Bondage Tales
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Bondage Tales
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The genre bondage, which is derived from the definition of slavery, collects all the erotic stories that deal with the physical subjugation of the partners with the use of ligatures, corsets, hoods, gags. So in general standard, on consenting to the physical freedom, to move, to see, to speak, to hear. The only concession is passively sexual pleasures of one or more persons.
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To bring to your attention erotic stories that otherwise you would not go to look for, because often the case is much more exciting of the simple find.
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"I felt like I'd gone to another planet."
Bondage and BDSM sex have always been sexual fantasies for many people, but this has become even more of a phenomenon as experimenting with kinky sex has seen a huge rise in popularity over the past few years. Bondage and BDSM can be a whole lot of fun but these activities also demand a lot of trust and responsibility to do it safely with safe words, consent and best practice (you don't magically learn how to safely tie knots, after all) at the front of everyone's minds. So before you get down to the dirty, you need to swot up as much as you can on how to do it before you try anything IRL. It should only ever be with a partner you trust, are free to communicate openly and honestly with, and with whom you've discussed your boundaries and safe words with.
Here, six women who got all their safety boxes ticked before embarking on their bondage sex adventures, share their best ever bondage sex stories.
"My best ever bondage experience didn’t even require any rope, just a simple restraint kit for your bed . My partner had me lying on my stomach on the bed. I was wearing wrist and ankle cuffs and he hooked each ankle and wrist to the four corners of the bed. I was spreadeagled and helpless. He took my magic wand vibrator aka the old school Hitachi and placed it against my vulva from behind. Because of the angle, it wasn’t in direct contact with my clit, but the vibrations still made themselves known.
"He teased me like this for what felt like forever, but was probably only minutes. I had enough give in my restraints that I could writhe around and even lift my hips slightly, which allowed the vibrator to finally make direct contact. Only this time, I couldn’t get away from the overwhelming sensations so multiple orgasms were forced as I screamed (in pleasure and in a sexy, kinky kind of pain). When we were done, I’d lost count of my orgasms and my voice. It was GREAT!"
- Kayla Lords, founder of Loving BDSM
"My favourite bondage session was the first time my husband ever tied me up. We used simple under-the-bed restraints and a blindfold. He took to being a Dom like a fish to water. He gave me a spanking and then choked me while going down on me. Then, he added a stainless steel dildo into the mix. It was a particularly amazing experience because I trusted him so completely and we were both so intensely into it. It was one of the best orgasms I've ever had."
"My favourite bondage experience was when partner tied me up in a criss-cross pattern with a harness around my breasts, making me put my arms behind my head and leaving a piece of rope long enough to bring back between my legs. I got onto my knees to give him a blow job, loving the feeling of my power being removed. Then, he pushed me onto the bed face down and started to spank me, switching between light and hard.
"He turned me over, kissed me ferociously and dropped his head between my legs and moved the rope out of the way. It only took a minute for me to orgasm hard. My orgasm carried on rippling after its peak, then he inserted two fingers and started fucking my G spot . I was coming again and again. I have no idea how long it lasted for. It could have been all night - when wave-type orgasms begin with me, I can ride that wave, peaking and rolling until exhaustion hits. I felt like I'd gone to another planet. My eyes slowly came back to focus and I saw him grinning at me. He untied my hands and I jumped on top of him, ready for more."
"I once went to a love hotel in Osaka (special themed hotels which you can rent by the hour in Japan) with a guy I'd been seeing for a couple of weeks. The entire room was kitted out with bondage equipment: stocks at the end of the bed, chains above it that you could be manacled to, even a special inflatable mat in the bathroom that you could cover in lube and roll around in. Every conceivable piece of furniture had an alternative kinky purpose. After getting nailed while in the stocks, and tied to everything that had hooks and fasteners, eventually we realised our time was up. We'd only tried about a quarter of the equipment, but definitely got way more than our money's worth!
"My weirdest bondage experience happened partway through a super-hot night in. My partner restrained me with handcuffs designed to hook over the top of a door frame, and then teased me for ages by alternating spanking and vibrations: hot! Unfortunately, it proved a little *too* hot for me, and I remember experiencing a weird smash-cut - one minute I was enjoying the sensation, the next I was looking up at my naked and hugely erect boyfriend from a foetal position on the bedroom floor... onto which I had fainted. He was very quick with the aftercare, water, and biscuits. Moral of the story? Don't do intense bondage on an empty stomach!"
