My First Time

I did not go to play. I really did not think it was a possibility.

I had sat in the background at more than one munch just watching, learning, and listening to those around me. Sometimes I would get excited and let loose my personality, a little, but I had not yet gotten to scene with anyone. Sure, in my vanilla life, I had been spanked, with a hand or paddle, but never with any strength. I knew I enjoyed the release that bondage allowed me, when I had played with rope and scarves previously I found that my brain stops, which is a definite turn on, because it rarely occurs. For me, men with mental strength is a large turn on. Those are some of the things that had led me here to munches and play parties. Yet I questioned myself, can I really do this? I knew I wanted to try, everything. Well almost everything. Of course that didn't and doesn't mean I am not a little scared! Although I hide it, I think, and that in itself is a turn on; for almost everything I want to do could be dangerous if I hand myself over to the wrong person. So I sat, drank a beer and watched friends and others play. While watching I tried to make sure those who were new to the scene didn't blatantly interrupt, I like being helpful and taking care of others, just part of what makes me who I am. It was a demonstration at a non BDSM event, a bar, so most had little idea of the etiquette involved, and I had tried to learn the rules early.

I remember watching another girl walk around in cuffs and thinking to myself I want to do that, to feel the leather binding me. As the evening went on, I found myself looking at all the implements laid out for others use and inspection. In their midst I saw curled, a small length of chain, it was a leash. It called to me, that length of chain. Honestly, I fantasized about being led around with a collar on; hands securely linked behind my back, all my attention focused on the Dominant holding the other end. I daydreamed about finding that certain Dominant who would hold my leash. As I played with the leash, almost innocently, with a small pout and not expecting anything I commented to no one in particular, I did not have anything to attach it to. Before I knew it a collar was found, it was black leather and wide with silver buckle. A Dom friend asked if he could help secure it around my neck.

Feeling it there, the collar, securely binding my neck, I take my hand and rub it over the strong Leather, then find the metal ring I attach the length of chain, and smile quietly to myself. Daydreaming, I sat holding and playing with the leash because there was no one else. One day, I think to myself.

Later in the evening my Dom friend asks if he can lead me for a bit by my leash. I agree, following a short distance behind him I pretend that he is someone I have submitted to, I hold my hands behind my back as if they were secured. I wonder if he noticed. When he is done he hands back the leash and says, "Thank you." I think to myself that this is why I have come to these events, to find someone I can hand over my virtual leash to, a physical representation of that internal need.

Sitting watching others in scenes around me, trying different implements, floggers, paddles, whips, listening to their cry's or moans I wonder what it would be like to be the one on the pommel horse or St. Andrews cross. I think about how beautiful the Cross is, sturdy black painted wood and hard to the touch. I imagine myself bound securely upon it and how escape would not be possible. Not that I would try, that is after all what I want; to be secured with no chance of escape, following the commands of another.

I watch as different people climb upon the horse their heads down, eyes closed. They grip the handles as another reddens their ass with hand or some other device. I wonder how each "toy" would feel on my skin, the flogger especially, because I have held one in my hands and hit the inside of my thigh. I had wondered how it would feel in some others hands.

Then I am asked "Would you like to play?" He takes hold of the leash I had offered earlier to him but he hadn't taken. Thoughts flood my head. I want to, but I am scared. I want to, but we are in a very public place. I want to, but what if I disappoint him. I had thought of playing with this Dom before, I am attracted to him and I know he is someone I can trust. I am a little reluctant and scared, but what if he never asks again? While these things flow through my head he plays with the leash pulling, talking to others, it is an unusual feeling, not a part of the conversation, but there waiting quietly for his attention.

"Yes" I tell him when he is done with his conversation.

He whispers in my ear, "Ask." Softly I respond "Please play with me." I am not looking at him, not from embarrassment but because it does not seem right. I lean into him and his arm wraps around me, the top of my head maybe reaching his shoulders. He holds me with one arm as the other pulls on the leash as we start the negotiations, discussing how we are going to play. Since I have never played before this negotiation of what is to happen is new to me. How much do I tell him? What do I say?

He motions to the table with floggers, whips, canes, and more laid out and asks, "Is there anything you do not want used?" Funny, because eventually I want to try everything and I tell him so.

He asks, "How much experience do you have?" Since I have played a bit before but not with anyone who really took it seriously or dangerously, I hold my fingers together with just a small space in between, and say "just a small amount."

He says, "When I play I like to touch and bite, are you ok with that?" a small smile on his face. I smile and tell him, "Yes," what I am thinking is, please touch me. It has been so long since I have been touched.

