How about that for a catchy title?
There is truth in every word. I was hogtied to a table. It was a typical Friday afternoon in central Georgia. I had taken some time off for an “appointment” and found myself in a hotel room
It started out innocently enough. While looking for a table on craigslist, I found myself pulled towards the personals. I thought, “this will be entertaining” I plowed through the countless posts that promised nights of adventure, luxurious vacations and romantic walks in the park. Seriously? Does anyone actually fall for that.
Then I found one that caught my attention:
Dominant Male, 42, seeks submissive female for new experiences.
Well Helloooooo. I had to read it…after all my Christian Grey could be waiting for me. The post was well-written and straightforward. No romance, no drama, just playtime. I immediately left the page and continued looking for furniture. Later that evening I found myself back on that page. It was calling me…It summoned me.
I’ve always been a little different. My first sexual experiences were with a man much older than I . He was a Dominant and I was trained to be his submissive. It wasn’t weird back then. It didn’t require a segment on Nancy Grace. I wasn’t abused. It was consensual. And it was hot. And I liked it.
So back to the present moment…hogtied to a table…on my lunch hour.
What is he going to do next? I can hear him rummaging through his bag. He’s walking over this way.
He stops. Turns and goes back to his bag of tricks. Rummaging again. The suspense is almost too much.
WHAT IS HE GOING TO DO TO ME???? I wanted to ask him, but I knew my question would be viewed as disrespectful. I could feel him standing over me. The heat from his breath was in my ear.
“What time did you get here today, miss?”
I replied, “12:52”
His voice was slightly louder as he stood over me, “What time were you supposed to be here?”
I stammered, “12:15”
He was closer to me. He leaned down by my ear again and whispered, “what were Sir’s instructions to you?”
“I was to arrive at 12:15, and I had a window of 7 minutes before and 7 minutes after to get here.”
He voice was loud again, “And you expressed understanding of your instructions, did you not?”
I quickly answered, “Yes, Sir.”
He was pacing around me. I could see the outline of his feet out of the corner of my blindfold.
“Tell me, sub. Do the math. How many minutes were you late?”
Math? Really? I don’t like math. I had no idea there would be a math quiz in the middle of a BDSM scene. As I struggled for an answer (the 7 minute windows were throwing me off) he stood behind me and bellowed, “I need an answer, now!”
I blurted out, “21 minutes, Sir”
“WRONG” he snapped. I felt the heat from his hand as he curtly spanked my left cheek. “Would you like to try again?”
“22 minutes, Sir?” I stammered
“Yes, you are correct. Do you know why I need to know the number?”
Oh I had a feeling why, but I didn’t want to say it….”No, Sir”
“Yes you do. You will be paddled for each minute you were late, young lady.”
I could feel the smooth paddle as he taunted me, rubbing it across my bare bottom. Circling. Rubbing.
And then, POP. Another. Another and another. I felt myself breathing heavily. It was arousing.
It was intoxicating. Pure pleasure from the pain each time he paddled me.
He stopped short of 22. He moved to my ear and knelt down. “Did you like that?”
I honestly didn’t know what to say! If I say yes, will he stop? If I say no, will he stop? So I chose not to answer.
“I asked you a question, miss” his voice became louder. “Did you enjoy that?”
“Yes!” I yelled. Kneeling at my ear, he said, “Good girl. Time for more”