Even though my first ever bondage experience ended up with a trip to A&E, the allure of the world of kink took hold and that first day marked the start of many adventures that I’ve been privileged to enjoy. Here’s the first of ten chapters recalling my interactions with Ryan.
* * *
Ryan was technically the friend of my younger brother, being in his year group at school, but I’d often join in their games. Favourite among the activities that us as teenagers got up to, was spending time in the back garden on the trampoline. As a family we’d originally got an inflatable trampoline (if you can believe such a thing exists) that doubled up as a paddling pool on the partially hot British summer days. It was essentially a large inflatable doughnut about a meter tall that would be filled with water to paddle in, and when half emptied (to still keep it weighted down) a black thin mesh trampoline cover could be laced around the top with a thick black rope and it just about worked to bounce on. After seeing how much use we got out of the single-user trampoline, we finally encouraged our parents to buy a second hand trampoline, and it was a big one. Though our family never had much money, we promised to use the trampoline lots if our parents spend the £60 on it, and we definitely did.
My brother, Ryan and I would spend evening after evening on the trampoline, coming up with all sorts of games and ways to let out all that teenage energy. Ryan would often catch up with one of us on the way home from school, and our parents were gracious enough hosts to feed us all tea and let us keep playing into the night. It was our strict bed times that meant that my brother would be called in for bed, before my bed time and before Ryan had to leave for his own parents had given him a more relaxed curfew. This meant, that after my brother’s reluctant pleading with our parents to stay out longer, me and Ryan would be left alone, in the dark, on the trampoline to play for a little longer each night.
Ryan was cute. He had short black hair, big ears, braces and a goofy grin. He was one of the lucky kids who has what I refer to as a ‘skinny pack’, a six pack that you get from not even trying. Often he’d come over to ours wearing his school uniform, a white shirt with the collar undone and the tie removed the second he was out the school gate, along with the black trousers. But if he’d been home first to change, as he had done this time, then he’d be in a t-shirt and joggers.
On nights when it was dark outside, and the lights were on inside the home, we knew no one could see what we were up to as they could only see their own reflections in the glass. We had plenty of warning, usually, to see them approaching the glass back door, before it was opened and they’d squint out to see what we were up to and finally call us into bed. We were aware of this, and I believe we both were keeping certain activities that we’d thought up at earlier points in the evenings, either when it was light or when my brother was around, to try when it was just the two of us and under the cover of darkness.
One dark night when it was just me and Ryan, as soon as my brother went in, the style of the games changed. We’d previously been playing with the old small trampoline mesh on top of the actual trampoline, pulling it out from one another to make them fall over as the two meshes against each other were very slippery. But now we were alone, a new game began,
“Sit in the middle of it.” I suggested, standing on the trampoline beside the smaller mesh and offering Ryan my hand for him to sit down in the middle of the smaller mesh. I pulled up around the outside of the mesh encasing Ryan in a makeshift sack. Holding the top closed as best I can, I jumped a little to bounce Ryan around, curled up in his little ball. Childish giggling ensued as he was helpless to prevent the situation, until I lost my grip on the mesh and he sprawled out onto the trampoline. After a moment, Ryan jumped off the trampoline and grabbed the black rope that was there, which for no particular reason was still kept with the mesh when they were stored away each night. It was the same rope that was used to lace the old mesh onto the inflatable base (that was long since broken and thrown away).
“Can you tie it shut?” Ryan asked throwing me the rope. I bounced down to sit on the trampoline and pulled the mesh and rope towards me and started threading the rope around the tabs at the edge of the mesh, so when pulled it could close up the mesh like a big drawstring bag. Ryan also picked up the duvet that we had out in the garden to play with tonight and climbed back onto the trampoline with it. We often played with the duvet and mesh for various games, and on cold nights would stay out longer under or wrapped up in the duvet together. Ryan plopped himself down right next to me and pulled the duvet over both of us, so just our heads and arms were outside, as I still worked to thread the rope around the mesh. He watched me work in silence, our bodies pushed together as our weight on the trampoline meant we couldn’t help but slide together.
“Okay. Give that a go.” I said, and Ryan pushed the duvet aside and balled himself up in the middle of the mesh. I carefully pulled the rope up with one hand, holding Ryan down with other hand and the mesh began to close around him. I continued to pull the rope and the mesh closed up completely so I could only just pull my hand out the hole. It was the perfect size. Fully tightened he couldn’t uncurl himself at all, and the hole left was just smaller than his head. I tied a good few knots into the rope so it wouldn’t come undone. Then I began to bounce. We giggled away as he was bounced around helplessly, unable to do anything to change his predicament. Some bounces seemed more painful than others, and as Ryan’s face or side was smooshed into the trampoline he’d grunt and then be giggling in the air even before the next bounce.
