One day when the work day was winding down to an end, I kept seeing him throughout the store. Trying to get up the courage to do what I was going to do. My stomach kept doing loopty loos, adrenaline coursed through my veins far faster than it was meant to. I went into the back room to clock out, knowing that he was closing the store that night; I waited in the break room, unsure of how he would react to my questioning.
He walked passed, not seeing me standing off to the side. “Hey Sam!” I asked timidly. “Oh hey! I thought you had gone home,” he said in his usual friendly manner.
“Do you want to take me home and tie me up?” And there it was, out in the open.
His face got a little tensed, mixed with shock, and just a second later he said, “Uh, yeah!” I told him I would wait for him in the break room until he got off work, and he walked off to get his job done, in what I can imagine a hurry. I went back and sat in the break room, twiddling my thumbs, nervous as hell. I couldn’t focus, waiting for him to come get me. Finally, 10 p.m. hit. After everyone had gotten off, he came to the break room door way and stood there as I gathered my belongings. I was grabbing my arms in a hug, trying to keep myself calm, in anticipation for the night. He let all the other associates out, and they looked at me curiously, knowing I had been off for at least an hour.
As we walked to his car, the air was silent. He opened my side so I could get in and shut the door for me, then circled around the back of the car and got in on his side. As we pulled out of the parking lot, in the opposite direction of my house, I reached over and grabbed his hand, partly to calm myself down and partly to show him some affection, letting him know that this is what I wanted.
While the air was tense, it was a good tense, filled with possibilities. We pulled up to his house and I sat in anticipation while he walked around to my side and opened the car door, then we went in and straight to his room. He left for a few moments, and I took that time to look around. It had a dark floor, bed, desk, T.V. with stand, and over in the corner was a large pile of neatly coiled and bundled rope. Additionally, there were a few items alongside the rope that I had no clue to what there purpose was. My back to the door, I absorbed everything around in wonder and anticipation when he entered the room again.
“How do you feel?” He asked the question with a hint of doubt in his voice.
“Nervous. Excited. Curious.” All of it was true. There was a huge mixture of emotions rummaging around in me. I turned around to smile at him, only a very nervous smile appeared on my face. “So what do we do now?”
He took a minute to look at me, observe me.
“What we do really depends upon what you would like. What you feel like trying and what you feel comfortable with.” He said it matter-of-factly. “The things that I do to you won’t happen without your consent.”
“I’m honestly not sure how any of this is supposed to go. I’ve never done anything like this, or remotely close to this. But I do want to at least try.” I felt glad that I was comfortable enough that I could speak my mind.
“If you would like, we can go slow; step by step. I can talk you through everything, and you can say yes or no to whether or not you are comfortable with it. And I won’t do anything to you that could even remotely hurt you, not until you’re used to everything that we have done and not until you want it.” His gaze was intense and it made me smile.
“Okay, well let’s get started.” I said eagerly.
Same went over to the corner and selected a few bundles of rope. Each section of rope at both ends right next to each other, and were fused with a complimentary piece of tape so that the rope wouldn’t fray and stayed neat. He quickly grabbed one end of a length, flung it out to the side just like it was a whip, and it came neatly undone. Reaching down he grabbed the other end of the rope, put the ends together, and proceeded to run the rope together, side by side, through his hand until it finished at the end with a perfect loop. This left the exact same amount of rope on each side, and he had done it all so fast that I was a little stunned.
Reaching around me he asked if I would like it if he ran the length of rope between my legs so that it would go between my cheeks and up my lady. He told me it was called a crotch rope, for obvious reasons.
“If you want to, I do.” I couldn’t believe how bold I was being, and he seemed a little in awe also because his jaw went ever so slack and he sucked in a slight breath. He quickly threaded the two ends through the attached hoop and pulled it tight around my waist. Getting down on his knees he reached between my legs, cupping my butt, pulling the length far up and hooked it over the same length around back. He quickly pulled it back down through my cheeks and up my front again where he branched off each end, wrapping it around each thigh and pulling it tight enough that it constricted on itself, making there no need for a knot.
“Is that tight enough for you?” He asked breathing hard in my ear.
“Tighter.” I said, making it a challenge, and he smiled a very devious smile back at me. He undid his work and he kept making it tighter and I kept telling him to go tighter, until he said he wouldn’t tighten it any further, just in case I didn’t know how far I really wanted to go.
In a matter of minutes, he had me tied up from head to toe, attached to a chair. As he stood back to admire his craftsmanship, his face went from smug to awe in split second as he said, “God you’re so damn beautiful.”
