This story begins when I was about 8 years old and my younger brother was about 4.

We had gotten a camping spot that was about 100 yards from a cliff that dropped to a river probably 30 feet below.

My brother, being four, was always wandering around the camp site, getting perilously close to the cliff's edge, much to my mother's horror and proof of her lightning fast reflexes.

The scolding and spanking didn't seem to faze my brother. He'd cry, then go wandering around again -- near the cliff.

My mother had enough and told my dad to deal with it.

Dad had a much shorter temper and tolerance for my brother's antics. He took down one of the wind/rain tarps, untied the hanging rope from one tree and tied it around my brother's waist.

My brother was screaming and I was mortified. For a few minutes.

I sat with him and played matchbox cars with him.

A few minutes in to playing, I discovered that if I put the cars >this far away< he couldn't reach them. Muahah!

He started crying again (man, he seemed to do that a lot when we went camping!) and reaching out grasping for the cars in my hands and just out of his reach.

I ran to one side. He followed. I ran behind him, he followed me, around the tree.

He had run around the tree enough to completely wind himself and the rope around it. And he couldn't figure out how to undo what he'd done.

My mother was both pissed at me and laughing hysterically at my brother's predicament.

Fast forward about 4 years. I'm 12 years old, the family has "upgraded" to a truck camper.

In the off season, I would often play in the camper - it became home base, a fortress, whatever my 12 year old mind could dream up.

The door on the camper had a plug and stopper type mechanism to keep it open. Best way I can describe it to my fellow kinksters: imagine a butt plug attached to the door and to keep the door open you pushed it in your ass.

Oh, come on..someone had to know I was going to go there.

Anyway, the thing never worked, so my dad made a double-noose door holder. One end of the rope over the door knob, the other over the camperjack.

Quite an ingenious creation to my 12 year old mind.

When my folks had errands to run, but didn't want to take me and my brother along, they'd have the neighbor girl ("Lori") on the other side of the fence come over and watch us.

She was 17 and I had a complete and total crush on her.

One of those days came along and I happened to be playing in the camper.

Lori came out to the camper to see what I was up to.

As I'd just gotten the camper door open, I hadnt put the open end of the double-noose on the camper jack yet.

"How you doing? What you been up to?", Lori asked me as she sat in the open doorway of the camper.

That was enough to turn my preteen crush mind in to wobbly jello.

I was a mumbling, bumbling idiot.

I was fidgeting with the rope in my hands, trying to form a coherent sentence.

Finally I managed to say, "Oh you know. Stuff." while closing and opening the free end of the noose, sticking my hand through it, tightening the loop, loosening the loop.

Now, this next part is quite fuzzy thanks to preteen raging hormones and a difficult time staying completely focused on anything but her.

At some point, I had managed to take that open end, slip it around Lori's wrists and she was now tied to the camper door.

I don't remember her saying no. I don't remember her helping. I don't remember her resisting.

I just remember after it was all done, there she was, my first bound captive.