Doctor Doctor Give Me A Clue

This story is meant to be humorous. It deviates from my previous submissions. It is not meant to be taken seriously at any level and it is not meant to offend any person, persons, or groups or behaviors of individuals or groups. The only exception to this is that of the characters within the story. This story is a parody, "a comment on or trivialization of a subject matter for comic effect." (Webster) It is satirical and mocking in its nature. If you are not a fan or humor, parody, satire, or yes, Dr. Seuss please STOP reading now.

I hope you will find it funny. I'm actually not sure under which category it will be placed at present. Wherever it ends up, I hope you enjoy some portion of it and maybe get a laugh.

Thanks and Enjoy,

Apple

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Let me start off by saying, this is not the best night of my life. Then let me follow up with saying, this is not the worst night of my life either. My play partner and I have been friends throughout high school and college. Two years ago we became friends with benefits. Neither of us had been in any really serious relationship and we were tired of short term relationships and intermittent sex. So when we were talking one night, we decided the best option was to use the tools we had available. We had each other.

We have been friends for a long time and since college we have become best friends. We are comfortable with each other, share a fair amount in common, and respect each other. So sex or at least what we call "platonic sex," is what we refer to when we get together and enjoy each other's company. I know, you are saying what the fuck is "platonic sex?" This moron doesn't know what they're(he/she/us) talking about.

Well, here is this moron's explanation. If "platonic love" is love without the sexual aspects of love, why can't there be "platonic sex?" You know, where you have sex with someone you love as a friend, but don't LOVE as a partner or aren't in LOVE with. You know, lower case love versus upper case LOVE. That should explain it. Don't you think?

I just know that I'm going to see the term "platonic sex" show up in the Urban Slag Dictionary right after this hypothetical fictional story in which none of this really occurs is posted.

Does that make sense? No. Well pretend it does, because it's written and it has to stay there now.

Anyway we have been messing around with light bondage, sex toys and some kinky stuff recently. I know this is a bad idea and not recommended by those who are serious players, but we thought it would be fun, new, and exciting. We both dream about kinky sex situations and decided to experiment. Again, it's one of those things not recommended by those in the know. But as Sister Mary used to say, "Stupid is as stupid does."

Oh, by the way, there are no legal, moral, or ethical disclaimers at the beginning of this purely hypothetical fictional situation which really does not occur in real life and therefore should not be copied by any living creature of any age and any similarity to any situation, person, event, or place is purely coincidental, and all copyrights are reserved, etc..etc..etc.. Basically, this is a fantasy story and should be taken as such with a bit of humor added in to the mix.

Now, that we have taken care of Legal 101, back to the story and "Stupid is as stupid does." Until most recently it has been pretty PG as far as BDSM scenarios go. The last few times, we kicked it up a notch. What started off with some suit ties used to bind my hands or blindfold me and quickly escalated to a pair of handcuffs and a leather face mask. The handcuffs I don't have a problem with, but that leather face mask is uncomfortable and makes me sweat. And I hate when my play partner keeps it zipped for long periods of time. Which really means it stays zipped until someone calls, "cut scene". Does anyone out there actually call "cut scene?" If so, please comment, you know where. Xo!

Once we started purchasing new toys, it became a little game of dare mixed in with the kinky sex. The face mask was replaced with a blind fold and ball gag. That was explained as being for "my personal comfort since I complained about the leather face mask so often." Did I mention how thoughtful my play partner is?

The handcuffs became some rope and no longer were just binding my wrists, but my arms and legs were bound. Sometimes behind me, sometimes in front of me, sometimes up, sometimes down, sometime together, sometimes apart. I thought we were in a Dr. Seuss book for a while. Am I allowed to say Dr. Seuss here? (Psst..Keep it our secret.) My caring play partner explained that it was silk rope and very expensive. It's not supposed to chaff or cut into the skin. Did I mention how thoughtful my play partner is?