I looked down and my tied up body, shying away from his passionate gaze, but I still felt his eyes penetrating me to my soul. I was an inferno as my blood rushed to my face. He crouched down in front of me and said, “I’m going to let you out now, okay?”
Not sure what was coming next, I nodded to him, as he put his face against my denim covered thigh and licked it, followed by a short, sweet kiss. He had me out in far faster time than it had taken him to get me into the compromising position in the first place. He hugged me, kissing the top of my head and I felt his body quiver ever so slightly.
“So, you really never have sex with the women that you tie up?”
“No, I don’t. I have my reasons, and they are to both protect me and protect my submissives.” He said in a factual and final tone. I decided not to press that matter. This experience was amazing and so completely erotic that I didn’t want it to end.
“I want you to tie me up again.”
“You’re kidding? You’re a newbe, not exactly someone that wants to try more their first time. But I’m not one to complain.” He grabbed me and explained how this one he was going to put me in was just an art form involving rope. He told me it was called Shibari. He then compared it to how paper has its own art form of origami, and so do many other things, just like rope is to shibari. It was an amazing, beautiful, exotic, erotic thing watching him work with the rope. Everything was perfectly even, precisely placed and beautifully arranged. Down the front of my body was a compilation of diamonds and hearts, pulled tight and separated by rope coming from all angles. It was the exact opposite of messy. Everything mirrored itself, and it was finished off with my wrists tied behind my back, at the top of my ass. Running his strong hands over my thighs, and calves, and going up and gently grasping my butt as he licked my jeans again and rested his face against one cheek. Again, he told me he was going to let me out and again I told him I wanted more.
I was fascinated and quickly addicted to the feeling of him touching me, of being trussed up so tight that it felt like a warm hug. And amazingly, I trusted him. Coming over to his house, I was nervous as hell, but quickly he showed me (in a weird way) how to be treated.
Four times. He tied me up a total of four times because I asked him for more each time. I was enjoying learning about all the different positions one could achieve and I was enjoying how much he was touching me, how he kept looking at me with appreciation and intensity. Granted, I felt a little disappointed that we weren’t really going to have sex, but at the same time it felt right.
As he drove me home we were both completely silent. It wasn’t awkward, it was comfortable, content. We held hands as I leaned on his shoulder over the middle consul. It was four or five in the morning, I don’t remember exactly, and when he dropped me off I popped out the screen window to my bedroom and opened the window which I had left slightly ajar. I crawled into bed, but I did not sleep. My mind was racing with all that we had done. It was epic in every way and I didn’t know how to process it all.
Soon my alarm sounded for me to get up and get ready for school. I hadn’t managed to fall asleep, but oddly enough, I wasn’t really tired. The first class of the day was human anatomy, oddly enough. Daydreaming was all that my teacher could get from me. I kept looking down at my wrists, seeing the intricate little pattern the rope had left on my virgin wrists, untouched by anything else. I traced the pattern with a smile and kept replaying the events of the night over and over in my head. The next few classes went this way, until I saw Jamie. I told her what had happened and she seemed really excited for me. I gave her a play by play and we talked girl talk like most teenage girls do at that age.
At the time, I had a vast amount of work release classes so I would only have one or two classes a day before I was released to go to work. I was excited to see Sam, not sure how he would act towards me the morning after our erotic night. I went over to check stand four where the schedule for the checkouts would be taped up and looked to see what time he worked. I had a short shift, 11-2 and I saw that he would get in at 1:30. It would be nice to see him, if only for a little while. 1:30 came and went and I had yet to see him walk in. I started to worry about maybe he was going to avoid me by calling in or coming in late. My shift ended and I started to bag out my till. I went to the far end register so that someone else could get on mine and I felt my spirits drop. I was facing opposite of the entrance to the store, when I felt a tickling of my hair. My heart pounded as Sam walked in front of me, smiling down at me, knowingly. I instantly blushed and he quickly did his little tapping thing without really noticing. “How are you feeling?” he asked, hopeful. “I haven’t really been able to stop thinking about last night. And I’ve been admiring your handiwork,” saying the last part with a gesture of me rubbing my wrists appreciatively. He smiled a wicked smile at my wrists. “I wouldn’t mind having more fun tonight also.” His eyes widened, then let me know that I could count on it.
