ran my hands up and down the rubber on his legs then began the spanking again with a slightly harder pressure.

The next time I stopped I bent around him to pull away the rubber and check on the state of his cock, the only time he got to feel my fingers on him. Precum was oozing and sticking his cock to the rubber.

Back behind him the spanking continued with much greater force. I discovered the pleasure of landing my hand on rubber. I've no idea what it felt like for him but it was sensational for me and so I tended to cover the rubber rather than his bare flesh.

I stopped again and walked around the table. I could see it had rings along its length and that suggested a change in position for aldo. I told him to lay along the table and once he was where I wanted him his wrists were fixed into position.

Now I was at leisure to really view the tools strung from the wall. The canes were very appealing, only short they would have been perfect for me to swing against him but not this time. I picked first what I think was a quirt, a short leather thing that I wanted to test. It fell well onto his bottom and I controlled each stroke for six of the best on each cheek. I swapped to another leather thing but it felt all wrong when I brought it down onto his flesh and I stopped after only a few strokes. I had to look very closely to find the crop, knowing that there had to be one I persevered until it was found and then set upon aldo. This made him complain so was entirely satisfactory.


I could see that our time was running out and after the indulgence of his body I needed to get closer. I pushed a step against the table legs and using it climbed up to lie along the length of aldo's body. The walls had mirrors on them and as I relaxed I was aware that aldo was viewing me as well as feeling me. So once more I moved my feet to taunt him in his prostate state until the call came to tell us time was up.


I do believe this was my first doming session which didn't involve genital play. Aldo would have had to wait a significant time to replay the afternoon in his mind and find release. While I was filled with contentment.