When having a kinky weekender in such a small city as Oslo you have to broaden your search area – yes, I go to Tinder. There are two main problems with Tinder boys: they tend to be waify and they have no clue about BDSM. Sure they know about anal and deep throating but when I clarify that they are the ones that will be my little slut (instead of me being theirs)… yeah, most freak out. The other thing I miss when I’m with a Tinder boy is the discipline and natural elegance of a submissive male who understands his role. So, I’m upfront. As soon as a meeting with a Tinder boy is likely, I tell them I’m kinky. They usually say, “I’m kinky too”, and I just laugh.
“No, no, no, I’m really kinky, like 50 Shades eat-your-heart-out kinky,” I try…
They still never get it until I give them pic evidence, usually a close-up of my fist in someone’s ass. It’s actually quite fun to see the boys run, but the ones who don’t… them’s got potential.
It just so happened on Friday evening I was chatting with this Norwegian guy (35). Let’s call him Maverick, yep, after Tom Cruise in Top Gun. You’ll understand why later. He was trying to convince me he was kinky enough, though he knew nothing about BDSM. Sometimes it’s fun to play with the ignorant, so I was indulging him. He was 40km away and the likelihood of something happening was… nada. But somehow I liked him. He was very cheeky and I would have slapped his face several times if I could reach it. It’s very unusual for a Norwegian boy to be so cocky.
Maverick was convinced he could get to me in 40 minutes if I wanted it but I never took him seriously. Plus, there were other guys I was wooing who were only 1km away. So, I was just killing time with Maverick while preparing for another play date.
I had a fun-filled night with a few boys and went to bed at 4AM after kicking out my last playmate. The Saturday morning sun was gorgeous but it fucking woke me up – just four hours sleep was killing me. My mobile chimed and I reached over to look. It was Maverick. He wanted to know my plans for the day… obviously so he could see how to fit himself in. I honestly told him I didn’t know. Tragically, I had no boys lined up the whole day. The ones I did have had to pull out because of sickness, work or travel. My schedule was blank – like crickets. But no way in fuck did I tell Maverick that.
The cocky boy said he was heading into Oslo. I ignored him, sleep was taking a hold of me again and so I masturbated to make sure the next few hours of zzz’s would be deep and satisfying.
Several chimes from my mobile woke me up again. Checking out of habit, it was Maverick. You bastard!
“Hey, you there? I’m outside. Hello?”
Outside? That made me instantly wake up. “Where are you?” I texted back.
“Downstairs. Don’t disappoint me now.”
Holy fuck! “Like, at my hotel?” I couldn’t text fast enough. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t getting lost in translation and then I tried to remember when I had actually told him what hotel I was staying at.
“Yeah, I have twenty minutes,” he wrote.
Fuuuuuuck!! When he said he was heading to Oslo, I didn’t think he meant to come to me… I thought he had errands or something. “I just woke up. I haven’t showered…”
I laughed at his cheek. For some fucking reason I was charmed… “And my room is messy…”
“I don’t care.”
Fuck, um… He was solving all my issues with his smart-ass attitude.
“You up for it?” He egged.
And you know what…? I fucking was. This guy’s sheer bravado was like no other. He was making everything so easy and believe me, that in itself is truly incredible. It was nice to have a dude pro-active for once. His offer was right up my alley too. I love doing crazy shit. Twenty minutes…? Hell yeah! No shower meant I was not going to get intimate – I was good with that – but constructing a scene on the spur of the moment for a cocky vanilla anal-virgin who I’d love to teach a lesson to…? Bring it on! I live for pushing my Dommely powers to the max. A bit of spontaneous bondage, corporal punishment and Bob’s your uncle. Challenge accepted, dude!
“Ok, I have to come down and let you in.” I texted back.
Twenty minutes…? I took a breath and scanned over my surroundings. My room had the just-been-fucked-in look but there was no time to freshen things up. I clothed my nakedness in my only civilian attire – ripped jeans, faded T and unzipped ugg boots – and put my unkempt hair up in a loose bun. Yeah, I’m classy like that. Haha! I opened the window to let out the midnight sex smell before flying out the door and running down the four flights of stairs. Lifts are for pussies!
There was a spunky dude standing in the corridor by the elevator. I ran past him to the security doors of the foyer but no one was there waiting. Oh fuck! I bet Maverick’s the dude I just ran past. Yep, sure enough, when I turned, the dude was smirking at me. Shit. Now I knew why he was so cocky – no girl could turn that down. Damn it!
Bounding up – I never walk – I said hi. I didn’t need to introduce myself, he obviously knew who I was. Instantly he put his hand around my waist and we kissed each other on the cheek. I pushed the button for the elevator, curious as to how close he was getting to me.
“Only twenty minutes, hey? So what are you doing today?” I never care to get personal but I was trying to make small talk to distract him from reaching in under my shirt. It didn’t work.
“I’ve got a football game on.”
Oh, that explained his short shorts and thin white t-shirt. He looked like he was ready to play beach volleyball.
“You playing?” I asked, stopping his hands from getting a grip around me.
“I’m the coach.”
“Oh…” – Holy fuck! What a turn on – the cheekiness of him, getting a quickie in with a complete stranger before the game. Loved it! It’s exactly what I would do. – “I didn’t realise you’d be coming to see me. I actually just woke up,” I said looking past him to see if anyone was watching us getting fresh in public.
