Secrets of the Women's Self-Bondage Cult (8 page)

       "I think you've helped me a lot," I said. "But what's the ring for?"

       "The ring leaves the asshole clear for the fucker's use as he sees fit, using his own dick or a dildo."

       "Oh."

       "You get it?"

       "Yeah, I think so. I have played with something like that on myself with two dildoes and it can be fun, for sure."

       "I imagine so. Ever heard of ball stretchers?"

       "No."

       "Well there are all kinds, but the objective is to pull the balls down in their sack. It can be extremely stimulating and if done wrong, it hurts like Hell."

       "Like alligator clips on the clit, I suppose."

       "Right. I expect that's similar, although I have no first hand knowledge about that."

       "Nick, this has been a great help to me. I really enjoyed the conversation," I said.

       "Really?"

       "Yes. It's like all of a sudden you kind of unearthed some latent things that were there in my head. I can now see that my SB activities can be very much gender-based. I need to try this out. Thanks."

       From that conversation, a number of things emerged. First, I had to consider that Nick was not a professional psychoanalyst and that his information might be totally wrong. Second, he planted a seed that, over time, seemed to germinate in my head when I was tied up and using some kind of sex toy to bring myself along to orgasm. Third, I found that having normal sex with a man was perhaps better than before if I did some early discussion about BDSM and SB before we even got into bed. I found that many men in my age and social group were interested and a bit shocked that a woman they barely knew would ask them if they had interest in S&M and the related areas. In half of the cases, the guys were all for it and the rest were cautious to the point where they didn't want to hurt me or to give up the male dominance thing and allow me to tie them. In the cases where we went on to experiment in bed, I often recalled the film I saw more than once in which the sexy young woman takes a man home and handcuffs him to the bed. When he tells her he's never done this before she replies: "Don't worry, I have."

       All of this helped me with my own SB direction. Without these candid opportunities, I doubt I'd be as happy as I am now with the entire concept of SB.

Chapter Five

This chapter perhaps logically follows the previous one.

While there is more and more exposure to the lives of male Transvestites, little is known about women who have the same desires. Paula talks about the element of gender-switching while in SB and how it affects her fantasies.

Paula - Female TV in bondage

       It has always seemed to me that the sexual nuances of tying myself up are based in some unknowable formula that changes with time and location. For me, the most essential element in all of this is having a fertile imagination. Whatever the reality at the time might be, lying on a bed or hanging suspended while tied and gagged can be the transport medium for an entirely different scenario…in your mind.

       While I know that it is quite common for men and women to fantasize about someone else in their personal masturbatory activities, I have always found it difficult to insert a known individual in the place where my head and body are going when I begin such a venture. I realize that is a confusing statement.

       Putting this a slightly different way, it has always seemed to me that imagining a totally fictitious person works better than thinking about a real one. I have no idea why, but as I am securing the ropes around my ankles and wrists, I am not imagining that I am a person I know. Rather, in this game, I create in my mind some hybrid character, much like a writer creates the characters in a novel. For me, because I am a very private woman, inevitably, I often envision myself as a man who is being involuntarily forced into womanhood by evil and dangerous male or female parties who will tie her up and sexually abuse her as long as she, (or I), can endure or have time for.

       So, in my fantasy self-bondage world, the gender element plays a critical role. Being bound as me seems, at times, worthless and unstimulating. However, being bound as an imaginary male, with an imaginary male or female doing the binding is far more rewarding. This may seem strange if you are not inclined to fantasize during sex or if self-bondage is foreign to you. It may also seem odd to anyone who has gone down the same sexual road for so long that anything different in their sex life is unacceptable. Yet, there is enough evidence, I think, to support the position that gender-shifting and self-bondage often go hand in hand. Purely masochistic self-bondage of course, has its own place in the scene, but for me at least, I want and enjoy the mix of gender switching and bondage. To take this one step further into the seldom-mentioned areas of auto-eroticism, it's accurate to say that being dressed as a man, tightly tied or chained, gagged and blindfolded is, for me at least, the best and most satisfying way to have an orgasm.

