I was very young when I first became aware my kinky tendencies (only 4 years old, in fact), but that’s the subject of the next 30 Days post, and I didn’t know what it was or that I was different for quite awhile.
I have always been fascinated at any depiction of bondage: Books, video, photos, comic books, TV, movies. My dad and I both liked detective shows; we also liked to watch the Batman series on Tuesdays (this really dates me!).
By the time I was maybe 9 or 10, I started being aroused when I saw bondage-related things, but again: I didn’t know what it was (sex ed didn’t exist yet and I never had The Talk with my parents). I just knew it felt good, but it also started making me feel ashamed of myself. I started wondering exactly why I was so obsessed with bondage, and I started wondering if something was wrong with me.
By the time I neared puberty, I was utterly convinced something was terribly wrong with me; that I was some kind of sicko. But I remained enthralled by the subject.
As I blundered through puberty, I discovered that although I might be a sicko, I had a lot of company. That transitioned me from feeling ashamed and alone to feeling a little bit less ashamed, but not alone at all.
And the rest, as they say, is history.