The elevator dinged and we entered, his hands on my hips pushing me in.
“Ok, so my room is really messy…” I warned again, hoping it wouldn’t still smell like sex when we got up there.
He laughed at me, “I told you, I don’t care.”
I swiped my card and pushed the button. “And I haven’t had a shower…”
“I don’t care…”
Coming in close, his body against mine, he tugged on my clothes, forehead pressing against mine… he was about to kiss me. As soon as the doors closed his hand squeezed my ass, making me thrust my hips into him, our mouths so close. God, it was exactly what I wanted, but I laughed at his seriousness. “I haven’t even brushed me teeth yet,” I said trying to dodge his kiss.
“I don’t care…” he smirked.
Somehow I weakened and I let his lips fall onto mine, his hunger ploughing through me. Plunging his hand into my jeans, his fingers went straight to my pussy. OMG! I wanted it so bad but I had to break off our kiss and hold him back… before I squirted in my pants. Right then and there, I knew where this was going to lead… everything out the window.
The elevator doors opened and I fell back out of his arms and escaped to open my door. His body surrounded mine from behind, his hands riding up the front of my shirt and cupping my breasts. Oh god. It took me three goes swiping the key card to open the door.
Just inside, even before the door closed behind us, he turned me and pushed me up against the wall, plunging his hand down the front on my jeans again. His lips fell on mine, his fingers knew exactly where to go and before I could think about the consequences, I allowed his hand to ravaging me. Suddenly, I felt the rush and I gripped onto his hand to stop him. “You’re gonna make me squirt,” I managed to breathe out.
“Good. I want you to.”
Taking his arm, I pulled it out of my jeans and rolled off the wall into the room. This was going quicker than expected and I needed to get a grip. “I have to have a shower…”
“No, you don’t,” he countered.
As I turned to him, he collected me in his arm, while his other thrust into my jeans again. Holding his weight at a distance so I wouldn’t be completely consumed by him… I needed him to understand… “I really should have a shower. I’ve just been fucked a few hours ago…” Surely, he would want me to freshen up for him…?
“I told you…” he began.
“I have another man all over me.” I butted in.
“…I don’t care.”
What the fuck? OMG… this man was so hot. I released to him and he took the opportunity again to plunder my pussy. I was building up to the warm gushing release until I suddenly remembered – oh fuck no! – my jeans were the only civilian clothes I had brought with me for the weekender and I had to wear them home on the plane the next day. I tend to only pack lingerie… lingerie and toys. Before I turned into complete jelly, I took hold of his arm and pushed him away from me. He stood back giving me space but I could see the magnetic craving in him. Oh shit! I so wanted to be fucked by him, but I wanted his ass more, and to have it, I needed to regain control. “I have to change.”
Searching through my carry-on for my burgundy bodice, I knew I could not be naked around this man. He would devour every inch of me if he had full access, and I would sure let him. But we had a deal. He knew if he hooked up with me I’d get his ass and I wasn’t about to let him escape that. I had to impose my dominance to get the satisfaction I needed.
Off to the bathroom, I locked the door and changed. I took an extra ten seconds to collect myself before confronting him. In the room again, he had already lost his shorts and jocks to the floor. As I detached my mobile from the charger, his hands slid over my bare ass and I straighten up to face him. About to tell him my deal with taking pics, he suddenly flung me onto the bed. I tragically squealed in delight and he crawled on after. I lost my mobile… somewhere. Fuck!
His knees spread my legs wide and he pushed me back down on the bed at my attempt to get off.
“Wait… wait…” I said in between laughing at his manhandling, and I scooted off the bed again to grab a condom from my BDSM stash splayed out on the desk.
Bouncing back, I lifted up his shirt – wondering why he still had it on – and I’m confronted with his rock hard cock, purple head and all. As I rolled on the condom, he smirked and moved his head in such a way I knew he was going to pounce as soon as I was finished.
Sure enough, when the rubber touched his base, he pushed me back, moved my thong across – didn’t care to unclip – and set his cock between my pussy lips before sinking himself into me.
Again and again! There’s just something about the energy of a man who means business. I couldn’t help but moan as he was building me to orgasm.
“How many men have you had so far?” he asked end-thrust.
What…? Oh, we’re talking? O…kay… “You mean this weekend?” I asked for clarification. Surely he didn’t mean, like, ever?
“Yeah, the weekend. It’s fucking hot how many guys you have.”
“Four, including you.”
“You’ve fucked four guys in less than 24 hours?”
“No,” I laughed. “I don’t fuck all my subs.”
“BDSM isn’t about fucking. It’s about exploring kinks and relationship dynamics…” Does he really expect me to concentrate right now?
“So, why are you fucking me?”
Yikes! My brain instantly snapped out of its sexual vertigo. Embarrassed, I didn’t dare answer the question but the very fact I didn’t made his cocky smirk even sexier. He slowed for my answer but I wasn’t going to give him satisfaction.
He pulled away and I felt my body grasp for his feeling to return. Standing, he ordered me to turn over.
Like hell…! I slid off the bed up to my feet. “It’s your turn,” I demanded, trying not to sound too carnal. I didn’t want to frighten the guy.
At the desk, I found my glove bag and put one on. I had to turn around to face Maverick so he’d stop his attack on my ass. As I took up the lube to prep one little finger for him, he came in close and slid his cock into my saturated pussy, fucking me while standing up. I must admit I was mighty impressed. I can’t remember the last time I was fucked standing front-on, if ever.
