letting go

Three more months…

His friend had a last minute model cancellation for a photoshoot. Was I free?

He joked that he would pay me with a spanking session.

I got paid. And I got spanked.

Afterward, he pushed me back onto the bed and held himself up over me.

“Did you miss me?” he asked.

My “yes” had the force of an exhale behind it. My eyes teared up.

“What did you miss about me?”

I couldn’t answer him.

“I could fuck you right now,” he said, his hand briefly teasing between my legs before sliding up to taunt my nipples. Every time I yelped, he would squeeze my mouth and bite on my lips.

But whenever he tried to actually kiss me, I could feel myself resisting and I knew he could feel it, too. The back of my head was in his hand. He’d been massaging my neck, rubbing my hair.

“Do you want to hurt me?” he asked.

His hand was at my neck. I braced for a smack. It did not come.

He expressed so much and I felt almost nothing compared to what I used to feel.


Or buried.


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.

dinner and a movie

He is in my thoughts too often.

He asked me to come up for dinner and a movie. I was about to give up trying to figure him out.

Before we left, he spanked me until my ass was warm and told me to go look in the mirror. He knows I take pride in his marks. Beauties.

At dinner, we talked – about our pasts, our parents, spirituality.

He also said that we need more communication regarding our play. He was adamant about making sure that I liked it and that I was comfortable.

I listened and kept my gaze on his face.

Back at his place, I started to get terrible menstrual cramps. He was very sweet about it, massaging my hands and making me some tea.

He confuses me more and more.

“too much is not enough”

When I got to his place, he suggested I take off my dress because he didn’t want to leave yet. I put on a big shirt of his.

He told me to walk the dog. Just as I was. I asked if I could wear shoes. He said no. So I walked her in nothing, but an oversized shirt. Thankfully, it wasn’t too cold and I didn’t encounter anyone on the sidewalk.

As a reward, he spanked me briefly before pressing me down to my knees. I told myself relax, relax.

He smacked my face with his cock in my mouth – twice, then brought me up to his chest. I bit him on the shoulder and tried to slap him, but he grabbed my wrist.

I didn’t have the guts to kiss him after that so I waited.

He held me by the chin and stroked my face. I couldn’t handle it. Wary of more, the anticipation – it was too much. He must have known because he released me and busied himself kissing and nuzzling my cleavage instead.

But we had to stop and get ready.

At the club, we were away from each other for a long time, in conversation with others. He was watching this beautiful woman. I was nudging party balloons on the floor with my stiletto heel while waiting for the cake to be cut. Another birthday.

When I started to make my way toward the patio balcony, he was suddenly behind me, pushing me up against the bar, his hand up my dress.

No words were necessary. I was his.

wanting and waiting

He told me to bend over his bed, chest down. I waited like that while he worked at his computer.

I tried to be patient. To not shift or sigh. To breathe naturally, as if I could do this all night, every night.

I hated waiting and wanting as much as I loved it. I respected it for this.

Finally, he spanked me.

I had to cling to the sheets. I was no good at holding position or at being quiet.

Afterward, my body was warm, my limbs loose with the rush, my head light.

He laughed at me for being in la-la-land and went back to work on his computer.

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.

how it happened

How did it all start?

My heart had gotten broken and it made me reckless. As a result, I did many crazy things – one of which was stripping.

At work, I crushed on another stripper who had a psychobilly look: pale skin, red hair, cropped bangs, glasses, boots, dog collar. When she was on stage, she would smack the inside of her thighs so forcefully that a cracking sound would resonate throughout the club, over the music, the conversations.

Whenever she came on stage, I would shush the customers I was sitting with. They were often inspired by my enthusiasm and would give me money so I could leave her tips on stage.

And then I got spanked. My first time. I wasn’t expecting it.

My ex’s friend had asked to photograph me in lingerie for his portfolio. I had known the guy for some time so I wasn’t apprehensive and I agreed.

For the shots, he asked if he could tie my hands and ankles with nylons. No problem – until he took the opportunity to spank me over and over and over. I was scared, it hurt, I cried out.

Eventually, he untied me and apologized. He said he didn’t warn me ahead of time because he had wanted authenticity for his images. As fast as I could, I got out of there. But strangely – I laughed and cried the whole drive home. It was exhilarating.

Back at work, I told one of the regulars what happened because he had shared with me that he was a submissive. Shortly thereafter, he took me to my first club.