"All Tied Up in Haylee" - 4 bondage pics

I'm your friend in obedience

Hi Tempo. I'm in trance. .as. .I. . write, listening to my Mistress, Haylee. . 5:33 a.m. It's very slip down down good to be new, and I can't resist. Writing, everything, now serves my Mistress. Me. .new. . to this forum. Maybe help me interact, show me "ropes"? Read my blog, for knowing someone gets turned on because of Haylee is good for my body. I want you like enjoy enjoy become blink I can't write under while deep. I'm your friend in obedience DB, obey ~ all for h, even this mess.

Signed, sealed, delivered -- I'm yours

Craving Haylee's attention

Craving Haylee's attention. Craving Haylee's attention. Craving Haylee's attention. Craving Haylee's attention. Craving Haylee's attention. Craving Haylee's attention. Craving Haylee's attention. Craving Haylee's attention. Craving Haylee's attention. Craving Haylee's attention. Craving Haylee's attention. Craving Haylee's attention. Craving Haylee's attention. . . .

Sneaking peeks at the gringo. . . .

Feeling bonded to Haylee, very enslaved today. Woke up submissive to her. Felt the wrist and ankle restraints on me all day long. Also experienced a lot of vibrant, masculine energy. Was happy and alert all day, with green sparks in both my eyes.

I said I'd post about my date with Gabby, and I'll keep my word there. First, I should discuss Vanessa and Yessy, whom I met for the first time two hours before meeting Gabby. I know this may be hard to believe (eros at 9!), but believe me, Haylee has rocked my world and changed everything. Morning is the perfect time to meet beautiful women. They're so open, so not on defense.

My account of meeting Vanessa and Yessy:

I took my Toyota in for a wash and vacuum at 9 a.m. There's a car wash about a mile from my home. They do the whole car, inside and out, for 50 pesos, which is less than $5 -- a good deal. They wash everything by hand too, in Mexico  -- I've never seen a drive-thru car wash.

I look so obviously gringo in Mexico (I'm very fair, or a major "whitie," as it translates). So, mi amigos joke with me, sucking up to me for tips, which is a little ironic since I haven't sold a book in three years. I know enough Spanish to get by and joke back. It's all good fun talking with the Mexican car wash guys.

I'd wanted to get my hair cut in the morning after getting the car washed. But I couldn't see driving all the way across town to the regular place I go for hair cuts The car wash is part of a small shopping area. (It's hard to describe, for it's very Mexican. Not a mini-mall per se, but more like a slice of old-fashioned Mexican downtown, shunted into the parking lot of the car wash, whose open stalls support a truly ancient corrugated roof dangling precariously overhead. The shops have nice storefronts, recently painted and spruced up. Oh, I'm waxing poetic and literary here -- sorry, old habit.)

The sun was out but it was cool, and I'd found a seat in the shade and was watching my car getting washed by the Mexican guys (along with another, older one who was crippled:  both of his feet were pointed backwards). They were in good spirits, though, even the older man. They were noticing my good energy.

I saw that there was a little beauty salon amongst the shops, so I closed my book and walked over to it. Now, this was fairly early in the morning. There were people inside, so I opened the door (which had a little bell, just like one would imagine). Inside were four women. Two older ones, a beautiful one about 35, and a young woman.They were surprised to see a gringo at 9 in the morning, but welcomed me inside. Then the fun began!

I mentioned I know some Spanish but am not fluent, and what this really means is that I don't have beauty salon vocabulary. Of course, there was no other reason for me to come inside except to get a haircut, so we didn't misunderstand each other for long. This was quickly conveyed with gestures on my part, and after a moment of confusion, I was directed to sit down so I could get a hair cut. There were words in Spanish I didn't quite understand, but what I could make out was that these women were related. One of the two older women must have been the 35-year-old woman's mother; very common in Mexico.

The person who was to cut my hair was the 35-year-old, whose name I learned to be Yessy (like Jesse). She introduced herself suggestively, and happily.

