Wednesday, May 12, 2010

On Parade In Fur

First off, I will say that I didn't write this.  I found this years ago on the old NTC message board and ended up saving a copy of it.  I can't very if it is truth or fiction or a combination of the two (embellished truth).

I do think it is a fairly interesting read if your mind works anything like mine does.  What is quite striking is the Domme's ability to get into his head.  She knows exactly what to say and do to heighten his awareness of the situation and make him squirm.  Basically, it's a near-perfect mind fuck.  At the same time, its perfection is what may make it fiction.  Who knows.

The post was entitled:  On Parade In Fur.

A couple years ago, my wife decided that we would go to the Grey Cup, which is the annual Canadian Football League final game. It is a week long celebration, and that year it was in Regina. In November. Which
means it was cold!

There is always a parade, and we wanted to go and see it. But when it came time to get dressed to leave the motel room, my wife told me that she wanted me to wear her fur coat. Her long, Blue Fox fur coat. I had not even realized that she had brought it with her, but she opened her extra suitcase, and there it was.

I told her that I could not possibly wear it, it was a girl's coat!  She made it crystal clear to me that I would wear it or else! And one minute later, I WAS wearing it, as she did up the row of fasteners.  That completed, she got the matching hat, and put it on my head, and finally, she reached for the muff, and with it, a handfull of those plastic wire ties that tradesmen use for securing almost everything.

These were larger, heavier, thicker ties than I had seen before. She quickly put one about each wrist, and pulled them almost snug, with just a tiny bit of slack, but they were obviously not going to come off without being cut off.

Next, she slipped one extra long wire tie under the each of the wrist ties, threaded them through the huge blue fox muff, and then threaded the pointed end of each tie into the clasp of the other. She simply grabbed the two pointed ends, one in each hand, and pulled them apart.  My hands were drawn tightly into the muff, until they were pulled completely together. She carefully cut the ends of the ties that were sticking out of the muff, and then got herself ready to go.

She had to open the motel room and car doors for me. I was all wrapped up in her furs, and quite unable to get my hands free to do anything for myself.

Regina is an easy town to drive around in, and we quickly arrived at the place where we had planned to watch the parade. We were just about settled, when my wife decided to cross the street, to watch from the
other side.

There were few people around, and we were soon at her chosen spot. We stood right on the curb, behind the barriers. There would be no one in front, blocking our view.

My wife bent down, apparently to tie her boots. Before I knew what she was doing, she had slipped two of the heavy plastic cable ties around my ankles, binding them tightly together. And then, to my amazement,
she took a short length of dull chain, and locked one end of the chain around a nearby parking metre post, and locking the other end to the cable ties securing my ankles. "There you are", she said.

She then explained that she planned to watch the parade from the other side of the street, because the sun would be in her eyes on this side.  But she said she thought that I should be on this side, and that the bright sun would make it easier for the television cameras that would be coming along with the parade, to get clear  pictures of me. And they would, she assured me, want to take lots of shots of the girl shrouded in the huge soft warm fur coats, head to toe. Hopefully, none of the shots will be really tight close ups, or some of your friends back home and at work may get quite a surprise!

"Don't be looking around, or at the ground, or people will think you are behaving oddly, and that will only get more attention. Watch the parade, and smile. If you don't, I will go back to the motel room without you, and you can stay here until you have to ask the police to cut you free."

She went back across the street, and smiled at me. The sidewalks were beginning to fill up, and within three hours, the parade had passed.
I had not been discovered. I had stood, bound and helpless, the whole time. No one stood in front of me. I was in full view. A fine looking girl, shrouded in a cloud of huge soft fur. The tapes of the parade showed that VERY clearly.

As everyone else was dispersing, she came back over, told me she was going for a coffee and a sandwich, and I could stay there and wait. I did, for another hour. Finally, she was back, bending over to tie her
boots, and quickly snipping the cable ties and releasing the locks. It was all done in seconds.

She put her hand in the crook of my furry elbow, and led me back to the car, where she described what "rewards" I would get when we got back to the motel.


  1. True or not it's a good story.

  2. It is an impressive scenario. She seemed to employ almost every method possible to make him self-conscious about the situation, which is probably the most torturous part of experiences like these.

    I actually discovered this story shortly before I was involved in the lifestyle browsing for pictures of women in fur and I really didn't know what to make of it at that time. Later on I realized how powerful it really was.