Powerotics BDSM

The Powerotics BDSM member information about bondage has been updated with a lot of useful information about using tape for bondage purposes.

Using tape for bondage or gagging purposes appeals to many. Very likely because it is something you get to see a lot in porn pictures and movies.

The most frequently used tape - not only for pictures but in real BDSM life as well - is duct tape. That is the metallic looking, broad, very sticky and very strong tape. In the video production world it is also known as “gaffer tape” and used to tug away cables. Duct tape is actually NOT suitable for bondage and gagging purposes, for several reasons. The main problem is the glue. This will always be some heavy duty industrial adhesive, not developed for use on the skin. It almost always contains toxic materials that may cause allergic reactions and quite often breathing problems. Also, removing the tape may cause skin damage and in general is very painful.

Actually, there are much better and safer options.

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The prisoner was not a child to be easily cajoled. She managed a wry grin of recognition but protested: “All right, I accept. But it’s the same either way for me… I’m still tied up.”
“Thank you, darling. It’s so good that you’re sensible.” The Headmistress seemed genuinely relieved. “You see, I like you.”
“Don’t you like all your pupils?” The query came naturally.
“No, not as I do you. We’re all different, y’know.”
“Miss Carruthers, I’m lost! I’m talking to you as an equal… and you’re talking to me… I mean, you’re the Headmistress and I’m… I suppose I’m one of the girls, aren’t I? Shouldn’t I address you in some formal way?”
“I’m not formal, Sharon. I never was. Here’s some possibilities to pick from.” Miss Carruthers was laughing again. “You can call me darling, or Mistress, or Miss Carruthers. Or you can call me Chartreuse. Chartreuse is
actually my name. My father was addicted to the liqueur, and my mother adored the colour. I’ve never been sorry. I think it suits me.”
“But how can I choose! They’re all…”
“Don’t! Not now. Let things happen. You’ll settle on a favourite. That’s what I do. To me you’re already Cherie, and Sharon, and darling.”
“You don’t mind?”
“If you insist on being formal I’ll punish you.”
The word awoke unease. “Thia is a school, isn’t it… and the girls, me included, do get punished if we do something… wrong, darl… Miss Carruthers?”
“You nearly called me darling, didn’t you?”
Chartreuse laughed delightedly. “You should have it that’s what came to your lips. And, yes, this is a school, and bad girls do get punished.”
“How? I mean, what sort of punishments?”
“Poor darling, you’re so curious.”
The bound girl allowed intuition to prompt her words. “I bet it’s not getting a hundred lines to write after class. Or standing in the corner. Or studying on a holiday!”
“How did you guess! You’re told to stand before the class and hold your hand out.”
“To be caned?”
“Of course, Sharon, what else!”
“But, a girl of nineteen…? I’m a young woman!”
Chartreuse’s eyes sparkled mischief. “The more mature student is allowed to bare her bottom and bend over.”
“You’re laughing at me.” Sharon complained, trying not to giggle. “We don’t have to… doe we?”
“But of course you do, Cherie. It is a tradition of centuries. All the best schools…”

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More fun on Powerotics BDSM: free games for you to play. There are not very many online BDSM related games and Powerotics has taken the effort to develop two new ones.

BDSM Academy is a fun and informative way to test your BDSM knowledge in many areas and maybe learn a thing or two.

Encrypted Slave Assignments takes your online BDSM scening to the next level: give online assignments, but encrypt them and have your submissive partner pull their hair out and search for the encryption key.

Both games are totally free and if you have your own BDSM site, you can even add them for free if you like.

