As always, i was extra-nervous about the idea of going to a house party. But i had had some online interactions with the host and a few people that i know/trust had nothing but good things to say about him. So i felt pretty safe to attend...that everything would be above-board and there wouldn't be any crazy surprises once i arrived.

Upon entering, there was no way to mistake that i was in the right place! Even without the presence of fetish clothing and rolling suitcases (we had been instructed to dress casual/vanilla and keep the "whips and chains" at home), the odd assortment of eclectic people and the palpable tension made it obvious that i had arrived to my destination.

Slowly more & more people filtered in as introductions, small talk, and trips to the potluck buffet were made. Within the first hour, the host called everyone in for a brief overview of the rules/expectations, as well as an introduction circle.

i love how he framed it as, "A house party where spanking sometimes happens." We were encouraged to socialize, relax, and if the spirit moved, to spank. i also especially liked how he made a point to mention that it wasn't a contest of strength or masochism, and that a casual, "getting to know you" spanking was totally appropriate, especially given how a lot of us didn't know each other or had never played with each other.

After the introduction circle, an ice breaker game was announced: Jenga! Of course, it was a Kinky Version, because why wouldn't it be?

On each wooden piece, a spank-centric action was written. "Spank the person to your left." "Receive three swats with a paddle." etc. Even though it was made clear that you could decline the action (or nominate a proxy), it seemed like a bit too much for me to handle at the moment so i bowed out of playing.

As the game got underway, i perused the potluck fare and found the patio---this place is in one of those old neighborhoods of LA, built on a hill and with a great view. i made the rounds and tried to introduce myself to everyone in attendance.

You know that "spam" or "filtered" inbox in your vanilla social media accounts? Yeah, i didn't either. Well, i was aware of it, but i haven't been in the habit of checking it very often---with long stretches of time where i'll even forget that it is there.

But recently i went through it and found a truly heartbreaking string of messages from a woman, sent to me over the course of summer 2020 all the way through til mid 2022. Unfortunately, at this point i can't message her back or even see her name...maybe she blocked me at some point, or was messaging me from a since-abandoned sock account.

In these heart-wrenching messages was a tale as old as time: Her boyfriend is giving her reasons to not fully trust him, and it tears her up to see him leaving comments on/giving attention to other women.

A problem old as time...even though the public nature of social media could make it so much worse for a woman in this position.

If i could message her, there's so much that i would want to tell her:

No, i never had feelings for him, and we NEVER had any sort of relationship beyond a platonic, casual friendship based on nothing more than our shared love of some very niche/obscure musical genres. Since i worked at the record stores as a music buyer, he would contact me with his special requests for new releases. A few times over the years we went to music events together as platonic friends.

i am SO SORRY that any comments he may have left on my photos bothered you. i honestly don't pay much attention to photo comments, but i can see how much it bothers you...and if it were me in this position, it would bother me, too.

No...he actually never told me that he was married...but then again i never asked. Due to the casual nature of our friendship, it really never came up and i never felt a need to ask him about his family or personal life.

Reading your messages, the pain you are going through is tangible. Even though we have never met, i consider you as my sister. And as my sister i can tell you that in the past, i HAVE been put through a lot of crap by a few ex-boyfriends. Why i stayed with them so long when i was making myself crazy with jealousy and mistrust, i do not know. Why does any woman stay with a man who she doesn't fully trust? i wish there was an easy answer. i wish it was easy to pick up and leave them.

i don't know why we stay (i have some opinions but that is a whole other discussion), but, at least once in our lives, we all do. And his actions tear you up inside, yet he tells you that he loves you. But then you catch him in another lie, or notice more patterns. And it all starts up again.

my sister, i can only hope that going forward, that you TRUST YOURSELF first, more than what any person tells you. We have our "women's intuition" for a reason, and we should always listen to it! Maybe he's cheating on you, maybe he's lying to you. Or maybe not. Either way, your instinct, your gut feeling, your intuition is telling you to RUN and there's a damn good reason why, even if you don't fully know what that reason is.

my heart breaks for you, to be going through this insecurity and pain for so long. i wish i had seen your messages sooner, i wish i could message you now. i wish that i could wrap you up in my arms, supported, loved, believed. i wish that i could tell you to FUCK THAT GUY and get with someone who you feel safe with. Someone who treats you as you wish to be treated. Someone you can relax with and trust fully.

in solidarity,
pomonagirl

In my six-ish years exploring this world, i've had some incredible experiences, and some harrowing ones. And some that seemed incredible at the time but on later reflection, weren't good and i am lucky to have survived in one piece!!

i think there are two main things that have saved me from going through even worse/more bad experiences:

1. my natural inclination to not be super trusting/super open with most people
2. diving in to attending events (not just play parties, but a variety of classes, discussion groups & munches as well)

As i stick around the events and party circuit, eventually i hear more and more stories of people and places to avoid...at one point last year i began to wonder: "If i stick around long enough in this scene, will i eventually hear something bad about EVERY ONE and EVERY PLACE?"

As i reflected on this thought, i couldn't help but think, yes....yes i probably will. You get enough people and enough venues and enough time and SOMEONE is bound to have a bad experience with someone. Sometimes, maybe it's a one-off. Other times i hear from multiple people about crappy things happening with the same person or venue.

It's a lot to take in and weighing the potential risks can become a heavy burden to bear.

So what do i do? Do i automatically believe everyone that tells me a bad story about a person or venue? Do i automatically put that person or venue on my "Shit List"? If i did, eventually there would be absolutely zero "safe" venues and very few (if any) "safe" people.

