Thursday, August 2, 2007

The mornin' sun is shinin' like a red rubber ball

Every opportunity i had to gather loose nickels and dimes, i took. A cousin taught me the trick of checking the coin return slot of pay phones for overlooked booty. My father instructed me on walking with my eyes trained to the sidewalk so as not to miss the orphaned pieces of silver currency. Everywhere i turned, an opportunity for treasure hunting arose. But it wasn't these doubloons i sought, rather what i could turn them into. Rubber balls.

Stationed at the entrance to every grocery store sat a formation of coin-operated vending machines ready to convert my foraging into bouncing grenades (i remember when they introduced the ultra-industrial grade bouncing material). These i would then, in an instant that seemed to last shorter than the time it took to crank the coin through the machine, fling at some unknowing third grade girl whose unfortunate reward had been my recent unabiding and antagonizing attention. The toy would fall into the hands of the authorities, and i would be made to wonder how i might ever get it back.

I remember the first time i noticed the image of silencing a female. It came from a Superman cartoon where Lois had bungled her way into the baddies lair, yet again, only to be helplessly bound at the ankles and wrists. Covering her mouth, the gangsters had wrapped a strip of cloth around her head, pulling it tight between her lips. The word "silencing" is misleading. In fact, it's dishonest. A girl gagged like this is most certainly not quiet. In fact, she becomes a rather interactive stimulant with her abductor, pleading with ever more vigor through the material stuffed between her teeth. Her muffled desperation, a signifier that her fate is out of her hands, immediately ignited a furnace inside of me.

She may be offering all of the riches in the world, a song that soothes the hardest of souls, the secrets to Shangri-La, it doesn't matter. Her attempts at persuading her captor are thwarted. Her voice has been altered, like the liberty of her body - taken completely from her. She can only communicate in moans, contorted eyebrows, violent head shakes, wildly enlarged eyes. Even at a young age, i recognized the excitement this polemic offered, and saw her ministrations as a root cause for arousal.

I experienced a harmonious symbiosis while watching the "gimp" scene in Pulp Fiction. It was my initial foray into the use of my long lost toy as a gagging implement, which had i not had my many loyal years with the rubber ball i may not have emerged unscathed from the experience. Later, when i saw a shiny red rubber orb pinched between the voluptuous lips of a gorgeous female bondage model, i felt a punch to the stomach and head of massive, massive desire that capitalized on my youthful obsession. I was hooked. I've said this in many different ways before, but this image fulfilled an appetite i didn't even know existed.

Singlehandedly, i find the gag to be the most direct and dramatic way to begin a scene. Removing the girl of the ability to speak is an incredibly breathtaking experience, but also risky. Safewords are short circuited, some other form of communication (hand signal, blink code, etc.) must be employed. Also, long term dispatch of a ballgag leads to severe cramping of the jaw, which surprised me at first, but i have come to learn that this area of the body is one of the most tender and sensitive (and least forgiving) that those who engage in SM utilize.

I prefer scenes wherein the girl opens her mouth in anticipation of the gag, or better, gags herself, as opposed to forcibly being shoved in. Watching as she accepts the intruder, and then the straps get pulled behind her head and buckled, i am witnessing a compounded image of the girl's submission. She's transforming her face into a symbol of one whose rights are slowly being stripped from her. Undeniably, I regard this look as a thing of beauty, even more so as a string of saliva drips from her oral cavity, despite its twisted and grotesque characteristics.

I can't wait for the next opportunity to impede.


Anonymous said...

How interesting. I, too, had an epiphany with the 'gimp' scene in Pulp Fiction, but it inspired many years of irrational fear of it, unlike your experience. I was in college at the time and watched the movie alone one day, having cut my classes in order to see it. By far the strongest image I left that film with was my fear of that gag and its symbolism, as derived from that scene. It disturbed me so much.

My first forays into SM were in those same years. No one ever approached me with such a ball gag, so the issue never came to a head for me. It's only been in recent years that I've come to appreciate the eroticism of the implement (although only in imagery, as I've never experienced one myself). But I still choose to studiously avoid thinking about that Pulp Fiction scene. :-)

Strangely, I never had such a negative response to scenes like the Lois Lane one you described. I'm not sure where the difference lies.

my best,

Anonymous said...

i felt like your writing style was shining in this entry. it reminded me of your earliest posts, and i was smiling as i read.

i so hate that ball gag. in the future maybe if i try to remember the fun that *i* had playing with the bouncy balls (although i never directed them at anyone's heads... i gave them names and personalities and took them on outings) i will tolerate it with more submissive peace.

