“How about a flogging?” he asked after we had taken a trip around the ginormous dungeon space.  He had given me the taste of the flogger before – and each time I loved it.  So, I agreed rather readily.  

He glanced around the space to see if he could find an appropriate place, then took my hand and led me to a St Andrews Cross.  I was excited – I wanted to play – and the energy of the room was good – the music, the people, the lights, my date – yes, I wanted this to happen.

He helped me up onto the platform, then opened his bag.  He took out two bundles of rope and began the process of binding each wrist with one end of the rope leaving the other end free for now.  And once each end was bound, he turned me around and tied me to the rings on the cross – arms spread.   His hands were on me as he did it.  When he was done, he moved my hair to the side then asked me in my ear – “how are you doing?”  “Good” was my easy reply.

His hands were on my body again as he slowly started taking off my corset caressing my skin as it was exposed.  Then, he moved down to my skirt – unzipped it, then had me step out of it.  I was left tied to the cross in my stockings and black heels.

I felt him leave me and return to his bag.  The music and excitement was pulsing through my body as I was left there to wiggle – waiting for it to begin – as I swayed to the beat of the music.

He brought the flogger to my back – caressing my skin with his sensually – like he was introducing me to it and it to me.  The response simply made me wiggle more – moving to the music.

The first strikes with the flogger simply awoke my skin. They felt like light touches on my back and ass and thighs.  The rhythm of his strokes combined with the music made me simply wiggle and sway as he did it – like I was dancing to the flogger.  I loved the sensation.

He paused for a moment and I felt his breath on my neck near my ear “how does it feel?”.  “Great” was my simply response.  Then he left me again and resumed his pattern of strokes of the flogger on my back.  It started feeling more like a good massage – as he changed the pattern and the strokes became more thuddy.  I moaned as each one hit my body – savoring the sensation – and  moving along with the feelings.

Suddenly, he landed one that pushed that pleasure-pain boundary.  The stroke’s initial sting dissolved into pleasure quickly as he delivered the next one.  After several, he came up and stroked my back asking “how are you doing?” “Good” was my simple response.

And I was good. It felt like a good strong massage – like it was working out the kinks in my body. I savored the sensation as I felt my stresses rapidly leave my body as he found his rhythm each time he would resume.

This pattern continued. He kicked up the strokes of his flogger – intermingling the harder strokes with the more gentle in a rhythm.  I was feeling great…

…..until I was not.

I noticed that I had stopped moving – wiggling to the music.  I was leaning more against the cross – my hands were on the ropes.  And the flogging stopped as suddenly as I had.

“Are you still okay” was the voice in my ear.

“No, I need down – now.”

I was crashing.  I was hot. I was overloaded. The endorphins. The music. The noise. While I was feeling good – while I was not hurting in a bad way but in the nice way I love – my body was giving me the big fuck you.  My body didn’t care about how I felt mentally.  It was done and was going to make sure I got that message whether I liked it or not.  I needed out of that space – now.

His hands moved quickly as he unknotted the ropes from the rings on the cross.  And once free, I had to get out of there – I had to get away from the beats and the noise, so I headed for the door with ropes still attached to my wrists.

I’ll be honest in saying that I have no idea how I got from where we had been scening to the curtain where the door was.  The moment I got on the other side of the curtain, I had to sit down because I felt like I was going to fall down if I didn’t.  I slumped against the wall and put my head between my hands forcing myself to breath.

He was right behind me – closer than I realized and sat down right in front of me – keeping people between me and him.  I had no idea if he did it intentionally, but I liked it.  He started talking to me.  Apologized that he was going to leave me for a second to grab some water saying to himself almost that he should have had some on him already.  He placed his shirt around my shoulders and left to get some for me.  I sat there just trying to come down from this overload – breathing – focusing on it all. I tried to force myself to ride the waves of emotion and sensation and everything that had washed over me – trying ride it instead of fight it.  What seemed like seconds later, he was back handing me water which he told me to drink – and I did as I was told knowing it would help.

I don’t remember him removing the ropes from my wrists.  I know he made them go away.  He then pulled me into him and started holding me.  Knowing me, I probably apologized.  I don’t recall much of what I was saying at that point.  But, he remember he kept checking in – kept me close – and got me to a point where I could stand up and go all the way out the dungeon area.

We found a spot to sit, and I curled up against him. He continued giving me the after care I needed.  I could tell at this point that I had freaked him out.  This doesn’t happen to me often – a situation where I can’t power through it – but instead fall flat showing weakness.  I came down from it all, and we started talking a bit more.  We talked about what led up to the crash.  We discovered we both had jumped into doing this without really laying groundwork.  I mean, this was my first public scene in a dungeon – not simply public sex which I’m an old hand at.  Also, that kind of flogging was new for me too. While he had used a flogger on me before, it was never in this way.  We talked through it. I’m sure I apologized some more because it is my way.  And he kept checking in with me.  He took care of me until I was able to go back inside the dungeon to get dressed.

I recovered from it all. We wandered around waiting for our next planned activity of the night.  I continued to hydrate and tried to get some sugar into me.  The dungeon made it easy for me to do both. He kept me close – he continued to take care of me.  And kept checking in to make sure all was well.  When I went off alone to get water, he almost came and found me when an impromptu conversation kept me from returning.

The night ended on a high note as our planned fun went off without a hitch. We went home sort of in our own heads having had a decent night.

The next day, he went to the classes with his wife. I went with the family to taekwondo testing.  And despite the fact we woke up in the same house, we never had a chance to talk or debrief after the night.  When we met up later, I took him aside so we could talk.  I was honestly stressed about the night. I wanted to be a good date – I wanted to play again, but I was, to be honest, gun shy.  I did not want a repeat of the night before.

Dialog and communication are always harped on – even by me – when it comes to having an open relationship.  I usually go on about it with regards to the primary partner – the spouse.  What I learned this weekend was how important it was to have it with a play partner – especially kinky ones.

When I told him I wanted to talk about last night, he immediately said he wanted to as well.  He had been thinking about it – and talking about it – and wanted me to know that I did nothing wrong.  We were in a situation where the sounds kept him from being able to communicate clearly.  Add to it, there was the distance for him administering the flogging. That created even less of a connection – a connection that is necessary to ensure this stuff doesn’t happen.

I reassured him that I felt he did great in terms of reading my body language – knowing I was in trouble at pretty much the same time I knew.  He apologized for not moving fast enough – I thanked him for moving fast enough. It was kind of funny how the things he worried about doing wrong; I found he did right. 

I told him I was gun shy about the upcoming night. I was worried I was going to be a bad date.  Going along with him to the dungeon party only to not do a scene with him.  He assured me I was not going to have a bad night – he already had a plan.  A plan that would make sure this didn’t happen again.

It’s funny how with a little communication things turned around for me. My anxiety about the night was replaced with excitement again.   I went into the night relaxed – feeling like he was going to take care of me.  If anything, I stressed a bit about what to say to the guy who wanted to scene with me that night.  He and I are just getting to know each other, and given the night before, I was worried he may not spot the warning signs as well as my date did.  In the end, it was no big deal. His dance card was full.  And I enjoyed my night without the stress.

I am very lucky to have my friend as a play partner. And I am grateful his wife let me experience the weekend with him as my date. A night that could have ruined my weekend was turned around quite easily because of our friendship – because he knows me better than just in a scene.  While I know that has created some of its own issues at times,. I’m quite lucky to have him as a friend.

Thank you, sexy.