How I Popped my BDSM Cherry, Part 2

OR A Record of My First Play Session Part 2

Part 1 left our brave heroine in the foyer of a rock pub dive in Hastings, experiencing a knee trembler and a half..

N had to practically carry me along the seafront, as my legs had ceased working completely at this point. My body was almost in meltdown, my brain shut down, my heart wasn't in my mouth, it was located somewhere a LOT lower down...A month of hopes, dreams and desires since I went to my first munch, a month of expectations - what could possibly live up to that kind of build-up?

Here's what lived up to that kind of drum roll: a breathtaking woman, with whom you have chemistry so intense your knickers have spontaneously combusted, shoving you up against the cold cement wall in an underpass, and giving you the kind of kiss that makes you forget your own name but remember you who are.

She took me onto the beach and we walked over the pebbles and stood by the sea. She kissed my mouth, my face, my neck, my throat - her hands touched me everywhere, outside, inside my clothes, burning me in phoenix flame. She told me to sit down and my knees folded before my brain even had a chance to tell them to. She said the next day - 'when you collapsed in my arms I just wanted to rape you there on the beach'. She could have - she could have done anything to me, I would have let her. Her hand on my neck, her teeth in my flesh, her voice, whispering like twisted red velvet ribbon binding my will. No choice, no thought, no past, no future, only now.

I'd planned to get the train home but she insisted on taking me back herself - we got into her car and it took a while to make it onto the road. Everything I am, everything I've become during my life, the power and the control, the choices I've made, the responsibility, the duty I've taken, the decisions, the endless weight of doing the right thing, choosing, choosing...it all falls away, I yield to you, I let go...I don't have to be brave any more...I'm falling, you're catching me, over and over, like a dance...beautiful, graceful, spiritual.

We arrived at my house and I could barely tear myself away although it was early in the morning and I had to get to work the next day. She shoved me up against the corner of the car, her nails digging into my throat, her fingers closing on my neck. I heard myself moan and cry out, I writhed in the seat as if in pain, but it wasn't pain at all, it was something new and different and wonderful and terrible.

I went inside reluctantly and crawled into bed. I hardly slept, I was shaking so much, so cold, I cuddled against my husband, trying to get warm. I kept waking up, shivering, and feeling sick. At first I put it down to considerable consumption of gin, but I'd been relatively respectable with my booze quota. I now recognise it as an intense reaction to the physical and psychological stimulation. Basically, I fancied N so much it made me throw up. As compliments go, it needs some work...

I was climbing the walls with desire to see her again, but I had a holiday to go on. I'd been waiting over a year for this holiday, and I was looking forward to it so much - precious time spent with my husband, the fun of escaping work, everyday life and problems to go away to a little place in the middle of nowhere and snuggle up next to a log fire, what could be better? Work has been tough recently, life has been tough recently, and I'd spent the last few months (weeks, days, hours) saying to myself, if I can just get through this, I've got the holiday to recover in...

But...ARGGH! Although I was somewhere wonderful, with someone wonderful, all of a sudden I didn't want to be in the middle of nowhere, snuggled up against the cold. I wanted to be tied up, beaten and fucked!

My sex drive had gone into orbit and I was practically humping my husband's leg all during our holiday. I was thinking of very little else but sex, BDSM and N, and I felt hugely guilty that I wasn't making the most of the time spent with the man I love most in the world, but at the same time, my world had just collapsed in on itself and reformed with the potential for something AMAZiNG in it.

N and I were sending each other increasingly perverse texts, and arranged to see each other for my first proper play, a week after I came back from holiday. I was sending her messages like 'I'm so frightened of what will happen when I come to yours. Will you hurt me? Will you bruise me? Please?' and she was coming back with 'You can have anything you want. Is that what you want, baby?'. Blimey!

I had so much energy I barely knew what to do with it - I still have, now. I'm sleeping so much less than I used to, which considering I used to put away at least 9 hours a night, is no bad thing. I used to be exhausted all the time - now I'm partying with the best of them. BDSM has brought me back to life. On the last day of our holiday, we drove back for 6 hours, then I dropped off the hire car. Instead of collapsing into bed exhausted, I received a last minute invite from N to share a relaxed evening with her; drinking wine, watching tv and talking crap. I dithered madly - I'd had a long day, was I pushing my luck? Would all my energy disappear? What would my husband think - would it offend him that I went rushing off to be with N the very day we came back from holiday?

My husband said - go, have fun, so I decided - fuck it, I'm going. I was so so nervous about seeing N again. We ate chinese and sat on the sofa, chatting. We were tired, so I didn't have any expectations. But all N had to do was stroke my face and I faded off into contentland. She took me into her bed. It was hard for me to let her see me naked, I was self-conscious and afraid. She said wonderful things to me, she coaxed me into uncurling, she stroked me, she touched me, she made me feel so good. She made me feel beautiful. She let me touch her, too. We woke up naked together and it was tender and sensual and soft and warm.