       For those who cannot comprehend how this works, consider the analogy of sexual partners or individuals who habitually masturbate while visualizing another person as their partner. This may be the best example of how this works. The gender-switching, self-bondager switches mentally into the body of a male being bound and tormented while the conventional individual fantasizes having sex with someone else of the same or opposite gender. In both cases, an imaginary character plays a distinct role in reaching climax. Adding the restraint simply enhances and intensifies the experience. I often visualize that I am an attractive young man who is being systematically tormented and raped by a merciless woman.

       Not making any excuses for my SB, I must add here that from everything I have read and discovered about this, it is a far more common practice than anyone would imagine. I do not know the psychology behind it and if I did I probably wouldn't understand it, but even going back decades to much of writer John Willie's material and his publication,
Bizarre
; the connection between male TV's and self-bondage is very common and prevalent in erotic literature. He seldom dealt with females impersonating men, but I suspect that subject was often just in the background somewhere.       Years after Willie,
Victor Victoria
, a film about a woman impersonating a man who was a female impersonator, set down some previously untouched aspects of this kind of sexual fascination. So, the idea that a woman can and will have singular sex while fantasizing that she is a man is not so strange.

       So, how does this work for me? When the question was first asked, I was pretty sure that I didn't want to elaborate orally or in writing, but as this event progressed, I found that I had a great deal in common with a lot of people and that sharing the experience, if only in writing, was useful and enlightening. For lesbians, dressing as a man is often very exciting in itself. Anyone who tries to tell you that it is NOT a sexual experience may be ignoring the truth, but whatever. I get excited just putting on the male clothing I will wear. My sessions, if I have enough time, tend to run about an hour, more or less. I put on a jock strap with a moderate-sized silicon package in it, a pair of rugged work boots and athletic socks, men's jeans, work gloves, a breast binder to reduce and mostly hide my breasts and a rough wool work shirt. I often pull on a woolen watch cap to hide my hair. This is, as silly as it sounds here; all very important to the plan I have in mind.

       I do not, as a rule, wear any female clothing as it tends to detract from the feeling I want to create. I have also acquired a good collection of male gear. I have a full set of fire-fighter apparel, begged or bought at considerable expense. I have a pilot's flight suit, and, less unusual, a man's black tie tuxedo which I do wear from time to time and get compliments galore about. I own perhaps five too many men's Speedo swim suits. Still, I must restate that I am not, as far as I know, a lesbian or bisexual. Perhaps this is just denial, but I deeply crave and appreciate a man's presence and affection. Nevertheless, for SB, the switch seems essential.

       As I get ready for the SB session, I am doing a lot of planning in my head. The plan will determine if I get further dressed or bind myself in just the jock strap and T shirt. Either way, it is going to work for me, so it is just a matter of what I feel like at the time. Once I am dressed, the actual bondage comes into play. I may imagine that I am now the man in the clothes I am wearing and that my sexual equipment is actually male. While I cannot emulate having a real cock and balls, I can apply a variety of torments to my own equipment, imagining that it is a man's sex. Thus, the pair of rings through my labia and another through my clit become, in my mind, a steel band around my cock and balls. A leash hooked to my clit ring becomes a leash connected to my cock ring and has the same imaginary impact.

       I realize that this is very deep psychological material. It will make no sense to anyone who isn't on the same track and there is probably a long list of the neuroses that this may be symptomatic of, but I can only say that it works for me and has worked for the years I have been doing it.

       Getting back to the scene. I will be perhaps tied to a bedpost or overhead hook, with my arms raised over my head, more rope around my legs and ankles and cruelly gagged. Then perhaps after a few minutes, if I have any clothes on at all, I am slowly stripped of everything but the jock. The breast binder is gone, replaced by a few yards of rope wound around my upper body, leaving me in jock strap, work boots and socks only. I am brutally tormented by my captor, usually a sexy construction worker, a prison cellmate or woman vampire who hates my guts and wants to see me suffer and scream. If it’s the man, he looks strangely like my office manager. He may whip me or run his hard hands over my back, my ass or between my legs. Whatever is going on, I stand tied firmly to the post, unable to do anything about it.

