this one time in an unidentified prudish country…

I’m generally not the type to seek out a kinky relationship.  As in, I need a domme or a rigger or an impact dom.  Is that you?  Great, let’s meet and see if we’re compatible, kink wise.  Now let’s figure out when we can find time to play together on a more or less regular basis.

If that is you, I am not judging, but it’s not my experience.  I prefer the “vanilla” relationship to build first, the friendship and the connection to happen initially, and if I see you as someone who fills a necessary kinky role within my life, I’ll try to deepen the relationship and make it last.

This story is a time when I did just seek out a kinky experience, but it is unusual for me, so it’s not crazy or anything.

Sometimes kink is described as a flavor of a relationship.  Or something on the side.  The icing on the cake.

As I grew in comfort, kink became less of the icing and more the flavor of the cake.  I needed the cake to be substantive, but without kink, it was just a plain cake.  Not a chocolate cake or a lemon cake.  Would you want a cake that is just…cake flavored?  Just eggs, butter, flour, sugar– that’s basically a pancake.  Tasty, but falls flat.  Okay, that was a bad joke.

Until, one summer day…

My first experience where kink was the sole focus of the relationship happened around twenty-four.  There wasn’t  a relationship.  Just one night of play only.   I don’t remember their name, though he was male. Older, I think. I probably shouldn’t have taken this risk, and I wouldn’t encourage anyone else to do the same, but this WAS one of my first times pursuing kink.  May as well be honest about my stupidity.

I met him online. Most likely OKCupid. All I knew about him was his his face and….something that made me believe he would want this, too.  I forget what.  He came over, I opened the door to my apartment. One large room, with a bathroom off one side, and a kitchen area off the other side.

He asked me to strip naked with my arms held in front of me. He blindfolded me with a silk tie. I can’t remember how long I stood there, but eventually, he moved me onto my back. He tied a harsh rope around my arms and legs to restrain me.  I felt an ice cube run up my body. Next, he told me he had some wax, that he wanted to pour on me. I remember liking it, can’t remember whether itw as very hot. “This won’t hurt you,” he said, “It just simulates pain.” He then proceeded to run up a Wartenberg Pinwheel, tracing my breasts, down my stomach. He took a feather duster(?) and tickled me lightly all over. I love giggling during an experience. I may be neglecting a few sensations, but this is what I can remember of it, from about ten years ago.  Afterward, he untied me and he made sure I was okay, and he left.  Never even took his own clothes off.

I don’t think I saw him again.  I still remember how it felt.

I wonder if he remembers, too.

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