Stepping back, I pushed him to turn around to the bed. I tried to bend him over but he wouldn’t budge, so I opened his ass cheeks and slipped my gloved finger in between.
“I’ve never done this before… never had anything up there, so go easy on me,” he pleaded.
Warm fuzzy tingles raced through my body. It wasn’t his words that did it for me but the smell of his fear. Fear, yet a willingness to give in to me. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing. Just one little finger… Now relax,” I cooed. With my other hand, I slid my palm over his ass and then scrapped my nails in to his soft flesh. He still wouldn’t bend for me so I pushed my pointer into his ass. “You need to bend so you can open up to me.”
He resisted again at my attempt to nudge him over. Pushing my finger further in – his g-spot was deeper than most – I needed more leverage. In one go, I forced him down hard onto the bed. He braced himself on his hands and I held him down for good measure. My finger reached his prostate so I could come-hither his g-spot.
Maverick held dead still as his tight little ass suckled my finger. I could tell he was still nervous. Reaching under, I thought to stroke his cock to help him relax into the pleasure. His cock was rock hard…! Oh, what a sly boy, pretending to be all innocent-like when really he was aching for it. I pumped him, and instead of his ass squeezing to push my finger out like they normally do, I felt his body ease into my hands.
With my finger in his tight ass and my hand wrapped around his cock, Maverick began to pinch up the bed sheets. This man was definitely doing this just for me. That in itself was thrilling, but an Alpha vanilla giving his virgin ass just so he could have me for twenty minutes…? I wondered what he would surrender for a full hour.
Before I was done with him, he stood up, his ass forcing my finger out. Grabbing me, he threw me on the bed again.
I was so ready. Snapping off my glove, I flung it to the bin – ten points!
Maverick spread my legs in the way I loved and rammed his cock into me desperately.
I gasped and writhed at the rush.
I found my phone stuck underneath my ass and managed to pry it out from underneath our weight. “I take pictures too… It’s my thing,” I told him. “No faces, but I use them on Fetlife. Is that okay?”
“No. You can see them after and we’ll delete the ones you don’t approve…” I got majorly excited at his magic words: “Yeah, sure.”
Giggling, I tried to take sexy pics, but my body threshing in response to his thrusting, just made it silly. I swear he was doing it on purpose! All I could do was just aim and snap at whatever – he was fucking me that hard, rendering my mad photography skills useless.
“I’m coming,” he breathed, and I tingled all over at the thought. He slipped out of me and kneeled over. Up on my elbows, I had to see what he was up to. He held his cock over me and pumped. Oh fuck! He’s going to cum all over my lingerie!Just as I was about to protest, his creamy stuff spurted and was caught in the condom. Phew! I thought he had taken it off. He continued to pump, looking incredibly gorgeous over me, and… I took pictures!
Quivering a little, he fell onto his knuckles, supporting himself over me. Looking at each other, we both chuckled at the surreal moment. “You got your pictures?” he teased, which made me grin.
Up and away, he cleaned up quickly as I lay there watching.
“So you’ve had three others, but you haven’t fucked them?” He nosed in again.
“I’ve fucked two but only one to completion.”
“I kicked the guy out half way through”.
Maverick looked at me with a wickedly delicious cocked eyebrow while picking up his jocks.
“The dude gave me an ultimatum. He said he could either keep fucking me but without a condom or he’ll leave. It wasn’t a hard choice.”
Maverick laughed. “Really? He said that?” He shook his head slightly in disbelief. “And the other one you fucked?” His smile returned.
Oh shit. He wanted me to stroke his ego. “You,” I didn’t back down.
Smirking even more, he asked again, “So, why me?”
I hated that he was thinking he had got to me, but I still said nothing. He had a point. Why him? I liked his bravado, his provocative attitude and his unadulterated hunger but there was really no other reason than I bloody well felt like it. I felt the need, the need for speed.
When he was redressed, I bounced to my feet to show him the pics I had taken. They were very… laughable at best.
“What’s the site again?”
“Fetlife,” I replied.
“Okay,” he said just like that.
“Thanks… Well, it was fun.” I tried not to sound like I was pushing him out the door.
His eyebrows raised and that terrible smirk returned. “Yeah, it was fun. But I got to go.”
“A little,” he blushed.
I held in my chuckle and we kissed each other on the cheek. Watching him leave all the way, I pushed the door shut after him. I love no fuss goodbyes.
Some of you might be thinking he left without finishing the job, but it was actually quite perfect for me. There are many times where liaisons span over a few sessions, halves that will make a whole. And besides, I had other plans for my next orgasm that day.
I thought Maverick would be the type of guy I would never hear from again, which I liked, but… after a day, yeah, it seems he doesn’t want me to forget about him. Go figure.
Corrupting Van Helsing
I met the young Van Helsing at the train station. He was casually leaning against the railing waiting for me. I recognised him straight away but he only knew it was me when I bounded up and gave a quick hug. Meet-and-greets in public places have always been awkward for me, I prefer to take my men straight to the bedroom.
The bohemian lightly-bearded boy, fifteen years my younger, took me to a great little Mexican street cafe for lunch. We talked on many topics – the boy was an intellectualist, which I loved – but it was only when the subject turned to desires and what we’d hope for that night that I felt the pull of intimacy. Magically, talk of sexual things draws human beings closer together quicker than any other topic I know. I distinctly remember the change in tension between us, and I fell for it.
