Of whipping and being a dominatrix

Everything here might or might not happen... depending on how wild your imagination is...

As the usual rendesvous', they all started with the Internet Relay Chat Service. Accepting invites to various rooms, like playing a game of hide and seek. Peek-a-boo, yoohoo... here I am, talk to me. Feathered in absurdly fashioned nicknames, vying for attention... pick me, pick me... talk to me... Shamelessly flaunting things that you may not have... oh of course... My breasts are mountains, come play within these valleys... or... Of course I could tie you up... maybe... No, I'm free of STD's.

Then comes the one savior... the one who stands out from the rest... and catching your eye... then... Let's meet, where are you... Of course, any pictures?... The usual a/s/l questions... Don't you ever get tired of it? Of course you say, but there is the fun of it all... The one who breaks all moulds, the one who doesn't always start their questions with Hey baby, let's shag... not... I love vaginas... never... Who are you.... Never one of these lame people.

Then you find yourself in a car, on a motorcycle, or walking. Meeting strangers, comforting your fears with "a stranger's just a friend you haven't met". Out for sex, camouflaged by dinners, books or trips to the mall... Comfortable without the usual mask you wear for society, but with a mask of impurity. Basking in the glory of not being caught... Laughing away the day... or night... Anticipation of a new adventure soon to come... Between sheets and sins...

Finding yourself being tied up... or tying someone up. Between being whipped or the one whipping. Every slashing sound like a catalyst, rushing between your erythrocytes. Shivering with every little pain inflicted, getting more and more excited with every moan. Every words of pain soothes your own wounds inside, calms your own insecurities... You slowly accepting that you are someone... Bigger, smaller... depending on who wears the collar.

Finally, letting that rush of pleasure passing through your groins. Wanting it to happen again and again... Shamelessly being ashamed, taunting and taunted... Gaining your self worth by losing respect... Licking every drop of your humility. Wasn't that fun? Walking out of the cramped hotel space, bruised but alive. Knowing that what happened was the deepest kind of trust, the loveliest kind of affection ... and finding yourself in front of the blue screen yet again... another adventure unravelling.