by G. C. Scott
‘Several nights later he crept in again. This time he sat on the bed and woke her deliberately. He was still curious and worried. He seems to have regarded her as an older sister and he thought of her as a confidante in a strange household. Seeing her strapped helplessly to her bed at night worried him. Would there be a day when she had to be kept tied up permanently? My grandmother told him not to worry. She would be all right, she said. She asked him to get her a glass of water to give him something to do. When he came back, she discovered that there was no way she could drink it unless he poured it into her mouth for her. That made her choke and they were afraid the noise would wake their parents. When she was quiet once more he got a clean handkerchief which he moistened. He used that to give her the water a few drops at a time. After that he made a habit of going into her room when everyone else was asleep to see that she was all right. My grandmother was touched by his concern, and they spent many hours in conversation, with him sitting on her bed and she strapped up tight in her leather cocoon. On the hot nights he would brush her hair from her face or wipe her forehead when she sweated. When it was time for him to go back to his bed he would lean down and kiss her goodnight.
‘There wasn’t much else he could do so long as she was strapped into her straitjacket, even if either of them thought of something else. But there came a time, after she had been sleeping in her restraints for about six months, when her parents decided she might be more free. They would both go into her room after she had got into her nightgown to wish her goodnight and to pray together for her continued safety and health in the midst of the temptations of the world, the flesh and the devil – in particular against the demands of the flesh. One or the other of them would tie her hands behind her back and help her to get into bed. Then they would take the lamp away.
‘And on many of those nights she would be unable to restrain herself. She would roll over on to her stomach and grind her hips and vulva against the mattress, trying to make herself come. She described how she bit the bedding to stop herself crying out and waking her parents. She always felt guilty afterwards, but she couldn’t stop.
‘Inevitably, Benjy went in one night and found her bucking and writhing in her bed. He was alarmed. Was this what insanity looked like? He thought it might well do, but luckily he went to look more closely at her before raising the alarm. She looked as if she were in another world, as indeed she was. He watched intently as she gasped for breath and shuddered in the bed. Her eyes were closed and she was unaware of anything except what was taking place between her legs.
‘When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Benjy, his face creased with worry and his eyes puzzled. Of course, he had to know if she was all right. When he was assured on that point, he asked what she was doing. There was no concealing that she had been up to something, and the fact that she chose the time when she was least likely to be observed suggested that it was something others – particularly her parents – might not approve of. At this point she had a choice: try to deny that she had been driving herself to orgasm, and hope he wouldn’t realise what her writhings were intended to do; or tell him as much as she understood and enlist him in the cause. In either case she had to ensure he kept quiet about what he had seen.
‘She thought the best chance of keeping it quiet was to enlist his aid. So she told him as much as she knew about her desires and the pleasure she derived from gratifying them in this way. She revealed that their parents had found out about her “nightly activities”. Masturbation wasn’t a word in either of their vocabularies in those days. That was why, she said, her parents had put her into the straitjacket – an attempt to prevent her from touching herself. “Is that why your hands are tied tonight?” Benjy asked. She nodded. He didn’t understand what she meant by orgasm, but he grasped the central problem at once. His next question took her by surprise. “Do you want me to untie you so you can do it again? I can come back later and tie you up again, so they won’t know what we’ve done.”
‘Deborah – I don’t want to keep calling her grandmother now that I know so much about her – was surprised by the generosity of his offer. He was willing to risk her parents’ displeasure for her sake. But common sense came to her rescue. She told him that that was too risky for both of them. Instead she asked him to help her get out of bed. Benjy pulled the covers off her and helped her sit up. Deborah scooted over to the edge of the bed and let her legs hang over so that her feet touched the floor. Then she told Benjy to raise her nightgown to her waist. She spread her legs and had him kneel between her thighs. “Touch me, Benjy,” she commanded. When he hesitated, she continued, “Don’t worry. It won’t hurt you or me. I’ll tell you what to do. But touch me between my legs now.”
‘Hesitantly, he did as she asked. Deborah gasped when his fingers brushed against her sex, and he drew back in alarm, probably thinking he had hurt her. Deborah told him again not to worry, and to continue with the explorations. It was a bit like the children’s game of show and tell, with Deborah doing all of the showing and most of the telling. At first she had to direct his every move, but she was patient because he didn’t know what he was doing. Deborah didn’t know much more, but she had her feelings as a guide. She knew when he touched a spot she liked. When she came the first time Benjy was scared all over again. He almost bolted, but Deborah calmed him down and got him to do it again, telling him that it felt so good for her. That night he brought her to climax several times without ever understanding what was happening. At the end he helped Deborah to get back into bed and tucked the covers in for her. Benjy wiped her sweating face and shyly kissed her goodnight. Then he went back to his own room.
‘The next night there were guests who stayed late, and the younger members of the household were sent upstairs to prepare themselves for bed. Benjy wanted to know if Deborah wanted him to come to her room that night, but she said no. She would have to wait for her parents to come up to see her before they retired, and he should go to sleep. She regretted it, but caution was needed. It wouldn’t do to get both of them suspected. And the sense of guilt she felt was stronger after the last night.
