What I Experienced During My First Bondage Session

bdsm session

When I was a teenager, my curiosity about sex was at an all-time high. If a woman walked by wearing a low-cut shirt, my mind would explode. When I’d go to the beach, half-naked women would flood the area, and I’d spend most of my time trying to calm myself. I was young, shy, and full of fresh testosterone, spending my days learning how to control it. But my self-discipline soon ended after accidentally coming across some bondage videos.

 

My nights were usually the same, one after the other. After my parents would go to bed, I would grab my phone and slide under the covers to explore the world of porn. While my friends were busy masturbating to music videos of Katy Perry or Nicki Minaj, I was one step ahead of them. I did this every night; however, I usually stuck with my standard porn videos. I’d warm up with some girl-on-girl action, work my way through a couple of squirting videos, and end with anal play. With every video, my eyes became bigger, and my imagination wilder. I didn’t want to change the routine, why would I? I slept like a baby every night and woke up feeling revived and excited about what the next night held. I found my sexual outlet and wasn’t about to change it for anything or anyone.

 

One night, I was doing my usual routine when I accidentally pressed the screen of my phone, leading me onto a section of the website I never saw before. At the top of the page, it wrote, “Bondage.” Underneath were videos of women and men being handcuffed, tied up, and gagged. At the time, I had no idea what this was.

At first, I was terrified and quickly turned off my phone. What the hell was that? I thought to myself. The most scandalous thing I saw online was squirting or facial cum shots, and for me, it was a big deal. But within seconds, the fear subsided, and I was back online, scrolling through bondage clips like it was my last day on earth. I was consumed, obsessed, and I knew it wouldn’t stop there.

 

Though my obsession with bondage continued, it wasn’t until a couple of years later when I decided to make my fantasy a reality. I was tired of watching other men fisting and eating out women who were tied to their beds or chairs. I wanted that guy to be me. After careful research, I discovered a BDSM community in my city, and I knew I had to join. But could a shy guy like me be able to handle a bondage session? I wasn’t so sure. I figured only alpha-type of guys were able to take on that role.

 

Online, I ended up chatting with a girl named Katie who was somewhat of an expert in bondage. I told her my experience with bondage, and she replied, “don’t worry, come over, and I’ll teach you everything you need to know.” Well, with an offer like that, refusing would have been rude.

 

I went over to her place for my first-ever bondage experience. And though I thought she was going to greet me in latex and tell me to do whatever I wanted, that’s not how it went. She sat me down on her couch and explained the rules I had to follow. Our safe word was goat. “We’re not going to go wild this time,” she said as she undressed. “You’re going to learn the basics and then next time, we can take it up a notch. Okay?” Was this what I wanted? No. I wanted what I saw in porn videos, but I knew I couldn’t rush the process.

 

She handed me a dog collar and leash, “let’s start with this.” I went behind her, locking it around her neck, while whispering, “you dirty, dirty slut.” She smiled mischievously. “Kneel on the edge of the bed,” I directed. She slowly moved to the bed, “faster!” I said, spanking her ass. For a split second, I was shocked at what I had done. Was that me? Did I just spank her ass as punishment? But my self-doubts quickly subsided; I felt liberated.

 

She was on all fours on the bed, with her ass fully exposed in front of me. With one hand grasping the leash, I pull it back, as I ate her ass. I could hear moaning from pleasure, “did I say you could moan?” She shook her head as her voice trembled, “ n-n-no you didn’t.” I pulled the leash a little harder, “turn around and suck my dick.” She quickly flipped around, grabbed my hard cock, and jammed it into her mouth. I wasn’t going to last much longer; in fact, I knew this session was going to be over faster than I wanted it to be. I couldn’t control myself, and after a couple of minutes, I came right into her mouth.

 

I was huffing as if I had just finished a marathon. “Fuck,” I said out of breath, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? It’s your first time, don’t worry about it.”

With my hands on my hips, I took a deep sigh.

“Did you like it?”

“Katie, it was amazing.” I wasn’t lying. Though it wasn’t what I had imagined, it opened something inside of me that had been locked away until that very moment.

“Just wait until next time,” she said as she winked at me.

