First time in subspace
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Posted:Feb 15, 2021 7:52 pm
Last Updated:Oct 17, 2021 6:29 am
12923 Views
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Subject: First time in subspace
Edited: March, 2020
Written: March, 2007
Happened: August 2006
I met Rob online and liked him a lot. We met for coffee. He said he wasn't dominant, but liked explore rope bondage. He had never tied someone in r/l. We agreed that no sex would be involved. This first time we met, we didn't even take our clothes off.
I went his place. We probably spoke a bit first, but we already had the foundation of our friendship from talking online. I've always enjoyed bondage, but considered it somewhere get as quickly as possible. I thought rope seemed slow put on, and leather cuffs seemed easier and faster. I'd never been tied with rope before. Was I in for a surprise.
He asked me sit in a hard backed wooden chair. He began by tying my hands beside me. He wrapped rope around each wrist and then the chair. was a very comfortable position for a first tie.
He was also very into gags. I like being gagged, and had a rubber bit gag that I didn't like much but had used before. I hadn't played in a while, and I was about to find out that I was ready to go to some pretty different places than I had before. When I'd played before it was mostly a bit of flogging at a local club, but I had never explored the psychological sub dynamic extensively, and had never gone into subspace, or whatever you would this place I was about find.
He stuffed my mouth with a small beanbag, and wrapped non-sticky bondage tape over it. After he tied off the tape, he put his head near the side of my head. I could hear his breathing in my ear. He touched the tape, clearly fascinated. His touch felt so smooth against the tape. He was fascinated and excited by the gag, and this fed my excitement. He took my hair in his hands, and that's when i went into subspace for the first time.
I tend to worry. I'm always trying to figure out what I should be doing, or could be doing different, or want to do differently next time. I say it's like 's a hamster on a wheel in my head. I had no idea that being bound and gagged would get the hamster off that wheel, but did. That hamster went sleep, and was like a euphoria for me. Being bound and gagged, wasn't any way for me control what was happening, unless I wanted indicate was a problem. Other than that, was out of my hands. What a relief. I had no idea this would be my reaction, and I'm not sure I'd ever felt the hamster go sleep before this. My head just rolled, and I didn't care how silly I looked. I was in a blissful place.
must have gone on for a couple of hours. He tied ropes around my torso. He tied ropes around my breasts and behind my neck. He got down on the ground and tied my ankles apart to the chair legs. He put more ropes around my torso. Each piece of rope going on, made feel more safe and secure, and took deeper. He'd stop and touch my face, touch the gag, kiss the tape, touch the ropes and if they were too tight. I just watched his eyes. I'm very shy, and rarely right into people's eyes. In this situation, it gave me a high to into his eyes, to be really present with him, to know he was in control, to know he was turned on by me being immobile and unable to talk.
He moved to stand behind and touched my breasts. His touch was hard. He them, and reached down my dress pinch the nipples. was incredible feeling him all around me and not knowing what might happen next. Our limits were firmly in place, and I knew this person well enough know that wouldn't go into a genital sexual direction, which was what I needed. Our clothes never came off, although the top of my dress was loosened. (I actually ended up with large bruises, so we should have taken our clothes off.)
He began take the ropes off eventually, and I began cry. I didn't want leave that place, I wanted stay. He seemed know why I was crying, and said me was time for the ropes come off. Just as he'd slowly put them on, he slowly took them off, always remaining the one in control. One rope after the other, as I quietly cried. Afterwards he held me, and I helped wrap up his ropes. He showed me how to wrap different lengths of rope so they would stay neat in his bag, and this became a favorite thing for me to do as a thank you to him after each scene.
We explored rope bondage once a week for a while. Each time it was like that, the head-rolling subspace. Sometimes things would be silly, sometimes I'd struggle, sometimes it was uncomfortable, sometimes it was erotic. We got to where all he had to do was pull my hair and I'd go into that peaceful place. He claimed to the end that he wasn't really dominant, and that lack of pressure was one of the things that helped me let go. I have played since then and gone into subspace, but nothing has been as powerful or as much of a shock as that first time.
