Evolution

Evolution

My name is Jacob and this is a story describing my introduction to bondage sex and my further evolution into a bondage aficionado.  100 percent of what you will read is true and happened just as I described. This story spans 45 years and as will be come eminently clear is more than a bondage story. It is also a love story. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

The Game

My introduction to bondage occurred at the age of 13 and can all be blamed on a precocious girl named Cindy Thiessen. Cindy moved to my town in New Jersey when I was in second grade. Cindy’s family was Norwegian and had just immigrated to the New York area where her father could setup his dental practice. They moved to the area because of the large Norwegian population in New Jersey and Brooklyn and the fact that they already had family in our town. Although I didn’t notice at the time, I now realize in retrospect that Cindy was already beautiful in second grade. At the time, however, it was not beauty that set Cindy apart from the rest of my friends but her aggressiveness, competitiveness, and intelligence. Cindy was taller than everyone, a better athlete than everyone, and smarter than everyone. She was not a tall uncoordinated girl but just the opposite. She ran with a grace that was breathtaking in a way that appeared that she was gliding over the ground. It was clear that at eight she was already goal-oriented and knew what she wanted. In second grade she wanted me. As such, I became her “boyfriend”, emphasis on friend for the next six years until her family moved to California just before the start of eighth grade. She was very possessive and did not appreciate any other girls showing me too much attention. Cindy was not a prissy girl but the quid essential tomboy. During the next seven years we did many things together. She taught me to play chess and she wasn’t happy when I got good enough to beat her regularly. She was also my personal catcher for baseball, starting in Little League and continuing until junior high school. I turned out to be a pretty good pitcher being both all state and all conference in college and might have been able pitch in the majors if it were not for arm problems at the end of college. Cindy was definitely ahead of the curve as a female athlete. She not only played Little League in the 1950s when such a thing was totally unheard of but was a consistent all star. Baseball was important to Cindy.  One of the  only times I saw her cry was when they denied her application to play in the Babe Ruth league for 13-15 year olds because she was a girl. This was a travesty because she was better than 80% of the guys. Besides baseball and chess another of our favorite activities was fishing. Cindy lived about a mile from my house on a cul-de-sac that backed up on a large forested area. A trail left her back yard that in about a quarter mile terminated at Lemans pond, a place where we spent many happy hours fishing and doing other things (later!). One fishing episode still sticks firmly in my mind. It happened in fourth or fifth grade. We were busy fishing when my lure got snagged on something underwater about 30 yards off shore. I got mad, started stomping around, and complained that I no choice but break the line and lose the lure.  After hearing me say that, Cindy instantly jumps into the pond, dives down in about six feet of water, and frees my line. This was Cindy in a nut shell; she made decisions and acted on them. Not surprisingly our relationship was platonic for many years, just two friends. That started to change in seventh grade when Cindy developed interests that at the time were totally foreign to me. She became interested in me as a real boyfriend and not just a friend. We were actually quite comical in seventh grade- I was 4’11” tall and 90 lbs. and Cindy was close to 5’11” and probably 120 lbs. My first hint that things had changed was when Cindy keep bugging me to kiss her-something I had no intention of doing. The second hint was when she starting wearing lipstick. The curious thing was that when she was wearing lipstick I could be sure she that she would want to kiss. Just before the beginning of eighth grade Cindy had a party at her house during the Labor Day holiday. There were both girls and boys at the party, which was a first for me. We had a barbecue late in the afternoon and many kids had to leave immediately after because their families were going to the shore early the next morning. However, four boys and four girls hung around