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Hell’s Couture BDSM Club!

S&M Branding

So here I was for the first time going to the Hell’s Coture BDSM club and I didn’t know what to expect but was forewarned to expect the unexpected. It was Midnight on a Saturday night, I was rested up and did not have to go to work in the morning.  Tonight there was no holding me back. Before I left home I treated myself to something medicinal to help me get rid of any jitters or nerves and can tell you was in a state of low flying.  Was sitting back chilling in the back of the uber-cab having already given the driver the address with a bit of excitement of what was going to happen tonight.  We pulled up and I handed over a cash tip to the driver.

The building was as was described to me, an older goth style building all painted in black.  There was a queue at the front door but no signs or anything advertising what it was, just an illuminated street number.  Thankfully I had secured a very rare VIP pass that allowed me immediate entry and access to the top level of the club, reserved of course for VIPs or invited guests.  I was wearing all leather, what appeared to be long leather pants but were actually chaps that showed my ass only covered by a G-String.  The long leather trench-coat allowed me to wear the chaps in the public without fear of being arrested of taunted.  I had a pair of hell’s couture leather jocks under the chaps.

As I walked straight past the wannabes waiting in the queue I received stares from most either being pissed off that I was being let straight in, envious or wondering who the hell I was.  As soon as I passed by the bouncers the heat hit me, and as I walked further in I could see.  On the dance floor were an array of beauties, and not so beautiful people dancing and cavorting half naked.  Men in leather thongs, topless women and virtual garden of gor in suburbia. As I walked to the bar and ordered my first scotch and coke from the barely dressed barmaid what I took to be the manager of the club walked over to me.  He said as I was the first VIP in the club he wondered if I would participate in one of the five floor shows of the evening.  I inquired as to what that may be and he said that it involved Hellfire Black Leather and Fur Ankle Cuffs and the rest I would find out when I participated or watched.  I eagerly accepted and he asked him to come see him at 1am to be prepped.

With two hours to kill in my first BDSM club experience before the show I was now going to be a participant in it was time to explore this club.  With my inhibitions falling away considering the state of half dress the other customers were in, and also the downed scotch and coke doing their work I headed for the hat/coat stand.  As I handed the lass my Matrix style leather trench-coat she handed me a ticket which presented a slight problem.  My leather chaps did not have pocket nor did my leather harness.  Eventually I put the stub down the front of my hell’s couture jocks in my leather money pouch.

 

bdsm bar room

Then I went to the bar and to order another drink from the half-naked barmaid there who now happened to be fully naked.  Jeez she had a nice ass and as she turned around I realized that she was a shim and had one of the biggest packages I had seen on another human being.  Obviously this sweet transvestite must have been doing some penis extension exercises as surely this could not be natural on another human being.

So now armed with my fresh scotch and coke I headed to the VIP Entrance where the precious badge was flashed and the chain allowing access up the stairs was opened for me to ascend.  The stair walls were covered with thick red velvet curtains and if possible was darker than the club itself. As I topped the stairs I noticed the walls again were painted black and a long corridor with rooms off to each side confronted me.  At the end of the corridor was a bar where a few people congregated.  In the walls of the corridor were torches that must have been lit with gas but still gave the hallway a goth dungeon style feel to it. As I looked into the first room off to my left I saw a man restrained by his hands and neck by wooden stocks.  I could only see him from the back and he was in a kneeling position with a bench or similar pressed up against his thighs and his stomach also supported by it.  Two women behind him were striking him in turn using sanna whips.  They loudly chastised him and yelled profanities at him.   Behind the two girls were two bench seats each capable of holding ten people but there were only 8 people occupying them intently watching this degradation.

The women were both dressed in black shiny vinyl with cat’s tails and wore cat masks.  They looked ubber sexy but the words that came out of their mouths made it clear that neither was a puss in boots and not to be treated likely.  These divine mistresses were masters at humiliation and with each strike of their whips, and each degradation the man’s body slumped further and further ensuring that no air of demeanor or pride remained and he was truly dominated. After seeing this I became excited by the prospect of discovering what were in the other rooms.. and more importantly what the show I was to appear in at 1am was all about.