‘But of course she had no intention of stopping. It felt too good, and Deborah wrote that she was not completely sure that something that felt so good could be so awful. For a young woman of her times she was becoming quite liberal, as people often do when the strictures of their society prevent them from doing what gives them pleasure. When Benjy came to her room the next time, they repeated the earlier success. Well, for Deborah it was a success – she didn’t know what Benjy got out of it. After they had fallen into a regular pattern, she plucked up the courage to ask him what he felt. His reply startled and moved her. He told her he liked doing this for her because it made her so glad. He might have been trying to say that he loved her, but then, as now, no one wanted to use the L word openly. In the diary she only recorded that she was pleased he felt that way, avoiding a display of her own feelings.
‘The next turning point came when Deborah got Benjy to massage her clitoris with his finger. It was the next logical step, and I wonder how she took so long to get there. But I have to remember that she belonged to a different age.’
Harriet nodded her agreement, but added, ‘There are still people around now who should have been born into that age. Your grandmother must have been a remarkable woman. Her behaviour took courage, and her diary even more so. It would have been dynamite if her parents had found it.’
‘I know,’ Rachel agreed. ‘But she had even more courage than that. She showed her diary to my grandfather shortly before they were married, and he both helped her conceal her feelings from others while he did his best to give her physical pleasure of the type she had come to depend on. She was so happy with him. And he was liberated or loving enough to be able to do gladly the things that made her happy. She doesn’t say if he shared her predilection for bondage, but he did what she preferred often enough to please her immensely, and never condemned her tastes or tried to chang
e her. Maybe that’s the greatest love – to accept someone else for what they are. And maybe Benjy was responding to her in the same way.
‘They were drawn together by the secret they were keeping. It was something private between them. It made them fellow conspirators in the universal game of outwitting one’s elders. Deborah wrote that they carried on this way for a couple of years, with Benjy visiting her almost every night after her parents were asleep. Even when there was no sex play, he liked to talk things over with her. Deborah describes him creeping into her room and asking, “Are you awake, Debbie?” Then he would go over and sit on her bed and they would talk. On those occasions when she was strapped into her straitjacket that was all they could do, but there were other times when only her hands were tied and still they talked. He was curious about what she felt when he touched her, and Deborah tried to explain it to him. That wasn’t very successful because he had no experience of what she felt. Merely saying that she felt good conveyed nothing to him. Eventually the time came when she resolved to show him. He was getting interested in girls on his own, and his ignorance was getting in his way.
‘She chose a summer night for his initiation. She had promised her parents that she would be “good” and had complained about being hot in her straitjacket. So that night her mother agreed that she need only have her hands bound. As usual both her parents went in to prepare her for bed. It was a ritual by now, and everyone knew what to do. They all knelt to pray, and when they were done Deborah stood with her hands behind her back. Her father tied her wrists and they both helped her get into bed. Her mother tucked her in with an admonition to “be good” and they left her alone. When Benjy crept in, she was in such a fever she thought she would set the bed on fire. He helped her sit on the bed as usual and began to stroke her labia, paying particular attention to her clitoral area. She had taught him that she liked that best of all, without either of them knowing why.
‘Deborah reached several climaxes. She says she had to ask Benjy to give her a handkerchief to bite on so she wouldn’t cry out and bring disaster on them both. When she was done Benjy sat down to talk, but Deborah made him understand that tonight was going to be different. She told him to take off his pyjamas. He was reluctant and shy, but she insisted, joking that she couldn’t hurt him with her hands tied behind her back. Once he had taken them off she made him sit on the side of the bed as she had done. She knelt between his legs and bent down to take him in her mouth. She says that he was half erect, so she knew he had been aroused by touching her and seeing her respond. Some instinct made her close her lips around his cock and use her tongue and teeth to arouse him. At first he was nervous and afraid, but finally he began to enjoy the sensations. Deborah says she knew he would be all right when he put his hands on her head and held her against him.
‘Whenever I imagine that scene I go all hot and shivery. In my fantasy I see a girl of eighteen or so kneeling between the legs of a man, not a youth. Her hands are tied behind her back and the moonlight makes deep shadows in the corners of the room as she bends to take his cock in her mouth. He holds her fiercely against him, forcing her to take all of him. She clamps the shaft between her lips and begins a rhythmic in-and-out motion while he urges her on. Then he explodes inside her mouth and she swallows the semen. When she looks up the moonlight falls across her and she has my face. At other times it’s me sitting on the bed with my hands tied behind my back while a man kneels between my thighs and plunges his tongue inside my cunt while he uses his mouth to drive me to orgasm.’
‘Well,’ Harriet remarked, ‘you certainly have a healthy and robust fantasy.’
Rachel smiled. ‘I do, don’t I? But it’s only a fantasy.’
‘Well, we may be able to change some of that for you. Have you ever spoken to Jeff about this?’
‘No. I haven’t the courage.’
