I haven't been able to sit down for three days. My derrière is a vibrant rainbow of blues, purples and greens and it hurts... a lot.
When E.L. James wrote Fifty Shades of Grey, she left out a very tiny detail...the truth. The truth about how much it bloody hurts to get spanked. And how do I know? Well I tried it, of course! Yes ladies, I went to a BDSM dungeon and spent an hour with a 6ft, leather-clad dominatrix, getting whipped, whacked and walloped. All in the name of research, and the burning need to understand why!?! Why does torture turn some people on?
Knowing very little about the shady world of S&M and having only limited experience with bondage (and by 'limited' I mean the silly fluffy handcuffs you buy at Bras N Things), it was no easy feat deciding on the perfect Dom to surrender to…dignity and all.
I did know, however, that I needed to feel safe at all times and have control over how the session would run if I was going to go through with this. If I felt uncomfortable or uneasy at any time, I would simply walk away from the experience. It is important for you lovely readers to understand I would NEVER jeopardise my safety or push past my personal limits. And nor should you...ever!
I decided on Mistress V. She had her own fully equipped dungeon (as you do) and was supportive and sensitive as we arranged the details of the night.
Would you require spanking? Yes. How about a bit of slave training? Sure, why not. Fancy some pegs on the nipples? Ermm, no thank you. The electric shock kit is really quite exciting! Is it? Okay, if you say so.
And so the date was set.
But what does one wear when visiting a Dom?
Mistress V kindly suggested perhaps fetish wear (but I could hardly turn up dressed as shoe now, could I) so I decided on a mesh-type onesie and some stripper heels I borrowed from a friend (who is in fact a stripper!).
I arrived early. Her front door had a huge brass knocker. It scared me. I felt like I was in a horror movie. I could only muster a tiny tap on the window. The door creaked open and a robust woman smiled, welcoming me to the House of Hell. Kidding! Her job was to show me to the dungeon and instruct me to kneel in the centre of the room, where I was to await the Mistress.
My mind raced. The anticipation was excruciating and we hadn't even begun. I curiously surveyed my surroundings, hoping to find a clearly marked exit door. No luck. There were, however, all sorts of scary-looking torture devices hanging from the walls, a sex swing in one corner and an old fashion torture table in the other. Whips, chains, ropes and plenty of freaky-looking surgical instruments spilled over from tables and cabinets. A mannequin in a gas mask and full leather get-up was taking great joy in staring me down. As I was wondered why the clear perspex box had a toilet seat on top of it, the door flew open.
"Bow your head!" Mistress V roared.
I laughed. I couldn't help it. It was all just so funny. What was I doing here?
"Get up here, you bad, bad, little girl!"
Although her voice was harsh, Mistress V's touch was soft and she gently tied me face down on the torture table. I could see myself in the mirror and the naughtiness of my reflection had me in giggles once again. Oh! If my family could see me now!
Our safe word was 'mercy'. I was to shout it out loud and clear should the whipping become too much. I can handle it, I smugly thought to myself. Mistress V began by warming up my backside with light smacks from her palm, bringing the blood to the surface to avoid excessive bruising and soreness.
"You have the perfect behind for spanking. It's so fleshy with lots of extra padding." (Thanks for the compliment?).
The leather paddle landed smack bang on the center of my tender tush. Pffft, that didn't hurt (it didn't really turn me on either). Whack! Whack! Whack! went the paddle.
Satisfied with the warm-up - yes, that was just the warm-up! - Mistress V went on to beat my bottom with an array of her favourite implements. Riding crops, multi-tail whips, a wooden ping-pong bat, and leather floggers, all leaving their winning welts. With each new toy, the pain got worst. But I was still not at my limit. And then came the cane.
The cane is the most painful of all the spankers and I'd be lying if I said I didn't let out a hearty yelp when the wooden stick struck my skin. The sting was unbelievable. By the fourth strike, I had struck out. MERCCCCCCYYYYYY!
So what did I learn from my first BDSM experience? Approach with care. Play safe and within the rules. To be honest, I'm still not entirely sure what is gained from having someone belt your backside for lengthy periods of time. Perhaps within a relationship it's different. Maybe the surrender of control to a lover is hotter than it is to stranger in a razor-studded corset.
Although, I will admit this much: the electric shock kit that came next was indeed very exciting.