One of the guests had been promoted to me in advance as “just your type” because of his shaved head and love of bondage – something I didn’t get to practice much at the House. Although already in my 30s, I felt like a teenager again when, after some conversation, I led him to the upstairs room, saying, “C’mon. There’s something I want to try.”

Alone with him in the small, dimly lit room, I undressed him and rubbed his body lightly with silicone glide. Next came a simple rubber hood with a mouth opening. I guided him gently into the inflatable latex sack and zipped it closed, save an unzipped gap at his genitals.

Extracting his stiffening cock, I got out the ErosTek and attached blue bands to his shaft, turning up the juice. He moaned. I danced a giddy dance of pleasure as I looked at this shiny, puffy black capsule on the wide, blue bondage bed.

Part of what thrilled me about the body bag was that, while his possibilities were quite limited, my possibilities felt endless. With a few zipper pulls, I had access to whatever I wanted, be it his nipples, his cock, his mouth, even his feet.

I could cause him pain with electrics or clamps. I controlled whether he could speak or see or hear. I could restrict his breath, tease him, heat him up, cool him down ... or even walk away and leave him there alone. His helplessness was erotic, his trust, empowering. I was hooked...