One of my first forays into BDSM was courtesy of a more experienced sub from my hometown. I had developed an interest following a divorce and had begun to peruse sites like alt.com. I was very surprised to find that there was someone else from my small rural home base that was active, especially as I did and do live in a city some hours away, and so would never have thought of looking in the town where I grew up.
I was younger then, and had an attraction for older women, so, the fact that she was a lithe and lively ten years my senior was an additional plus.
We chatted for a couple of weeks then made a "play date," over the phone. My thought was to get a room, but she said, "Just come to my house, I'm all set up... Sir."
At that point I had no gear, little experience, zero credibility as a Dom and was terrified that my parents would happen to drive by, see my car and wonder why I was there and not at their house.
But I agreed that would be acceptible.
"Any instructions, Sir?" She asked. I immediately felt an electric thrill move through my chakras every time she addressed me in that way. Didn't want to disappoint, so immediately made something up.
"You'll be barely dressed but not bare," I intoned, sounding pretentious as hell, I am sure.
"When I arrive, you'll open the door, eyes downcast and without speaking. You'll usher me to your most comfortable chair, next to which you will have placed a new bottle of red wine - chianti preferred, but anything will do, opened, allowed to breathe, with a clean glass beside it.
You'll then kneel before me in a presentation posture and wait."
"Oh, my God, yes, Sir," and I could hear an excited tremble in her voice. Apparently I'd hit on something.
That has been my ritual for first meetings to this day.
Because all went according to my spontaneous "plan" that day, she greeted me "dressed" in a black vinyl number modelled, I'm sure, on "Slave Leia," concealing very little, a lascivious little smile, "do me" eyes, plump in all the right places, barefoot with a pedicure that left nothing to the imagination but incited it at the same time.
My confidence flagged a little but I don't think it showed, nor would she have cared. Plus, I recognized her. We'd been to many of the same hometown functions although we were not acquainted.
She showed me in, sat me down, assumed the agreed upon position. I said nothing, sipped my wine. Perfect.
Don't buy expensive wine. If you pay more than 12-16 dollars a bottle, you're being cheated. There is a particular chianti I favor that is the house wine at my favorite bistro, but it's hard to find retail, even though it's only about ten dollars a bottle.
She found it.
Then I put her through an inspection routine I cribbed from the internet, not knowing what I was really doing or why, but examining her body the way one would examine a new car was a thrill for both of us.
Then I had her sit at my feet, relax and we talked. I asked her about her experience, likes, dislikes, limits, hard limits, did she have a safe call, what were her expectations for our first session. I needn't have. She was ready and willing, up for anything.
I wasn't sure I was.
Then I told her frankly I had not brought anything with me, not even so much as a length of rope.
'That's ok, Sir," she said. 'I have all the gear we need down in my playroom, if you're ready."
Provocative word, "playroom."
We rose and proceeded downstairs.
[More to come]