B is for Bondage (and Boobs, and Butt…)

I could have done boobs, you know. Because I have no worries about splashing them on here weekly. Modesty is not my strong suit. I could have put my butt on here, or talked about how I dislike butt sex (because I do, I do!)…but then I’d also have to tell you how incredible the orgasms are when M takes me in the ass. I’d rather not do that today. Nope. Today I just wanna talk rope. Or chains. Or zipties. Oh, Bondage, how you stir me up!

So many of my deepest, darkest, meanest masturbation fantasies have to do with bondage. Of being in a predicament where one is choosing which pain is worse…or even better, of being tied so securely that one is totally helpless, where submission isn’t just given, but taken.

Would I want this in real life?

Maybe, or at least, sometimes I think I do. I’m a pretty feisty, independent woman. I tend to be a control taker. If I liked hurting people, I’d likely be a great Domme, because I’m just so fucking bossy. I manage a big family, a job, pets, a home, my own business, and pretty much everyone else’s business too. *insert loud laughter here*

But the idea…the inability to not be able to push my wants onto a situation and be totally and completely dominated? Which is NOT to say that when I’m with M, that this slut gets choices, mind you. But I’m…well,  I was going to say “not bound”…but now, when I think about this some more,  I recall that I *am* secured –with wrist cuffs and thigh cuffs and those then hooked together. So I can’t really stop him. But it kind of is …loose? I can wiggle my hands. I can “hootch” myself across the bed. It must really look ridiculous, this round redhead scrabbling on splayed legs like a beached crab! (Why have I never thought of this before?? Oh, the embarrassment!)  I never get far, mind you, because He always catches me.

But that’s not the kind of bondage that lives in my dark place. In that scary rabbit hole, I’m not able to move. Not able to thrash or stop anything. I can’t plead because I’m gagged, or sometimes, masked. No closing of legs, because they are bound tightly to…something. The arms of a chair, butt scootched forward, cunt open and exposed and…vulnerable. I think it’s the vulnerable that really gets to me. It’s both terrifying and exciting.

Mmmmm…B is definitely for Bondage.

And I *like* it.

About vanillamom

For over 8 years--(EIGHT?!) nilla and M have been a D/s couple. I'm the "small s" side of that designation, as he often reminds me. I'm silly and prone to giggling at inopportune times. He's a wicked Sadist, who feeds me my drug of choice--pain. My brain is always spinning dirty and dark little fantasies, which I sometimes share with the world. Welcome to the nilla-verse. It's wet and slippery here...with a dragon or two lurking.
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One Response to B is for Bondage (and Boobs, and Butt…)

  1. This maybe the best article you have written, and I’m glad you like it . Tip

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