It was one of the rare times that Mom and Dad had decided to run off on there own. It was starting to get that time of the year when the warm summer months slipped away to the cooler days of autumn. I was still running around barefoot and in shorts though. At around nine years old or so, who worried about being warm at that age when you are playing?
Before they left they told me and my brother that he was in charge while they were away. No that surprising since he was seven years older than I was. They also said in there own parental way to him that everything better go smoothly. Being the teenager he was, of course he said he was going to be good.
I can't recall what I did to pass the time away but my brother was off working on one of his four wheelers in his room. Not the whole thing, just some parts of an engine or such. It wasn't so bad of a time. That was until he got a call from some friends to go meet him somewhere. Of course in my sweet innocent younger sister type of way,
I reminded him that he wasn't suppose to leave. He said he was. I said he wasn't suppose to. He said he was. I said no he wasn't. He said he was. I said Mom won't like it.
That prompted him to go to his room. To sulk no less. No doubt my argument that, "no he wasn't" and "mom won't like it" had won out. So I flipped on the tv in the living room and started to go through the channels. No remote yet in our 80's household so I actually had to stand by the tv and go through the channels. How did I survive I don't know.
My brother came in from his room and grabbed me by the shoulder and turned me around. He was holding a mess of long socks. The kind that had those horizontal stripes at the top of them. He took both of my wrists and made me put them behind my back. I didn't resist much because I had no doubt of getting free. He tied them off and in a matter of seconds I wiggles my hands free and gave his one of those looks. The kind that screams, "that's the best you got?".
Well, that wasn't all he had. Next he led me to what would end up being my final destination for awhile, Mom's old rocking chair that was across and to the right of the tv and next to the window with a view of our lawn.
This time I put up a little more of a fight but eventually got plunked down in the seat. He put my right wrist to the armrest and tied the sock tight, holding it in place. The knot was really fat and on the top of my wrist, away from my fingers. He repeated with the left wrist and waited a moment. I wiggled and struggled and sort of made some headway with the right wrist but a few modifications from him stopped that.
Next came the kicking. I'll let all your older brother imagine where I was aiming. Unsuccessful at keeping him away, two more long socks were used to tie my ankles to the rounded legs of the rocking chair. One ankle to one chair leg and they were tight knots too, but he didn't seem too concerned where he placed the knots on these.
I can't remember what I said to him as he watched me to see if I could get free right away, but I am sure those classic, "you'll never get away with this" probably crossed my lips during my little tirade. That was answered with a folded up sock being held to my mouth. I shut them tight and kept twisting my head away from it. After pinching my nose and also keeping my head still that way, I lost the battle and had to breath. In went the sock and then that was covered with another sock. It originally was meant to be an otm gag I think. But having tried to get the one in my mouth out, the gag slipped further in...making it more of a cleave gag.
After wiggling and mmffff'ing some he went over and switched the tv to MTV. Regardless of whether I wanted to watch it or not wasn't the point. I didn't have a say in the matter so I fussed some. He patted me on the head and said he would be back later.
He headed out the door and onto one of his motorcycles and sped away. From my vantage point I could see him running up the dirt road. I started to wiggle and struggle. It became quite apparent that I would have to work freeing my hands first. So after alot of pulling and wiggling about, I must have stretched the sock enough and freed one of my hands. After that was just a matter of time and I undid all the knots and untied the gag and spit out the one in my mouth.
I dumped the socks back into his room and went back into the living room and watched what I wanted. I will admit I felt a certain amount of excitement and triumph at getting free. Not long after he came back and didn't even seemed impressed that I got free. I think he would have stayed out longer but he was worried about me. Or more like he was worried of what Mom and Dad would say if they came back early and found there daughter tied to a chair. I never told Mom and Dad about the whole thing. Didn't seemed worth mentioning.
Some requested after posting this journal entry: [link] that I would write about the experience. So I have written about it to the best that my memory recalls the events. Nothing bad happened and nothing inappropriate happened either.
Man, one thing I never tire of hearing about is when all of this began for people. And you know, it always seems to be very early... but then deep-seated things like fetishes couldn't really spring up overnight. There is a wonderful sort of innocence and beauty in these tales, which should teach us that a sexual fetish is not something crude or twisted, born of abuse or trauma and coloring all of our relations and behaviors, but it is something inexplicable, deep, and special, which inspires a level of self-awareness that I honestly don't think everyone reaches. The kink is a gift, the deepest, most personal part of yourself and capable of arousing the greatest passion you could ever know. What a beautiful curiosity that began it, and what a wonderful relief when we find we aren't alone, and can celebrate this gift rather than suppress or be ashamed of it.
To ensure that you aren't overwhelmed, I didn't just have a huge revelation from your story and type all of this in a mad, foam-mouthed epiphany. But like I said, your work is one of those stories of how a fetish began that is very beautiful in its innocence and relatability. Thanks for sharing.
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