I went home for a while, after which I told my parents that I had to go and close the store. I drove to the parking lot of Big-Mart and sat, waiting for him to come out. As he closed the store up, letting all of the employees out, he kept looking over to my car. After everyone had left, he walked over to my car, and opened my door for me. Grabbing my hand, he helped me out and pulled me toward him, planting a shameless kiss on my lips. When he pulled away he looked deep into my eyes and slid his hand into mine. It felt amazing to hold his hand as he pulled me towards his car. Opening my door again, I stepped in and he shut it. He walked around to his side and got in, but before I had a chance to buckle up he reached over and grabbed the belt, getting right up into my face with his. Intoxicatingly slow, he pulled the belt tight over my crotch until the clasps met. He then pulled it extra tight for good measure and said, “Nice and tight, you’re not going anywhere.”
A week later, we both decided that we wanted to be boyfriend and girlfriend. I didn’t understand what I did to find such an amazing guy. He opened doors for me, pulled out my chair, defended me; all of which no man had ever done for me before. For a long time I thought I had to play games with him, because I was still confused, and at one point I asked him to never give up on me. That no matter what I ever said that I loved him and didn’t want to be with anyone else. He told me if I felt that way that he would never let me go either.
We both agreed that it would be best if not a lot of people at work knew about our relationship, because technically he was my direct manager. Even with that, people figured it out and gave us a lot of grief over it.
He stayed true to his word and many times I wondered if he was lying about how he had never had sex with any of the women he had tied up. I asked many times if he would have sex with me, but he kept telling me that he couldn’t even if he changed his rule. I was almost seventeen and he had just turned twenty-three. He would wait until I was eighteen because he wanted our relationship to be legal, as odd as that sounds.
During the next two months he explained to me that he not only enjoyed tying up women, but enjoyed being tied up himself. He explained that one of the ways that he had become so expert at tying women up was years of practice and him experimenting on himself. Trying different knots, finding ways of tying up the wrists without cutting off the circulation and all the different positions were all just a part of it. After constant observation, I told him that I would like to try to tie him up. We started out small, but I was a quick learner.
Along with my new found pleasure of tying him up, I discovered how much I enjoyed role play. There was no end to the different options and scenarios we could play. In addition to the rope, I had convinced him to do other things with me. One day, unexpectedly while he was tied up, I unzipped his fly and let him spring free. He looked shocked, but also looked at me, wondering what I was going to do. Honestly, I could have gotten my way right then and fucked his brains out, but I knew he didn’t want that, at least, not like that. He had never said anything about oral sex though. I told him that I was going to suck his dick and he just bit his teeth together and inhaled slightly. With no obvious objections, I did what I thought I could do, never actually having performed oral sex before. Taking his sensitive member in my hands, I felt how smooth the skin was, and how thin the skin seemed to be. This was the very first time that I had seen a penis so I took my time. I started off slow but soon he was fully immersed in my mouth. I used what I thought was common sense and sheathed my teeth with my lips, not wanting to hurt him. I sucked and bobbed my head up and down until he was writhing in pleasure. He told me I should stop unless I wanted him to cum in my mouth. When I didn’t stop he took that as his cue. He moaned in pleasure as he released into my mouth, and after I had swallowed, I wiped my mouth and smiled with pride. It seemed like I had done well for my first blow job. While I could do without the taste and the texture of the sperm, it had been a very pleasurable experience for us both.
My seventeenth birthday rolled around and he surprised me with my first piece of jewelry. I didn’t know what to expect, but I knew he had been planning something. It was a beautiful but elegant sterling silver or white gold ring with a tanzanite setting. He had so much love in his eyes when he gave it to me and wished me happy birthday that I wanted to cry.
The world of BDSM is extremely versatile and always has new things to explore and try. When you have a partner that you know you can trust, it makes it all the more pleasurable. He showed me ball, bit, cleave, drool, tape and every other type of gag imaginable. He showed me how being blindfolded can add to the pleasure because it adds a certain anticipation which can heighten the senses.
A while after my seventeenth birthday, I began to be troubled about his promise not to have sex with me until I was eighteen. It was something I wanted desperately, and I wasn’t sure why. At times I doubted myself and my beauty. I know I shouldn’t have, but I asked him very frequently to make love to me. There was a slight worry in the back of my mind that it would never happen, and that was something I knew I couldn’t live without. While my libido had been satiated for the time with the beautiful erotic world Sam had shown me, I constantly thought about having sex with him.
