I just could not believe my luck when my editor asked me to do an article on “alternative lifestyles”. Having an ongoing curiosity about BDSM, I decided that research should be first hand, and dressed in over the knee black leather boots with six inch heels, a short, tight black leather skirt and a red lace push-up bra under an open black leather jacket, I fit right in with the crowd at The Dragon’s Nest, a fetish club in the heart of the city. Although nervous, I had gone alone, afraid that a companion might distract me.
I wondered what type of people would go to a fetish club and was somewhat chagrinned to see the cars outside and the “regular” people entering the place. But inside, just past the change rooms (yes, that’s right! Guests dressed in their street clothing and brought their outfits with them!) I was amazed! Wow! People were dressed in all sorts of strange and wonderful clothing. Like me, many were in black leather — some in full gear from complete helmet to boots while others wore much smaller pieces. There were lots of people in rubber or latex, so tight you could count the body freckles, and there were even adult babies and guys in drag. I saw several naked bodies go by, both male and female — a few wearing dog collars being led by leashes. I was fascinated! Listening to the gothic music, so loud with a primal beat that seemed to cause my heart to thump faster and the blood to pulse in my genitals, I felt invigorated! Dim lights and dry ice offered a wonderful, smoky atmosphere, which swirled with each passing body and the place was crammed with people. So, I was not the only curious one!
At intervals around the room, there were “stations” set up, each offering a different voyeuristic look at BDSM. At one, a young woman was strapped naked to a large wooden X, known as a St. Andrew’s cross. Facing it, she was attached by a leather waist harness, which also tightly held her wrists. Her ankles were cuffed to the device but kept apart by a metal rod, known as a spreader bar. On a side table lay an odd assortment of devices — leather whips, paddles, riding crops and other instruments of torture, being reviewed by a man in black leather.
He chose a heavy multi-tailed whip, and approaching the girl, he let the tails gently caress her back and buttocks. Whispering as he walked around behind her, he touched every inch of exposed flesh with the softness of the leather. Stepping back, he raised his hand and snapped it, just letting the tips of the whip touch her ass. She flinched slightly, but the touch was so light that it could not have done more than sting a little. He continued, but I noticed that each “caress” was administered with a little more effort until finally, he was using the full brunt of the flogger. Occasionally, he would stop and feel between her legs, then bring his fingers up to her lips, allowing her to taste her nectar, which seemed to flow so freely. The captive’s ass was turning a lovely shade of pink, and I could feel my own wetness as I watched and secretly longed to trade places.
A tightly packed crowd of gawkers and onlookers gathered around, and soon, my view was obscured. I could barely see the top of the cross over the broad shoulder of the tall black gentleman in front of me. I stood on tiptoes, but it didn’t help one iota. Just as I was about to give up, the man in front of me looked over his shoulder at me. His eyes caught mine for a moment, and they held me still with their raw power. A smile spread across his dark handsome face, and he said in a deep gentle voice, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to block your view.” And then he took my hand, and nudged me in front of him, where I could see the show unhindered. The girl on the St. Andrew’s cross was moaning in equal measure of pleasure and pain, as her Master cruelly flogged her ass.
I turned back to the man who had so gallantly let me stand in front of him. “Thank you,” I said, still holding his hand, “my name is Morgan.”
“Dominick,” he said with a nod, and kissed my hand. I felt my skin flush as he did this. He was quite the attractive man, with close-cropped hair, and a thin mustache and goatee. His skin almost as dark as the black leather vest he wore, and he exuded power and sex. “And this is Sinclaire,” he said, indicating the lovely woman to his right.
She was about my height, five six, with pale skin and jet-black hair, cut pageboy style, heavy black eye-makeup around hazel eyes, and bright red lipstick. Her small, perky tits were bare, as she wore nothing but a leather bikini bottom, and a studded leather collar, clasped with a tiny silver padlock. She spoke in a heavy French accent when she smiled and said, “It is nice to meet you. Have you been here before?”
“No, this is my first time,” I answered. We made small talk, while the man in front of the cross delighted his bound lover. He discarded his flogger, and unchained her from the cross, only to turn her around, and shackle her again, with her back to it. Taking a lit candle from a nearby candelabra, he began dripping the molten wax over her breasts, as she fought feebly against her bonds, moaning loudly the whole time. My panties were soaked by the time he picked his flogger back up, and resumed the whipping. Keeping the leather tails in constant motion, he struck her thighs, belly and breasts in a criss-cross pattern, leaving little pink Xs behind.