Roper said...

An excellent description of one of the most effective tools in the Dom's armory.

Farmwife said...

Oh, ball gags. So nice you dedicated a post to it. The moment I saw a red ball gag in the mouth of a model over at extreme restraints. I wanted one. J said no. Because, you see, he said one thing is to have a stick in the house (cane), another thing to have something like this. I got one anyway, and it turned out way too big, so he made me wear despite it giving me a headache. It was pink, I guess, and not very nice, so he ended up using it eventually to plug a hole in order to fix the diesel rototiller. How naughty is that. By then I got a different gag which fit just right, and since I wanted a smaller one, I couldn't find one that would be read, so went with black. But I too which it was a red ball. Red goes so nicely with very dark hair and dark eyes, I think.

Farmwife said...

But it's true that the scenes involving gagging are very difficult. Besides, J says "there's nothing attractive about a ball gag". He does, however, like to gag me because I am sassy and bossy and gagging takes that away. I find though that gagging works best with the scenes that already happened before - like caning which happens all the time - it's perfect for full-force deep-welting caning because instead of screaming very loudly I bite into the gag and internalize the excruciating pain instead. But with some more complex bondage, like immobilizing with a spreader bar,which J liked a lot, gag is difficult, because I feel like we need to communicate.

thisgirl said...

Good post :)

When i first started playing with my Dom i would fight restraints quite a lot, but i've got better at being more accepting of it and the play seems to be better for that, i think if he doesnt have the fight it doesnt distract him from where his imagination is taking him. I still dont like gags too much mind you i prefer to scream lol ;)

jayne said...

There is a wonderful liberation in being gagged. Just as blindfolding releases the brain from concentration on the visual, gagging releases the brain from the need to communicate verbally. It gives freedom to be completely self-contained and concentrate only on your own feelings and experiences.

{milla} said...

I was surprised at how much it frightened me the first time. Along with a blindfold, I quickly became panicked the first time and was begging for them to come off. I was surprised, because I didn't think it would be such a physical or psychological reaction. I'm still scared of situations where I have no option but to be restrained, gagged or blindfolded. Aren't we a funny lot, that we subject ourselves to being petrified. Sometimes I wonder.


littlegirl said...

while this isn't something i've experienced, your description made the idea quite vivid. i could imagine the taste and texture of the ball so easily - probably because you tied it to such a common childhood toy.

i agree with persephone that your writing is particularly lovely here. thank you!

jayne said...

Milla, isn't it strange that you find these experiences threatening whilst i find them so liberating, we are all so different in our responses. It must be this difference between us that leads to such strong bonding between sub and dom when the coupling works.

{milla} said...

It is definitely interesting, there are other things that I find easy(ier) than other seem to, for example some humiliation, some pain, etc. I can see how my fear is simply in my mind a lot of the time, I think it's a bit psychologically driven because of simple fear of constrained spaces etc (which I never actually knew I had). It's obviously also trust, if you/me/others trust our Dom/submissives enough to enjoy all these behaviours, then it means trust should be (must be) very strong, which naturally leads to a strong bond.


Deity said...

I wonder what led you to appreciate the eroticism of the implement. What rescued it from the carnage of that PF scene?

I didn't direct them at their head, but rather (SHOCK) their bottoms. For some reason, that was okay to do.

I love thinking of your coterie of rubber-balled pals. Very cute.

Thank you for your comment. As the first dominant male to do so, i'm gratified to have your input.

i'm glad you have an affinity for these devices. Yes, must be careful to get ones that fit. The only gal i've ever seen who can regularly take a super large one is the lovely Sadie Belle.

Oh i wouldn't underestimate how much joy a dominant can derive from a girl's struggle and resistance. But it's good that you want to get along with the gag.

You hit on it just right. Wonderful liberation. Just sit tight and enjoy the silencing.

i can definitely understand how it manifests itself in petrification. Thankfully, when these relationships work, there is a symbiosis that would allow the dominant to guide you through the stages of fear or to rescue you from them.

an association to a childhood toy? I can only imagine what that does to a little girl.

Marie 'entrain said...

I couldn't help but laugh when i read this post. My guy was bought a rubber bouncy ball by a friend of mine while we where on a shopping excursion (needless to say it kept him occupied for the next few hours, the childlike qualities some times never disappear, but i love them). However, i had no idea that it would also be used on me. Next thing I know, Im blindfolded, tied up, and the rubber ball is firmly in my mouth.
He finds it incredibly sexy when I start drooling all over myself. I have yet to gather why, but I am more than happy to oblige.