How did I get here?

I’ve been kinky since I can remember. I don’t recall what led to my discovery of masturbation, but I know that I was only 4 or 5 years old. There weren’t any kids in my neighborhood so I played imagination games quite often. One of my favorites was pretending I’d been kidnapped by pirates and was tied to a chair while they all stood around me and watched me play with myself. I’d protest that I couldn’t, that I was a good girl, that I didn’t do things like that; but every time I’d end up with my hand between my legs, working my small clitoris furiously until that strange tickling feeling overcame me. I didn’t know what it was that I was doing, but I knew that when I was caught by my parents, I’d get into trouble.

In first grade, I would get into trouble at school for masturbating while I was supposed to be doing my phonics lessons. I sometimes wonder if I’m the only person in the world that was that excited about learning how to read. *grin* That same year, I taught my best friend how to “tickle herself”. It was such a cool feeling that I had to share it with someone. We would have contests to see who could tickle themselves the fastest. We would tell stories to each other the whole time and her tales never involved being kidnapped or tied up or spanked. Mine always did.

When I was seventeen I discovered vampire erotica. I would stay awake all night reading about the delicious pain of being found and devoured by a vampire. The descriptions of the sublime pain of the bite and the warmth and flavor of the blood had new effects on me. The idea of having my blood slowly drained from my body by a beautiful man or woman would get me so worked up that I’d make myself raw. I still had no idea that not everyone found the idea as enticing as I did, but I was starting to wonder about my tastes.

At twenty-one I had my first actual bondage experience. I was dating an extremely “vanilla” boy that never did anything forceful or kinky to me, but we had discussed our fantasies at one point. Bless his heart, he attacked me one day. I ended up tied to his bed and he fucked me while calling me a whore. There was no traditional foreplay, there was no concern for my enjoyment at all. He used my body to get off. It was one of the most fulfilling experiences I’d ever had. Sadly, when we talked about it the next day, he told me that he hadn’t enjoyed it all, and never wanted to do anything like that again. A few months later, even though we’d been together for over a year and loved each other, the relationship ended. It was just too difficult to accept that I’d never have an experience like that again.

I spent a few months drifting, trying to figure out what I wanted. I found a few “fuck buddies” that were willing to be more rough with me than they were comfortable with because they knew I enjoyed it, but it wasn’t really their “thing”. Then I met the one that not only enjoyed it, but got off on it. He wasn’t only willing to indulge my fantasies, he wanted to share them. I spent more time in bondage than out of it when I was at his home. However, that was really the only thing I enjoyed about him. He was quite awful otherwise.

Then I met the man I’d eventually marry. Fast forward 15 years, and here I am. He’s still my husband and we both have other relationships that we’re involved in as well. But the story of how that came about shall be saved for another time.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: