I played with someone new last Saturday at the private club – a Hot Shot Dom. He was well-known so I thought I was safe, but I could not have been more wrong.

He trailed knives along my skin, lit me on fire, wet and smacked my thighs with metal. He also flogged me with something that left instant welts. I shrieked.

We were not in a private room – several people watched. And it was my first time being completely naked during play.

I passed out while he was choking me and I didn’t think he even noticed. If he had not been pressed against me, I would have crumpled. My arm fell from the chain I had been holding.

I had never passed out before – I didn’t know what was happening to me at first.

The worst part was that he left me alone during subspace – just dropped me and walked away. He was angry that I did not inform him before the session that sex was not a foregone conclusion.

He asked why I didn’t bring up the no-sex factor in the beginning. I told him that I honestly didn’t think sex would come up right away.



Twice in one night. Two different people. With his permission.

The first was with the pro-submissive who had joined us before – Ruby.

She had asked if we could play, but I said she had to ask him. I had never played with anyone else at the club before.

Last time she watched him with me, she told me that she’d wanted badly to kiss me while I was screaming.

This time she did kiss me. A lot. She also spanked me, choked me, pulled my hair, and gave me her nails. Her hands invoked so much sensation. Waves upon waves upon waves. My skin was bright with the heat of it all.

He stepped in briefly to flog me while I was on all fours. In that position, the impact almost felt like a paddling. Afterward, he leaned over and cupped my face. I bit his hand.

All of it was quickly reducing me to nothing but nerve endings. For the first time, I called “enough.”

I was disappointed with myself, but later in the evening, he asked me to Top someone. I didn’t want to admit that I was nervous, unsure, but he knew – he said, “Just do what you do.”

It was exactly what I needed to hear.

He had me Top a man with a foot fetish. I felt a little like a dancer again, all the slow teasing. Controlled.

The man lay down on the floor while I held on to the cross for balance. He was young and handsome, his body long and lean under his clothes.

I pressed one stockinged foot on his chest, testing his muscles, massaging him, seeing how much pressure he could handle.

I also changed it up, tracing my toe around and outside his lips, perching the ball of my foot on his chin, lightly resting my toes on his throat.

I could have gone on forever in that erotic space, outside everything else where time dissolves and anything seems possible.

When it was over, the man could not stop grinning. I enjoyed it, too, particularly the “well done” I got from my (ex) Dom. Still meant everything, really.


At the club, I watched him rig up some rope and a steel bar among the exposed beams.

“That’s for you,” he said.

The contraption left my body free for him to circle and flog in all different directions.

He held a rose before my mouth and told me to bite down on the stem.

Most of the flogging was frontal this time. Since I wasn’t blindfolded, I could see all the people that were watching us, but soon they didn’t matter to me.

Afterward, he guided me to my knees and kneeled alongside me, then held me by the neck and bent me nearly backward. My body was so warm and flexible, he had total control.

The position allowed him to assess the marks on the tops of my breasts and on my belly. I know we made a beautiful shape together, too – we usually received many compliments. I have also seen him with others. He knows what looks beautiful – it is part of his job.

None of that mattered right then, though. At that moment, someone could have killed me and I would not have minded in that least – I was that charged.

I spent the rest of the evening tracing the rose all over my skin.


Raquel wanted to do a roleplay with me at the club. She explained that I would kneel near her anytime she sat. I wouldn’t be allowed to look at her unless she gave me permission and I would have to ask permission to use the restroom, dance, or speak.

The three of us met at her house.

Before she could finish detailing her idea to him, he chided her for not having first consulted him for permission to play with me.

I had thought Raquel was an exception to the rules because they were close. Or had been. Also, she is a woman.

I hoped she didn’t think I was playing games. How stupid I felt must have reflected in my face. I hoped she didn’t feel stupid.

She lifted the moment by asking if they could practice flogging together. Right there.

Per his instruction, I presented myself and they both flogged me while I held on to the arm of the couch.

I caught glimpses of them in pose when I lowered my head. He was behind her, his arms around her.

He had that drowsy look of sensual ease at her neck before playfully going for her earlobe. She protested and told him to save that kind of thing for me.

He asked if I thought Raquel was sexy – I knew he didn’t expect an answer.

Their banter was amusing, but it made it hard for me to get into a flow.

“Whose ass is this?” she asked, directing the question at me.

