November 11, 2010

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DaddyO's BDSM

by DaddyO

 

I arrived, as I often do, at Club Sesso on a slow Wednesday night. It had been almost an entire month since the last Twisted Party, and two weeks since the big Halloween bash. The first nip of cold was in the air, and my wife was on a business trip. Midweek, Sesso is only $10 (unless it is a special event such as a gang bang) and the free buffet more than makes up for my price of admission.

 

There were a lot of the regulars there. Unfortunately, they were the regular men, so even though their friendly company was welcomed, it more than limited the odds of me finding a willing play partner.

 

I seldom fuck at this place anyway, opting more often to share a BDSM experience (usually flogging or OTK spanking) with a lady looking for a little something different. In the past few weeks I have met several anxious couples more than willing to share their female half with me to help quell their kink curiosity.

 

At last month's Twisted Party, for instance, I was able to release two feminine faucets; one on the spanking bench and another on the St. Andrew's Cross.


Providing a woman this experience and hearing the words "I've never done that before" emerge from her pouting lips afterwards, more than propels me into deep Domspace. Maybe it is just my ego being fed that is tantamount to a Thanksgiving dinner, and not Domspace, but in any case, I was stoked as hell!


Not more that thirty minutes after the puddle of lady juice was towel-soaked up, I was scening and g-manipulating another lady whose boyfriend watched with equal enjoyment. He was fine gentleman with not an ounce of jealousy who keenly let me take control of his girlfriend. It worked out amazingly for all involved!

 

But that was several parties ago. I was a bit down this Wednesday, for the prior week I had finished a very creative scene and photo shoot involving body writing, poetry and bare bottom spanking. I spent most of the day shooting, scening and body writing and toiled into the wee hours of the morning editing, organizing and uploading the pictures, only to be woken up before noon to the model's partner, seemingly without reason, telling me she decided she didn't want any of them posted.

 

Several plans I had hoped to accomplish on this four day vacation were not coming together either. My wife away, my babygirl suffering from a tough cold, my masochist having another of her doubting fits of disobedience and a vanilla I had been courting for kink play had stood me up on a date the Saturday prior.

 

All was not happy in DaddyO's world.

 

The night dragged on. I devoured a warm 11 o'clock chocolate chip cookie and headed upstairs to where the more serious sexual action usually occurs.

 

Nada.

 

From the balcony I finally spied a woman whom I didn't recognize. She was standing at the far end of the bar and exuded a bevy of confidence. I made my way down the stairs and nonchalantly gathered in the middle of the dance floor with some of my buddies, who also happen to be colleagues in the swinger game. I was doubtful she would give any of us her attentions, but certainly not the chubby bald Daddy Dom who was 24 hours from needing an anxiety pill.

 

Many women mistake the absence of shyness in my swagger for confidence. In reality I am just as insecure as the next guy (many would argue more so).

 

How would she respond?

 

I straightened my collar and made my advance.

 

I was immediately greeted by her brand of swaggering confidence. Usually women who exhibit this sort of attitude scare the living shit out of me. Until tonight, I had never encountered it without the accompanying eye roll, lackadaisical shoulder shrug, or "I already have a drink, thank you" dismissal.

 

Yes, this time it was different. We volleyed barbs back and forth a few times, eventually learning that we both had some similar fantasies. She told me a man would have to take her; that she was used to being the dominant one.

 

"No man has the balls enough to handle me," she bragged.

 

I had a trick up my pant sleeve: my undersized penis often makes my balls appear much bigger than they really are!

 

I told her I loved it when a woman fought back.

 

I described an encounter I had over a year ago at a different swingers club where I was passing by a private room and a woman simply glanced my way and told me "I need to be fucked." I approached her and warned her I was "dominant" and liked to be rough. She replied back, "well you are gonna have to be dominant to take me, because I like it rough too." It was the most primal animalistic sex I had had at that point. It also was the most anonymous ...and due to her long fingernails, the most painful!

 

"You should come to tomorrow's Twisted Party", I suggested.

 

"What is that?"

 

I told her it was unlike any other night at Club Sesso. A completely different crowd; a completely different mood and I would have my toy bag with me.

 

Her ears perked up. She seemed genuinely interested. I had to explain "scening" to her, as I think her BDSM experience was limited to going a little overboard in the vanilla swinger realm. I also had to explain floggers and canes and paddles and any other interesting implements of pleasure and pain that my toy bag might contain.

 

"You will have to take me to have me," she said. This was the consent I was looking for.

 

We wandered upstairs. My buddies were right behind me. Near the orgy bed we continued our conversation. My bravado was at fever pitch.

 

"Turn around. Let me see your ass."

