Memories of Cuffing Past

This past Kink of the Week prompt was handcuffs. The real sort: metal, locking, not leather or rope cuffs. And yes, if you go the website you’ll see the image above – me in handcuffs – used for the prompt.

When Molly asked if she could re-use that image to illustrate the prompt (it was a KOTW prompt before), I had a moment’s hesitation. That image is from one of the very first scenes W and I did, and the image brought it all back. But to my surprise, it wasn’t painful to remember. Maybe I’ve finally moved to a place where I am glad I have all these memories of the magic we made. Anyway, it was a full day of play. We went from scene to scene throughout the day, and during it all I was handcuffed. By the end I had raw spots on my wristbones.

But it was what I had asked for.

W knew how unforgiving handcuffs are. I’ll never understand how they became such an ubiquitous emblem of BDSM play, because the majority of kinky folks I know won’t play with them for that very reason. W didn’t either, as a rule. Oh he had them in his arsenal of kinky toys, and he definitely liked the punitive look and feel of them, but in general they were just too punishing, even for him (and that was saying somethingo.)

But I wanted to try them. My ex and I had never played with them, and I hadn’t played with anyone else in a scene that they felt appropriate, or like they would be more than a prop, but with W, I knew I’d get my money’s worth.

And I did.

They weren’t a toy, in his hands. And when I said I wanted to be cuffed the whole day, he made sure I understood what I was asking for by putting them on me for a short “trial,” after which he said only calling “red” would get him to remove them.

He did move my hands around, cuffing me behind my back for awhile as he used various implements on me – and after an initial, involuntary, and very painful twist of the wrists in them, I learned not to fight them. But even with very little struggling they are painful on the delicate flesh and bones of the wrist, and he ended up bringing my hands around in front of me. Not really to go easy on me, but because he wanted to be able to push me around, to shove me down on the bed, to whip me and fuck me, without having to worry that I was crying out in the wrong kind of pain.

I will admit that the cold, unforgiving metal kept me in a unique headspace. Subjugated in a different way than when he used rope on me. The metal felt…disconnected… from him. Rope always felt like an extension of his will, of him; these felt cold, impersonal.

And yet that was exactly what I had wanted in the scene.

Bottoms aren’t the only ones that get to play out fantasies during BDSM play. W was also in a different headspace during our play with the cuffs. Harder; harsh and demanding in a way that he had not been before. The sight of me in the handcuffs did something in his head, too.

Will I ever play with handcuffs again? I honestly can’t see it happening. Rope cuffs? Maybe…as I wrote this post I remembered how much I do like to be restrained. But probably not by steel, if it’s something I get a say in.


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