Category: Fantasy

After: Chapter 1

One Year Later…

She wouldn’t have remembered that this was the anniversary except for Facebook.   But the memory popped up on there, “One year ago today…” and there was the image she posted that day.  It read:

She stood in the storm 
and when the wind did not blow her way, 
she adjusted her sails.

She smiled, thinking about her feelings the day her relationship with Don had ended, and the way her life had changed since then.  She had missed him more than she expected to, missed their friendship.  He had been a comfortable companion, and she was lonesome sometimes.

But when he messaged her about 6 months after he’d moved out, messaged her trying to start a conversation, she’d been cool and distant.    After all, they weren’t really friends anymore.  Friends didn’t sneak around and have romantic relationships behind your back, then up and leave you without warning.

Apparently the fires had cooled with Little Tootsie.  Don was lonesome.  Not happy.  He just wanted to see her, just wanted to talk.  She turned down three invitations – dinner, drinks, and coffee – before he told her that he had been hoping they could – how did he put it?  Take another shot at it?

No.  That was not happening.  And she’d told him so, gently but clearly.  And that had been the end of that.

She thought that had been the end of her connection to the world of kink too.  Well, not completely the end of her connection, because she still knew people involved in the lifestyle, Doms and subs and switches, furries and littles, people practicing all the variations of BDSM.  But now she wondered if she’d end up more involved than she ever had been.

She and her friend Connie had been having coffee last week when Connie said, “You’re still building up your coaching business, aren’t you?  Still taking new clients?”

“Yes,” Ada said, “I’m doing ok, but I’m always open to new clients.” 

“I think you ought to go talk to Josh at the club.”  “The club” was the local venue for kink play, also known as “the dungeon.”  Ada knew Josh, the owner, but not well.

“Talk to Josh?  For what?”

“Last night,” Connie said, glancing around the coffee shop to make sure no one was listening, “He was telling me that he’s having a lot of trouble with the staff.  Lots of arguments – just stupid stuff.  People on the day shift accusing the night shift of not doing their sidework, night shift complaining about the day shift not filling the salt shakers – just stupid stuff. 

Ada laughed, “You can’t have a day shift and a night shift without some of that.   How is this different?”

“I don’t know,” Connie said.  “I guess maybe there’s more to it than that.  All I know is what Josh was telling me last night.  He said he was thinking about hiring a mediator or something, someone to come in and get them to all start working together, like a team instead of like enemies.  I told him he needed a life coach, someone that understood people and communication styles and all that stuff you do.  In fact,” Connie looked at the table, picked up her spoon a bit nervously, then put it back down, “In fact, I might have said I had a friend who was just the person he needed.”

“You did what?” Ada asked.

Connie glanced back up at Ada, trying to gauge her friend’s reaction.  Was relieved to see Ada smile.

“Um, I told him I had a friend who could help him sort out his problems with the staff.  I told him you had lots of experience working with teams of people who weren’t getting along, and I told him that you were – well, I didn’t tell him you were a sub, but I told him you were familiar with the lifestyle, I said that part of it wouldn’t be an issue for you.” 

“Oh.  Oh, my.  Well, that’s certainly interesting.  And pretty cool, really.  Yeah, actually, that sounds like it would be blast.  The more Ada considered it, the more exciting the possibility sounded.  “Thanks, Connie, that’s awesome!  Did you give him my number, or what?”

“No,” Connie bit her lip, “I told him I’d talk to you and you’d call him.  I hope that was ok.”

“Sure – of course – yes!  I can do that.  Thanks for telling me about it – thanks for telling him about me.  That’s pretty cool, actually.  I’ll call him today.” 

Ada was intrigued, and a little bit excited.  It had been years since she’d been to the club, but just thinking about it brought back such rich memories.  The sound of leather landing with a THWAP.  The sights – naked flesh, spanking benches, the St Andrews cross at one end of the room.  Memories of the times she’d been tied to the cross, flogged.  The screams and moans and…

“Ada?”  Connie’s voice brought her back.  “Are you ok?”

Ada shook herself a bit.  She felt like she’d slipped into a dream for a second there.  Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.  But – but it sounded like fun.

“No, yes, I’m fine,” she said, realizing that Connie was waiting for her answer, looking at her anxiously.  “I just – gosh, it’s been a long time since I’ve even been in the dungeon.”

“Yeah,” Connie nodded.  “Seems like you quit going right after you met Don.”

