Sunday, February 7, 2010

Putting pressure on myself

The other day i was looking at a new corset maker i'd discovered, going through the usual evaluation process:

critiquing the corsets shape/construction (some really good S-shaped items, perhaps too many pipe stem corsets for my tastes); dissecting the corsetier's dedication to tightlacing (clearly, Fran is a practitioner herself of corset training); and ultimately will i purchase one for my girl (*sigh* yes, i probably will).

There is no doubt that my girl adores corsetting. In truth, she doesn't devote as much free time as i do to the research and exploration of the artform of restraint. I'm the one who usually introduces her to the latest device or accoutrement she will likely sport, and i understand that is how our dynamic has been constructed. But, i also understood that there are deeper, more integrated motivations for my passions.

I love restraint. I love bondage and confinement. I always have, but here's where it may not be exactly clear: i love restraint for myself. I recognize that hearing a Dominant male offer that in addition to restraining his submissive girl, he also likes to apply it to himself may result in a little head-scratching. I might even risk my membership in the Great Hall of Fierce and Ferocious Dominants by admitting these appetites. Alas, risk i must.

I've spoken in the past about exercising my own restraint, but what i'm referring to in this diatribe isn't self-control. In fact, it might make more sense if we used the slightly different word of "constraint" or also known as the application of physical pressure.

It's important that i convince you that this isn't something that i've just been walking around with in my pocket. In fact, it's somewhat of a surprise to me. I've been binding up pretty girls for so many years, i never stopped to recognize that there is some of this gesticulation that i like to do to myself. Let me be more clear.

As long as i can remember, since i was a kid, i have put tape on my fingers, wrapping it around each digit as an athlete or guitar player might. I love the constriction, but i also like how it looks, aesthetically. I also really enjoy how it feels to peel it off my skin at the end of the day, slowly revealing the ring of moisture-parched flesh underneath. Extending this practice, i have a collection of leather and velcro straps that i've accumulated over the years that i will, on occasion, wrap around my forearms, my biceps, or even my mid-section.

I remember one of my favorite things to do as a kid on a Saturday afternoon was to sneak down into our basement and burrow under the piles of freshly washed laundry. The more compression i felt, the more secure and at peace i seemed. I would lay there for hours, even falling asleep. I didn't want to do anything else with my weekend, just rest underneath all those layers, imagining that i was in some kind of factory, waiting patiently in the mold, until the moment when my raw materials had cured and hardened.

Even today, i still like wearing ultra-tight underwear, pants and shirts. I enjoy the rigidness and the restriction of the tight-fitting garments, but i also like how it makes me feel more cohesive and put together.

Oddly, none of this has any submissive applications. I've never wanted to be at someone else's whim, bound by them. That actually irritates me just to even think about it. No, for me, this is something i'm in complete control of, because it's not the position of power this places me, but the sensation of compression that i'm after.

That said, i do look at my girl, mummified in several layers of plastic wrap and duct tape with a little nostalgia.


Vesta said...

When one of my sons was young, he had trouble staying still to learn. You probably know me well enough to not be surprised that I researched how to help him. The occupational therapist made him a singlet to wear under his school shirt of the tightest elastic. It was tiny and I had to stretch it over his torso. It seemed to help considerably.

But more significant is what I did with his fingers. I would take each one in turn and holding tight, press firmly towards the knuckle, constricting the skin. I'd do this about a dozen times before moving to the next finger. I did it in the mornings before school, as he was falling asleep or even just sitting on the couch beside him. He adored that.

He's a university student these days and I often drive him there when it is a very early session. When the light turns red, I do the finger thing, and he purrs, even today.

Make of it what you will, but he's highly creative, says that playing with his girl is the most fun he has ever had and prefers to sleep on the floor. He is his own man and we love him with a passion!

goodgirl said...

I do not believe that wanting to be constricted is at all the same as being controlled or restrained. I remember being little, and dripping wax all over my hand, ensuring all five digits and my palm were completely coated in thick heavy layers, so heavy in fact that I was unable to bend my fingers. I greatly appreciated the weight of the wax, the heaviness of it all; however, for me it had nothing to do with being restrained since I truly did not understand the meaning of such a word but rather the wonderfulness of the heat and pressure.