For me, this basically means:

1. i can go to a venue and not automatically become a "cheerleader" for it...jump into attending every week, become a member or volunteer.
2. i can meet a person and not jump into a relationship, power exchange or private session with them.

i can "TREAD LIGHTLY"---go and explore things while trying to keep myself a bit apart. Be more of an observer and try to enjoy things on my own terms, for what they are. Keep my own personal boundaries very high in order to keep myself as safe as possible. Take all the available information---good and bad---and use it to help form my own opinions and risk profile.

i wish i had the ability to judge a person or venue perfectly: to see them how they truly are, at a glance. How much safer i would be if i could do that. But until then, i will try to trust my gut instinct, "TREAD LIGHTLY" and always try to remember these things i learned at BDSM Classes when i was a newbie:

"Do not run towards danger"

"Advocate for yourself, because no one else will"

"We are here to help each other"

lightly,
pomonagirl

so for my birthday last month, i went to a Spanking Class at the new Dungeon in LA, Legacy Studios.

it was so great to attend a Kink event for my birthday festivities. made even more special because my vanilla guy came with me!!

it's not "his thing" but he said that he found the class presentation very "interesting"....which is a totally fair assessment for anyone who just attended their first Kink event. He did say that he picked up a few pointers and techniques to try out (YAY) and he enjoyed a lot of what the class instructor had to say about consent and negotiation.

after the class we poked our heads into some of the Dungeon rooms. wow, what a beautiful space!!! i am definitely looking forward to attending a play party there!

Each step, each experience, leads me to where i am. Teaches me. Shows me what i do, and do not want.

After the amazing scene i got to have on New Years Eve...coming home to find my panties soaked...i had forgotten that my body could do that.

i miss that. i miss getting so turned on like that.

Although my relationship with "my vanilla guy" is amazing in so many ways, the sex isn't all that it could be. For me, at least. For him, it's amazing, and honestly, it was amazing for me as well in the past. And still is fulfilling sometimes, on some levels.

But after that experience on New Years Eve i was reminded of how much more it all can be.

Reminded of what i truly need...not just what i've come to expect and accept in the bedroom.

Last night was date night and i knew i had to do something. Start to make a change.

After years of settling into the routine of me servicing him...he gets so many orgasms and pleasure. i get pleasure, too, don't get me wrong. But a true and utter, devastating type of physical and energetic fulfillment...

Not in a long, long time, with him. Maybe years.

So as i prepare myself for his arrival i think on it. Things can be different. Although "vanilla", he is an open and engaging lover. i know that he cares about me and wants me to feel as good as he does.

i know that the scales can tip.

But how?

We are walking down the hallway, my bestie and I. As we get nearer to the appointed door, I notice her falling behind. I turn and see her face, screwed up with consternation, her cheeks red and getting redder by the minute.

"It's ok", I tell her, smiling broadly, calmly. "It'll be more like an art gallery reception than anything, you'll see. And if either one of us is uncomfortable, or gets freaked out, we can leave right away."

Her eyes are wide and a little glassy but at least she is breathing again, looking into my face, seeking to find assurance there. I try to exude a calm authority but really...I don't know what the heck we are walking in to, either. I mean, I've done my research, read tons of posts and articles, talked to old timers, and combed through event listings for months, before selecting this event. My first Dungeon event, and my bestie's first Kink event, of any kind.

By now we are both stopped completely in the hallway. I don't show it but her nervousness is causing the butterflies in my stomach to start doing somersaults as well. But I have the advantage here; I've gotten here with baby steps. She is the real brave one, coming with me on a whim, without any real introduction to all of this.

We stand facing together and again, I do my best to adopt a calm, zen-like demeanor. "Let's just take a few breaths" I say, putting my hands in mudra position and taking 3 deep breaths like in Yoga class. Between my words and the breathing, something works, because now she is moving again.

Once inside, we both scan the room and relax. It is much how I imagined, just smaller, more intimate. A nice open loft space, the old brick and wood so much like the art galleries in my home town. The finished walls are painted white, along with all the furniture. The furniture!! Things I'd never seen in person. A St Andrews Cross, a spanking bench, a bondage table, a few cages. A big locker, open and full to the brim with all kinds of steel and leather gear. A sleek rack along the opposing wall, lined with hanging floggers, canes, paddles, crops.

We move towards the bar and snack table (sooo much like an art gallery party!!) and meet the proprietor. Then, wine. Wine will make it all better.

Cups in hand, we turn and survey the room again. There are three Dommes set up at their "stations", with their toys set up. The attendees, mostly dressed casual/cocktail attire, mingled amongst themselves. The Dommes, super friendly and approachable, answering questions, laughing, happily playing "show and tell". Occasionally they'd give someone a demonstration; we'd watch as someone got tied in a rope harness, or straddled the bench for a light paddling, or got some slight shocks via electro play.

I'm standing watching a demonstration with bestie when I hear a familiar voice Meow behind me. Who is it but, RebelKittyKat

, who I had the pleasure of meeting at the caning class two weeks ago. "RedGyarados

 is over there getting electro play" she said, smiling. "I hate electro play so was looking for some friendly faces!" We embrace warmly and I introduce her to my bestie. A few minutes later RedGyarados

 came back over, smiling big from the demonstration and good vibes in the building. It was really, really cool having real live, actual friends here and I appreciated their companionship and conversation greatly.

