When I ask guys to write me about their bondage adventures, many are reluctant, saying their experiences have not been particularly interesting, certainly not unusual, just the same old same old, or even that their most memorable experiences were disappointing ones. When I have gotten them to write me, even those who thought their experiences boring or bad, turned out to be interesting, because 1) they were about bondage and 2) they were written in the writer's unique voice. Not all writings about bondage need to be hot; some are simply informative, and for that reason alone they are interesting…at least to me.
WHEN BONDAGE DOESN’T WORK
The most unsatisfactory bondage experiences always have certain characteristics in common. One example captures most of these traits. Once, while in N.Y., I met a guy who insisted he was heavily into bondage. We went to his place. He had no gear at all, only a few pieces of rope.
Lack of equipment was matched by lack of imagination and a seeming lack of real interest and enthusiasm for bondage. He laid me on a mattress on the floor, tied one hand to a radiator pipe and the other to a leg of a chest. This was a turnoff because all I had to do was exert some effort and I could pull the dresser toward me, making escape possible. He had no place to tie my legs, and did not even tie them together. Then he put his cock in my mouth and wanted me to suck him off. Once he came he left the room for a few minutes, then returned and untied me.
FOUR-YEAR OLD TIES UP UNCLE
My early childhood was spent at my ancestral home in the country where I was not allowed to play with the other kids in the neighbourhood. My constant-playmate at that time was my uncle who is 6 years older than I (I come from a large Catholic family known for its clannishness—hence the age difference...).
One day I was walking alone around the compound when I decided to enter the garage. I rummaged through the rubbish and found a pile of innocuous-looking manila-type rope (this is still my favorite bondage “equipment”). I did not know what was in my mind when I picked it up. I proceeded to the lawn and played with it until my uncle arrived and sat beside me on the grass. Without thinking at all, I started tying his feet together. He did not say a word, neither did he struggle, so I continued to tie his wrists in front of him. I seem to have enjoyed what I was doing and seeing. Considering my age at the time, his bondage was not particularly tight, and he managed to free himself without any difficulty at all.
We did this together quite a number of times. On all occasions, he escaped from his bondage with ease. It took me a while to learn a lot more about ropes and tying up men.
When I was a bit older (nine or ten) my family moved to a suburban neighborhood close to the city where my father worked. There, my interest in bondage was rekindled when I was allowed to play with the kids around the block. I became fond of two kids who were four years younger than I. One day I talked one of them, a boy named Lee, into letting me tie him up. I didn’t waste any time at all. I tied him with his hands and feet behind his back and left him in a tunnel-sized pipe that was being used by a construction firm building a new road near our home. After this I tied Lee up a lot. We normally played these games on a Sunday so that the construction workers would not be there to disturb us. Sometimes I used to hogtie Lee right in our back garden (when nobody was at home) and leave him in a cramped position in a dog house. On one occasion, I tied his wrists behind his back and led him around the construction area with another length of rope tied around his neck.
The other boy, Buddy, was more naive than Lee. I tied him in my bedroom every time he came to our house to play. I liked to hogtie him with my father’s old neckties. I would always leave him in that position for quite some time, until he cried out, and then I would nervously release him. In spite of that, he always came back for more bondage games, which continued until I was about 12 and got immersed in my studies.
My fondness for tying up boys and men became more intense. It worried me because I didn’t understand anything about what I felt. This was aggravated by the fact that my father was extremely fond of watching wastern and Tarzan movies, and he would always take me with him to the cinema. There my eyes would literally pop out every time I saw a handsome cowboy tied up and tortured by the indians, and Tarzan in a wide variety of bondage situations.
When I was 13 I started masturbating at the same time as I fantasized about what I’d seen in the movies ...men sweating, struggling and straining against the ropes that restrained them...totally bound and gagged. My favourite TV movie was Wild Wild West where Robert Conrad was always erotically tied up in a wide variety of styles. Most memorable was when he was tied upside down. His body was supported by a single rope attached to a wooden dowel placed behind his knees. His ankles were tied together as close as possible to his wrists behind his back, putting him in a hogtie position (which has always been my favourite), and upside down at the same time. He was wearing his trousers and boots, which made the whole scene extremely erotic. I’ve never forgotten that image. Unfortunately, from that time on I became extremely depressed, unable to understand what turned me on so much. I really felt abnormal and isolated.
When I became old enough to look into pornographic materials I realized what I was feeling was not at all unusual. I also became aware that other men are into the same type of fantasy. I then started putting ads in the local gay paper in every place I was assigned to, and have never lacked for men who want to get tied up.
Hope everyone had a Very Merry Christmas!
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