Without trust we have nothing – bondage goes wrong

Daisy loves being tied up and restrained. It ticks a lot of boxes for her. But Daisy has always done bondage with partners that she has known, loved and trusted.  As much as she loves Mr Unavailable, what happens on that Thursday night is as much her fault as his. She knows that and she takes responsibility for that… He had wanted to see her toy bag, so that he could see the restraints, the new, under bed restraints. But her toy collection, It’s not what it once was. In America, Daisy had a big brown leather chest, aged either by life or by artists, big and heavy, with sturdy buckles on the outside and then in the inside, all those compartments on a tiered level system not dissimilar from what you find in tool boxes. A bit that lifted out and then all those drawers, and then the pockets that you could either zip closed or stud close with a pop stud that had a satisfying click. It had been a beautifully handcrafted chest of pleasure and she misses it still.
Now, her small limited collection of extra curriculum entertainment is stored in what she assumes was once an exes smart toiletry bag. A double layered black nylon bag, a mixture of the extreme lower level items she played within the heydays of cocaine and booze and would now rather ignore, and then on the top level are the general accumulation of new items and a few old favourites. There are the purple anal beads, one with a vibrating bullet that she needs new batteries for. The smaller, more refined black anal beads, antiques really, now the designs are far sexier with twiddly bits at the end to stop over insertion. Then there are the new soft black nylon ropes she suspects come from China, and the recently acquired nipple clamps (because she always used to lose ‘just one’).
“Ah, so this is them! (He is looking at the nipple clamps) What I thought was…”
“An anal hook.” She finishes his sentence for him.
“Ah yes!” he says grinning.
“And one day we will get you one.”
“No.” She says it sharply, maybe more sharply then she meant to.
“Yes we will” he replies, and she knows she must hit this one on the head.
“No. I’ve seen how that works, what it does. No thank you, that’s not for me.”
“No, what we do is we put it in and then we attach the rope and then you won’t be able to move.”
Daisy didn’t need this explained she’s already done her research and made her decision and although, yes, I changed she changed her mind about the anal sex, there is a line and she is not crossing… it yet.
His expression is indistinguishable, but I think it’s the look of someone, confident, cocky, and who expected to be obeyed. She had said she wanted to be dominated. To be tied up and restrained. What she clearly forgot was to mention that there are rules, rules that she is only remembering now, that are vital if bondage is to work, and is to be safe. Be sexy. Daisy is beginning to think she may have gone down a wrong path, and it’s all seems to be going in the wrong direction.

This list of ten rules is summarized from the book “Screw the Roses. Send Me the Thorns”, written by Phillip Miller and Molly Devon.

Copyright to the authors, all rights reserved.

1: Be skilled at every bondage you undertake risk is unavoidable, however basic the bondage.
Keep this in mind when you do your scenes
2: Anticipate obvious hazards.
The unforeseen happens all the time in bondage scenes, from beds breaking to neighbours calling, kids interrupting, etc
3: Learn basic pulse sites of the body and always fit bondage snugly, not tightly, until you have more experience.
(He demonstrated no awareness of these.)
Never cross pulse points with direct pressure from ropes.
(He did.)
Pulse points are located on the wrists, inner-upper thigh and throat.
4: Ropes, etc., should mostly be snug not tight.
(They were tight.)
Make sure you can easily slip a finger under the ropes, chains or scarves you are using.
(You couldn’t.)
If your bondage is too easily escapable change or alters your technique rather than making it tighter.
Most times a few extra twists can resolve any weakness without making things uncomfortable or risky.
5: Determine how long each bondage can be endured and watch the clock. Begin testing new bondages for around 10 to 15 minutes at a time before working up to longer periods
6: Submissives – never let anyone you do not know or trust tie you up.
(How well do I actually know him? I’ve fallen in love with who he has projected himself to be and want, but really do I have any idea?)
You are literally placing your life in their hands. As with any S&M process, negotiate the scenes beforehand,
(We didn’t.)
Negotiate which bondages will take place and clearly outline both submissive and Dominant limits.
(Again, we didn’t.)
7: Agree upon, and practice, a “safeword” before you begin.
(Oh dear…)
8: Never use a chain or rope around the front of a submissive’s throat and avoid this area and avoid placing pressure on this area during play.
(Oh I forgot to mention the asphyxiation turn on earlier…)
9: Keep a heavy pair of scissors handy to cut your submissive’s bonds should anything go wrong.
(I don’t think nail scissors count.)
10: Always keep watch over a bound submissive, check constantly for numbness, discolouration and cold skin in case, and as, circulation deteriorates.
(Would he? I wonder.)

