LadyJo was the first woman I had met who had purchased her own latex hood and custom Maxcita latex bondage sack. Needless to say, I was impressed and quite excited to talk with her. We were both attending a House of Gord bondage party in early 2003, and after some formal introductions, we both headed straight for the playroom.

There was no doubt in my mind that if she had enough interest to purchase her own Maxcita gear, she would find the gear I had brought to the party very exciting as well. In no time flat I had her restrained in a heavy Cocoon latex hood, Madame-S latex straitjacket and leather muzzle, and tightly bound to a straight back wooden chair with a set of heavy leather straps from Mister-S. I then positioned the chair in front of a big mirror so she could enjoy her own visual erotica, and ran a chain from the top of her muzzle to a bolt in the ceiling for good measure.

I pulled out my camera to document this marvelous sight, however, within a matter of minutes the quietness of the playroom was shattered by the sounds of LadyJo's orgasmic ecstasy , and the creaking of the leather the straps as she strained tightly against the chair. Unbelievable! LadyJo's spontaneous eruption seemed to come from nowhere, without warning, and caught me off guard. Luckily I had fettered the top of her muzzle to the ceiling or she would have knocked over the chair. It was quite apparent that she was enjoying her helpless latex predicament, and I immediately came to the conclusion that she was a connoisseur of bondage - to the highest degree!

The following are the words are of LadyJo as she shares her intimate bondage secrets, along with photos from our bondage play at the Gord party.

Peace and security are not words usually associated with extreme bondage. This is my happy place, though. It’s a zone where I can completely relax my body and brain. The tighter the constriction, the more restricted my limbs are, the less I have to *think* and can allow myself to relax those all too tight bindings of self control. “Permission” so to speak. Losing the actual ability to move in any way, shape or form, gives me the permission I need to detach from the real world and drift in a warm comfortable cocoon of safety and security.

As a young child, I would roll myself in my blankets and quilts until I could barely wiggle. I would roll myself off my bed onto some pillows on the floor between the wall and the bed and drift away happily into sleep. Of course Mom thought it was a pain to untangle me in the morning, but she never got truly angry. Just a bit perturbed at my messing up the covers. I didn’t do it often, at least I don’t remember doing it a lot, but I do remember the warm comforting feeling of being hugged all night long.

I discovered bondage late in life. I hadn’t even really fantasized about it or thought about my *swaddling* of myself in times of stress as being bondage.

It was simply the only way I had found to calm my mind and body enough to relax enough to mediate. I have one of those minds that seem to run on high octane 99% of the time. When life starts becoming overwhelming, I need a way to shut down all the processing until I can get my perspective back. It was a therapist I was seeing when I was in the process of ending my 14 year marriage who first mentioned the correlation of my swaddling myself with some forms of bondage. Being the liberal minded person I was, I didn’t *gasp* in shock at the suggestion, but decided to do some research instead. One of the first *hits* I got on the internet was the House of Gord. That was my first view of extreme bondage. I knew this was an area I needed to explore more, but I wasn’t about to allow strangers to put me in what I could tell was an extremely vulnerable position. Who knew what awful things they may want to do to me!! Considering some of what I could see on the internet, I realized I had to educate myself before I would ever feel comfortable allowing someone else to take me *there*.

I entered the world of BDSM through a wonderful organization, Black Rose in Washington DC in March of 1998. I didn’t come into this through a need for sexual expression or acceptance. Those were bonuses I discovered as I was allowed to learn and grow as an individual. I’m a very assertive and social person, so I didn’t have any problem asking questions, requesting *demos* and being cute and perky helped a lot too.

I soon found someone I connected with on a more intimate level and then the real fun began.

I discovered how bondage not only made me feel safe, but it also enhanced everything else that could be done *to* me. Being bound by my lover, reveling in their freedom to tease, tantalize and overwhelm my senses without my being able to do anything other than react was intoxicating, to say the least.

The heady scents of leather and rubber. The muffled *clicks* and squeaking of the gear as straps were buckled and tightened. The progression of unyielding layers of restriction. The final immobility. I can’t move, therefore I don’t have to think or worry about it. Once the bondage has given me the permission to let those controls go, I’m free to relax and float in my mind.

My favorite gear for extreme bondage includes having my face and head covered as well. Hoods, gags, blindfolds allow me to focus inward. Cutting off outside distractions is just as important to me as restricting my ability to do anything about them when it comes to sensory deprivation. It can be devastatingly delicious to bring the mind to focus on a particular sense when all the others are cut off.

The human form in bondage has an aesthetic to me that transcends erotica. The enforced “stillness” appeals to me. Reducing the distractions of perceived imperfections of shape, movement or physical appearance with various materials allows me to bring my own imagination into play as an artist as well. There is simplicity of beauty in an immobilized body. The minds eye is free to view at its leisure, letting the imagination wander on its own path. Details that may not be immediately obvious become a focus when the larger picture is reduced to a single perfectly bound limb.

When I see someone in inescapable, heavily restricted bondage or when I’m put into it myself, my first thoughts are *calm, serene, peace*. Next are *safety, security, comfort*

This is my happy place. Welcome to my world.

LadyJo