It was decided that we were going to meet at a local BDSM club. That night I was meant to attend the German Fetish Ball but knew it wouldn’t satisfy my sadist needs – I needed an entrée to chaw on before swallowing the pomp and fluff. After three hours, twice as long as I spend with most subs, we said our goodbye-untils and went our separate ways to prepare for the night.
The club was a little out of the way at the end of the train line. When visiting new cities I like to slum it with the people and travel by local transport. It’s the fastest way to get a feel for the city and it’s people. Berliners are chilled and casual, they aren’t afraid to look at you but they do it in a non-intrusive way. My bag did draw some attention with my toys protruding out from the zipper. They were covered with a plastic bag, of course, but still, they created intrigue among some fellow passengers.
Arriving at the club, I changed into my appropriate clothes. I never go out of my way to fashion myself as a Domme. In fact, many mistaken me for a submissive (I suppose just for being female) as I have a very feminine style. I don’t play to the perceptions of others – I wear what I want.
Van Helsing was at the bar. He was dressed in a leather harness, collar and black pants with some netting. I declined his offer for a drink, I prefer to savour the atmosphere while lucid… to experience every nuance of thrill and emotion running through my body… to be clearly aware of my partner and our connectivity. Raw and real is my drug.
We ventured into the play area and watched. It is always polite to allow the locals to initiate their space first. There were many couples playing – male Doms and their female submissives mostly, however, there was one dominant female playing with her male submissive. Naturally I was drawn to them.
The Domme had her tools laid out on the bondage bed close by while her sub clung to a rope net angled enough for him to release his weight into it. Her whispers into his ear made his cock hard and poke through the netting – an opportunity I would take advantage off – but her focus was the impact play. Small whips and floggers; she changed implements quickly, never quite getting to the height I needed. Her antics were certainly edging me… A sadist unsatisfied is very dangerous, indeed. I almost felt sorry for Van Helsing. Almost.
My submissive got a chime on his phone. Apparently a girl he invited to the club was being held hostage by her Uber driver outside. The area did look pretty shady and the driver didn’t believe she was going to be safe in an industrial building. My sub was going to leave me to get her. I looked him up and down – yeah, the Uber driver would certainly not let her out of the car if he saw just Van Helsing in his bondage get-up. I decided to come out to help the girl get released from the Uberman.
Just outside the American lass pointed at us and jumped out of the car. I raced over to her, still in my Domme gear, like we were old friends and we hugged. Waving at the Uber driver, I cheerily told him that we were all good and thanks for looking out for her. Somehow he was convinced. We quickly shuttled her inside, she got dressed and met us in the play space.
The American lass, about my age, was a lovely bubbly girl, bright-eyed and very excited to be at the club. She was a tourist, like me, but certainly not new to the lifestyle. At her local club in the U.S she was training to be a House Bunny. The amazing thing about Bunny was how responsive she was to the environment. Everything seemed to physically affect her and her joy was infectious.
There was an open opportunity at the St Andrews cross, and after waiting a little longer to allow locals first dibs, Van Helsing and I claimed the spot.
I put down my bag and laid out my tools on the bench. I went over safety, and I asked if it was ok if he was my practice dummy for a new long flogger I had bought the day before. Consent was given and then I proceeded to run my hands all over his body so he would get used to my touch and feel comfortable with me.
Warming up his ass first with my lighter implements, I was getting a sense of how far I could go with him. He had great masochist potential so I challenged him with some harder play making him count out the strikes. When I got to my long flogger, I reminded him that I would need some practice strokes first to orientate myself. He was cool with that.
The first couple of strokes I realised I needed to swing higher and faster because by the time the ends reached flesh, the weight of them were too heavy and I would end up striking lower than desired. I readjusted my technique and started to make an impact.
A crowd had gathered to watch – I only noticed when I had momentarily stopped to rub and squeeze Van Helsing’s ass before stepping back again for the real stuff.
I was focused on my sub until a man – obviously a leader of the community – broke into my session in front of everyone and offered me his smaller flogger, no longer than my forearm. “It’ll be easier for you,” he said. I really appreciated his concern that my flogger was big, long and heavy for a girl, that it is essentially ‘designed for a man’ (as most of the heavy duty tools seem to be these days) but fuck, I looked at his flogger up and down and declined. He didn’t understand that I needed the thrill of feeling the flogger, using my whole body to wield it, being one with it, as if it was an extension of my arm. With smaller floggers and canes you don’t need much movement in the body to use them, just a flick of the wrist, but with the bigger, longer, heavier tools, I need to use my body weight to lean in, to shift, to cast. It gives me a whole body sensation as I play – I have to physically exert myself with each stroke. It’s very satisfying. The man’s intentions were from the right place – I’m never quick to take offense – and even though my swings might not have been as eloquent at first, by the end, I was owning it and Van Helsing took it like a champ.
In such clubs after my first play, I hope a hardcore masochist would reach out and want to play… But alas, this time no one came forth. There has only ever been one masochist that has surpassed my expectations and exhausted me before his ass was spent… I will always remember him.
It was after twelve and I was famished. Van Helsing, Bunny and I got half dressed and made our way to the McDonald’s down the road. Calories. Yum!
