When I went in search of a Dom man to lead me through this clouded maze of need and desire, I thought he'd be a man experienced in the art of spanking, Domination and control. I never dreamed he would have access to an adequately equipped 'dungeon'. This is the first word that clattered in my brain. DUNGEON! I screamed silently inside my head. Is he for real? Oh yes! most decidedly, though I never heard that word again. It was the dark room which I kind of liked because it was both dimly lit and dark things to sate dark desires lived there. After my very first visit to the room I began to call it the quiet room. It is exceptionally quiet. No sounds come in..and I expect the reverse might be true.
I am new to this. Oh I have been thinking and playing online, exploring in cyber and dabbling with non-Dom for a while. I didn't have the courage though (or the permission from non-Dom) to step forward into the light and follow the darkness inside. So given the opportunity to bend to the will of Local D, I am learning. I am accepting. I am trying hard to be that good girl we all seek to be, but there are some things I am sooky about (some might be an understatement).
I have to say...I hate the 20! (explanation to follow). I am not fond (really not fond) of the nipple clamps. Someone wrote once to me to avoid clover clamps at all costs, to start with something less daunting. All well and good until one comes across a man with clover clamps hanging from his belt and who is not in the least afraid to use them. I have discovered a fear of the crop, well the handle of the crop really not the little soft leather end that drags across hot pink skin and soothes the sting. Anyway you get my drift. I am experiencing so much paraphernalia my mind and senses are exploding.
I might hate all these things and be a bit sooky about them but I note an undeniable attraction to them, a need for them to caress ansd sting my flesh. Here's where my sick little bitch comes out to play. I'm not sure if I want him to hurt me, to cause pain because I am not aware that I particularly like the hurt and pain. It's something I endure. It delights him to see me squirm. It even delights him to hear me lose control and call him a 'cruel bastard' as he removes the nipple clamps or rips a row of particularly grippy pegs away from the flesh biting on my breasts. (oh yes I never thought I would be doing the pegs!). It delights him too to sooth the hurt afterward.
So the sooky girl feels her sook often (I never said I was good at this sub stuff, in fact I struggle with it and wonder if I really am submissive in one way or another almost daily).
In the quiet room when the flogger hits and it hurts there is laughter. As it goes further I am quieted. 'Stick you bottom out' he says as I curl it under, involuntarily hiding his target from the kiss of the flogger. The bottom complies. I quiet even more. Then I am aware there is no sound, a small moan or whimper as the flogger gets harder. I am aware that I only feel the hard connection. I know it is hard because my whole body is moved forward by the thump of the flogger on my arse. My mind is thinking but my mouth and my body go quiet. I love this feeling.
I am new to this. Oh I have been thinking and playing online, exploring in cyber and dabbling with non-Dom for a while. I didn't have the courage though (or the permission from non-Dom) to step forward into the light and follow the darkness inside. So given the opportunity to bend to the will of Local D, I am learning. I am accepting. I am trying hard to be that good girl we all seek to be, but there are some things I am sooky about (some might be an understatement).
I have to say...I hate the 20! (explanation to follow). I am not fond (really not fond) of the nipple clamps. Someone wrote once to me to avoid clover clamps at all costs, to start with something less daunting. All well and good until one comes across a man with clover clamps hanging from his belt and who is not in the least afraid to use them. I have discovered a fear of the crop, well the handle of the crop really not the little soft leather end that drags across hot pink skin and soothes the sting. Anyway you get my drift. I am experiencing so much paraphernalia my mind and senses are exploding.
I might hate all these things and be a bit sooky about them but I note an undeniable attraction to them, a need for them to caress ansd sting my flesh. Here's where my sick little bitch comes out to play. I'm not sure if I want him to hurt me, to cause pain because I am not aware that I particularly like the hurt and pain. It's something I endure. It delights him to see me squirm. It even delights him to hear me lose control and call him a 'cruel bastard' as he removes the nipple clamps or rips a row of particularly grippy pegs away from the flesh biting on my breasts. (oh yes I never thought I would be doing the pegs!). It delights him too to sooth the hurt afterward.
So the sooky girl feels her sook often (I never said I was good at this sub stuff, in fact I struggle with it and wonder if I really am submissive in one way or another almost daily).
In the quiet room when the flogger hits and it hurts there is laughter. As it goes further I am quieted. 'Stick you bottom out' he says as I curl it under, involuntarily hiding his target from the kiss of the flogger. The bottom complies. I quiet even more. Then I am aware there is no sound, a small moan or whimper as the flogger gets harder. I am aware that I only feel the hard connection. I know it is hard because my whole body is moved forward by the thump of the flogger on my arse. My mind is thinking but my mouth and my body go quiet. I love this feeling.
Then later...
'I am going to give you 20 and you will count. If you miss one we will start again.'
I hate the 20. It's hard to get to the end. I am a little distressed by the end. The flogger has been going for so long before the 20 and I have been OK, but when I have to count the final 20 it is hard to get to the end without tears. It seems that by counting I am brought back from that place where I am not really feeling the stroke anymore..certainly not in a stingy way, but only in a thump.
I hate the 20. It's hard to get to the end. I am a little distressed by the end. The flogger has been going for so long before the 20 and I have been OK, but when I have to count the final 20 it is hard to get to the end without tears. It seems that by counting I am brought back from that place where I am not really feeling the stroke anymore..certainly not in a stingy way, but only in a thump.
I don't think I like the 20 at all...
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| Bela Borsodiskin - flicker 11 |