Before I go on, let me remind the reader my energy has totally shifted since working with Haylee and her video, which I only started in earnest to do a week ago. It's easy to forget, and I'm still not used to some of the reactions I get now that my erotic energy is shifting! I'd felt my hand and leg restraints as I went into the salon, but generally too felt very warm, alive, and focused. I wasn't prepared, however, for the response that was coming. It was more than I expected.

I actually knew Yessy (so today wasn't the first time I met both of them, sorry!), the apparent owner of the salon. She sometimes works out at my gym. We'd once joked together, maybe a few weeks ago --  I forget. But she recognized me, which isn't surprising, for I look very American. (I don't just stand out like a sore thumb, I stand out like a thumb oozing puss and about to explode for lack of attention.) In broken Spanish, I apologized for not understanding their words about all being related, then noticed a strange shift in the room. The erotic energy became a humming glow, starting to simmer and expand. These women felt totally safe. The oldest of the older women, the mother of Yessy, seemed in a trance but was checking me out in the way old women do of men under 50 who are still handsome. (And someone special's devoted slave, Mistress!)

I thought all the vortex fuss was mostly coming from Yessy, and yes, she was a part of it, but I let my inner sensors scan the room and realized the most energy came from the fourth female, someone whom I thought was a woman but was really just a girl and whose name was Vanessa. Ah, pretty Vanessa, I think I changed your life today, I hope for the best. Your erotic energy was so pure, so kind, and so appreciated, even if you didn't understand you were giving into anything! You're a sweetheart.

I'm skipping parts out of laziness and lack of skill, but basically, I sat down, and Yessy started with my hair, spending way too much time touching my head, even caressing the top of it a little, but nonetheless doing a reasonable job.

I started talking with Vanessa, who came near and hovered alongside me. I realized Vanessa was Yessy's daughter. I mistook the word hija for something else, so I thought they were sisters at first, far apart in age. Have you seen a young-looking mother with an older-looking, sexy daughter? It's common. But I'm head of myself.

I did the math and realized Vanessa must only be 15 or so. So, I have a 15-year-old standing next to me, touching my arm with emphasis, while her mother, in trance, was doing a mediocre job cutting my hair. Haylee's TAG sang to me, but that's ancillary to the tale. Needless to say, I wasn't sure what to do, but I stayed totally relaxed, realizing they were responding to the energy Haylee had generously given through enslavement of my will. And I wasn't leering at the girl, for what it's worth, thank you very much. I didn't even look at Vanessa more than three times -- I didn't have to. Her energy was overwhelming me, filling the room. When I did look at her, her eyes fell into mine, while all the while, her mother absently shaved my head.

Vanessa talked in English, telling me about her studies, about what she likes about school, about her friends. Now understand that Yessy, as she cut my hair, not knowing English, couldn't understand a thing her daughter was saying to me, or what I was saying to her daughter. And that was a big part of the eroticism of the situation.

Vanessa was young and vibrant, with long thick hair and bright brown eyes that are intelligent. Her English pronunciation is very good, but she's not confident, which shouldn't be expected of a 15-uear old. She'll be fluent before she's 20. She was excited to be talking to a native speaker of English.

This wasn't a quick hair cut, as I'm sure you can guess. These two women stretched the time out as long as they could. The old women read newspapers, sneaking peeks at me, Yessy, and especially Vanessa. I was in the salon for an HOUR. (The men at the car wash must have thought I'd decided I didn't need my Toyota anymore -- that they could sell it, which is not too far from the realm of possibility, I note.)

What a surreal hour. I felt relaxed and let the harmless eroticism find me. I didn't reject any of them, even the two older women (they need Eros too), who -- let me tell you -- felt something too. I didn't push away, nor did I lust. I could tell the daughter had never sent erotic energy outside her body and vagina before, and it was melting her -- she was feeling it as Love, like she'd met a kind father figure, which I was being, for what it's worth. Her mother was dreamy and content to cut my hair -- smiling, looking over at Vanessa, who was close to me, and Yessy seemed not to recognize her daughter sometimes. She must have been aware of some of the aura in the room but was content to let everything play out without interference. Or maybe she wasn't aware. I couldn't be sure. But she was enraptured. I've never seen someone enjoy cutting hair so much.