I didn’t want to say the wrong thing so I didn’t answer, which must have irritated her – she hit me harder.

“The correct answer is: my master’s ass,” she said.

Afterward, Raquel relaxed on the couch and watched me massage him. She’d brought out a small blue bottle of oil and handed it to me.

When I reached his lower back, she asked if I’d done a good job. He told her I wasn’t done and turned over, unbuckling his pants.

I looked at her before taking him in my mouth.

She joined us on the floor and I listened to their kissing and petting while I worked him. Here and there, she caressed my hair.

I knew he wouldn’t finish so I was glad when he eventually pulled me up. It was hard to concentrate. For us both. So many variables.

They argued over whether or not I would let her know that I’d gotten home safely.

When I got home, I messaged her anyway.

He just doesn’t like it when others tell me what to do.


At the club, he looked me over.

“Are you wearing underwear?” he asked.

I nodded.

Once my skirt was off, he bound my boots together and roped up the rest of my body. On went the blindfold.

There were moments when he would tighten the ropes, puppeteering my body. But he hardly came close to me at all.

I was self-conscious. Pathetic, craving him near me. I hoped that he couldn’t tell.

He brushed me with the flogger some and that was tenderness. He had used the crop before that.

When he untied me, he did it slowly, snaking the rope over my skin. But that was it.

I hated panting after him, begging for his attention.

Clearly, he no longer considers me a challenge. And he has others.

Something tells me he wants to end it, but he is hesitant because I am so sweet and accommodating. I just try to make things easy and clean.

I should cut it off before my feelings get too hurt.

play party

Raquel and her foot slave invited me to a massive play party.

The space was beautiful. Four stages, two dance floors, colored light everywhere.

My Dom had to work one of the stages.

I was overwhelmed by all the costumes, the music.

Thankfully, Raquel gave me something to do. She instructed me to give her foot slave a lap dance. I didn’t feel confident, but I did it anyway. He was very handsome so that helped some.

Afterward, she instructed him to rub my feet, and also to kiss my legs wherever she placed the tip of her riding crop.

My Dom mostly ignored me. He’d only briefly glanced over while Raquel’s slave and I were working each other.

Earlier, when she had asked him if he liked the outfit she’d picked out for me, he told her it was something she would wear.

We watched him play with a very thin woman whose body moved as if begging for it. He whacked her ass so hard. Solid. And he used two different sets of floggers on her.

Her date was sitting in the chair across from them the entire time. I wondered what he was thinking, feeling. Was he jealous? Aroused? Both? Neither?

Later in the evening, I couldn’t find Raquel so I asked my Dom if he knew where she’d gone.

He grabbed me by the hair and said, “There is something you’re not understanding.”

The fear was instant and cold, but it felt like it could split me open.

He forced me to kneel in a chair, wedged his thigh between mine, and spanked me while he held my hair.

When Raquel returned, he had me tell her that the three of us were going to play.

With her slave’s help, she latched me to a cross. The blindfold was loose, but she said not to worry about it.

I couldn’t relax my breathing.

She was gentle – scratching her nails up and down, pressing her lower body into my backside.

She asked if I was wearing underwear, if I was shaved or waxed, if I would be okay with her pulling up my dress.

The snap of a bullwhip from another scene made me jumpy.

She fed me an ice cube and slipped another one into my underwear, but I didn’t have time to appreciate the sensation. She was gone and he was there and I was screaming.

He hit harder than he ever had been before.

I got used to it enough to stop screaming, but after awhile, I couldn’t stop my body from quivering.

He and Raquel uncuffed me and unzipped my dress until it was off entirely.

He made sure my blindfold was on well, tied my arms behind my back, and bound me – neck to crotch – to a horse.

The feeling of vulnerability escalated beyond what I could handle. I grit my teeth in resentment.

Some woman started stroking me. I knew it wasn’t Raquel. This woman squeezed my breasts and pinched my nipples. Started rubbing me through my underwear.

He whipped my breasts, my thighs, slapped my face.

I heard Raquel tell him that she needed to get some air.

When it was over, he told the other woman to untie me. It took awhile because she stopped to hug me again and again, trying for aftercare.

Once I was free, I took off the blindfold and glared at him.

He smiled.

Then he told me to approach these two women to ask if they liked my “show.”

With or without clothes?

“Just as you are,” he said.