- Girl On The Net , sex blogger and author
"I was tied with my ankles wide apart and secured to the bed posts when we both realised my jeans were still partway down my legs. I thought he'd untie me to take them off, but instead he left the room, leaving me tied up and helpless. When he came back, he told me to close my eyes and dragged a cold metal blade across my lips. He traced it down my body before hooking it under my bra and slicing through the elastic.
"I was so horny I wanted him to cut me loose so I could grab him there and then, but he moved to the bottom of the bed and cut my jeans away slowly. After ripping off my underwear, he plunged his face between my legs and started fucking me with his fingers and tongue. I tensed up in my ropes and came hard. He carried on pounding my clit with his tongue as wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through me. When I finally stopped shuddering, I told him I wanted him to fuck me, and he picked up the knife to cut me loose."
- Tabitha Rayne , sex blogger and designer of the Ruby Glow vibrator .
"Probably one of the sexiest experiences I've had was at a club when my partner tied me up and spent an hour or so teasing me with various sensations and toys. So hot! Highly recommend!
"But I have had some mishaps when experimenting with bondage. Once, my partner and I were playing at a swingers' club. It was a kink night but they were very quiet so we were the only people playing in the dungeon. They had several winches which the club owner insisted were perfectly safe to suspend from. My partner had me in a partial (not even a full!) Shibari suspension with perhaps 50% of my body weight off the ground, when the winch gave way. It was only my partner's quick reflexes which meant he was able to grab the rope and stop me from falling - without that, we'd have potentially been looking at a serious injury. Lesson learned: triple-check your equipment, and maybe don't believe everything a non-expert tells you about dungeon safety!"
- Amy Norton, a sex writer, kink educator and founder of Coffee and Kink
This article was originally published in 2020 and has since been updated.
By January Nelson
Updated September 30, 2019
If you are into whips and chains, then you are going to get turned on by these bondage stories from Reddit. Vanilla sex doesn’t do it for everyone. Some people need a little more excitement than that. They need a little more danger. If you get turned on by the thought of getting tied up, gagged, choked, and strapped to the bed, then you are going to love these bondage stories.
By January Nelson
Updated September 30, 2019
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“Claire was tied face down to the bed, a big red ball gag in her mouth and coarse ropes binding her wrists and ankles to the bedposts, keeping her in place. She was panting heavily, nervous, her small breasts heaving. She’d found this place online in one of the dark chatrooms where nobody used their real names.
She’d gone down three alleyways and entered a seedy place, where there were thick doors and sounds of pleasure coming through. Girls screaming in ecstasy, flesh slapping against flesh, men groaning. She’d signed a few forms and given her consent, then put on a pair of long black stockings, black high heels, a black collar, and had allowed herself to be tied down to this disgusting, small bed.
She was wondered how long it would be, and when the door opened, she felt her heart beat even faster. She couldn’t see the men enter the room but she could hear them. She felt their hands caress her body and begin to pull down her thin black panties to expose her tight pink pussy.
She felt their fingers probe her and her hands pulled down instinctively. The ropes were too strong and she couldn’t move as she was being played with, no matter how fast, or how deep they went. She felt the bed shake as a man climbed on, and she began to breathe heavily as he placed his hands down next to her head and something, something poked against her pussy.
Without warning he thrust in and she gasped in pleasure around her gag. The thick cock was so deep inside her that she thought that she’d scream! She tried to control her moans as the man used her like a sex doll, pounding her and grabbing onto her hair for leverage. She felt him speed up, felt him reach his climax, and she groaned as he came inside her.
He was panting heavily, and so was Claire, but for her it wasn’t even nearly over. The man climbed off the bed and another one climbed on next, thrusting his cock deep inside her.
For hours she felt herself get fucked by different men, used like a tissue to catch their cum. She came over and over again, screaming into her ball gag, loving the feeling of the cocks plowing her. By the end of the day when the man came in to untie her she could barely move her legs. She was dripping out of her cunt, semen staining the streets.
The ropes had left red marks around her wrists and ankles. Still, she knew that she’d be back tomorrow. As she left the room she saw other women leaving the rooms nearby, smiles plastered across their faces. They were walking bow-legged and their high heels were wobbling on the floor.
Claire was one of them now.” — Peskykin
“A girl—no, now woman, unequivocally, though she’s still a girl to me, with some of those endearing habits left over from childhood that most of us, the unlucky ones, lose when we (supposedly) mature: in her case, biting her lip and casting her beautiful dark eyes to the ceiling as she considered a posed question—a woman kneels before me, her hands bound, her pert breasts thrust forward, the position revealing the contours of her ribs.
“Sir,” she whispers. “Do whatever you want to me.” I reach out and run my hand through her hair, black as pitch, dropping down to one breast as I pinch her nipple and begin to undo my belt.
