So, I may not be a masochist, but I’m definitely going to continue calling myself a switch. For a while I was beginning to wonder.

The past couple of weeks have been difficult ones for me. I felt very distressed and out of control of life. I was in need of some sort of release from my tension — something to break the emotional logjam that I found myself in.

Fortunately, B was more than willing to help me find what I was looking for. Not only is she an experienced bottom, but she also has a good deal of switch to her as well.

We negotiated a few days in advance. She asked for lots of feedback from me: harder, softer, different spot, new toy. I can completely understand that, but at the time I wanted one thing most of all: to be done to, without having to think about it (as much as could be done while still playing safe). I wanted to let go of everything — but B rightfully needed to know how I was handling things. We agreed to compromise as best as we could.

Playtime came. I was definitely in a different mental space than usual. I didn’t want to take any actions. I asked her to undress me first; this is a departure where usually she’s naked, either by my hand or my direction. She thought that this was a bit Dom-like at first, but really it was me just wanting to get into the submissive headspace. She stripped me down, turned me over, and tied my arms and legs to the bed.

It’s amazing how a bit of rope can mean so much. Wearing the rope cuffs feels secure; having them then tied down feels pleasantly restricting. I can describe the reinforcement of the submissive state that it brings me, but there’s something else I feel that’s more nebulous. I really want to explore that further, both as a top and a bottom.

After checking in with me, B started my spanking session. She started off with a slow warmup, knowing that I don’t have the pain tolerance that she does. She asked if I wanted to know what she was using, and I refused, but I recognized the riding crop, wooden spoon, lexan cane, and wooden shoe horn, as well as her bare hands. Each felt different against my skin, but ultimately they came down to one thing: pain.

I generally try to avoid pain. The first time I bottomed with B, I had the option of saying “stop” at any time. I used this as soon as I felt the burning. In my mind, at the time once it started to feel “unpleasant”, there was no point in continuing, so I would ask to stop.

This time was different. I wanted the intense experience. I went in with the intention of not stopping things until it was truly unbearable. I still didn’t know exactly where that was, or how I would react, but I was determined to last longer than before.

I still called out “stop”, but this time B knew to not listen. In addition to “red” as a safeword, we have a number system from one to ten. One means “I barely feel that”; ten means “stop now, scene over.” Nine means “time to stop… but maybe just one more.” (B actually called out a 0.5 after one of my flubbed hits; that immediately earned her a level-eight on the next attempt.)

When she beat me, I would call out “no” and “stop,” expecting and wanting it to continue. It felt good to do so, and I’m not really sure why. I knew full well that I was asking for the pain, and could really stop it at any time — but screaming unheeded negatives still satisfied some sort of inner calling I had.

She took me up the intensity levels one by one. Call out your numbers. When we get to six, then we’ll stop. Are you doing OK? Good, now let’s go to seven. Are you ready to try eight? Time for a break. Now, we’re going to nine. I answered “no” to most of her questions and commands, but we both knew what that meant. Five was pleasant, six was painful, seven hurt a lot, eight was excruciating, and at nine I couldn’t think about anything else.

Sometime around seven was when I started crying.

B talks about how receiving pain lets her be honest. Nobody judges someone who is being beaten that severely, so she can be free to do whatever she needs to in that moment; cry, laugh, scream, swear, beg. Who will criticize you when you’re going through that?

I know what that means now. In the middle of a scene like that you can let go of (almost) all the pretense, expectation, and facade that you carry. And that was something I needed to do.

It’s not an easy thing admitting it. Even past the masculine stereotypes, I don’t like crying or saying that I do. I debated writing about it here. But I want this to be an exploration, and that means peaking into certain places precisely because they are troubling. Once I decide to write, I’m forced to find out what and how, and that can lead me to new things. Like this paragraph, for instance.

When it was over, B asked whether I had enjoyed it, whether I had fun. The best answer I had was “It was what I wanted.” I didn’t like crying; the pain didn’t turn me on. It was not pleasant or happy or anything else normally positive. But I felt much better after than I did before it began. I was relieved. It did what I wanted it to do. And I was very happy for that.

Friday was my first visit to Realm of Fantasy at the Calgary Adult Playground Club.

I went with B, who has been there several times. I really appreciated having her with me, as she helped introduce me to the scene; she made the experience much less nerve-wracking.

CAPC is pretty much as it was described to me. It’s in a crappy location which makes for an excellent location for not being noticed. It’s address isn’t publicized, so you’d never know it was there if you’re not looking for it. If you want to go, you have to get an invite from someone in the community, but getting one isn’t difficult. It’s a small place, and not impeccably decorated, but it is very well suited for what it is. I actually like the small size, at it feels cozy — important for intimate encounters.

Friday was the last day of Stampede, so CAPC was relatively empty; I counted 15 people there at the peak. What was most important was that I saw a few familiar faces; it let me get comfortable more easily.

