No, this one isn't a piece of fiction, as might be suspected due to its melodramatic title. Rather, this will be my attempt to put into chronological order my interest in bondage and its intersections with the rest of my sex life.
Granted if you've read the erotic story I post on here in bits and pieces, or even just that more recent post about Nate, you've probably gotten some idea that I'm into bondage...
That's a boring and terrible beginning to this post. Restart:
I was rubbing my hard cock through my pants and staring intently at the screen. The website in front of me was covered in hundreds, if not thousands, of pictures of naked women provocatively displayed. For a 12 year old boy, it was a godsend. I clicked on one, and was immediately brought to another gallery.
There was a distinct pause as I took in what I saw and realized what it was. As I stared in wide mouthed, open eyed ecstasy, I nearly jizzed my pants...
Once again, to sample more of my wonderful writing, follow the jump...
When I was around 7 or 8 or so, I had a pair of cheap plastic handcuffs. I had begged for them in the toy aisle of the neighborhood drug store. They were pathetic, almost glow in the dark green things, with an obvious safety lock on the sides. But I loved to handcuff myself with them and struggle to get free. Until one day, my friend Aaron was over, and he handcuffed my hands above my head over a low hanging dogwood branch, so that I was up on my tiptoes. In what I then considered to be an impressive display of strength for an 8 year old, I pulled down sharply, snapping the weak plastic link in the center and freeing myself. More likely, between the weight of my body and the weakness of the chain, it was a miracle it hadn't snapped before. Regardless, I just remember this sense of profound disappointment as I looked down at the now broken handcuffs around my wrists and realized they would never hold me again.
Brian was one of my best friends growing up and he lived, conveniently, 5 houses up the street from me. And that's if you count both of our houses. We would play hockey, legos, pool, soccer, chess, and computer games together all the time. We would build massive snow forts during the winter and have epic snow wars. We would form secret clubs that only the two of us and one other kid (who lived 2 house further up) were members of. And, between the ages of 9 and 11, we would tie each other up with bungee cords in his basement.
It was a game. One of us would tie the other, he would struggle to get free, and when he succeeded, he would tie up the first one. And so it would continue. Until one time, I couldn't get free. I struggled viciously, but the bonds were just too tight. So, my friend dragged me into the basement bathroom, tossed me in the shower, and turned it on and didn't turn it off until I was screaming for help. At the time, it felt like forever. Looking back, it couldn't have been more than 15 seconds. I wasn't even that wet when he dragged me out and untied me.
Brian also was the first one to introduce me to the concept of porn. The 12 or so images he had saved on his computer and the one copy of, I think it was, Maxim were all softcore images. "Dude, if you zoom in a lot, I think you can see a pixel or two of her nipple!" ... "I think that might just be the shadow from her hand." He also explained to me that when you got older, hair grew on your balls. And it itched.
During this time, I had gotten another pair of toy handcuffs, this one metal (most drug stores still sell them, they're like seven bucks). I was also in cub scouts at the time (I was ten years old, we were Webelos). I, for the record, was a great scout. I got 19 or 20 of the 20 little pins they had for Webelos.
Anyways, one weekend in May, my dad volunteered me for Beaver Day up at the local campsite (where everything gets set up for the summer). Two of my friends in my den, Charlie and Dennis, as well as Dennis' mom and his little sister Erin, would be joining us. Just in case things got boring, I brought my handcuffs with me.
We spent all day setting up tents, handcuffing Erin to trees or benches or whatever just to keep her out of the way. She was a good sport about it, and actually seemed to enjoy it. My dad noticed and told us to knock it off.
At night, we put three cots in a tent, and Charlie, Dennis, and I piled in. The cots were heavy metal things and were pressed up against one another to form one giant metal bed. We put our sleeping bags on it, and hopped in, and I had my trusty handcuffs with me.
Well, the night turned out to be unseasonably warm, especially inside my sleeping bag, so I kicked off my shorts to the bottom of my bag. As I lay naked there between my friends, I had a strange urge to put on my handcuffs. So, I cuffed myself to the iron cot and went to sleep.
When I woke up, I thumbed the safety locks of my handcuffs, I found they wouldn't open. In a panic, I kicked Dennis awake, who after laughing at me for a few minutes, got my dad who opened them for me.
Both of my friends ended up quitting Scouts about a year apart from one another. I later ran into Charlie again, who had since come out as flamingly, fabulously, "oh-my-god-I-love-musical-theater" gay. And his first time was with Dennis. So yeah, turns out, Scouts is pretty gay.
Regardless, I eventually turned 12 years old. New school, new friends, and oh my god, what is this gunk shooting out of my penis in the tub? Seriously, first time I jacked off, I was so confused. I was taking a bath, soaping up my penis, and it stiffened and felt good, so I soaped it some more until I started spasming. It felt amazing, and then I looked down and saw this fluid coming from my penis and swirling in the bath water. My first thought; "holy crap, I got soap up my penis! I better squeeze it all out!" As first reactions go, I think I could have done better. After carefully running my fingers up and down my cock squeezing out all the "soap." I toweled off, got dressed, and then realized that I had just had my first orgasm.
It was around this time the dreams started. Of me being naked, and that girl from class being naked, or that boy from class being naked. And sometimes I was tied up, and sometimes she was in chains, and sometimes he held a leash that went to my neck. I had no idea what these dreams meant, only that I really liked them.
Back then, every weekend I'd hang out with my two best friends from middle school, Fred and George. At Fred's dad house he had the entire third floor to himself, and, since he was a computer geek, he had an entire room filled with computers. Every time we got together, the three of us would play massive tournaments of Starcraft. Sometimes, we'd play other games, Command & Conquer, Age of Empires II, etc, but Starcraft was the one constant.
After we played though, the three of us each on our computers at three in the morning some Saturday night would look at porn. It was the only consistent way for any of us to get porn, and though Fred never seemed as interested (maybe it was because he only had to walk from his bed to the computer, whereas we had to come over to his house?), George and I were fascinated by what we saw.
Then, one night, while flipping through the galleries, I saw her. She was a blond girl, bound by leather to a table, with a blindfold over her eyes and clamps on her nipples. Everything suddenly clicked, all those dreams I had, all those fantasies of being tied up or of tying someone up, they were all about sex.
I immediately started googling everything I saw in that pic. Ropes, chains, nipple clamps, etc. What turned up was a lot of erotic fiction, stories of power and control and bondage and torture. And I loved it. It was then that I learned what words like "bondage," "bdsm," and other such things were. And more importantly, it was then that I learned that those kinky things really turned my crank.
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