A second encounter of his kindness


A few days after her first encounter with Osada Steve, the girl was taken to Studio SIX.
As with her first report this was written within 12 hours of the encounter…


Another exhausting time on our last day in Tokyo. The streets were crowded with people rushing to their destination, signboards of various shapes and sizes were flashing away to color up the buildings… and we were hotel-less.

There I was, sitting in the hotel lobby flipping through a directory with Master as we called up various hotels to enquire about rooms. All were full. We were supposed to check into a room, freshen up, then head on down to Studio SIX to meet Osada Steve, followed by a fetish party. But now, I wasn’t really in the mood to go out and paint the town red.

In the end, Master called Osada Steve who kindly offered his studio for the night. Alternatively, he said, we could just come to the studio first, then work things out later… we could always go to a love hotel later.

Once again, my mind, being all tired out, wasn’t really thinking much. I do think that is Master’s strategy: tire his girl out so she cannot think and sense any evil plans He would have up His sleeve!

We found ourselves in Studio SIX, to watch a photography session. Cool, I thought, I will now get to see the production process from shoot, to photograph on a website. The place was draped in black cloth, huge lights at strategic locations for lighting, and a guy with a huge camera hanging from his neck. There was another French man who would be observing the session too. We sat on chairs facing the shooting area, watching as Rope Master, model, and photographer readied themselves. I never once thought I would end the night at the studio as a participant.

I was actually very hesitant about watching a session when I had just had mine a couple of nights previously, worried that somehow, by observing, it would in some way spoil the memories of my own virgin experience.

On the contrary, it helped me appreciate even more the beauty of Shibari. Osada Steve was fantastic in his craft, and the model was quiet and submissive. It made me hungry for much much more, just watching the nonverbal exchange, the intimacy between Osada Steve and the model, Asagi Ageha.

There were two sessions with Ageha in total. The part that struck me the most was when she started doing all these amazing acrobatic stunts while suspended. From standing up, supported by ropes, in mid-air, to repositioning herself horizontally such that she was in an almost hogtied position… there were so many positions which I now cannot remember. I was too busy being stunned and thinking, oh man, that looks like fun!

Osada Steve had just simply stepped back after he had finished tying her up, and leaned against the support metal railing in a corner, watching her. It was quite a visual – the Master stepping aside, observing, enshrouded in partial darkness in the corner, while the girl, right in the spotlight, dances in the air.

That visual has etched itself the deepest in my memory… many people tend to focus on the Rope Master and his skill, and the only comments made about the model are about how beautiful she is, how sexy a body she has, and once in a while, the “oh she looks so spaced”. Now, I’m not belittling the Rope Master’s skills here; Osada Steve is a very talented man.

But it was just so enlightening to see the model dance – when we think ‘Japanese bondage’ or bondage of any kind really, we think of physically immobilized females who perhaps (since we can only guess by the vacant facial expressions) are floating mentally. In this instance, it was seeing the mental freedom through her dances. Bear in mind, she was still very much bound – I could see the ropes biting into her skin whenever she tried another move… but yet, at the same time, oh she was so free.

Of course I am aware that someone might say things like, “she’s a model! She was simply getting into different positions for the photographer.” Well yes, perhaps… but that entire scene spoke to me differently, and I will hold on to that, if you don’t mind.

During the break after the second session, it became very apparent that I would become a participant once the smoke break ended. For some reason, I wasn’t all worried about the idea of being naked in front of two male strangers, the photographer and the Frenchman. I think I was too busy worrying that I would not perform as well as the model before me. After seeing a beautiful show like that, that was pressure (perhaps self-imposed) to do just as well.

However I told myself, it’ll be a very long while before Master would be able to enjoy his girl in such an environment, with a Rope Master. I refused to spoil it with a bout of low self-esteem. I refused to rob myself of the opportunity to enjoy myself, and please Master.

Master prepared me, helping me out of all my clothes. His presence made me feel very safe, and even as I stood completely naked in front of everyone, my nakedness did not shame me. My only thoughts were on Master, and the look of pride on His face. This session was for Master and I to share and enjoy, never mind the audience we had… and I admit, I was also excited at the prospect of being decorated by Osada Steve’s ropes.

As before, Osada Steve started by tying my hair up into a simply ponytail. He then proceeded to tie my arms behind my back, and he bound my breasts too in the process. I kind of lost it from then on, and a lot of my descriptions of the session are partly from my memory, but a huge bit from the photographs Master showed me later on.

I will describe as best I can the process and the techniques, but do understand that I may not be all that accurate.

From the photographs, I now know that a lot of rope was used on my upper torso. Rope held my breasts, rope wound around my waist, and my back was a beautiful pattern of ropes.

Osada Steve trailed rope around my thighs and under my buttocks, which made it feel like a seat, almost. Because rope had by now been looped through the ceiling beam from behind me, it threw me forward off balance. Osada Steve held my head up with a blindfold, tied to the rope behind me. I have been blindfolded often before, but this was quite an experience, to be completely blind. Even with my eyes closed, I could still ‘see’ some light because the spotlights were strong. But with the blindfold, I was in complete darkness. And that made me feel, like I was swimming in a heavy fog.

