There’s a picture on Pup’s phone from the first time he tied me up. I’m curled up on my bed, head resting against the mattress, face covered in my hair. I’ve got an oversized t-shirt and a pair of terrycloth shorts on. It was the first time he slept over. We didn’t have sex.

By the time he took the picture, I was worn out and we were winding down. He’d come over and I had shown him my toy bag. The thing has grown into a whole duffel of stuff, which is really quite a leap from the makeup bag it started as. 

He tied me down and put my blindfold on. He went through the bag: admiring the collar Sir made for me, discovering I can handle the clover clamps on my labia but not my nipples, then discovering I couldn’t handle either clamp I owned on my tongue, putting the bit-gag Sir made me in my mouth. He found my knockoff hitachi and pushed an orgasm or two out of me while my nipples were clamped and I was whining out a series of “oh fug oh fug"s through the bit-gag. 

He took off the blindfold and the clamps and retied me on the bed. I sucked his cock. We were still kind of learning each other. Sometimes he bit me a little too hard and I was still figuring out what he liked during a blowjob. Honestly, I liked that it wasn’t totally figured out yet.

When he asked to take the picture, I was worn out and about ready to go to sleep. He untied me, gave me some aftercare, and we went to bed. 

At a munch, he (with my permission) showed my friend the picture. She commented that it was different to see me that way; nice, even. She said, and her words still kind of stick with me, that she’d never seen me vulnerable that way.