I was delivered to his door, blindfolded, not knowing who to expect. Would it be one of the several men known to me already, or the one uknown quantity?
I was excited and apprehensive in equal measure when he finally spoke, confirming he was the latter.
He was in no hurry to start, seeming to be quietly observing me; I could see nothing through my blindfold, and I heard no sound but his breathing as he moved around me.
Then, we traded back and forth for some time, trying to figure the other out. He telling me what he intended to do, whilst also carefully checking in with my limits. I, reassuring and goading him in equal measure.
I didn't have anything new to offer from the short written version of my limits that he had seen in advance.
My theory on limits and safe words is quite simple: I'll tell you the basics and we can agree a traffic light system in principle, but if I'm not comfortable I'll stand up and walk away. If you put me in a very deep, submissive state I'll be powerless to stop you doing anything you want anyway, so a safe word is useless. And frankly, if you've managed to get me that far you're entitled to take everything you want.
Still blindfolded, I was bent over the desk, my dress raised and my knickers to my knees, as he began beating with his various weapons. A flogger first.Then a paddle, of sorts. Something else, quite strange: a book!
I quietly received the initial blows appraising his ability, his judgment. I barely noticed how it felt, focused on deciding whether I could trust him enough to let go.
He encouraged me to be more vocal, which I did as he warmed into it, getting harder. His cane, thick and thuddy (very unfamiliar to me) drew a few gasps. Especially as he placed it in the same spot, over and over.
All the while we easily bantered back and forth, amusing ourselves with our cleverness.
When he drew me back to standing and removed the blindfold I wondered were we done. His fingers suddenly thrusting into me made me squirm. The wetness, the eagerness, all too apparent and he tried to shame me about it, but I looked back at him evenly, hiding any disquiet I felt.
"First your mind, then your body, then your soul"
Binding my arms behind my back I was made to kneel down, legs slightly apart, then to lay my forehead on the floor. It was a vulnerable and revealing position.
Despite having been fucked by, and played with a lot of men, and not being remotely shy about being naked, I still blushed inwardly as I thought of him taking his first view of me, open and exposed.
The cane strokes were much more difficult in this position, his probing fingers more humiliating: I couldn't help but cry out. And his words were starting to get to me too, until the point where I couldn't answer back anymore; he laughed that my wits had finally deserted me.
It didn't take long for the tears to start falling; soon I was crying softly.
When I was permitted to stand I couldn't look him in the eye anymore.
He was amused:
"I can, and will make you do that, but that's enough, for now."
A flame had been ignited: Mr Flame.