"Do you have a preference on which furniture we use?" My shoulders rise in a shrug and I say, "Not really." Secretly I am thinking, I would love to use the cross, just the thought of being bound to its hard straight surface sends fire racing down my spine, the horse looks interesting but there is no way for me to be bound, but either would be a new experience. For a minute he stands there then tells me we will use the cross.

"Is there anything I need to know?" He asks. I tell him about my about my one physical issue and then think about what else I want to tell him. I don't know what else to say, I hadn't really thought this far, I really didn't think playing was a possibility for me tonight or even this soon. The way my mind works a checklist would be great, then I wouldn't have to pull things from the air. Sometimes I have a hard time speaking up, I mean really, what do you tell someone you don't know if you are ever going to play with again.

And then we try on different cuffs to see which feels most comfortable. I take off my shirt and sweater. He asks if I want to be blind folded, I say yes please, and he moves me to the cross and adjusts it over my eyes, then standing close against my back he secures me to the St. Andrews cross. He touches me, runs his hands slowly along my body, his hands still gently touching he leans forward and sinks his teeth into my right shoulder, holding still for just a moment before stepping back.

A moment's pause enough time for me to wonder what will happen and I feel the first light lash of a flogger. I know that is what he is using, instinct. As each lash falls across what seems like half my back I lean forward merging my body with the St. Andrews Cross. They start coming faster and harder, I sinking into the feelings and allowing them to wash over me. The cuffs, the blind fold, the lash of the flogger each contribute to the mind numbing sensations. Stand here and feel that is all, my mind blanks as each stroke falls across my back, I have nothing else to do but be. A little sting here and there, and yet thinking back I can't even remember those stings, just the sound and feel of the lashes hitting the skin of my back. I lean my head against the arm of the cross no thoughts in my head. He stops and comes forward pressing his body close to mine, his hands moving, touching, searching, I sink back into to him, he checks to see if I am ok. Feeling the chill in my hands he offers to move them but I shake my head no. For me they are perfect where they are, I think to myself that I am glad I did not need to speak, it would have been too difficult. He backs away and continues each lash falling harder this time. He has noticed that I do not move or squirm, my body and mind accept each lash stroke. I am quiet, at peace, and he continues for how long I do not know or care.

He steps back again, another moment's pause, I wonder what will happen next. I stand listening but unable to hear a sound and then I feel a small sting. Not even as bad as a bee sting, and another. They move around my back. I know I wondered briefly what he was using. I didn't flinch or move, just drifted with the small stings feeling each one. It doesn't matter I am just here to feel and I lay my head on the arm of the cross relaxing into the sensation. It seems like the small stings go on forever, and they start to not feel good anymore, a bit annoying. He stops and I am grateful. Again he steps forward checking on me, touching me, his hands moving across my breasts and around my stomach before backing away. I feel like I am melting away, just sensation, my world is only the feelings he is giving me.

I feel a small sting that begins to burn, a heat that starts warming my skin. And then another. The strikes fall harder than before, Again and again this heat burns in spots. High, low, all over I have strips of burning warm flesh. I hear a loud crack by my ear and I know that I am being whipped. I do not know what to think so I just feel. It burns but also feels good, I start to move, not really to get away but because I have to. The burn demands I move. Lash after lash falls and occasionally a crack of the whip close by, it sounds so loud, trying to draw me out of the floaty unreal feeling I had been in since he attached me to the cross. Then it stops and I feel his hands running lightly over my back, soothing the burn. His comes close to me, I can still feel the small burns crossing my back and he presses into them with his body. His hand roams and dips. Again he steps back.

A moment later I feel a flogger thud, and then another. It feels so nice after the whip as if he is massaging the muscles and skin he had just burned. I relax again resting fully against the cross and enjoying each thud as it falls. A brief thought floats through my head, If only I could feel this forever. He stops and steps forward pressing me closer to the cross, supporting me, his arms up against mine. He reaches up and undoes the cuffs from where they have held me. He tells me that it is bright in the room and holds his hand over my eyes as he removes the blindfold and just holds me there for a moment, grounding me. He holds me, helping me to a chair, I stumble. He tells me to get dressed and to sit and relax. I sit there staring into space, drinking water, my mouth is dry. I think about the experience in wonder. After a little while he comes over to check on me.

Coming home I look in the mirror to see the marks and smile. I lay down in bed feeling so excited; I could feel the blood rushing in my ears and thoughts flooding my head. I can't wait for the next time I could play.