“Okay. One more question. Is there anything you’ve seen or heard about that turns you completely off?”
“No, Sir.” There are a lot of things that turn me completely on, but I’m not about to point them out to him.
He leads me from the main room to a hallway and stops at a private room. Before I can fully panic, we’re inside, the door closed and locked. I see that his play bag is already in the room. It’s open and sitting on the floor next to a black leather loveseat. There’s a spanking bench in the middle of the room that excites me. If I could have chosen one apparatus to try first, it would be a bench like this one.
“Have you ever experienced impact play before?” he asks me.
I shake my head. “No, Sir.” It’s odd calling him Sir after all the time we’ve spent together, but it also feels natural in a way. I like it, and judging by his expression, he likes it too. “I’ve never experienced anything at all.”
“Okay.” He cups both my cheeks and tips my head back. “You’re not the only submissive I’ve had the pleasure of dominating for the first time. I’ve been a Dom for a long time. There are very few apparatuses that I’m not familiar with, and I would never do anything with a newbie that I wasn’t one hundred percent comfortable with.”
I swallow, holding his gaze.
“I thought we’d start with a spanking bench. It’s the most common piece of equipment in the fetish community and extremely versatile. At first, I want you to get into position and I’ll warm you up a bit with a pair of floggers. You’ll keep your clothes on. I won’t restrain you. It will feel like a massage except I’m going to focus on your bottom.”
I nod. He’s being so kind and gentle with me. I couldn’t ask for more.
He leads me to the bench. “You can take off your shoes if you want.”
I reach down and unbuckle my wedges. It does seem like I’d be more comfortable barefoot.
He’s waiting for me at the end of the bench, and when I approach, he lifts me by the waist and situates me over the padding.
I’m breathing heavily as I rest my forearms and knees on the separate padded sections. My torso is on the main part of the bench.
Hudson sets a hand on my back and smooths it up and down. “You comfortable?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He rounds to the end of the bench and sets both palms on my butt. “I’m going to stay in this area. Thighs. Bottom. I’ll start gently and build up. Pain is not my goal. Relaxation is. I’m sure you’re familiar with a safeword. Do you have one you’d prefer, or is red okay?”
“Red is fine, Sir.”
“Good. Yellow if you need me to slow down.”
I draw in a deep breath while he grabs his floggers and starts swinging them through the air. He’s making figure eights in a rhythmic pattern I’ve seen before. I already know I’m going to enjoy this. Honestly, what has me most nervous is that I’m worried about how much I might like playing. Dipping my toe into this pond is a huge step for me. I’m not at all sure I’m prepared to fully step into the lifestyle and participate publicly. But I’m here. And Master Hudson is the first man I’ve ever felt comfortable enough with to give this a try.
When the long strips of leather first strike my butt, I barely notice. I flinch for no reason. With my jeans on it’s hard to be certain anything touched me. This relaxes me a great deal, and Master Hudson—when did I start thinking of him by that title?—increases the pressure gradually as he promised.
The pressure is soothing. It’s also predictable the way he’s doing it. I know sometimes a Dom likes to strike in this manner, while other times he or she might use just one flogger and strike at random. For my first time, I’m glad Master Hudson has chosen this method.
After a few minutes, he stops and comes to my side, crouching down to meet my gaze. “How are you doing?”
“Fine, Sir.”
“Do you want me to increase the impact?”
“Yes, Sir. I’d like that.”
He smiles. “Good girl.” And then he rounds behind me again and picks up the speed and proximity.
God, it feels amazing. Why have I wasted so many years watching this from the sidelines? I know the answer. I’ve never trusted anyone enough to enter this club as a submissive.
My butt and my thighs are tingling and heated. Every strike is making my body hum too. I’m aroused. I hadn’t known if that would really happen for sure, but there’s no denying my breasts are swollen and my pussy is wet and pulsing against my jeans.
The next time Master Hudson stops, I moan.
He smiles at me again. “I guess you’re comfortable.”
“Yes, Sir. I really like it.”
“I’m going to ask you something personal, Cindy.”
“Okay, Sir.” I lick my lips and grip the padding with my fingers.
“For some people, they get the release they need strictly from the impact. Others get aroused. Are you aroused?”
I feel my face flush. “Yes, Sir.” I squirm on the bench, suddenly ten times hornier than ten seconds ago.
He cups my cheek. “Let me make a suggestion. It’s totally up to you. My clothes are going to stay on tonight, so don’t get the wrong idea. But you will probably enjoy this even more if you take off your jeans.”
I swallow, hesitating. Should I? He’s promised not to remove his clothes. I know he would never back down from that, but what about me? I’m slightly embarrassed for no reason. He’s seen aroused women before. I’m not the first.
Do it, I tell myself. Live. Stop hiding. Do it.
I push myself up a few inches. “Okay, Sir.”
He takes my hand and helps me stand. I’m shaking too badly to undo my jeans, so he does it for me. He lowers the zipper slowly and then eases them down my legs.
I’ve never been more grateful for my underwear selection than I am tonight. A black lace thong that matches my bra. A set I stared at for a long time this afternoon before putting them on just in case. Apparently, I’m living the “just in case.”
Master Hudson doesn’t comment, thank God. He sets my jeans aside and lifts me back onto the bench.
I purse my lips. I feel so much more exposed now. My thighs are wide. My pussy is exposed. The small triangle of lace and silk is soaked between my legs. My butt cheeks are completely at his mercy.
When he sets his palms on them, I moan involuntarily. God, I want him to touch me. I’m nearly panting with need. He molds his fingers to my flesh and squeezes, parting my cheeks over and over, learning my contours.
By the time he releases me and picks up the floggers again, I’m panting. He strikes me so gently, backing up and slowing down to accommodate for my bare skin.
Heaven. My God. So fucking sweet. My butt heats rapidly. I’m sure it’s red. I want to see it. I can’t wait to look in the mirror later when I’m alone.
His strikes move lower, and when he starts flogging the juncture between my thighs and my butt, I gasp. Holy shit. I’m so aroused. I wish he would let the leather strips land on my pussy. I’m pretty sure I would come instantly. And that’s saying something. I’ve always needed a lot of effort to reach orgasm. Often to the point of embarrassment.