A Libido Events course on bondage
By Shantar
(note from Jennifer: I taught this class privately for the BiSexual Girls Group of Vancouver BGV in the living room and dining room of one of their members. The class is a bedroom bondage basics class and the writer wrote this story of her experience for the BGV January 06 newsletter, much to my surprise. My cattle prod is sometimes brought to classes as a fun little sensation seeker toy that makes for good conversation in classes. Sometimes as in this case, someone namely the writer, and another half dozen atleast tried it that evening at my hand, the leap from Wow, conversation starter, to WOW, impact maker.)
It was a fabulous time that went by so very quickly! I was able to try pallet wrap as a restraint tool, and this time I was both wrapper and wrappee! I won't be able to use my electric toothbrush without giggling...I never knew one would work so well in all those tight, hot places of my mummified partner.
For me, the sensation of being totally enclosed, (even my toes!) with ice in all the hot spots and a vibrating toothbrush humming and buzzing along the plastic was amazing; nails on skin that was exposed and vulnerable due to a carefully cut hole in the wrap were shiver-inducing. Made with safety scissors, of course.
I had a chance to test a boundary of mine that night. You know how some boundaries are kind of fluid, or grey? The type where your partner can ease you over it, gradually introduce you to something. Well this boundary of mind didn't have an “ease line”. I either did it. Or I didn't. “There is no try,” to quote Yoda.
Jennifer, our class facilitator, mentor, instructor and generally amazing sex educator, had a new toy...an electric cattle prod. Now I have this thing with electricity. It likes me. I mean, it really likes me. My muscles react way over the top whenever I come into contact with it. Apparently, it's due to a high salt content in my blood. Weird, but true. In any case, it means I conduct really, really well, so electrical stimulation is INTENSE.
So there I was, laid out on the carpet in a warm room, wrapped from shoulders to toes in clingy, clear plastic film, and blind-folded. Jennifer's voice drifted over towards me. She was speaking to the pair of women next to me.
"Do you know what I have with me? It's my cattle prod." Anxiety tightens my belly muscles, and my breathing hitches a bit. I'm right beside them. Next in line. For a force I'm so fearful of. But I know nothing will happen unless I say "Yes. Yes, I can handle that."
So the internal dialogue begins within myself: my paranoid, protective skeptic (yes, even kinksters have them!), and my rational mind.
"No way I’m doing that! It would be so harsh. You remember what it felt like the time the dishwasher shorted out and you were pregnant!?!"
"I remember. I was so afraid for the baby. But listen to the giggles going on beside you. She’s wrapped up, yet seems to enjoy it, and she's not afraid." (Cue delightful little yelps and eeps.)
"What if I need to move? I'm all wrapped up, I can barely budge. If I cramp up, what then?"
"There are medical scissors right here, with your partner. You’d be released very quickly."
"I’ve heard the sensation can be really strong for some people, and it can last quite a while..."
"You've handled strong sensations before. Your first flogging was for half an hour. You remember what that was like? Intense, but good, so very, very good. Aren't you just a bit curious?"
"Well, yes...but…I'm scared."
The sound of clothing rustling: Jennifer moving to my side. "Well, Shantar, what about you? Do you want to try?"
"That would really be pushing a limit," comes out in a strangled voice.
"Is that a yes...or a no?" her silky voice inquires, dropping half an octave.
”She asked!”
"So, what now?"
"I'm still not sure..."
"You're with someone you trust, in a roomful of like-minded women. If not here, now, then with whom, where, and when?"
"o...ok. OK. I will!
"Yes", I reply aloud. It’s the longest word I can manage. Three seconds have passed.
I feel warmth drape itself along my right side; Jennifer has snuggled up beside me, her presence lending me strength.“Put your head on my arm”, she instructs. I feel a little foolish, but I slide a bit more towards her, and rest my neck against the crook of her left arm. I relax into her warmth, and the tension in my body begins to ease. It is peaceful lying beside her.
A hand brushes against the only opening cut into my pallet-wrap cocoon—earlier my upper thighs and crotch were bared to the whims of my partner. It is on that delicate inner thigh I feel a warm hand, holding cool plastic, stop. “I’ll do her right here, on the upper thigh.”
Internal voices howl in unison: “Sheeeeiiiiiit! For a panicy moment I seriously consider scooching under the table.
“Breathe…”, Jennifer instructs quietly.
First breath in…
“Remember what Dossie Easton said…deep breaths. Belly breaths. Send down the cord, connect to the earth, to strength, to red warmth.” The basic tenant of Tantric breathing.
Slow exhale…tension sliding away…
“She’s going to do it on the exhale next time…”
“Hush…you could stop it if you wished. Right now.”
Second breath in..
“Midori does, on the second one…”
“Do you want to?”
Slow exhale…toes curling
“Hey, she didn’t!”
“Do you want to stop?”
Third breath in…
“Everyone, breath with Shantar…” a hint of excitement in Jennifer’s voice, warm enthusiasm and encouragement flow behind the words. I feel and hear the whole room inhale…a shared moment of energy, of intention, of anticipation. A dozen women lend their strength…and I spiral out to the room to encompass what is offered.
inhaling…
“Do you want to stop?”
“God….don’t
Exhale…floating…
Then…bzzzzt! Air whooshes out of my lungs and I jackknife in a ‘v’. Muscles spasm from sternum to right knee. “Huhhhhh”, I manage, eloquently. Heart trip-hammering in my chest, breath huffing and puffing in gasps.
“You did it! You survived!” Laughter in Jennifer’s voice; joyous ribbing at my reaction. A whisper in my ear: “It’s really quite the mind fuck, isn’t it?” I nod once, not yet trusting myself to speak. A few moments of stunned amazement, then a grin begins to appear on my face.
“Damn!”
“Yeah.”
Yes, it was an intense experience. But I did survive. The funny thing is it didn’t hurt, exactly. More like getting the wind knocked out of me. And that huge muscle clench…
“I wonder what it’d feel like to have that hit right at the moment of orgasm…”
“Yeahhhhh…”
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The reference to Dossie Easton came from the class she ran on “Radical Ecstasy”, a part of the Libido Events Vancouver Sexpo held last fall. I highly recommend the book of the same name.
