Journey
of Discovery
By
Victoria Mystere
Edited
by Studbound
Chapter
Two
Earlier that year:
"Honey, you coming to bed?"
The simple words echoed in the room and hearing no response, she repeated them. Still the house remained silent. With a look of consternation Lillian Donovan rose from crisp white sheets on the bed and carefully smoothed the place where her thin body had made an indentation. She sighed and wandered into the hall. Glancing quickly down the stairwell, she could see that all was as it should be -- dark and peaceful.
Restlessly she moved quietly past the children's rooms and seeing the faint glow from the night-light, into the bathroom. Her dark hair was messed from the pillow and she ran her fingers through it in an attempt to create at least a semblance of her normal self. She was a proper woman and to be seen by anyone -- even her husband -- with her hair disheveled was not a part of her personality.
Leaving the bathroom she looked down the hallway and saw the faint light from the computer's screen as it managed to slip beneath the closed door. She moved quietly down toward the light and opened the door.
Her husband Howard quickly hit the key sequence to blank the screen and turned with a start. "I thought you were sleeping?"
"Not yet. What are you doing?"
"Just playing on the Internet, why?"
"Howard, it is nearly one o'clock in the morning. I think you should come to bed."
"Okay. Just give me second to shut down and I'll be there."
Moments later she felt him slip into bed. She smiled for the world was right once more. Still, what had he been doing? The thought troubled her and she tossed restlessly for the next fifteen minutes. She glanced at the clock and watched as the hour changed from a one to a two. Still she tossed in the bed with the thought of what he had been doing echoing in her consciousness. Something was wrong. The feeling invaded her consciousness and denied her sleep.
After a small amount of time she heard his breathing slow and become regular. She reached her hand to his shoulder and shook him gently. "Howard, Howard, are you awake?" She listened carefully for a response and was unrewarded for her effort.
He slept heavily.
With a sigh she crept silently across the room and opened the door. Taking care to close the door silently behind her, she turned the hall light on and walked toward the computer room. Opening the door she turned on the light. Retreating briefly to the hall, she turned off the light and closed the door behind her. She moved purposefully to the table holding the machine and turned it on. Choosing the icon for the Internet provider she chose the automatic logging on option and sat in the chair and waited.
The sound from the speakers seemed too loud as the modem made its connection and she glanced behind her to make certain she had closed the door tightly. She had.
Reading the welcoming banner she moved the arrow to the icon representing HISTORY. She clicked it on. Reading through the list of universal resource locators she begin to frown. Every one of them seemed to be a connection to some sex site or another. Many of them had names with words she knew but had never seen in this context. Instead of moving the arrow up the list, she chose the one above the logoff command and pressed it purposefully.
Nearly instantly, in large red letters, the legend:
"THIS SITE CONTAINS ADULT SEXUAL MATERIAL. IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY ADULT
SEXUALITY -- LEAVE NOW! IF YOU ARE OVER 21 AND IN A LOCALE WHERE VIEWING
PORNOGRAPHIC MATERIAL IS NOT ILLEGAL, CLICK HERE AND BE WELCOME IF NOT,
CLICK HERE TO LEAVE NOW" appeared on the screen.
She clicked on the WELCOME word highlighted in blue and waited. At the bottom of the screen she watched as the computer told her what it was doing. Endless streams of information saying it was getting such and such a file. She recognized some of the file types, but not all. She was not sure was a file with the extension of .GIF was and there seemed to be a lot of them. Finally the computer seemed to stop for a moment. She waited. The screen blanked and words began to form at the top of the page and she read them carefully. "CLICK ON THUMBNAILS TO LOAD IN SELECTED PICTURE".
In her life she had never been prepared to view the images that formed in tiny pictures on the screen. Women and men were bound in every position imaginable. There were many pictures of men bound, gagged, and suspended by chains, women dressed as if they were animals with horse bits in their mouths, women bound with their breasts distended by ropes, men with clamps attached to their breasts -- she was surprised - horrified.
Choosing to exit the service she returned to the main screen. In the corner, away from the other applications she saw an icon of a camera. Without thinking about it, she moved the arrow to the camera and clicked. The screen filled with an image similar to those she had just seen -- only larger. The tears continued to fall. With a sigh she turned the machine off and moved into the dark hallway.