“I did.  Don wasn’t interested in public play, or the community for that matter, and I was so happy with him at first that I didn’t even miss going to play parties and stuff.  Then when things changed between us, I just dealt with that, I didn’t even think about going back to the club.  Now, it’s been so long, I don’t even know if I’m submissive anymore.”

Connie shook her head, “I don’t think that ever changes.  It’s like a time bomb inside you, just waiting to get activated.”

Ada thought about that as she looked in the mirror.  She was almost ready for her first meeting with Josh.  As a life coach, wearing a business suit wasn’t part of the drill.  She could wear black skinny jeans and a tunic every day of the week if she wanted to.  But today she’d dressed up just a bit.  A black skirt and purple sweater, with her black boots.  At 61, she wasn’t wearing 3 inch heels anymore, but they were cute boots anyhow.  And purple was still her color.

She’d let her hair go gray, and it curled softly.  It was in the sweet spot of a perm, not too curly, not getting ragged and frizzy yet.  Maybe she’d dye it purple, or get some streaks anyhow, but for now, this worked.

Josh had sounded carefully interested on the phone.  Not ready to commit to anything – and of course not, why would he?  But interested in talking about what was going on at the club and what he thought he needed. 

So – car key.  Purse.  Jacket.  Bottle of water, and out the door.  “It will be interesting to see what happens,” Ada told herself, adding, as she usually did, “Whatever happens, it’s gonna be ok.”

 

After: A BDSM Fantasy

Introduction

He had left her.  Ada didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.  This was totally unexpected.  Not all bad, of course.  Not all bad.  Financially, she would be ok.  They didn’t have children together, so that wasn’t an issue.  Her children, both grown and on their own, might miss him at Christmas and birthday get togethers, but they could always befriend him if they wanted to.

She would miss the companionship.  He was pleasant to be around, and he had seemed to care about her.  She had even adapted to his medical issues, had gotten used to physical intimacy being rare.  There had been a couple of years when she had struggled with it. Tried to renew the intimacy, re-find some of the passion of the early days together.   And occasionally, it looked like it was going to work.  But in the long run, it didn’t, it petered out again, (a phrase that always made her giggle, and then feel embarrassed at being that silly.)

A 30 year old.  He had left her for some little tootsie half his age.  Apparently, the combination of wide-eyed hero worship and perky tits had heated his blood enough to inspire some passion. 

Ada had been mildly irritated to see their text message exchange, popping up on his phone unexpectedly.  She would have been open to him having an affair, would have been fine with an open relationship.  But Little Tootsie wanted more.  Ada shrugged.  Whatever.  Little Tootsie was welcome to him.

Ada was already 60, the passions that drove her in her 40s and 50s no longer seemed pressing.  She was going to be content living on her own.  With a few good friends, a cat for company at home, lots of interests, and a career she enjoyed, it would all be good. 



Things I forgot…

I forgot how much i love this song:

In case you can’t see it, or it won’t play, it’s Bob Marley doing Three Little Birds.  “Don’t worry, ’bout a thing, cause every little thing, gonna be alright…”

I forgot how much more fun it is to do dishes and other mundane chores when listening to reggae.  And –

I forgot how much better i sleep if i give myself a little orgasm before I go to sleep.  I mean, I have my Magic Wand next to my bed for a reason.  But too often, even when i’ve kind of revved myself up a bit before I lie down, i still fall asleep about as quick as my head hits the pillow.  Y’all, even using the wand begins to feel like a chore.  Silly, because –

I forgot how damn easy it is to have an orgasm.  I mean, a quick fantasy –

“But it is time,” he says.  Firmly.  Gently, but firmly.  “Go ahead and pull up your skirt and pull down your panties.”

i don’t want to do this, i don’t.  And yet the thought of doing it makes me shiver with anticipation, and i know that if i touched myself, i would be wet.  So i do it, i pull my skirt up so my ass is exposed and tuck it into the waistband before he even tells me to.

i hook my thumbs in my panties and pull them down to my knees, widening my stance so the panties stop there.  He doesn’t need to tell me to do that, i know what he wants me to do.

i’m facing the corner already, i can feel him behind me.  “Step back,” he says, “two small steps back.”

i step cautiously, not sure if i’m going to bump into him, but he steps back too.  “Now,” he says, “both hands against the wall.   That’s it.  No, bend your arms, I want you leaning forward.  Push your ass out more.  That’s it.  Offer me your ass.”

It’s just a bit awkward, and definitely humiliating.

“Get comfortable,” he says, which makes me roll my eyes.  “Once we get started, I’ll want you to hold your position.  I don’t want you wiggling around.”