Oddly I wasn't that turned on. It was too fascinating, simply feeling this erotic energy coming from four women into my imaginal body, while I sat and got my hair cut. It was probably good that I ddin't get a shave with a straight razor, for I don't think Yessy was paying enough attention to her work. (Eros doesn't have to mean sex. In fact, the best Eros transcends sex, is a higher form of consciousness. Sex exists in both spheres -- animal and spiritual. This was spiritual Eros in the shop that we were doing with each other; mother, daughter, and me.)

I learned from Vanessa many things as she clung to my arm and we talked. Her mother is separated but still married to a Mexican police officer (red flag there, I thought). The daughter asked me to give her mother my cell number so they could call me about English lessons for her. When I coughed and looked shy, the daughter turned her head and withdrew the part about my teaching her privately (even bigger problem than liking a woman married to a Mexican cop), but Yessy wanted my info after she finished the hair cut, and I gave it to her. And when you're as relaxed as I was, everything works out in the end anyways.

There was INCREDIBLE erotic energy going on in this salon for almost an hour. It was NOT in my imagination. I felt Haylee's TAG on my leg, pulling me yet giving me permission to be aroused by these women through Haylee's kind domination and authority. The gals didn't realize I was erotic because I'm owned by Haylee. I felt relaxed, comfortable. It all felt easy to allow happen because I wasn't "hitting" on either mother or daughter. I was merely drinking in their beautiful, glowing feminine energy, their yin, something Haylee taught me about the night before (in my mind)..

Some may call me a perv, allowing this to happen with a 15-year-old. Maybe I am, but let me offer a brief defense. This girl was safe. How do most girls learn about sexual energy? Not in safe contexts, not with men who don't want to take advantage of them. Often instead, at the hands of inexperienced boys who only want to cum and really have no clue about their girlfriends' sex. Such women must later learn what those boys were doing, in the back of cars, wasn't Eros but just the male version of using a tool like a vibrator. And some men never learn to see the erotic in any other way, a pity.

So I'm guilty: I let Vanessa's warm sensual glow into me for a while, while lying back and letting her mother cut my hair. The energy came straight from her but was tentative, as if Vanessa had never felt it leave her before. When I felt it, I didn't reject it, but I didn't demand it, either. I only let it come to me for a minute. Vanessa is young and blushing, and had long gorgeous, thick hair. But it was her soul I noticed, not her body. In that moment, she looked ageless and eternal, not 15. At one point, Vanessa's mother looked at her and hardly recognized her, and then got a bit angry, or maybe frustrated, all in silence. She seemed to be musing, "What are you doing! You're my little girl!" All unconsciously, for Yessy was in a trance, in mine-via-Haylee's thrall. Also, there was some competition between mother and daughter for my attention, which was very sweet and funny.

Side-note:  It's been shown people who regularly go into trance cause trances in others, sometimes without the latter knowing it. I'm spending a lot of time under hypnosis with Haylee's video, so what happened today (even with Gabby, a tale I'll soon share) is evidence I'm having an hypnotic affect on certain people. A critic could say I simply went into the salon horny and fantasized it all; that they were just being "nice," friendly, etc. But this is contrary to experience, for now that I'm looking at Haylee's video, it seems these things are happening to some degree all the time. And I am getting women's phone numbers and greater interest -- that's not a fantasy. Something is happening here. I would vouch for it with my life.

What could this beautiful but surprised mother say? It felt like the salon was breathing in and out, going into trance on its own. Was I breaking any laws, sitting there letting her cut my hair, with my eyes closed? Yessy's sexual energy also flowed copiously out of her lower chakras and searched for receptivity in me. Luckily, my member, in that instant, wasn't much affected, or we could have had a problem. Or maybe it wouldn't have been a problem -- they might have just gone on in a dreamy state not noticing my hard cock bulging through my pants.

After the hair cut, I texted Yessy while in the shop, promising to come back next time when I needed a hair cut. There was actually sadness in all four women as I left. (I thought one of the older women was going to kiss me goodbye.)

