My girlfriend looked uneasy. Her expression, to be precise, was a complex mixture of sullen and nervous as we stood outside Pleasures and Treasures, the neighborhood kink community center. I held the canvas bag filled with our fun toys (mostly rope). She held her torso, as if she was exposed and hundreds were staring at her. No one was walking down our side of the street; it was 8pm on a weeknight.
"Don't be sore because you lost the bet," I said playfully. "This is going to be fun."
Still not sure what she was getting herself into, she gave me a quick look that said, "You're the worst," then stared forward, pouting.
"Look, we don't have to go. It really is up to you; bet or not bet."
I think she was playing up her resistance because, while she was probably genuinely nervous, I suspect she was secretly excited to see what was beyond the veil of secrecy. In any case, her only response to my offer was to open the door to P&T and stride purposefully inside. I shrugged and followed her in.
I smiled and nodded at the attendant behind the counter and pointed up the stairs to the rear loft area of the store, indicating we were there for rope practice. She didn't smile back; in fact, she seemed bored to tears. "Not us," I thought as I led Sara up the stairs to our first community kink event together.
When Sara and I had first started dating, I had been upfront about my kinky interests. Specifically, I love rope: tying and being tied. She had been surprised at first, and a little embarrassed by it all, not knowing anything at all about kink or what the word even meant. But to her credit, she had embraced my strange interests with enthusiasm. We began playing rope together and I taught her the basics. It had always remained a private matter--until tonight, we had never participated in the kink community together. And while I usually prefer being tied up, tonight would be different: I would be tying Sara.
We loved making bets as a couple. Since the loser usually had to submit to something kinky, it made them exciting and fun, regardless of what we were betting about. I can't even remember the bet I won, to be honest, but we both definitely remembered what I had stipulated I would get if I won: Sara would have to come with me to a community rope practice and let me tie her up.
"What is that even like?" she asked. It was a totally fair question, having never been to one before.
"It's just a bunch of fun, friendly, kinky people getting together in a relaxed atmosphere to practice their rope skills and see old friends," I assured her. "At the beginning there's usually a demonstration by a rigger with some experience, then everyone just lays down a mat and starts tying with whoever they want to tie with."
We got to the top of the stairs and approached the friendly looking kinkster behind the plastic portable table.
"Hi," I said.
"Good evening," they said. It's $10 per person. Have you been before?"
"I have. It's her first time," I replied, indicating the shy girl next to me. Sara was beautiful, and I have to say it was nice to come with someone instead of being alone. Single men at kink events were viewed with some suspicion; everyone always seemed to assume dark motives, no matter how friendly I tried to be. Not this time; the kinkster, fingers bedecked with black and chrome jewelry, smiled at Sara, clearly trying to make her feel comfortable. The smile carried over to me, as well.
We paid and stepped around the table and entered the practice room. The place was pretty full already. I guided us to the far end of the room where there was unclaimed floor space. Once there, I unrolled our yoga mat and set down the bag of rope. Sara was looking around the room, wide-eyed.
"Yeah, there's a bit of culture shock the first time," I said, reading her expression. "I remember feeling totally out of place my first time. It's amazing I stayed. Lucky, too, since I met some really wonderful people that night; I'm still friends with some of them."
"Lots of them aren't wearing any clothes!" she breathed to me in an urgent whisper.
"So?" I kept my tone lighthearted and playful. I had two motives here: I wanted her to settle in and feel comfortable in this community with its unique norms and customs; and I wanted to coax her out of most of her clothes before I tied her, too.
"They're not worried that anyone's looking?!"
"I mean, we're all kinda looking. And it's no big deal, right? There's lots of bodies to look at, and as long as you don't stare and you're not creepy, it's fine to look. It's just people being comfortable in their bodies. I love this part about our community; it's one of the only public spaces where you can let your body shame go; or at least work on letting it go. Body shame is pretty deeply ingrained in all of us."
Sara stood there, arms crossed, taking it in. Suddenly, her thought train arrived at the station.
"Wait, you're not expecting me to strip naked, are you?" Her tone was defensive, and I could tell she was definitely scared of being naked in front of all these strange strangers.
I smiled at her. "You don't have to, no. It's totally up to you." My tone was lighthearted and whimsical, as if it didn't matter at all. "But you know how awkward it is to tie someone up over their clothes," I added, as if making a purely rational point. I mean, to be fair it is awkward and unfun tying someone up over their clothes.
She turned and smacked me playfully on the arm, sensing the predicament I had put her in. If she kept her clothes on, the others would perhaps judge her an outsider and a prude. If she followed custom and stripped, everyone would see her body.
"Let's go watch the demonstration," I said, giving her time to consider and, hopefully, feel more comfortable.
We walked to the circle of folding chairs at the other end of the room and sat down. A cute couple sat one chair away.
"You new?" I asked.
"He is," the girl replied. She looked to be in her mid-20s, had shoulder-length blonde hair and a friendly face. Other than the black metal t-shirt and leather skirt (which I suspect she only wore to events like these) you would never guess she was a kinkster. Her boyfriend had short, brown hair, rugged good looks (just the right amount of scruff on his face) and, judging by his khakis and button-down collared shirt, was new to the kink world.
"Welcome!" I said, making eye contact. "She's new, too." Sara looked over and smiled nervously at them.
The demonstration (a box tie chest harness) was well presented. After 20 minutes or so, we all stood up and headed to our mats to practice. I cuddled up to Sara's arm and said, "I can't wait!" in a giddy voice.
"Do I really have to take off my clothes?" She asked, plaintively.
"Of course not," I replied. "I'm serious, this is a safe space and everyone should feel comfortable and in control of their body at all times." She looked relieved. "But look around," I pressed. "There are so many body types here, and lots of different levels of comfort with nudity. And the people here are friendly and accepting. You don't have to be ashamed of anything."
Besides, I thought, you have an amazing body.
It's true: Sara was gorgeous. A little taller than average, she had long brown hair and a pretty face with fine features. A runner, her body was trim. And I loved her breasts; they were just the right size (not small but not large) and firm, with delicious, sensitive nipples. I could totally understand her anxiety: once naked, everyone would be sneaking looks (even the women). That said, she had nothing to be ashamed of--and neither did anyone else, regardless of what their body looked like. Given her warm, charming personality (when not shy and nervous), she would be liked by everyone.
She stood next to our yoga mat for a while, considering.
"How are you going to tie me up?"
I looked at the ceiling above her. Her gaze followed mine to the metal hook anchored there. She threw me a sullen look, silently accusing me of really milking this bet for all it was worth. I shrugged back at her with an innocent smile. Guilty as charged.