Fuelled up, it was time for Van Helsing and I to get serious. When we returned the club it was uncannily cleared out. Only a few were playing in little makeshift nooks. We chose a corner space divided by black plastic sheets for privacy. I told him to strip and get onto his hands and knees on the floor mats. I always inspect my sub’s ass with my fingers so I can choose the right peg.
Bunny came in and casually sat on the mat next to us.
“Are you going to watch?” I asked, making sure she knew that Van Helsing and I were about to have a session.
“Ooo! Yes, please!” she gleefully chirped.
Taking my fingers out of Van Helsing’s ass, I sat him up. “Is it ok if she watches?” I checked. Of course it was, but I suddenly had other ideas…
Putting on my strap-on, I locked and loaded one of my bigger pegs. When I slipped it into Van Helsing, I saw Bunny’s eyes widen with bright stars. I asked her, “You want to join in?”
She clapped with delight and asked what I wanted her to do. I passed another peg and instructed her to set it against her pussy, kneel at Van Helsing’s head and fuck his mouth. She squealed and clapped again with glee, and did exactly what I told her.
Van Helsing was gurgling on her cock as she fucked his throat, and he was groaning deep as I thrust mine into his ass while holding onto his harness tight. He was pinned between the two of us like a little piggy on a spit. The chuckles from Bunny and I drew attention from the outside and a few voyeurs began to peek through the curtains.
Bunny repositioned herself and she asked if she could kiss him. He accepted and she plunged her lips onto him. She was hungry, primal, almost eating him… Her sexual energy was just too good to watch, she definitely wanted more…
I asked her if she wanted to get fucked. She squealed with excitement. I slipped out my peg and changed the condom while the others rested. Putting my harness on Van Helsing, I made sure his cock was restrained underneath. Bunny bent over and I helped guide the peg into her pussy. No pleasure for him, Van Helsing was just a fuck toy for now. He moved, fucking her like there was no tomorrow while I whispered naughty things in his ear. Bunny was going wild, squeaking with every pump. I wanted to see just how far we could push her…
Putting a condom on Van Helsing, I told him to double penetrate her – cock in pussy, peg in ass. Bunny bent over even more, spreading herself wide in anticipation. Once in and warmed up, Van Helsing was making Bunny laugh like a hyena. I reached under her, squeezing her ample breasts, pinching her nipples, making her whimper and shiver. But it was when I slid my fingers to her clit and played – slapping and squeezing and flicking – that Bunny began to shake and she suddenly squirted all over us. The gush was so powerful it splashed up off the mat. We didn’t stop and it wasn’t long before we were all kneeling in a pool of Bunny’s juices. She was a little embarrassed but no way in hell were we done!
I instructed Bunny to double ride Van Helsing so I could watch her tits bounce while I played with her clit, and she gushed continuously over him. Then standing her up, I made her lean on a stool to bend over with Van Helsing pumping into her ragged holes. From behind I used a peg to hand-fuck Van Helsing’s ass using his movements thrusting into Bunny. Over and over again Bunny would raise her squealing, told onto the stool tightly, squirt to flood and shake violently. She was getting delirious, wobbly, so I came in close to support her on the stool so she could take some more.
Like a waterfall, Bunny squirted, reaching her final body-shaking peak before finally collapsing to the floor, half laughing and catching her breath. She clumsily picked herself up like a baby horse findings it’s leg for the first time and excused herself for the bathroom.
Helping Van Helsing take off my harness, he was still pumping himself.
“You didn’t come?” I whispered.
“No,” he whispered back.
I was a little surprised but I had a sense he was saving himself for me.
Coming in close, our lips collided in a delicate kiss, much different from the hunger that had just happened. He impressed me… how he could match my elegant temper, containing his aggression for a more sultry encounter with me. My hand naturally found his rock hard cock and our kiss deepened. He wanted to fuck me… but most of my subs never get what they want.
Turning him around, I leaned against the window, and him against me. Reaching around, I squeezed his shaft, rubbed over his pre-cum and started pumping as if his cock was my own. With my other hand I felt all over his body – through his hair, down his neck, shoulders, chest and side. He laid back into me, head resting back on my shoulder as my body embraced him, my hand using him. I wanted to spray his cum all over the room on top of the female wetness that had already drenched the place. Coming up to orgasm he held me to go slow. He came as he melted into me.
We rested for a moment, lightly giggling, grasping the experience.
Being good little players, we cleaned up the space – it took us a while. We went to the bathroom and after I sat in the bar. Bunny was there in the middle of an impact session with a German couple. The Dom was finding her giggle zones while his submissive was sucking on Bunny’s nipples.
Van Helsing soon joined me on the lounge to watch the scene playing out in front of us. The club was quiet – it was only the five of us, and the bar tender – so all of Bunny’s moans and squeals could be enjoyed.
The scene turned more aggressive. From behind, the Dom held Bunny’s hands together while he strangled her throat with his other arm. His sub knelt at her pussy, licking and sucking. “I love your taste,” the sub complimented her.
Leaning into Van Helsing, I whispered, “That’s because Bunny is seasoned with your spice.”
He giggled, and leaned closer to ask, “Do you have sex with your subs?”
Yikes. That’s always a tricky question. “It’s not just about orgasm for me, it’s so much more,” I replied. “Sometimes, if the chemistry is right… But it’s rare for subs to get to me.” I raised my gaze and he was right there, his eyes meeting mine.