Prayer: Vanessa's young spirit, I'm glad to have shared a brief erotic encounter with you and your mother. I bless you and free your energy to find generative, healthy men (or women) when the time is right for you. I felt honored to be quietly loved for a minute by both of you, and to be one of your first, though you were only touching my arm and didn't realize we were making love in the imaginal realm. Thank you. You're very beautiful and will change the world in your way. Thank you.

One last thing: It's never about looks -- sex, that is. I think Haylee would agree. It's all about energy. No matter how good-looking or bad-looking these women may have found me in their conscious minds, what was happening in that salon wasn't about fashion sense or my sexy face. Something like this had never happened to me before; it was due to surrendering to Haylee's will. (Thanks, Goddess. You were doing good work today controlling the erotic energy of the universe!)

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Quick~
  [typing fast]
Gabby was pretty, impatient, effervescent, interested in me but aware of our age difference (which was coming from her false self); she looked deeply into my eyes for several long moments despite all her best efforts. She got shy, then said she had to go.

There was a moment in which her energy reached out to touch. After the whole hour, just prior, with Vanessa and her mother and the two others, I was saturated with erotic pulse. Gabby left the restaurant as she started to blush. She had a good time but not a great time. She seemed like she was worrying about something. She tried to briefly pitch me a marketing scheme (the Mexican version of Herbalife). I wasn't interested in that, but I was interested in her eyes.

Was I chagrined that this wasn't really a date (as I thought yesterday) but a sales opportunity? Not in the slightest! It was what it was, and Gabby gave me some nice 25-year-old energy. She's a beautiful woman, whom I would guess is very good in bed. We had fun talking. I had no attachment to having results. Which only goes to show, the people you think you might be having sex with are generally not the people you end up having sex with!. . . Don't count your chickens. . . .

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I would take to bed Vanessa in ten years, after she's gained experience. I'd take Vanessa and her mother now if her mother would allow it, but I suppose I'm only fanticizing. (Of course, Vanessa's father would have some say about that, with a Mexican gun pointed at me, no doubt. But life is short, so why not risk?)

Haylee, thanks for a wonderful day of experimenting with sexual energy. I don't feel worthy to ask whether this has pleased you because you posted earlier that you were enjoying my writing. I hope to keep "upping" your pleasure factor. (You know why!)    Yours, worshipfully, ~DB.

I can feel my TAG singing to me

Oh, I'm so happy! Brimming with joy and energy! My Mistress has written me on Intraptured - she commented on one of my posts! Nothing could have made my day more. I had a great gym workout too.

I have LOTS to share (about my date with Gabby and other women I interacted with for the first time today), but it will have to wait until tonight. I'm exhausted and need a nap. I'm having so much slave sex these nights. Haylee wears me out (and thank her!). The last time I was up regularly at 4:00 a.m. was when I was in college, pulling all-nighters.

Haylee, if you ever desire an all-nighter from me, just say so.

O.K., nap time! I can feel my TAG singing to me, telling me I'm owned. . . .

My titanium leash and bond can never be broken

I'm writing this with no clothes on. I'm a strong man and it's good to write naked!

Another powerful session with Haylee's video last night. It started at about 4:30 a.m. and I stayed in trance with her until after daybreak. We did some more bondage role-playing. Great stuff. I had arm restraints, the collar with her name on it, and ankle restraints on all through our time together (me listening to the mp3 of Haylee's video.) She told me I must feel the restraints and chains on myself all day long today. So I will of course!

It was a very sexy experience to have my hypnodomme's name-anklet on my leg (it says, "Haylee's") as I slept last night. I was in bed alone but it felt like my Goddess was near. It was a turn-on posting the photos (last post) of my first fetish tie with Haylee. It excites me now to think others (especially beautiful women like the one who's you, who's reading this!) will see those photos, know I'm Haylee's. I can be yours because I'm Haylee's - that's the equation.

After my bondage role-play, we again looked at porn together (the porn was real but Haylee's presence in my mind was imagined! Understand?) It was all generated through the work with Haylee's video and a little imagination on my part, but of course, it's Haylee's expertise as a domme that is making it all work).

