Whips, ropes and chains oh my

There I was, a young woman in my twenties and as fridge as the fresh driven snow; I liked sex just as much as the next person. BUT, let me tell you, it’s very different when you are afraid of the one person in the entire world that you should be the most comfortable with.

For me, frigid meant not being able to have intercourse without about a gallon of Vaseline, literally. Having my body tighten up so quickly and rigidly that it was almost a certainty that nothing was going to penetrate it without a great deal of the before mentioned lubricant and liberal amounts of booze.

The libido is a funny thing; when you are in fear, the body just does not want to respond, to anything, let alone sex. At least mine didn’t.

It also had to do with respect. I thought I loved him but I had no respect for him. That in itself is a downer of huge proportions.

It doesn’t lend itself to passionate and stolen moments together if you’re worried about what he’s going to do next.

As I said before, when your man looks at you and says, “close your eyes” and you are afraid to, you tend to keep one eye open. Well, the same applies when he wants to tie you up.

We had never been into the bondage scene before; it had never even been discussed; shit I didn’t know there was a bondage scene up to this point. I should have seen it coming though. One of our friends had a sister, who along with her husband, were very into all aspects of bondage, whips and other equipment that I could neither explain nor comprehend.

I’m not talking about wrists tied to the bedpost with a pretty silk ribbon, nooooooo. I mean they had thousands of dollars worth of bondage toys, dildos the size of prize winning zucchinis, ropes, boards, and costumes.

It was during a party at my friend’s home, that her sister excitedly told Gary and I about a night of passion that she and her husband had shared just then night before.

I knew I was in trouble, this was going to be more information that I ever wanted to know about this couple.

It seemed that her husband left her tied to a bondage board, naked, for over four hours. He just tied her up and went out. If that had been me, with my luck, the house would have caught fire and there I would be…… naked tied to a board looking like I was waiting to be filleted.

Well, hellooooooo Mr. Fireman…. God!!!!

Was this woman angry when her husband got home, nope, said it was the best sex she had ever had. I was wayyyyyy out of my league and over my head with this shit.

I knew my husband had showed some interest in this sort of thing with our friends because of all the questions he would ask when we happened to be together at a party or whatnot. But it never occurred to me that he would implement it into our sex life, which at this point was almost nonexistent.

So when I got home from my job at the 7-11 at a little after midnight one evening, you might say that I was in for a bit of a shock; to say the least. Our children were at my parents for the night and all I wanted to do was climb to my perch, alone and sleep.

My shift at the 7-11 was 4:00pm to midnight and I was dead on my feet.

Oh, had I mentioned that Gary decided he didn’t want to work any longer so he quit his job at the block company and got me one at the local 7-11?

“Hi honey, you start your new job on Sunday, have a nice day.”

That story is for another day.

Our house was a little house. When you walked into the front door, you were in the living room. There was a short hallway in the living room that went straight to a closet; to the left and right a bathroom and a bedroom.

So, upon walking in the front door, you could turn and take five steps to this doorway.

There were candles all around the living room. A movie projector was situated in front of the doorway and a sheet was placed on the front window… Now, if we had had a normal marriage, I might have been pleasantly surprised, willing to give it a try. But at this point in my marriage, I did not like sex, nor did I ever look forward to it.

It was then that I noticed the eye hooks, three of them, one was screwed in on each side of the doorway and one on the top; hanging like little nooses from each hook was a rope.

This cannot be good.

You can’t imagine what was going through my mind. I am not a prude, but the thought of being tied up spread eagle in the doorway, movies playing on the front window, (I can just imagine what the neighbors thought) and candles everywhere; this was definitely not what I had in mind for the evening, ever.

I had a momentary vision of Fay Wray in King Kong. Tied up and waiting for a fate worse than death at the hands of a giant, gigantic, beast.

All I needed was a ring of flowers for my hair and the scene would have been set. I could actually hear the native’s drums in the distance. I must have been hallucinating.

Unfortunately, I look nothing like Fay Wray and my beast was not a giant ape turned gentle by the lovely maiden. Mine was a husband who happened to be a nut.

Well, instead of telling my new bondage partner that I wasn’t interested, I just looked at him, gave him my best smile, and muttered something inaudible that he took for as a yes.

Ladies, never ever do this if you are afraid or if you reallyyyyy don’t know your partner too well. I knew him, I but I was very afraid of him. This is not a good combination.

I felt like a Thanksgiving turkey ready to be carved.

Once things began to happen all I could do was grin and bear it. He didn’t hurt me but to say the least I was humiliated. Like I said before, if this is not something that you are into, it’s not enjoyable; it‘s awful.

Unfortunately for me, the fun wasn’t over. Gary was ready for round two. For him, the door jams were not his cup of tea, so off to the bedroom he went, (remember, we have bunk beds).

