He asked me what I was looking for…part 2.
The butterflies turned into a furious swarm!
If you missed the part 1, here is the link. Please read part one first.
He ran his hand up my neck and into my hair. Grabbing a fist full, he growled into my ear, “Would you like to go to the play party with me?”
I stopped breathing for a few seconds, but my mind was racing ninety to nothing. Did he say play party? This was my first meet and greet, and now I am being asked to attend a play party. I reminded myself I was NOT looking for anyone.
Oh my, but I cannot deny the electricity that ran through me when he ran his hand up my neck. I couldn’t keep my eyes open, even if I wanted to. I felt the room slipping away from me. What was happening?
I had never felt anything like this before. All he was doing was grabbing a fist full of my hair. But damn it…it had nothing to do with him pulling my hair and everything to do with the control I was handing him on a silver platter. How could I trust him so fully with just his touch?
He released my hair, and then suddenly, my whole body started screaming. My consciousness slammed back into the here and now with a jolt. “Oh god! Please don’t release me!!” I thought.
Through the fog that had started to fill my mind, I somehow managed to remember that I didn’t come here alone. My friend had stepped outside so that Michael and I could talk while she smoked a cigarette. I requested that he could give me a few minutes to talk to her before I could answer.
Even though I was new to the scene, I was aware that the first rule was that it was not safe to go with someone alone after meeting them for the first time. But my soul told me that I could trust him. I felt safe with him. Plus, my argument was that technically, I would not be alone with him at the party.
After discussing his request with my friend, she said that since she knew him, she didn’t see any reason why I shouldn’t go.
My butterflies turned into a furious swarm as I stepped back into the bar. He cut his eyes over to me, without saying a word. Then he raised his eyebrow slightly.
I dropped my eyes, before saying, “Yes, I would love to attend the play party with you.” My friend chimed in saying that I had to call her to let her know I was alright before the night was over.
We exchanged our phone numbers, said our goodbyes, and then off we went to get ready for our evening. The swarm of butterflies had settled into a tranquil hum. I was so excited, that I couldn’t do anything without feeling a warm tingling feeling igniting between my legs.
In retrospect, I was breaking yet another rule. We were supposed to negotiate the rules of our scene beforehand. When negotiating a scene, the parties are supposed to discuss what type of play they would be willing to do. How far would they be willing to go? What were each party’s hard limits or soft limits? Would a safe word be used? I was so new to this and excited that I completely forgot this important step.
Would he be part of that “slap and tickle” group or furries? I was not into that type of play. When I played with myself, I had to find a way to give my body the pain it craved for me to get off. I was in no mood for anything less than the pain my body craved.
My mind continued to wander. Was he the type of Dominant who lived the lifestyle 24/7? Did he want a lady on the street and a freak in the bed? I had gotten off so many times thinking about giving my control over completely to someone every day and night, not just when the moment presented itself.
Hell, for that matter, besides giving up my control, what did I want? I went to this meet and greet solely to support my friend since her husband couldn’t go. I reminded myself I was not looking for anyone. I was just window shopping, so to speak.
After I texted him my address, he replied informing me that he would be at my house by 7:30 and I was not to be late. It was only 4:15 but still, I jumped up to start getting ready to go.
I started by shaving all my pretty lady parts to make them irresistible. I lathered myself up with floral-scented body wash and then finished with a soft vanilla perfume.
I did my hair, but in hindsight, I don’t know why I did it because it didn’t stay up for half of the night.
I wanted to look sexy, so I went for my go-to “fuck me” outfit. The top was a black corset bodice that left my back partially bare, but it had hidden clips to get in and out easily. I wanted to be desirable and only a little hard to get.
The skirt I chose made me look like a naughty schoolgirl. You know, the super short skirt, but this one had crinoline under it so that it flared out just below the curve of my ass.
I completed my outfit with a pair of thigh-high black stockings, a garter belt, and 6-inch knee-high boots. If I had any doubts that I looked as good as I felt, it was confirmed when I walked out, and my roommate just nodded his head over and over again.
Michael texted me, informing me he was about to pull up. Jokingly, I replied that me and my butterflies were ready to go.
When I opened the door, the mere sight of him made my heart stop. He had on a black t-shirt that simply said, “Who the Fuck is next?” As my eyes continued to roam down his body, he had on a pair of shorts that went down to his knees, but just above his leather knee-high boots. He was a vision I would not get out of my mind anytime soon. And he would definitely be the main character in all of my masturbating fantasies from now on.
God! He was so sexy. The shirt barely contained the muscles in his arms. And this was my date for the night? Wow, for not looking for anyone, I did a damn good job.
We chatted on our way to the party. He told me that he had two rules that must be obeyed. His first rule was to always take care of the Master’s property… meaning me. Rule number two was that I was to call him Sir at all times. Those were easy rules to obey.