to play a game called ring-valeveo, which is a cross between tag and capture the flag. We formed two teams, girls and guys. The object was to capture a member of the other team (you had to hold them for the count of three) and bring them back to the base. The captured player couldn’t leave the base unless a member of their team came and tagged them. To prevent this, the opposing team would typically leave two or three players to guard the base leaving few to do the actual hunting. We played two games, in the first the boys were the hunters and in the second it was the girls turn. When the second game started the girls set out together to find a victim. That first victim turned out to be me. The strategy they used was to attack with all four of them at once. I was a very fast runner and no single girl or even two could ever catch me but the four of them trapped me in a fenced back yard and caught me. The base was just behind Cindy’s family’s garage. Leaning up against the garage was a long extension ladder with a rope attached that was used to extend the upper section. When we got back to the base the girls huddled up and started giggling. Then all of a sudden they were all on me pinning me to the ground. I had no idea what was happening because this was not part of the game. They rolled me on my stomach with one sitting on my legs and another on my head pushing my face into the grass. The other two each grabbed an arm and yanked it behind my back. They were them crossed and tied very tightly with this incredibly course hemp rope from the ladder. It was so tight that it hurt but I wasn’t about to complain to a bunch of girls. Next they bent up my legs and sat on them while I was tied in what I now know to be a very restrictive hogtie. I could barely move and was actually pretty sacred. I finally asked why they were doing this and they told me that if I was tied up I couldn’t escape even if I was tagged by a teammate. That way they needed only leave a single guard. At that point I thought they were done when Cindy pulls off this scarf that she always used to hold her ponytail and blindfolds me. Cindy volunteered to be the guard while the other girls went hunting. As soon as the girls were out of ear shot, she turns me on my back with my arms underneath me and my legs pulled up with my thighs acting as the back of a chair (not too comfortable), sits on me, and says now you have no choice because I am going to kiss you. With that she starts kissing me (my first kiss), tickling me, and in general driving me crazy. After a little while the panic faded and I realized that I really enjoyed what was going on. The strangest thing that happened, however, was that I got weird feelings in my penis and it got hard. This was not lost on Cindy (she was actually a year older than me) who thought it was really funny. I was embarrassed because I had no idea what was going on and what the implications of this were. Talking about anything remotely sexual was absolutely taboo in my family. I had never had a hard on and didn’t understand what it was for. I really didn’t even know what intercourse was. Well, Cindy then explained it all to me while sitting on my first hard on. The girls never did catch the rest of my friends and the game ended after about another hour. When the guys came back before heading home they thought it was pretty funny that the girls had tied me up. Everyone left for home and Cindy said she would untie me. She had other ideas. After we were alone she asked whether I knew what French kissing was. Of course, I had no idea. Cindy then said that I was going to learn. At this point I was begging her to let me go because my shoulders were killing me. Her reply was only when we French kissed. She next leaned very close to me and told me to open my mouth because she wanted to kiss with open mouths so we could touch tongues. I said definitely not and that it would be disgusting. She said it was my choice-stay tied up or kiss the way she wanted. So what do I do, I start to scream for her parents. Quickly she puts her hand over my mouth and tells me that if I don’t stop she’ll jam one of her socks in my mouth. I really wanted out because of my shoulders and the mosquitoes were starting to eat me alive. Finally, after about 15 minutes, I relented and had my first French kiss. When I got home after more than three hours bound I was so stiff I could hardly move. For the next several days I had to keep my Mom from seeing the rope burns. This was the beginning of an interesting year with Cindy.

