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.

more Demands

It is very evident that you require a strict, regimented structure to keep you organized, otherwise you have a tendency to forget important tasks, let requests slip, or do things incorrectly.

I want you to begin keeping lists. I want you to keep track of objects i say you need to have on hand that are easily obtainable at your grocer, hardware store or art supplies dealer. You will put this on a 3'x5', unlined notecard. You are to make the list as neat as possible, using your best penmanship, each letter finely crafted, each line perfectly straight and evened out. You are not to make any spelling errors or miscues - even a single errant pen mark or drop of ink will require you to start all over from scratch.

When this list reaches 25 items, i want you to set aside a day where you will go and fetch every single one of them.

When that day arrives, before you dress, i want you to place the following items on your bed:

- one pair of foam ear plugs
- large black butt plug
- ankle cuffs, with 1' chain
- full length, black leather, over-the-mouth neck corset
- locking steel elbow cuffs, with 1' chain
- two miniature brass bells with clasp

You are to wear (and only) the following:


- thigh-high, back-seamed stockings
- white 12-suspender lace garter belt
- 4" black leather oxford heels
- floor-length blue worsted wool skirt
- powder blue turtle neck sweater
- elbow-length black cotton gloves
- long forest-green knitted poncho
- long creme-colored scarf
- tan wool beret

Before a stitch of clothing touches your skin, i want you to place the earplugs into each ear. I want you to notice the silence you are entering. It will not cut off all sounds, but you will be removed from normal interactions. Then liberally lube your asshole, the butt plug, and slide it inside. You should apply enough lube to ensure that, while snug, the plug can squeeze out of your anal passage. This will force you to clench your cheeks the entirety of your task. Pull the stockings on, one foot at a time, making sure that the seam is straight and orderly on the back of each leg. Next, lace up your heels, tightening the laces more than you usually would.

I want you to lock the ankle cuffs on, securing the 1' chain between them. Pull on your skirt, and then your turtleneck sweater. Slide your hands inside the elbow-length gloves. Position the neck corset so that it sits just beneath your nose, covering your mouth completely, then lace it shut. Pull the neck of the sweater as high as you can.

At this point, you are to lock the elbow cuffs on, again making sure to secure their 1' chain. Over your head, pull on your poncho. I want you to then attach a bell in the midpoint of each chain. Wrap your scarf around your neck, fully concealing the neck corset. Place the beret on your head, making sure it covers your ears.

You are required to keep all chains, bells, cuffs, corsets, earplugs completely concealed.

It is obvious, you are not to speak to anyone. If anyone asks you a question, politely wave them off.

I want each item purchased, precisely as i have described them. If there is any failure to comply with this task exactly as detailed here, there will be an appropriate correction upon your return.

*this continues on here

Demands

When you go home, i want you to, at the exact instant you close the door behind you, drop everything in your possession right there on the floor in the hallway. Your purse, your jacket, your skirt, everything. I want you to stand naked, shivering in the comfort of your own home.

I want you to then move to your bedroom, pull out the tray of implements you keep stored beneath your bed. I want you to slide your feet into the 5" black, patent leather platforms. Pay close attention to the tinny echo of your heels knocking against the hard floor, as you thread a 6 meter length of rope through the side of the bedframe. Pull this rope to the opposite side, leaving a "v" of rope opening towards you.

Then, extend the adjustable spreader bar to the widest length, wrap each cuff around the corresponding ankle, and lock them shut with the small brass padlocks. I want your mind to envision the keys to these locks as they are, suspended in blocks of ice in your freezer.

Position yourself against the mattress, so that your naked backside points outward and upward. Grab the bottle of lube from the tray. I want you to squeeze a liberal amount of slick liquid into your palm. With the other palm, i want you to rub your hand in between your throbbing slit, feeling the increasing moistness. Smear this all over your cunt, in between your legs, along your thighs and against your asshole. Take the hand with the lube, and mix this with your pussy juice, preparing the whole area to be used. Shove one finger at a time into your puckering anal passage, filling that chute with as much moisture as possible.

When you feel that your genitals are well-prepared - to the level you know i would be satisfied - i want you to take ahold of a branch of the extended rope in each hand. Lay the top half of your torso on the bed, making sure to stretch it across the mattress and lift and point your ass up in the air, muscles tensed and firm. Twist the rope around your wrist, manipulating it as i've shown you, binding each of your hands in self-locking knots.

