After the disappointment of the other day I was well keen to get back on the horse so to speak.
So let me introduce you to ‘chatty builder sadist dom’.
Thanks to fetlife my sex life is healthy, varied and endlessly entertaining. The bdsm community is a thing I love. Like any community there’s always a few odd apples, but I’ve never felt more welcome anywhere than at bdsm events and get togethers.
CBSD and I have been chatting for a week or so, decided we could have a lot of fun together so organised a night in a hotel. We both have housemates that would prefer not to hear him beat me vigorously while I moan like a whore.
We were into things soon after I walked through the door, we’d negotiated previously what would and wouldn’t happen. Then he came up behind me, leant in, whispered in my ear and asked me if I trusted him. Of course I nodded, you can’t really say no in that situation. My inner monologue was somewhat different.
I trust you as much I can trust a stranger I’ve been talking to for a week. That’s why I have to message someone in about an hour to let them know I haven’t been murdered, chopped up into little bits and thrown in the river. You seem like a great guy. But as a woman with two ex husbands it’s safe to say I’m not a great judge of character.
Luckily, he was an ok guy.
You know what I never expect when meeting people from online? I never expect them to be bogans. I always expect them to be similar to me. Lower/middle class, educated and well spoken. You just can’t tell via SMS how someone talks.
Anyway, back to the story. I don’t know how much you know about BDSM, but when you play with a sub or little, providing aftercare is very important. Here’s some things for you to Google –
When you’ve been in a scene quite intense your mind slips into a vulnerable space, and your dom/daddy/top needs to make sure you’re ok and float out of it nicely.
I was promised great aftercare. I love aftercare. Things can get pretty heavy in a scene, and sometimes you need someone to hold onto you until you pull yourself together. I love the scene, it’s amazing, but it’s physically and emotionally taxing. So you want a bit more than a wipe down and a pat on the ass before he goes to make pot noodle and watch rugby. But a girl gets by.
Then came the chatting. He knows a lot of alcoholics. A lot of women are apparently obsessed with him. Most of his family have been in prison. His brother beats his wife. His daughter’s name is heaven spelled backwards…..incorrectly. Did I mention women were obsessed with him? Also, he shaves his entire body. His. Entire. Body.
Bless his little cotton socks, he meant well. But Jesus. I was so glad when we had sex again because it meant he’d stop talking for awhile. After the second session though I was very sure about something.
At some point in his life, a clitoris had wronged him. One had insulted his mother, taken a hit out on his girlfriend or stolen his parking spot at Westfield the day before Christmas.
He attacked the clit with such ferocity I though he might rub it off. Out damn spot! But on the up side, he could find it.
Orgasm count: 0
But a lot of fun was had. We’ll probably play again in the future, as long as he brings his flogger and leaves to pot noodle at home.
Here, for your enjoyment, is a needlessly belligerent octopus.