Bestie and I stayed for a while, it was super warm in there (also kind of like an art gallery party) but there was lots to see and like I said, it was all very good vibes. We got to speak to two of the Dommes in attendance and even got to experience some electro play (it was pretty enjoyable, we both got a kick out of it!). We also go to see a flogging scene, which was really interesting (kind of hot but mostly interesting) to watch.

This was at "A Night To Explore Kink" held at Dungeon East

 in Los Angeles. This is a lovely private play space that I would recommend anyone interested in checking out. They also offer a wide range of classes and workshops!

when the conversations are so nice, and you've become comfortable, and given some personal info that you don't normally share.

when you start to piece it together. his age, his skill at speaking with women, his worldly experience, his focus on "online only".

when it all clicks and it's time to ask if he is married.

i hope she's out there, in the digital world or the real life world, getting hers, too.

it was only my second time visiting a Dungeon, and i had gone without any intention or expectation to play.

but then, i saw You.

________________________________________________________

it was in the main room, about 30 minutes after the play party portion of the evening had started. i was walking through on my way to the patio. walking with my head held high, feeling confident and looking sexy. i was walking along the long wall that is lined with low couches.

that is when i saw You.

You were sitting on one of the low, long couches; i saw You, and the large black duffel bag on the seat beside You.

i looked down and saw You--and it happened.

i was struck--like running into an invisible wall. the intensity of Your gaze stopping me in my tracks. sitting there, so casually yet with a focused intensity that told all who happened to pay attention, You were here to play.

You were here to play, with me.

as my mind began to digest this fact--i took you in:

Your dark hair and eyes shone against your olive skin; dark blue silk shirt like a deep blue pool that i suddenly wanted to touch. Your gaze, unabashedly fixed on me as i paused, wide-eyed...

in that moment it happened--the power exchange--the shift within myself.

suddenly, i was overcome with the urge to take the seat next to You, on the long, low couch. to be near You, to hear Your voice. to feel Your presence. to see what, exactly, was in that large black bag.

to yield to You; Your will and design. to give myself to You and Your desires.

it is only a second or two but it feels much longer as my brain reels. torn between my self-imposed propriety and this new, unexpected feeling of surrender and submission.

alas, the moment passes, and i continue my path, picking my way through the crowded play stations and small groups of people quietly chatting.

i break the eye contact and the spell is broken.

but not completely.

i still think of You; Your gaze, Your focus. the quiet, burning intensity of Your Dominance that flared up like wildfire in that moment.

i still think of You; darkly handsome, warm, inviting.

i still think of You; and all that You told me, in that fleeting, silent moment.

i still think of You; and wonder what was in that large black duffel bag.

________________________________________________________________

hopefully our paths will cross again; next time i will answer your unspoken command.

Last night at the bar...

i walk in, it's crowded and really noisy. i wasn't expecting so many people on a Wednesday night. i'd come looking for a little peace and quiet before heading home; the unexpected crowd and din of shrill voices makes me almost turn around and leave.

Instead, i figure, awww well, i'm already here. i pull up to one of the few open seats at the corner of the bar, next to two men who are there chatting and having a good time.

Almost immediately, the man immediately to my right says hello and introduces himself. He is very chatty, friendly, obviously very intoxicated. He is polite though, so i don't mind. i'm never opposed to some fun banter and respectful company.

He introduces himself, and his friend (he is TJ, and his friend is John). Once my drink arrives, TJ clinks glasses with me in a "Cheers". He makes sure to tell me about his recent divorce. He makes some lighthearted conversation about this and that. He flirts with me but it's also lighthearted and fun.

TJ says something to John, i don't quite catch it but John says, "Yes, but she is making eye contact with me."

John wasn't wrong.

Although TJ is the one i'm sitting next to, and he is the one chatting me up, John is the one i am eyeing.

TJ is striking me as kind of like a Chihuahua...high energy, somewhat amusing, but loud and needy.

John on the other hand...maybe more like a Great Dane. Quiet, stronger, more in control. "A man of few words", TJ says. But you just know that he is a man of action and takes pride in keeping himself and his household in order.

It doesn't hurt that John really reminds me of my ex. i don't really have one type...i have a few types...and he is definitely one of them.

TJ continues talking to me, making me laugh. Not because he is particularly funny or witty, but because it's amusing. He fist bumps and cheers' me many more times.

He says, "I can tell you have a dark side. I want to see you with your hair down." i laugh, full and throaty. If only he knew.

TJ & John finish their last drinks and they get up to leave. TJ turns to me to say goodbye. He's definitely dropped hints (more than hints) about exchanging phone numbers...leaving together...

But as the two men go to leave, it's John who i make eye contact with, waving goodbye from the corner of the bar.

So my good friend DarkWillow

 & i were at the Dungeon Liquidation Rummage Sale* yesterday.

We got there early just in case there was a line up but the gates were already open!!

First things first we went and pillaged the impact toys & bondage gear.

DarkWillow scored some nice leather collars and cuffs, and a cool selection of impact toys. She got some great things especially since she is just starting out dipping her toes in BDSM. She got a riding crop, a cane, and two small floggers (one leather/suede, and the other stingy silicon).

i gotta admit, i absolutely adored the way her eyes lit up when i picked up the silicon one and said, "Oh...this will REALLY hurt."

She is a born Sadist!!

As for myself---i managed to find a nice looking riding crop (the tongue needs to be replaced but my leather guy should be able to do that for me)...a unique braided rope (or maybe it's paracord?) single tail, a cane, and a couple small handmade floggers.