The Pond

Eighth grade started and I completely forgot about the Labor Day incident. Cindy, however, hadn’t and was clearly planning an encore for some time. The encore occurred in November when her younger brother had a pee wee basketball game. Cindy invited me over to play chess, which we often did. I went over as I usual did but noticed that her parents were not around. This was odd because Mrs. Theissen never let kids in the house when she and her husband were gone. Cindy assured me that they really liked me and approved of my being there when she was home alone. After having some lemonade, Cindy asked if I wanted to see her new bicycle, which was in the garage. I said sure since we rode bikes together everywhere. As soon as I walked through the door into the garage the same three girls from the party and Cindy were on me again. I actually fought with everything that I had but each was far bigger than me. This time, however Cindy was a bit kinder. With girls sitting on me and holding me down my ankles and knees were tied together with cut up jump rope that Cindy pulled out of her soon to become infamous purple cloth bag. After my legs were effectively restrained they dragged me over to one of the garage’s metal support column and proceeded to tie my wrists and elbows together behind the column with more jump rope. After I was totally secured, Cindy thanked her friends and they left. Cindy had a huge following of friends-both girls and boys that did her bidding and would pretty much do whatever she asked. I guess this Saturday’s request was to subdue Jacob. I always wondered if the first encounter was totally scripted by Cindy. Next, Cindy walks up to me and again sits on my lap wrapping her legs around me and the post. Off comes the ponytail scarf and I am again blindfolded. Immediately the kissing started, most of which is French kissing-clearly Cindy’s favorite. My response was again to get hard, which appeared to please her. With no mosquitoes biting and soft ropes the whole experience was fantastic. I knew right then that I wanted to do a lot more of this. After hours of kissing and tickling Cindy finally let me go. That was the last time that I had to be forcibly tied. After that, all Cindy had to do was just ask. Several more times we repeated this activity in her garage in exactly the same manner. We would talk for hours with Cindy sitting on my lap about school, baseball, or whatever. I always got a little scared when Cindy left me alone to go into the house, usually for something to drink, food, or to use the bathroom. The longest she was ever away was probably 30 minutes when she once went to make me a toasted cheese sandwich. She really liked feeding me when I was totally helpless. Finally spring came and it was time to go fishing, which we did often. We’d dig worms out of her dad’s compost pile, pack a lunch, and we would be off for the day. Leman’s pond was a small farm pond with an area of about 10 acres and was only a short walk from Cindy’s house. On the far side sat the last functioning farm in our town. To the left was an inlet stream that drained a large swamp and to the right was an enormous blackberry patch that was probably 150 ft in diameter and ten feet high. One day in early spring of eighth grade Cindy told me that she had something to show me and walked me around the blackberry patch. About half way around Cindy stopped and pointed to an opening that had been cut into the patch and said go ahead and crawl in. OK I was game so we got down on our hands and knees and started to follows a meandering path through the briars. About fifty feet in the path opened up into a room about 8’x 8’ and 5’ high. Cindy then announces that this was going to be our play house. The ground on the path and room were covered with several inches of straw that Cindy had gotten from behind the barn on the other side of the pond. I had no idea how long it must have taken her to cut this out-it must have been days. In the room in the briars set a thermos, cooler, a blanket, and her purple bag. I immediately knew what this was all about. She had me kneel down and put my arms behind my back and then proceeded to tightly tie my wrists and elbows with the same jump rope. Cindy was very good at this- the bindings were always inescapable and usually fairly comfortable. Next, she had me sit facing her and she tied my knees and ankles. After the mandatory blindfold was in place, she was sometimes done and would immediately crawl up on my lap. Most of the time, however, she would have me lie on my stomach, bend my legs, sit on them and then tie my wrists to my ankles. Now I was totally immobile. Whatever the position she would spend hours kissing and talking. I thoroughly enjoyed every experience that summer but one. Even that one turned out great in the end. On that occasion Cindy bound me in a very tight hogtie and then announced that she needed to ride her new bike to her piano lesson and would be back in two hours. I begged her to let me go promising that she could tie me up when she was finished. She would have no part of it and I started to holler. She was totally prepared and quickly packed my mouth with a sock and then wrapped my whole head with an ace bandage going over the blindfold. Before leaving she said she thought I might react that way and, as such, had brought what she needed to gag me effectively. This was my first time ever being gagged- something I’ve grown to love. When she finally returned she did her usual and then freed me. One of the things that evolved during the course of the 25 or so sessions that we shared that summer was the inclusion of my desires into the activity. Initially the bondage was completely for Cindy’s benefit. Although Cindy was an aggressive, no nonsense young woman she was also very caring and astute.  