VOYAGE INTO WORLD The pleasure came through in waves
IT wasn’t long before I visited my first S&M dungeon...and I was terrified!
The adrenaline was making my hands shake. What the f** was I doing? Was this what I wanted?
A brunette dressed in a skin-tight rubber dress and a pair of painfully high black heels was leading a man around the room on his knees by a leash.
Every one of the 30-strong crowd crammed inside the dimly-lit room was dressed in some manner of fetish gear.
They all seemed like they knew each other. Apart from Karina – who was holding the end of a dog leash she had attached to the collar around my neck – I didn’t know anyone.
Even if things went well, there was a lot of pain coming my way. But something was making me stay.
Ever since my earliest sexual experiences, I had always enjoyed the powerlessness of being with someone who could take control.I liked being reduced to a sexual plaything.
I aimed to please. I lifted my chin, took another giant gulp from my drink and steeled myself as best I could.
The room’s centrepiece was a black, leather-clad table, the top of which had been cut roughly into the shape of a person. It too had leather cuffs attached.
My turn came when the brunette mistress walked up to Karina and asked if she could borrow me.
“She’s all yours,” said Karina, handing over my leash.
I lay face down and closed my eyes. I felt almost ill with terror and excitement as the mistress and her man fastened the cuffs tightly around my ankles and wrists.
I could hear their metal rings jangling slightly as my hands shook.
One second I felt I was in over my head, the next I was revelling in the exhilaration of submisssion. Fixed to the table with a circle of spectators jostling for a better look, I felt a sudden crack across my backside as the whip came down.
It stung sharply, causing me to catch my breath. If I thought he was going to take it easy on me because I was new, I was mistaken.
But as the shock of the first blow faded, it was replaced by a warm, pleasant sensation that spread from where he hit me up through my stomach and out to my bound limbs. In the fog of adrenaline and alcohol, a pleasurable undertone was coming through in ever stronger waves.
He hitched up my skirt so he could whip bare skin, and the blows kept coming. I bit down. I endured.
While I was being whipped, his partner took me by the hair and tilted my head back. She slapped me gently on the face, before smiling and letting my head drop back on the table.
At one point, the guy had removed my underwear and was roughly pushing two fingers inside me. The dominatrix meanwhile, who had taken the whip from him, was lashing me unmercifully while spitting insults through those bright-red lips, telling me what a filthy whore I was.
But rather than hurting me, all the abuse and the insults and the whipping were rolling over me in waves of spine-jangling pleasure.
How can I ever go back to a normal life after this? But if there is a line, I had probably crossed it long before that night.”
MAKE the postman think you’ve had a
nosebleed by opening the door with tomato ketchup smeared on your lip.