The ropes going on had been such a slow process. Each wrap had taken me deeper. I say was a bit like canoeing for me. Strange connection I know. When I was younger, I used go on canoe trips in the Boundary Waters of Minnesota for a week at a time. We'd put in where were people, and then for 3 days we'd head deeper into wilderness away from people and civilization. Each day, took you further away from any easy way to get out. The way out if was an emergency was request a helicopter, or canoe back out the way you had come. was the reason we were , get so far away from civilization, but at the time was sort of scary. The silence in was so deep was palpable. was just a bit of relief for me when we were in as far as we were going go, and started head back out. Rope bondage was like that for me.
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4
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Death's wings
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Posted:Feb 15, 2021 4:55 am
Last Updated:Feb 17, 2021 7:16 am
11492 Views
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I look at the buds still wrapped
on the ripening kernels. I want
to be in there, unhatched and unpolished.
—Shirley Kaufman, "Poem in November", Gift of Tongues
Death's wings
written January 10th, 2021
The Angel Death
wraps his wings around me
I feel him there
when I stop suddenly
Death's wings
jostling around me
settling into place.
He holds his breath
so I won't have that proof
of his presence
or any other
reassurance in this life.
Are his wings protection?
or curse?
Their silence wrapped around
is my well known company
these many years
Death's wings my comfort in life.
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4
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Lucky
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Posted:Feb 14, 2021 4:25 am
Last Updated:Mar 12, 2021 9:02 pm
10274 Views
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Lucky
written January 20th, 2021
"I've always been lucky," he says,
standing at his gate
talking this dirt road
"I survived an inoperable brain tumor, cancer
and they took one of my lungs,
but I had 2, so I'm fine.
Always been lucky."
He turns back to his home and dogs
rolling the gate shut behind him.
I am left to wonder
how does fate dispense luck?
Who gets it? What type? How much?
Is it years served?
arrests made?
women loved?
raised?
dogs cared for and buried?
I sit in my car and watch him walk
through the trees to the house he built
with plenty of room to turn around in
I see the inexorable path
the luck dispensed and choices made
that has brought him to this moment
he and his dogs
at the end of this dirt road.
If he could choose different luck
would he?
this man who has always been lucky.
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4
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Poems and people
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Posted:Feb 11, 2021 7:17 am
Last Updated:Feb 11, 2021 4:25 pm
10865 Views
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You hear
yourselves in them,
self after self
...
when I leave, I leave
alone, as I came.
—Denise Levertov, "Poet and Person", Gift of Tongues
Poems and people
started January th, 2021
Each morning I arrive
into this world anew
with a sigh and a memory
of day before day
self before self
that has tried to take up
permanent residence in this body
each one feeling right
until one morning it isn't.
This is my record of
poems and people
page after page after page.
At the end of the day
each one perches
on the edge of the night
to fly away alone into the dark.
I sleep and wait
to see who will arrive
with the morning.
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4
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Snowing up north
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Posted:Feb 6, 2021 5:09 am
Last Updated:Feb 7, 2021 4:22 pm
11564 Views
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Enter now,
O bird on the green branch of the dying tree, singing
Sing me toward home;
Toward the deep past and inalienable loss:
Toward the gone stranger carrying my
In the possible future
—Thomas McGrath, "Part One", Letter an Imaginary Friend
Snowing up north
Started February 2nd, 2021
They say is snowing up north
And I am back walking
over the roads I grew up on
the crunch of the snow
sings me home
past the fields
waiting spring planting
fence lines stretching off into the horizon
across the front yard
always needing mowing
now winter gives reprieve
up the front steps
mother's pansies growing riotously
ghosts from summers past
my fingers brush the doorbell
cats never learned to ring
now forever silent
I open the front door
and go into my memories
stepping on the black slate entryway
I wonder if his coat
is already in the closet or if
everyone is waiting for him to get home
in the kitchen
the table is set
the tea ready
this is the time
everything will be properly arranged
each talisman in the proper place
so the ghosts live here
will finally have
the longed for peaceful night
all of us keeping company
in these memories
that sing us home.
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5
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With each poem
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Posted:Feb 4, 2021 6:43 am
Last Updated:Feb 5, 2021 9:34 am
10878 Views
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With each poem
written February 4th, 2021
I write
the same poem
again and again.
There are
slightly different words
but it is always
the entirety of my life
that I write
with each poem.
