Through the days: Jennifer
By atfirstdawn

*Mature content warning
(C) Keira Morrison/ atfirstdawn 2014-2015


It can be difficult to move through life with a fetish for bondage, particularly if you develop or realise the passion for it at a young age.
The opinions of others can often be unnecessarily negative towards the notion of such a personal and unique lifestyle and these prejudices can often make for a lonely and conflicted existence if, like me, you eventually find yourself on the wrong side of them.

Throughout my childhood I was suffocated with the intense desire to divulge my secret cravings to my friends and family in the hope that they would understand and accept it as an important part of my personality. But then again, another side of me; the wary and self-preserving side, was adamant that I should keep such unchecked, unguided and unsatisfied notions to myself for fear that I'd be shunned and or ridiculed.

In the end I decided to keep my insatiable fetish for bondage to myself; though this wasn't easy, and as I moved through the days, one by one, every now and again there'd be a trigger, something to incite and refuel the war within me...

***

Its 2003 and a handful of friends and I are on our way to town to watch X-Men 2 at the cinema, and why not, Jean Grey is hot, right? There are five of us in total; Ben and his girlfriend Jennifer, Philip and his girlfriend Kelly and myself, like the single gay lady that I am. We all live relatively close to each other, so the plan is to meet at the bus stop down the road from the local pub and all head into town together.

I'm first on the scene of course, I've always been punctual, sometimes to a fault and on a cold, damp and dark evening like this one I've definitely found fault with being early. Nevertheless, fifteen minutes later and Ben and Jennifer have turned up. After cycling through the usual courteous small-talk of asking how I am and how long I'd been waiting, Jennifer begins to recite the events which had almost caused them to cancel their night with Philip, Kelly and I.

Jennifer's story was almost the dictionary definition of sod's law; she had gone to wash her hair and broke the shower, she had been unable to find the dress that she had wanted to wear (which had forced her to rethink her entire choice of attire) and while frantically applying her make-up she had managed to make a mess of it and had had to start again.

She concluded with an apology for looking a mess, though she looked fine to me, she always did. Jennifer was perhaps the prettiest girl I knew at the time and I had always been wholly jealous of Ben's romantic relationship with her, her long black hair, her bright brown eyes, her thin but-not-too-thin lips, her long elegant fingers and her stunning hips... the very sight of her had often led me to wonder what my life would have been like had she been of homosexual orientation and warped mind like me.

"But this bastard," she continued, while pointing at Ben who was stood beside her "he wouldn't stop jer-mmphmmnn!"

Like a rabbit in headlights, my eyes widened, my body stiffened, my heart punched my chest and I stood paralysed for what seemed like an all too fleeting eternity. I suddenly wanted nothing else in life, all ambition, all thoughts for the future, tomorrow, the day after, next week, next month, next year, everything was suddenly blank and the only thing I wanted was to have this moment last forever. My skin was cold, yet I could feel an intense heat surging through my body. I had lost the ability to speak or react, to offer a quick quip or crack a smile, all I could do, all I wanted to do, was to stand and watch and burn the real-life image into my memory forever.  

The image of Ben's hand over Jennifer's gorgeous mouth and her eyes, wide in shock but smiling with laughter at his action, was one I never forgot and never will. I don't remember Ben taking his hand away from Jennifer's mouth, I don't recall waiting for or meeting up with Philip and Kelly, I don't remember much of the movie or even going to sleep that night.

What I do remember after witnessing such a perfect sight was the agony of the following day.

My mental recollection of Jennifer with her wide eyes and covered mouth was one that began to taunt and torture me. She hadn't been offended by Ben clamping his hand over her mouth, she'd taken it in her stride and laughed about it. She had accepted and paid no real mind to his action and had instead continued to try and talk from beneath his hand (which had been wonderfully torturous to hear)...
I could live with someone like that, did she like it? I could indulge her if she did. Perhaps she could even indulge me, maybe she'd like to, I'd certainly love her to repay me in kind with such an action. Could I ask her about it? Drop it into our next conversation, tell her she looked and sounded hot? But where would that go?

Ben's action had meant nothing to her and I knew it, it was nothing more than a playful gesture to halt a conversation. She wouldn't lie awake at night thinking about how it looked or how it may have felt for her like I did. It wouldn't become a defining moment in her life like it had done for me...

For months on end I became very uncomfortable around Jennifer; I couldn't help but indulge my thought processes and somewhat believe that that moment had meant as much to her as it had to me, I couldn't help but imagine that moment whenever I looked at her and I couldn't help but crave another moment just like it. I couldn't help but feel a rising anticipation whenever they stood side by side or whenever they spoke with others, and I couldn't help but feel a crippling sense self loathing every night, when I'd return alone to my bedroom in disappointment that it hadn't happened just once more.