I want you to wait like this. Wait, and think of why you're in this position. Think of what use you serve, what your body serves, splayed like this.

And then, i want you not to make a single sound when you hear me enter.

*this continues on here

Self restraint

In the spring of 1994, i was diagnosed by my psychologist at the time with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Actually, she was testing me for Attention Deficit Disorder, but she had something up her sleeve i didn't know. I had anticipated that she was testing me for ADD, which she anticipated, confirming what her expert mind had long theorized. My first response when she told me that i had OCD was, "Well, duh, Doc." Not the hardest thing to notice about me.

I OBSESS. I obsess about obsessing. I do not have a severe form of the disorder where i need to have absolute, manic control of my environment - locking doors multiple times, scrubbing my hands arduously, following the exact same routine precisely to the letter - i have no impulse for any of that. But where OCD manifests itself in my sexuality is my unabashedly pinpoint and frighteningly precise attention to detail. I regularly notice when one of the girls in the office alters her hair color, her hair style, her makeup, even her perfume. I even notice when a girl who i encounter infrequently on the train platform waiting for the next one to arrive has changed something with her style. I'll usually offer this to them, to which they almost all bewilderedly confirm my hunch.

What is my point, you the reader, might be asking? I find something that entrances me, station myself in front of it, and then digest as much of the subject as possible.

My latest surfeit: self bondage

***I must preface the following, do NOT attempt this without the proper safety precautions installed. Safety and common sense is of the utmost importance when attempting any of what i'm about to discuss. I cannot stress this enough***

My recent splurge in the consumption of self bondage media happened innocently enough. I was browsing through YouTube looking for various mummification videos (there are some tremendous offerings and others that are just sadly disenchanting), when i came across an Italian girl who was interested in filming herself bagging for her boyfriend. This is an incredibly risky habit - INCREDIBLY - and if it appeared even remotely like she was at risk of putting herself in danger, the video would lose all of its appeal. It is not the danger or the risk that excites me. What got me aroused was that she was doing this for someone else.

I've controlled girls long distance before. The physical separation requires some creativity when trying to restrain the bottom. Obviously, i will not be able to bind her like i would if i were there, my shadow cast over her naked form. I quickly realized in these telephonic relationships that i would need to devise a way to imprison the girls in a thorough but safe way. I made the impediment simple, unobtrusive for safe activity like a chain collar, leather cuffs or - my favorite - a chastity belt. The situation called for real ingenuity when it came to the locking of these confinements. I devised on the low-tech end - freezing the keys for the lock in a jar of water - on the high end - a time safe. The stimulation for me came in the exact moment when the girl agreed to this arrangement, took my instructions and locked herself away.

A few days after i found the italian autorista, now in full slash and burn obsession mode, i came across some old Devonshire Productions videos that featured the beautiful Simone Devon herself. I couldn't control myself. My appetite had peaked for scenarios of auto-confinement, and Mme Devon had the goods.

One particular video had her starting on a bed, taking rope and binding her thighs, then her ankles, and anchoring this to a crotch rope. Next, she took a pair of handcuffs, thread these through the loops that she had made on the ass-side of the crotch rope. She produced throughout the restriction, the most adorable groans and whines. These reached a peak when she pulled out from her bag of toys a ball gag. She was about to pull off one of the most arousing gestures i've encountered in this genre: self-gagging. I turned up the volume. I wanted to hear every squeak, ever frustrated yet inflamed vocal struggle. She completed her bondage by laying on her stomach and locking her hands behind her back in a respectable but not completely orthodox hogtie.

That her struggles indicated an inability to free herself from this predicament was not what tickled my mental erogenous zones. It was the fact that the camera was clearly there indicating that someone was nearby, and that this girl had, for the audience, bound herself up. She would increase the bondage in the two subsequent segments, with the last one dousing me in erotic fever when she actually pulled a full leather hood over her head, entombing her entire crown in tight restrictive darkness.

I can understand why it exacts such a strong response from me. In my pursuit to transform the girl into a creature overflowing with my appetites and desires, to be able to witness her go step by step, putting herself in these shackles signifies the purest acceptance of my lessons. She's not only saying that she wants to be there, but she's actively stepping in front of a camera in order to document and declare her need to be there.