OrangeJulius
Posts: 122
Joined: 5/24/2007
Status: offline
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Weirdly enough, this sort of thing has pretty much been happening forever. I've always been pretty submissive towards girls, and women, like teachers, cousins, aunts, etc. I guess the first time I ever really got "likable" pain was when me and my older sister were wrestling for fun when I was young, and she pushed me on the ground and elbowed me in the nose. I got a bloody nose, but I thought it was the coolest thing in the world. She was usually really nice to me, so that was a neat little change.
Anyways, the next thing I can remember is my first girlfriend, we never really did anything overtly sexual, but she was bigger than me by a considerable amount, and really enjoyed blindfolding me, tying me up, and whatnot. One fond memory I have of her is tying my hands in front of me and telling me to sit (with her behind me), holding me in her arms, and pressing an ether soaked pair of her panties to my face until I started to pass out. Now in retrospect, this was really stupid, and a bad idea all around. She talked about wanting to do it again, but with heroin, but that (luckily) never quite panned out.
Eventually, I joined my school's colourgaurd, which was pretty much entirely girls, so I got "teased" a lot by them, I'm sure it didn't help that I was so timid and had a weird habit of unintentionally squealing whenever they touched me or grabbed me, which happened a lot. Not to mention the fact that we wore these horrible spandex outfits, and the instructors "convieniently forgot" to buy me a dance belt. They called me "package man" for about a month after that. Weirdly exciting. We did quite well in competitions, if anyone wanted to know (you didn't)
Probably the last scene but not a scene type of "BDSM milestone" was when I got my wisdom teeth pulled. Strangely enough, it was probably the defining moment when I realized that I really, really liked this stuff. Strange how normal things like blood pressure cuffs and "bracelet" pulse monitors take on a sexual tone with the right person. The fact that the dental hygenist was smart, beautiful, young, and caring helped too. Anyways, on with the story! The first thing she said to me when I walked in the room was "take off your glasses, you won't need those where you're going". This was just one of the deliciously weird things that she would say to me before this whole experience was over. She had some some issues figuring out what my blood pressure was, probably owing to the fact that my heart was racing both from being alone in a closed room with a grown woman, and being in a pseudo-bondage situation. Once we got that figured out though, we made small talk about stuff, she asked me about colour guard, what I wanted to do after high school, probably to calm me down. It didn't work very well, and as the "moment of truth" began to near, my nervousness got more and more apparent. She eventually just came right out and asked me if I was scared, and of course, I told her the truth. She said something about "making it all better", and told me to just lean back in the chair and relax. I'm sure you can guess what happened next. On went the mask, and off went the fear, at least for a minute or two. She stepped out for a second, presumably to turn on the gas, and then came back in, closed the door, and just looked down at me and grinned, her pretty green eyes staring at me while I lied there giggling like a maniac. She laughed too, remarking that it was "what I like to see". I'm not really sure what happened after that though, because my vision slipped into some kind of white noise static looking crap and I started feeling something in between falling through the floor and nausea. I remember lolling my head to one side and trying to get her attention, but nothing came out of my mouth. I have no idea what she was doing during all of this, but after a few seconds of what I can only describe as "intro to death 101", she shook my arm and told me not to go to sleep "just yet". I think I mumbled some sort of acknowledgement, and she told me that she would turn down the gas "for her little lightweight over here". I guess she did, because I returned to a state where I could think, which she seemed strangely amused by when I mentioned it to her. Eventually, the good doctor came in, and asked me some inane questions about my age, commented on my shirt, and finally the hygenist jabbed the IV needle into my arm, repositioned my head, and made me bite down on some... thing. THE END.
So anyway, that's pretty much my life story. Somewhere in there I read Venus in Furs, fell in love with synthpop, and developed a stomach fetish. Good times.
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RE: Who was your first? - 
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