He was shocked when she confronted him about the pictures. What were those pictures? He didn't even know. It had started simply enough. Just out of curiosity he had typed the letters BDSM into the service's search engine. Nothing in his life had ever prepared him for what he found. All of his darkest fantasies came springing to life. Thoughts he had been hiding and trying to smother since childhood were suddenly displayed in front of him -- he felt intoxicated. His heart quickened and he felt a robustness to living that he thought he had lost forever enter his being.
Certainly he was aware of his interest in bondage. It was something that was made clear to him when he was a child playing a silly game. His thoughts drifted back to that day when he was ten years-old and playing with his best friend -- Sally Butterfield. That summer they had spent nearly every day together doing things that children do. She was like him and that was enough. The fact that she was a girl mattered little. She was as good at ball as most of the boys and she also liked to play fantasy games -- something he didn't like to share with his friends.
That day Sally had suggested they play pirate and captive. Pirate television show were the rage at that time and had infected society's consciousness to the point where it was nearly impossible to pass a store that sold toys without being bombarded with buccaneer images. Being Sally she decreed she would go first. He said he was willing to play, but had still laughed when she pointed the plastic sword at him and instructed him to place his hands behind his back. She repeated the command, "Place your hands behind your back, prisoner!" He started to protest, "Sally, I don't think this is a good idea. The unfamiliar movement in his groin had told him to tell her no. She laughed and said, "Sorry about that. Do it anyway." As if to strengthen her point, she moved the toy sword to his neck and pricked him. He quickly placed his hands behind him. She moved behind him and after pulling a piece of curtain cord from her jeans pocket quickly looped the slender line around his wrists and pulled it tight. Feeling the cord bite into his thin wrists excited him and he groaned.
"What did you say, prisoner?"
"Er . . .nothing."
"Good. I like it that way. I am going to gag you."
With a deliberate movement the small girl walked around him until she faced him once more. She had a small smile as she forced a cloth into his mouth, tying it in place with more cord. She said, "Good, I think that will do. Now, drop to your knees." The venom in her voice told him to do so and he dropped quickly down. He stood on his knees and looked at the ground. There was something about the scene that was very uncomfortable and he didn't want to make eye contact. He tried to follow her as she moved behind him and looped another cord around his ankles. As the ropes tightened he could feel his penis getting hard. His thoughts of embarrassment were overwhelming.
He closed his eyes and waited. The movement of his bound wrists caught him by surprise and he felt the bonds tighten as she tied another cord around them. She tightened it further and he felt himself being drawn backward as she pulled his wrists toward his ankles. She grunted as she cinched the rope tightly and smiled. Moving in front of him she went to the laundry pile and retrieved a kitchen towel. Standing behind him she tightened the towel around his eyes and the world became dark. After what seemed to be forever he felt her foot on his shoulder as she pushed. He tumbled onto his side and lay there whimpering . . ..
The experience had ended as innocently as it began. After being interrogated by the small girl about the Crown's ship movements, she released him. His face was crimson as he said, "Sally, I have to go home now."
He never forgot that experience. Still, what was he going to say to his wife Lillian? Nothing came to mind. There had to be a way to explain that he didn't want to do to her the things as she saw in the pictures. He tried to think of how he could explain his need to be bound. The pictures, oddly enough, turned him on not because he wanted to do such things to women, but rather to have them done to him. Seeing pictures of men and women bound was as close as he could come and he always put himself in their place.
"Lillian, I think I can try to explain, if you will let me."
"Sorry, Howard, I am not particularly interested in your explanations."
"Have I ever even suggested to you anything of that type? Have I ever asked to tie you up?"
She listened to his words and considered them. After a moment she replied, "There was that time at the lake. You know, when I tied you up. Do you remember?"
Did he remember! That night of passion ten years ago had been the most exciting night of his life. They had rented a cottage on a northern lake and made love as only men and women in their mid-twenties can -- often. They had rented the cottage for a week and after three days they began to tire of the endless lovemaking. They had been married for four years before that but this had been their first opportunity to take a mutual vacation from their professions. With nothing to do and a lot of time to do it, they had fallen madly in love over the three days and couldn't keep their eyes or hands off each other.
