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Still bondage and a vibe in her cunt, but here her breasts are bound and a wire trailing away from the stump of the dildo suggests a remote control somewhere outside the frame. In the viewer's hand, perhaps?
The starting point of bondage is restraint. It frightens a lot of people because of the association with torture and truly degrading acts such as slavery, but used with respect it can unlock powerful emotions that lead to tremendous orgasms. Part of the effect is based on the symbolism of submission, but their is something beyond symbolism that feeling helpless to stop the pleasure pouring into you triggers.
An excellent method to restrain a person is a set of cuffs, which happen to be my favorite for tickling games. For some people, however, there is another level to the experience of bondage, the sensation of tightness. Tight fitting clothes can produce a similar reaction, and may be part of the reason why skin tight jeans are considered sexy. Some devotees of tightness prefer that course, satisfying their need through corsets or even constructing special garments never intended to be worn in public which incorporate corset-like closures which draw the garment extremely tight all over the body.
My very first infatuation with clothes used to enhance tickling involved dresses with sashes attached at the sides and tied in back. I suspect that this style has a practical side, as it allows a young girl's dress to fit as she grows, but to my young and feverish mind it seemed as if the only reason they were there was to allow the front of the dress to be pulled tight over the girl's belly. Just thinking about a girl walking around in a silk dress made me dizzy with excitement because of my belief that the silk would feel delightfully ticklish, but when I fantasized about tickling them I always pictured myself re-tying the sash, pulling it so tight that the fabric covering her belly was at the verge of splitting. That simple act became a ritual. I liked to imagine that I talked my playmate into being tied up as a part of a game, like pirates. When I began to untie her sash she would react with a desperate plea, begging me not to strip her naked. I would laugh and assure her that was not my plan. It was when I pulled the sash so tight she could hardly breath that she realized what I had in store for her, because she already knew how unbearable it was to be tickled that way. Even before I reached out so run my fingers over the taught silk she was begging me not to tickle her.
Tightness almost disappeared from my thoughts about tickling girls as my focus shifted more towards clothes that felt ticklish to wear. It was movement that I looked for, and for years the centerpiece of my tickling fantasies were accordion pleated skirts made of cold, hard fabrics. Tightness returned when I was smitten by slinky bell bottom pants (see The Bell Bottoms Sighting). The combination of tightness through the hips and especially the cunt with the swirling motion of the lower leg made bell bottom pants the ideal tickling garment. I still find the image of tickling a woman by lightly stroking the nylon jersey fabric pulled deep inside her labia a fantastic turn-on.
Tight clothes produce a sensation of tightness over a large area, whereas tight ropes or leather straps produce a more pinpointed sensation, and offer the added benefit of more nudity. A woman's breasts are more sensitive than most other parts of her body, but I suspect that the extra zing that breast binding generates has a lot to do with the intimacy they symbolize. The artist has added a nice touch, the bindings around the woman's arms connected to the ropes that bind her breasts, so that as she struggles the movement will draw the breast bindings even tighter.
I also like the satin sheets, but I hope I do not sound like a nit-pick by pointing out that her earrings are a bad idea. Clip-ons could come off and slide under her, causing the kind of pain that ruins a session like this. Pierced earrings should never be worn during extreme sex play, as they might get caught and make a big, bloody mess.
Sandy Beach
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