If it weren’t for bondage, I wouldn’t be here right now. I wouldn’t have this blog, I wouldn’t be a submissive to my wonderful Dom, I probably wouldn’t have realized I was kinky at all. I’d be blissfully unaware, living out my vanilla life with my husband. And, really, if we get down to the nitty gritty, if it weren’t for my husband’s passion for fishing, I wouldn’t be here right now.
He likes to fish small streams that work their way down from the mountains and nestle into the valleys, streams that are far from the worn trails frequented by the tourists that march like armies of ants through our woods nine months out of the year. Some of these streams are inaccessible without rappelling gear, they are so deep into crevices and tangled with twisted rhododendron branches. While doing some research on rappelling, he stumbled across a Shibari hip harness somewhere in the depths of the internet, and the seed was planted.
Weeks later, I found myself blindfolded and naked in our living room, receiving a now so familiar lecture. These are your safewords. I need your communication to be clear. Tell me if something feels off. At the time, I’d never heard this speech before. The words coming out of his mouth stirred something inside me, and I hung onto every syllable. I could taste the meaning of them, as if they floated towards me like a thick cloud of smoke, smelling of something sweet and ambiguous, something good.
He wrapped rope tightly around my chest, constricting my breath, making me feel as though I was being held in a firm hug. He gently lowered me to the coffee table and tied me to it, unable to move, with ankles and arms bound and a rope snuggled between my pussy lips right up against my throbbing clit. I writhed against the rope, testing it, feeling it tighten and pull against me as I moved. I could feel the vibrations of the rope against my skin as he pulled it, creating knots and tensions. They traveled all the way around my body, buzzing like electrical currents through a network of wires. The feeling of being so fully restrained and exposed was new to me, and it drove me wild.
I wish I could have seen his face that day as he played with his own power for the first time, but the blindfold held me in my own little world. I floated in a haze, riding the undulating waves of pleasure as he held a vibrator against the rope, moving it from one body part to another, teasing me with touches and kisses and pinches. He kept me on the edge for an eternity, before finally moving the vibrator to my clit and allowing me to come. I screamed, a primal howl that came from deep within, a sound I’d never made before.
We’d played around with handcuffs before, but I had never experienced that level of bondage before. It opened up something in both of us, and having me spread and helpless before him, sparked something in him. I was at his mercy to do with as he pleased, and we both found something in ourselves that day. We didn’t yet know it, but that day, he became my Dominant, and I became his submissive. A few months later, we signed our Contract making it official.
Bondage is part of our everyday lives now. We plan around it, making time for hours long scenes on weekends and short sessions before dinner on weekdays. Many of my orgasms are granted to me while I’m wrapped up in rope, tied to a chair, or hanging from the ceiling. I often have my arms bound while I suck his cock, no hands available to wipe the drops of come that my mouth has missed. It has deepened our connection to each other and allowed us to explore the dark unknown parts of our desires. Bondage was the jumping off point, and our journey has only just begun.