Important note: This is NOT my story. I found this on the web a long time ago and kept it. I thought it was cool so I'm posting it. I've searched for it and never found it again. If you know the author or if this offends people, I will take this down gladly. I have not even changed the grammar mistakes.
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Normally, a friend saying "hello" does not make me panic.
But I'd just come back from an adult book shop near the university, where I'd bought several bondage magazines. I found a quiet spot near the end of the oval. Students who live nearby cut across the oval, but they're too far away to see what I'm reading. However, my friend Kimberly, who is one of those students, naturally detoured from her journey home and walked over to me.
Kimberly and I often confided in each other about personal feelings and experiences. But I believed all women thought bondage was perverted and degrading; being surrounded by radical feminists does distort your perceptions of the opposite sex, especially when you're trying to grapple with your sexual identity, and the realization that some people may not understand it. The two things work against each other. So I had not revealed my sexuality to her.
Normally, hiding an interest in bondage in public is not difficult. But I had a visible sign of my sexuality in my hands. The magazine was flat in my lap, so if I'd remained calm, Kimberly would not have noticed. But the compulsion to panic got in the way, and Kimberly looked down, and saw the pictures of bound and gagged women.
She looked back up at me. Kimberly's expressions were always difficult to read. She could have been outraged or pleased.
Naturally, I was terrified. I felt exposed and vulnerable. But this feeling was only momentary. It was like smashing through a wall. The first few seconds are the hardest, and then the bricks are lying around you, and you accept it, because you know there is no way of reversing the process. As she had not said anything yet, I decided to make the first move.
"I think we better talk about this," I suggested.
"We don't have to," she replied, "It's really none of my business."
I hadn't expected a reaction like that. I was so guilty about my sexuality that I believe others would see it as something wrong or something right, not somewhere in between those two extremes.
But I didn't want her to go away with any misconceptions. So I tried to explain my feelings to her. Don't ask me to recall what I said, I honestly can't remember. I'm not sure how we ended up in her bedroom. We talked for a while, and as the sun was setting, she suggested we adjourn to her place. Her house mate was away for the evening with his girlfriend. After looking through the magazines I'd bought, she still couldn't understand bondage. She said it lacked spontaneity. I pointed out that she probably would never understand bondage unless she experienced it herself. I was almost being flippant. She had broken up with her boyfriend about two months before, and she wasn't in a relationship.
She stood up and walked out of the lounge room. I thought I'd offended her. She turned back to me when she reached the doorway.
"Come on, then," she said.
I got up and followed her. She walked into her bedroom.
It was only then that I started to notice how irresistible she was, in her short white top and denim shorts that revealed more of her voluptuous curves than they hid. She was wearing white anklet socks and canvas sneakers.
She stood, facing me, resigning herself to fate and my tender mercies. She looked non-committal, but I could feel her apprehension rising. It filled her room as we stood amongst the books, shoes and school books covering the floor. She'd brought us to this point, but didn't seem to want to be the one responsible for going any further. I hoped she wasn't having any doubts.
"Turn around, and cross your hands behind your back," I said, quietly but firmly.
I tried not to show my relief as she complied. She bowed her head in a proper submissive manner. My heart rate quickened as I picked up one of her silk scarves. I looked at its many colors as I folded it up. I looked up at Kimberly and walked over to where she stood, waiting to be bound.
My breathing quickened and I found myself getting excited as I formed a slip loop and tightened the silk around Kimberly's wrists. I wrapped it around her wrists and cinched it, keeping it tight. She gasped. I don't know if it was apprehension or anticipation it was probably a mixture of both. I tied the scarf in a tight reef knot, out of reach of her hands. Her fingers stretched out as she tested my bondage ability. Her green eyes widened as she discovered that her wrists were in gentle but firm embrace. I noticed the sensations of helplessness were engulfing her. I was ready for her to want out. She looked up at me.