A few of those familiar faces had a great scene involving rope suspension and electric play. I’m going to hold off on the details, given that I was just a spectator and didn’t ask about sharing this with The Internet. But suffice to say that it was amazing. On my first night out, I was treated to two of the more hardcore activities

And the best part? That could easily have be me there playing. In fact, there’s an electrosex workshop coming up on August 13th. To get in on the action, all I or anyone else need to do is: 1) find someone who is into the activity and/or has the right equipment (and there’s quite a few out there) and 2) ask.

But that will come later. The show was a great treat, but Friday was about playing with B. This was my first time playing outside my house, but since the club was mostly empty, there wasn’t anyone watching us… so I don’t really feel like I was really in public. I’m actually a little bit disappointed by that — though it’s really a good first step. B was much more nervous and excited about it. But then, she was topless.

And speaking of B, she wrote about our playtime on her own blog, and she did a pretty damn good job of it too, so I’ll leave most of the gory details to her. She even has pictures! I will let you in on a few secrets though.

Shhh. Come closer.

Ok. Now, you won’t tell her, right?

Ok, good.

At the time, I often felt like I didn’t know what I was doing. Thankfully B’s glowing report has mostly laid that to rest. Still, I was sort of intimidated and I think that came out in my play. I’m going to attribute this to several factors:

• Brand new place, out of my element.
• I had just watched a scene that was lightyears beyond the things I was doing.
• Public, with people potentially watching at any time. Being seen naked doesn’t necessarily embarrass me, but being seen fucking up (especially in front of advanced players) is my nightmare.
• It was difficult to gauge B’s reactions. She says she was quieter than usual (probably from being in a public place), and the club music (though not obnoxiously loud) made it hard to hear her. That, and she was face-down most of the time.

All in all though I’d call it a success. I did enjoy myself, and B definitely did too (especially the nasty bruise I left on her). It wasn’t an incredible mind-blowing experience, but that’s OK, because it wasn’t at all horrible. What that means is that it will get better from here. I’m already looking forward to next weekend; there’s a predicament bondage workshop that looks like a lot of fun. In fact, I’m already scheming.

My second play date with B went as well as the first, this time with a bit of a different flavor.

Perhaps the biggest event of note was that B got to give me a spanking, implemented through wooden spoon, lexan cane, tiny flogger, and bare hands. As I has suspected earlier, during the more intense parts I tried very hard to fight it. Fortunately I insisted on being restrained; I was cuffed to the bed securely enough that I couldn’t move away or protect my tender parts. Instead, all I could do was breathe, strain, scream… and swear. Lots of that happened.

I think it’s telling that, after we were done, the most sore parts of me was not my ass, but my arm and leg muscles… a result of me pulling on the cuffs. I nearly pulled out of one of them (they’re cheap and not terribly secure). B said that she was giving it at about a 5 out of 10. That sounds about right. I do not claim any particularly high level of pain tolerance. One thing I noticed was that I called “stop” without hitting any particular sensation; it was mostly arbitrary past a certain amount of pain. I’m pretty sure I could hold off on safewording if I had a particular goal to achieve. Perhaps if I was less in control (gagged?) I might be able to take more too.

So, I have crossed “masochist” of my own personal kink list. The pain was painful, and not pleasurable. On the other hand, I liked the experience on a mental level, and I’ll definitely try it again sometime. Also, I now know the difference between “thuddy” and “stingy”, and I find the former quite pleasant; I could probably go for an extended session of that. (It’s just less of a turn on for a sadist like B. )

I’m going to cross “disciplinarian” off my list too. I gave B some punishment tasks in response to some of her purportedly-failed personal improvement goals. She ended up bursting into laughter, and I couldn’t help but join her. At first I tried to be all stern-Dom, but in the end I couldn’t take the act seriously. And when her punishment flipped her own switch from enjoyment to being pissed-off, it very much killed the gratification for me. I’d much rather concentrate on the “funishment” as B likes to call it.

But removing these activities from my menu isn’t a negative thing at all. I’m doing exactly what I want to be doing: trying, evaluating, and deciding. If you want a positive spin, I’m calling my tastes more refined and focused now.

On the other hand: clover clamps are now one of my favorite toys. They tighten the harder you pull on them, so they’re great for varying intensity of play. It doesn’t take much to go from ouch to gasping. The only problem is that they start off strong so they won’t suit just anybody. Fortunately, B has a high pain tolerance so she can (and will!) wear them. They’re also great for ensuring that a sub will follow along; really, the problem was that B followed too quickly.

Squirting! B treated me to my first female ejaculation experience. It was exactly what I had expected… a sudden gush of incredibly hot liquid (on my hand in this case) accompanied by a tremendous orgasm. It’s an incredibly sexy thing, and I really enjoy it when I can coax that reaction out of B.