That night Lillian had taken one of her knee socks off and thrown in on the bed. Howard looked at it and began to throw it on the floor with the other dirty clothes. With a gleam in her eye she stopped him and told him to turn around. He felt the soft material close over his eyes and the world became dark. He felt her lips touch his and he responded instantly. She kissed him softly at first and then harder.
Trying to return the passion he moved toward her. She stopped him and without a word pushed him onto his back in the middle of the bed. His excitement grew as he felt another sock, still warm from her body, being tightened around his wrist. Involuntarily he moved his arm toward the corner of the bed and she deftly tied the sock to the bedpost. She glanced around the room and found their robes hanging on the closet door. Retrieving the belts from them she moved to the other side of the bed and tied his other wrist. He stretched his legs toward the corners and his efforts were rewarded with the tightening of another belt from the robes. Leaving only his left leg free to kick, he moved it toward the other corner. As he lay in the darkness with three limbs stretched and tied to the corners of the bed: he knew ecstasy.
Suddenly he heard the clang from the buckle of the belt on his jeans and guessed what was coming next. As he felt the stiff leather and cold buckle on his ankle he nearly ejaculated. She pulled it tight and somehow fastened it to the other bedpost. Reaching down she took her thumbs and placed them under the band of his jockey shorts and slowly moved them down his hips. When she could only get so far, she left him alone: bound and helpless.
The next sensation he could feel was the coldness of the scissors as they slid up the outside of his thigh. Every sound seemed amplified in the silence and he could hear the snip of each thread of cotton as she cut through the underwear. She stretched her body over his and repeated the action on the other side of his body. Her breasts lightly brushed his penis and he groaned. Even bound and blindfolded, he could identify their soft weight.
As he recalled that night he felt his penis harden and he groaned. "I remember it very well. Did I suggest that you tie me up?"
"No. I guess not. I just don't get it. What are you doing in that room after midnight?"
"For some reason pictures like those excite me."
"Why?"
"I honestly don't know. I think there is something deep-seated in all of us that begs for either domination or submission -- or maybe even both."
"What do you mean?"
"Think about it. All of our lives we are placed in competition with others -- whether we want to be or not. Sometimes don't you just wish you could let all of those things go? The responsibility of deciding what to do? The need to think about your actions? The responsibility of owning up to what you have done? Bondage removes these encumbrances from us. If we are bound and helpless -- we have little control over what happens. We can do things we otherwise would never do without fear of reprisal. We can think things, imagine, let our minds run free. When we are bound, it's simply not our fault. When you are bound, you surrender, and you trust the person who tied you up. You are under their control. I find this intoxicating. Struggling, feeling the tight bindings, all is intensely erotic."
"But what about the other side -- the domination side?"
"Are you going to tell me that you have never been in a position where you wanted -- but did not have -- power. I don't mean knowledge for they are not the same thing. Knowledge requires responsibility -- power is its own keeper. If one has power, one does need knowledge. They are quite different. That night at the lake, when you tied me to the bed, what did you feel? Was it power?"
"I don't know. I suppose it might have been. I never thought about it afterwards. It was an interesting game for that night but that was about the extent of it. I guess I didn't see it as anything other than a romantic game on a romantic vacation."
"Would you believe I think of that night every time we make love? Haven't you ever seen me stretch my hands toward the corners of the bed and grab the bedposts?"
"Yes, I guess I have. I just didn't think too much about it. After all, we all have our own little idiosyncrasies."
"Well, when I do that I was thinking of that night. It helps me to perform. Lillian, I can get an erection just imagining what you looked like that night. Your breasts shining in the reflected moonlight. Your lips touching me everywhere. It was the single most perfect night of my life."
"Well, why didn't you say something?"
"I didn't know how you would react. I think it is has been proven beyond a doubt that my instincts were correct on this one. I was afraid I would upset you, and I have."
For the first time since before she went to bed, she smiled. "I guess you were right. The problem is, what are we going to do about it? I don't want you spending your nights looking at dirty pictures -- I just don't think it is healthy."
story continues in Journey of Discovery 3 by Victoria Mystere - Edited
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