So after seeing the dominating mistresses humiliate their slave and with 90 minutes still to kill I walked to the next door and had a look inside. The room was similarly fit out with two bench chairs capable of seating about 20 people and this time just about all the seats were occupied.  The walls, although painted black were also covered in fluro graffiti that the black-lights made iridescent. Seated in front of these people was a woman with her hands and arms bound by Japanese bondage Ropes.  She was sitting reverse on a chair facing her audience with her huge breasts hanging over the back portion of the chair.  In front of the chair was a bench and which here tits lay.  Her tits were compressed in narrow barred tit press clamps that forced her swollen mammaries out and discolored them a reddish purple color.

In front of her stood a large man dressed in black Edwardian clothes.  He wore a dogs mask that concealed his identity.  The woman’s face however could be seen and although making no sounds I could see the sweat glistening from her brow and a far-away meditative look in her eyes.  I could hear her chanting softly to herself some sort of Chakra I would imagine but could not make it clearly out. The man then brought a metal tray with a number of different sized syringes and before my eyes I saw him pierce the nipple with the smallest of the syringes.   To my surprise the woman did not cry out but instead seemed to exhale deeply almost sounding like a tyre deflating.  Although never having practiced breast or nipple torture on myself or another I had heard about it.

leath cat mask woman

Going back I seemed to recall that with breast torture and nipple sex some men and women actually found this pleasurable due to the large amounts of endorphins and adrenaline being released.  Contrary to what I would have thought would have been the doms pleasure in inflicting pain practicing this BDSM fetish play, subs in many cases enjoyed it too.  That certainly seemed to be the case here.  Talk about extreme nipple sex. I watched the man now bring out a larger syringe from his surgical tray and the woman actually started to smile.  Although very curious as to what would happen next I am a bit squeamish when it comes to blood and decided to move on.  With just over an hour left now before the show that I was to participate in, I adjusted my hells couture jock strap and continued on down the hallway wondering what was going to confront me in the next room.

Without knowing what would be in the next room after seeing tit torture and public humiliation and degradation in the other I peered into the third room.  The room this time had the bench seats at the rear and either side.  At the front of the room was a cauldron that was filled with hot coal embers and on top of these embers was a branding iron.  To the side of the cauldron was bucket containing ice and water. In front of this was a lady kneeling on the kneeler of a pew type device that allowed her hands to be tied in front of her on the back rest.  She was a beauty that looked a bit like a fish out of water in this place wearing Ella Bidoe black cotton panties and bra with red stiletto’s.  She had long flowing black hair, dark eyes, the most delicate pale skin and legs that went on forever. Tending the fire and the branding iron was a muscular man wearing leather pants and hat.  I noticed that the walls appeared to be marked with what appeared to be symbols that I recognized to be tags.

The man then walked over to the woman and said, ‘Simone.  I Mark, being the dominant, ask your consent to allow me to place my brand permanently on your body forever marking you as my property.  Do you consent?”

She said, ‘Yes, willingly.”

The dom said, ‘As I brand your body with my tag I promise to love and care for you.  This tag will become a permanent mark of our bond to each other.”

She said, “I love you Mark”.

He said, “I love you to Simone.  We shall proceed.’

 

leather mouth gag

He then placed a hell’s couture bit gag in her mouth so that she could bite down on it when the branding started.  Mark then removed her black panties revealing that she wore a G-String underneath.  He then put on a leather glove that would allow him to hold the branding iron without getting burnt which he then did.  With the other hand he brought the bucket with ice in it and placed it beside her. Slowly and carefully he then moved the red hot brand to the right cheek of her sensual bottom.  As soon as the brand touched her skin smoke began to come out and a sizzling sound like a steak on a bbq was made.  Simone moaned and after about 10 seconds that felt like 30 minutes he removed the branding iron from her rump.  After he placed the branding iron safely on the cauldron he took some ice from the bucked and started to rub it on the burn that was now on her skin.

The tag was red but clearly I could see the letter M with another letter T being superimposed on it.  Probably these were the initials of Mark.  Mark was checking to see if Simone was ok, and then tearfully but with a smile she said, “I love you more than anything else Mark’.

