Escapades Ch 04

Spring 2012

Alright! I've just had an amazing couple of days. I'll record as much as I can remember, though it's already blurring at the edges due to the almost dreamlike altered state of mind I went into.

Obviously, I went back to Montreal again for another escapade. This time, I went with the intention of doing some sort of kinky scene, and I ended up going back to That Shop twice.

The first time I went, I didn't plan ahead and didn't put any pressure on myself. Amie and I went shopping, walked around, and had lunch. I wore a short black and white dress with my little black lace bolero from Japan and Brazilian-cut panties, but no corset, no stockings. I brought my cuffs along, and that was all. It was 4:00 by the time we got there, which was later than I'd intended. My sister was also coming to stay with us for a few days on the way to a summer camp, and we had to pick her up at the train station around 6:00 or 6:30. But I was feeling surprisingly unhurried and gentle, open to whatever experience came along. In retrospect, it was a good state of mind to be in.

The corset-maker was working when we came in, but I didn't go up to him first thing. Amie and I looked around the more vanilla part of the shop first, making comments about the corsets and bras. Only when I got near the aisle leading to the back of the shop did he ask me if I was looking for anything. I said something like,

"I don't know if you remember me, but you fitted me for a corset and sold me a pair of wrist cuffs. Now I'd like to get the matching ankle cuffs. Could you help me?"

He asked me if I had the cuffs with me, and I said I did. As I passed them to him, our hands touched. His hand was warm, almost hot, against mine. He said he could help me and added, "And then I'll put a hood on you and spank you."

Clearly, he remembered me.

"Ooh, is that part of the service?" I asked suggestively, smiling.

"Yes, it is," he replied after a thoughtful pause. "Would you like to come to the back with me and try some things on?"

I looked to Amie. She nodded, understanding my unspoken intentions instantly. She said she'd get a coffee at a nearby café that we both liked, and that she'd keep her phone on in case I needed her. Oh, my faithful wing-woman! There's no way I would've felt as safe as I did if she wasn't literally two minutes away, ready to back me up. She was so patient with my stumbling explorations all along. Really, she made it all possible.

Once she left, I turned myself over to the corset-maker. He led me into the enclosed back room, where the hoods, harnesses, and other fetish gear are kept. It took him a while to find the ankle cuffs that matched my wrist cuffs. While he rummaged through a big bin full of different kinds, I made small talk about the shop, asking if it was busy, and whether he made everything himself. I was definitely projecting my energy, shining the silent signal 'I want to play with you.' He picked up on it. How could he not?

Finally, he found me two pairs of ankle cuffs: one with Velcro closures to match my armbands, and the other with buckles, flat silver rivets, and two d-rings on each cuff, an inside and an outside. But before he let me try any one, he put the wrist cuffs I'd bought my first time in the shop back on me. As he did so he remarked on my natural long nails, saying with approval,

"All natural. Nothing fake here."

Then he crouched and had me put my foot on his knee to put the ankle cuff on me. It was slightly unstable, so for the second foot he sat on a low stool he brought out, making his leg and his grip stronger. I knew that he could see my panties with my legs raised in that short skirt, which gave me a little thrill. He brought me out into the back aisle of the shop to show me the cuffs in the mirror there. As a demonstration of what could be done with them, he hooked my wrists to my ankles so that I was bent over at the waist. He had to work at the right-hand hook a bit, and in doing so he pressed his body more firmly against mine and cupped my outthrust ass in his crotch. I thought I could feel him already getting hard against me.

"And then we give you one of these," he said, and lightly slapped my ass. I laughed and said "Oh yes" or some such. I let him know I liked it.

He took me back to the enclosed room and asked me if I'd like to try a hood and collar, or rather, which one I wanted to try first. I said, "Whatever you wish," so he opted to show me the collar first, to let me see what it looked like. He selected one that matched my ankle cuffs and put it on me.

"Don't worry, I won't put it on you as tight as I like to when I play," he said, tugging the strap gently.

"You can make it tighter..." I volunteered tentatively.

"Oh, you like to be choked?"

"Yeah, I do, kinda..."

At that he pulled the collar tight, then took my throat in his hand, squeezing hard. I went up on my toes and my head went back. I felt an electric line of excitement run through me from my throat to my sex in a stroke like lightning. I flushed wide. Everything gave way inside me. I could feel myself submitting. It's my greatest weakness, being held by the throat. He held me like that for a long moment before letting me go, gasping and aroused. He showed me myself in the mirror, with cuffs on my wrists and ankles and the collar around my throat and asked me what I thought.

"Beautiful," I admitted shyly.

But that was the last look I'd have at myself for this session, because, true to his word, what he did next was to hood me and spank me.

He took the collar off first, then took a hood made of a stretchy black nylon or lycra-like fabric from one of the head models on a shelf behind him. It had little holes for air under the nose, but otherwise fit tight to my face, my lips. He stroked my face through the mask, then moved on to my body: my bare shoulders and arms, my waist and hips, my shaking legs. In a low, deep voice he told me that I had an amazing body, that it turned him on. He positioned me across the room and commanded me to walk forward to the sound of his voice. When I reached him, he caressed me in reward. Then he told me to stay still and wait while he fetched something.

As soon as he said "stay still," even my trembling legs stopped shaking. I obeyed. Everything around me was pitch black. I could see nothing at all except for the two tiny pinprick points of light at my nose that let me breathe. I had to strain my eyes downward to their limits to see even that. After a few seconds I gave up my efforts and gave up control. I closed my eyes and lowered my head in surrender. I opened all of my body's other senses to what was happening to me...