She quickly realized that I liked being bound for long times and that I really liked it when she wouldn’t release me when I asked. Cindy said my penis was her guide. I also confided that the first session when I was bound during her weekly piano lesson was at first unnerving because of the gag, which was new, the length of the bondage because my shoulders hurt, and fear of being alone (What if something happened to her-no one would find me.). After I calmed down, however, I told her that much about my situation was very pleasurable. I liked the longer term bondage alone because it allowed me to drift of into some altered state. In addition I told Cindy that I really liked being gagged so that everything was in her hands and I would have no influence on her decisions. And finally I liked the feeling of having my head totally encased in the tight ace bandage with no sight and limited hearing. After that, my Wednesday afternoon piano lesson bondage became my favorite and clearly involved the strictest bondage I would endure with Cindy. The next Wednesday Cindy told me that I was really going to enjoy the day because she was going to do my head even more completely. The session started as it always did with a very restrictive hogtie with elbows and knees tied and the blindfold. Next Cindy shoved cotton balls in my ears, added gauze pads, and tapped over them. Then to the gag. She shoved in a sock and then unexpectedly pushed in another. I immediately tried to protest but said she knew I would really like it. Once my mouth was totally packed she tied an ace bandage tightly over the gag. This was not comfortable but I knew from past experience that Cindy would totally ignore any pleadings. Then she told me to close my mouth as much as I could and hold it. She quickly tied another ace bandage under my chin and up over the top of my head locking my jaw closed. Finally (at least I thought finally) she wrapped my whole head and neck with another ace bandage. I thought she was done but she added a final bandage for good measure. Sensing that by breathing might be compromised Cindy separated the bandages to expose my nostrils. Even though this helped immensely breathing was still not perfect because my nose was somewhat squished.  With that she asked if I was OK, told me to enjoy myself, and that she would be back in a few hours. It seemed like forever until she returned and I was really hurting and wanting out. In response to my groans she apologized for being so long. Because she thought I really wanted to be bound for a long time, she stopped at home after piano and had lunch. She knew that I really wanted her to release me but she wasn’t about to and she let me know it. This was the only time that Cindy really scared me. I had been bound very strictly since nine in the morning and it was probably around 2:00. She then tells me that she will let me go when we went home for dinner around 6:00. When she was home at lunch she dug some worms so she was going to fish for the afternoon while I was in our play house. Mercifully she released the hogtie, untied my elbows, and without a word was off to do some fishing. Although I was still uncomfortable with my wrists and legs tied at least I could stretch out and soon felt much better. After a couple hours Cindy was back and informed me that she was done fishing for the day and wanted to talk- actually she means that she wants me to listen since I am very effectively gagged. Cindy then tells me to roll on my stomach so she can redo my elbows and the hogtie. I’m really trying to protest and resist as best I can when she reaches down and starts pinching my nipples though my tee shirt very hard. I’m squirming because it really hurts but she just keeps squeezing. After 30 seconds or so, she says matter of factly “I’m going to keep doing this until you turn over”. Not long after I relented. I think I must have pissed her off because she pulled my elbows much closer together than ever before. She wanted to talk about her move to California which was only 4 weeks away and tell me that she didn’t want to go. Before long she was sobbing and so was I under the head gear. Fortunately she couldn’t see me being very unmanly. About an hour before she released me completely she undid the hogtie, untied my elbows and removed all of the head gear except the blindfold. Then the kissing started with noticeably greater intensity than ever before. I asked her if she would like to take off the blindfold but she said no. I could never figure out why it was so important for me to have the blindfold on when we kissed- more specifically when we French kissed. We actually kissed many times without me being bound but it was always very reserved. When I was bound and blindfolded Cindy was like a different girl. This turned out to my longest bondage session with Cindy by far. It was also the only time I ever climaxed with Cindy sitting on my lap.  Being as naïve as I was I though I had wet my pants. Cindy as usual explained what had happened. Strangely (at the time I thought it strange), it made her very happy that it had happened.  Despite the sexual overtones of our relationship she and I were always fully clothed and never touched the others “private areas” with our hands or mouths. The only exception was one time when Cindy peaked to see what a hard penis looked like. You need to understand that this was the late 50s and we both came from strict families who had indoctrinated us well. The possibility of intercourse never even came up. Even though we got together many times the next four weeks where I was very stringently bound, gagged, and blindfolded these meetings were actually quite a downer because Cindy was just so sad. We wrote to one another for about two years after that. Her friend Ruth moved right into the vacancy left by Cindy. Although she was one of the girls that tied me up the first two times she had no interest in playing bondage games the need for which was now deeply ingrained in my psyche. Ruth was a wonderful girl but she could never replace Cindy. I never met another person with the zest for life that Cindy possessed until I met Becky, now my wife for 39 years (more about Becky later). Without a doubt Cindy changed my life forever.