Bondage Blog

The latest column from Mistress Matisse contains an interesting interview with Lochai, the well-known rope bondage rigger who recently got hired to be the new director of Hogtied.com. Talk about a dream job! (Except, well, not my dream job, exactly; I am astonished by the precision of visually excellent bondage, but I don’t have the patience to do the stuff myself. My ropes are always sloppy, and I’m quick to reach for the cuffs and the snaps. I wouldn’t want that job — despite its many awesome features! — because I would suck at it, and that’s never fun.)

Interview Excerpt:

What have people’s reactions been like when you told them?

I got a lot of “fuck you, I’m so jealous!” But seriously, my friends and family have been 99 percent positive. Only one person said he was disappointed that I chose to do porn. I’m just glad I’ve been out to my parents for years—this is a blessing in their eyes, because I’ll finally be getting paid for what I love to do. My rabbi even collects my photography.

Of Mistress Matisse. Sometimes it’s the little things that make one smile:

Sunday we spent quietly at home, although Max had kindly allowed a certain young lady to borrow our dungeon for the afternoon, as she had a scene planned with a curious-about-bottoming female friend. So occasionally a muffled yelp would float up the stairs to our ears. Charming.

Mistress Matisse made me laugh with her explanation of the fun of orgasm denial:

Traveler expressed willingness to cede control of his cock to me for duration of the trip, and I’ve enjoyed having that. Whether he can be said to have truly enjoyed having his cock locked up this long, with the ensuing orgasm denial, is somewhat open to interpretation. But I’m choosing to view it that he has, in his kinky way. Pleasure deferred can be pleasure increased, you know. (At least, you know, for other people.)

Mistress Matisse has written a great column on the distinction between wanting hot BDSM sex and “being a slave”. When people tell her they want to be someone’s slave, she asks them why:

The word “slave” is not just a generic term for any kinky person who likes to be the one wearing the handcuffs. But the answers I often get indicate to me that this is not well understood. Most of the time, people respond to my question by telling me about their desire for sex and intense stimulation. It’s the erotic fantasy of the bondage, of beautiful, threatening people in sexy outfits wielding nipple clamps and dildos.

Those are all hot things. I like them myself. But wanting to experience those things doesn’t make you a slave. I do BDSM with lots of people, but I would not call any of them “my slave.” (Nor would most of them want me to.)

To BDSM people, being a slave means undertaking an ongoing relationship of voluntary servitude to another person—a master or a mistress. The key word here is “relationship.” Saying you want to be a slave so you can do BDSM all the time is like saying you want to get married so you can have hot sex all the time. It’s not that it never works that way, but just as marriage is about much more than just sex, being a slave is about more than just doing BDSM scenes. And just as not everyone who has sex wants to get married, not everyone who wants to get tied up and spanked really wants to be a slave—no matter how hot the idea seems right before an orgasm.

Read the whole thing, it’s worth your time.

Lots of bondage-loving pervs enjoy the fantasy of a good kidnap scene. The trouble is, it’s tricky and dangerous to play that game, even when everybody involved is all for it, for a variety of practical reasons. (See here for a fairly long list of them, courtesy of Mistress Matisse). If knife-wielding butch lesbians don’t convince you, you can’t be convinced:

I was at a party with a large group of kinky lesbians. It was getting late and people were starting to trickle out, when suddenly we all heard, from outside the house, a woman’s piercing scream. Now, if you hang around the kink community you hear some screams now and then, and one learns to interpret their various meanings. This was not a happy scream—this was a scream that clearly indicated something bad was happening.

Everyone instantly poured out into the street to find one of the guests—struggling and still screaming—being pulled toward a car by two men. I don’t have to tell you how three dozen BDSM dykes—many of whom are in the habit of carrying knives—are going to respond to such a situation. Seeing a swarm of outraged Valkyries descending on them with violent reprisal clearly on their minds, the two guys let go of the woman, threw their hands in the air and yelled, “It’s just a scene! It’s a kidnapping scene!”

It’s hard to explain yourself coherently when you’re pinned against a car with a large, pissed-off butch pressing her elbow down on your throat, but gradually the would-be kidnappers managed to convince us that what we were seeing really was part of an agreed-upon kidnapping scene between two women. The problem was that the top had decided to add a bit of spice to the game by having her two male friends do the initial grab, and not knowing the kidnappee personally, they’d grabbed the wrong woman.

Oopsie!

Mistress Matisse has written a column listing eighteen things kinky people should know. I’m particularly fond of these few:

10. Sorry, “dominant” does not equal “license to be an asshole.” All ordinary social conventions about good manners still apply to you.

11. Don’t announce, loudly and often, that you’d never, ever do kinky activity X because it’s so icky. The Higher Powers of BDSM have a sense of humor, and if they hear you, they will visit you with persistent erotic visions of that precise activity until you give in to it. Your merciless friends will take great pleasure in making you eat your words when you admit your new favorite kink. A gentle, “I don’t think that’s for me” is sufficient for most purposes.

…

18. If your submissive takes a light smack on the butt as a cue to begin Primal Scream therapy, you should invest in gags. Lots of them.

Mistress Matisse writes:

It’s nice when you have cute girls delivered, bound and gagged and blindfolded, to your door. It’s even nicer when cupcakes come with them.

Unfortunately UPS doesn’t provide this service.

Unfortunate, indeed!