On our first solo date, Pain took me dancing.
A quiet airy space filled with sunshine and a spring breeze, far away from any spotlight or New York City crowds.
Just us.
To dance.
Converse.
Whisper and shout.
To get to know one another.
And share secrets only Pain can tease from a willing body.
From His first touch to His last, He left me breathless.
In the beginning moments, I thought too much. Not about what might be. I was confident in our negotiations and our talented facilitator.
Silly thoughts...
About what I might be expected to say.
About my semi-conservative appearance.
About my steps.
Would I know the steps?
Too objective thinking thoughts...
His approach to warm up...
The technique of the throw...
Placement of...
Then I gave in.
Pain left me no choice.
To the music.
To Pain's kaleidoscope of demands and nuances.
I lost track of the tools that tasted my near virgin flesh and bones as I swayed my hips to the music and His intriguing sensations for nearly two hours.
The single bite of razor teeth.
The warm rhythm of an R&B ballad.
The hot dragontail licks.
Groans and clenched fists.
The electric beat of classic Prince.
The cruel slaps of rubber.
Yelps and jazz hands.
Handel's glorious oratorio, The Messiah.
Whips' sweet bites that fluttered like fiery butterfly kisses across my skin.
Sighs and submission to the moment.
A hip-hop track's deep pulsing bass.
A knife's precise edge.
Soft growls and a lioness' slumbering stretch.
Epic instrumentals.
The punishment of a flogger's brutal punch.
Moans that crawled from deep.
More Prince.
The heavy thud of a leather thumper exploding against a now tender ass.
Yells and legs flailing.
The percussive chaos of a dance track.
The wicked slashes of dual rubber lances.
Whimpers and desperate hands seeking any steadying hold.
A last set of strikes.
Of an unknown tool.
The music forgotten.
The unanticipated sob that escaped.
The sudden begging...
A primal pleading...
The tears I choked and swallowed.
I found myself in unknown, unexpected territory.
A towel thrown.
A safeword called.
As I backed away from that line I wasn't yet prepared to cross.
And faced the shocking inexplicable need...
To cry.
Our beautiful first dance that day was done. I stepped out of Pain's exciting embrace to catch my breath and smile, as the delight of our dance flooded into me with His compassionate departure. I am and always will be ever grateful for His gracious introduction and instruction.
I do so hope we meet and dance again someday, my Friend.
~DominaKat
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