Often those of us in D/s look for a giant landmark events that "flipped the switch" and set us down our chosen path. I never really had one of those, but I did have experiences that I would credit with planting the seeds.
I had a sister that was two years older than me. Most of her friends had parents who were also friends and so they had a decent carpool network set up. As a result, when she would have friends over she would usually have 2-3 at a time. One of her friends, who I shall call M, was fairly special to me. Things probably started when I was around age 8 or so, but I can't remember for sure.
M was very pretty. She was athletic and a little bit of a tomboy. When she was over I would often end up with them either by me being bored and an annoying little brother or due to them invading my space. I would often spend time in our basement where it was the coolest. While M was a part of the crowd, she was a bit more independent. Often she would bring up something to do and she was less
susceptible to just blindly following what was happening if it wasn't
of any interest to her.
The first seed happened one winter when I was in our basement and M, my sister, and another friend came down and M told me to play cops and robbers with them. I was a bit of a brat and told her I didn't want to. I had outgrown playing that around age 5-6 and thought it was a bit strange that 10 year-olds wanted to play it. She insisted and I finally agreed. We basically played a glorified game of hide and seek where two people hid, 2 people searched, and if you were "caught," you got taken to the base, which was under a table in our basement. I didn't put a whole lot of effort into hiding and she found me in about two minutes.
M grabbed my hands and told me I was caught and had to come to the base. I struggled against her but being as I was a bit small and she was rather developed for her age, she was able to overpower me and drag me there. They had brought their coats and things down to the basement. M retrieved their scarves and proceeded to tie my wrists and ankles together. I protested and struggled but she pinned me down and said, "this is your jail and you're the prisoner." Each time I spoke she would shush me and tell me that prisoners weren't allowed to talk and each time I struggled she would tighten her grip on me and hold me down harder.
We just lied there under the table without speaking, her grip never loosening on my arms. It's tough to gauge the passing of time as a child, but it seemed like forever (it was probably for about 45 minutes). The others never returned (I would assume they thought playing cops and robbers was dumb as well) and eventually she got bored. M untied me and left to go find the others.
Similar situations happened several times that winter as well as the winters to follow. When it was nice outside they were mostly outside so it was only during the winter that M would seek me out. The situations would sometimes change a little bit (e.g. the number of friends that were over, if the others pretended to play or not, if the others stayed in the room or left us by ourselves, etc.).
The next time we "played" it was 3 cops with me as the lone robber, although M was the only one who was actually playing and I would reluctantly play her victim. The main thing that evolved was M's bondage. After a single failed attempt to tie my wrists to the legs of the table, it didn't take long before she was wanting to tie my hands behind my back instead of in front, and she flipped me onto my stomach and sat on my back. When I protested, M reminded me that prisoners weren't allowed to talk and then tied a scarf over my face, knotting it behind my head, saying "when this is over your mouth, you can't talk."
M seemed to get more creative the more friends that were over at once since she made full use of their available winter clothes to bind me. She began to tie my legs together with one scarf around the ankles and another around my knees. The first time M did this she pulled me up and wanted me to hop around for her before tackling me and holding me down. I always offered some form of resistance and she usually found some solution to counter it. When I tried untying the scarf around my wrists, she would put mittens on my hands and then tie them tighter. A time when M ran out of scarves after tying up my legs and hands I began to speak. She seemed stumped for a second but then grabbed her stocking cap and pulled it down over my head until it covered my face. M said "now you can't see and can't speak." I replied with a smart-ass comment that I could still see through the hat and it wasn't a scarf so I could still speak. She commanded me to wait there and she returned a couple of minutes later with a scarf that she had found in our closet and wrapped it over my face and mouth before tying it off so that I really couldn't see.
At the time, I had no clue why she did this and while I claimed it bugged me, I came to count on her spending time with me to counter some of my loneliness (my friends all lived 10+ miles away so if it wasn't planned well in advance, I was by myself). Our play continued over several years. She hit puberty early and really began to develop. They were also becoming teens and began dressing differently, wearing perfume and make-up, and the like. I was still in a "girls are gross" phase but I really liked M as a friend and went along with things and she now stood over a foot taller than me and outweighed me by quite a bit.
