Back before the days of Fifty Shades of Grey, BDSM culture certainly still existed, even though it was only on the periphery. And while present me does not believe that having to physically or emotionally hurt your partner and then having to trauma bond (or “after care”) afterward is a healthy way to practice sex, past me thought it was just “kinky.”
Something that always turned past me on was my boyfriend over me, being the one in control. I loved it when he was on top because, even if he wasn’t really dominating me, I could still fantasize as if he was and get off to it. But I wanted more.
One day, after we had finished having sex, I mustered up the courage to tell my boyfriend what had been on my mind. He kind of chuckled when I told him I liked him controlling me, but then I gave him a task: “I want you to tie me up and dominate me the next time we have sex.”
He was understandably nervous about it (bless his gentle soul) because he was concerned he would hurt me or that this would create an imbalance in our sexual relationship (may I say again: bless his gentle soul!). But I persisted, saying that I would be (more than) okay during it and that we could have a safeword so he’d know if I wasn’t.
As I went to his house the next time, I was playing it cool. I didn’t think he would bring it up unprompted and I didn’t want to seem desperate. But immediately after we were behind the closed door of his room, he started kissing me all over.
We started to undress one another and he started walking me, still kissing, in the direction of his bed. I wasn’t really sure what was happening so I stopped him and said, “Where are we going?” (Way to ruin the moment, past me). He looked confused for a second, but responded, “I was going to press you up against the wall, but I guess we can just lie down.”
I figured, “Less foreplay, more sex!” and got down on his bed. But as I thought he was going to continue our makeout session, he went toward his TV and video game systems. He came back toward me, kneeled above me and started kissing my neck and my collarbones when I realized he was holding something. Before I could ask, he had taken my arms and pinned them above me. Oh man, this thing was really gonna happen.
But when I looked up at his face, which I expected to be stoic and sexual, his forehead was wrinkled and he was biting his bottom lip in concentration. Just as I was about to ask if something was wrong, he started to bind my hands together with something cool and smooth. I had envisioned it being rope or string or even a necktie, but none of those had this same texture. Curious, I tilted my head back.
When I did, I saw thick, gray wiring that must belong to one of his gaming systems. By the color, I’d guessed it went to his Nintendo Wii. He was having a hell of a time tying me up with it because its shape and texture was specifically made so that the wire wouldn’t tangle when put in storage. I tried not to react, but he must have seen something in the way I was staring at the “bondage” because he said, “It’s the only thing I could think of!”
Although present me would have laughed myself right out of bed and gone upstairs to order Thai food, past me was going to take all she could get.
Once he had it tied (or at least made it look like it was tied), he tried to reclaim the mood and snapped into character. He crawled down my body, removing whatever clothes were still on me, and did his best to pleasure me while acting distinctly “bad.” However, less than 10 minutes in, I gave a pretty strong tug on the “bondage” — and had to fake being bound for the rest of it.
I tried to look like I was “struggling,” hoping he wouldn’t notice the ever-slackening game cable around my wrists. I don’t think he noticed, though; he was too busy trying to ask me if “I liked that” — which, to be honest, I did.
It wasn’t long before, after having been faced with the reality of this fantasy situation, I found myself growing bored. Sure, he was dominating me and sure, he knew his way around my body by this point in our relationship. But all I could do was just lie there and take it all in — and where’s the fun in that?
I eventually asked him if he would untie me (as if I couldn’t just get out of it myself) so that I could give him the same pleasure he was giving me. He happily obliged and even seemed relieved.
After that, it was sex as usual — I got him off, he got me off, no bondage needed. Although there were a few times in our future that we still played around with the act of domination, I never asked him to tie me up again — and I don’t think I ever will.