“Did I get to you?” he asked.
“No,” I confessed. A pang of guilt hit me. He could have got to me, I felt it in our kiss, but I didn’t let him. I give different people different parts of me, never all of me. It’s just how I am. But what I do give is always true.
Resting together in the afterglow, we enjoyed watching Bunny being strangled and fisted, and then squirting all over the sub underneath her while yelling out, “Best. Night. Ever! I love Berlin!”
Van Helsing and I chuckled. It was a good night, a very good night. It’s not often you’d have three strangers from around the world – two cougars and a cub – meeting for a fantastical spit roastie time.
We got dressed, packed our bags and said farewell to Bunny with another Uber. Then there was just me and Van Helsing at 5am standing in the Berlin twilight. These moments are always hard, but precious. We took a picture for keepsake and casually said goodbye.
I had plans to go back to my hotel, get changed and head off to the German Fetish Ball – German clubs are known for going into the pm’s the next day – but I was satisfied. I didn’t need more. I wanted to bask in the experience I just had rather than layering another on top too soon. Savouring a fantastic night is always better.
A Girl With A Dragon Tattoo
I arrived at the fet event stag. I had arranged to meet someone there and didn’t want the complication of arriving with one and going home with another. I wasn’t looking forward to standing alone… I’d much prefer it of course, being an introvert, but it meant I would be free game for the sharks. Being an out-of-towner and not ‘verified’ it would be hard to meet a group of friends for the night to blend in.
Needing to soak up the atmosphere quietly, I found a nice corner where I could enjoy the view of the stage. Events like this were set up for people watching and I took advantage. Every now and then a shark would swim past and I’d conveniently look at my phone and reply back to one of my Kik contacts.
While in mid-text conversation with a New Yorker, a guy sat down next to me. Here we go. Handsome, bright, and a with happy vibe, he introduced himself. I followed social protocol, kicking myself for the only reason he chose me – I was alone. His accent got my attention – I never ask questions, they are just too needy – but it wasn’t long before he revealed he was Italian. That made me understand why he was so handsy and chose cheesy romantic words to (try and) woo me, but I could tell he thought I was submissive. He must have mistaken my lack of words as coyness, my velvet and lace clothes as gentleness, my reserved demeanour as naivety… He likely presumed I was the perfect prey.
The Italian wanted to play with me upstairs – just some spanking… of me. That didn’t sound too interesting. I imagined myself over his knee as he tried to reach my pain threshold, yawning to myself. There has only ever been one person that has spanked me – my mother – and my blatant disregard for it frustrated the hell out of her. “I’m dominant,” I said to the Italian. He ahhed as if he thought that was cute, as if he didn’t believe me. Suddenly I had the immediate urge to bust his balls.
Strapped to the Italian’s side was a swinging flogger. He unclipped it and encouraged me to feel its leather strips, to hold it. The flogger was impressive – good quality and weighted well. “How about we do some flogging instead, huh?” His sexy voice hit my nerves, and as he picked up my hand without permission, he continued, “C’mon, this will be fun”. This dude needed to be taught a lesson, and I was the girl to do it.
I had never been flogged before, or cropped, or strapped… though, I had done it many times to my subs. It’s not that I didn’t want it – I believe a good Domme must experience what they dish out – I just never had the opportunity. I would need someone who would know what they were doing so they could truly appreciate my pain threshold, my control, my power. Being the receiver of pain has nothing to do with submission. It is a causation to help the mind journey… Some are broken down to please, to escape, to prove their love… but I naturally build up vengeance. I wait, and gather… and unleash. I wanted blood and the Italian’s persistence gave me no qualms to get it, so I said, “If you flog me, then I flog you.”
“No, really?” he laughed with glee. “Alright, I’ll flog you and you can flog me,” he agreed, seeming to think I was just being cute, that he was indulging me.
I pertly smiled, “You really don’t know what you are getting yourself into.” He laughed again and guided me up the grated stairs. I wiggled my tail as he followed to help him think I was just a kitten, feeding his assumption of all women. It is astounding how many men believe all women are submissive, that a Domme just hasn’t found the right man… Imbeciles.
We passed a few females on their way down having difficulty with the grated stairs, trying not to get their heels caught between the holes… and there was something about the distance of the steps that made them cautious. I noted it for the way down.
With his hand on the small of my back, the Italian ushered me into a small room that had people already playing. A Dom that I recognised from a particular London BDSM House was supervising. I know him to be particularly sadistic but strict about safety. I wondered what he’d think watching me being ‘coerced’ into play by this Italian.
The couch was occupied by voyeurs and a couple in the middle of a spanking session. The St Andrew’s Cross was available… of course it was. I had used one for flogging a weekend sub at LAM the month before, but I had never used it as a floggee. I stood against the device, legs apart so I could get a good stance in my heels, and waited.
My silence obviously made the flogger think he had to lull me… his hands caressed my shoulders, my arms, my sides, my ass, as he talked about how much he admired my body. Ugh… men surveying womens’ bodies always makes me brutal but I was enjoying how much he was riling me up. I could sense his giddiness, not for the flogging but that he had thought he had caught one so early in the night. The fool. The tepid water was heating… and there was no way he’d sense to jump out before the boiling point.
