Sarah K - Bound to Please

So, as I said, Max was a hard act to follow. I had been looking for a new Master for a while – it wasn’t something I planned to rush – when I got a phone call from Maddie, a Dominatrix I had met a couple of times while I was seeing Max. She and her husband liked to get together with other couples for parties and dinners with a strong BDSM element. Hers was a place where birds of the BDSM feather could flock together and play, drink, relax and have fun.

‘So how are things?’ she said after saying hello.

‘Fine –’ I said, not knowing quite how much she knew about Max and me.

‘Great. I’m just ringing to ask if you and Max would like to come to a party –’

I was about to launch into the we’re-not-together-any-more speech when she said, ‘It’s a special party for a special birthday. Although I’m not telling anyone which one. I’d love it if you could make it. I rang Max but I think he must have changed his number.’

‘He has,’ I said.

‘Have you got it?’ she asked. ‘I’ll update my phone book.’

‘I’m afraid not. We split up a little while back.’ I didn’t explain how hard it had been or how messy, but I did say that he had decided to go back to his previous partner.

Maddie was quiet for a moment or two and then she said, ‘I’m so sorry. I thought you two were fab together. So how are you doing?’

Where to begin? ‘Starting over. Looking for someone new,’ I said.

‘So have you found anyone else?’

‘No. I’ve met a few guys but –’ I left the phrase hanging.

‘Well, there you are then,’ said Maddie. ‘Why don’t you come to the party anyway? It would be great to see you. I’m just thinking who I can invite that might interest you,’ she added mischievously.

‘That’s really kind but I’m not really sure about coming on my own.’

‘Oh come on, you’ll be fine,’ said Maddie. ‘I’ll look after you, I promise – and we’ve got some lovely people coming. I think you’ll probably know quite a few of them already. There’s going to be good food, champagne, dancing. And there’s plenty of room for you to stay over if you wanted to have a drink.’ She paused. When I didn’t reply she added, ‘You really should come, Sarah. Where better to find a new Dom than at a BDSM party? Come on, say you’ll come. There’ll be lots of people who’ve come to play and you don’t have to join in if you’d prefer to watch. You know that. And we’ve got some other singles coming. It’ll be a chance to dress up and have some fun.’

I smiled; Maddie was really selling it.

‘Come on,’ she pressed. ‘It’ll be fun.’

Which was why I now found myself tied up in one of Maddie’s bedrooms, with a man I barely knew, but whom Maddie assured me was a complete pussycat. A pussycat with a real gleam in his eye and a tongue that was making every inch of me tingle.

The bedroom Adam and I were in was dominated by a large mirrored wardrobe that ran along one wall and gave a perfect view of what was going on between the two of us. I found myself watching Adam’s attentions as he moved across my body, while feeling his tongue and lips on my throat, and the nip of his teeth. It is odd to see what is going on as well as to feel it, and it added another layer of excitement and expectation, as I became both an observer and a participant. It was compelling viewing.

Adam cupped my breast, nipping the dark peak between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it, tugging at it, while the woman in the mirror, her hands fastened above her head, gasped at the sensation. She looked mysterious and exotic in her mask, her skin slightly flushed, eyes bright with desire, as she moved under Adam’s knowing touch.

I smiled at her and she smiled back.

Adam caught my gaze and nodded. ‘Admiring yourself?’ he said, and then before I could reply, he continued, ‘Why don’t I give you something worth watching?’

He picked up a riding crop from among a selection of toys on a side table and flexed it, bending it into an arc before taking a couple of practice swings to gauge the heft. He slipped off his jacket, took out his cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves and tried again. The shaft cut through the air with a distinctive and familiar sound that made me flinch.

Adam smiled at my reaction and then teased the leather tongue at the end of the crop across my hardened nipples before gently flicking them, making them tingle and throb. Circling me, he stroked down over my ribs with the leather shaft, then my stomach, my waist, up across my shoulders, my back, my bottom, my thighs. With every caress I was anticipating the crack and the sting, not the gentle kiss of its tongue. Its touch, his cool, considered attentions and the waiting made me shiver, made me ache, made me hungry for more, and then finally I closed my eyes, shutting out my reflection, full of expectation for what must surely follow.

Was that the moment Adam had been waiting for, the moment I closed out the world and concentrated on him alone and the crop and what they could give? The moment I surrendered I felt the crop moving away and an instant later the hot wild sting as it found its mark across my back. I gasped, jerking against my restraints, as every nerve ending in my body lit up. The blow wasn’t hard, but it was enough to make me focus on what was happening, turning my eye inward.

Before I could gather my thoughts the crop hit home again. I cried out as much from surprise as any pain, bucking and gasping for air. The stroke was still not particularly hard but it hurt nonetheless; the sensation left me breathless. I had forgotten what being cropped felt like, how sharp and how cruel the feeling, the sensations rippling out like lava from the point of contact. Despite being a subbie I’m not naturally drawn to pain; it is only here in the BDSM arena where I understand that it is a means to an end that is why I seek it out. I am torn between loving and loathing how it feels. The truth is that pain takes me to a place I can’t reach any other way, but even so I find it hard to ride the waves that lead me there.

‘Can you count?’ Adam whispered in my ear as he leant in so close that I could feel his breath on my skin.

‘Two,’ I whispered thickly, my voice almost lost in among the clamour of sensations.

‘Very good,’ he purred, and then I heard the crop cut through the air again and braced myself, knowing what was coming next. The blow was fractionally harder this time, the sensation more acute; I gasped and threw back my head, pulling hard on the restraints.

‘Too much?’ he asked.

‘No,’ I whispered. ‘No.’

‘That’s good,’ he said, and I could hear the delight in his voice, the pleasure and the arousal.

‘Three,’ I said.

I wondered how many strokes Adam had planned. It’s not that I was afraid of not being able to cope – I knew that if it became too much then I could call a halt – it’s just that, as I said, it had been a while and my body had forgotten how intense the crop felt. I knew full well that if Adam could read me, if there was a gentle build-up, the lashes growing in intensity, stroke on stroke, then my body would flood with endorphins so heady and so intoxicating that they are almost addictive. I didn’t want it to be too intense too soon, so that I would feel the need to stop.

The crop hit home again. I gasped and flexed instinctively against the chain.

‘Four,’ I hissed on an outward breath. I could feel my body beginning to embrace the sensation – chasing it, losing myself in it. There is no pretence with pain, no way of hiding from its effects. With my eyes closed tight, each stroke is like an arc of white-hot sparks exploding through my mind, clear as a shooting star.

I realised how much I had missed this, how much I’d missed Max, how much I had missed the ritual and games of BDSM, as well as the intense and heady sensations that the lifestyle brings, and that feeling of being part of something bigger, something special, something all-engulfing.