Everyone who practices BDSM got their start somewhere. Somehow. Maybe it was you or your lover trying to spice up your bedroom play by acting out a scene from a mainstream TV show. Or perhaps you were seduced into the lifestyle by a more experienced man or woman.
My start? I guess you could call it a 'Jump Start'. I imagine it's a little different from most folks, I think. It's such a vivid memory that I think about it often when I'm by myself, hooded and chained in my self-bondage. Though it happened almost 20 years ago, my blood boils over when I let myself think back to that fateful day....
But first: a little background. I had a rough home life growing up outside Portland, Oregon. My parents both battled drugs and alcohol, and the related problems that went along with substance abuse. I eventually lost them both far too early in life. But each summer I found relief in the form of Dan and Betty – two wonderful friends of the family who owned a ranch in Northern California. Each summer I would take the old Greyhound bus south seven hours to spend three very happy summer months.
The summer of my 18th year finally came and I was finished with high school at last. I had won a major scholarship for the local state college and I so looked forward to some carefree days before taking up university coursework. Once again I boarded the bus for the long trip south from Portland to tiny Weed, CA, a dusty little town straddling the Oregon-California border.
I was so happy to see Dan and Betty anxiously waiting for me when the bus finally groaned to a halt. After so many summers together, these two were really like the family I had always wanted to belong to. I rushed off the bus into their embrace, and we spent the 2 hour drive back to their ranch talking non-stop. Their property was surrounded by the Siskiyou National Forest, nestled between two hills at the base of what are called the 'Trinity Alps'. So remote and beautiful you can't believe it. Miles and miles of fir trees interspersed with cold mountain streams and lakes.
Dan and Betty were now in their early 40s but they looked much younger. Both were very fit, fun loving and just plain wonderful to be with. Dan was an artist, specializing in commercial portraits and commissioned works. He had developed a following in the San Francisco bay area and then moved to the extreme north end of the state to work in peace and tranquility. He was tall and lean, tanned with wiry muscles built through hard work on his ranch. Think of a young Tom Skerritt. He had long black hair was flecked with a little gray as I remember how he would push it out of his eyes with a sly smile.
He had met Betty during an artist's reception in the Bay Area, fell madly in love and they were married within just a few months. An artist in her own right – she was a sculptor -- Betty had beautiful grey blue eyes that sparkled when she smiled. Dan had always told me how she was the perfect muse for his art, quietly encouraging him while making important yet subtle suggestions for how he could enhance his work. I remember she was tall too, but by the summer we were almost the same size. Now when I hugged her we were eye to eye. Some of the locals would later remark that summer that we looked more like sisters, how we wore matching short-shorts, filled out tank tops and our long blond hair down.
The two of them seemed to have a very passionate love for each other – which I would learn more about very soon.
The first couple of days were very normal, just like previous summers. Settling back into the familiar routine. Helping with the chores. Hiking together in now familiar woods, etc. Swimming in a nearby FREEZING lake. Just unwinding from another stressful school year at home.
It was the third morning after I arrived where things quickly changed. I had gotten up early to start breakfast for us all. Dan came downstairs first and joined me for a cup of coffee. We sat side by side on the deck watching the sun climb over the nearby mountains.
One of our favorite pastimes was flipping the Frisbee. This was about the time that Ultimate Frisbee was becoming a recognized sport, and I had joined a club in my high school. So Dan and I started flipping the disc back and forth, and it eventually became a kind of 'rough housing' match as we both ran to retrieve an errant throw.
This is something we always did since I was a teen. And sometimes these games included some simple tie ups. Truly kid stuff – or so I thought back then! He would make believe he was chasing me, catch me and tie my hands loosely with some rope or twine or something. Very very light and innocent.
So that's where I thought this tussle was headed. I got to the wayward disc first, and Dan was chasing me across his huge back lawn, probably 100 yards from the house. As usual, he eventually caught me and tackled me onto the soft grass. He rolled me over to my stomach and bound my hands quickly...just like always...and I was giggling and everything was fun. And innocent.