       Why is it usually a man who does this to me? I don't know, but the image is sometimes better than if it’s a woman, so I go with what works. Often, there are women involved in this plot, submissively doing the bidding of the evil master. They tease, whip and fuck my ass in no particular order. I remain tied to the post. At some point, the gender element gets a bit confused. They wrap more rope around my torso, push my breasts to either side of the post and then tie them very tightly, pulling each boob around the rough wooden post. This stretches the tender tissue as far as it will go. Then they loop fishing line around each nipple and tie them off, pulling them within an inch of each other while I scream and struggle, knowing that this turns them on even more. Their intent is to bury my tits in a blanket of rough rope and I can do this to the point where there is only a small rope mound where my breasts once were. The gender issue is solved and the scenario goes back to them screwing me up the ass until I come or they get tired.

       The size and depth of the thing they use on my ass varies. I have enough of these toys so that I can be ass-fucked with anything from a static rubber butt plug to a three-way vibrator that rumbles in my ass and cunt at the same time as it is tickling my clit. In the most ornate scenario, the butt fucker is mounted on a short stand behind me. As I struggle, the huge rubber prick moves in and out of my ass. For me, this is a prime event. I am a man being raped by vicious parties unknown. Afterwards, I can do nothing except fall into bed and sleep the sleep of the stunned, the tormented, and the satisfied.

Chapter Six

Meg has a long personal history of recording her SB activities,

 if only for her own enjoyment.

She also details her use of an AFM, an automatic fucking machine.

Meg - Photo Session

       Back only a few years ago, before social networking exposed nearly everyone's personal life, privacy was an important ingredient in the lives of most adults. Then suddenly, in only a few years, it became fashionable to tell everyone, even people you didn't know at all, everything about your life and yourself. To me it is the ultimate privacy invasion, but apparently, this is what people seem to need. In any case, I have not indulged in networking and remain uninterested in sharing my life or my activities with the rest of the world. Being here for this event is a first for me, but so far, it’s been interesting and useful, as well as fun.

       It may sound contradictory to say that I have recorded my SB activities for many years. I have a few Polaroid photos of me in various situations, tied and chained, clothed and nude. I have also made some personal videos of the same, often starting with my planning and going right through the final crashing orgasm and mindless thrashing in bondage. The technique I use is nothing special. I set up the tripod and camera, run a few tests to make sure the focus and lighting are correct, then start the tape and get into the scene. I often will add some music background, but that is not necessary. Afterwards, some editing is usually necessary and this allows me to include the general session without showing my face or anything else that is esoteric. The result is an unprofessional set of photos or a short video. Since I have only one camera, I must move to show the various bondage set-ups and this certainly demonstrates the inadequacy of such an arrangement, especially since we are all so accustomed to watching finished video which has thousands of different shots and scenes, multiple cameras and professional lighting and production. Stills seem to be the best because they capture a moment that I can better control and throw out what doesn't work. Back when I started this, I used Polaroid Spectrum cameras. They worked well, but needed a flash bulb strip. I had to build my own delay timers and these were pretty primitive. At times, I "stacked" multiple timers to get a longer delay. I tied a string to the first timer and pulled the string with a bound hand when I was ready to start the photo sequence. Over time, this system produced some reasonable photos that I still have. Then, Polaroid offered something that self-bondagers had wanted for a long time: a remote auto release. This gadget was very slick. It had one unit that attached the camera and a wireless remote that you could hold in your hand and trigger when you wanted. The camera held seven or eight photos and you could fire them off one at a time and get a good sequence. It was expensive, but lots of fun. I used this system for many years until Polaroid went belly up and the cost of the film skyrocketed. The coming of digital cameras settled this whole thing and allowed anyone to make their own photos for very little money. The one drawback from digital was that initially there was no remote control that allowed you to take multiple shots. Now, Nikon offers an Infrared remote that works well, but you must, of course, align the remote with the camera's sensor, since it is a line of sight device. Still, quality and cost are much lower than the old Polaroids and your results are instantly available to view.