OH YEAH and some type of whip/crop thing that is taller than me!! **

Our friend SexyPanda couldn't make it (darn day jobs!!) but i told her i'd keep an eye out just in case i saw something she might like. And when i picked up the red suede mini-flogger DarkWillow & i both knew that it was TOTALLY her style!!

Once we were done with that section, we had fun looking at the other odds and ends that were available. DarkWillow scored a really nice long mirror and i got a few trinkets/souvenirs...a skull candle holder and two blue glass vases. When i see them on my shelf every day it will be a nice reminder of my "home dungeon".

*"That moment when you said BDSM Yard Sale but made it sound fancy!"

**i looked it up, it is made by Wonder Whip and is a horse/dressage training whip!

"When you put yourself in a safe situation, little one, you will be able to more fully enjoy subspace." --Sir MJ

Eventually, the embrace ends. The aftercare, done. R-- offers to walk me to my car and i graciously accept. But in reality, i'm really not feeling like going home yet. i feel a bit...fuzzy...and it's still early, anyway.

i take a few steps and that fuzzy feeling hits me. Nothing like i'd fall over but, more like, just a bit lightheaded. Lightheaded in a good way, but still. The cool night air of the patio helps but as we reach the table where people stash their toy bags, i confess to him that i'm not feeling well enough to drive just yet. He's putting his floggers back in his suitcase (he had brought in a full suitcase, with another waiting just in case in his car trunk, he told me, and this is just the collection he travels with), and i ask if i can see what else is in there. He laughs. "It would take about three hours to show you everything that is in here!" i see a corner, patched up with duct tape from the strain, i don't doubt it. "Well then, how 'bout just the highlight reel." He laughs and nods, hefting the case from the wooden table and wheeling it back into the side room.

This time we are both standing, facing each other. He places the case on another table/bench and unzips it. As i expected, it is packed to the brim. i smile, sights like this always warm my heart.

He begins to take some things out, pausing to show me certain things and give a few words on them. A lot of floggers, crops, paddle-like instruments in various sizes, shapes and configurations. Since we are now standing face to face, the exposed cleavage of my ample chest gets a sampling of several of the instruments. There are more things, many more...both typical and a-typical and i can see that this man is a true sensualist and quite experienced at his craft.

There is a hairbrush, but it has really long bristles and is a unique shape, kind of like a spade. Maybe it is for horses? i don't know but as he strokes the bristles against my skin, over the now-pink flesh of my cleavage, i get it. There is also a metal wire thing, that i've seen in some bourgeoisie gift shops. It kind of looks like half of a whisk or egg beater and as he applies it to my scalp, wow, i get that, too. i start to melt and purr and almost ask, if i can lay back down on the table so that we may start all over again.

But i keep this thought to myself and soon the tour is over. i'm feeling a bit more back to earth and a bit tired too; ready or not i should begin the long drive home. Again, he offers to walk me to my car.

He holds my hand as we walk, and gives me his phone number. Once we arrive to my car, he hugs me, and asks to kiss me. Tells me to drive safe and text him when i get home.

Epilouge:

What a great first experience with playing at a dungeon. i feel really lucky and glad that i waited for an opportunity where i was comfortable and at ease.

i am especially grateful for everyone who has given me advice, and encouragement. Pushing me while letting me know, that it's ok to go at my own pace. Sharing with me their wisdom and experience while letting me listen to my own instincts. Without them; i would not be where i am today and i am so grateful.

To those of you that may be new, or new-ish, or looking to expand on past experience. Remember that there is no right path or right way--only the path or way that is right for you. If something does not seem a good fit, think about it, but don't feel compelled to do it. A good push is ok but if you are being forced or manipulated--it's probably not a good time for you to do that certain thing. Maybe it will be, in 6 months or 6 years, but there is no need to rush into situations where you feel uncomfortable.

Your right time may look different than my right time; your set of experiences my look different than mine. As long as your time and experiences are good and positive for you--that is all that matters!!

"Do you like your hair pulled?" This, i do remember. "yes, R--" i answer. i know he will not be too rough with me. i know i am in good hands; that i am in a safe environment. His hand wraps around my hair, close to the scalp. He pulls me up to a standing position, i feel his body pressed behind mine. i hear his words, whispered into my ear. i feel his tongue and lips, so lightly gliding along my ear, my neck. i feel him guide me back into position, bent at the waist and flush against the smooth leather top of the long, wide bench.

There is more...the heavy tattoo of the flogger against my ass and back. Sometimes, my thighs. Sometimes, between my legs... gently...but i do not move to spread them further. At certain points he switches, using his floggers (he has a matched pair laid out, as the class was on 2 Handed Flogging), or his hand. A funny moment as he tugs on my lacy black panties...i think maybe part of the garter belt has slipped but after a second he confesses that he thought i was wearing two pair of panties (these are "fancy panties", black lace with a "v" of grey-toned leopard print down the center). There is an "ouchy" moment as he bites down on my ass cheek (those that know me know i'm not a fan of "bitey"); but this man is a Master and reads me like a large-print edition...i squirm and twist away, and the action is not repeated.