One day I told him that I wanted to fuck him and he told me he couldn’t, not until I was eighteen. It seemed so far away and so I couldn’t help but ask, “Do you not trust me Sam? Am I really that undesirable that you want to do everything BUT have sex with me? I don’t want to be in a relationship that might not go anywhere. I crave it constantly and I honestly feel somewhat repulsive.”
“I don’t want you to feel that way. I love you so much. Isn’t what we have been doing enough for you?”
“I’m not sure it is anymore. If were not in a relationship that I can see us progressing to the next level, I don’t know if I can stay. I love you, I really do, but it’s something that I think I need.” I felt desperate. I hadn’t known at the time that the reason for my constant arousal had been because of my childhood trauma and how it had changed the way my brain worked.
“I don’t think I can be with you if we can’t move forward together.” I was crying at this point because I considered myself a freak for feeling this way. Wasn’t this was the way that men thought, not women?
“We will. Soon, I promise. I want to make you happy. I want to be with you, in every way.” His voice was earnest and slightly pleading.
While I left for the night, I felt an excitement again. He wanted to be with me, and that was all I wanted. Life went on normally for a little while afterwards. One day, after he had tied me up and then released me, I asked him if we could play around a little further than we had previously. Me, just wearing panties, grabbed a condom and rolled it over his member, then pushing my panties aside, positioned him so that his head was brushing against the entrance of my vagina. My blood was boiling, and from the look of lust on his face, his was too. He smiled, which gave me the go ahead. As I lowered myself slowly down onto him, it felt blissful. It didn’t hurt, and I didn’t bleed, which is something I didn’t really realize at the time. I had been preoccupied with the feeling of fullness and stretching. We flipped over and he went at me, thoroughly enjoying himself, breathing and groaning in pleasure.
I couldn’t have imagined a more incredible first time. After that, we frequently enjoyed immersing ourselves in each other. We couldn’t get enough, and while he held true to his word of not actually having sex with me while I was tied up, it was just as great doing little bondage related things during sex. Using a ball gag to stifle my screams was particularly arousing. Several times, I would tie a simple and comfortable hand tie behind his back so that I could fuck him while he felt a little helpless. I was allowed to fuck him while he was tied, which I enjoyed.
A few months later, the day before Valentine’s Day, he proposed to me. I had been expecting it because he kept talking about he wanted me to be his forever and that he wanted to marry me. While I was only seventeen, I told my parents that he had proposed to me. I don’t know what they thought of it because they didn’t really seem to care. I think it was more along the lines that they thought because I was so young that it wouldn’t last.
Finally my eighteenth birthday rolled around and we went and purchased our marriage license. 27 days afterwards, we were married, happily and surrounded by family.
Almost ten years later, and we are still married, still happy, and still enjoying our very kinky lifestyle. He is the only man I have ever slept with and he has never made me regret that. I enjoy adding new kink items to our closets where we store everything. It is fun matching up rope with different colors of gags or blindfolds. It is actually more pleasing coordinating fetish wear with fetish gear.
We have four children, and I have to say that it’s not always easy sneaking around them. We have two large closets full that are locked away in my husband’s room with his drums. With this, we have a large area to still have as much fetish fun as we want, while still having a good reason to lock up the room for the drums. We are pretty open with everyone about what we like, because we would rather inform people about all the different types and tastes of bondage. There are so many misconceptions out there that it is best to educate people on the subject rather than let them breed hate.
My husband and I are both switches, which is ideal. We can both cater to the other’s mood or desires. There was one time where I wanted to be tied up and disciplined because I was having a particularly bad depression spell. It doesn’t happen often, but a nice whip or crop really does release the pain when it happens.
My husband and I have loved many safewords, but we found they are useless with a gag in place, so we decided to stick with humming Jingle Bells. It’s been that for a while and every time it is used, which isn’t often, we both have a good laugh afterwards.
Sub-shop.com honestly occupy’s a good deal of our fetish space. While I absolutely adore all the amazing matching bondage gear, by personal favorite item is the Silk rope. It is soft and colorful and we own every color now. We have basically every other material of rope, but until Sub-shop posted the silk rope, we hadn’t used it.
To be honest, I’ve always wanted to be with a woman, but my husband likes the fact that I’ve only been with him and would prefer it to remain that way. He has no need to be with anyone else, so I set that aside, just for fantasies. Another one would be to do a session out in the forest, exposed but not.
Because we have such a love for all things bondage, we have a goal to educate people on the subject. To show them not only the beauty behind it, but the fact that it can be therapeutic and extremely sensual. I created a website that includes little bits of advice, small personal stories, and bondage jokes along with tasteful pictures.