Author’s note:  This story has been in my draft file since February 5, 2012.  It is based on someone I saw…only saw at my first BDSM play party in downtown Toronto where I quickly jotted down some notes on my old BlackBerry.  This past weekend I was finally inspired to clean it up and work some details out…likely with the pending play party this coming weekend I will be attending as I take my girlfriend to her first truly BDSM event.

Now…sit back…press play (and you’ve no idea how it tickles me to add a Chicago tune to this post)…and I hope you enjoy…

Karen wore a black corset with spaghetti straps…the cleavage of which drew attention away from her black thick-rimmed glasses.  The attention was also drawn lower, however, to her black fishnet stockings allowing just a hint of pale flesh beneath the red and black kilt.  Top this all off with six-inch stilettos that put her at five-foot-six.  Her hands continually smoothed over her slim belly as she waited…but waited for what?

bdsmMusic rocked the already pulsating room with Annie Lennox belting it out with Aretha Franklin about sisters.  The room itself was dark with gray stone accents and two Saint Andrew’s Crosses as the focal points in each corner at the opposite end of the room…right now both were in use with a submissive strapped to each respectively…one getting tickled and the other getting flogged.

Such a juxtaposition of pleasures, Karen thought.  Between the beat of music and flogging, she felt she could get out and dance on the stone floor.

Also visible was a table that was currently being used for wax play.

This was not Karen’s favorite to watch and she kept her eyes away.

They did, however, find a man straddling what appeared to be a pommel horse where his domme was whipping him with a rubber chicken. Yes, a rubber chicken.

She laughed and waited some more.  Karen felt she was younger than most of the attendees, which surprised her.  Her expectation had been a bunch of young boys taking out their aggression on submissive women…and there was some of that, but not to the level she anticipated.  Instead she was shocked to see the difference in the respect level that the older couples had for each other.

They were not here to hurt someone…they were here to experience the pleasure and share it with each other.

This was what Karen waited for.  After a long week at her bank denying loans, she had felt frustration boil over to the point of finally allowing herself to come to one of these parties.  She had eyed them on the fetish websites long before, but never taken up the opportunity…until now.  Her experience with men was usually with those impressed by her strength that had no backbone…those that felt she would lead them around by the short and curlies…not realizing that Karen wanted someone else to take control.

It had seemed like a BDSM party filled with real dominants and submissives might give her some perspective.  In truth, she had expected to arrive, have a drink, and be disgusted enough to leave after twenty minutes.

So far, she had watched for two hours.  Even the term envious had crossed her mind as she watched one dom cuddling his sub in the aftercare couch after spanking her.

The crowd murmured quietly with the music as just background.  This was not a night club…and this was reiterated as the next song had Joni Mitchell steamrolling paradise to put up a parking lot.

So what was she waiting for?  Karen had never been a wallflower.  She was always one to reach out and grab what she wanted…but here she felt exposed and self conscious.

…then they locked eyes.

Karen, leaning up against the dark wall watching, and the giant of a silver fox with his arm around his submissive.

His hair was white and held in a pony tail that balanced his full beard.  At a good six-foot something, he leaned down and whispered something in his submissive’s ear.

With a smile and nod, the blonde wandered off to look at something else.

He, however, parted the crowd and slowly stepped toward Karen.  “Helmut,” he said as a greeting and offered a hand.

Karen felt intimidated by the giant, but shook his hand nonetheless.  “Karen.”  The intimidation, however, tickled her belly as an idea she began to enjoy.

Helmut stepped beside her, crossed his arms and shared her wall.  “Why are you here, Karen?”  His voice was baritone and gruff with a scent of gentle beneath it.

Karen’s brown eyes looked up over her glasses at him.  “My first time…”

“Yeah, I guessed that.  Best looking woman in the place.  You have no date and you look scared shitless.”  He pointed at the scenes going on.  “I’m not sure if you are scared of what you see, or you are scared to miss something.”

A shrug and a light laugh was all she could produce.

“Well, if you want a tour, I’d be happy to oblige.”

“What about your partner?”

“Bev?”  He chuckled.  “Bev is a friend.  Her husband is the one getting whipped with the rubber chicken, so she went to check on him.”

“So you’re…?”

“Flying solo, sort of.  Single, but in this lifestyle even the definition of being single evolves daily.”  He eyed her.  “How old are you?”

“Twenty-seven,” she answered to her own surprise.  Such a question she would usually answer with an evil-eye stare, but not this time.

“Hmph…younger than my youngest daughter.  She’s twenty-nine and living in Texas with her Catholic husband and Catholic children.”

“You don’t like Catholics?” Karen asked with a wry grin.

“Don’t get me started.”

Karen looked around again and was surprised to feel his massive paw take her little hand and pull her from the wall.

“So what interests you?”

Even at this point, Karen would have been shocked had she known that thirty minutes later she would find herself strapped spread eagle, facing the Saint Andrew’s Cross while Helmut spanked her.  She had writhed at first, trying to escape until she realized it was rather gentle…being her first time, he was taking it easy…but her bottom felt warm from his bare hand as it tapped her a number of times.

It all became a blur until she found herself being cuddled by the beast on the couch upstairs.

“Are you okay?” his deep voice asked.

Craving his body warmth, she simply nodded and snuggled in closer.  Her hand slipped accidentally between his legs and she was shocked by the erection size she felt before snapping his hand back.

Helmut laughed.  “Pull it out.”

A quick glance around, but she did follow his instruction.  She then sat quietly snuggled close with her hand wrapped around an erection that, like the rest of him, was the largest she had ever come in contact with.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

“May I?” she asked in a meek voice she had not heard in years.

He leaned back further on the couch so she could reach him more easily.

To her surprise, even with a few people in the area watching, she lowered her mouth over the erection and tasted him.  Her first thought was how slutty she felt, but then the light feeling in her stomach came again as she allowed herself to be taken by the moment and went with it.

Before long, her mind came back into focus with her riding Helmut on the couch while Stevie Wonder sang Superstition and she orgasmed with a happy scream.  She felt Helmut’s warm cum even through the condom he had her put on him.

Snuggling back against him and self-consciously pulling her skirt back down, she giggled, “I feel like such a slut.”

“Good,” Helmut said with a smile.  “Now you will be my slut.”

At first she did not know how to respond to this.  Then, her own words surprised her.  “Yes, sir.”  She smiled and kissed him.

wickedwed

7 Comments

  1. I’ve wanted to go to a play party with Sir but I don’t think that will be happening any time soon. Thanks for the glimpse in! I hope you and your girlfriend have a great time this coming weekend 🙂

    ~Kazi xxx

  2. As usual… beautiful writing. I love how you have captured the oddness of the situation and yet how it is also something very intimate and electric. Also yay for him being big and older and kind of gruff. I like my dominant men to be ‘interesting’

    Mollyxxx

  3. I would love to go to a play party and feel as free as she did in the end. I’ve never had sex while strangers were around or watched. Even though she might have felt as the loneliest girl in the room in the beginning, she found her place in the end. Nice story 🙂

    Rebel xox

  4. I’ve never been to a play party and likely never will, however, I loved the perspectives here and the rubber chicken…… well, I have a story to tell about a rubber chicken and maybe one day I will, but for now it remains an image in my head as amusing as the image your rubber chicken has now created!!!

    Beautifully written.

    ~Mia~ xx

    Mia

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