“Oh, that looks like fun,” I said between sighs.
Sinclaire smiled broadly, “It is fun. Have you never been whipped?”
Shaking my head, I explained that while I’d often thought about it, I’d never had the opportunity, or a willing partner.
“Oh, Dominick, ask her to join us,” she said excitedly, her nipples getting visibly harder.
Turning to me, Dominick grinned. “You are more than welcome, if you’d like to try it out.”
“Well,” I said blushing, “it would certainly help my research.”
“Research?”
I went on to explain exactly why I was there, and assured them that I would not use full names in my article.
“I’m a firm believer in the freedom of the press,” said Dominick when I finished babbling. “So, would you like to be bound, naked and helpless, and whipped for everyone here to see?”
I looked around the room, decided, “What the Hell?” and got to my quivering knees in front of Dominick. “Would you be my Master for the evening?” I pleaded.
“It would be my honor, Morgan,” he answered, and helped me to my feet.
“This will be so much fun!” exclaimed Sinclaire, hugging me exuberantly.
Dominick explained to me about “safewords”, and told me not to hesitate to use them, if things got to be too much for me. I nodded in understanding, and he told me to repeat my safewords.
“I say ‘Yellow’ if I need for you to slow down. ‘Red’ if I’m terrified, and need to stop and be untied. And I use ‘Green’ if I’ve used one of the others, to mean I’ve changed my mind, and to keep going.”
“Very good. I’ll go easy on you, since you’re new to this, and we’ll find your limits gradually.”
I tried to protest: to tell him not to hold back. I didn’t want him to think I was a wimp. But he held firm, telling me not to try to take more than I could. The safewords, he explained, were used for very good reasons.
Breathing heavily with nervous anticipation, I let Dominick lead me out onto the floor. He carried an overnight bag, which was full of all sorts of lovely toys. He laid them out on a table, and ordered Sinclaire to strip and then to strip me, which she did, slowly and sensually, while the whole room watched. Kissing the front panel of my lacy red g-string bikini panties before slipping them down to the floor, she left me in only my boots. I’d never been naked in front of more than one person before, let alone a huge crowd of strangers, and I felt shy and sexually excited at the same time.
Dominick also stripped for the crowd. He ditched his shirt, boots, and pants, and stood before us in only his vest and a black leather g-string, which barely contained his massive cock. ‘Delicious’ was the only word I could think of to describe him. Approaching us boldly, he wrapped his fingers in Sinclaire’s hair, tilted her head back roughly, and kissed her full pouty lips, probing her mouth with his tongue. And when he did the same to me, I nearly lost my footing. Collapsing against his chest, I surrendered myself to him and his deep, passionate kiss.
“Stand back to back,” he ordered us, when he finished the kiss. We complied immediately, and Sinclaire held my hands, intertwining her fingers with mine. Circling us slowly, Dominick began swatting us with a velvet rope flogger. I was expecting pain from the beginning, but this whip was obviously not designed for pain, but pure sensation. It was so soft, and when it hit my flesh, it was like being kissed by a Summer breeze. Sinclaire squeezed my hands, as the soft flogger struck her, and her sighs were in perfect harmony to mine. We were ordered to face each other, and again, Sinclaire took my hands, as Dominick flogged us with the velvet rope. He covered both of our bodies at least three times in entirety, waking up our nerve endings, bringing them to ultimate sensitivity, and by the time he was done, I was aching for a hard cock in my cunt.
Making us stand back to back again, he cuffed our wrists together with Velcro straps, and tied the velvet flogger around our waists. He kissed us again, and before moving away from me, he whispered in my ear, “are you doing okay, so far?”
“Yes, Sir,” I sighed.
Picking up a long riding crop, Dominick moved around us, tapping our bodies lightly with the leather tab at the end of the crop. He smacked my thighs, and I moved them apart. He smacked my breasts, and I moaned, and my nipples grew hard. My pussy was dripping with my honey as he slipped the crop between my legs. I could hear Sinclaire moaning behind me, as Dominick slowly slid the riding crop out from between my legs. Obviously, the crop was sliding across both of our pussies, and it felt as wonderful to Sinclaire as it did to me.
Again and again, the riding crop struck my soft flesh, and with each passing minute, Dominick hit us harder and harder. I nearly screamed with passion as he smacked my swollen clitoris with the riding crop. Oh, it felt so nice! And Sinclaire’s soft body, rubbing up against me from behind, her butt sliding over mine, felt nice as well.
