Sexual Bondage and Firemen:

Everyone’s got an embarrassing sex story. Mine happened in 1998, my senior year. It was 2 A.M. and my girlfriend was over even though she wasn’t supposed to be in my room after 11 P.M. And we were getting into some pretty kinky stuff. She had me tie her up, write on her, basically treat her like a sex slave. She wanted me to threaten her with death during this role-playing session, too. Obviously, she really got off on this type of stuff.

So, I move some ceiling tiles and tie her hands above her head using the girders. Her ass is about a foot off the bed and she’s got her arms straight up in the air. I put a gag in her mouth, and then wrote “DEAD BITCH” on her chest and “COCKSUCKER” on her back with green permanent marker. I tied up her huge tits and put clothespins on her nipples. (Yes, this was all part of her insane fantasy and she basically told me exactly what I was to do before we even began. It was like a dominatrix who wanted to be the slave, but still gave instructions! I like a little light bondage, but even though this was way out of my freak-league, I enjoyed the pure lunacy of it.) Then she had me stick a vibrating egg in her pussy and set it on a very slow pulse. Then, I put a gag on her and tell her to wait till I get back. I went to the basement to get ice because she wanted a cube shoved up her ass. Halfway back, the fire alarm goes off. I run back to my room and the RA is about to unlock my door to do a bed check. I tell the RA that I’m already out, but I forgot to grab something. He tells me I can’t go back into my room because of the fire alarm. Now, we all know there’s no fire… It’s just some drunk fuck who pulled the alarm. So, I go outside while my girlfriend is tied up in my room with a vibrating egg in her snatch. We’re all waiting outside for about fifteen minutes even though we’re usually back inside within five. Then, the fire department shows up. Apparently, it wasn’t some drunk who pulled the fire alarm; it was some drunk who set the bathroom garbage can on fire up on the fourth floor. I grab the hall coordinator and tell her that my girlfriend is still inside. She asks why the fuck I didn’t say anything. Well, because we’ve had 500 fire alarms and NONE of them were ever real. Additionally, I said my girlfriend didn’t get out because she was asleep and sleeps with earplugs because the slightest noises wake her up. I was hoping I’d be able to go get her alone.

Yeah, that didn’t happen.

The hall coordinator, a security guard, two firemen, and one of the RA’s escort me to my room. The Hall Coordinator puts her key in and I say, “All these people might freak her out. I’ll go get her.” The Fireman yells, “we don’t have time for this! Get her out, now!” He grabs the knob and flings the door open.

This is a sight I will never forget; I doubt anyone else will, either. Everyone goes into immediate shock. There, hanging from the girders is my buck naked girlfriend with tears running down her face. She’s squirming as hard as she can and she’s screaming her muffled yells through the gag. Her tits are tied up and they’ve turned purple. I try to run in, but one fireman tackles me. He and the security guard then throw handcuffs on me. The other fireman goes in and pulls off the gag. My girlfriend screams (keep in mind there is MAJOR MAJOR labored breathing and an intense tone of pain), “GET… THIS… OUT… OF… MY… PUSSY!” The Hall Coordinator is asking what the fuck she’s talking about. I’m screaming, “PULL THE LITTLE CORD! PULL THE LITTLE CORD!” The hall coordinator can’t find any cord because with all the squirming, my girlfriend had sucked it up into her. Instead of cutting her down, they’re trying to figure out how to fish out this vibrator (or maybe they were trying to figure out what the hell she was talking about). It was probably like fifteen seconds, but it felt like an hour. So now, I’m screaming, “CUT HER DOWN! CUT HER DOWN!” The fireman cuts her down and my girlfriend jams her fingers up her pussy and produces a small vibrating egg. They quickly untie her tits and pull off the clothespins. As the nylon ropes and clothespins come off, my girlfriend lets out a scream as the blood rushes back in and back out. By this point, two cops have joined us, a paramedic has joined us, and four more firemen are there. With only one or two exceptions, everyone is still in complete shock.

While they’re dragging me away in handcuffs, my girlfriend is screaming, “No! It’s not his fault! He didn’t do anything!” I’m not fighting, but she’s wrestling the paramedic and the fireman who are helping her down the hall. (She could barely walk.) We get to the front doors and people are starting to return to their rooms. Many are just stopping and watching us. Finally, my girlfriend screams, “It was just kinkiy sex! I wanted it! It was me! I told him I was a ‘dead bitch!’ I told him I was a ‘cocksucker’!” Well, this was a showstopper. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, goes dead silent. Then, a second later, there’s an eruption of laughter.

They drag me and my girlfriend into the Hall Coordinator’s apartment. Now, it’s just me, my girlfriend, the Hall Coordinator, the RA, two cops, and the security guard. One cop and the security guard take me into the bedroom and ask me all sorts of questions. The one that stood out in my mind was, “what the hell were you planning considering you wrote ‘Dead Bitch’ on her chest?” While grilling me in the bedroom, they were asking her questions in the living room. This is quite possibly one of the most humbling experiences of my life… having to describe, in detail, perverse things I was doing to her and why…

After about an hour, they let us go and realized it was, in fact, just some very, kinky sex.

Now, here’s what my girlfriend told me about how things happened on her end. I left the room and she was fine. The fire alarm goes off and she’s freaking out because she knows the RA’s check the rooms. She hears me in the hall and relaxes. As time goes by, the vibrating egg starts to numb her. Then, out of nowhere, it slams her with a massive orgasm. And another. And another. And another. Then it became painful with each successive orgasm. Then she said it was just like a “painful stabbing” with every vibration. She started squirming and the ropes just tightened around her wrists more and more. She tried getting her legs underneath herself to lift up, but her feet were tied to the bedposts. She got one leg undone, but the painful orgasms mixed with the one tied leg caused problems. First, she didn’t have much dexterity because closing her legs made it hurt even more, and with the one tied leg, she couldn’t wiggle her body enough to swing the one leg underneath her. Then, she heard the sirens and freaked out thinking she was going to burn to death. At that point, she just started screaming and wiggling around even more. I didn’t notice it when they were taking her out, but she claims she was just covered in her own spit because of the screaming, the death-writhing, and the gag.

The next day, I gotten written up for:

Violating Intervisitation (opposite sex in your room after hours) Alcohol Possession (it was a dry dorm and I had some booze on the desk) Failure to clear a room during an emergency Disrespect towards a fellow student (I knew the female femi-Nazi hall coordinator had something to do with this one) My girlfriend didn’t get written-up for anything, but she got warnings for everything except disrespect.

As my punishment, I was required to see a school counselor for an hour every week until the end of the school year, I had to pay $50 for each write-up, I had to do 20 hours of community service at the campus ministry office, I had to write an essay on being respectful towards other students, and I had to write an essay on “love and relationships.”

Anyway, I called my dad and told him the story since I wasn’t about to pay the $200 and my dad was so fucking cool he laughed his ass off. He called the school and I don’t know what he said, but after that, the only things I had to do were see the counselor twice and write the essay on “Love and Relationships.” I basically met the counselor, explained the situation, and he signed off on the requirement after twenty minutes. As for the essay, I basically wrote an essay about the “alternative lifestyle” of Dominants and Submissives and I concluded with the line “just because she shows up to class with bruises doesn’t mean she isn’t loved.” They took the essay and I guess they never read it because I never heard anything else about it.

I felt horrible about this, but now that we’re not together, I think it’s hilarious. I only wish it could have been caught on tape. Surprisingly, this incident didn’t deter her from further acts of perversion, bondage, and humiliation.

  • Quincy University
Written on November 21, 2009