by Dean, Dom, Australia.

I always thought myself lucky growing up in a blue collar family. Having my dad’s easy going nature and quick wit with my mum’s caring and protective nature. Somehow I found an out of the box thinking and a greater understanding beyond my years mixed into the traits of my parents. Being an average looking but understanding kid led me to know all the unspoken things as I was easy to talk to and always kept secrets.

My early teenage years were very educational for me after finding my grandfather’s old detective magazines. The image of women bound in rope fascinated me. I didn’t fully understand the meaning of the words rape, incest or bondage but did research to better my understanding.

Walking home from school with my female friend chatting about some of the stuff I had recently learned, to my horror and surprise she started telling me things her dad was doing to her. I knew it wasn’t right but the more I said the less she said. But being sworn to secrecy and not wanting to hurt or lose her, I just did as she asked and was the friend she wanted me to be. I still watched and waited for any reason to do something but kept my word, said nothing while a fire built inside me. A week or so later I walked my friend home from school as usual but this time was different, her mum’s car wasn’t in the driveway. As we go to her door it suddenly opened. Her dad was standing there trying to rush her inside. He didn’t once look at me like I wasn’t there. My friend took a step back with a look of horror on her face. All I saw was a glint in his eyes and a smirk. That was all I could take, he wasn’t a big man but still bigger than me. I just exploded with rage attacking him with all that I had, knees and fists swinging wildly. Fortunately for me I caught him off guard and a few groin shots brought him down to my level. I got hit a few times but didn’t feel it and couldn’t stop hitting him, until I was being dragged off by the back of my collar. As things settled down I realised it was my friend’s mum who dragged me away and I didn’t know but she had suspicions she couldn’t prove. Upon her arrival, my friend ran to her mum telling her everything as she fears how much troubled my action had caused. The secret was out and there was nothing more I could do, sent home still angry and upset.

It was strange when I got home. You could clearly see I’d been in a fight but all that was said was to clean myself up. I guessed my parents already knew. After dinner and a long chat with my parents, I was punished but with praise for my actions. I didn’t see my friend again but was told she had moved away wither mum and was now safe. I was heartbroken but felt good for what I had done. I learned lots from this and now find better ways to help friends. Many, many years later I received a letter with one single sheet of paper with thank you written on it that I believe to be from her.

Stumbling through the rest of my teenage years slowly learning about sex and the female body. My first true sex experience came in my late teens and was memorable for reasons other than being good. Two virgins having sex on the spur of the moment for the first time, on the floor of a bedroom with a door that wouldn’t close with her mum and dad home. Let’s just say it was quick. We did get better together but still hard for me to say well.

A few years and girlfriends later, my silent thoughts came true when my girlfriend asked to tie me up. I clearly remember the feeling of helplessness and pleasure. We swapped positions often with me becoming the one with free movement most of the time. Being the more dominate one became easy and natural. I always admired the trust and beauty of my girlfriend bound.

Learning how to time our orgasms by spending more time arousing her, now not distracted by her touch. The quick release and passionately intense cuddle afterwards became a very important part of our love making.

My next girlfriend inspired me more when given greater control and opened up my imagination further. Gags, blindfolds and hoods opened my mind and helped me gently push her limits and find g spots for the first time. Every now and then we swapped power of control, building trust and insight, finding texture, touch, hot, cold and many more things to get different reactions. I decided it’s time for me to create and live by my own code of conduct.

  • Never forget the honour given to bind.
  • Always be ready for bad reactions and quick release.
  • Never break trust.
  • Never ask for something I won’t let happen to me.
  • Always respect boundaries.
  • Never be disrespectful or careless.

The next few years lead to many great memories and one weekend I’ll never forget as we were both too worn out to work the Monday to start that week. At the end of that relationship I was saddened and heartbroken.

Now in my early 20’s, single for years, I became frustrated and start making sex talks more interesting by posing questions and thoughts in my small group of friends. Becoming a confidant for most of my friends, being quietly confident but never arrogant. Still outspoken with the mistreatment of women, often having words with mates. One day when asked how to know how to trust your partner to tie you up? My response still makes me smile as the girl blushed and boys looked at me with scorn. I said “without emotional trust only you will know but self-control is the next issue you face. Testing your partner’s self-control is easy to test. When having sex and you know he is about to cum, tell him to stop and see if he can. If he can’t, do you really want to be helpless to him?” This simple statement seemed to cause quite a stir. As friends of friends came to talk to me about bad sexual experiences and abuse. Being a good listener who gave logical advice and was always there when needed and always ready to fight.

That is how my next relationship started, helping someone out of a damaging relationship. As I never hid my fondness of lingerie or stockings and heels, that was used often by my girlfriend to tease me but was nothing but lies. This is where I learned respect is always given but trust must be earned.

Over the next few years I learned more of the damage men do. I learned a pattern of abuse where women who survive a violent relationship too often end up in a manipulating relationship as the damage is done where a threat is used instead of a hit. While I’m tested by my own theory of self-control in a series of short relationships with women testing the thoughts I’d provoked. Never getting close to the limits of my imagination but honing my skills.

Now in my late 20’s family tragedy strikes as I’m the one to stand up to do all the unfun things. Any sexual thoughts put far away. One night, while looking for solace and silence, I sit alone in the dark at a local lookout, lost in my thoughts of all the things I must do, I don’t hear when two men suddenly appear. Standing up quickly with one either side stinking of alcohol accusing me of being gay as I’m not drinking beer. Not in the mood for a fight I try to leave but both men are bigger than me and a scuffle soon starts but ends just as fast when I’m king hit from behind. Coming to I’m not sure where I am. I realise I’m being held down bent over a rail my pants have disappeared knowing there is nothing I can do I try to relax and play dead. With the knowledge of rape victims I try to be limp not getting a moment to lash out with fury. Both men cheer as I’m raped by both men to cheers “I’m fucking a fag!!” When it is finally over I fall back to the ground still playing dead. Both men flee thinking I’m dead. I listen carefully to make sure they are gone before getting my clothes and leaving. Being brought up to be the strong, silent type, I focus on the things I have to do and ignore the slight bleeding from my arse. The bleeding stops in a few days and I never say anything about that night. But I do now have a real understanding of rape victims and a real hatred of abusive men. For the next few years I’m in a very dark place as family tragedies continue.

Now in my mid 30’s having spent years just wandering through life not knowing why. Every now and then helping a friend but still not finding purpose. A chance meeting with a friend I hadn’t seen for many years during talks catching up, many red flags went up in my mind. After explaining my theory of abuse patterns and seeing a change in her thoughts, my offer of help was declined but I still kept a protective eye when she ended things her way. I was pleased but surprised. Months later after a night of drinks, truthful feelings began to show through. Being a single mum and not wanting her kids to know, a very secretive relationship began. A private, passionate and loving relationship finally allowed me to be me with my wild thoughts. For many years we explored and had fun. Nothing off the table, breath play, fisting, anal but never a mark left. Always a loving embrace before she fell asleep and I left before dawn. Never a word have I spoken even though changes life change bringing to an end the greatest love I’ve ever felt.

Now in my mid 40’s many years alone, not much I regret. Proud to help the ones I could. When all is said and done, I’m just an average bloke who knows a few things with no tolerance for women abusing men, looking to find the place I belong.

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One Response Comment

  • Profile photo of The Count
    The Count  September 21, 2014 at 3:14 am

    An excellent blog. I too have NO tolerance to those that abuse women for sport..

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