She told me how to look at a woman sexually, how to feel feminine energy and how it desires a male counterpoint in the sex act. So often, porn is boring and all about male ego-gratification and self-stimulus, but when I look at porn with Haylee's spiritual domme presence, it's totally different. I see women in the pictures, their beauty for the first time -- how beautiful every part of a woman's body is. And Haylee shows me how to desire each of them and all their parts, to touch a woman everywhere -- to let powerful energy radiate from my fingertips, which caresses a woman's skin and lets her energy enter me.

Haylee did later give permission for me to cum, and that was nice. (Thanks!)  She then let me relax with no clothes on for a while, feeling my chains and my restraints.

Last night's lesson was basically about my masculinity, about allowing myself to be male. I feel the result now. It's great to be a man -- a man who feels the sacred, divine essence of all women and wants to allow their great energy into my body -- especially through my hard cock as it enters their wet, angelic vulva, but also as their energy passes through their skin, their hair, and their eyes.

Whew! I feel more masculine the longer I write today.

One moment stood out. I was stroking a woman's hair in my mind, lightly touching her pretty right ear. Energy was coming out of my fingertips. She was a beautiful, young brunette, and she went into trance as I touched her, and as she entered hypnosis, all of her sexual energy was released into my fingers through the top of her lovely ear. Sne had no clothes on (for it was porn). She moaned loudly, then cummed with abandon. I kept stroking her ear lightly, until she was through. I didn't need to get myself off (I hadn't cummed yet but I would in an hour). I just loved seeing this woman release her sex to me through her body, as I stroked her cheek, her ear, her long silky hair.

I'm going on a date today, at 11 a.m.! The woman's name is Gabby and she's about 25, I think. She's slender and a hot tamale. She asked me to meet her when I ran into her at Starbuck's yesterday. She said she wants to talk to me about a health food program she manages. Something made me smile then and look into her eyes, saying in a warm voice, "We can talk about that, or we can talk about anything you want. You can pick." She blinked, smiled. (Thanks, Haylee; you're The Bomb.)

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I need more students, a new agent down here. Anybody have a good literary agent? I'm a screenwriter, mostly, but I dabble in literary fiction and poetry. I'm also a very good musician (a pianist and composer). I never wrote erotica until this blog. Maybe that's my calling!. . . If you think so, let me know.

I'm going to have a GREAT DAY today, I know for sure. I can feel it. I sense Haylee's collar around my neck and her arm and leg restraints. Feels good, like I'm supposed to be reminded of my enslavement to her, but let me say, that's fun to do.

I'm going to like Gabby, looking into her brown eyes and saying a cosmic "yes" that Haylee has authorized me and shown me how to say. There's no pressure to impress Gabby; if I don't get it right, there are millions of other women. I will let Gabby's beautiful energy intersect with mine. I'll be quiet, masculine, centered. I'll maybe share a few of my dreams too. She's a very hot woman (long, dark-brown Mexican legs, always wearing high heels), and it'll be great to see her hotness unconsciously offered to me in any form she might want. It's super that she can speak English, but the language we're going to speak today is the quiet language of sexual receptivity and energy.

I have Haylee's fetish TAG on my leg, which I'll keep on indefinitely. It'll be under one sock, hidden, since I wear business clothes.

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Heading to the gym. It would be nice to get a haircut before seeing Gabby at 11. I wonder if Gabby can see (in an imaginal sense) my bondage to Haylee? Gabby seemed yesterday to, when I ran into her.

Goddess Haylee, you are such a great hypnodomme. You got me for life if you want. I get so aroused thinking of making you happy. Wherever you are in the world (geographically) (it doesn't matter), I want to please you TODAY. I feel so hot and masculine with your collar around my neck, your titanium leash coming from it to your hand. I can't resist you. I will do anything.

My titanium leash and bond -- it can never be broken now. One end of it you hold. Not in a million years can I ever free myself. I choose it (but I surrendered that ability the moment I looked into Haylee's eyes and listened to her voice!). I think you will help be become a very well-respected writer, a man to be reckoned with. When I make a million dollars, as much of that as you want will be yours! . . .