Guess who got "catfished" ...
That's right, it was me! How'd you guess?
Inspired by @"AllieXBow" 's venture from the self-bondage into the bondage world, (aaargh, you're so lucky!) I had reactivated my old classified, but this time I removed the part where I'd also be willing to work with male playmates.
And lo' and behold, the next day I a
eady got a reply from a woman in my city, 33 years old, petite but slightly athletic. Inexperienced but very eager to dip her unquestionably sexy toes into the shores of bondage play.
Could it be? A unicorn?
See, I'm not an idiot. I knew that she had to be fake. A "keyboard wanker" is the colloquial term, I think.
But what if she's not? Gee. What if this is the one in a million shot hitting the bullseye?
Ask yourself, would you have pursued the opportunity?
Well, I have. And let me tell you, the ups and downs of imagining it could be real and telling myself to stop and call her out (or him, more specifically) were a fun experience. We chatted for 2-3 hours, two nights in a row.
In her mind, she was looking for a strong D/s overtone. Since she had no experience, she wanted me to take the reigns and only interject with yellow/red safewords if she felt overwhelmed. For her, the idea of bondage was inseparably linked to a heavy sexual vibe. She expected to be naked and vulnerable right from the start, forced to pleasure her Master as he deems fit, receiving pleasure herself only as a reward if she followed orders properly (in the ad, I stated that the range of scenarios could go from playful damsel in distress scenes through taxing ties in fetish clothing up to complete, naked helplessness while being pounded by a fucking machine and a magic wand pushed onto her clit).
When I jerked off later that night, I came harder than I had come in quite a long time.
I told her I was a
eady planning another meetup with my bondage buddy I met over my old classified for the first week of May and that she could contact him as a reference (I had of course asked him for permission to share his anonymous profile URL and he was also aware that she was extremely likely to be a fraud)
She asked if she could attend as well, but if she was to be naked, she expected the other bottom to be as well.
Since I had provided her with his contact, I asked her to negotiate those terms with him herself.
That was also the point where I decided to demand some sort of proof to show her commitment to the whole idea. I offered a meetup, where she could check me out from a distance and disengage discreetly if she felt like it, suggested she could send a photo of her (fully clothed, no face) top, breasts bound above and below by two belts and her hand holding a piece of paper with my profile name on it.
Naturally, she became evasive. Indignant, even. The pauses in chat grew longer and longer while the cold, hard realisation set in that the dream was about to end. Then, 12 hours later, still no reply. I cheekily asked "So what is it? Are you a fake or not?" and then (here's the part of the brain clinging to hope like a mountaineer holding on to his icepick while dangling over a chasm) "If you just slightly embellished some part about being 33/petite/athletic, there's some wiggle room."
.
.
.
.
"Nope. I'm male, 38, and I just want to be tied up, but I can't find anyone to do it to me..."
Sad trombone sound. I wasn't mad. I was just disappointed. Despite having known that this, or something similar to this, was the expected outcome right off the start. And, more importantly, I felt compassion for his situation.
Long story short, we chatted some more and all the things about bondage he told me as his alter ego were true, he's gay, has a 21x5 cock and I'm considering meeting up with him to see if we can help each other out with our fantasies.
Should I, dear reader?
(This post was last modified: 23 Apr 2022, 23:42 by Bound Whore.)
That's right, it was me! How'd you guess?
Inspired by @"AllieXBow" 's venture from the self-bondage into the bondage world, (aaargh, you're so lucky!) I had reactivated my old classified, but this time I removed the part where I'd also be willing to work with male playmates.
And lo' and behold, the next day I a

Could it be? A unicorn?
See, I'm not an idiot. I knew that she had to be fake. A "keyboard wanker" is the colloquial term, I think.
But what if she's not? Gee. What if this is the one in a million shot hitting the bullseye?
Ask yourself, would you have pursued the opportunity?
Well, I have. And let me tell you, the ups and downs of imagining it could be real and telling myself to stop and call her out (or him, more specifically) were a fun experience. We chatted for 2-3 hours, two nights in a row.
In her mind, she was looking for a strong D/s overtone. Since she had no experience, she wanted me to take the reigns and only interject with yellow/red safewords if she felt overwhelmed. For her, the idea of bondage was inseparably linked to a heavy sexual vibe. She expected to be naked and vulnerable right from the start, forced to pleasure her Master as he deems fit, receiving pleasure herself only as a reward if she followed orders properly (in the ad, I stated that the range of scenarios could go from playful damsel in distress scenes through taxing ties in fetish clothing up to complete, naked helplessness while being pounded by a fucking machine and a magic wand pushed onto her clit).
When I jerked off later that night, I came harder than I had come in quite a long time.
I told her I was a

She asked if she could attend as well, but if she was to be naked, she expected the other bottom to be as well.
Since I had provided her with his contact, I asked her to negotiate those terms with him herself.
That was also the point where I decided to demand some sort of proof to show her commitment to the whole idea. I offered a meetup, where she could check me out from a distance and disengage discreetly if she felt like it, suggested she could send a photo of her (fully clothed, no face) top, breasts bound above and below by two belts and her hand holding a piece of paper with my profile name on it.
Naturally, she became evasive. Indignant, even. The pauses in chat grew longer and longer while the cold, hard realisation set in that the dream was about to end. Then, 12 hours later, still no reply. I cheekily asked "So what is it? Are you a fake or not?" and then (here's the part of the brain clinging to hope like a mountaineer holding on to his icepick while dangling over a chasm) "If you just slightly embellished some part about being 33/petite/athletic, there's some wiggle room."
.
.
.
.
"Nope. I'm male, 38, and I just want to be tied up, but I can't find anyone to do it to me..."
Sad trombone sound. I wasn't mad. I was just disappointed. Despite having known that this, or something similar to this, was the expected outcome right off the start. And, more importantly, I felt compassion for his situation.
Long story short, we chatted some more and all the things about bondage he told me as his alter ego were true, he's gay, has a 21x5 cock and I'm considering meeting up with him to see if we can help each other out with our fantasies.
Should I, dear reader?