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The captive girl looked at the older woman in a wry puzzlement. “I felt so… well… foolish, and inadequate. Nigel sensed something. He was bound to be appalled. But I sense something too. I only came here yesterday… it’s all new and strange. Presteigne is a school for girls. But why… why am I tied like This… and naked?”
The Mistress’s chuckle was reassuring. “Could we have devised a better dismissal for poor Mr. Greyston? It was perfect.”
Sharon recognized the finality of the tableau by which she had terminated love. “I suppose so,” She agreed hesitantly. “It was bizarre but it worked. Poor dear Nigel! May I be untied now please?”
“No, dear, not now.”
The four simply words were so casual and mundane! It took several moments for their full import to register. When it did, the bound girl tugged fretfully and uselessly against the ropes. In sudden panic she demanded:
“But why! I don’t…”
“You do not understand, cherie.” Miss Carruthers laughed gaily. “Of course you don’t! I am being most unkind. I make you run before you learn to walk.”
“Is this…? i mean… is it quite…?”
“Is it respectable? That is what you wish to say, dear.” The Mistress gently patted the now dry cheeks. “With my little charade I trick you into becoming a sweet and naked captive… and now I do not set you free. Are you worried?”
“A little. I say, Miss Carruthers, they don’t do things like this at most schools. I’m sure they don’t. I’m not exactly a child, y’know.”
“That I can see!” Chartreuse Carruthers sparkled approval. “I expect poor Mr. Greyston saw it too and was properly shocked. As to other schools, I make no comment. Presteigne is not as other schools.”

Sharon fought down her alarm. It was hard to be afraid of this radiant creature who was regarding her with evident amusement. Warmth and sympathy were in the lambent eyes. But the ropes were harsh upon her skin, and nakedness before others was a condition so proscribed by all the edicts of which she was aware that she could not flaunt it without shame and guilt. It evoked in her strange sensations and awarenesses… her breasts suddenly seemed like taut melons… Perhaps it was the tug of the ropes! She was bound too tightly to be able to look down upon her pubic hair, but the knowledge of its exposure burned between her legs like a brand of censure.
“Please, Miss Carruthers, I want to please you, honestly I do!” Sharon essayed a pleading smile. “Please help me. Please make me understand why I am tied like this and why you won’t set me free. I expect there is a good reason, but I just don’t know…?”
“Of course you don’t know, dear. Does it matter?”
“Oh, yes, yes! I can’t help thinking I’m being punished. Am I?”
“Not for anything you’ve done… only for being female.”
Sharon was aware of elusiveness. Miss Carruthers was not being playful, but there was an amused twist to the full red lips.
“Why won’t you tell me?” Cautiously she kept censure from her voice. “I’m nineteen. I’m old enough to… to, to know things?”
Miss Carruthers gave her captive another, not quite maternal, pat upon the cheek. “Sometimes, my dear, we must take things in trust and be patient. If I ask you nicely, will you trust me now?”
Sharon wiggled against the ropes. “I have to, don’t I! I mean, what else can I do?”
“I wasn’t speaking of you being tied to that pillar, Sharon. That’s simple: you can’t get loose. You’ll stay there until someone unties you. But you can stay there rebelliously or you can stay there in a quiet acceptance of
something you don’t yet understand… trusting me.”

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The girlish vehemence struck the boy like a physical blow. Her logic compelled reassessment. He examined the bitter ropes deep within the white flesh of the pilar’s prisoner, they were neatly and strategically placed to render the exposed nudity helpless while at the same time enhancing its
female esthetics. Here was no hurried captivity driven by urgency.
“But why?” He groped in bafflement.
“Because I wish it.”
“You can’t wish it! Who could!”
“Because Miss Carruthers wishes it then!” Sharon’s voice was tinged with desperation.
Nigel Greyston stood, still clapsing the white sheet. His eyes feasted unwillingly on beauty such as he had never seen. A hostile silence lengthened. A battle had been joined over an issue he did not understand.
But as he looked at the sulkily defiant features of the girl he loved, there coalesced from memory the sneers and innuendos about a legendary Chartreuse Carruthers. He glimpsed unholy vistas.
“It’s some rotten perversion, isn’t it!”
“Don’t be pious, Nigel.”
“Some beastly thing between women!”
The girl smiled tolerantly. “You mean we’re lesbians?”
“Sharon, you can’t mean it! You can’t!”
“And why not?” Sharon’s smile was mocking. “It’s an old tradition, y’know.
Nothing new about two girls…”
“This being bound… and naked…! That’s part of it, isn’t it!”
“If you say so, Nigel.”
“You’re mocking me. It’s not like you. Oh, Sharon…?”
“Nigel, can we end this please?” The lovely eyes both implored and demanded.
“Ido not love you.” And for final emphasis: “I love Chartreuse Carruthers.
Nigel, go away!”

