There was a knock at my door last Saturday.  When I answered it there was a delivery man standing there holding a tightly wrapped box in one hand and an electronic clipboard in the other.  I found it odd that I would receive something this late after Christmas, and wondered what it could be.

"Are you David? I'll need to see your driver's license for proof of identity."

I asked him to step inside, but he remained on the porch while I hunted for my wallet.  My curiosity was now surging.

I found my ID, went back to the door, and gave it to him.  He examined it closely and then gave it back to me.  He handed me the clipboard and I quickly signed my name.  Moments later the box was in my hands and the delivery man was on his way.

I saw that my full name and address were on the outside paper, but there was no return address that I could find.  The handwriting looked vaguely familiar but I could not place it.  The box was tightly wrapped in twine and heavy packaging tape, so I went to get a pair of scissors. 

I returned and removed the twine and the paper, and sliced the box open along the top center edge so as not to damage the contents.  The first thing I saw was a small greeting card in an envelope.  I opened it first before digging into the box.  The card read:

"David, I'm sorry that we never contacted you, but we made a clean break with everyone when we left.  We were going through some keepsakes and came across these.  You should have them now.  I hope this finds you well and happy in life."

There was no signature, and I still had no idea who it was that sent the box.  I dug furiously through the packaging papers and at the bottom were three unmarked VHS cassette tapes that I immediately removed.  I can't remember the last time I owned a VHS player, and I wondered where I could procure one.  I thought it might be family related, but the handwriting was not my ex-wife's, and she would have signed her name anyway. 

I rummaged through the paper and even turned the box upside down to see if there was anything else that I had missed.  On the tracking slip in small print I was able to ascertain that the package came from Los Angeles.  Who the hell do I know from L.A.?  No, the only way I was going to figure this mystery out was to find a VHS player. 

I got in my car and drove to an electronics repair shop that I utilize from time to time for my musical equipment.  One of the guys that works there has come out to a few of my shows, so I was pretty sure if they had one a loan would be possible.  He greeted me at the counter, and then disappeared into a back room.  Sure enough, deep in storage was small unit that looked like it had been in there for years.  He brought it out and then plugged it in to make sure it worked.  He handed it to me and smiled.

"I'm sure it's filthy inside.  You'll probably need to blow it out and clean the heads first.  No charge, but bring it back when you're done."

When I got home I did exactly as he told me, and an hour later I had the thing clean and back in one piece.  I have an old style analog television in one of the guest bedrooms, and some coaxial cables in the garage, so it wasn't long after that I was ready to play the tapes.

I popped the first video and as the grainy images came to light, I had a strange sense of disconnect although I instantly knew what they were now.  There I was approximately twenty-four years younger chained to a St. Andrews cross naked with a blindfold on.  Memories now came flooding back to me.

I served a dominant married couple back in the late 80's and early 90's for the better part of three years. They told me that they had recorded videos, but never showed them to me, and at the time I never knew they were even taken because 95% of the time I was blindfolded.  I'm sure part of their motivation behind the recordings was entertainment, but they also used the tapes to provide a blackmail aspect to our relationship.  I made sure that I never did anything to displease them for fear that they might actually have something on me.

So I watched the first tape without interruption and I must say that I was amazed what was captured on that recording.  I'm not going to go into details, as my purpose of this blog entry isn't erotica.   However, I will say that it captured their dominance and my submission at its most primeval core.  The play was hard, fast, and intense. 

The second video was badly damaged, and for the most part unwatchable.  Pity.  I would have loved to have known its contents.

The third video was different from the first, and it didn't take long to figure out why.  In the first video the camera was stationary until either my Master or Mistress moved it to a different angle.  On the third video the camera is constantly moving into many various angles with lots of close-ups and bright lighting.  This indicates that there was a fourth person in the room that obviously I never knew about.  The content of the first video was primarily bondage and heavy discipline, while the third video was entirely me providing oral and receiving anal sex. I clearly remember every part of the third video because I was partially cross-dressed, but the first one could have been any one of several sessions that came to mind.

And so when I had finished with tape 3 I wondered what I should do.  Part of me wanted to smash them into a thousand pieces.  After all, there are images on those videos that would get me disowned by every family member I have.  I'm older and grayer now but if you watch the video you know it's me.  Yet there is a part of me that looks back on those times with incredible fondness, and yes besides that, the footage is downright hot if you're a D/s enthusiast.

So I decided to box them back up and keep them in a safe place. Obviously, I'm not going to say where, but I'm confident they will never see the light of day unless I want them to. 

I returned the VHS player, and thought about how nice it was of them to send me the tapes.  They're going to be on my mind a lot for a while.  I wonder what became of them and why all the secrecy after such a long time? 

Perhaps because they know if they ever contacted me, I'd want to catch the first flight to L.A.