After he told me his rules, we started to discuss what he liked to use while he did a scene. He liked to play with floggers, rods, and something called a “motherfucker”. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to know what that was. He said he uses the rods almost like drumsticks to bring the blood to the surface. He was already bringing my blood to the surface. I was all but drooling.
Lastly, he added, “I like to play with knives.”
My breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t have heard him correctly. Did he say knives? When I didn’t say anything, he just let the moment hang there. Ugh, he wasn’t going to say anything until I did.
After a couple of red lights had gone by, I softly, replied, “I’ve never played with knives before.” He let out a deep-throated chuckle that I could feel straight to my clit.
“I have a bag full of toys that you will find very interesting,” he said with an evil grin.
Far too soon we were at the party. Before he went to open my door, he pulled out a big black bag from the trunk. It looked heavy judging by how he manhandled it.
He opened my door and then extended his hand to help me out. There was that damn electric shock feeling again when he touched me. What was he made of that he could conduct that much energy with just a touch? He tucked my hand into the curve of his arm, tossed his toy bag over his shoulder, and then we made our way to the door.
We were warmly welcomed into the house. He seemed to know everyone there. I, on the other hand, knew no one.
We got a drink before heading into one of the playrooms. As soon as we stepped into the room my eyes were drawn to the St. Andrew’s cross leaning in one corner. All of the seats were taken except for one that was big enough for us to sit very closely.
He put his arm around behind me to give me more room to sit closer to him. Before I could think about how close we were, the “show” began.
That was what I would call it because it was not a real scene, but it was a show. The man, who was tied to the cross, was the dominant of the submissive who was using the flogger on him for her birthday.
She chose to play music during her scene which was quite loud and easily forgettable. She picked a rather small flogger to start with, and her first swish caught him across the side of his neck.
At the angle we were seated, we could see the stroke caught him perfectly in one of the areas where you are not supposed to hit someone when using a flogger. I couldn’t help but cringe. The next few strokes managed to hit him across his shoulders. She turned and grabbed the flogger in between her teeth as if she were posing for a picture. The giggle she gave was sickly sweet I suppose.
After she was done with her posing session, she went back to flogging him. This time she pulled back the flogger striking him on his right kidney with the tip wrapping around to his stomach.
I almost cried out but caught myself. You are supposed to be respectful of another person’s scene. You were to speak quietly if you were close to their scene, and definitely not interrupt it. Only the dungeon masters or DM were allowed to interrupt a scene, or for that matter, stop a scene if the dominant was abusing the submissive.
Oh, but of course, she had to mimic the strike on the other side as well. The look on his face said that he wasn’t having as much fun as she seemed to be having, but he didn’t say anything to stop it.
The show went on for the length of a full song before she was finally done torturing him. Judging by the color of his lightly purple hands, he was more than ready for it to be over with.
Before the so-called “scene” concluded, Michael whispered in my ear, “Are you ready to play?”
I took the last sip of my drink before answering him, “Yes, Sir. I am ready.”
We got up to survey the other two playrooms. The first one we walked into the scene was just finishing. The submissive was tied spread-eagle standing up with ropes attached to her wrists and ankles. She was crying but you could tell that they were not tears of pain but of release.
The last room had what was called a “puppy pile”. There were people dressed up as dogs and cats mostly. I think I saw someone dressed like a baby, but thankfully we did not go into that room. Instead, we went back to the second room.
The room was still filled with people who watched the last scene. Michael inquired if anyone was waiting to play. When no one spoke up he carried his play bag into the room.
He turned to me and all he said was, “Strip”. I replied, “Yes, Sir.” I began taking off my clothes. I folded them neatly and then placed them beside his toy bag.
“Now kneel,” his voice dropped a few octaves, which shot right down to my clit again.
I did as he requested. I placed my hands atop my thighs. I had my legs slightly open. I had no way to hide the sweet musky scent of my arousal. Could he smell it too?
My wondering was confirmed when he knelt in front of me. The smile on his face turned my face a bright shade of red. I have never been this turned on before in my whole life.
Let me have your wrist.” I complied by presenting my right hand to him. From behind his back, he pulled out a pair of leather cuffs. He placed the cuff on my wrist ensuring that it had enough room so that my hands would not fall asleep, and then he did the other cuff.
“Sit on the edge of the sofa.” I gracefully stood up to sit where he told me. Again he knelt in from of me. “Give me your foot.”
I did as I was told. He placed another set of leather cuffs on my ankles. I had never had the feel of leather against my bare skin. I was a little taken aback at how much it turned me on. How could I get any more turned on? I would find out soon enough just how much more I could be turned.
He told me to stay seated as he dug into his toy bag again. I have to admit that I did try to get a glance at what was in his toy bag, but I wasn’t quick enough. He closed the bag before turning to me with strands of rope.
He skillfully tied the rope to all of my cuffs. Once he was done, he took a step back smiling down at his play toy.
In his deep Dom voice, he asks, “Are you ready to begin?”
Enjoying the story so far? This is just the beginning of the best night of my life. Come back next time to find out what he does with his knives.
