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Chapter 2
One day, after daydreaming about bondage through most of an economics lecture that she really should have been listening to, Lauren got back to her room in a state of total erotic frenzy. She locked the door, stripped off her jeans, and peeled her soaked panties away from her pussy. She was about to look at RopeMagic, or Hogtied, or one of her favorite kinky blogs like Kinkerbelle or Luvbight, or any of the other bondage sites that she turned to when she just had to get off, but it all felt the same, somehow. More images, more stories, but the same few minutes of stroking her clit while voyeuristically thinking about other people's experiences. She wanted to imagine herself in her own bondage adventure, to inhabit a fantasy that could have some chance of coming true, so it would feel more real. Not knowing where online kinky people went to find others like them, she went to the personals section of her city's Craigslist and typed in "bondage."
The number of replies startled her. "I guess I'm not alone," she thought to herself. But scanning down the list, very few ads were posted by women. There were a lot of men looking for women, and, she saw, a lot of men looking for men. She did see one couple seeking a woman, and read the post carefully. It was well written - by the girl, it seemed - and it was seeking another young, bisexual girl with a shaved pussy and few inhibitions to be their bondage slut for the night. Both members of the couple were sexually dominant, and they would take turns tying up their slave in tight positions, toying with her pussy, spanking her, and "forcing" her to perform oral sex for her master and mistress. Lauren barely made it through the whole ad before she came with a whole-body shudder, imagining being tied spreadeagle on a bed, stretched out, with her breasts bound and nipples clamped, while a cute, petite girl ground her wet pussy into Lauren's face and a handsome man drove his cock in and out of her vulnerable, exposed cunt. Somehow, the thought that real people were only an email away, anxious to make all of this happen for the right girl, was so much more arousing than a fictional account of the same scenario ever could be.
Over the next few weeks, she would look at bondage listings whenever she was horny and in need of release. She didn't tell Scott, as she thought he might be insecure about her fantasy of projecting herself into other real people's lives.
Most of the ads looking for bondage, to be honest, seemed to be written by barbarous fools. Lauren was a very verbal person, and it turned her on to read a well-written description of what someone was looking for and what he would do to his victim. It helped her visualize the scene in her mind. She also assumed that someone who had a strong command of language would probably be more responsible and more creative about bondage as well. It was strange, Lauren thought to herself, when you had all the time in the world to craft a compelling ad and when no one could know if you're telling the truth, most people still couldn't get it right. But a small subset of the ads were quite detailed and convincing, and she always found something to make her pussy wet.
On one of these occasions, though, something was different. The ad was in the m4w section, and just like so many others, it described a dominant man looking for a submissive girl wanting BDSM experience. Maybe it was the phrase "You will be stripped, gagged, and tightly bound in inescapable shibari positions." Maybe it was his qualification that "This is not about sex, but about the erotic thrill of being expertly restrained and forced to experience the sensations of pleasure and pain that I choose for you. No sexual contact or service expected unless agreed upon beforehand. Novices especially encouraged, my pleasure is in the fulfillment of your long-simmering bondage fantasies." Or maybe it was his somehow believable assurances about discretion and safety, coupled with his age - which was 32. Most of the well-written, self-confident ads she had read over the previous few weeks were posted by men in their forties or fifties, and while she didn't doubt their bondage skills, she found it hard to be aroused by the idea of being naked and vulnerable in front of someone so much older than herself.
Would it be wrong to respond? Part of her knew that she shouldn't do it, but curiosity about exploring such long-standing fantasies got the better of her. He wouldn't be a sex partner, she thought to herself, it's more like a tutor or a guide. I would just be getting a chance to figure out whether my fantasies hold up in reality. Anyway, she convinced herself, he probably won't even respond. And if he does, hopefully he'll include some hot descriptions of his bondage work, and I can decide later whether or not to write back.
Thinking to herself for a moment, she logged into an old gmail account that was registered to a made-up name and wrote:
Hi! I'm kind of nervous, I've never responded to anything like this before or even really considered it. But something about what you said made me feel like I'd be missing out on a great opportunity if I didn't respond. Maybe I just want to learn about myself, I don't know. Anyway, I'm nineteen, 5'3", 110 lbs, straight dark hair, brown eyes. I've played with bondage a little bit, but nothing too serious. I've been thinking about it for forever though, and lately I can't stop imagining what it would be like to be one of the girls in the porn I look at. I think I'd be more comfortable exploring this with a stranger instead of my boyfriend (is that bad?) It just feels too weird to ask my boyfriend to humiliate me and torment me, I don't think I could ever say that to him. So, yeah, that's why I'm writing. What do you think?
She couldn't wait to get back to her email. She was glad she didn't have an iPhone or she'd have checked it every few minutes during class. When she got back to her room that evening after dinner and logged into her account, there was one new message waiting for her:
What do I think? It sounds like a very big part of you won't be satisfied until you've experienced bondage at the hands of someone who knows how to restrain you the way you fantasize about. Maybe you'll discover that it's not for you, or maybe you'll find that your sex life has been missing something all along. I can't tell much about you from one email, except that this urge must be very strong in you for you to have written back. From my experience, most women don't respond to ads like mine on a whim. Some women I've played with have found not just sexual satisfaction, but a deep emotional catharsis in erotic pain and bondage. You might not get to that place with a stranger, but if you do submit to me and have a good time, it might help you verbalize your desires to your boyfriend, who could help you explore them further.
Since you're attached, let's say up front that there would be no sex involved. To clarify: I keep my pants on throughout. OK? Now if you're still interested, why don't you write back and let me know what you've done before and what you would want from a scene with me. What are your definite limits, and what would you be disappointed to leave without experiencing?
She replied immediately: "In terms of what I've done, I've been tied up in a breast harness, hogtied, spreadeagled. My boyfriend has had sex with me and gone down on me while I've been tied up (but I could move around a fair bit). That's about it, really. As for my limits, nothing that's going to harm me or leave any serious marks, and I'm not interested in bodily functions stuff." She thought about telling him everything she wanted to try, but despite how open she was being, it was too shameful to be explicit about her desires. Somehow it was easier saying what she didn't want than what she did. "I attached some pictures of what turns me on," she said instead. "I hope that's OK." She then browsed through kink.com preview pictures for about fifteen minutes, saving to her desktop half a dozen that caught her attention and then attaching them in her message. If there was anything in common among the pictures, it was that all the girls wore restrictive gags, all were bound so that they could barely move (with their arms and legs pulled tightly together or stretched almost obscenely wide), and all but one had clamps attached to their nipples. What was he going to think of her?
When she woke up in the morning, there was a reply waiting. "OK," he said. "I think I get the idea. So, when do you want to come by?"
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