And then: my life changed. (Looking back: It's nice knowing where exactly a huge milestone in your life occurred...)
Because instead of immediately letting me loose....I felt more cords. He stayed astride me and I felt more rope going around my elbows! I groaned as I felt them wrenched together for the first – and surely not to be the last -- time. I was struggling and trying to pull myself loose, but I felt him cinching both my wrists and elbows really tight. I was still kind of laughing and thinking this was just more of the same old games. But Dan wasn't making a sound. I could hear his measured breathing. In fact...I remember everything suddenly getting quiet. The only sound I heard was the nylon rasp of ropes turning into knots, over and over.
Time just seemed to stand still, except for the growing tightness of those ropes. They felt tighter and tighter, and I felt paralyzed. I didn't know what to think, why Dan was doing this. What was he doing to me! I wanted to scream. To protest. Instead I just stayed silent and felt myself being captured. I felt weak and timid. Was I in shock? Or was this first signs of my submissive being?
Before I knew it I felt him shifting around, and saw him draw more ropes out of his pocket. He silently lashed my ankles together....and then my knees.
At that point I was coming out of my shock. In fact I was starting to freak out a little. "Dan...," I whimpered. "Dan?????" He didn't respond. Didn't say a word. Nor did he even look at me. Just silently kept binding me... tighter and tighter!
I wrenched my body around to try to look at him. His hair was down covering his eyes as he was cinching the ropes on my legs so tight. Satisfied with his work, he finally looked up and met my gaze. He had such a focused look on his face, staring hard back at me. I remember that intense look on his face and recognize it now for what it was – a look of a Dominant who has captured his prey.
Finally I felt him connect a rope to my wrists and pull them back.. and loop around my ankles. I would of course know this later as a hogtie, but at the time I just knew I was completely in his power. Now my movements were even more limited and I started to panic, jerking hard against these inescapable ropes. The tears came streaming down my face, and I began to scream.
Dan was leaning back on his knees, looking me up and down, inspecting his work. My cries were completely ignored as he checked my bonds. Finally he was satisfied that I was completely subdued. He looked me in the eyes....and the hint of a smile crossed his face. A very satisfied smile...and then turned around and walked towards the house without looking back.
I watched him slowly cross the long expanse of lawn, deaf to my screams and cries. All the while I was thrashing against my bindings, rolling from my stomach to my side. Despite my frantic thrusts against the ropes, Dan's knots didn't give an inch.
I had never felt anything like this before. I was totally and completely helpless....rolling around on the grass, like a captured deer enmeshed in a net. I was fighting hard to regain my composure and to try to understand what was happening to me. I couldn't believe that Betty couldn't hear my screams! Had Dan had lost his mind. Why was this happening to me.
I lay there defeated for well over an hour. I would go from wild struggles and screams to resignation and defeat. I can almost still feel the bite of the ropes on my elbows that first time, the band across my knees. Eventually I just gave up. I was completely trussed up and unable to escape until some kind of help arrived. Perhaps Dan would snap out of whatever trance he was in and come back, apologizing for his temporary insanity. Or Betty would hear my hoarse cries for help, spotting my bound form out on the lawn and come to save me.
The sun was well up in the sky before I saw any movement back at the house. I was exhausted, laying on my side, my sweat-matted hair pressed into my eyes when I saw two figures approaching.
It was Dan...followed by Betty walking slowly down the lawn to where I lay. I blinked my eyes through the sweat and tears, and I was stunned by what I saw. Both were dressed in a manner I had never seen before. Dan was dressed in gleaming leather, from head to toe. Shiny boots and tight pants, black and red vest buckled against his chest, topped with a leather cap. Behind him a few paces was Betty, in an even more bizarre costume! She was strapped into a black and red corset, with black shiny pantyhose and very high heels struggling to walk over the bumpy grass lawn!