He takes me up--building up speed or intensity--and brings me down. Flogging, and spanking, touching and caressing. i am somewhat aware of sounds of other scenes in the main room, or people chatting and the smell of cigarettes from the patio. But, mostly, it is red out; it is kind of like how i thought it would be like. It's kind of like being in a yoga class: how especially if you are new you might be feeling shy or anxious--after all, you are doing fairly intimate things in a room full of strangers. But when the class begins; and you begin focus on your breath, or balance, or drishti. The room, and all in it, begin to fade away, as you focus on yourself and your inner experience. A good teacher will tell you, when you notice a distraction--to notice it, and let it go (this was an especially good lesson the time i studied at the studio right next to the train tracks). It was similar to how i felt in that side room, in the dungeon. Occasionally i am aware; but honestly, i couldn't say how many people may have walked through, or if any stopped to watch.

Eventually, after a "build up" period of bare handed spanking, there is one good slap on my ass and i crumple a bit, moaning. i fall a bit further against the leather; my legs buckle a bit and become askew. i take a breath, and slowly begin to raise myself up. i don't know how long it's been but i feel like i've reached a limit, or at least, a good stopping point.

i stand, and turn to face him. i'm smiling; i must be beaming. i take a step towards him, into his open arms.

"Thank you R--, for that, for giving my first experience at a dungeon...it felt...amazing", i purr, my head buried against his neck, our bodies intertwined. i feel his energy shift. "Thank you, for trusting me..." he says...he strokes my hair, and holds me. "Thank you for trusting me..."

"When you put yourself in a safe situation, little one, you will be able to more fully enjoy subspace." --Sir MJ

i smile and say hello. He is at the opposite end of the room, facing me squarely. It is just he and i in the small side room. "This is no coincidence", i think, but his calm demeanor causes no alarm bells to go off.

Again, he asks about my friend, where he is...."He left," i say. "I thought you two were going to play...?" i laugh, nervously. "Well...he wants to, but i just don't feel comfortable to play with him." We start talking, and eventually he leads me to sit beside him on the large leather (bench? table? cage?). We talk about ourselves--vanilla stuff and kink stuff. i tell him a bit about my journey with all of this, and my experience level. As for himself, he'd found BDSM through swinger lifestyle, and had been going to dungeons for nearly twenty years. He radiates a calm, unhurried vibe. He makes me feel like a real person and when he asks to see, then use, my flogger...it is without hesitation that i bow my head and say, "yes".

Blushing, i hand him the heavy suede instrument, and stand up. Suddenly i'm feeling a bit awkward and i'm grateful when he touches me, gently taking my arms and helping me in to position, partially bent over on the leather bench. i plant my hands shoulder distance on the soft leather, rolling my back and shoulders a bit like i've learned in previous flogging classes.

The first touch is by his hand. i feel his fingertips, all five, gently but firmly against my skin, on my upper back where the black dress leaves me exposed. He repeats this action, again, again, a touch, gentle pressure. i feel his fingers slowly sliding down. Touching me. Establishing connection. Eventually, when his hand is replaced by the soft, teasing touch of the suede falls of the flogger, i'm already halfway into subspace. Retreating to a place of stillness and quietness i so rarely get to feel in my life.

i'm less and less aware of the sounds from the adjoining main room, and from the patio. Vaguely, i hear the door to the patio open; vaguely, i hear voices: the people that had entered, and a quiet, whispered response from him. A moment later and i hear his voice again. i hear it but do not respond; i figure he is addressing whomever he had just uttered the greeting to.

He laughs gently and draws nearer to me, nearer to my ear. "Are you in subspace already, girl?" It is at this point i realize he must have been speaking to me. Between the meditation-like descent into subspace, and my not-so-great hearing, i'd had no idea. i say something, i don't recall what. i probably just giggle and apologize. "That's alright, i will let you enjoy your subspace" he says, his rich, mellow laugh quelling my momentary embarrassment.

A few more light, teasing strokes with the flogger...the long suede falls caressing my back. Then, the first strike. A solid, thick "thump", again on my upper back. Again, and again. A solid thump, now mixed with the teasing, slow draw of the falls down my back. i let myself descend into this meditation; this sub-space; this realm of deeper dreaming.

The strokes become harder, faster. The regularity and pacing shows his experience. He works my upper back, and i relish each hit. There is no pain, not even pleasure, really. Only sensation, and submission.

Eventually, i feel his hands on me, again. Guiding me into position, forcing me to lay flat against the wide bench. i remove my glasses, spread my arms and hands, until my cheek is pressed against the leather. i feel him lift my dress, exposing the lacy black panties and the tops of my thighs. The straps of the garter belt and the tops of the fishnet stockings.

More touching here; caresses, and spankings...then a pause as he again picks up the flogger...

There is more, much more, but the details are lost in the swirly, comforting fog i have now fully descended in to. Sometimes there is pain, but mostly, there is pleasure; pleasure and sensation. Sometimes he leans forward, leaning in, close to my ear. Asking me something, telling me something. i answer each time; i do not remember most of what is said.

"When you put yourself in a safe situation, little one, you will be able to more fully enjoy subspace." --Sir MJ

Sooooo….i had another first!! Those of you keeping score know i've been going to kink events....classes, newbie nights, community nights at dungeons. i'd been to one dungeon a few times recently, for their Friday night class and play party night. But i hadn't played at all, preferring just to take part in the class, socialize and watch some of the play. Until my most recent visit, that is!!

As usual, i'd gotten there early to sit in on the program of classes. It was a quiet night there with the classroom only about half full.

The class was cool and afterwards i drifted around, got some coffee and chatted with my friend, who is a member there. It wasn't til later, when i was seated by myself at the long table in the patio, when He approached. A quick introduction followed by the question; where is my (male) friend? "He's somewhere around..." i reply, vaguely. i'm a little disappointed as He quickly retreats, i'd seen him in the class and i still feel fairly awkward and like an outsider; it would have been nice to chat with him a while.

