The House of Bondage

Aunt Maruh was a very traditional person. Entering her house was like going back in time fifty years. She would frown if my sister spoke too loud, because “that’s not becoming of a lady”, and she would also keep an eye on me because “men are helplessly brute”. All you could do at her home was drinking tea, reading poetry aloud, and playing the piano. No one would have believed that her house would become “The House of Bondage”.

You can imagine how boring it was for my sister Magnolia and I to visit her house. We would hide from aunt Maruh, hoping never to be found. But it was her house and she knew every corner of it. So, sooner or later, she always ended up finding us and taking us to the living room, aka “the room of torture”.

Last year, when aunt Maruh died and we inherited the house, we were a little bit surprised. I mean, it didn’t surprise us that she gave us the house. After all, she didn’t have her own children, and she liked us more than she liked her sister. However, the clause that forbade us from selling the house for the first five years sounded like the last sentence to boredom she had given us.

That’s when we decided to turn the house into “The House of Bondage”. If it had been a quiet, ordered place, now it would be chaotic and kink. If it had been synonymous with boredom, now its very name would bring the idea of wild fun to our friends’ minds. 

The House of Bondage offers all kinds of rope games. Additionally, we have rooms for more intimate fun games, Kinbaku style. I don’t know if aunt Maruh would approve of these changes, but, so far, her ghost hasn’t come to torture us… or to join the fun.

This is our Shibari story.