Like you, I also would take tape, much to my mother's chagrin, and wrap it around my fingers, my wrists, my arms and even my ankles, just to feel the restriction.

Although I never hid under the piles of laundry I can relate with how I feel every night as I slip under the heavy duvet (even in the summer), tucking my limbs tight, feeling cocooned with its weight. When I am in my bed I feel safe, incredibly so.

Thank you for sharing this part of you.


Missy n’ B said...

I may have visited the Great Hall of Fierce and Ferocious Dominants when I was in Canton, OH.

Or was that in Cooperstown?

dawn said...

Deity Sir,

i don't see enjoying the sensations of compression/restriction as something that should be considered solely the realm of the submissive either. i think Your GHFFD card is safe Sir. It is interesting to me how striking are the things that are very specific to the Dominant and the submissive and how equally striking are the differences that make each of us unique. Thank You for sharing this striking difference here. i think it gives You possibly a clearer understanding of just exactly what Your girl is experiencing when You wrap her up as You clearly love to do and maybe even a stronger sense of connection. To me, that is a beautiful thing.


KKinDK said...

I love all of your posts, but enjoyed this one particularly because I totally identified with sitting under all of that laundry, lol! My husband and I were trying to figure out if there was a name for the desire to be compressed, not just in a corset or restraints, but under the weight of something. I beg my husband to just lay on me with all of his weight. He is quite a lot larger than me and the feeling of being squished under him is so wonderful. I have to have a heavy blanket when I sleep, I also wear a corset 23/7 and can recommend Doris Müller at Corsets and More ( in Altersbach Germany. She is a dedicated tightlacer and has made a better fitting and more comfortable corset than any maker so far, even the ones I went to for a personal fitting. For S-Bend corsets she does require meeting in person, though I can imagine it would be well worth the effort, plus there can be some fun things to do in Germany or nearby.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts and another great post!

Anonymous said...

I've always hated being restrained (tied up) but I find compression (wearing a corset) to be very relaxing. I don't consider them to be the same thing at all.

I'm sure you know that they make corsets for men too. ;)

K said...

I'm with ya, D. Although my body lost the taste for constraint many years ago, my memory still features it very pleasantly (e.g., being buried on the beach), most often in dreams.

I wonder if we ever talked about Fakir Musafar's ruminations on bodily constriction and encumbrance. If not, I'll have to bring along my dog-ear'd copy of Re-Search #12 the next time we meet. Doubtless other of your readers are familiar with it as a seminal moment in the annals of recorded BDSM history, but today it's very hard to come by the text.

In it FM ruminates on bodily modification as the gateway to altered states and subtle appreciations of reality's otherwise ineffable workings. Innumerable traditions initiate promising novices into their mysteries by means of bodily constriction, simply because it immediately changes one's relationship to one's body, engendering the understanding that while we live in them, we are not our bodies. From within this simple gateway, vastly more open territory often appears.

I've flattered myself over the years to think that I stand somewhere in that currently-stunted legacy (I'm reminded of our mutual distaste for lumpen, shapeless clothing) with my rope-y predilections, but in defense of that conceit I have often stepped back from rigging a tie to look upon the flowering of a new state that could only be described as altered, and it is an extraordinary and honorable circumstance, worthy of my humility.

Deity said...

What material was this singlet made out of?

i used to sleep as such that my entire head was underneath the blanket because i imagined it was my cocoon (obviously womb-like).

It's in Toronto.

taken further, i often try things on myself first before i apply them to my girl because of that exact strivance for understanding.

What stunning corsets! Thank you for sharing the link. I'd never heard of her before. I shall now waste thirty minutes pawing through her vast collection.

I do indeed. I'm curious but not enough to take the plunge.

We haven't spoken of M. Musafar. I'd love to.

I first encountered the spiritual context of body modification in my graduate studies on African American religion. The "reclamation" as it was often stated by strict adherents and practitioners of extreme body modification.

I could go on, but i won't (because it should be saved for our next outing).