I felt my boy shorts being tugged on. The Italian obviously wanted my bare ass so I hitched the bottom of my shorts into a thong to expose my netted cheeks. His hands rubbed over them, fingers slid in between. I thought how a normal girl wouldn’t tolerate that, and how much of a normal girl I am definitely not.
I held still for the first flog, the second, the third, the forth…. No movement, no reaction from me. I wanted him to go harder. The harder he’d get, the harder I’d be able to go with him.
He checked in, rubbing my ass. It became quite clear that the ass rubbing was his main reason for wanting to flog me. “You like this, huh?” he whispered in my ear. “You want more?” I looked at him with a ‘do you really have to ask’ attitude. He laughed and stood back.
He repeated this routine several times. He was getting harder and harder and I could tell he was a little astounded at my tolerance. He checked in, rubbing my ass and asking me if it was ok. I tried to be as blazé as possible so he’d get the hint I was a little bored with his efforts. He stood back and again I held the Cross as he flogged harder. My ass was finally heating up, then started the sting. I looked over my shoulder and saw the people on the couch watching. We smiled at each other. It seemed they were curious as to why I wasn’t feeling it.
Ugh… I’d had enough and pushed off the Cross. “It’s your turn,” I said. The Italian laughed at me as if I was cute. I snatched his flogger and I pushed him to turn. He swaggered to the Cross and leaned against the pads. “I don’t think so,” I said. Reaching around, I undid his belt with one hand and released his pants. I hooked my heeled-shoe on them to push the fabric down to the floor. I pulled his underwear to his knees as he laughed wholeheartedly, delighted at my no bullshit approach. He obviously didn’t expect me to be to bold, or forceful. I could tell he was loving it.
I was certainly not in this for the longevity. No slow build up to allow the body to adjust and surpass… I wanted him to feel the pain and know he couldn’t handle it.
There would be no melodic swinging… I stood in my baseball stance to get some leverage from the floor in my heels. Pulling up my backhand, I held the strips with the other for precision. With a snapping motion, I whipped the flogger tips onto the Italian’s ass like a wet towel. He felt it big time but laughed. Again and again I hit the exact same spot, and he knew he was in trouble. Pushing off the cross he said in his Italian-accented drawl, “No, you’re doing it wrong. You’re not supposed to hit in the same place.”
“I do what I want,” I said back and pushed him to the Cross. He chuckled. Ugh. I swapped to his other cheek snapping again and again without mercy, each time getting harder and harder. Before he could push off the Cross, I pushed him back down harder. Grabbing his red, burning ass, I pinched my finger nails in and twisted. He yowled. Whispering into his ear, I said, “See, I told you you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into.”
He laughed with delight, which I hated, but he knew he had got more than he’d bargained for. He pushed off and took the flogger from my hand. It was because he couldn’t handle any more, I knew it, but he was acting as if it was my turn. I laid against the Cross ready for whatever he was going to dish out, hoping it would be hard and painful.
He struck me with greater force. I breathed out the pain, detached myself from it. Holding still didn’t help my flogger – the pretender was hitting me all over the place… ass, legs, and even near the kidneys, (which I didn’t appreciate) but all the while in my mind I was begging him to go harder – I needed justification for my approaching brutality. Pretty soon the bites from the flogging became too close to dissipate and layered on top of each other. The stings were peeking. I remembered seeing girls shake and twitch, jerk and lash out at their Doms for such pain, but I stood there cooool as ice. I could tell he was tiring.
In a break, I pushed off, grabbed the flogger from him and pushed him onto the Cross, undoing his pants again. I started to go to town… the adrenaline in my body was stiffening up my leg muscles, but before I got into a rhythm, the Italian bounced off the pads and grabbed me. “Alright, alright…” he chuckled, “how about some spanking… I love spanking your nice round ass. You’ll enjoy it.” I knew it was just a ploy to stop the flogging, he couldn’t handle more, but if he thought my hands were going to be easier on his ass, he had another thing coming.
Securing my wrist in his hand as if he thought I would escape when we walked past the staircase, he led me to the other side of the play room. We had to pass through a crowd of people, which I suddenly realised where standing around to watch our flogging. The other room was in full swing – fucking, spanking, voyeurs… Conveniently, there was a BDSM bench available – ugh. I had never been on my hands and knees before for a guy to have free access to my ass and pussy. But, I was going to make it worth my while. I turned to him and said, “What ever is done to me, I will do to you ten fold.” He laughed, this time knowing I meant it.
Climbing on the bench, I refused to lay down. The face cushion was smeared with purple-ish-silver makeup. It was a sign of a feminate succumbing to the moment… that was not a place I wanted to go. I steadied myself high on my hands and knees. Again, the Italian felt up my ass, and slipped my boy shorts into my crack for access to my flesh. His fingers tried to wiggle their way into my crack but there’s a reason I wear shorts with no crotch clasp. I knelt there motionless, waiting for my turn to spank the crap out of him.
After the pathetic feel up, the Italian began to spank. His hands created dead beats, no crisp stings, nothing with echoes. I was waiting for the pain to heighten, anything… but the harder he struck, the more I kept waiting. I could hear his jolly amusement when he couldn’t get one reaction out of me.
I looked to the side of me and a man on the couch with a girl in his arm was watching my ass intensely. I caught his eye and I think he saw how bored I was. He smiled – it seemed he knew I wasn’t impressed with my spanko – and I smiled back before returning my gaze to the white corner ahead.