A while later and my friend has left. i spend some time watching in the main room, just relaxing in a comfy chair and soaking up the good vibes. Eventually nature calls and i get up to use the bathroom in the adjoining side room.

As i exit the bathroom, who is there, but him.

"You're smiling." His voice, clear and calm, cutting through the semi-darkness. "Yes Sir, because I am happy", I respond, stretched out on the black bed sheets, luxuriating in the newfound warmth running through my body.

"Are You happy, Sir?"

"I am thrilled to death." A slow smile begins to appear, accentuating His chiseled good looks. I feel, more than see, His gaze shift from my face to my body, drinking me in, large eyes shining. "A beautiful young woman, naked on My bed, and every time the tip of My crop touches her nipple, she arches her back and begs for more."

In my fantasy, I am waiting in bed when you approach.

You are dressed in a night shirt and collar.

Without saying a word, with just the steel in my gaze, I command you to strip.

You lower your eyes, and shyly pull off your shirt, exposing your fine, naked body.

My slight smile and the lines around my eyes indicate my pleasure.

You crawl into bed, nude as you should be.

You rest your head on my chest.

I stroke your hair.

And you sleep.

Sometimes the most erotic words, are the most tender.

Thank you Sir, for sharing this beautiful bedtime fantasy...

humbly, yours

I come to a fork in the forest path. The mild dose of lysergic acid diethylamide courses through me, I feel...lucid...awake...calm yet aware. I am alone, I feel the import of each action, of each step. The path is dark and dappled with moonlight, shining brightly through the trees.

I choose the higher road, more dramatic, winding close to the mountainside, the boulders protruding, the cool breeze caressing me. The echoes of the sound system and noise of the revelers fades as I begin my ascent.

I pick my way slowly, steadily, with great intent. Underneath the calm my senses come alive. I think of where I am. The history here, the spirit here. Those who came before me and those who still live here, passing down the old ways. In my third eye I see a brief vision, of this land, in the old days. A coyote runs across the path, coat shining in the moonlight. The trees thicker, no roads or paths yet cut. I shiver, humbled by it all. My life, so small, so insignificant, so fleeting in the grand scheme of geological time. Life and death, the endless cycles of nature.

The path is darker now, the trees thicker, hiding the moon. An outcropping of large rocks and boulders obscures my view of the path ahead. I catch my breath, suddenly feeling the weight of this moment. I pause, for a moment, unsure. But I hold my head high and continue.

This night, I have opened myself with the intent to receive. So it is without fear when suddenly I feel a presence, ethereal yet as real as any physical body. In my heightened awareness, I feel the presence, I feel the warmth, the kindness, the protective energy radiating all around me. Enveloping me, walking alongside of me. And I know it is Him.

"I have taken a part of you, and keep it as a treasured possession"

As I remember His words, my heart swells with emotion. Even now, miles apart, He is watching over His possession. I feel stronger, more secure, knowing I am worthy of such a high honor. Knowing I am worthy of being cared for and protected. Knowing that a part of me will always be in service to Him. Knowing that a part of Him will always be there with me, through the miles and the years and the cycles of life.

Post :

How I do miss His physical presence. The times He chose to use me for His pleasure. How it felt to submit to a man that truly deserved it. How it felt to be at once honored and defiled. The bliss and contentment in following His simple, precise instruction. The faith and security of trusting Him. All the things He taught me and showed me, about life, about aesthetic, about Dominance and submission.

How many times can I thank Him, how can I express to Him how much it all meant to me...means to me. How grateful I am that He found me, that He chose me. How grateful I am that I was open to receive. How can I tell Him that His influence impacts me, daily. I know I can not, so I try to show Him, by serving Him as I can, by living the best I know how. To hold myself to His standard, even in His absence. I would never want Him to be anything less than proud of me.

Many Doms and Masters before Him had told me I am not submissive, or "truly submissive". I had begun to question myself and my path in this world of Kink and BDSM. My heart was growing heavy and I was about ready to throw in the towel, go back to vanilla life and seek whatever romantic or sexual pleasure I could. But then He found me, and I understood. My submission, my true and deep, pure submission, can't be given to just any man that gives himself a title or role. This pure and deep part of myself can only be brought out by a man that is worthy, that is a compliment to myself, that is greater than my equal. This type of man that I do not find very often. This is the type of man I will follow into any situation, this is the type of man with whom I have no limits. This is the type of man that can own me, possess me, dominate me, use me.

This is the type of man that I can feel, hundreds of miles away, protecting me, nurturing me, holding me, even as I walk alone, meditating on the moonlight and the forest and my small place in it all. I feel Him there and am made stronger in my submission and service.

suddenly I feel His hand in my hair, drawing my head back as His other arm encircles my throat. drawing me to Him; pressing my body against His.

"Do you feel my fucking heart pounding?" His voice, raw and sexual in my ear.

"yes, Sir M--, i do..." i manage to say, just above a whisper...

He continues to draw me back, one hand in my hair, other arm around my throat. forceful, but not painful. He starts to move--leading me towards the bed? i'm not sure and struggle a bit. not out of fear but out of--habit? uncertainty?

after just a few steps what i am doing registers in my conscious mind. in this strange and new position--Him behind me, binding me, forcing me forward--i fight my instincts and try to make myself limp, yielding. letting Him lead--showing my trust and submission through my body language and posture. i take a deep breath, trying to still my mind. not think, not anticipate. just follow.

how special, how sacred, how frightening and fulfilling it is, to be led. to be led, physically and mentally. how i need it, long for it. how i fight it, once it is right in front (or behind) me.