I took to kicking him around a little too, first when he was in the air, a light kick mid-jump, then after a long time of bouncing around I’d push and kick him around the trampoline a bit. It was hilarious fun. Next, I wrapped the duvet around the outside of his mesh prison and bounced around some more, but the duvet wouldn’t stay in place and Ryan’s balled up prison would go flying off and Ryan would be unprotected from the main trampoline bouncing him around again. As was usual, we played and giggled around for a long while, until we were worn out and slumped down to relax on the trampoline and recoup our energy. Once we’d caught our breath back and laid for a few moments more,
“Can you put the duvet on the inside?” Ryan asked, still locked inside his black ball.
“Uh yeah.” I replied “You won’t be able to breath though.” And I started to untie the mesh ball. This obviously wasn’t true, Ryan would still be able to breath if wrapped in the duvet first, but I was pointing out it would get warm and claustrophobic, not that it seemed to give either of us any reason to even hesitate trying it. The knots were pretty difficult to undo, as his whole body had been pulling against the ropes constantly while bouncing around, and I’d not got the experience to know any other knots than the very basics. The black rope was around 2cm thick and had quite a rough feel to it, probably from living outside for months on end. It did take a while, but soon Ryan was freed from his ball. We laid the duvet out onto the middle of the trampoline and without any discussion or need for encouragement, Ryan balled himself up in the middle of it. I folded the top over him, then the bottom, then the sides. I then moved the mesh to the side of him and rolled the ball of duvet over the mesh, so the seams of the duvet would be at the opposite side of the ball to where the mesh was pulled and tied together. No escape. Carefully I again pulled the rope threaded around the mesh to close it up into a ball around Ryan and the duvet. The hole left by the opening of mesh didn’t close quite as much as before, but no matter, as all that was left was a dinner plate size of smooth duvet underneath, and the folds of the duvet were the opposite side. I smiled to myself and pulled the rope tighter still, so Ryan would’t have a millimetre to wiggle in. While tying the knots in the top, being careful not to release any of the tension, I thought about how it’d be feeling for Ryan right now. The duvet would be compressing in on him, filling all the gaps within his cocoon, and his own breath would be heating up the inside of the ball. There was the familiar tension in the front my my trousers that always arose with this kind of game, but I continued on innocently. Ryan’s cocoon was complete.
“You good?” I asked, and got back a muffled tone of assent. So I began to bounce. With bounds of teenage energy I leapt around the trampoline, causing the stuffed ball to bounce around after me. Wrapped as it was, the duvet seemed to cushion the impact and so he didn’t quite bounce as high as before, but this just drove me to bounce particularly hard right next to the helpless, balled up boy, and let the trampoline bounce him higher and higher. Ryan wasn’t really giggling, but making muffled exclamations at particularly big bounces. On and on I continued, bouncing Ryan around the trampoline, at one point bouncing so close to him that my toes were under the ball, and as he bounced up I’d push the ball back down with my hands and repeat, like a giant human basket ball. When I’d bounced away all my energy I flopped down over the ball, giving it a big hug. I could feel the heat of the ball and Ryan’s fast breathing, much faster than mine. I turned my attention to the knots, and after a few moments was pulling the rope out of the tabs around the mesh so it fell flat. I pushed the balled up duvet and Ryan rolled over, spread out on top of the duvet as it uncurled around him. He was dripping in sweat, lying on his back panting with his eyes closed and mouth open, smiling. Steam was rising from his body into the cooling air of the night. I jumped down right on top of him and he grunted but didn’t move as the trampoline bounced us gently into the middle.
“Fun?” I asked, and Ryan just nodded, still panting as I lay on top of him, both of us on top of the duvet. We lay there together for a while, Ryan’s damp t-shirt sticking to his hot body, his eyes still closed. I looked him up and down, over and over again, marvelling at the fun of this new style of game, how we both seemed to know what we wanted without saying and wondering what to do with him next. Without a word, I picked up the rope, now unthreaded from the mesh, and in one move rolled Ryan onto his front, kneeling over his lower back, straddling his thin body. I pulled his arms out from beside him and crossed them in the small of his back. I took the rope and wrapped it three times around his wrists from top to bottom, then three times around from left to right making a cross. Ryan didn’t move or speak as I worked, he just lay there, as before, breathing heavily, with his face pushed into the duvet so I couldn’t tell if his eyes were still closed or not. I tied the knot off and still had lots of rope, so ran it around the whole knot between his two arms, essentially clinching the original knot together. As a novice who’d only ever tied myself up before now, the technique came naturally to me and I have to say I was rather proud of my work. Another stopper knot and he wasn’t going to be getting out of that in a hurry. I lifted up slightly, and rolled Ryan over underneath me, so I was now kneeling over his crotch. He looked up at me, smiling, his thin arms pulled around behind his back. I couldn’t help myself but give him a few friendly slaps on his cheek to which he briefly flinched, but gave no other reaction, as he couldn’t help but grin sheepishly up at me. I put my hand on his chest and pushed myself up and began to bounce with him in-between my legs. That didn’t go so well for me, as unable to control his bounce while laying down, his shoulder caught me in my crotch and I fell back onto the trampoline. Ryan’s legs now being free he was able to stand up and took advantage to jump around me while I was down, bouncing me around the trampoline for a bit of revenge. After a moment I kicked out and knocked Ryan to the ground, and with his arms so securely tied behind his back it wasn’t hard for me to maintain my dominance from then on. I’d bounce around Ryan while he was down and the trampoline would fire him across to the other side, and whenever he tried to get up, unable to use his hands, I’d be able to kick out one of his legs and send him right back down again. It was great fun.