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6
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Weft and warp
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Posted:Feb 2, 2021 7:12 am
Last Updated:Feb 19, 2021 5:19 am
11056 Views
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Weft and warp
started January 22nd, 2021
The cloth is woven
weft and warp
twigs and twine
bits and pieces
gaps and flaws
make the fabric
of my life.
I try to worry out
the threads that I know
aren't right
the flaws that threaten collapse
yet have become
integral parts
of the weft and warp
that is me.
I smooth this cloth
with my worn hands
then fold it up
and put it away
to work on
another day.
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5
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Precious gems
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Posted:Jan 31, 2021 4:35 pm
Last Updated:Feb 18, 2021 7:27 pm
11387 Views
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Precious gems
started January th, 2021
Sometimes I think of
poems and people
misplaced lost missing gone
they live on
as gems in
my heart
tumbled smooth
by the turbulence
of my frantic love
each a precious
polished stone
ruby labradorite jade peridot
nightly before I sleep
I kiss them each one
so they will have sweet dreams.
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3
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Turn on the lamp
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Posted:Jan 26, 2021 8:20 am
Last Updated:Jan 29, 2021 3:45 am
11266 Views
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Turn on the lamp
started January 13th, 2021
Turn on the lamp
for the end of the day
is near
Turn on the lamp
let the light
warm this page
Turn on the lamp
and let go
the worries of day
Turn on the lamp
there is nothing fear
from the coming night
Turn on the lamp
that is your heart
tonight you are enough.
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6
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Planting words
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Posted:Jan 24, 2021 8:45 am
Last Updated:Jan 29, 2021 3:45 am
10878 Views
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Planting words
written December 26th, 2020
Each day
I plant words
eager see
what they will grow into.
Some sit as seeds
buried at the back of my notebook
jostling against each other
drunk on their own potential.
Some get lost in the wind
gone before they can be grasped,
someone else will catch them
and plant them deep in distant soil.
Some are so bitter
they burn through the page
leaving ash as their only record.
Some form themselves sweet
into orderly patterns
ready to be released
into the world.
Some days it seems right
to polish those planted before
that only now
have started sprout.
Today what will you plant
with your ? love? attention?
I watch to see
what you will grow.
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3
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Tendrils twining
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Posted:Jan 21, 2021 12:52 pm
Last Updated:Jan 25, 2021 9:16 pm
11170 Views
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Will sunflower turn us, will clematis
Stray down, bend us, tendril and spray
Clutch and cling?
—T.S. Eliot, "Burnt Norton" Collected Poems 1909-1962
Tendrils Twining
written January 21st, 2021
Tendrils twining
tightly around
pulling towards?
or away?
or apart into pieces?
wrapped tightly
by tendrils twining
these cherished treasures
I have been pulled into
resting here held safe
while the world builds around
over them and and us
until we are seen no more
known no more
remembered no more
tendrils twining
tightly around.
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3
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For you
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Posted:Jan 18, 2021 8:07 am
Last Updated:Feb 3, 2021 1:54 pm
9164 Views
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but you dart through future
which memory
your boys voice shouting out
remainder of poems
of which I know
simply beginnings
—Carolyn Kizer, "For Sappho/After Sappho," Gift of Tongues
For you
written January 18th, 2021
My future self
I want you to have
songs in your heart
and your tongue.
I need to see you
darting through future
boldly singing chanting screaming crying
that today are unimagined and unborn.
Beginnings are anything but simple
but for you to be comfortable
having a voice
I have to start today.
So I write these
which feel so inadequate
forcing myself
not be mute
for you.
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8
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This silence
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Posted:Jan 10, 2021 1:00 pm
Last Updated:Jan 22, 2021 6:21 pm
8396 Views
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"Silence is the only common language." - James Baldwin
This silence
started December 26th, 2020
Our days are filled with words
words around us and on us
words that embrace and pierce
words comprehensible and strangely made.
Among all this chaotic cacophony
sits each of us with our own words
spoken and unspoken
understood and not understood.
Now it is the frayed evening
and the one thing I can offer
is to listen to your words,
to bless them in my own way
like the abbot at compline
in the monastery dark and deep.
Then we both will part
into the silence of the night
the silence that surrounds us in the womb
and greets us when we cross over at our ending
this silence which is
our only common language.
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5
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