Let me tell you something. When your hands are tied above your head, whether standing up, or on a bed. Whether you are tied with pink, blue, black, or red. Oh wait, I'm back in the Dr. Seuss book again. Turn the page if I've lost you or click the button if you don't like this story, it may only get worse. (Please don't write any nasty comments about this Mr. and Mrs. Anonymous. I have yet to read one of your story submissions, so I can't comment on your story telling ability or your grammar skills, but by the content of your ascorbic comments, I would say they are most likely excellent. You know who you are, the ones with the long nails and big nasty teeth.)

Of course, this does NOT apply to all Anonymous posting, most of which have been positive and complimentary! Many of which have been very comforting and positive as they tried to sooth the wounds that their "name sharers" have left. It also does not mean that there is no pleasure in being publically humiliated by a misspelling or the use of an incorrect word. God only knows how much I love that! I hear public humiliation is the "New Orange", which was the new black, but now it's green with envy.

Again, I digress. I'm back to the rope issue. Correction, I'm back to the expensive silk rope issue. As I was saying, being bound is not as simple as it looks in the pictures. Oh Yeah! FYI, not everyone looks so beautiful or handsome as the people in the rope art that I have seen. If they are anything like me, they are also not as limber as the models in the rope art photos. God bless those beautiful women and handsome men. But let's give credit where credit is due. The women are almost always posed and tied in very difficult positions. The men, not so much! I vote for more men being spread eagled and swinging from a sky hook. Press five for yes! Press four for I don't think so!

Anyway, intricate bondage and anything even resembling rope art is beyond the skills of a novice. Actually, it's beyond the skills of the majority of intermediates also. There is a reason it is called an art form. Enjoy watching the pro's do it. It is not something that can be learned by reading place rope A, through loop B, and pull on C, while suspending your partner from the whatever apparatus you are suspending your partner from or to. So, unless you are experienced and by that I mean, have taken lessons from an expert or at least taken tutorials and read extensively on the subject (Maybe even practiced on yourself! No, no, that's a bad idea. Don't do that!) stick to the basics.

No, an Eagle Scout badge for rope tying or knots does not mean you should try intricate bondage techniques or any form of rope art. In fact if you are an Eagle Scout, what are you doing reading this? Click out right now! I mean it, right now!

So, about sticking to the basics, follow that golden rule of yesteryear. "Keep it simple stupid." "No offense meant," that's Northern speak for "Bless your heart" in the Southern states. I'm not sure what would apply outside of the U.S. of A. (Please let me know through the comment section, it comes right after the voting section. Which I'm told is only accepting 4's and 5's at this time.) So, use a scarf, a tie, even a very expensive silk rope. Tie the hands. Tie the legs. Tie them over a door or to a bed post. Even be a little daring and tie the hand to the leg. Hint: It helps if the hand and leg you are tying are on the same side of the body. You know, for when things get a little further along in play. I'm just saying, you know, trying to help avoid any other "wardrobe malfunctions or worse a delay of game." The real point here is "Just keep it simple stupid." If you can't undo it or cut in three seconds or less, don't do it.

Oh yeah, you want to be able to cut someone out of anything you put them into. So, have the appropriate safety equipment available. By available I mean within arm's reach. Not in the kitchen if you are in the bathroom. I know, I could have said bedroom, but that would have been the obvious choice and this is supposed to be kinky. P.S. Safety equipment does not mean a butcher knife. My guess is if you can't undo a knot, you should probably not be playing with knives! Of any size or shape! (I'm still talking about knives in that last line! Dirty minds run amuck!)

So, we decided the bondage issue would stay in the PG realm so that no one got hurt. Once again, by no one I mean me! I know I mentioned how thoughtful my play partner is at least once, haven't I? I think it helps to mention that just in case my computer gets hacked (by my play partner) and this story gets read by the wrong person or persons (my play partner).

So far, we've talked about blindfolds, face masks, ball gags (also not for the faint at heart), and bondage materials. Oh yeah! I have to give special mention to the very expensive silk rope. A must buy at thirty some dollars a yard. I'm just kidding; I have no idea how much silk rope costs per yard. Another thing someone can update us on when commenting you know where. Ok, so maybe I do know close to what it costs, but it was only a little white lie.

