You Did What in Public?

I try to make it a point to go to the different fetish parties around town each month. So I went again. And it may classify as one of the best ones yet, at least for my personal experience.

First you have to know, vainly, how absolutely stellar I looked. I had picked up a fetish corset piece. It isn't a real corset and just something for fun and a vinyl mini-skirt. I honestly felt drop dead gorgeous.

The high that I felt from feeling that beautiful was only bolstered by the rest of the evening. I approached a friend at the party; she is a wonderful woman. I asked her if she would be willing to do a scene with me at this party and she agreed. I was ecstatic.

An hour later, I found myself on a stage, in nothing but my lace panties, being cuffed to a huge wooden suspension rig in front of a bar full of people. Cue one of the most amazing experiences of my life. From there came the blindfold, the breast torture, and the public lashings. If I had had any doubts before I left that house that day about who I was really becoming, it all floated beautifully away with each hit as I became soundly and profoundly a version of myself that I loved.

And as the orgasms came (pun intended, you see), I was held up by the cuffs, caught by warm hands, and tenderly cared for as my head was somewhere off in the subspace and my body was just a pile of pretty squishy mush. And as I flittered around in the arms of my friends and caregivers, I heard the most wonderful compliments about how great it was to watch or that I was a beautiful bottom and so on. The high from that experience was unprecedented, unimaginable, and totally blissful.

If I am honest with myself, when I left the house that night wearing that outfit, I thought to myself the me from 5 years ago would not recognize the me from today. But I love the person I am becoming. The person who is okay with her sexuality. The girl who is okay helping others with their sexuality. The woman who feels empowered by her own strength.

Deadly Sins

I don't know if ti was the years of barely orgasms, the beaten confidence, or the constant thoughts that if I pleased him it would make him want me, but time has turned me into a flawed lover.

This isn't about the skeletons in my closet because they're no fun. This is about my overwhelming desire and craving for pleasure to belong to me. A deep, intimate acknowledgement of my greed and selfishness as a lover.

None of us are perfect. Sorry to break that news to you.

But part of owning yourself, being confident, and loving your own sexuality is acknowledging that small truth.

Strive to be awesome, not perfect.

I've grown fond of the idea that my first time with  a partner needs to be about me. If you want me to be with you 100% I need to gauge you in my own way. How do you respect a simple request? How do you feel about a woman who knows what she wants? Are you just in this for the quickest lay? These are all hints and ideas that I pick up from having my partners please me for the first time.

It also serves to make me very comfortable with a partner once they've seen, tasted, and prodded my body and they want to come back. In that weird, symbiotic way, it makes me a better lover, too.

But that is not the only way I'm selfish (or flawed). You see, I'm also severely undisciplined. In the throws of pleasure and ecstasy, I am very erratic. I get over eager sometimes. Sometimes I get scared. Sometimes I am in real pain. Sometimes I can't stand or see straight.

That is when my partner gets the short end of the stick. And I am sorry for it. You did well but please help me. This is the moment where trust is built. Where the vulnerable reaches out and you lay the foundation for this thing between us. I don't want to keep taking from you but I will keep asking. Because after 20 years, I finally give a damn about myself.

Image Credit: Dahlig