Collared by Family
By Al Vatalaro
7/7/2024
Chapter 1: Understanding
It was my first experience with any sexual deviance, a term I have yet to embrace because, after many experiences, it will never only remain a constraint that society puts on the pleasures that are offered so abundantly by our bodies. Bodies that have been created for pleasure in so many varied ways. My husband, Ethan and I were trying to add a spark to our dying physical commitment to one another. Our plan was to attend and participate in a clothing optional camping event with the hopes that seeing other couples in all stages of nudity and sexual acts would give us new ideas on how to once again enjoy the pleasure we could give each other. Poor planning and naivetΓ© lead to an awakening for me that I would never believe possible.
Central Illinois could be considered part of an influential part of the United States that is known as the Bible Belt. Christianity dominated most aspects of life for most people, including myself. I was raised to believe that Christ, known as Jesus, was the man who took all my humanly sins and washed me clean. I lived a life dedicated to the Son of Man, trying to eliminate sin from all my actions. More importantly, eliminating sin from my thoughts made me a good Christian woman. In line with this teaching, I married at the age of eighteen: he was thirty-five at the time we took our vows. I had completed my duty to God and took a husband, submitting my will and body to him completely as a Christian woman.
It was amazing, painful, and degrading when he finally took me to the wedding bed and owned me as his wife. The ceremony was simple in the local Christian church with the minister spewing verse after verse of how a wife must submit to the authority of the husband, a concept that I struggle with today. I kissed the man my parents told me that I should love for the rest of my life, and then was placed into his protection for the years that I was allowed to live upon this earth by God himself. The kissed sealed a secret and mysterious contract between parents and God; however for myself, it represented the beginning of what I thought to be my destiny. I belonged fully to this man, and I would learn to love him as I was supposed to as dictated so clearly in the Bible.
We danced, shared food, and danced some more. It felt incredible to be held by Ethan, his body pressed close to mine. I have never been held like this before, and the kisses were amazing. The girls at school had talked about what it was like to kiss a boy. They described in very descrotpive detail what it was like when the lips met, and mouths opened to accept the others tongue in their mouth. I always distracted myself at this point in the stories for I thought it was "gross" to take another person's tongue in my mouth. How could any girl that was self-respecting degrade themselves to such a level? But the stories continued, and just not of kisses but of how the kiss led to such an excitement that they allowed their breasts to be fondled. The even more daring girls told of how they let the boy touch them down below, letting his fingers enter the most sacred of places.
The many dances included myself being passed from man to man of my husband's family so that I could all get to know all of them and let each of them congratulate us on our heavenly union. Or so I thought at the time. I lost count of how many times I felt something very rigid pressed into my tummy. I was shorter than most, standing at just below five feet, the groins of about every man was pressed my midsection. I had no idea what it was at that time, but I convinced myself that it was something long and hard in their pockets like a roll of coins or a folding knife used for hunting. I knew what a penis was from the many stories the girls had told, but this realization did not connect with my brain at the time. I simply thought that men carried such strange trinkets in their pockets.
The dances ended with the cutting of the cake, which at this time I can say that I wish had continued for the rest of the night. Feeling a man fully engorged against my body turned me on, even if I didn't realize it at the time. I had never been sexually excited that I knew of, but when I sat down at the table, allowing my husband to cut the beautifully prepared cake, I noticed that I was extremely damp between my legs. Not just damp but soaking wet. The hairs of my vagina had to be dripping into the white lacy panties that my mother-in-law had bought for me just for this night to come. I knew logically that I would be expected to engage in sexual intercourse with my new husband but had no clue as to what that meant. I knew that he would stick his thingy in my most sacred of places. But what did that really mean to a girl that had never even been bold enough to touch herself down there except to wash it.