Speaking of lying, I understand there is no room for lies when you play in the real scene. Truth is valued more than expensive silk rope. And if you are caught in a lie by, let's say your Dom(me), we'll use that as an all-inclusive term to cover Tops and Masters of both sexes, etc... you could be punished. By punished, it often means spanked! Yes, I said, spanked! Turned on yet? Spanked, spanked, spanked! Now your hot aren't you?

Speaking of spanking, it brings me back to some of the new toys my play partner brought home. In order to move from the PG rated spanking with the hand or the three dollar "Farberware" spatula with the large flat head that covered just the right amount of ass per spank, that's "aps", not unlike "psi" (pounds per square inch) we needed new equipment. Just to clarify I'm talking about measurements here, get you mind out of the gutter, pounds per square inch has nothing to do with the size, shape, or weight of a penis.

Anyway, this new spanking equip is also quiet costly. The crop came in at a nice thirty-five dollars. It could have been cheaper, but the eighteen inch one didn't seem to, and I quote, "feel right in my hand." Ok. So is the longer one going to "feel right on my ass?" or anywhere else? Then of course you can't always use a crop, so we needed a flogger.

The explanation for that is "You don't always want the direct sting and contact of the crop on one area of skin. Besides, a crop is nice but it can be over used." I don't know I never seem to get a chance to use any of it. Maybe it's because I'm frequently tied in expensive silk rope. What do you think?

A flogger didn't seem like a bad idea. I kind of liked the feel of it when we trialed it in the store. It was smooth. It had that sexy leather smell I love. It felt really nice just being drawn along the skin. However, I knew that would probably be the last time I felt it like that. So, we looked at a variety of floggers. There were some really cheap ones for a couple of bucks that you would have to throw away after a few uses so we avoided those.

To my surprise, there are vegan floggers. Of course it is a little confusing to read a sign that says, "Vegan Cat O'Nine tail." I would think if you are advertising the fact that it's vegan, you would avoid the use of the term "Cat O'Nine tail." Come on now, am I wrong? Just stick with flogger. No self-respecting vegan is going to call it a Cat O'Nine tail.

Again, I do not have a personal, ethical, moral, or political view about vegan's or meat eaters. I say if you are over the age of consent and want to put it in your mouth have at it. I'm like Burger King. I believe you should have it your way! Although, now that I'm thinking about it a Vegan/Organic sex shop would be a real money maker. What do you think? Comment section!

Anyway I was informed, meaning told by my play partner, that we needed a well-made flogger that was high quality and aesthetically pleasing. Of course, high quality comes at a price. In more ways than one might imagine. As for aesthetically pleasing, it's not like I get to see it often before I feel it. Yes, the lambskin did feel better than the rawhide but they looked the same to me. The price of our high quality, aesthetically pleasing lambskin flogger came in at seventy dollars. That was after our "AAA" discount. I didn't know I could get a "AAA" discount on this stuff. Did you?

As we entered another room of the store, which was starting to look less like a kinky high end store and more like a leather craftsman's work room, we passed a wall of whips. Even I will admit there is a certain beauty to a whip. There is an excitement you feel just looking at one. A sense of awe in the power they hold. I have a great respect for a whip and a great admiration for a person who handles one well.

Once again, this is not a toy. It is a tool of the trade, but not a toy. It should not be used by the inexperienced or untrained hand. It takes years of experience to use a whip well and with precision. That is why even though they are beautiful and seductive pieces of leather, most people should steer clear of them. I won't even tease about the cost of them, because like the whip itself, it is no joking matter. Not to mention those who are really expert and into the use of whips think of it as a "calling" and treat it almost as a "religion."

P.S. The last person I want to piss off is the Master Whip Experts. Did you read the part where I said I admire and respect you and your talents? If not, it's just up a few lines. Feel free to review it. XO! Now, that I'm thinking more clearly the Master Whip Experts are the second to the last people I want to piss off. The last people I want to piss off are the persons who are not Master Experts and still throw a whip. They are more dangerous.