Again the silence, the stricken eyes. This time the sheet fell unnoticed to the floor. Unable to tear his gaze from that which he had loved, the man backed slowly away from the pillar and its bound beauty. His face was a mask of misery, his mind a turmoil. Halfway to the door he gave vent to an inarticulate sob. Turning swiftly he strode angrily and determinedly from the chamber. The bound girl heard his footsteps beat a forceful march into the distance. The door had been left open, but she could not go to it.
It was very quiet in the columned chamber. The nude girl tied to the stone pillar did not break the silence with her tears. They fell in solitary sadness from her eyes, welling outward from a grief demanding the surcease of their release. She could not raise her hands to deal with them. She did not even shake her head to clear their pearls of sorrow, but allowed them to trickle down her cheeks to fall, one by one, upon her naked breasts.
It was no great span of time before the footsteps came, recognizedly female. Sharon knew them already as those of Chartreuse Carruthers.
“You poor darling!” Feminine fingers and white cambric dried the captive cheeks. “Was it very bad?”
“It was worse than I thought it could be.” Sharon’s admission was simple and unaffected.
Miss Carruthers sighed. “The masterful male! They have to do their strutting. What did you tell him?”
“Nothing really.” The captive girl loosed a wry grin. “He jumped to the conclusion we were lesbians. I left it at that.”
“And it was sufficient! I saw his face as he went away. The poor sad little boy with his broken toy.” Chartreuse Carruthers kissed her captive lightly on the lips. “Cherie, thank you. I am grateful.”
Sharon Tredgold’s voice was tremulous. “That’s the end for me… i mean, there’s no one else. I’ve burned my bridges.”
“Let us say you have performed a task, dear. I would not have asked it of you if I could have done it half as well.” The Headmistress patted damp cheeks and deftly arranged strands of errant hair.

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Objectification is a popular form in BDSM. it is especially popular with submissive women. This is slavegirl Catherine, telling the Powerotics editing team about her experiences:

“I am Catherine.

You see, statues and decorations usually do not speak. They just are.”

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Tags: bdsm, objectification, sexual object, slave report

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To an increasing number of people spirituality is becoming an important part of their BDSM lifestyle.

This may take many shapes and forms, from wicca to Zen-Buhddism and many other - often very personal - forms.

Much of this has to do with the fact that people consider BDSM an important part of themselves and the way they shape and form their life and their relationship.

There are many other cross-overs as well, for example to aroma-therapy, alternative medicine, yoga, New Age and other formats. This increasingly brings new, exciting elements and influences into the BDSM realm.

Many others wrestle with their belief and upbringing and the apparant paradox between that and the BDSM lifestyle.

There are specific groups and websites, dealing with for example Christianity and BDSM or Islam and BDSM.

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Tags: new age bdsm, religion and bdsm, spiritual bdsm, spirituality, wicca bdsm

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The safeword BDSM concept is an emergency break, designed to allow partners to stop the action whenever there is an emergency or something becomes too scary, annoying, threatening or otherwise inappropriate.

When agreed upon safewords are SACRED and should be respected at all times.

Safewords can be anything. They were designed because such things as “ouch”, “stop”, or “no..no..no” may have a very different meaning in a steamy scene. Hence people will pick odd words, like “strawberry” or “tugboat”. Using the colors of a traffic light is a widely used form of safewording.

The exact word or phrase and what it means are negociated and established PRIOR to any action and the dominant regularly checks if his or her partner remembers the safeword or wants to use it. Safewords by the way can be used by all partners involved.

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Sharon grimaced in distaste. “There are stories about Disraeli, and Gladstone. Leave them alone. I like Miss Carruthers. She’s been kind to me.”
He would not let go. “Oh, she’s charming enough. And… what’s the word:sophisticated!” Nigel grinned an admission. “She makes me feel like a little boy.”
“We are quite young, y’know.” The lovely feminine features clouded in frustration. “Nigel, don’t be stuffy. Look: just to please me, say good-bye and go.”
He was wounded by the reference to youth. “No I won’t! I want some answers. There’s something rummy…”
Sharon sighed. At that moment she too saw him as an obstreperous male child, a rebellious spirit to be quenched. Unhappily she spoke his name: “Nigel.”
There was that in her utterance to make him tense. He looked at her, sensing denouement.
“Yes, Sharon?”
“Take away this white cloak and fold it please.”
His every move betraying a vexed puzzlement, Nigel took the several steps and reached a hesitant hand to the fastening below the maiden chin. Freeing it, he swept away the billowing folds of white and stepped back in shocked horror at what his act revealed. For moments he stood, with quickening
breath, before he gasped his exclamation of the obvious.
“You’re naked!”
“Yes, I am.”

