A Different Type of Session

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The only time I’ve ever known, even on only the most general level, as to what a session will include is the time she was breaking a hard limit and introducing me to needle play [see Breaking Limits, Pushing Boundaries].

I enter the dungeon knowing I will be surprised.

I suppose there are a couple of reasons I prefer the surprise.  Firstly, my domme is a professional, I prefer to do her the courtesy of letting her work unrestricted.  The second is that I do only see one domme.  After all this time she knows far better than I do what I need, what I can cope with and what limits can be explored.  Oh, and I really love the pleasure and pride she has when her plans come together.

All I am armed with when I enter the dungeon is the mental preparedness to be used hard.  To know that for the time I am there she has carte blanche for anything that she has planned for her own professional satisfaction in providing a mind blowing experience.

Mind blowing experiences come in many forms, it’s not always about pain.

The circumstances for this session required more mental preparation than usual.  It was several months since the bruising from some deep welts had travelled inwards and infected the bone of the coccyx.  I hadn’t been caned since, except for the odd tap as a reminder that I couldn’t hide from it forever.  There was still some residual discomfort but I’d given her the basic all clear to do whatever she wanted.  It was also not long after recovering from the winter flu bug and I was quite run down in a number of ways.

Straight away I was strapped to the bench, ankles and cuffs.  It’s not uncomfortable on that bench, but I’ve yet to find any bench approaching the gorgeousness of the one my ex-mistress owned – soft straps around the ankles, calves, thighs, waist, chest and wrists.  Bound tightly on that long ago bench was heaven, pressed hard in to the luxuriously soft leather barely able to move a muscle.

She’s never caned me from cold, so it was no surprise to feel her beginning with different sensations.  Light applications from hurty things can be totally glorious in their gentle sensations, even the dragon tail felt nice for the first time ever.  The soft flogger is a personal favourite, the lightest whisper through the air and barely a touch on the skin through to the harder thud that takes your breath away but you can say that it almost never actually hurts.  The pinwheels that one moment feel like a tickle and then with a little pressure on a sensitive spot feel like hot wires.

And never forget her hands.  I’ve oft marvelled at the power she can put through those small and delicate appendages.  Many a warm up has included spanking, ramping up the power until the whole bottom is a vivid red and the room echoing to the loud slaps.  Just as you think her hands must be made of leather her fingers can ever so delicately trace out the most exquisitely refined patterns as she follows welts of sore spots.  Like the tickle of a feather in a Chinese torture.

I’ve been here before, knowing that I need to be prepared for when she will switch to painful intensity.  I always find this a wonderful time, I can clear my mind of everything else and relax in to the moment, a pre-cursor of the sub-space that I’m likely to enter later.

I’m now aware of the background music and how she moves in and out of time with the beat.  I start to giggle at that recognition.  Still the implements land oh so softly, with the occasional slightly harder tap to add just a small sting.  She’s making my skin so very sensitive, layering sensitivity on top of sensitivity and she’s yet to say a word, just the occasional whispered giggle as I flinch or twitch from the lightest applications of her fingertips and nails.

Moments in time as she breaks off to massage my stocking clad calves, easing any remaining tension and turning them to jelly.

The exquisite pressure as she drapes herself across my back and massages up the spine and around the shoulders, everything melting to putty, including my mind.

I know I’m drifting in and out as it feels similar to when being under her hypnosis.  The faster taps of the implements bring me back for a while, even the variance in application power is so gentle, no great sting to really bring me back.  Then she merges with the beat of the music again and I drift down and down once more.

At some point, as the cycle repeats, massage, playful finger-tips, varied but light application of many implements, spanking, it begins to dawn that there may not be hard application of pain to come.  Not something to take for granted and although it would be in keeping with her playful nature to apply a flourish she’d also really enjoy just keeping me wondering.

The back massage accompanied by the soft flogger starts me purring like a cat.  Where it came from, I don’t know, totally involuntary.  A soft rumble when she’s sensitising my bottom up to a deep growl when her fingers dig deep as she runs them up my back

Mind and body turned to mush as a result of sensuous overload I’ve no real idea where I am until I feel her undoing the wrist and ankle restraints.  Am I to be moved to somewhere else for a painful conclusion ?

She says her first words since she started, “You can get up now”.  Two hours had gone by in the blink of an eye !!!!  May be one minute, may be five minutes before I come far enough back to reality to move and she’s laughing at my confusion and astonishment at the elapsed time.

I seemed to remember every moment and yet time had been compressed and I must have gone deeper and deeper in to that familiar hypnotic state.

It was a supreme gift she gave me that day, it sparked the beginning of physical recovery and above all the mending of my soul.  She knew exactly what I needed and fed my soul with supreme care and affection.  A most wonderful and glorious surprise of intense sensuous intimacy.

She’s taken me apart in many different ways.  I’ll forever treasure the day she put me back together.