The breaking point came on the day when we were picking out clothes for our wedding. We went to David’s Bridal on the day of a big sale, and found a dress that made me feel like a movie star, strapless and perfectly fitted to highlight my curves. Then we went to the formalwear store to pick out tuxedos for him and his groomsmen. When the salesperson mentioned that the groomsmen could wear their jackets either buttoned or unbuttoned, depending on what the groom wanted or their personal preference, he smiled and said “I want to get to tell them what to wear,” I couldn’t help but giggle a little. I was sure his dominant personality was coming out… until that night when I tried on my dress to take some pictures for my family back home, and put on my favorite corset (the one in my avatar) under it. I got him to help lace me into it, which of course got me all excited. After I took off the dress, I laid down on the bed in the corset, hoping he’d be aroused by the sight. Instead he told me, “why don’t you change into one of your nighties? That just can’t be comfortable.”

I knew that he was being kind, but I felt hurt and stunned. With his take-charge personality and gentle bedroom manners, it felt like he wanted to dominate everyone… except me. ☹ Was I too emotional? Too young? Or as I feared, just too thin? I’d lost some weight recently and was even more concerned than usual about seeming fragile. I couldn’t help it; I broke down and sobbed until I was having a genuine panic attack. He held me until I was feeling composed enough to talk, and I confessed to him that I had been reading bondage websites and had decided that I wanted to go further in that direction.

His reaction wasn’t the best I could have hoped for, but it wasn’t the worst. He wanted to make me happy. He didn’t think I was weird or a poser. However, as a victim of childhood abuse (something I did already know), he wasn’t comfortable being in a situation that would make him feel like an abuser. He told me kindly and honestly that he could spank me and tease me, but he could never truly take away my control. I was ok with that; but the conversation did leave some ragged edges. We ended up having a couple of fights over the phone, and for the next couple of months the situation between us was basically static. I didn’t know how to reconcile the fact that I loved him and couldn’t bear to think of him suffering any more from his painful past, with the need I had to be dominated. I don’t think he knew what to do, either.

When we saw each other that summer, we ended up doing a lot of lying in bed talking. I tried to explain my desires, and he finally gave me some straight answers about his. It turned out that his love of breasts was more than just a preference, it was a fetish that I’d never heard of – he enjoyed reading and writing stories about women’s breasts growing, usually by some kind of unnatural means. He has a talent for explaining things in erotic ways, and he made me see the appeal in it – the idea of someone wanting more for herself, more power, more pleasure. He was also aroused by a process which I was going through at that time; the process of building muscle. I had started working out because I wanted more energy for dancing, but I had quickly become enchanted with the feeling of my body growing stronger and more powerful. I felt a sense of control that was new and exhilarating. While I was unsure how to feel about the breast fetish, which felt like something I couldn’t really do anything about, I loved that the joy I found in light body-building was a turn-on for him, too. And in spite of my insecurities, I found myself sitting up at night trying to think of a way to make his other fantasies come true, as well.