How did we get here? Let me back up.
I’m a PhD candidate in comparative literature a top university, one which was in the news last year for student protests, and which continues to be in the news on occasion. During the tumult of the protests, many of my colleagues noted class attendance dwindling—not that they particularly minded, since most of us are farther left than even our most sincere little radicals.
My class, for seniors writing theses, remained well attended, however. My secret was the same secret that led to record setting enrollments in previous years: sex. Any seniors who wanted to write theses on sexuality in literature? Sign up for the “Literature and Sexuality Senior Colloquium.” Genius.
If you’ve never read The Story of O—well, I recommend it. For academics, it’s easy to teach because students love to talk about it. And for Priya, my best student, it seemed to spark an interest she didn’t realize she had.
“I was thinking of changing my thesis topic,” she told me one afternoon after class, over coffee, while we discussed her initial proposal, which focused on oral histories of sex workers. “Something…”
And then she paused, bit her lip. She’s a petite girl, Indian-American, majoring in English and Biology, the latter to keep the possibility of med school alive.
“About BDSM. I really liked The Story of O. And I was thinking…” Here, she laid out a fairly clever thesis topic, reading female empowerment into narratives of sexual submission. I OK’d the project and she was off.
It happened so gradually, I barely noticed it. I was attracted to her, naturally, but I was attracted to many of my female students and so the noise blocked it out—like most red-blooded male academics, I’d gotten used to being around attractive, smart, driven young people revealing their vulnerabilities. I began meeting with Priya bi-weekly, and then weekly, chatting about her paper, about her other classes, about her on-campus activism. At one point, I noticed my hand on hers. She was talking excitedly about a protest. I delicately removed my hand and she glanced down at it, and then at me—I couldn’t read the look on her face.
“No, it’s okay,” she replied, a little too quickly.
Another time, I forget exactly when, I mentioned something that clued her in to the fact that I had personal BDSM experience—something about after-care, something that set her eyes shining.
“So, you’ve… Done, like, scenes and stuff?”
“Priya, we shouldn’t be talking about this.”
“But it’s what my thesis is about. You have to talk to me about it.”
“But not about my own, personal…” I paused. Digging myself into a hole. “Interests.”
She grinned. “Are you a dom or a sub or a switch? You’re a dom. I can tell.”
I shut that conversation down pretty fast too. She wrote her thesis, graduated summa, and I was proud of her.
It was a month or two before I saw her again: I was riding my bike to the library, when I like to camp out in the summer months to work, since my apartment has no air conditioning, when I saw her in smart business dress, leading a group of prospective students on a tour. We waved and later, I saw the same group again in the library. She flashed another smile my way and, an hour later, found me again. Sans prospies.
It turned out, she had a job at the admissions office. A full time job. Would I like to get lunch with her? I would.
Over lunch, our hands found each other again. She invited me over for dinner that evening and I took her up on the offer.
In the dark of her bedroom after our first night together, her curled up in the crook of my arm, her breath ragged after our fucking, she asked me to be her dom.
“I’ve just read so much about it, and it sounds like… What I’ve always wanted,” she whispered. “And I feel like what I’ve always wanted—it’s been someone like you.”
I was quiet for a while. Of course, I wanted it. Who wouldn’t? Priya was gorgeous. She was a joy to be around, sweet and considerate, with a sassy edge that came with intimacy. She was smart as a whip, able to see through my bullshit in class when none of the other students could, giving me a raised eyebrow: our secret signal.
“Why don’t we ease into it, try a few things, and see if you like it,” I finally answered, whispering huskily into her ear as my hand ran down her smooth belly.
“Sir, for now. Yellow for slow down, red for stop—does that work for you?”
“That works,” she said, eagerly. I ordered her out of bed, told her to turn on the lights. She obeyed immediately.
“Good girl. Squat down. Touch yourself.”
Again, she obeyed: lowering herself into the awkward position, she slid a hand down and began to rub her bare pussy, spreading her dark lips open to reveal her pinkness.
“Good. And don’t you dare think you’re going to cum any time soon.”
I watched her for a minute, our eyes locked as she touched herself, gasping and whimpering softly. I had already made her cum once and I was surprised at how fast she orgasmed.
She nodded, biting her lip, and ran a hand up to her breasts, stroking them softly.
She obeyed, digging her fingers into her flesh, whimpering. She was a natural, tugging at her brown nipples, shuddering in pain and pleasure.
“Yes, Sir. I’ve always liked it… rough.”
She didn’t answer for a second, moaning.
“Good,” I replied. I strode over to her, laying my hands on her for the first time since we had begun. I took
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