I knelt there in complete reverence, waiting for the Italian to finish. His fingers scratched through my hair and pinched to pull my head back to give himself leverage to spank harder. More and more he spanked as he pulled my hair, my neck hooked back to the extreme. Completely compliant, I waited for my turn. In between the spanks, he felt up my clothed pussy and I revelled in the devious thoughts of what I wanted to do to him in return. Releasing my hair, his spanking stopped and I stood up to get my turn.
“Are you ready for this?” I warned. He laughed, knowing exactly what he was in for. He seemed to think it would be worth it… It now became my passion to make him regret that.
I pushed him onto the bench. He climbed the rest of the way. I pulled his pants and underwear down to his knees to expose his red ass. Moving to the side I started spanking the same spot over and over again until it became unbearable for him. He stood up quickly scratching his ass – a sign that he couldn’t take it. The wuss. I gave him a short break, sweetly smiling at his attempts to win me over with his seductive cooing before pushing him back down on the bench.
Again and again we did this routine, only stopping when he squirmed and stood up so I could push him back down again. I was slapping the pride out of the man and he knew it. The ecstasy flooded in my body as my hand heated up and the muscles in my upper body went silky… I was spanking him to a pulp. Never did he say stop or no – the arrogance in him wouldn’t let him – but that was all he needed to do for it to end. Though, he knew if he couldn’t take it, he’d lose me. The mindfuck was real.
I scratched through his hair and yanked back his head to get more leverage. His body began to shake. He was my bitch now and the punishment had only just begun. I could tell he needed a break so I broke off the spanking, held him in place with his hair and started thrusting my pelvis into his ass, thudding him forward on the bench.
Reaching under him between his legs, I wrapped my hand around his cock and balls. I leaned back using my grip to hold my weight… his cock and balls stretching to the extreme. Raising my hand up high, I positioned my feet for grip onto the floor. Then I came crashing down on him, again and again in quick succession, sting after sting in the same spot. My hand was burning from flesh walloping flesh, but the pain was gratifying.
It wasn’t long before he quickly scurried back off the bench, whimpering in pain, and turned to me. There was a glint in his eye. He finally believed me – when I woman says she is dominant, that she is. However… the fucking wonder in his face… it sacred me a little. I had turned him – rather than seeing me as something to be played with, he finally knew I had the control all along. He was smitten. Quickly he captured my jaw and sucked my lips. It felt more like a impulse, like he had no other choice… But it was the wrong one. If he had fallen to his knees, I would have shown him mercy, but he insisted on having me for his own agenda.
Reaching down, I grabbed his balls, squeezed and twisted to make him stop kissing me. He slapped my jaw, lightly enough not to hurt but strong enough that my head whipped to the side. I slapped his face in return so my hand stung brilliantly. His eyes alighted with fierce desire. Picking me up in his arms again, he said, “fuck me”. I shook my head and said no. “Fuck me please… you know you want to.” The insolence! He tried to kiss me again but I gripped his hair and yanked his head back as hard as I could. He seemed to love it, and that irked me.
We looked down beside us… a couple was fucking each other madly on the floor at our feet… It made me laugh, it made him whimper, “Fuck me please, I need you. You are amazing.” I shook my head and grabbed his cock and wanked it. “We’re so good together…” As he melted back onto the bench, I realised he was right. Our physical chemistry would be amazing… the pain and pleasure of it… divine. “Then if not, suck my cock,” he pleaded. I shook my head again. The guy was an ass.
He wrapped his arms around me and sucked my face, devouring my mouth. I kept jerking him, feeling his pre-cum in my palm. Finally, he released my body to cup my head in his hands… to make me look into his eyes. He was at a point of desperation, the passion was devouring him. As he began to whimper again. I pushed away and slapped his face harder than I expected. His head snapped towards his shoulder and he sighed in pleasure, a huge smile on his face. It was then I knew I could do anything to him and he would lap it up… if it meant he could have me. However, no matter how many times I’d slap him, his arrogance would still be left. It was his arrogance that I was at war with.
I grabbed onto his face – he thought I wanted him to look at me – but I rubbed his pre-cum all up his nose and into his eyes before scratching through his hair and yanking hard to the side. Coming in close, I purred, “Neverrrr.” I slapped him once more and left. The look on his face…? Cut. Ruined. Cheated. Priceless.
Down the stairs I went, being careful, expecting it to be difficult, until I realised it wasn’t… I don’t know why the other girls needed to tiptoe down… I stormed in my high heels and plunged into the crowd. Straight into the toilets, I washed my hands of him, satisfied.
So why’d I do it? For many reasons really. I wanted to fuck with him. I wanted to test-run his quality flogger to see if I wanted to get one for myself. And, I do…lol. I wanted to slap him silly, show him a girl can out-flog him, out-spank him, out-man him…To teach him a lesson about thinking solo girls are easy to prey on. I wanted to lure him in, give him a taste of passion, and then steal it way. The flogging and spanking were just a warm up for the pain inflicted on his pride. But more precisely, I am a girl with a dragon tattoo…
I spent the rest of the night making love to the mad-ass DJ – well, his music. I saw the Italian watching me from afar in several different places of the warehouse, but he didn’t dare approach. I didn’t end up meeting the guy I was supposed to that night but in the end I got to go back to my hotel with someone I actually liked.