‘If he cares for you he’ll at least listen. Or I could visit the two of you. I may be able to help both of you over your initial problems. We’ll come to that later, after you’ve had a chance to think it over. But you were telling me about your grandmother.’
‘Yes, I was,’ Rachel said. ‘I find it easier to explain myself through her experiences. Sort of talking myself around to my own fantasies. I want to have the chance to try out the same things.’
‘And so you shall. But first tell me more about your grandmother. She sounds like such an interesting person.’
Rachel nodded and continued where she had left off. ‘Deborah wrote that she became excited whenever she thought of being put into her restraints. The feeling became overwhelming almost as soon as she had been strapped into her straitjacket, and it built all night. Being unable to relieve herself only added to her determination to masturbate when she was let out in the morning. She wrote that at first she took to spending a lot of time in the bathroom. And then like a miracle Benjy began his nightly visits to her room. After that there was no going back. She formed the mental connection between sex and bondage during those years, and she never broke it afterwards. When she took Benjy to a climax, they were both well on the road to forming a habit of oral sex – which their elders would have labelled “beastly” if they had known. She was very lucky to have found someone as understanding as my grandfather later on.
‘Deborah says that Benjy was frightened when she brought him to climax the first time, but that he quickly came to enjoy the sensation. And it wasn’t too long before he became adept at using his mouth to bring her to climax. So one way and another they learnt about how to please one another.
‘And there were other experiments. Once or twice, Deborah says she managed to find an “implement” which she was able to stuff inside her on those nights before her parents put her into the straitjacket. She never said what she used, but I imagine she found something in the vegetable bin to do the job. Her parents’ house doesn’t sound like the place to have had purpose-made dildoes lying around loose! But although she found the sensation of being stuffed full pleasant enough, she was never able to make herself come because she was strapped to the bed on her back and couldn’t turn over to hump herself or rub her “spot” – another of her euphemisms – on the mattress. So the tension built all night while she twisted and tugged at the straps.
‘Deborah put all this into her diary, which she kept until she was married, and then later showed to her husband. The account stops shortly after then. She records only that my grandfather understood her and did his best to make her happy. And I saw for myself that she – they – were still practising bondage even after they were both middle-aged.’ Rachel paused. This was clearly the end of the story.
‘It looks as if you’ve come to the right place,’ Harriet said as the silence threatened to become awkward. ‘And you’ve suggested the approach that would suit you best. I think we should try two “implements” on you. When I’m finished with you I’ll be going out for a bit and you’ll be alone here. You’ll have time and privacy to work out how it feels and to think about whatever else you might want to try. I won’t strap you to the bed, so you’ll be able to twist and turn as much as you like. And you’ll be safe. The house will be locked and no one else has a key.’ She thought of Tom when she said this, but she didn’t imagine he would come by now without her permission. She continued. ‘When I come back you can tell me how you got on and we’ll see if anything else has occurred to you. And if things don’t work out, we can try something else. There are lots of things we can do. Will that be all right?’
Rachel nodded, looking both eager and apprehensive.
Harriet rose and beckoned the other woman to follow her, leading the way upstairs to the guest bedroom. The other possibility was to take Rachel downstairs to her cellar, where the really serious bondage gear was kept, but Harriet thought a gentler initiation was called for. If Rachel liked bondage, there would be plenty of time to introduce her to the real thing. Upstairs she allowed Rachel to look over the guest bedroom. The younger woman probably didn’t appreciate the heavy door
with the sturdy lock and the lack of a handle on the inside, but she couldn’t help noticing the two hooks set into the ceiling and the thick glazing in the window.
‘This is a secure room, Rachel. I use it for visitors who want to try B&D for a few hours. When I leave you I’ll lock this door as well as the entrance doors to the house. It would take a serious attempt, with heavy equipment, to get into this room through the door or the window. So no one will be able to get at you while you’re helpless.’
Rachel shivered slightly at that idea, but Harriet thought she was more interested in the possibilities than frightened by them. Good. Rachel might well discover a whole new aspect to her sexuality, for that was the basis of her urge. There didn’t seem to be any other reason why people sought out the opportunity to be bound and imprisoned – at least none that Harriet was aware of. It all came down to some twist in the sex urge, and sooner or later her visitors realised that, or else they never returned. Being tied up for hours at a time was boring unless there was some underlying sexual motive.
Rachel stood near the window, waiting to be told what to do.
‘Why don’t you start by taking off as much of your clothing as you’d like,’ Harriet suggested. It might be instructive to learn about Rachel’s preferences that way. And Harriet could always make further suggestions – or give peremptory orders, if it came to that. But not just yet.
Rachel had clearly not considered this eventuality. ‘My clothes?’ she said hesitantly. ‘You mean, get naked?’
‘Well, somewhere between that and fully clothed, at least. Don’t worry about me. It’s all girls together, and I won’t eat you – unless you indicate that’s what you want! This is a trial. Go as far as you like. If you’d prefer, you can go into the bathroom and get undressed. Come back here when you’re ready. It would be a good idea to go to the toilet beforehand anyway. That might prevent an accident later when you can’t.’