I remember hanging down the fireman’s pole on the playground. With my crotch pressed against the metal, I pulled myself up and down. I didn’t want the butterflies to stop.
I remember lying spread eagle on the trampoline, my heart racing. Her body leaning over me, tightly tying the skipping rope around my wrists and ankles. I was the princess that needed to be saved, but I didn’t want to be rescued.
I remember circling around a group of boys and throwing snowballs at them. They chased me until they caught me by the collar, slipping a ball of ice inside. I went back to provoke them every time.
I remember seeing Jack Sparrow hanging upside down tied to a stick and being carried around like meat. I remember wishing that was me.
I remember quietly closing my bedroom door and grabbing my trainers. I pulled out the shoelaces and started tying my hands together.
I remember blindfolding my boyfriend with a scarf and tying him to my bed with skipping rope. I pulled up his shirt and started tickling him for ten minutes straight until it was my turn to be at his mercy.
I remember wrestling on the bed with two of my childhood friends. Two against one, they pinned me down by the arms and sat on top of me.
I remember turning on the TV in my bedroom at night because I couldn’t sleep. A blonde woman in a sex store appeared and about 15 minutes later she got ‘kidnapped’ in front of her camera crew. Blindfolded and handcuffed she was brought to a deserted house where her boyfriend was waiting for her. The show explored ways in which to spice up your sex life.
I remember playing cops and robbers and a painful squeeze in my neck when the cops caught me and took me to their ‘prison’.
I remember playing with my Barbie dolls and imagining being trapped as a slave in a dungeon. I couldn’t stop the tears and a crushing feeling when I realised I was too young to be involved in anything kinky.
I remember seeing a man on TV restricting a customer’s breathing by pinching his nose and holding his palm over the customer’s mouth. As the man gasped for air, I felt a tingling desire in my stomach.
I remember a group of 6-year olds swarming around three of us 10-year olds. They ran at us with warrior cries and buried us underneath their little bodies. They pulled at my hair and nails scratched my skin.
I remember playing out on the street. The latest game was to tie someone up and timing how long it took for them to get out. The blonde boy always volunteered, happily jumping up and down until we tied him up. Does he know he is a submissive? I thought, stepping back into the shadows to hide my own secret.