It was a week until I would see her again, and that would be an experience of an entirely different nature. She had told me if I wanted to have this play, I had to do certain things for her. I had to refrain from having an orgasm all week, and I had to come to her house without any knickers on, and with none packed in my bag. I kicked off several times about both these things, but sulkily submitted in the end. I'd never felt so turned on in my life, without being able to do anything about it, as I had that day when I went to her. I didn't know whether I wanted to fuck her or bloody murder her.

We had both taken the day off work, and so on a friday morning I headed off to meet her at the train station. My heart pounded when I saw her again, and I felt trembly all over. She had told me that it was okay for me to change my mind about playing, I didn't have to go through with it, and that when I came into her house, if I let her shut the front door, we'd have tea, chat about the cats, and I would go home untouched. If I was the one who closed the door, I was hers to do with as she chose, unless I said 'stop'.

I was absolutely terrified. What if I freaked out, what if I reacted to being hurt by getting angry, and slapped her one? What if I said terrible things? What if I had a panic attack? What if, what if, what if?

Once she'd picked me up, we went to visit some friends of hers. We had lunch, we spent a few hours relaxing, drinking tea, chatting. It was a good way to spend time with her while calming down from my initial anxiety. But once we went in the car back to her house, all my fear returned. Every part of me was tense. But I closed the door.

We stood in the hallway and she told me to strip. When I was naked, and feeling vulnerable and exposed, she smiled and said 'imagine if I opened the front door now and everyone could see you'. I nearly flipped, thinking - perhaps she will?! Perhaps she'll shove me outside and close the door? How well do I really know this woman?!

Then she took me upstairs. She bathed me, and took off my jewellery, my make-up, even my nail varnish. Then when I was all clean and shiny and new, she put me over her knee and gave me a disciplinary spanking. It hurt very much, and I didn't like it - or at least, my mind did not. My body ...did. I was worried it would bring up some terrible things - but it didn't. I didn't have space in my head to think about anything else but the pain, and N. Maybe that's why it was so liberating that I cried, and all the pent-up confusion and conflict spilled out.

As the pain from the spanking was fading, a new and far greater pain arrived in the form of nipple clamps. They are evil. I do not like them at all. The pain was so much I felt sick and dizzy. If I hadn't already been so far deep into the headspace of wanting to please N, I would have insisted they come off straight away.

We ate some food and snuggled on the sofa. Then we went upstairs. I felt so scared again. Looking at the cuffs in her hands, I wanted it so so much, it frightened me. I was so afraid she would stop and not continue - I'd do something wrong and it would be over. I felt like my life would never be the same whatever happened. Blindfolded, cuffed to the bed. The most incredible sensation. N only has to touch me, look at me, speak to me, and warmth rushes through me, desire washes down my body. Combine this with being tied up, and it's absolutely incredible. I never knew anything could feel that good. How have I lived until now without it? She could have done anything, anything to me, and I would have been grateful.

She shaved me - and I just melted. She experimented on my body with various sensory play. The ice was painful, but my mind liked submitting to it. The wax was delicious. I had to test, and keep testing against the cuffs, to make sure I couldn't get out. I am certain I could have slipped out of them if I'd wanted to. Next time it needs to be tighter. I want my body to be absolutely at her mercy. Belonging to her as her toy to play with. Her fingers on me - god it's making my stomach drop just remembering.

She called BD in the middle of it. That made me so angry, but at the same time, I loved the attention. I loved thinking that he might imagine what I looked like, cuffed, naked, blindfolded, and maybe think that was attractive. I was yelling 'Fuck off, BD!'. He heard that, swiftly followed by N saying 'Don't say Fuck Off to BD!', then a comedy sound effect of WHACK!, then 'OW!' from me. For some reason he thought this was quite droll. The bastard.

She tried out different toys to beat me with - all of them felt so good. Then she fucked me. It was just so good, it felt so fucking good. Her beautiful body over mine - not being able to see it but feeling her covering me, pressing down on me. Knowing the strap-on was giving her pleasure too while she gave me the most amazing sensations. I think I may go mad if it doesn't happen again - and soon. God, I want her now. I want her whispering velvet voice in my ear, making my body clench. Her fingers in me, touching, stroking, making me feel alive. Her smell, her warmth, herself.

N had made plans to go to a friend's wedding the next day, and had arranged to take me with her, on our way to Tipping the Velvet in london afterwards. I woke up early and couldn't go back to sleep, so dragged myself away from her bed and went downstairs. Fell asleep on the sofa with the cat, and it was a little rushed to get ready and go to the wedding. We still had time to jump in the shower where I had to concentrate on not letting myself become distracted by my soapy N. Mmmmmm. She rubbed body cream into me - no-one has ever cared for me in that way before.

We arrived at the wedding late and gave all the other guests a vicarious thrill by being so openly together. I wanted to ravage her under the table. I wanted her to bend me over the wall by the stream, rip my underwear off and fuck me like I've never been fucked before, like I need to be fucked.

I wanted her to take me into the toilet, kiss my make-up off, and let me slip my tongue inside her while my fingers stroked her clit. But we behaved and were very good. Frankly, I think we deserve a bloody medal.