“Yes, Sir,” i say, and i do shift my weight some to make sure i’ll be able to maintain the stance.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Yes, Sir,” i say, making sure my tone is pleasant and cooperative.  i don’t like the consequences when i forget to do that.

“We’ll start with the ruler,” he says and there is no time for breath before it lands, hitting both cheeks hard.   The second  blow is lower, the third lands above the first one.  i’m gasping already, the stinging burn driving away all thought, filling my world.

***********

In the meantime, the lovely wand pressed to just the right spots, one hand on a nipple, and that’s all I need – that scenario – and Whoosh!!   A lovely little orgasm that leaves me more relaxed than i’ve been in days.

Thank you, universe.  I’ll try not to forget!

 

 

 

But I Don’t Want To

“But i don’t want to, Sir,” i say, and even i can hear the whine in my voice.

He nods, his eyes moving across me, taking in every aspect of my naked body, kneeling in front of him.  “Are you safe-wording?” he asks.  “Cause I’m pretty sure that “i don’t want to, Sir” is not your safe word.”

“Noooooo.  No, Sir, I’m not.  I will do it, you know i will, if you insist.  I just – i don’t waaannnt to.”

He nods, “That’s ok, silly girl, you don’t have to want to.  You’re welcome to tell me how you feel, but you don’t get to decide what you do or don’t do.”

I hate that those words go directly to my pussy, which heats and throbs as if he’d just touched me.  i don’t get to decide.  That feels like such a gift, and yet it can be so hard to obey.

“I can help motivate you,” he says, “I don’t mind.”

“Oh – oh, Sir, um, no, Sir, that’s ok, i don’t need help getting motivated, i promise,” but i can tell it’s too late.  He’s opening the drawer of the little end table next to him.  i close my eyes, but when i open them he’s holding the nipple clamps.  The ones i hate, of course.

“Pinch your nipples, please,” he says.  “Go ahead, get them good and hard.”  My belly clenches, pussy throbs, and still i look at him with what i hope are sad eyes pleading for mercy.

He laughs.  “That’s five with the riding crop,” he says, “Come on, girl, pinch those nipples, get them ready for these.”

I obey him then, of course, five with the riding crop is a lot, and as i pinch and tug my nipples, my pussy responds more.  I think i’m so wet i’m going to leave a puddle on the floor.

He puts them on quickly, the frigging clover clamps, and attaches a weight to the chain that dangles between my breasts.   I whimper – it hurts most when they first go on – and when they come off.

“There you go,” he says.  “I know this might feel like I”m punishing you, but that’s not the point.  The point is to help you feel your submission.  I want you to move into that space of awareness of who you belong to and how willing you are – even eager – to do what I ask of you.  Am I asking you to do anything that will harm you?”

“No, Sir,” i say.  My nipples are beginning to hurt a bit less, still throbbing but becoming numb.  He knows this too well, leaning forward, he tugs gently on the chain, causing fresh pain to radiate through both nipples. i cry out.

“Thank me,” he says.

“Thank you, Sir,” i gasp, and discover that i mean it.  He nods.

“Are you ready for those clamps to come off, girl?”

I am and i’m not, because that’s going to hurt all over again, and i’m feeling just submissive enough to say, “Whatever you want, Sir.”

“Good girl,” he grins and things fall into place for me.  Why am i even making a big deal out of this?  I do love pleasing my Sir, and it’s not that much to ask, what he wants me to do.

He stands, moves to the back of the room, and takes something off the table.  I know it’s the riding crop, so i’m not surprised when he comes back to his place on the couch with it, tapping the palm of one hand.   His voice is even more gentle now.

“I’m going to take the clamps off,” he says, “and then we’ll wait about a minute for the pain to ease up.  When I tell you ‘down,’ I want you to bend over, arms in front of you, face to the ground, so your ass is raised high for me.  Clear?”

“Yes, Sir,” i say.  My whole body is alert and ready to obey him.

Clamps off – OH!  Oh, oh, oh, oh!!  As the blood flow rushes back into the nipples, the pain is almost overwhelming.  I want to grab my nipples, hold them, rub them, but i know better.

“Put your hands behind your back,” he says.  Quickly, i do as he says, although this not only thrusts my breasts forward, it seems to increase the pain.  “Good girl,” he says, “I love the way you’ll take the pain for me.   I love that you use the pain to submit and be my good girl.  Now, down.”

Glowing with the praise, i move my arms in front of me, lower my forehead to the ground, raise my ass.  I feel myself relax, open to the pain that’s coming.

