READ PART ONE
It shocked us both the day we discovered how much he liked submitting. It felt like a secret. We felt like the first and only people who had ever done such dirty things together. I was nervous, too. I don’t like anything that hints at degradation or humiliation, which in my purview includes things like spitting on or in anyone or anything. Hawk Tuah, Brute? Not for me. I also didn’t know what he liked. And I knew he didn’t know either. It was time for one of my very favorite things–research.
I made him fill out a kink test online and show it to me. I filled it out, too, but didn’t show mine to him. This tiny power move cemented the dynamic in a way we both liked.
It felt important to clarify the boundaries of stepping in and out of the roles. We’d spent at least twenty hours together by the time this happened. He’d been seeing me for about a month, 2-4 hours at a time, 2-4 times a week. It made my whole summer wonderful. I knew him well enough to know when to pull back and have a softer session. But this story isn’t about that. It’s about the gleam in his eye that meant something else.
I hired a domme I knew from Twitter for some Zoom coaching sessions. I learned where to hit, how much to hit, and how to watch the skin so you don’t break it.
He was sure he didn’t need a safe word. The second or third time we played this way, he was naked against the wall in my bedroom.
I watched bright red blotches bloom across his butt cheeks. With the crop in my left hand, I reached between his legs and felt how rock-hard he was. Precum dripped from the top of a very significant cock. My panties instantly got wet enough to wipe the streets of Vienna.
That’s when I began tapping his inner thighs in rapid succession. I leaned in, my breath against his ear.
“You sure you still don’t need a safe word?”
Reader, he thought of one. I booked another Zoom session with the Domme. She taught me the color system, which I find helpful in many more scenarios than intended. Red is full stop. Yellow means we are getting close to the edge. Green, that’s not a thing that ever needs to be said. Blue was new to me and maybe to you. One would call blue if the moment’s emotion feels off, but not the physical. Blue could be used to say, “I like the way you’re hitting me, but I don’t like the way you’re talking to me about it.”
It’s about so much more than hitting, of course. It’s a radical way of getting out of your head and into your body. The contrast of pain and pleasure provides a flood of endorphins, no drugs required.
He was sober. That was part of its beauty. I was showing him that he could experience these extreme states of being without the harm of addictive substances.
Well, addictive substances that aren’t me.
When one is doing BDSM correctly, it’s a lot of talking. A lot of thinking about what one likes and doesn’t like. All the information he gave me informed me more and more about how to show up for him.
One night, as we were cuddled up, practically breathing each other, restraints and clothing in a heap across the room, I turned to him and said, “I think you trust me way more than you ever expected to.”
He laughed and said, “Exactly.”
Spending this much time with the same person was such a joy and privilege. I always strive to give more than I receive. Getting to know someone only makes me better.
I advertise as a vanilla escort, and that’s what I am to people who meet me once. For a lucky few, I have become part of a self-care journey, a wellness team, and your kept flame.
That’s why I started a secret menu. There is more that I am willing to offer for the gentleman who can take the time to get to know me.
I know it’s weird to be an escort and get all, “I don’t do that on the first date!”
I guess I’m just old-fashioned that way.
