Shame! **ding** Shame! **ding** Shame **ding**

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.