Of course, no good deed goes unpunished, and B found out the hard way that I really like orgasm control denial. It’s one of my most favorite activities. I played a game with her (pretty much without her consent, though I didn’t hear her complain too much). I would rub her clit to make her come, but only while she was looking into my eyes. This is, of course, not as easy as it sounds, especially for B; she likes to close her eyes, turn her head, etc. She was so needing to come though that any interruption was immediately noticed… quite intensely. It looked like torture to her… which was exactly what I was going for.

And of course, there was much spanking, slapping, and beating. This time, it included bare-hands to her breasts. This is a bit of a scary thing for me, but B enjoyed it so much that I was able to keep up the fervor without any difficulty. B is so wonderfully responsive that it’s easy for me to stay encouraged.

We also talked a lot, and spent time just lying and cuddling. I definitely like the intimate connection; I don’t think I could really play with anyone without at least some amount of attachment. Though, as with everything, I do want to try. I might even be able to be more cruel that way, who knows.

It was another great play session, and we both enjoyed it tremendously. We’re planning on going to Realm of Fantasy (Calgary’s kink club) this Friday; neither of us can wait for the weekend to arrive. It will be my first time there and our first public event together. Expect another blog post in the very near future.

I had my first extramarital and kinky encounter yesterday with B, a friend from the Scene here in Calgary.

This isn’t quite a gory details post. We played for over ten hours, and there’s no way I can remember all the nitty gritty. But I will sexify it as much as possible.

B and I had met online just two weeks ago. Chat lead to dinner, and dinner lead to a promise to play on Canada Day, which we both had off. Buildup ensued…

Shopping came first. This being Cow Town, there’s a Lammles Western Wear and Tack Shop nearby. I went in to get the only item I could ever envision buying in a place like that: a riding crop. Next was Petsmart for a dog collar, and Home Depot for rope and chain. Protip: get your chain for a collar leash at Home Depot instead of Petsmart; it’s one third the price and you can customize it to your liking. Also, I discovered that it’s nigh impossible to find EMT / safety / get-me-the-fuck-out-of-these-ropes shears at any non-specialty-medical store in this city; none of the drug stores even know what they are. Fortunately I had an acceptable backup. Update: Crap, MEC sells them. Well, I’m making a trip today.

Thursday came and brought with it much housecleaning, primping, and nervousness. L was very kind enough to make herself scarce for the day, so B and I had the house to ourselves. When I picked her up, I gave her a big hug and a kiss; I had told her before that I was going to do this, but it still took her a bit by surprise.

B is a very shy and reserved person. However, she also knows what she wants and freely expresses it. The division in her manner is very stark and a bit surreal; she’ll boisterously talk about wanting to be spanked and otherwise abused, but change the subject even slightly to a different area (even one that is related) and she’ll become exceedingly bashful. I love this about her. She is so adorable when she’s embarrassed, and seeing her in that state really turns me on. (She also enjoys it too, so I don’t feel bad about pushing those particular buttons.)

She was also very nervous at our first encounter, which in turn helped me. To compensate and reassure her, I boost my outward confidence. Consequently, I increase my Domliness, which she very much enjoys. This positive feedback loop is exactly what I look for.

I kissed her, caressed her. I stripped her down, I led her around. I gave her orders and she (mostly) obeyed. I moved slowly and enjoyed every minute of it. This was what I’d been waiting for for so many years.

B is a pain slut, a true masochist. She needs the hurt. I was quite happy to give it to her too. I beat her with almost everything I could get my hands on (and my hands too). I made all sorts of marks and slappy noises. I twisted, pulled, bit, and clamped her nipples until she couldn’t stand even gentle touches. I pulled her hair, pulled on her chain, bit her ass, and dug my fingers into her welts. She in turn gave me amazing gasps, moans, screams, and cries. She couldn’t hold still, but that was fine, because it gave me an excuse to hold her down. If I didn’t know she wanted this, then I would have felt bad — but there was no hesitation on my part the entire night. I am very proud of that.

She asked me later what my favorite part was. I thought about that and gave her this answer. None of the particular activities turn me on per se. What gets me going is the reaction I get. Seeing her face light up in agony and knowing that she wants it is what drives me. Knowing that I can give her what she wants turns me on.

Playing with B for my first time was ideal. She has a high pain tolerance, so I don’t have to work about holding back too much. If anything, I was too gentle at times, but it’s easy to escalate. Conversely, I was able to give her too much pain too; at first I was concerned that this wouldn’t be the case. This means that I know I can bracket both ends of the intensity spectrum. I was also able to find the sweet spot relatively easily. B is also very communicative; she has no qualms about asking for more, less, or different. As a new Domlet I really couldn’t ask for anything more.

On the other hand, I need a lot more practice on my rope bondage skills.

Looking back, I’m very glad that we had negotiated & discussed as much as we did in advance. As well as the physical factors, there were a lot of emotional events that came up for us. But because I knew more or less what to expect, I was able to take them in stride and not overreact.

And, after all was said and done, we both had a really good time.