The first slash, in the middle across both cheeks, is a shock.  i had decided not to scream or cry, but i knew right away that this was a lost cause.  The second one lands across my sit spot and my right knee raises off the ground, as if that would help me escape.

“Hold still,” he says.

The third one lands across the back of my thighs and i cry out, i can’t help it.  But i hold still.  He is waiting between blows to allow time for the pain to sink in and be absorbed.  I wish he would just get it over with.

The fourth lands across my cheeks again, crossing the welt left by the first one so that a point of extra pain blossoms in the intersection.  i am crying,

His voice is soothing, “I know it hurts, just one more, you can do it, and then we’ll be done.”  He moves to the other side of me, the crop falls a fifth time, managing to cross at least 3 of the welts already rising on my butt.  I rock on my knees, a sob escapes me.

“There you go,” he says, “all done, come here now, come here to me.” He sits on the couch, i raise up and move toward him, still on my knees.  He pulls my head into his lap, strokes my hair, wipes the tears off my face.  He rubs my nipples, which are still tender, and traces the welts on my ass with his finger.

He slides his thumb in my mouth and i suck gently.  I move my head as if i would put my mouth on his cock, but he stops me, taking my hair in one hand to hold me still.  “Not now,” he says,  “now it’s time to do what i asked you to do in the first place.”

“Yes, Sir,” i say, and i’m glad that i sound eager.  “Naked yoga, coming up.”

Watch This – Dungeon Fantasy 1

“Do you wish it were you?” he asks.

Without taking my eyes off the scene unfolding before me, i shrug.  “I dunno.  Maybe.”

“Is that how you answer me?” he asks, and there is laughter in his tone, but also a sharpness that had not been there before.

i turn to look at him.  “I’m sorry, Sir,” i say quickly.  “I – i really don’t know if i wish that was me.  Maybe, but I’m not sure, Sir.”

He nods, “That’s a better answer.  Let’s watch here a few more minutes, then we’ll move to something else.”

I turn my attention back to the woman in front of us.  She is at one of the stations in the dungeon, on her knees.  A man is fucking her from behind, another man is seated in front of her and i know she is sliding her mouth up and down his cock, although all i can see is the rhythmic motion of her head.  We are close enough that i can hear her moans, slightly muffled by the cock in her mouth.

The man next to me fists his hand in my hair, holding my head in place.  A whimper escapes me.  “What do you think you might like about that?” he asks.

“Oh,” my mouth suddenly so dry i can barely speak, “oh, i think, i think it would feel very -” i lick my lips, “very , um full.”

He releases my hair and offers me a glass of water.  “Drink.”  He holds it to my lips – well, I could not have taken it since my hands are cuffed and attached to the belt around my waist, so he holds it to my lips.

I drink, gratefully.   And remember to say,”thank you, Sir,” when he withdraws the glass.

“I think,” he says, “that it would feel more full if she also had a butt plug in her ass.  Keep watching her – don’t you think that would be even more full?”

“Ye-yes, Sir,” i say and my voice is shaky.

“Have you ever done that?” he asks.  “Been filled in all your holes at the same time?”

“No, Sir, i haven’t.”  i am shaking my head too, “no, Sir.”

“Well, not yet,” he says, and i hear the smile in his voice.  “Do you think you will – do you think you would like it?”  And then he adds, “‘I don’t know’ is not an acceptable answer, girl.  I’m asking if you think you would like it – obviously either way your answer might be wrong.  What do you think?  Would you like to be fucked with a butt plug in your ass and another man’s cock filling your mouth?”

i don’t think i can answer, but i remember to turn and look at him.  There is something about his face, his eyes on me with such curiosity, and so i say, “yes, yes, Sir, i think maybe i would.”

And then i’m embarrassed – i wish the floor would open up and swallow me, i can’t believe i just said that and what kind of person would even think they might like that, much less say it out loud?  But he smiles and says, “Good girl,” and all the shame slips away and i smile back.

“Thank you, Sir,” i say, and he nods like he understands why i would say that.

“Come on,” he says, “let’s go see what you might like in the way of being spanked.”  He stands, and i manage to stand too, although i’m a bit wobbly, between the heels i’m wearing and my hands being secured at my sides.

I’m wearing a corset that raises my breasts, as if offering them, and it’s obvious through the sheer material of my dress that my nipples are hard.  He glances at them and grins.  Bring his hand up toward my right nipple, coming closer as if he might pinch it, or flick it.  My nipple tingles, getting harder, anticipating the touch.

