BoundCon XI

23.5.2014 – 25.5.2014 Zenith München Als allererstes möchten wir uns bei allen bedanken, die uns in diesem Jahr an unserem Stand besucht haben. Ganz besonderer Dank geht an die Besucher, die uns mit dem Kauf von DVDs unterstützt haben. Wir haben auch schon wieder einige Ideen für den nächsten Film. Wenn mir nach der Messe alle Knochen und Muskeln weh tun, dann weiß ich, die Messe war fantastisch! Und was hat mir alles hinterher weh getan :-). Wir wünschen Euch viel Spaß mit den...

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„The Escape“ – June

„The Escape“ – June

I hate HER. This black-haired bitch visits him about six times per month. I still wonder whether it was her voice I heard on that day I was brought here. I’m not sure, because that person had left the room before he unpacked me and their voices sounded strangely through that mask and hood I wore. She never talks to me; she just looks at me in the most arrogant way I can imagine. In the beginning I never knew when she would come next until she arrived. In the meantime I have learned that he always behaves really strangely on these days. I have to use make-up and the results of my attempts aren’t very attractive, because I have never used make-up before. And I have to wear this heavy, stiff and long straight front over-bust corset. It makes very nice hips and a very small waist, but it flattens my breasts, almost if I had none. It is hard to breathe while wearing this corset; it compresses my ribcage and bust in a very restrictive manner. Every detail of my outfit has to be perfect, the corset fully closed, the catsuit thoroughly polished and I have to wear these expensive shiny steel restraints. That iron waist belt is the worst part of the outfit. I have to wear it over the corset and it generates even more pressure on my lower ribs than the corset already does, especially when I have to sit. Usually he enjoys looking at me and telling me, that I look great in my outfits. And he loves it to ask me, if I feel comfortable, knowing that I don’t. But, as soon as SHE arrives, he ignores me completely for the rest of the day until she leaves again. One day I understood the reason for her visits: SHE loves to play with him in the playroom. First I was relieved; I thought as long as he had another playmate he would keep his word never forcing ME to play. On the other hand I had strange thoughts feeling myself being the only looser in the entire game. He had fun, the black bitch had fun – and I had none. With the time passing on I started to wonder: Is it my only role to suffer while all others have fun? Or do I have to suffer because I am not willing to have fun with him in the playroom? I feel very uncomfortable on these days, not only physically but mentally as well. I have strange thoughts, feel lonely, useless, neglected. I’m not his favourite toy. Do I really hate her or am I just...

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