Mark released her hands and they both kissed passionately.

I was totally enthralled by this exchange before my eyes – it was such a bonding and personal experience that I was having the fortune to share with this couple and the 30 or so onlookers that occupied the seats.  Although not official it was like a wedding ceremony only to me rather than exchange some wedding rings that could be removed afterwards this expression of love would last forever. I looked at the watch and realized that more than 30 minutes had passed and my show time would soon commence.  I vowed not to look in any rooms and head straight to the VIP bar for a drink before going downstairs for the 1am show I was to participate in.

After just witnessing a human slave tagging I really felt I needed a drink. Regardless of how great I felt about the whole commitment thing it had taken a lot out of me. So without looking to either side I headed straight to the VIP bar so as not to be side tracked by what may be occurring in any of those other rooms. It had become apparent to me that this club had very few boundaries save that anything happening must be consensual. So at the bar I ordered my double Jack and coke when this glamour sidled up beside me. A glamour with long straight brunette hair sidled up beside me – the first thing I noticed was the smell. It was intoxicating somewhere between a ripe rose and fragrant jacaranda.

She said, ‘How you doing tiger? My name’s Cynthia. I hear you are the opening entertainment.’

I was already feeling nervous and having second thoughts about agreeing to participate in the first show of the evening – without know what part I was to play. Now my heart jumped into my throat and was beating at a hundred miles an hour.

I stammered, ‘Yeah, how did you know. What’s it all about?”

She said, ‘Relax, it will all be fine. I am in it too. I just wanted to sit down with you for a few minutes. Get to know you, you get to know me so we are comfortable with each other and the whole situation.’

I sighed, ‘That would be great’.

So we chatted for what seemed 10 seconds but in reality turned out to be close to half an hour. In that time I noticed that at the VIP bar clothing was optional and many members were in various states of dress and undress. Cynthia was as I said gorgeous. She was about 5 feet 8 inches tall, slender build, she was wearing a sequin black top but with lace see through bits and her dark nipples were upright with the areola like saucers of chocolate milk. Her thighs were silken and appeared oiled with panties of sequin at front and sheer see through nylon at back. Her ass was as tight as an accountant’s purse and had my cock strung as tight as a banjo string from her opening line. Finally I was at ease as to the show that was about to occur, luckily so as over the speaker came a voice

’10 minutes to SHOWTIME!!!’

Cynthia grabbed me by the hand as I downed my second Jack and coke and said, ‘Come this way it is time to get prepped’.

She led me down a rear stairwell and down into a room at the bottom of the stairs. The room had a long couch, a number of chairs and mirrors and a large cabinet. She opened the cabinet door and brought out a set of fur lined leather ankle and wrist restraints as she said , ‘Courtesy of hell’s couture’.

With that she knelt down in front of me and began placing the ankle restraints tightly to my ankles. As she was doing that a sexy blonde in white lingerie entered the room.

Cynthia said, ‘This is Isabella, she is my girlfriend and wants to be part of the show. Hope you don’t mind.”

Mind, hell no I thought as my banjo string just about twang. ‘Sure.’ I said,

Isabella started to tighten the wrist restraints tightly against my wrists and just as the last buckle was done out, almost on cue, I heard – ‘ITS SHOWTIME’.

So..finally the time had arrived with the calling out ‘It’s Showtime’ from Hell’s Couture. With my wrist and ankle cuffs secured I was led center stage in front of a few hundred onlookers in this BDSM club. What had I let myself in for. As I looked around I saw a device standing centre stage where I was being led.

As I tried to work out its function Isabella said to me, ‘Remember. Relax. Njoy the moment.’

 

bdsm wooden board club

It was then that I realized it was some form of Bondage Restraint Device. Second thoughts began to race through my mind. What the hell had I let myself in for. Isabella confidently grabbed my wrists one by one and attached them to a bar with my wrists securely tied approximately 3 feet apart. Isabella then raised this bar up causing my arms to extended upwards until they were standing vertically to the ground. She then lowered herself and moved a second bar which she then used to attach each of my ankle cuffs securely to it.

The MC then announced, ‘The moment you have all been waiting for. Lets hear if for Madame Cynthia’.