There are two types of wrist cuffs, one in a softer fabric and one in hard leather, but she has her eye on some luxury ones on Etsy so these are just for the interim. There is the largest of the anal plugs, as the rest is in her drawer waiting for the right moment. A small soft paddle with leather on one side and fur on the other, and a few odd bits, but nothing to write home about.
She is embarrassed by it now, in front of him. After so much talk of kink, she feels it lets her down and although when he asks about the spreader bar she gets that out to show him too, he laughs at how it isn’t very big, and that really to get her fully spread you would need a wider one. At this point, she decides that as he hasn’t brought anything he might as well consider contributing in the future.
“The one I think would be better is longer and more expensive. I’ll send you a link to it.”
He looks a little surprised and then laughs. She gets the distinct impression he doesn’t get back chat much.
“Let’s play!” he says and places the suspender bar between her legs and clips the cuffs around her ankles. The feel of the leather around her ankles is smooth and the feeling of herself secured is not unpleasant. She likes the idea of him having her spread open. She hopes he will go down on her and he does. Seeing his head between her thighs, feeling his tongue exploring her, nibbling on her clitoris…
He reaches for the ropes. Hang on…
It’s been years since she was tied up, and then she loved it, well every time except once. The inability to move as she was subjected to pleasure was unusual and yet exciting, but here? Now? So soon after everything that has happened, something inside her twitches nervously. This is happening too fast.
He pulls her hand gently towards the bar and starts to attach her wrist to the far end. The first knot is careful, and although she is no bondage expert it looks like a quick release one. It’s tight. Tighter than she is used to but surely he knows what he is doing. On the second one, he is getting bored and wants to get back to the bag and she can see that in the way he twists the cord quickly into place. Suddenly, she isn’t so sure how much he knows about this. Very quickly she is becoming uneasy.
“Look, just one thing. Me, like this? Please, no trying to deep throat me. Not like this.”
“Why?” and he honestly looks surprised, interested and she is even more on edge now.
“Well, because at this angle, I would choke. I wouldn’t be able to get you all in and control it. It gets dangerous.”
He laughs and her blood turns to ice.
“Isn’t that the point?”
What the fuck.
The reality of her situation. Being tied up here, with no ability to run, or move hits her like a brick wall, and she begins to feel her anxiety. If she had been beginning to get turned on. That is over. Now she is actually a little scared.
Each of the bag contents is wrapped in a ziplock bag, and one by one, without much care or attention he takes out what he wants to play with. She is reminded of children, how when they see toys become excited and start to play. It is now she realises she should have labelled them. One item, a giant vibrating butt plug on the lower level he looks at with awe.
“Have you?”
“God no! That’s a long way off yet.”
He fingers the black plastic and then, in one almost feels an unguarded moment of honesty measures the width with his long sexy fingers. It’s big. Very big.
“You see this?” he says, in a far off voice, almost as though he is talking to himself, while he gestures at the toy.
“There was a black guy when I was 18, one of the first men I was with, or..” and he hesitates, and utters a little laugh.
“I tried to be with! He was this wide, and this (gestures with both hands to show length), this wide. I tried, I tried to take him but he was just too big for me.”
It’s a rare moment of him being the man she thinks he might be. A boy, who has done adult acts, and had adult pleasure and yet still is slightly lost. For a moment she isn’t so scared, because he is human, he isn’t perfect and he is honestly being him.
“I’m really kinky.”
He looks secretive and pleased with himself for admitting this.
“You didn’t know me long enough to find out before.”
She doesn’t know if he remembers back to when they first met, and he had actually told her he was really vanilla, but she is beginning to get the distinct impression a lot of what this boy projects into the world, is not the real him.
No, thanks Daisy. I didn’t know you at all. I don’t know that I actually know you now, and look where we are.
“What about your vibrator collection? You sent a picture of quite a selection. Where are they?”
In her mind, she had pictured her proudly revealing her ‘Box of Pleasure’ and showing him one by one the different vibrators, and wands. Then in her fantasy of how this all might go, he had tied her up and then slowly and sensitively seduced her. Working his way from her the tips of her ears, down to her toes, kisses, and strokes and all the nice sexy things a lover who wants to arouse you does. Restrained as she is now and totally helpless she can do nothing about showing the collection herself and instead can only weakly direct him to the next room where she is charging them. Left to her own devices she surveys the situation. Normally she would have music on, and soft lighting, but so far this evening everything has just kind of happened and she is flying by the seat of her pants as they would say. If the anxiety had started to abate in his moment of honesty before, before when he returns holding an 8-inch vibrator shaped like a giant penis her heart sinks. There is no way she is wet enough for this.
He starts to stroke her with one of the smaller vibrators and she grits her teeth, this is not what this should be like.
“I’m not wet enough for this” she bleats pathetically.
“No, you’re not are you…”
So he goes down on her for a bit but that’s still not enough.
“Maybe some lubricant?” she suggests.
“Do you have some?”
Does the Pope wear a funny hat?
“Yes, in my drawer, the second one down.