Then there was the ball gag — the clothes pegs I do not recall at all and I was surprised to see them in my photographs. I vaguely remember Osada Steve touching my nipple, and me whimpering in the slight pain — I just figured my nipples had become extra sensitive with the rope pressing down around it over my breasts. Quite amazing really, considering how I normally get all worked up whenever Master clamps my nipples because it always hurts a lot yet during the session, I didn’t even notice it, nor did I feel the peg on my ear!

Later, Master said that He was surprised at how I had bent my knees and lifted my legs off the ground. To me, well… I do not know why I did it really… I just did. The ropes pulled me up, and I sat in the rope harness that Osada Steve had created around my pelvic area… and I just floated. At some moment, Osada Steve began spinning me around and I felt like a little girl on a playground ride, spinning and spinning away… I was just so happy, in that gliding sensation.

Lying on the floor later on, I got a bit of a whipping. That was a very distracting period… like a struggle… being tugged at both ends… one, the ropes, guiding in further up into subspace, the other the whips, trying to get me to wake up into consciousness.

Strangely, the whips this time did not have the same effect on it as they had in Roppongi jail… I was getting nervous around the whips which seemed to be flying about too randomly… I suppose it had largely to do with the trust issue. I didn’t know the whipper so it was hard for me to go along with him. Thankfully, Osada Steve was around, and he was always very assuring… just some form of body contact with him alone made me feel safer, that no matter what, he was there.

Then, the next thing I knew, I was back sitting on the floor, Osada Steve removing my ropes. In the midst of that thick fog in my mind, I felt a bit of consciousness struggling to push its way out to protest, beg not to be released. Funny isn’t it? Not wanting to be free of your bondage, in order to remain free… I didn’t have the strength or any real ability to speak out and beg though.

When I was vaguely aware that Osada Steve hadn’t quite finished with me, I settled back into my oblivious state of bliss.

Round two was a complete maze of ropes entwined round and round my limbs. Sitting facing Osada Steve, my arms were bound together in front of me in what I call a net. The way by which Osada Steve throws more and more rope on your limbs, covering them… it has an hypnotizing effect, like something urging you to fall deeper and deeper into nothingness. With each turn of his rope around my arms, I was beckoned in.

I really do not remember much from then on, save for a little burst of pain here and there. I felt more ropes around my legs, as I lay on the floor. A little pain when the ropes started winding its way through my toes… a pain which was uncomfortable but yet at the same time, was addictive… I wanted more of that pain, the discomfort because somehow, it just took me further.

At another stage, my legs suspended upwards, body still on the floor, Osada Steve started pulling at the ropes connected to my upper torso. I wanted to get up and move along with the ropes, like a dutiful puppet… but I couldn’t because of the rope biting into the middle of my tummy. And I suppose, at the same time, I was just too gone. I was vaguely aware that Osada Steve wanted to get me up and I wanted to follow his instructions, but even as I, like, ‘consciously’ pulled myself up, at the same time my body wasn’t moving – I thought I was moving, but yet I wasn’t.

Do you know how lovely it can feel, to have water pattering down on you like rain? Osada Steve, towards the end, started sprinkling water on me. There’s almost like a skip in the way the water falls down on your skin like a joyous dance, it’s so refreshing and seductive. It stirs you awake, and lulls you to sleep at the same time…

It’s a good way to describe Japanese rope bondage… it lulls you to subspace, and awakens in you emotions and a sense of mental freedom, among other things, that you never thought you had always possessed. In the end you realize, I had all these all along, yet I never knew it until the Rope Master, through Shibari, leads you to it. And through that discovery, you start interacting, no words required, with the Rope Master, sharing with him what you have unearthed, so the both of you can enjoy it. I enjoyed my sessions with Osada Steve a lot and I’m grateful for those experiences. And I’m glad that I can now also, share them with my Master, so we can both enjoy that pleasure together.


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1 Comment

  1. Thankyou for tales of new beautiful rides *s*
    And for your worthy way of passing on your beautiful experiences, as for Osada Sensei.
    *delighted on your behalf*s*

    Some remains, for me: more of where the rigger is in the journey…; her… for him… ~during the set.
    (No doubt about the credits he rightfully ‘earned’ and hence the sub’s gratitude)

    As for me, the state of being (present, though not ;o) is not exactly a “lull” ^.~
    …Enchanted. Seduced. ‘Spellbound’. Submitted. Tricked-n-played. Seen/ met. Drifting. Maybe even to a state where her ‘coding’ is changed… by his ways aso.
    But still ‘exchange’. ~ her meeting him, what she ‘gives’ ~ being in ropes.

    IMHO, at it’s best, it is like a ‘pas de trois’.
    Not merely for the sub, nor merely for showing power of ropes, nor merely for stating his skills.
    But a merge, that trancescends the imediately “ergreifbares” (in german).

    Thankyou! for sharing your sensitive, captivating ‘travelloggs’!

    best, respectfully,
    *missing sounds of Tokyo – maybe the silent ones the most?* ^.^

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