The pinnacle happened one winter when my sister had four friends over at once. They did their usual and dropped off all of their stuff in the basement and M got right to things. I think she must have planned things out in her head but she didn't even have me hide. M left me standing up and tied my ankles and knees together with scarves and then started to bind my hands in front of me. M stopped, retrieved a pair of mittens and pulled them onto my hands, but she put them on the wrong hands so that the thumbs faced outwards and all 5 of my fingers were lumped together. She gave them a slight tug and then rebound my hands in front of me. One of my sister's friends had a heavy parka. M picked it up and put it on me backwards, draping the shoulders over me so that my arms weren't in the sleeves. She spun me around and zipped it up my back to the top, pulled the hood up over my face, and pulled the drawstrings as tight as she could before tying them off. My arms were pinned to my sides, I couldn't see anything, and I had to hop to move. As usual, M stayed silent and she nudged me onto the couch before moving me onto the floor and dragged me under the table.
"I can't breathe," I yelled. "You'll be fine," she replied. "I can't breathe," I repeated. She let out a sigh and undid the hood, pulling me onto my knees. M then pulled a hat over my face and layered a scarf over the eyes and mouth, indicating I wasn't supposed to speak. "You'll be fine," she whispered and pulled the hood back up over my face and pulled it even tighter. I started to struggle by gyrating, trying to get my hands free or slip down into the coat, my breath was heaving. I felt something wrap around my body several times and then tighten, pinning my arms even closer to my sides and removing any wiggle room. I then felt more layers being wrapped around my head and face, over and over before being pulled snug. M guided me to the floor and we lied down. I couldn't see. I couldn't move. I could barely hear. My face was burning hot and my breath was hot and heavy.
I felt M tug at the back layers of whatever was over the hood. She pulled it and fidgeted with it for about a minute before retying it. I felt her lift my head and layers being added around my neck and then she slid me a few inches and she tied the other end to the leg of the table. When she finished, I felt M lie down next to me and we stayed that way for a few minutes. Without speaking, she slowly undid everything, told me she was going to see what the others were up to, and left the room (I was later chewed out by my sister for wearing her friend's coat).
We never again went that far but things still happened as time went on. Around the time she was 13 and I was 11, M began to stop using scarves to bind me but instead preferred to pin me down and just hold each wrist with her hands. I was just starting to know how pretty she was and how much I liked her smell. I grew to realize that the scarf and hat she had been using over my face had been hers. I recognized the smell. I was still immature and had no idea what to make of any of this, but she had become a lot more overt with verbal teasing and playful flirting.
My first contact-induced erection happened somewhere in the realm of 11 or 12 when she had pinned me down and mounted me cowgirl style. I'm guessing she must have felt it because she never did it again after that (I was too dense to realize that I had gotten turned on by it). When I first saw this picture it reminded me heavily of her:
Within a year, my parents got divorced, my life fell apart, and I morphed into an angry ball of rage, self-hatred, and confusion which lasted for several years. We never again spent time together in a private setting, but looking back, M was quite a little Domme in the making.
A few years later I began spending a lot of time at clubs downtown in the warehouse district (starting at age 16) and/or hanging out at late night coffee houses in the artsy areas of the city. I ran into M and her older sister (who was 5 years older than me) a few times out there and saw her sister out at clubs fairly regularly for the next couple of years. I didn't know it at the time, but I'd bet my left nut that M's older sister was a Domme based upon how she dressed. If that's true, it must have run in the family.
I will note, that I didn't even remember my experiences with M until a few years ago. I have a pretty big mental block over my youth and I didn't recover those memories for a very long time, nor was I aware of them when I got into the lifestyle. I do believe this was the start of my bondage fetish and interest in femdom.
On a side note, my love for the touch of fur is explained pretty easily. When I was an infant I would rub my face against bottom of the crib, playpen, carpet, etc. until the skin was raw. In order to combat this my mother would put certain things at the bottom that were soft and would reduce this. Included in these were a silk blanket, some rabbit fur pelts and the like. I have continued to enjoy the touch of these for the rest of my life but this is a lot less interesting a story than M.
To be continued.