Vulnerability
I was lying face down on the hotel bed as he finished tying the rope around my ankles and firmly placed my hands in the crook of my back. Moments ago he’d fastened the muzzle tightly in place, and while the rope went on I tested the gag. As I indulged my oral fixation a few things came to mind: first, my legs were really tied – I wasn’t walking or running anywhere. Second, once my hands were bound I realized that I was effectively immobilized. Third, as I chewed on the gag I found that it was firmly held in place and filled my mouth such that, along with the TV noise, nobody outside the room could possibly have heard me make a sound. All this crystallized around two sudden realizations: I was completely helpless, and I was a little bit scared.
Usually when someone ties me up the bondage doesn’t feel as secure as it did in that particular moment. Maybe a rope is looped through a plant holder on the ceiling and could be yanked off with a strong pull. Perhaps my legs aren’t bound and I have room to kick and somehow protect myself. Often times a gag is loose enough that sound, speech, and even getting it out of my mouth is possible. This time it was clear to me that he was in control – end of story. The bondage was tight, but more importantly it was applied in such a way that exuded complete authority, complete knowledge of what he was doing. He was completely dominant, and I was completely in submission. All this instilled in me a genuine taste of fear.
For the record, fear and trust taste really good together.
At the suggestion of the president of my company today I watched a TED talk about the power of vulnerability. It’s twenty minutes long, but if you have the chance I highly recommend watching it. In the talk the speaker said her research found that people who feel “whole-hearted,” who feel that they are worthy of love from other people, are people who are willing to take risks. They are people who are willing to dive into something and say “I’m not sure if this will work out, but I’m willing to try.” Like the speaker I have a very difficult time putting myself in a place where I am vulnerable – I play it safe and don’t get myself into risky physical or emotional situations. Part of my recent growth has been to realize it’s okay to open up. It’s okay to ask questions which reveal something about my soul to strangers. It’s okay to take a chance on a new relationship with rules you’ve never tried before. If I don’t do these things, how can I possibly live with my whole heart?
He eventually decided that the rope on my wrists wasn’t going to work out. He flipped me over and, with my right arm pressed under his left side and my left arm held by his left arm, he began to play with me. Biting is one of his favorite activities, and I am really starting to enjoy it myself. Lying next to him helped me feel safe and helped me breathe through the pain in a way I haven’t before. The gag helped too as I felt free to vocalize as much as I wanted. After some time he pulled down my jeans and jock and started edging me. If I allowed my thoughts to stray for an instant, maybe to how great the muzzle felt on my face, I’d almost blow my wad. I kept trying to say through the gag “I’m about to cum.” Later he told me he didn’t know what I was saying, but I was making some pretty neat sounds. As I’d try to say something muffled he’d think “that’s right, bitch.”
One thing led to another and we eventually turned off the light and curled up together. Even though I wanted to I didn’t sleep with the muzzle on as I actually needed to get some shut eye. I was still in sub-space and remember sighing contentedly as we laid together. I loved how my head felt resting on his chest, how I was naked and he was not, how morning would come and we’d go to church together. I felt physically vulnerable but, more importantly, emotionally vulnerable. I think that is what really makes the difference.
That, and having a face stuffed full of gag. =)
