04 - Bond-Expo
Story index at the bottom
By Sarobah
Fri Aug 01, 2008 2:54 pm
You can’t always get what you want.
My city puts on an annual event called SpringFest, and each year there’s a theme. Last time it was The Periphery, a celebration and showcase of the exotic and the experimental, of unconventional ideas and alternate lifestyles.
Held that same week, Bond-Expo was the radical counter-culture’s answer to the mainstream counter-culture. It was not part of the official SpringFest program; in fact, the venue was a small, out-of-town convention centre. It did not attract a great deal of attention, just devotees of the fine art of tying up people. And although naturally I was interested, I had ruled out any chance of going because the timing clashed with my classes. However, when I found out that a couple of friends, Laura and George, were putting on one of the displays, I decided that this was an opportunity I shouldn’t miss. I managed to revise my schedule and pestered Rob until, worn down by the cajolery, he agreed to come along.
Rob is my latest and hopefully last boyfriend. No, I’m not turning gay or celibate. It’s just that I want to eventually tie the knot with him in a more conventional manner. He was new to the tie-up genre, and I was still showing him the ropes, so to speak. He was a real sweetheart, because he had to drive us to the expo, as I don’t have a licence – which, believe me, is a good thing for the motoring public. The journey took a couple of hours and Rob was in a grumpy mood when we arrived. I couldn’t blame him that all he was interested in was a beer. So while he went off to quench his thirst, I wandered over to the exhibition hall for a quick reconnaissance. The lobby was congested and noisy. A queue was forming at the registration desk, and a couple of scantily clad young ladies were passing along the ranks handing out flyers.
I returned to Rob, who was already at ease with a half-empty beer glass. He insisted on one more before I dragged him from the barstool. He had cheered up considerably – it’s a marvel what a simple concoction of barley, hops and water can do for the male frame of mind. (Me, when I need perking up, I prefer the bedroom to the barroom, but that’s another story.) So we strolled across to the hall. There was no admission charge, and registration was just signing a visitor’s book and picking up a folder of brochures, mainly advertisements for internet websites.
Inside, it could have been an exposition no different to any other. There were rows of booths and stands, some of them commercial, with salesman touting merchandise and memberships, other stalls operated by private clubs and individuals. There were well-groomed, well-proportioned professional models and talented – and some less talented – hobbyists displaying their wares and demonstrating their skills. Tables and benches were laid out with all sorts of goodies: “adult’ toys, theme clothing, how-to manuals, a vast assortment of gags and collars, even a range of tasteful chastity belts – his and hers. Foot traffic was heavy, with a couple of hundred people milling and meandering, chatting, browsing, haggling.
At the first very first stall we encountered, a pretty blonde woman was lying on her side atop a bench wearing, of all things, a Star Trek uniform (the sixties one, with miniskirt and go-go boots). She was in the process of being bound in a classic hog-tie by a nervous-looking amateur under the direction of – you may have guessed – a Klingon. The Trekkie looked up and flashed us a convivial smile just before her Klingon master thrust a red ball-gag into her mouth.
At the booth next door, two girls – a short, pixie-faced blonde and a tall, buxom brunette – were being lashed together by a huge man dressed in military-style fatigues. Their arms were pinioned behind their backs to a degree that looked very uncomfortable, but they were laughing and joking. It was hard to tell if they were paid models or roped-in passers-by.
I could go on describing the exhibits, but I think you get the idea. The vast majority of those being tied up were females, but there was the occasional male and here and there a couple. While most of the crowd were content to be onlookers, some volunteered to join in the games. These were more evenly divided between the sexes, except for one outstanding difference. The women would be encouraged to strip down to their undies and a few brave souls did so, but none of the guys were or did. It’s funny how even a “fringe” event typecasts the gals as the ones who take off their clothes.
Even so, there was no actual nudity; and the bondage itself was pretty much vanilla-flavoured. The most extreme featured two girls dangling rather awkwardly, and on the face of it painfully, from a harness rigged to a large triangular apparatus, and again it was hard to tell if they were professionals or amateurs.
Right in the middle of the room were Laura and George. They were tending a stall for the Radical Arts Academy, an experimental theatre group. George was dressed in a rather bizarre parody of a policeman’s uniform – lurid blue spandex and latex, with a grotesquely enormous cap and badge. He looked ridiculous whereas she (who is stunningly beautiful on her worst bad-hair day) was clad – or rather unclad – in a barely there Lycra bikini, with every girl’s indispensable accessories – leather collar and cuffs and metallic anklets. God, she made me wish I was gay.
They were doing a roaring trade. Guys were lining up to be tied up by the luscious Laura, while George was corralling their partners into his lair with a huge water pistol. Preoccupied and somewhat flustered by the rush of business, Laura managed just a smile and a wink when she saw me. So we wandered over to a nearby stand where members of another troupe were giving lessons on simple ties to neophytes. Rob urged me to join the fun, but it was a little too tame for my tastes.
However, across the hall a more enticing performance was taking place. A man and woman dressed as dungeon-master and dominatrix were demonstrating various tie-up techniques on volunteers. Their methods and moves were much more my style, with gags, hog-ties, crotch-ropes, suspension, and various other treats. I immediately stepped forward. The domme looked me up and down, frowning, and said: “ID please, dear.”
Now, I need to explain that I am quite small, and I look a good deal younger than my 21 summers. So I stared glumly at the sign pronouncing in big red letters, NO MINORS, as I rummaged vainly through my purse and pockets for my student ID card. As I’ve mentioned, I don’t have a driver’s licence, so I had no way of proving that I was a legal adult.
Accepting the inevitable, I shrugged off my disappointment. I tried to get Rob interested in taking my place, but he was having none of it. And since I didn’t bother with the newbies’ class, I didn’t get tied up that day. Furthermore, we never got back to Bond-Expo, because I couldn’t avoid my commitments another day. It was my only chance to be tied up by a professional, and I blew it.
Sarobah
Australia
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Sarobah's stories
- 01 - The Adventure Begins (mm/f)
- 02 - Mayday (F+/F+) in Archives for Adults
- 03 - The Obligatory Babysitter Story (mf/f)
- 04 - Bond-Expo (M+F+/M+F+) in Archives for Adults
- 05 - Captured Commando (f/f)
- 06 - Slavegirl (M+F+/F+, M/F)
- 07 - Uniformity (m/f)
- 08 - Tent Ropes - The True Story (FFF/M, M+/F+)
- 09 - Tent Ropes - Fiction (FFF/M, M+/F+) in Archives for Adults
- 10 - Family Ties (m/ff, m/fff)
- 11 - Setting the record straight... Family Ties, # 2 (m/ff) Story from Sarobah's brother Alex
- 12 - The other end of the rope (m/ff, m/f) Story from Sarobah's brother Alex
- 13 - Adventures in Tieland (f/m, mmm/f, m/ff) Story from Sarobah's brother Alex
- 14 - Setting the record straight... The awesome foursome (f/f, m/fff) Story from Sarobah's brother Alex
- 15 - Back in the game! (M/F)
- 16 - The Resort (M/F, m/f, M+m+/F+f+)
In Archives for Adults - Balls: The rematch (MMMM/FFFF)
- Birthday Girl (M/F)
- The Girl Next Door (M/F)
- Tie-up Tuesday (M/F)
- The prisoners' dilemma (m/f)
- Château Chaînerie (mmf/f)
- THE TIE-UP CHRONICLES (Continued) (m/f)
- Two first times (m/f)
- Adversity (F/F)
Index of all stories in the "Archive for Everyone" section
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Index of all stories in the "Archive for Adults" section