When he was ready, I was summoned to the bedroom. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw; there he was, tied up like a pretzel between the top and bottom bunk.

He resembled a bull that had been hogtied. I actually didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or run.

If I hadn’t been so intimidated, it would have been the funniest, strangest thing I had ever seen. Maybe disturbing would be a more appropriate word to use?

Houdini would have envied the expertise at which he tied himself up.

Now, if all of this wasn’t enough, when all was said and done, I went to bed. Happy that I had survived what turned out to be our first bondage session.

It just keeps getting better and better.

What I didn’t know was that my stud muffin hadn’t taken the hardware out of the door. Soooo, when a mutual male friend came over the following morning the first thing he did was stare at the hooks with the ropes still hanging down from them. Thank God he didn’t see the 5 gallon painter’s bucket of KY sitting nearby.

After what seemed like an eternity, he started to laugh and continued to laugh until he nearly wet his pants.

I guess what made matters worse for me was that my husband proceeded to tell him exactly what we had done the night before.

Now, there’s a gentleman for you.

I am happy to say that we didn’t repeat that particular bondage scenario very often.

Luckily for me, Gary had a hobby; it was called the Silver Dollar.

Every weekend that’s where you would find him; front row center so as not to miss a move from one of the exotic dancers that worked at this very classy establishment. Dancing women, beer and darts; life was good.

The extra bonus for my husband was one of the dancers was the very same woman who was tied to the bondage board all evening. Hell, maybe Gary would get lucky. Shit, doesn’t every woman want her husband drooling over a friend or acquaintance? Perfect.

That was a thorn in my side, but I refused to let the other wives know I hated it.

The other wives were furious that their husbands spent their weekends there and couldn’t understand my caviler attitude. Why wasn’t I upset that my spouse was spending as much time as he could looking at other women, half naked, putting on quite show, just for him.
They had no idea that I was just as torn and upset, just couldn’t show it. Once again I didn’t think I was attractive enough to object.

I had even asked if I could go with him from time to time. My warped little mind thought that if we went together it would strengthen our relationship.

I do believe that I could be the case for why some animals eat their young…

At times I believe the gray matter in my brain must have been tampered with. That’s the only logical explanation. I couldn’t be that stupid, could I??

If these women weren’t happy with me before, they were definitely not pleased with me now.

It was their feeling that If Gary could go to the strip joint without his wife complaining then they could go too. Strength in numbers I guess.

Of the many problems that I refused to see about this situation was the money, the drinking and the affect it had on my little ones.

Drunk does not describe it.

My parents had invited my family over to celebrate my birthday, along with my mother-in-law. By the time we were ready to sit down for my feast Gary showed up. Drunk, high and about as obnoxious as you could possibly be.

I will never know how my dad controlled the rage that he must have felt that night. My mother-in-law was mortified and Gary left before dinner was over.

I cried, yet again. But, I still stayed.

My self confidence at this point was so low that I allowed him to take away what little pride I had left.

What I have learned from all of these situations is that no one can take your pride, confidence and self worth away from you; you have to give it. I allowed him take everything I had.

I couldn’t have known to what degree my self-loathing had reached until Gary brought one of the strippers home; to our home.

With our babies fast asleep in their room and me on my perch asleep in our room I was awoken to sounds of laughter; two men and two women.

My husband brought home a mutual friend and two dancers. I woke up and just sat there, in my room listening.

Drinks were flowing and the atmosphere seemed upbeat and intimate; it was a little party goin on in there and I wasn’t invited.

When our friend left with his “date”, my husband and his very own personal dancer proceeded to have sex on my couch as I just sat there in my room and cried, very softly so as not to let him know I was awake.

It’s funny, Gary had cheated on me before, but never like this. I hadn't realized the total disregard he felt for me, our kids and our marriage until now. What a fool.

So, what would any normal, decent woman do if her husband showed at up at midnight with a stripper named Bambi? I didn’t storm out of the bedroom and demand that they both leave. I didn’t make a sound, and to make matters worse, I didn’t let him know that I had heard. After a time she left, he came to bed and all was quiet.

It was then, and only then, that I realized that maybe spending all your waking hours at a strip club could be detrimental to your marriage.

I was too embarrassed to leave the bedroom. My opinion of myself was so low that I was sure they would have laughed at me for having the nerve to interrupt them. I wasn’t pretty or thin so who the hell was I to object.

I actually thought that I was too ugly to intervene.

Pathetic does not describe my inability to act.

After that night, my mind was filled with ways to make the Silver Dollar inadmissible; to disappear. As if burning the building down was going to make my marriage better. This is how my mind worked back then; get rid of the building and the dancers and all would be ok.

It was complicated; or so I made it out to be. In all actuality, it was very simple. Throw him out, change the locks and get a restraining order.

If only……