I grew up in a very conservative religious family in the Midwestern state of Indiana. I attended a small Baptist church in a tiny town nobody had ever heard of let alone visited. My minister Rev. J was a strange man with weird ideas where sin and sexuality were concerned. I remember him telling the youth group that AIDS was punishment for sexual sin, I couldn’t have been but eight years old at the time. Spewing such filth from his mouth with all the vehemence of a fire and brimstone sermon the Baptists are so famous for, well it was enough to convince me I was going to hell for even thinking about sex. I should have known better then, Rev. J also told my mother and I that space aliens were really demons. When I was about twelve, we left the church suddenly, I got no explination from my mother and was hurt that I couldn’t go to church anymore. I found out in later years, that Mister Holier-than-thou was a con-artist from Scotland. He and his wife were convincing elderly church members to sign over their money. I began to question everything I had learned in the church about honesty and trust, if you couldn’t trust the man who was supposed to help you walk the straight an narrow, who could you trust? The straight and narrow didn’t seem so straight and narrow to me anymore.
Fast forward to one of my first sexual encounters in my teen years, I wasn’t a popular girl at all and my sexual experience was minimal. I’d been seeing a guy, we’ll call him Mike. Mike and I weren’t ready for sex yet, but were fond of practicing. During one of our awkward teen makeout sessions, (with my mom sitting in the next room I might add) he grabbed my arms and held them down, he grabbed my throat and choked me as he kissed my mouth. In cheesy romance novels they say things like “She was lost in the throes of passion.” That’s exactly what it was, I was lost in the sensation of being held down, dominated, controlled. I was his, I gave myself over to him completely and allowed myself to be controlled. He rolled me over on the bed and held me down, my arms behind my back. He began to smack me on the ass, harder with each stroke until I cried out. I liked this new sensation, and quickly began research online. I found a small group of people in their late teens/early 20s who were experimenting together in Indy. I discovered other groups on IRC, in #bondage, #BDSM, and #piercing. I met some people who did piercing play as a live show, and became very interested in it. This did of course lead to me being busted looking at porn and losing Internet privileges until I turned eighteen. I think once my mom got into the history files and found what I’d been looking at she got a little scared.
I’ve always liked being dominated, tied up, slapped around a bit. Forget the missionary position, I prefer being taken from behind with rope around my neck. I crave the crack of the whip, and the sensation of leather strands hitting my bare thighs. I don’t require D&S to achieve orgasm, but it enhances my sex life in ways I never could have imagined. Every major relationship in my life has eventually moved into dominance play of some sort, and if it didn’t, I got bored with it and moved on.
I’m married now, and I’m the first D&S partner my husband has had, though he was curious about it before we got married. I’ve had to coach him a little on things from time to time, but most of it comes naturally. Our bondage play is very organic, we have a perfect trust in our sessions, which makes it all the more enjoyable. I’ve never had experiences as rich and fulfilling as the ones I share with him, he finds ways to push my boundaries and I his. I think it’s helped us grow as a couple, our trust has grown and the amazing sex life we share has strengthened us.
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