The girl spoke the words as an affirmation, a challenge, as the tossing of a gauge. Her emotions were darkly hidden. She stared evenly at the stricken male, guessing what he must now declaim.
“Sharon, you’re tied…?”
“I am bound to this pillar with rope, Nigel.”
The incongruity of her acquiescence was defeating. He had never before beheld a naked female. Breasts and pubes and belly pouted at him in an unsuspected blatancy, their beauty lost in the enormity of shattered
propriety. Instinctively, he moved to replace the shielding fabric.
“Leave it be, Nigel! Drop it!”
“But… you’re… you’re…”
“I’m naked, Nigel. We said that. Have a good look at me.”
“Sharon!” Victoria herself could not have been more shocked.
“It’s your fault!” She was femininely angry.
“We asked you to go, and you wouldn’t…” For a moment she seemed to struggle against the bonds that held her naked before his eyes, but she could not move. “Now that you’ve seen my… my shame… I expect you’ll call it that, will you leave Presteigne? Go away!”
“I’ll untie you. Then we can…”
“No! Don’t touch me!”
“But you’re a prisoner! You’re being held…”
“I’m not! I’m not! Nigel, be sensible. Would I be like this if I did not wish to be?”

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“Very well, Mr. Greyston. Let us make no mountains out of molehills. If you will follow me…”
To Nigel Greyston it was a small victory confirming his manhood. To Chartreuse Carruthers it was a small and boring task to be summarily disposed of. She pushed open the heavy Gothic door with an air of
disassociation from what portended.
“I will leave you quite alone,” She said generously. “Should you want me when you leave, I will be in my study.”
The chamber was large. It was light and airy. Its vaulted ceiling was supported by several narrow circular columns. With her back to one of them there leant a girl who looked up in surprise, her meditation shattered.
“Sharon!”
Nigel Greyston’s instinctive leap forward paused uncertainly. There was something strange. Something not quite right.
“Oh, hello, Nigel.” The young feminine exclamation was without warmth. “I hoped you wouldn’t come. I asked Miss Carruthers…”
He stood, held not only by the lacklustre greeting, but also by the strange garb of the girl he desired. A cascade of white fell from her neck to billo about her feet like the chaste sheet of a penitent. From above its purity Sharon’s dark eyes were enigmatic.
“I… I had to come.” He was angry with his implied apology. “I couldn’t believe…?”
“There’s nothing to believe, Nigel. We’ve both been a bit silly.” It was the tone of a mother to a child.
“But after…! Oh, Sharon, what the devil!”

The lovely face above the whiteness managed a wan smile. “I do wish you’d listened to Miss Carruthers, Nigel. This isn’t a bit sensible. I don’t want you hurt.”
“It’s the not knowing that hurts… dammit, Sharon…”
“There’s nothing to know, silly. I’ll be here for… for awhile. What we had… what we’d talked about… it was too soon. Please, Nigel, go away and live your life.”
“You’re my life.”
His stubborn boyishness was both endearing and irritating. The girl surveyed him with faint exasperation. “Nigel, don’t… don’t dramatise. If I say please nicely, will you go away?”
“What are you standing there like that for?” The boy gazed at the white-clad girl in puzzlement, and then swivelled around the chamber. “What is this place: some sort of cloister?” His voice sneered. “A meditative solitude?”
“Something like that, Nigel.”
“Has Presteigne a few nuns tucked away…?”
“You’re being bitter. Surely Miss Carruthers doesn’t remind you of anything like a convent!”
“No, she doesn’t!” His emphasis accentuated justification. “She’s altogether too young! And too… too.. well, to handsome. There’s stories, a scandal…”
“Does it matter? London seethes with stories.”
“It matters if it touches you. I couldn’t learn facts, but it was something nasty.”

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