With this the crowd went wild and as I turned my head I saw the vision of beauty I had seen at the bar walking slowly towards me with a cunning smile on her face. It was the same woman but now she walked with an air of authority, of dominance, if I could I would have bowed down before her but I was in Hell’s Couture Restraints that were now attached to Metal bars attached to my wrists and ankles.

Cynthia said to me, ‘How you doing big boy? Still up for it?’

My lips moved but nothing came out. My heart was racing faster than Phar Lap and felt like it was going to come out my mouth. All I could manage was nod to the affirmative as I felt a cold sweat slowly cover my body. God, this was intense.

So without further ado she grabbed hold of a rope and as I looked up saw that it was attached to a pulley system fixed to the roof. As she pulled I felt pressure on my ankles and slowly my feet were being lifted from the ground backwards. With each pull my feet were being pulled backwards whilst my hands and upper body were being propelled forwards. Time seemed to slow down and what I know to be seconds felt like minutes until my body was perfectly horizontal to the ground. As my arms and legs were fully extended I found it difficult to move and even just trying to lift my head to the side I found difficult. I knew now that I was entirely at the mercy of Cynthia the mistress. As these thoughts came to my head Isabella appeared to my side and fitted a ball gag in my mouth secured by leather strapping to the rear of my head. It seems now I could not even speak or yell out. Having never been dominated before it really was turning out to be a night that was unexpected but would be remembered forever. Madame Cynthia came beside me and I struggled to lift my head when I heard a ‘Crack’ that I new to be from a stockman’s whip.

In a cold and calculated voice I heard her say to me, ‘Keep your head down or I will blindfold you as well.’

I took the crack of the whip to be a stern warning and knew that I was in no position to disobey so did as she willed. So with face towards the ground I saw in my peripheral vision the gorgeous legs of Cynthia beside me and then felt her gentle touch as she slowly and sensually rubbed what felt to be warm oil on my back. Gently she allowed her fingers to stroke up and down my back from the top of my G-Sting to the nape of my neck. It was delightful and sending sparkling shivers up and down my spine. A man could get used to this..

And just as I was getting totally relaxed, Whack – across my back. Lightning bolts, sparks and shivers exploded in my head like hells couture……  Is this what masochists must feel?  Suddenly the curtains drew and a sad but delightful crescendo began to sound. Its steady rhythm almost took the place of the massive surprise that had filled me. An audience sat before me waiting to see the performance Isabella, Cynthia and I would deliver. Now I was aware that I had volunteered to perform but I had been sheepish enough to assume it would be a private show. Naturally, I felt like an idiot lying on these Egyptian cotton sheets regaling in their soft sensation, restrained by my Hell’s couture cuffs. The Jack and coke from earlier kicked in, as if on cue, giving me a mighty sense of Dutch courage.

 

mistress handcuffs woman

Cynthia strutted her beautiful ass round the bed and the crowd applauded her. They too, no doubt were also appreciating her beauty. She was dressed in the lace top from earlier and sexy lingerie that went up to her thighs. Her ass was bare but it was clear she had worn a thong to highlight it. Isabella was dressed in a metal looking bra, a thong and sexy women’s stockings. Both of them were dressed in 6 inch Louboutin heels. Cynthia turned toward her lover and gave her a slight nod that did not mean much to me. Isabella walked casually to the bed and gave me a mighty slap across the face. I felt dazed. No woman, including the one who conceived me, had ever displayed physical aggression toward me in my life. I was in a momentary state of shock followed by a weird sensation of erotic episodes. She continued slapping me until I could not hold it any longer.

‘More!’ I screamed.

‘Stop! Like many things, pleasure is not given when it is demanded.’ Cynthia said.

I did not understand this statement and looked up at Isabella who had gone back to her prior position before the nod. I realized that Cynthia was in command here. She was the one calling the shots. Independent women are so sexy. My cock began to twang again demanding to be thrust into Cynthia. She bent over me and said ‘I make the rules. Got it?’.

‘Yes.’

‘yes what?’ she said while  slapping me. ‘

Yes, Madam!’