...the beauty when i let go of the fight. when i acquiesce to His Will; further becoming a vessel for His pleasure, a canvas for His delights...

...when i follow His lead...

So I've been exploring BDSM for just over one year now and occasionally I am asked, "Where did this all begin for you? What made you realize you are kinky?" or, "What drew you to this lifestyle?" There is no one thing or incident in my life; no grand origin story or childhood event that triggered my aberrant sexuality. Overall, I think it is just my natural personality that is drawn to, and desires to explore the more outré, hidden aspects of life. There are, however, lots of small things that lead me where I am today. Like building blocks, these past incidences and experiences have laid the foundation for the burgeoning BDSM Lifestyler I am today.

One of these things is when I realized, that I was more likely to orgasm from sex if I had been spanked beforehand. Remember now, I spent my whole life sexually adventurous but in a vanilla world. So I was dating vanilla men as I slowly made this realization. I'd been in a monogamous vanilla relationship all throughout my 20's so once I was free of that, I began to date and experience other men. Being given a few solid swats on the ass before being taken from behind quickly became a highlight of these trysts. Eventually, the correlation being made in my mind...then getting brave enough to ask for more. More spanking. Just the spanking, then the sex, please. For like 15 minutes. Um, at least. Some men would get it (maybe they were closeted kinky folks, or just happy to oblige); others didn't. But boy, do I remember the sensation during, and after, my first prolonged spanking session.

Of course these were all done in a "vanilla" context and not very severe. By this point in my life I'd started my own education, reading loads of erotica (much of it having to do with Kink or BDSM), and chatting via IM on a few sex/kink chat sites. I learned some things, at least theoretically. I'd read about different types of spanking and spanking scenarios--discipline, role play, etc. I don't know where it was the first time I heard the term, "Maintenance Spanking", but that was the one that got to me. Not discipline--for all my outward "toughness" I like to be a good girl and am very sensitive to anger or harsh action. Not role play--I didn't crave any artifice to enhance my need for this. But "Maintenance". That sounded right.

Throughout my 30's I had a few boyfriends and lovers who were kinky in various degrees, and I learned to ask more for spankings, as well as for other things. I bought basic bondage and impact toys at basic sex shops and would have my partner use them on me whenever I could talk them into it. But this past year and a half or so, has marked the first time really getting spanked, flogged, etc. Not by vanilla guys, or even by kinky guys. Spanked, flogged, whipped by true BDSM Lifestylers: dyed in the wool, dedicated Spankers, Masters, Sensual Doms, Daddys, Sadists, etc.

Gaining these experiences has made me infinitely more aware of what I like and don't like about spanking...as well as how much more I have to learn about it. I have learned that Sadism is valuable, and important. Maybe even as much as the more erotic, sensual touch. I have learned that with the right technique and pacing, I can take so much pain, more than I ever would have thought possible. I have learned that if he goes in too hard, too fast, I will be calling red (or close to that point) much too quickly. I have also learned that, a spanking too slow or too gentle does not do the trick for me.

Most importantly, I have learned that for whatever various reasons, I am more likely to orgasm from sex if I have been spanked beforehand. And, even if the play or scene does not include orgasm or sex...I still need it, sometimes.

Umm, well. Often.

Maintenance Spanking, after all. :)

So, a few years ago, before all the covid stuff started, i met a Dominant at a local munch. Of all the chances, he lived very close to me---like, walking distance close! He said he was a "newbie" but did have some skill with rope bondage. We had some vanilla things in common too, so once we got comfortable with each other it seemed like a "no-brainer" to let him get some practice on me.

Doing the rope together was cool. i never felt any power exchange or subspace from it---he would be talk, talk, talking about whatever, incessantly, while he wound and knotted the rope (He was quite a talker!!). So the vibe really was more like a lab, or like a practice session.

We had also talked about impact play and shared some common interests in that, too, but honestly, his technique with floggers, spanking, paddles wasn't as good as his technique with rope.

As we got more comfortable with each other as friends and play partners/practice partners, i devised a scheme to take him to the dungeon on a night where they had an impact play class, followed by a play party!!! What a great set-up, for both of us, i thought.

We would both get the fun of attending the dungeon and doing a scene together there. And with the class....hopefully he would pick up some techniques which would also benefit us both: i would enjoy a scene with him more and be more willing to play with him more often. And he would learn some skills that would make him more desirable to other potential play partners (the more you know!!).

So we arrived at the dungeon early to sit in on the class----it was an overview class on various types of impact instruments and techniques. By his body language, i could tell that he was fully engaged and mentally "taking notes"---it seemed like my plan was working!!!

After the class we enjoyed the "social hour" for a while then went to find an open station for our scene.

And wow---what a difference!!

First he applied some rope on me, then bound me to a piece of furniture in preparation for the impact portion of our scene. He really had been paying attention because the difference was night and day.

i was able to relax more and enjoy the scene much more than our previous attempts with impact. For me, i rather "enjoy" the spanking, flogging, etc. than merely endure it...of course it's a balance of pain and pleasure, but it's got to be that "right kind of pain" and good technique helps with that.

All in all i think he enjoyed the experience as well---of attending the dungeon, class, and doing the scene together. i know he had good intentions of being involved with this lifestyle and figured he would benefit from the class.