Usually the springs and metal rim around the edge of the trampoline was covered with a foam padded ring, but with all the rough and tumble and the age of the trampoline, part of that padded ring wasn’t where it should be, and part of the frame was uncovered. All it took was one kick as Ryan tried to stand to send him falling backwards, and without his arms free to spin or catch himself, the back of Ryan’s head hit the metal rim of the trampoline. The sound of his head hitting the metal made a scary clank, and Ryan let out a grunt, screwing up his face in pain. Unable to move his arms up to protect his head, Ryan seemed to contract in on himself, tensing his muscles and grunting in pain. In panic, I leapt off the trampoline and stood by the edge, not sure what to do as he was curled up on the springs at the edge.
“You okay?” I asked concerned.
“My head.” he winced back, rolling a little from side to side. It was too dark to see anything much. The light from the windows of the house were enough to see shapes and bounce around, but looking into Ryan’s short black hair I couldn’t see anything. I held my hand to his head and as I pulled it away again I could see the colour difference on my hand. Dark liquid covered part of my hand.
“You’re bleeding.” I stated, not sure what else to do, my breathing quickening. “I’ll untie you.” I pushed Ryan forward slightly to reveal his arms, and fumbled with the knot binding his wrists together. I was breathing fast, my brain screaming at me to go and get help, but to also hide the fact that Ryan was tied up. The first knot came undone, and soon I unwrapped the clinch. Ryan groaned and tugged at his arms but the original knot was still holding his arms tight. Again I fumbled with this knot, and frantically worked at it till it came loose and I was able to unwind his arms. As soon as he arms were free, his hands went up to the back of his head, and then came back around to see and confirm that he was indeed bleeding. There was enough blood to make us panic, but it wasn’t gushing everywhere. Ryan swung around, landed on the ground and made his way into the house as I followed.
“Mum!” I called, dazzled by the bright white lights in the kitchen. “Mum, Ryan’s hurt!” I called again and instantly she was there.
“Let me see.” my mum said, coming over and parting Ryan’s hands. My stomach lurched as I saw Ryan’s wrists. As he lowered them to his sides, I could see each wrist imprinted with clear marks where the ropes had just been. Mum hadn’t seemed to notice, as see squinted at the back of Ryan’s head. “Oh, I see you’ve got a small cut on the back of your head.” She turned to the counter and came back folding a wad of kitchen roll and held it onto Ryan’s head. “Here. Hold that there. I’ll call your mum.” And she left the kitchen to call from the land line in the lounge.
“You’ve got rope marks,” I pointed out, my heart beating hard, “on your wrists.” Ryan lowered one arm to look, then pointed to the floor by the back door,
“Get my jacket.” Ryan said, and instantly I obeyed. He slipped it on and I held to kitchen roll to his head as he did so. He resumed holding the roll himself and I stepped back, and just stood there, both of us looking a bit concerned. It reassured me somewhat that Ryan had been quick to cover up the rope marks, and that hopefully we might just get away with this.
“You okay?” I asked, and he nodded. My mum came back in and fussed around Ryan for a bit, washing his hands and getting a new wad of kitchen roll for his head. Ryan lived on the same road, so his mum came by to collect him within minutes. I stood at the door with my mum as we explained how he’d ‘just hit his head falling backwards on the trampoline’, and with good grace and both our mother’s eye rolls as if to say ‘teenagers will be teenagers’, Ryan was driven off towards the hospital by his mum.
After washing my own hands, I went out into the back garden to clear away the mesh, duvet and rope. As I stowed the rope carefully on a shelf in the play shed, I smiled to myself, hoping that despite how tonight had ended, Ryan would be up for using that rope again soon. Ryan text me later than evening,
“They legit used glue on my head to put it back lol let’s do that again. Tomorrow? Night”