She proceeded to tell the audience how men in this world have the notion that they can control pleasure. Cynthia told them about how it has always been the woman’s job to control pleasure but the woman does not know this. All through her performance all I could think about was how cold I began feeling. I was naked dressed only in what Brad Pitt was wearing during Troy. I do not know if this kind of clothing has a name yet. The Hells couture cuffs felt tight. I don’t think I had ever been in handcuffs before. The suspension device cling to my body and it needed some getting used to. Bondage felt good. It felt, sexy. I heard applauding and it occurred to me that her speech was over. She opened a suitcase of some sort and took out a whip.

Cynthia ordered me to masturbate. I wondered how this was possible since I was in Hells couture cuffs. The longer I took to think about it the more I got whipped. The whips provided a sensation that was not more of pain but wanting. The more she whipped me the more I wanted and craved to whip her too. I began holding my cock and carrying on with the usual upward and downward movement. I was lost in the feeling of how good it felt to display this beautiful structure to total strangers. It felt amazing being watched. I had my eyes closed all along and opened them only when I realized someone had yanked them off my penis.

Isabella proceeded to kiss my cock and I began to cry out.

Every time I cried out Cynthia whipped me harder and I yelled ‘Yes Madam!’

Never had sexual intercourse been so intimate yet distant to me. No longer after, Cynthia came closer and began to kiss my hair. I did not know why this was necessary really because I was already building from what Isabella was doing to me.

‘I’m coming’, I said in a quiet moan.

‘Stop!’ Cynthia ordered Isabella. ‘There is no room for coming here’, she said to me in a whisper.

 

brunette lady whip

She whipped me and I began to cry out, ‘I am going to punish you so bad’. Cynthia stared at me. I could see her erect nipples through that lace top she was wearing. Isabella was still wiping her mouth while staring at my cock. I could tell she liked it. She wanted it too. Cynthia began to un-cuff me from the Hell’s couture cuffs leaving my legs suspended to the bed.

‘Show me what you’re made of’, she said.

I pulled Isabella closer to the bed and ordered her to kiss Cynthia – there. It was so erotic to watch both of them and I stroked my cock but I knew it wanted only one thing. I told Isabella to stop her  beautiful assault of Cynthia and told Cynthia to climb on my cock. She did so slowly and I could tell she felt wonderful having my penis thrust into her. This was my time to shine. I began to smack her ass repeatedly as pressure continued building within me. I was not going to let myself fall short from the threat I had just made to Cynthia. I looked at the crowd for a moment and could see that they were pleased. I pulled out of Cynthia and thrust my middle finger into her ass.I looked at her and could see that she was pleasantly surprised.

She moaned out ‘ Master!!’ which drove me wild.

I began to feel like I was on a mission which was to give this girl an orgasm she had never experienced in her life. I ordered her to take off my leg restraints and the suspension device. I watched her hurriedly do so. She was, by no doubt, eager to please. I could see little beads of sweat trickling from her face and slowly make their way toward her eyes. My God she had beautiful eyes. Was this woman really beautiful everywhere? I ordered Isabella to make love to Cynthia on the Egyptian sheets. I watched them while stroking my cock again. Isabella was so determined while performing this act of ‘love’ toward her girlfriend. Her face never twitched and I began to wonder if this was her first time too. Cynthia had been so confident up to this point it was difficult imagining that this had been her first time. I smacked Isabella’s ass. She had a beautiful round ass. I had wanted to smack it since I first saw it in the prepping room.

I thrust myself into Isabella’s ass and she screamed out. In that moment, I could not tell whether she was experiencing pain or pleasure but by the look on her face, she did not mind what she was feeling. I yanked myself into that round smack able ass and began moaning too. I held Cynthia’s breasts surprised that her nipples were still erect. She had such beautiful nipples. Cynthia was crying out too. I was sure she had reached her orgasm. I felt proud and I could see her trying to hide her smile. She held on to the soft Hells couture cuffs. She was rubbing them gently to feel that soft, brown cotton.

I was slowly building ‘higher…faster no more!’ as my spunk flew from my cock into her wet pussy. I collapsed on Isabella’s back and we all lay there on each other satisfied, the curtains closed and thunderous applause followed. 

 

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