We ended up going to two different dungeon nights where they had the impact class/play party nights, and each time, his technique was better.

So yeah. Maybe not all "topping from the bottom" is bad? Or maybe, Dominant-types need some instruction and technique sharpening, and sometimes it's just up to a wiley sub-type to get him to the class.

i had lunch with HIM yesterday. It was so nice to see Him and be able to spend some time with Him.

i want to ask Him, so badly, if we can play again. But i know i shouldn't.

So i just take what He can offer me---friendship, some affection, some attention.

But if i had my way, there would be so much more.

So for now, i take these opportunities as i can, quietly reveling in the enormity of His presence. Enjoying the easy conversations that we always have---catching up on vanilla life, sharing stories about this lifestyle. Enjoying the sight of His handsome face and lean body. Knowing what is under the tight black jeans. Sneaking a look at His boots and leather jacket. Reveling in the memories of our times together.

i wish i could at least have "one more time" with Him, even though i know that "one more time" would never be enough. But better than no more times....

It's so painful to have experienced a taste of this deep bond and fall in love with someone who can't follow through with it. i can't say that i regret it---without the experience with Him, i wouldn't have the understanding of what D/s or M/s is, or can be. And i wouldn't have had the courage to begin attending BDSM & Kink events.

Going through the relationship with Him---caused me to be aware of my limits in a way i wasn't aware of before. Now i know the trust and bonding (to me, this more or less equals "love") required in D/s or M/s, and i know how painful it is when the person can not give that "love" back.

This is why, on other sites, i generally have my role as "bottom" (and would have my role as "bottom" here, too, if it were an option). It's much safer for me to protect my heart & emotions than to be trying to find that deeper connection.

Maybe someday i will come across a man who i desire as a Dominant or Master, and He can/wants to fulfill that role too. With all the obligations of caring for my heart & emotions that come with it.

But until then, i hold off on the D/s or M/s, not wanting to bond so deeply with a man who only views me as something part time, something disposable, something that He can't be in love with or give priority to.

If that's all i am to him, i'd rather just do scenes with strict limits and negotiations, in a place where there are rules and staff. So i can get some of my needs met too, but not have to become so vulnerable as to go through the bonding/trust process of D/s.

i'm kneeling on the big black pillow that He has placed in the middle of the large, sparse space. hands bound behind my back, the red blindfold covering my eyes.

i hear Him step away, then return. sightless, i gaze up at Him, adoringly. waiting, peacefully and with perfect trust.

i feel it first on my cheek, the rough edge of the tip of the crop. caressing and teasing me, He slides down my face, to my neck. to the tops of my breasts, straining against the too-tight red bra.

the tip leaves my skin--just for a second--then He brings it back down. hard. not too hard but, hard enough. a pepper of quick smacks on one breast, then repeated on the other.

"Open", He says. i open my mouth.

i feel the thin shaft of the crop against my tongue and teeth. "Close." i close my mouth, holding the toy in place.

He steps back, and for a moment...i peek...(is it a kink to sneak the occasional peek through blindfolds?)

i am rewarded with the sight of His body: His muscular, golden brown torso, ending in the ubiquitous tight black jeans. i watch as He unbuckles the fly...i watch as He takes His cock--His glorious, thick, long, hard cock--in His hand. rubbing it, admiring His work.

"Open."

the toy is taken from between my lips. again, i feel the tip of it, now tracing my breasts, down to my stomach. up along my sides and back. again, i feel it leave my skin, and come back down, hard. again, and again.

He is a Master at His craft; and i, His willing canvas. submissive and Dominant, in perfect harmony.

"Open."

i open my mouth. this time, it's not the thin shaft of the crop i feel, but something much larger, and warmer.

i open my mouth wider to accept the head of His cock. without sight, or the use of my hands, i am truly at His mercy. i wrap my lips around it, and try to relax.

He nudges it in, slowly. i try to make my mouth supple, elastic, as He begins to thrust. He is moving slowly--so very many things i admire about this Man; His restraint, His timing, chief among them.

am i thrusting back, against Him? i'm not sure...i am lost in this moment, blind, and bound, existing only for His pleasure.

He withdraws.

this time, it is His hands on my body, slapping me, striking my breasts, my thighs. the feel of it hurts more than the crop, i think. the sound it makes, as it reverberates through the hundred year old brick and hard wood, is different.

"Open."

again, the thin, metallic shaft of the crop. He steps behind me, crouching low again, He unhooks my bra. my hands are still bound--i cannot help as He takes each strap from my shoulders, pulling it down. freeing my breasts.

"Open."

i open my mouth, the toy is taken from it's holding place. my now-exposed breasts are peppered with strikes from the crop. am i smiling? i start to feel giddy.

"Open."

this time, i feel it before the word is fully out of His mouth. His cock. i open to accept. how i adore the feeling, of His cock in my mouth. how it conforms to His shape. how the whole entire world just slips away and i am warm, and wet, and He picks up speed, never thrusting too hard though. no gagging tonight; just acceptance.

"Open."

again, the sharp sting of the crop, again, the quick flurry of blows. He is above me, then behind me. He crouches low, circling me, landing the crop with His experts' touch. in my minds eye i try to picture it.

over and over again--the crop, His hands, His cock.

"Open."

such a simple word, to denote a simple physical action. but is anything so simple, with Him?

"Open."

i open for Him; my mouth, my body. my mind, my trust, and heart.