We have a chain hoist in our garage. The garage is detached from the house, and serves more as a workshop than for automobile storage, though garage was its original purpose when it was built. Anyway, because of this, it’s not the dingy, dirty place you might envision when you think of parked cars and clutter. Instead, it’s well-lit, has heat in the winter, and even the floor is neatly swept to make sure wood shavings, sand, sawdust and any random insects that crawl in are evicted.
The chain hoist is set into a beam in the ceiling. It is basically a system of pulleys with a chain run through them and a hook attached at the end. Chain hoists come in a wide variety, and are used for all sorts of heavy-lifting purposes. I use mine for lifting up my lawn tractor to be able to change the mower blades and for lifting heavy projects when I work. Ours is the 1 ½ ton model, rated to lift that amount of weight, though I’ve never really tested its limit.
Hmmm…chain with a hook on the end…set in the ceiling…what does that possibly bring to mind?
Yes, you’re right. It brings bondage to mind. At least, it brings bondage to my mind. Others may not have quite the same thought process as me!
Anyway, Joy has, upon occasion, spent a fair amount of time in the garage with her wrists cuffed and pulled above her head, attached to the hook on the end of the chain hoist. Sometimes she has been blindfolded or gagged, and sometimes not. Regardless, it is quite exhilarating to have her standing there, bound and helpless, as I strip off her clothing piece by piece. The garage feels somehow much more exposed than the bedroom, and consequently fear, humiliation and arousal mix within her, creating a potent cocktail of excitement.
Of course, if I’m going to tie her hands overhead and then remove her clothing, I need to be sure that she’s wearing exactly the right outfit or we’ll run into trouble with getting the shirt and bra off. Halter tops can be a blessing sometimes! The alternative, which I’ve tried precisely once, is a nice pair of scissors and utter disregard for the state of the clothing after it has been removed. It was fun, but bras are expensive!
While hoists like ours can come with a motor to automatically raise and lower the hook, I don’t regard those as safe for bondage purposes (I envision the engine somehow getting stuck on). Ours is manual. I pull on one side of the chain to take up the slack, and the pulleys overhead transfer and magnify the force I exert. If I put together the proper bondage rig, there is no doubt that it could be used for full suspension. However, to date I have not gone there.
To be honest, suspension bondage doesn’t call to me. I tend to want to focus on practical bonds that allow me to make Joy physically helpless and take full advantage of that fact, and while the idea of suspension increases the helplessness aspect, it seems to trade off the practicality. I think suspension might be one of those things that appeals more to bondage purists, who regard the bonds and ropes themselves as the ultimate goal. For me, bondage is more of a means to an end. I don’t know what Joy would think of it–perhaps I ought to ask her.
Instead, we have focused more on spanking and corporal punishment. It is delicious to be outside of our house in a more “exotic” location. Joy definitely feels out in the open, even though all doors are closed and no one can really see. And there’s something about the hoist itself and the clacking noise it makes as the chain runs over the pulleys, taking up the slack and drawing Joy’s hands inexorably higher and higher, until she must stand on tiptoe. She cannot move much at all, and as the switch or paddle or crop comes down across her bare bottom, she can only dance slightly on her toes and await the next stroke.
When we are done, I usually settle for a nice blow job, typically with her on her knees and her hands bound behind her back. The floor is clean, but it’s still bare concrete, and it would be awfully cold to lay Joy down and use her more fully. Not that I haven’t been tempted, mind you.
I think part of the lure for Joy of being bound, spanked and used for sex in the garage/workshop is that it is such a man’s place. The idea of being taken to my lair, where she is surrounded by tools and wood scraps and enveloped by the scent of oil and sawdust, makes her feel small, out of her element, and overpowered. There’s a tinge of fear there for her, I think, but it’s the good kind of fear, the kind that informs her she’s lost control and cannot regain it. Atmospheric touches like this are small, but carry more weight than one might think.
I have considered many times installing a smaller chain hoist in the playroom ceiling to replace the hook we have there. It’s over kill, I know, and so far I’ve resisted the urge, but it certainly sounds fun.