He stops.  His hand stops, a breath away from my nipple.  “Do you think you would like it if I touched your nipple?”

i swallow, barely able to breathe, looking at his hand, still so close to my nipple which is  poking at the material of my dress like it’s inviting him to play with it.  “Yes, Sir,” i say, swallowing hard again, “I would like it.”

He smiles, and drops his hand.  “Good girl,” he says, and i almost whimper again, with desire and longing.

“Follow me,” he says.  “See if you can stay just a step or two behind me.  I think Ms. Constance is going to start her caning demonstration in a minute.  I don’t want you to miss that.”

“Yes, Sir,” i say, following behind him like a baby duck, trying to stay close enough without actually stepping on his heels.

The Fantasy Begins II

Check-in is smooth, and the room is nice.  i like having a microwave and refrigerator, even if i probably won’t use them.  I set my suitcase on the ottoman and open it, ready to unpack.  But i pause – what did the text say?

Glancing at my phone – oh, yes.  It’s pretty clear.

When you get to your room take off your clothes.  Then text me.

It doesn’t say anything about settling in or unpacking.  i slip off my shoes, always a pleasure.  Then my t-shirt.  i hesitate with my hands on my waist, ready to pull down my black capri pants.  The sliding closet doors are mirrored, i can see my reflection. In my not-fancy black bra and pants, thicker through the waist than i want to be, i look at myself.

i want to hurry up and get undressed.  i want to do what he said.  But i stop to look at myself in the mirror, at my eyes.  They are hazel, more green than brown tonight.   “Do you really want to do this?” i ask them.  Raising my eyebrows, feeling the question.  Then i grin.  “Yep.”

And i finish stripping.

Naked, i pause.  Ok, now i’m supposed to text him – text him what?  I start punching in letters –

“i’m nak

and then i erase that, he said text him, he didn’t say i had to announce i was naked.

 “Hi!”  🙂

i wait, gazing at my phone.  And wait.  It seems like forever, a minute passes.  A bit more.  i text again:

“I’m in the room now.”

And i wait.  Damn it.  Why isn’t he answering me? Am i supposed to do something else?  Should i just go ahead and start getting ready?  Why is he taking so long?  Damn it.  Maybe 5 minutes have actually gone by, it feels like for-ev-er.  i can’t resist.

“I took off my clothes.  What am i supposed to do now?”

I have barely hit “send” when my phone rings – but it’s not the phone, it’s Facetime. Omg.  This man i’ve never met wants to Facetime with me while i’m standing here naked.  i hesitate -but just for a second.

i answer the call.  “Hello,” i say, and my voice sounds uncertain to my own ears.  He’s looking at me, the face i’ve gotten to know on my screen.  He looks serious.  Intent.

“Three minutes,” he says.  “You waited three minutes before you had to text again.  For the third time.”  He voice is low key, he’s not upset, he’s just noticing.  Just letting me know.

i’m a little bit embarrassed – “It seemed like a long time,’ i say, and then, with less certainty, “i didn’t know what you wanted me to do.”

He grins, “And couldn’t wait to find out.  That’s ok.  You agreed to follow my directions tonight, are you still willing to do that?”

“Yes – yes, of course i am,” enthusiastic now, i’m ready to take action, ready to please.  Just don’t make me wait around for 3 minutes!

“Then let me help you learn some of the patience you’ll need to be able to please me,” he says, and his voice is silky smooth.  i feel my anxiety inching up again.  Frigging emotional roller coaster, what now?

“First of all,” he goes on, “The correct response is, “yes, sir,’  There will be a punishment later for not saying that – just a token to remind you.  For now, I want to hear you say “Yes, Sir, I am willing to follow your directions,” four times, slowly and clearly.  Go ahead.”

So i do, i say “Yes, Sir, i am willing to follow your directions,” four times.  As i say the words, i can feel my body changing – i don’t know how to explain it.  You know, it’s like i’m softening, opening somehow.  i’m looking at him, looking at him on my phone while i say it, and it’s like i’m falling down into his eyes.

When i finish, he smiles just a tiny bit, just the corners of his mouth turn up, but his eyes look pleased.   i feel this urge to please him in some other way, to offer him more, but i don’t, i just wait.    I have my camera focused on my face, he can’t see that i’m naked and he hasn’t asked.

