The anxiety, the joy, the childish playfulness - the first play date.
Nia and I have had dinner several times, chatting about play. She has a husband and another secondary partner, but neither is really as interested in S/M as she is. We grew from meeting online to meeting to discuss kinkdom in general to negotiating with her primary and secondary partners about she and I playing.
We did extensive negotiating, in person, over the phone, in email, and using an online negotiation tool. Somehow I was able to convince her - and by extension, her husband and her other lover - that allowing me to do terrible things to her would be a happy thing.
Generally I play with more experienced players, and she has only dabbled in a bit of bondage play previously. We both approached this date like a pair of 14 year old virgins who have decided to Do The Rite Of Passage To Grown-Up-Hood, each of us from our individual experiences. I think it ended up being a marvelously perfect mix.
I fed her, of course. She thought the dinner was fine, but I definitely learned the hard way that when I add those little baby corn abortions to a stir-fry, I should make sure that the label doesn't say anything about being pickled or fermented or any such thing... it ruined the balance of lightly steamed vegetables and teriyaki scallops. She was cute as hell when I not only gave her her very first "now I'm a member of the club" handcuff key for her key chain, but I also allowed her to try to use her chopsticks with a pair of handcuffs on. She was pretty good with the industry standard [along with S&W] Peerless handcuffs, but it did cross her up a bit [hehehehehe] when I pulled out a pair - the Fury 15900 from Spain - requiring a totally different key.
After dinner I started with removing her clothes. She asked me if wanted her to undress or if I'd like to do it and since most of my play partners simply dump their clothes and jump in, I told her I'd like to do it. By the time her clothes were off, she had no doubts who would be in charge, and realized that the entire evening would be an E ride ticket. Hehehehehehe. Next I applied a full body rope harness, a 50' length of black and white rope. She was stunning [and, I do believe, a tad bit stunned - apparently no one had ever bound her breasts quite that intensely]. Moving back to the sling room, I started to apply saran wrap, around and around her head. I had first put a snorkel in her mouth to concentrate her mind on her breathing, as well as headphones playing trance music and a blindfold. All that was wrapped inside [I left her nares clear as well, to ease her anxiety] and the saran wrap - over top of the rope harness - was soon head to foot. She was charmingly frisky with her hands, wrapped down to her side but the hands themselves temporarily free, and just about the level of my codpiece as I was moving around her doing my wrapping... I certainly did enjoy her playfulness. I zipped a cinnamon tictac down the snorkel to take control of her sense of taste and smell, eased her back horizontal on the sling, and saran wrapped her legs vertical up to the supportive chains. And that's about when I decided to go get a fresh cup of coffee.
Topping is such hard work, you know.
Actually, after I've either restricted or taken control of all available senses, I like to insert a short period of absolutely no outside [i.e., from me] stimuli, and let the bottom quietly adjust to their new situation. A year or so ago I watched an inning and a half of the Mariners while watching my date settle in.
Five minutes of watching her and sipping my coffee I started to slowly add random and unpredictable sensation. It varied from a fistful of feathers to the edge of a t anto blade, a tuning fork to a pair of modern plastic mousetraps. After I cut out patches of saran wrap over her beautifully large and responsive nipples, the above and a few other devices were really put to good effect. It's amazing how a half hour or so wrapped in a constricting restraint ups the sensitivity of erectile tissue logarithmically. Occasionally I'd crawl under the sling and come at her from an unexpected direction [the sling is in a room the size of a small shoe box]. And after sufficient build-up, I cut the wrap off from her crotch and started adding yet another new level of sensation.
One thing Nia hadn't really conveyed to me previously - I guess it's one of those things where words do fail - is that when she cums, she has those marvelous 'train-wreck' orgasms. Indeed. Wow. Way wow. Words fail me too, but it was delicious.
After she sorta started to slowly catch her breath I cut her out of the saran wrap, removed the rope harness - allowing blood to exhilarate her beautiful freshly unbound breasts, covered her in a blanket, and started to feed her OJ. I'd found this cute little flexi-strawed child's drinking cup that worked well for someone horizontal. Inch by inch, sense by sense, she returned from her journey and we added some wood to the fireplace and chit chatted some. She held onto that darn blanket I'd wrapped her in more firmly than Linus ever did. Eventually we moved on back to my bed, where I was able to assist in another of her train wrecks, and she was able to do some field research in the vigorous stimulation of a male prostate.
All in all, she and I both felt it was a wonderfully successful first experiment. She was able to make her "I'm safe, dear" phone call to her husband right on schedule and she returned home quite intact. She was rewarded in that her risking trust in an edgy and new situation was shown to be trust well risked, and we both enjoyed the sensual touches we exchanged. I found out she's having a birthday this week and - since she says that she really loves bondage - I told her I'd dust off some of my old medical leather restraints sometime soon in a birthday bondage extravaganza. I'm so there, and she sounds pretty anticipatory :) .
Life as a professional level slut is indeed good.
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