Bondage:
The Sixth Rule of Bondage: (The one I tried to ignore) Submissive – never let anyone you do not know or trust tie you up. You are literally placing your life in their hands. As with any S&M process, negotiate the scenes beforehand, negotiate which bondages will take place and clearly outline both submissive and Dominant limits.

Out of all the lubricants, he picked the ‘Stimulating Tangerine’ one. By this point Daisy was a bit all over the place so it didn’t occur to her it might burn or sting her. When he starts to poke her with a vibrator and it starts to tingle, she can’t take anymore. She could cry. Yes, she actually feels she might. Old Daisy, old Daisy would have just taken it and hoped it would get better. New Daisy, new her wanted it all to be over.
“Stop. Please stop. It hurts. I don’t want to go on.”
He looks at her, and she can tell he is trying to read whether she is actually for real, the kinky girl who wanted so much actually wants to stop, or if this is some sort of game.
“Please?”
When Daisy is about to cry, a lump rises in her throat, almost choking her and now, she can feel it rising. She feels shaky. She feels scared. It stings. She wants it all to stop. Now. Right now.
He laughs.
“Ok…”
He starts to undo the first knot, it’s quickly undone.
“Yes, this was the quick release knot.”
Now for the second one. It’s tight. It’s firm. It’s not a quick release knot and now Daisy is panicking. She wants to be out of the spreader bar. She wants to be free. She wants it all not to hurt. Daisy feels embarrassed. Daisy feels ashamed. She has let him down. She’s let herself down.
“This is fun isn’t it?”
As he stands up and starts to tie the rope back up and put things away, now free, Daisy draws her legs up into a crossed leg position, protecting herself, then she draws her arms in, making herself small and compact. She is shaking and desperately wants to cry. Daisy wants to let these emotions bubble over, but she won’t let them.
“You, who wanted all of this? Now, don’t?”
And he laughs. Daisy wishes he wouldn’t. Right now she needs a hug. I need to be reassured. I need to know I’m not crazy. I need to know it’s ok, it’s all going to be alright.
Instead, he laughs at her, and maybe it’s his way of dealing with awkwardness, but Christ this hurts.
He goes downstairs for a cigarette, and she composes herself. In the bathroom, she stares at her reflection. It’s taken her 34 years to actually believe she is beautiful and she is not going to let some shitty boy laughing at her being uncomfortable to affect her. Well, affect me as much as it could.
Daisy composes herself, goes downstairs and cooks dinner. It is good food but her nerves are on edge.
They will go on to have ‘great sex’. The sort of sex you really get into. The sort of intimacy when two people are made one and it’s immersive and sexual, and all-consuming.
But right then, right there in her room, a place of safety, a place of certainty, she felt scared, anxious and alone.
If this is a love story, it’s definitely got it’s dark places.
Eventually, after one last immersive ‘shag’ we collapse exhausted, and for a while he talks, but she just curls up against him. Against his hard, cool torso, his arm around me, and her nestled in close to him. Daisy feels remarkably safe which is odd considering everything she supposes. His breathing deepens, grows deeper, a bit of a snore because he is on his back. When it’s so deep she can be certain that he is asleep Daisy slides away on to her side of the bed and takes deep breaths. Eventually, he will turn and face away. His back to her. His back to everyone.

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