I’m expecting him to, but instead he says, “When it’s hard for you to wait, here’s something you can try.  We’ll try it in a minute, but listen to the directions first.  I’m going to have you bend over the bed so your breasts are resting on the bed.  You can lean on your forearms so your head and shoulders are propped up a bit.  You’ll fix the camera on a pillow across from you so that you don’t have to hold it and I can see your face.  Do you understand that?”

“I – I think so,” i say, adding quickly, “Sir.”

“Go ahead and try it,” he says.

It’s easier than it sounds actually and it doesn’t take long until he’s looking at my face as i lay with my torso on the bed, raised up on my forearms, looking at him.  My hips are higher than the bed, so my ass is raised behind me.

“Open your legs wide,” he says.

i spread my feet farther apart, which also exposes my pussy, and i feel a bit of cool air between my legs.  i shiver.  He smiles.

“Now,” he says, “We’ll start with your hands.  Just take a moment to think about your hands.  Feel them in your mind, be aware of them.”

Immediately, i  become super aware of my hands.  I can sense the skin, feel the fingers.  They begin  to tingle just a bit.

He says,  “Now, tell me a way you can please me with your hands.”

And it’s easy.  i smile at him, and say, “I can caress you with my hands, Sir.”  He nods.  “Yes, when I give you permission, you can please me by caressing me with your hands.”

I sigh, my breathing is slow and even.  Yes.  i can do that.

“What about your arms?” he asks.  “How can you please me with your arms?”

For a moment, i don’t know.  Then i smile, “i can hug you with my arms, Sir.”

“Yes,” he says, smiling gently, “When I give you permission, you can please me by hugging me with your arms.”

I think i  might die with the slow meticulous progress we make.  With my mouth? With my mouth, i can lick and suck you, Sir.”  And his response each time, Yes, when I give you permission, you can…”

Some of them are not so easy.  With my feet?  What can i do to please him with my feet?  He waits, until finally i say, haltingly, “With my feet, Sir, i can walk so i can bring you something to eat or drink?” and he smiles, “Yes, when I give you permission, you can please me by bringing me something to eat or drink – or rope to tie you with – or the belt to beat you…”

i shiver.  And we go on.

He leads.  “Think about your ass.  How can you please me with your ass, olivia?”  “With my ass,  I can please you by – offering it to you – for spanking, Sir?”  And so on…

By the time we finished, i am drained.   Trembling, my pussy hotter than it has been in years, my body totally relaxed -as if – as if it does not even belong to me anymore.  My nipples as tender as if i’d been wearing nipple clamps.

“Do you want to cum?” he asks, and i’m quick with an eager, “YES, SIR!” but he laughs, “No.  Not now.  You don’t cum until I give you permission.”

“Yes, Sir,” i say, and in that moment, it seems perfectly reasonable to me.

 

The Fantasy Begins

It’s not Story of O, i remind myself.  You’re not getting dropped off at the door, stripped of underwear, handed over to people who will take your clothes away.  You’ve already gotten yourself waxed, pussy, legs and underarms are all hair free zones.  All you have to do is check into your hotel, get ready, and go over to the – to the place.  The club.

i review my clothes.  Leggings.  Push up bra.  And a top with a bit of cleavage that almost makes me look like i’m not fat.  Oh, underwear that matches the bra.  Check.  I’ve got all of that.  Shoes are a problem, i just can’t do heels anymore.  A little ballet slipper type will have to do.

My heart is pounding just thinking about this.  i must be out of my mind. A stranger.  On the internet.  At a BDSM club.  Who would believe it?  At 61, you’d think I’d know better. Oh my goodness, this is ridiculous – what am i thinking?

I’m feeling quite prudent as i semi-scold myself, and then I giggle – that’s such a pretense.  I’ve done much wilder things and don’t regret a minute of it. As long as El doesn’t turn out to be an ax murderer, i’ll be fine.

I’m feeling pretty nonchalant as i pull into the parking garage of the hotel, as if i make arrangements to play at a BDSM club all the time, until i hear the buzz of my phone.  Glancing down, i see it’s El.

When you get to your room take off your clothes.  Then text me.

My heart’s fluttery, butterflies in my stomach – ok.  i can do this.  i text him back

Ok

His response is so quick i think he must have had it ready.

Olivia.  Starting now, you can call me Sir.

i feel a shift in my body.  It’s beginning to feel real.  i’m going to let this man spank me.  Maybe blindfold me.  Play with me.  i get a flash of an image, my pants down, bent over…

I realize i’m standing still beside my car, looking at my phone.  i text back quickly

Yes, Sir

And his response is so predictable, i should have laughed, but instead, i smile and feel a little glow of warmth. His text says

Good girl