Removing our Velcro cuffs, and the rope at our waist, Dominick had us kneel face to face, with our thighs spread as wide as we could spread them. Ordering us to wrap our arms around each other, he shackled our wrists. Locked in this embrace (literally) I gazed into Sinclaire’s eyes. God, she was gorgeous! I’d never been with a woman before, nor ever wanted to, but now I was seriously considering it. Maybe she read my mind, but she leaned in and kissed me deeply, her nipples brushing against mine, sending electric sparks up and down my spine. And, I couldn’t believe it; I am the one who made it a tongue-kiss! I pushed my tongue into her mouth, and she met it with her own.
Before resuming our torture, Dominick quizzed me on my safewords, and asked me if I was ready for more. “Yes, Sir,” I said. He kissed me, and then Sinclaire, and then Sinclaire kissed me again.
Dominick now used heavy leather cat-o-nine-tails on our tender flesh. He flogged us soundly, while we kissed deeply, pressing our bodies together. I’ve never felt such splendid pain in my entire life. It hurt like Hell, but I was in Heaven! Dominick beat us savagely and lovingly, and I enjoyed every moment of it! I had to use a safeword once during the entire time, when he managed to strike the exact same spot on my ass twice in succession.
“Yellow!” I winced, and he halted his flogging, kneeling down to examine the spot he’d just struck. Satisfied that he hadn’t harmed me, he kissed my buttocks, and resumed my heavenly torment.
Wondering why I’d waited so long to try this, I held Sinclaire in a tight embrace, and moaned loudly as Dominick lashed at my fleshy buttocks with his whip. I was so pumped up — so wet — so horny, from this treatment, that I thought I was going to climax just from being beaten. I didn’t. But the way I did cum was lovely too!
Dominick paused our whipping to retrieve a new toy from his bag. He made a point of showing us this new toy before using it on us. It was a long, thick, double-headed dildo. My throat went dry when I saw it, and my pussy got (believe it or not) wetter, when I realized what it was for.
Placing it between our bodies, Dominick helped us to slip the dildo into our quivering cunts. We were well lubricated, and the dildo went in easily, and Sinclaire and I began humping against it in unison. I tried to take it all the way in, so that I could rub my clit against hers, but it was just too long. I was, however, able to get clitoral stimulation by rocking forward just a bit.
Dominick stood beside us, and removed his g-string. His cock sprang out, as hard and thick as the fake cock that was even now sliding in and out of Sinclaire’s and my pussies. Sinclaire immediately took it into her mouth, and sucked it, slurping noisily, and making little yummy noises. I watched her suck Dominick’s hard cock, and pushed harder against the dildo connecting our cunts. She let his cock slip out of her mouth, and smiled at me. Hesitating only a moment, I enveloped his manhood in my mouth, and took him all the way down my throat. We took turns deepthroating his beautiful cock, while impaling ourselves on the double dildo. He didn’t let his own pleasure get in the way of giving Sinclaire and me the whipping of our lives, and even as he fucked our mouths, he managed to pound our asses with his flogger, switching it from hand to hand.
Looking down at the dildo buried in my cunt, I followed it with my eyes, to Sinclaire’s pretty pussy, then I let my gaze move up her lovely body, to her beautiful tits, and her angelic face. She smiled at me, and I imagined that it wasn’t a rubber cock, but Sinclaire actually fucking me, as we shared Dominick’s steel rod, and soon I was nearing my climax. Panting and moaning, I tensed up all over, and Sinclaire did the same. We came together, while Dominick fucked her mouth, and as we screamed our pleasure, he pumped a load of thick hot semen into her mouth. He gave us each one final stroke with his flogger, as Sinclaire kissed me, sharing his cum.
Walking me to my car, later, Dominick and Sinclaire kissed me tenderly goodnight, and we exchanged phone numbers with the promise that we’d get together again soon. The next morning, I compiled my notes, and by Monday, I had my article ready for my editor.
He rejected it.
The bastard read maybe three paragraphs, and rejected it out of hand. “Too controversial,” he said. More to the point, it didn’t show the downside of this “deviant” behavior. Idiot!
I imagine if I’d told every detail of my experience, I would have been fired. No matter. I’m looking for another job, and as soon as I find one, I’m gone.
In the meantime, I’m learning many new and wonderful things about BDSM from my new Master, Dominick and my Sister in Submission, Sinclaire. My wonderful dream lovers.