(Did you notice that we've finally come back to the beginning of the story, dear reader? The tale is almost done now, but don't worry, I won't let you go before the climax.)

I waited for him, and I felt my body intensely in all its objectification and desire. I listened intently but couldn't tell what was happening. Was someone else in the room? No, it was just him, coming in with something that I recognized by sound: the rubber flogger.

"I remember that," I whispered.

He twirled it in the air so I could hear the sound of it approaching me, all the while talking to me in a low, sensual voice. Then a delicate sensation flicked across the seat of my skirt, stirring the fabric and impacting my skin, but not striking me hard enough to hurt, not yet. He told me he wanted to hear my reactions, but quietly, not so loud that it might alert anyone up front. I let myself sigh and moan as he flicked harder with each impact. The pain swelled, sharp and swift, and my desire surged in reaction. I couldn't help it; I got more and more excited. But when he heard me beginning to breathe harder, he stopped and did something I didn't expect at all.

He held me. He just held me in his arms against his warm chest and had me breathe in time with him. He smelled so good, like warm spices. I breathed his scent in deep with pleasure, and my taut body relaxed. I felt as safe and protected as a little girl. I rested there for a long moment before he began again.

The next thing he did to me involved both soft and hard sensations. He told me again to wait while he fetched something and left me in rapt blindness, listening, awaiting his touch. I expected more pain, so when something soft brushed my shoulder, I was surprised and yet aroused—my mind and body both. What was this thing? Some sort of furry glove? He stroked both arms with it, then my upper chest. He ventured a little ways along my inner thighs, up, up...then, all of a sudden, there was a tap and then a slap on my ass with something hard and flat, some kind of paddle. I yelped, but inside I was rejoicing because it felt so good to have my fantasy realized. He flicked my skirt up and spanked me firmly and rhythmically on each cheek until I was burning with it. My skin felt alive like never before, hot and tingling. He alternated these two sensations, the soft and the hard, in a remarkable way. Then he pressed my burning ass against his crotch and asked me,

"Can you feel it?"

He was hard. Very hard.

"Yes, yes," I panted, "I can feel it!"

After that, he said he'd give me a little massage to cool me down. But he didn't use his hands. Instead, he used a Hitachi magic wand vibrator, running it over my shoulders, back and neck, then down my spine to my bottom.

"Do you like it in the ass?" He whispered in my ear.

"No," I admitted, sweetly yet honestly. "That's one thing I don't like."

He moved the vibe back up and circled around to the front. When he came to the centre of my belly and lower abdomen, I squirmed and blurted out,

"I'm so sensitive there!"

"Where?" He asked immediately, moving back up. When he reached my belly and I squirmed again, he used the vibe and also his hands to tickle and grip my flesh until I fairly danced in place. Then he brought the vibe lower, between my legs. He squeezed the tender skin of my inner thighs hard, hard enough to really hurt. I moaned and squirmed as he kneaded my clit with the vibe, my arousal beginning to peak. But just as I felt the rise of my orgasm coming on, he stopped and said,

"No. You're not going to cum in my shop."

"Please. Please." I begged in a little breathy-high voice. But I could feel that the decision was made, and I was only doing it for the play, the performance of it. We were done. It left me in blissful anticipation, full of brimming energy.

When he took the hood off me, I was beaming, radiant. He hugged me again. We talked a little about how he had discovered my sensitive points, including my lower belly and my hands, which he took and rubbed between his own. He also talked about his philosophy of Domination. He told me that he isn't interested in 24/7 or in ownership.

"The collar goes on, you submit, we play, and when the collar comes off again, you don't own me, I don't own you, and we go our respective ways."

I agreed enthusiastically to this, saying it's what I also want.

He also explained to me that his version of play involves no penetration. He had mentioned this once during our play and I also recall admitting at one point, "I'm not in this for sex, just sensation," but it was a great comfort to hear it confirmed. He did say there might be sex eventually, to which I replied very doubtfully, "Well, I don't know about that." I clearly let my tone of voice say: 'Nope, not into it.' He explained that it didn't have to be penetration, but could be masturbation, or some other way to make me orgasm. Again, I liked this, it was exactly what I wanted to hear, so I was enthusiastic.

At this point, things were winding down between us. I told him I would buy the cuffs and think about the collar. He told me that if I did get the collar, it would signal that I was a submissive, and I should think long and hard about it before committing. I wanted it, but all of a sudden I wanted a second opinion. I also began to think about Amie and wonder if she was worried about me. How long had she been waiting? I decided to call her and tell her I was getting ready to pay, but wanted to know what she thought of something. When she got there, I asked her into the back fetish section of the shop and showed her the collar that he had me in. She agreed that it looked good on me, so I decided to buy it along with the ankle cuffs. She waited for me out front while I finished up the purchase.

Before I left the back of the shop, the corset-maker and I talked about when I could come back to see him next. There were a few more days left in my visit, so I said maybe Sunday. I still had his cell number, so he asked me to text him at 7:00 and confirm if I could come. When I agreed, he nodded and said,

"That's a command."

"I'll obey." I confirmed.

He reminded me not to talk too loudly about what we'd done out in the storefront. Then he took me up front and the woman at the cash rang me through.

The story of how I texted him and what happened after that gets a bit complicated, so I'll record that later.