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My First (and second) Bottomings
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Subject: My First (and Second) Bottomings
I don't think it was until I was resting on the carpet, my wrists, ankles,
and neck within 3 inches of each other (and tied that way, too), with him at
my back holding a long, stiff leather strap (which I had seen him use
earlier) that I realized that this is it. I'm going to be
strapped/flogged/whatever you call it. And I looked up at him, said "you
realize that I've never done this before," and laid back down and got ready
....
Well, I'll start at the beginning, or close to it.
I've considered myself a pervert for about two months now. This was based
on absolutely no experience ... I just thought I could enjoy bondage &/| S&M
.... Testing my limits seemed like something I wanted to do ...
I was invited o a weekend-long party this weekend. This was not a
play-party, nor did I particularly expect any playing to happen ... the two
hosts throwing the party are BDSMers, so the general atmosphere which I
expected was something along the lines of BDSM-positive ... certainly I had
some questions I wanted to ask the hosts regarding BDSM (as I said, I'm a
newbie). Friday was fairly cool.
Saturday got interesting at a certain point when my partner was sort of
messing around with another person and very soon found himself being tied
down and collared (he resisted ... I have the teeth marks to prove it ...
(and yes, I was the one pretty much sitting on his back restraining him. I
have no sense of loyalty. Shame on me :) ) ... he was then strapped and
caned by a lovely plastic toy-cane (this, by the way, was my first
introduction to 'The Strap'. It looked rather vicious ... quite a bit more
vicious than the cats I've seen, because it looked so simple, so ...
efficient. Cats, to me, look ornamental. I haven't seen anyone who's
carried one without using it, but they still look ornamental, in the sense
that they have a very appealing visual quality.... the strap, on the other
hand, was not something you'd particularly wear as an impressive toy ...
it's just something you'd use to give pain.)
After this the mood went back to normal (depending on your definition ...
this was not a normal party, thank God :) ) for about 30 minutes, and I was
snuggling with my partner and another person when they suddenly started to
put the wrist straps on me, wearing these rather playful expressions on
their face. Well *shrug* What can I say? I've never tried bondage before, I
figured, "sure, I'll give it a try."
So I ended up with ankle straps, a collar, and wrist straps. Then the
chains and various links came on, and it took me about 5 minutes, I think,
to convince my partner (who was 'dressing' me :) ) that my neck could indeed
be linked to the link that was connecting the two ankle restraints (we had
to use an additional link because the wrists were in the way) comfortably.
Limbreness hath its privileges :).
So I'm laying there, my head at my feet (and I've just now realized how
submissive this sounds), and suddenly realize that this Top is standing
behind and to the side of me, and is holding the strap.
I'm not into a public scene. I wasn't particularly into this Top, even. I
mean, he's a really nice person, and I know he's fairly experienced, but
there was nothing in him that made me go "Oh-my-God I want him to Top me"
like it has in 1 or two other people ... I'm not sure if it was the bondage
or if it was just a mood, but heck ... I wasn't going to resist ...
The first few blows were very light ... I mean, I felt them, but they didn't
hurt.
Then he hit me. I mean, _really_ hit me. And you know, it hurt. It hurt
really really badly, and I flinched, then waited for the next one, and it
hurt ... badly ...
Now, you see, at this point, I was feeling pretty good ... I was still
thinking, and I knew I had overcome my biggest fear WRT S&M: That I'm not
into it ... that I'll get hit once, and I'll turn to my Top and say "Umm,
I'm not actually into BDSM now. Thanks for letting me know. You can let me
loose now."
It's the same fear I had about being intimate with a man ... that I'd find
out I'm not actually bi ...
But I took two strokes, and realized "hmm ... it hurts ... I'm not getting
anything out of it yet ... but I can withstand quite a few more before I
_have_ to stop."
For about five strokes, I think, I was flinching at each hit ... and then,
when I finally let myself relax and lie down, accepting the pain, not
forcing myself to react to it, the pain transcended just mere physical
pain and reached into my brain to flick the on-off switch to the off
position ...
And nothing existed other than the strap and the pain ... I mean, I suppose
I was aware, peripherally, of the top's existence, and of my partner's
existence as his hand rested on my knee or my head or something ... but
those were very peripheral awarenesses ...
The TV was on ... there were people in the room and I think they were
talking. I couldn't hear a word other than what the other two people in the
scene (my top and my partner) were saying, and even those were a bit foggy.
I do remember that at a certain point he asked me if I wanted this and had
to repeat it at least once more before I answered (I said 'yes' ... I would
have said 'yes' to anything he wanted ... ) ... I could have, if I
concentrated hard, felt my fingers, or my arms, or my legs ... but I didn't
want to ...