It took me a fair amount of time to redirect my play partner away from that wall. It was time well spent because I am sure it saved my skin literally and figuratively. It also saved at least five hundred dollars and up to twenty five hundred for the big daddy. Not that we would have ever left there with a whip. Well, we wouldn't have left there together with a whip. I don't care how caring a play partner I have, it wasn't happening.

When we were leaving the back rooms, I chose a hall that did not take us back past the whips again. I mean really, why open the cookie jar once you put the lid on it. Just remove the temptation and forget it.

That may have been my fatal mistake. As we were leaving we passed a rack of canes. They looked harmless enough. They were light. Didn't cost too much and really, how much pain could a little piece of cane cause. So without thought or even trying it out lightly across my own leg, we bought one.

And that my dear friend's is how I ended up in the busiest Emergency Room (E.R) in the City of Brotherly Love and by that I mean Philadelphia. I became a trauma patient by definition. Why a trauma patient you may be asking? Because when you are hit a few times with a cane across your bare back by an inexperienced hand and said cane lands a few too many times in the same area, skin tears. When skin tears it tends to bleed. When it bleeds and you can't stop it after ice packs and such, you start to wonder if you should go to the hospital.

Then you remember that your good friend and neighbor next door just happens to be a critical care nurse. So instead of being embarrassed in front of an entire Emergency Room full of people you decide to call and ask her to come over and check it out. It's much better to have to explain to her and be embarrassed in front of only one person than it is in front of a dozen or more. At least this one knows you.

So, said neighbor and more importantly friend comes over and checks things out. Luckily, she brings with her a travel bag full of medical stuff. I forgot she is a volunteer for a large rescue company. She is an intelligent woman and a highly skilled professional. Thank God she is also open minded and not easily shocked. At least that was my initial impression. I will find out a little differently later. One look at my back and a few looks around the room, noting all of the toys and voila! No explanation is necessary. I told you she was an intelligent woman.

Immediately she assesses the damage to my back. She cleans the area with disinfectant, which by the way is equally if not more painful than the cane was and places some thick white cream on my cuts. After asking me several questions about allergies, medications, and my health history, she nods her head.

Then she calmly and very kindly informs me that she needs to take me to the Emergency Room. She starts off with, "I don't want you to get excited or upset. We see stuff like this every day. I'm not too concerned by the bleeding, that will stop with some pressure and maybe a few pieces of steri-strips. I don't think you will need any stiches, but we'll see."

"I'm most concerned by the fact that you just bought the cane and you didn't clean it before you used it. God only knows how many people touched it or worse and what bacteria are on it. Since it broke skin and you haven't had a tetanus shot in over seven years, I think you should get one. You may even need a few doses of an antibiotic, but we'll see."

As much as you don't want to go and you really don't want to have to explain how you were injured, you decide you have to go after you have more or less ruined three towels and several wash cloths trying to stop the slow leakage of blood. Apparently even "superficial" wounds bleed a lot when the skin is warmed and torn in multiple small areas. It has to do with something about capillary beds. No, a capillary bed is not a kink toy!

So, on advice of my critical care nurse I go to said E.R.

Luckily she makes a call and updates the ER doctor who is a friend of hers of the situation and circumstance. A room is ready and you are in, treated, and out in just over an hour. No hassle, no calls to social workers, abuse lines, cops, etc. All because your friend is a nurse and made a few calls. She also keys me in to a very effective statement that I need to repeat several times while being treated by the doctor and nurse in the E.R. "This injury occurred during CONSENSUAL play."

Did I mention my play partner is a caring person? Held my hand through the whole mess, didn't leave my side for a minute.

As we leave the E.R. my neighbor and new best friend drives us home. She is so kind and concerned that she walks us into the house. Then she shocks the hell out of the two of us. It went something like this.

"Ok you two come here."

We walk into the room we were playing in.

"I have two questions before I start. First question." She looks at the two of us. "I find it hard to believe that I would miss the fact that my neighbors are Sadomasochists, but just in case, let me ask. Are either or both of you Sadomasochists?"

We look at each other, then back to her as we shake our heads.