Two more letters describing fantasies and experiences by guys who filled out my NYBC questionnaire way back in the mid-eighties. None of the actual experiences recorded here were necessarily wonderful , or even very happy ones, and the fantasy at the end is, for me, a little grizzly, but what I love about these letters is what I've always loved about most Bound & Gagged submissions: the voices of the writers as they talk about the things that matter more to them than possibly anything else in their lives. Wish I could get all of you who'll be reading this, to write me in your own words about your own bondage experiences and fantasies, no matter how good, bad or just plain ordinary they may seem to you. You telling me about them will make them extraordinary. You know how to reach me: [email protected].
LOSES BET, BUT KEEPS FAITH
NEW YORK. I was 19 or 20 and had fantasies previously of bondage. I was walking around the West Village one afternoon when a guy dressed in leather driving a car pulled up to me. He invited me into the car. I got in. We talked, and decided to go to a cheap hotel nearby. He asked me if I’d ever been spanked or whipped before. I told him no, but I had fantasies. He said if I could withstand a paddling/whipping by him, he would give me $10. I wasn’t hustling him, I was just a naive kid, so I agreed. He was even going to make it easy for me by letting me keep on my jeans. I agreed to have my hands tied behind my back.
After just a few intense strokes of his whip, I gave up, begging for him to stop. I was ready to run out of the room with no shirt, and my hands tied behind my back to get away from him. I don’t remember cumming, but I think I got him to cum.
I lost the bet, and I was just glad to get out of there, even if I didn’t cum. Despite this bad first experience, I held on to my belief that there were and are men who can get into bondage and S&M and respect each others’ limits, which has, for the most part, been my experience.
BONDAGE FROM THE BEGINNING, IN FACT AND FANTASY
My awakening to bondage was aligned with my awakening to my sexuality during puberty. Before I was sexually capable, body wise, I dreamed every night of being kidnapped by several men and taken away — always tied-up and never rescued. Inevitably in my dreams, I fell in love with the leader of these men. But what my awakening is — is really one of retrospection, realizing that I have always been attuned to bondage. A favorite story of my mother’s relates how I used to play in our backyard with clothespins on my toes waiting for “cammabals” to come and tie me up.
When playing with my friends at age nine, we were to start a bicycle club. My suggestion for initiation was to tie up new members until they pleaded to be released. I think it’s so funny to think how seriously that was considered by my friends. And before I ever ejaculated I was tieing myself up. On one momentous day, I had tied my legs to a chin up bar and with my hands greasy from putting a wooden “dildo” up my ass, I finally came while masturbating.
My first real bondage experience was with a man who answered a personal ad of mine at age eighteen. He was terribly unstable and had a horrible self image, letting people whip him when he didn’t feel happier afterwards. But he was gentle and my memory of the shared time will always rate highly. He tied me up in many ways, put titclamps on me for the first time, hooded me. He oiled me and massaged me. We had sex for five hours and I have yet to repeat that length. I wasn’t aware that any time had passed, I had found a perfect bliss.
Recently, I had an extremely good session. It evolved from little intention and went farther than I have ever gone before. I held up a pound off my tits, stretched between two rafters in a garage. Gagged with over fifty feet of chain wrapped over my cock, I was fucked and lifted into the air with each thrust. I finally cleaned my master’s boots, jerking off like I’ve rarely done.
A pleasant change from my worst experience, which was my first. I answered an ad from two men in Philadelphia and visited them at their house. They were into humiliation which I am not. I have yet to understand how they got off by forcing me to vacuum their bedroom chained up. They fucked me without relaxing me enough. They ignored me when they were done and finally they asked me to come back because I was their best outside experience. Yecch.
As far as safe sex goes, I would ignore it if there wasn’t any health crisis and can imagine that I might have been quite unhealthy if I was active during the innocent seventies. But I am a child of the eighties and before I really got into the swing of leather sex-bam-AIDS. This being the case I am delighted I am into bondage because my fantasies really don’t have to be seriously compromised by having safe sex.
As far as those fantasies go, I would like to be consumed, consumed within an experience so intense that my abilities radically changed because of it. These fantasies are ones never to be acted out because they are much too violent, much too much for me at this time. And finally I want to keep many of my inabilities — I want to keep this fantasy for fantasy’s sake. So here it is (though it involves much more than just bondage):
At night I am alone at home. There’s a knock at the door, I answer it. Before me stands a man about twenty five, taller and more massive than I am. He is clothed in boots, chaps and a leather mask which coats his face like paint. On his chest is a chain between his pierced nipples which stand out on well developed pecs. He simply reaches for my hand and I follow him.
Parked outside my house is a van and he leads me inside. Inside it is dark and the door closes behind me. The van pulls away. He pushes me to the floor of the van and automatically I wrap my hands around his legs. He strips off what clothes I have and runs his hand across my pierced nipple and my Prince Albert. He laughs and I shiver. He pushes my head down to his boots and I begin to wash them with my tongue. He collars me and ties my hands up tight to my neck reaching as highly as they can go. The collar is wide. He pulls my legs out over the floor. He reaches down and massages my asshole, lubricates it, then shoves an enormous buttplug up me. My mind has fallen away, I’ve become an animal ready to relieve the sexual need inside me in any way. He stands over me and puts his boot down on my cheek. He pulls my ankles up near my hands and ties them together. He steps back from me, then leans down to my face and forces a large cock gag into my mouth. Then he laces a solid hood over my face. The van drives on and I wait on the floor. Each bump drives my ass into the plug and my mouth onto the gag. My cock drips. He suddenly pulls on my head and my nose is buried in his pubic hair.
The van finally stops and I am lifted out. At rest, after being carried, I am set on the floor. My hands and legs are untied. I am forced to stand and my hands and arms are stretched out above me. My legs are also stretched out and farther behind me so I hang helplessly. Clamps with weights are attached to my nipples. A cold cream is forced into my cock and a catheter follows. It is tied to the Prince Albert. My balls are tied apart, then hung with weights which bang against one another. Hands search my body and the buttplug becomes replaced with a cock fucking me. My whole body begins to shake, then suddenly the cock slips out of me and for a while I hang freely in silence. Then my legs are momentarily released so a jockstrap can be put on me.
I’m surprised at being clothed until a needle pushes through the cloth of the jock, then into the skin of my penis, then out again through the jock. I scream into the gag. Another needle goes in, then another. Finally my penis is lined with needles and I am sewn to the jock. Silence comes again, until a belt whips across my ass, then one in front — on my chest. I am belted on both sides and occasionally across my cock. My whole body begins to burn, I shake again. Someone is rimming me between my legs. Behind me, someone enters me and I am whipped only over my chest and legs. The man inside thrusts faster and faster, blows begin to land over my cock and between each blow a needle is ripped from me. When they are all removed, the blows on my cock increase in number and strength. The man thrusts high into me. I explode with cum racing over my chest. The man pulls out and comes over my back. Another race of semen coats my chest from the man previously whipping me.
I fall limp on my chains and slowly everything but the hood is removed from me. A man says to me, “You can see us and then never see us again. Or not remove the hood, let us return you to your house and then wait...for us to come for you again.” I pause, then decide to let the tight leather cloak my head.
That is my most tremendous fantasy. There are many elements which I hope to experience.
I hope this letter has proved interesting. I’ve certainly enjoyed writing it.
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Coming in 2015: New chapters in the bondage life of Eric Tide!
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