I remember this one particular moment when I realized I hadn't breathed for
a few seconds, and that I had no wish or urge or need to breath ... there
was no reflex to move my diaphragm, to take a breath ... and I had to
actually concentrate and think "Hmm ... I don't _need_ to breath, but they'd
probably get worried if I didn't. *shrug* Oh well, I guess I'll breath
now," and made the conscious movements to breath.
After (allegedly ... I wasn't keeping count) 15 hard strokes (with several
soft strokes between them) he asked me how I was doing. I didn't care. I
wasn't sure why he cared, but I answered truthfully, along the lines of "I'm
not really sure ... I'll get back to you on that," at which point he told me
he was going to give me 10 more strokes, and that he wanted me to count them.
That's when it got rather hellish ... He, in effect, reached down and
flicked my brain's on-off switch back to 'on' ... Counting it made it rather
significantly worse.
I could have taken quite a few strokes if I wasn't counting them, I think
.... but knowing that I only had (x) more, made the end seem so much more
needed ... I was aching for it to finish, because I knew when it would
finish. Before it, my whole sense of time revolved around the time from the
last stroke to the next ... now that I was counting, I was looking forward
far in the future to the end of the beating. I was having a serious problem
talking by this time, and I'm fairly sure I was crying, or at least
whimpering with tears in my eyes. There was no need or ability to be vocal,
or to scream ...
I was shaking for quite a long time after the scene was over ... I was also
feeling very lethargic, and very relaxed ... I was thankful I was near a
carpeted surface, because I would have plopped on it just as easily (but not
nearly as comfortably) if it was a hard concrete surface ...
When I talked with people about the scene they asked me if I enjoyed it. I
didn't. It wasn't something I enjoyed. It was pain. It wasn't pain for
pleasure, or erotic pain like when my partner bites me. It was just pure
pain for pain's sake ... In order to express how it felt I'd have to use a
different measuring system that is orthogonal to the pain / pleasure / like
/ enjoy scale ... I think it would suffice to say that it was very intense,
and that I plan to do it again ...
About an hour later I left the party for a few hours to visit another
non-play party in the area. I was planning to walk back to the first party,
but met with some acquaintances who came to the second party and were
planning to go from there to the first and offered me a ride. Somehow the
topic of their trunk came up (they had recently purchased a beautiful new
sports-type car) ... The conversation turned to the fact that the person I
was talking with was interested in putting someone in her trunk. Well,
being a gentleman, I volunteered.
This was before I saw the car. This is a good thing, because had I seen the
car, I would have never agreed ... the trunk was just entirely too small to
fit in comfortably.
Anyway, I got into the trunk (somehow) and they closed it (somehow), and
after finding the least uncomfortable position, we started driving (well,
not we ... I was unable to move other than a squirm or so so any semblence
of control I may have felt that would let me say that 'we' drove is
completely false :) ) ... the drive was OK, only minorly uncomfortable, and
the looks they apparently got from other people around them (the trunk lid
is transparent) made it worth it ...
We got to the site of the first party, and she (the female member of this
mixed-gender couple of switches) asked me if it was OK if they went inside
and brought someone outside before they let me loose. Well, I was
uncomfortable, but not significantly so, so I agreed easily, and they left.
It took about 30 seconds ...
And then I realized I couldn't call safeword.
I mean, they were gone, I was stuck in the car with no possibility of
release, and there was nobody around to call safeword to ...
Now, the concept of safeword is _REALLY_ important to me, as it is, I would
assume, to most people in the BDSM community. I wasn't particularly in
danger ... I knew they'd come back fairly soon ... but still, this was a
loss of control of unprecedented levels ... there was no way to stop this
scene ...
And that's when I panicked. Not physically ... I didn't start kicking the
trunk or anything ... but my perspiration rate increased _dramatically_, as
did my breathing rate ... some minor aches and pains (it's a _small_ trunk)
became rather serious ... suddenly, my fingers were cold, my elbow was
seriously hurting, my shoulder felt like it's been pounded with a hammer,
etc ... I also felt that I would have called safeword if I could (though
objectively, I know I wouldn't have) ... it was a rather intense emotional
experience. I'm not sure I _enjoyed_ it, but as with the first experience,
it was intense ... and I think I'd like to do it again (the trunk part sure,
the mindfuck part definitely ... ).
Overall, it was a rather interesting saturday. Ratings:
Bondage: Liked it. Will do it again.
S&M: Will do it again.
Mindfuck: Will do it again.
Yup. It's nice to finally _know_ I'm a pervert :)
-roy
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