Bits of a BDSM party.

-He didn't tie me up. He simply put my hands in place on a St. Andrew's cross and when my hands moved or I looked to the side he made me hurt. He was making me hurt anyway, but if I disobeyed it was much, much worse.

-"This is a real soft deerskin flogger, so it doesn't hurt at all, it's just like a massage"--LIES. FILTHY LIES.

-Even when you are ass-naked in front of about 60 people, it's impossible to be self-conscious of your body when someone is whaling on your back and ass hard enough to put tears in your eyes. You don't remember to suck in your stomach.

-However, I am horribly self-conscious about my inability to take pain the way those other freaks seem to. Not that I'm a complete wuss, but my "stupid noises" threshhold is ridiculously low (some people told me this was a plus) and unfortunately my "okay, stop now" threshhold is not really up to Serious BDSM Standards.

-He hit me with a chain. Big chunky metal chain like I was losing a biker fight. Surprisingly it hurt less than the "so soft, just a massage" deerskin (possibly because he was more timid about using it hard). Just a big, hard, deep impact and sexy as hell.

-Hey, a Wartenberg Wheel really does feel like your skin is being cut open! Uncannily so! Yikes! (Also, it's difficult to spell. Whartenburg?)

-If you have a really, really firm grip on my nipples, you can make me do pretty much anything you like.

-I think my favorite toy is hands. I hate to say that in the face of $8000 worth of dead cow and surgical steel and I don't discount its awesomeness, but there's something hopelessly beautiful about being controlled with nothing more than one hand on my throat and one hand beating the hell out of me.

-I was high afterwards, literally high, with my muscles shaking and my mind dazed. It was a strange and thrilling feeling.

-I didn't technically get laid. That's a terribly thin-stretched "technically."