Thursday, March 23, 2017

Kiss, Suspended, Witnessed ( #BDSM #Rope #Suspension )

by Annabeth Leong

I once watched a woman get tied up for a low suspension. Her lover pulled her in close, stripped her slowly, and led her to lie facedown under the frame. Softly, touching her with the rope as gently as he did with his fingers, he tied her hands, feet, torso, hips. Then he lifted her, just a little, so she hung, spread-eagled, only a few inches off the ground.

He settled below her, still fully clothed, and began to make her swing, using light pushes on her shoulders or her hips. As she swung, her body brushed against his. He reached up sometimes to tease her nipples or caress her side. He lifted his head to kiss her, then pushed her away to swing again.

It was one of the most erotic scenes I’ve ever witnessed, intimate rather than virtuosic, executed with skill but not for skill’s sake. I still think sometimes about that gentle, sexy swinging, the low light, the music of the party.

I’ve had only one experience with being suspended myself. Suspension wasn’t something I particularly sought out. I’d heard for such a long time about “flying” on the ropes, though, that when I found myself at a bondage party with a woman I trusted to hoist me up that way, I agreed to give it a shot.

We had only just started dating, and I was so hungry for her touch that the main thing I remember was the way I shivered every time her fingers brushed me. I stripped down to a camisole and tights, and she gradually assembled a variety of harnesses (which are used to distribute weight more evenly).

The actual experience of being suspended, however, was anticlimactic for me. She spun me around a bit—which I didn’t like for the same reason I don’t like the tilt-a-whirl. She tried hanging me upside down for a little while, but pretty much as soon as the blood rushed to my head I wanted to come down.

I might have different feelings if pain had been involved in that scene. If the idea of it had been to suspend me like a fly in a spider’s web and hit me with stinging evil sticks while I well and surely couldn’t get away, I’d probably have been more turned on. But if you add pain to just about anything, I’m interested, so that’s not a very strong argument for suspension. I’ve seen plenty of people, though, who chase suspension for its own sake, and I’ll leave it to them.

Though, if they let me, I do like to watch them swing.

8 comments:

  1. I have a low suspension story that was set to audio in "Surprising Myself", an anthology of first time experiences. Though I don't have any experience to draw on.

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    1. I'm sure you used your vivid imagination to good effect!

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  2. It does seem as though blood rushing to one's head would tend to limit the blood flow to other significant parts, which wouldn't be a plus. On the other hand, I've never understood how severe breath play, like hanging almost to the point of unconsciousness, enhances sexual pleasure, but I have it on good authority that it does. So what do I know?

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    1. Breath play is on my own list of hard limits. But I've been to cons where it seemed like I was quite in the minority. I do think you're right to relate the sensations. I think some people like the "head rush" feeling and find it stimulating.

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  3. I've never seen suspension, much less experienced it. I appreciate the photos I've seen mostly from an aesthetic perspective.

    And I agree about breath play. Totally squicks me!

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    1. I think it's worth seeing in the flesh if you're interested. It's very cool to watch a suspension get constructed.

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  4. This is an interesting take on the topic, Annabeth. Breath play sounds like something that should be a hard limit for everyone who is not an expert, or playing with an expert. Among the many legends from the world of popular music is the one about Brian Epstein, the Beatles' first manager, who is said to have died as a result of breath play that went too far. :(

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    1. Yeah... Agreed. But it seems (unscientifically, anecdotally) quite common in the kink communities I've been part of.

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