I added this feature image because I deliberately put a small pic of my bruises at the end of this post but it seems WordPress likes to make it a feature image, which I didn’t want. Don’t scroll down to the very bottom if you don’t want to see the bruise picture. I’ve offended some people, it seems. Again.
[Part One | Part Two]
I watched the woman writhe and moan under the Dom’s ministrations. It was startling to watch what he was doing, but I could tell he was very skilled. Soon afterwards they were finished, he helped her down off the cross (words I can’t say I ever thought I would write), people applauded, and off she went.
He came over to me. We laughed about meeting at the gangbang night without even realizing. We chatted as if I wasn’t standing in from of him almost naked and he didn’t have a whip in his hand. I asked him about his Prince Albert piercing…I’m admittedly, a little curious.
Then he asked me if I wanted to get on the cross. I must have looked terrified so he walked me over to the big bag he had on an ottoman and showed me a few things.
Knowing about my bad experience with the Dom at the gangbang night, he explained that in these situations, it’s the Sub that has all the power. He told me he would start slow and gentle and be constantly checking in with me to see how I was doing. He told me I could use three words – Yellow to say I was reaching my limit, Red to say I was at my limit, and a third word (unique to people from my area) which means stop immediately.
Nobody has ever had to use that word with him.
I explained to him I’d only ever experienced pain like spanking during sex and I wasn’t sure how I was going to be in the absence of the physical pleasure that accompanies sex. He said he could be more “hands on” depending on my level of comfort and his interest. I said – shyly, ironically – I didn’t mind if he touched me as well.
The only pressure I felt was in my own head. This was what Andrew suggested I might enjoy, way back in November. This was one of the reasons I joined Fetlife. And this man I knew was a real Dom who could be trusted.
Up I went. He showed me how to put my hands through the cuffs at the top and where to hold on so I was more comfortable. He told me to spread my legs.
There were probably about 30 people, maybe more, watching me at this point. I still had on my lace panties. I looked to my left and saw Jason sitting on a nearby couch with his arm around W, smiling at me.
The Dom always showed me what he was going to use, before he started. I often joked with him because some things looked really fucking scary.
Floggers. A wratenburg wheel. A dull knife (yes, really. He started with that one saying “do you trust me?” and I retorted “I wouldn’t be up here if I didn’t!”). A crop. A whip. Feathers. Goodness knows what else. He showed me but I have no idea what the names are of the tools.
He started soft, then removed my panties (“here, let me help you out of these”). Asked me to rank my pain on a scale from 1-10. He got harder. It felt good. I wasn’t going to cum from it but I still enjoyed it.
A few minutes after starting, he says “ah, Ann, do you bruise easily?”
I said “have you seen my complexion?” And then said I was supposed to be seeing an ex boyfriend the next day so perhaps he could keep the bruising to a minimum. He told me afterwards he didn’t think my bruising would be that bad. Live and learn.
At one point, a guy came up to me on the other side and said “when you are done I want to eat you out”. I had to say “sorry, WHAT?” and he repeated himself and instead of laughing hysterically I said “um, maybe…I just need to finish getting beaten”.
Fully down the rabbit hole was I.
The Dom came around to my front and put my nipple in his mouth. I was hyper sensitive and he knew it. It felt very good. He used the wheel on me at the same time and boy, did I like that sensation.
You know when a Dom says “this is going to sting”, he means it. The only things I really disliked were the crop and the whip. He didn’t do much of it but wanted to give them a chance, I suppose.
After the whip, I felt his hand between my legs. He quickly and expertly made me cum and squirt. Now I was cumming, loudly, naked, surrounded by an audience of strangers. He did that over and over.
Then he helped me down, wrapped me in a towel, made sure I was okay, and handed me over to Jason. I introduced them. I was fine. I wasn’t in pain.
Jason offered that I could stay but I had no interest being alone. We went back to the changerooms where the cute staffer gave me her number and told me to call her.
I was fine that night but completely shocked when I looked at my ass. I had no idea I would be that marked. It generally has not hurt at all, and the bruises are still there but fading, 9 days later.
The Dom has checked in with me every single day since then. He has offered to play again any time I want that he’s at a club. He knows about after care and I would trust him to do it again. Not sure I will, but I might if the opportunity arises.
I was relieved at some level I didn’t see Tony that weekend, because I wasn’t keen on explaining what I’d been up to that Friday night. But someone did see my ass the next day, and he added his own marks to it. I will get to that post next.
And for those of you who have asked, here’s what the marks looked like: