I’ve spent a lot of time in the spanking community but I’ve always felt part of the larger BDSM world — at least in the nature of what I was doing. It was sexual, and I liked to try a lot of things. Oh, there was a lot I didn’t know, before I came out in the scene, but I knew what turned me on, and I knew I was submissive — at least sexually. I experimented a lot with various boyfriends. Some I converted into spankos. Others whom I also “converted” were probably dominant to begin with and it came naturally to them. But I never considered any of them “my Dom.”
This was pre-internet — for me, at least (I didn’t have a cell phone, either, they were still pretty rare back then) — and when I started to look for play partners I looked in a certain section of the classified ads in the local alternative newspaper.
Does anyone recall this system of meeting people? Someone signed up for the service and created a voice mail message. If you were hoping to meet someone, you would call up and listen to his/her message. Then you would decide whether you were interested, and would leave a response. There was a charge for listening to the messages, so my phone bill would add up quickly. I remember holding a sheet of paper in my hand with the code numbers of all the guys whose ads sounded interesting … interesting until I’d hear their voices or what they said in their messages and I’d quickly move on. Mostly it was that they didn’t sound confident, or dominant, and some simply sounded way too sleezy. The big sheet of numbers was quickly reduced to three or four, and I’d listen to those three or four messages several times before finally getting the nerve up to call.
I met a few tops this way. Safe calls? I knew nothing about safe calls back then, and besides, who was I going to tell about what I was doing and where I was going? There was no way I’d tell any of my girlfriends. And munches? If they existed back then, I wouldn’t have done that, either. Too much of a chance of seeing someone I knew … and too much of a chance of meeting a bunch of freaks.
No, it was going to be private, and one on one. I trusted my own judgment. I had long phone conversations with the guys before I met them and then I took the plunge and met them. Even if I wasn’t having sex, I was meeting people for sexual play and I was a little slut. I often felt guilty, but my need for “it” overrode my guilt.
Two of the guys I met turned out to be fairly good matches as play partners, but both were involved in relationships so things never got beyond play. One was into discipline role play and I played the bad daughter for him a number of times. He spanked harder than anyone had spanked me up to that point.
The other was more of a Dominant, and we explored all kinds of play. Pain was a huge part of what we did, but he also did humiliation play and bondage and different types of “training” (such as putting me in really high heels and making me walk around his condo). I saw him every few weeks, and my submission to him lasted a finite period of time — beginning with his putting a collar on me at the start of the scene to the beginning of our “cool-down” period, when he’d take the collar off.
I still remember the butterflies in my stomach as I’d drive up I95 toward his house. In rush hour traffic after work, I would always be nervous about being late, even though I’d done everything in my power to get there on time. He would leave the door of his condo unlocked when he knew I was coming. I wouldn’t see him when I first entered (it was part of his “game”), and I would quickly get naked, freshen up in the bathroom, then kneel on his bedroom floor with my head down on my folded arms. Sometimes there would be some item left on the bed for me to put on, such as a blindfold.
When he finally entered the room, he would buckle the collar around my neck and then I was his to do whatever he wanted with. God, it was always a whirlwind. I remember him yanking me up and over the edge of the bed and then whipping me with a riding crop — with the shaft as well as the slapper. He used a nasty quirt. He used paddles.
We’d experiment with bondage. He had a winding staircase in his living room that led up to a loft area. He tied me under this a lot, my hands over my head, and he would beat me or whip me there. I was frequently in extreme pain and he scared me, but I trusted him. Once I hadn’t eaten dinner. I was bound under the stairs and I suddenly got really hot and lightheaded. I’m not a fainter, but this was the closest I’ve ever come to thinking I was going to pass out. He cut me loose immediately, made me sit down and drink something; gave me a snack.
The humiliation — he had this thing about making me lick his feet, which disgusted me. I absolutely abhorred it, but I did it because I loved everything else he did to me. Then there was the time he made me kneel up and bark like a dog. I had the hardest time with that. But I was not a dog, and it was just a game. I loved the game.
He always treated me like I was special, not lesser than him just because I liked receiving pain and being controlled. At the end of our scene we would always lie around and talk for hours. We were equals then.
When I entered the public scene it was because I was looking for a partner. He wasn’t available romantically and I was starting to meet people who were, so I saw him less and less. He was always supportive and not jealous of my new adventures. It really meant a lot to me. (Honestly, I think he was happy I was seeing other people. I wasn’t jealous of his partner — he had another sub at the time who wanted more out of the relationship and who was causing him trouble because of this. That wasn’t an issue with me.)
I have lost touch with this Dom. I did some searches over the years but I haven’t had any luck finding him. He was a big part of my life and a precursor to my future explorations in the scene. I hope I expressed to him how much he meant to me during the time that I knew him.
It’s my birthday today, but last night I was invited to a small party to celebrate the 50th birthday of another NY spanko friend. As these evenings go, there were about two hours of talking and eating before any action took place. But eventually people started pairing off and heading down to the basement “dungeon,” where there was a whole array of toys and several pieces of equipment to use.
Sandy's Room 