This post is written by my lovely friend Euclidean Point (no, that isn’t her real name) after a wonderful session in a rental dungeon.
It was interesting to take away her agency before the session rather than wait until it started. She’s not used to this. As always, the non consent element of this is illusory and she had plenty of chance to request something different.
She was invited to a trial day at the Institute of Sensation therapy where she would get to sample the treatments available there including “regression therapy, pain management, sensory overload and orgasm therapy” to name but a few. It was all a lot of fun and felt properly kinky
Here are her thoughts about losing her agency, the session itself and a very hot little slice of spontaneous kink we indulged in after a late lunch at a nearby restaurant
“Maybe I’ll just tell you where to be and do something completely different…”
When I first read that message from him, I thought it was a joke. If you know me, you’ll know that I love to plan. I *live* to plan. Where we will meet, what we will wear, what we will do, what we will say, boundaries, preferences, limits. It helps me to feel safe, and to revel in the anticipation of what we have agreed is to come. So to speak.
And yet, like many suggestions that I didn’t expect, the idea seeped into the darkest corners of my brain. Fear is such an integral part of my kink sexuality, and there’s something at least disconcerting about arranging a mystery session with someone who knows how to push my buttons.
So that’s how I found myself in a dungeon experiencing something that I never would have thought to ask for, but that was hot, and challenging, and cathartic in the way that only kink can be. To keep me focussed, he’d promised a belting at the end, but we got carried away and left the dungeon for dinner at a nearby restaurant, with the belt still safely in his bag.
I think it was sometime during dessert when the subject of the belt came up. We laughed it off and he reminded me that we still had access to the dungeon. As he quietly set his coiled belt on the edge of our dinner table, he told me that it was entirely up to me to decide whether we did this.
Another joke… or was it?
Another idea slithering into my brain and settling in a dark corner.
Something not on the plan, something I hadn’t prepared for. Something scary.
Sometimes you just have to let go.
I love how blatant it was. I quite deliberately placed my coiled belt on the table in the middle of a busy restaurant. The waitress came past while it was there. Pointy looked at it in shock that I would bring our dark secret about where we had been and what we had been doing out into the open like that.
Letting ourselves back into the dungeon for dessert felt so gratuitously kinky.
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The kind of perverse feelings which are so natural for us. And so exciting anyway.