 

Without hesitation she strutted forward.

 

"Ah, it's alright," she said, as my jaw dropped, witnessing one of the tightest little shapely asses I had ever seen in this environment.

 

Then without any additional prompting, she began shimmying out of her skintight jeans. Her pants were now bunched up near her knees. She wore no panties, or if she did, they were cohabiting with her jeans near her ankles.

 

She turned her body towards us and began hiking her tee shirt up to reveal a centerfold body with a tattoo along her side.


She didn't stop there; after her shirt was above her breasts, she popped her left breast out of her brassiere and showed me her pert and perfectly shaped and proportioned tit.

 

We talked about how our scene would go. I guess it was technically our negotiation, but instead of warning each other of what our limits might be, we deliberated further into what we might want to experience that neither of us had done.

 

"I want you to earn control of me." Her provocation was intensified, "And I am going to be mean."

 

"Do whatever you need to do," I told her.

 

I relayed a fantasy of mine in which the lady I was scening with spit on me to make me more aggressive.

 

Instead of the "aw, that's gross," response 99% of the Wednesday Sesso girls would give, she replied with "that's so fucking hot!"

 

“Oh, and bring a shirt you really don’t need.”

 

I knew if this wasn't a dream that November's Twisted Party was going to be the best ever!

 

Accustomed to being stood up as of late, I didn't get my hopes up. The next morning I spent with one of my friendly colleagues (he had spent the night) then did a photo shoot with a lovely lady in the afternoon.

 

The evening was the Thursday Vino Vixens munch. There were a lot of lovely friends there and I did my best to recruit them to the Twisted Party if they were not already planning to go.

 

Around 8:15 I said goodbye to my munch cohorts and moseyed downtown. I was fortunate enough to find a parking spot right in front, which was nice since I had my makeshift toy bag with me (a converted golf bag).

 

Immediately upon entry I was mobbed by the sexy g-spot squirter, who reminds me of the actress Anna Farris. We cuddled and kissed a bit (her sitting on my lap) and I promised her a scene later. Friends were everywhere and it seemed whenever I turned, I was saying "hi" to someone I knew or had met in the kink scene.

 

I do not know what happened next; things were a bit of a blur. Things were happening so fast it was as if I was on some sort of drug trip. Two of the hottest girls in the club actually approached me and asked for spankings!

 

They were short scenes with minimal negotiations - more like tastings -  but I am pretty sure I was making most every Dom in the place quite envious. Hell, I was envious of myself!

 

After the spanking scenes, amidst the other chaos, I remember a tug on my arm from one of the guys from last night. I was having so much fun, and was so not expecting things to really come to fruition, that it took me very unexpectedly.

 

"She's here!"

 

"Where?"

 

"By the lockers."

 

I don’t know when I ever walked so fast. There she was, squatting to put her belongings into a bottom locker. I crept up behind her and like a momma kitty grabbed a huge hunk of the hair right above her neck. She turned and smiled.

 

As is par for the course with most people, she wanted to have a drink before things transpired, but she drank it with an urgency I was unaccustomed to. I had my buddy fetch the drink (which surprisingly he did without any hesitation). She drank her beverage facing me while we chatted, sitting on my lap and grinding to her hips’ content.

 

Earlier, I had alerted the dungeon monitor I was waiting for the St. Andrew’s Cross, and as if the stars aligned, as soon as we walked back downstairs, it opened for us.

 

I strung her up on the cross and she complied without much protest. I am not sure if she expected to begin her struggle immediately. After her wrists were attached, I began a gentle warm-up flogging. It was her first taste of a flogger.

 

As the intensity grew, she got a bit more flustered. I took her by the hair and provoked her more and more. My buddy was holding my toy bag and handed me instruments as quickly as I’d ask him!

 

Even though I was in control, certain things this exciting run together in your mind when you try to recount them.

 

I remember tearing that shirt from her body in a crescendo of passion, exposing her perfect breasts.

 

I remember using her torn shirt as bondage rope, by stringing it around the cross.

 

I recall spinning her around, slapping her ass hard while raising her up off the ground.

 

I remember applying plastic clothespins to those perfect nipples and one on her tight pussy lips.

 

I remember threatening to remove the clothespins with the bashing of my crop.

 

I remember a crowd gathering and humming a kinky version of the Joe Jackson song “Is she really gonna scene with him?”  I wasn't going out with her and I don't think the crowd was really humming it, but it sure seemed like it!

 

She wanted more...

 

Regardless of my tactics, her “give it to me baby” provocation continued. So I gave it to her! Grabbing her hair again, almost smothering her, I planted a Jackie Gleason, “baby, you’re the greatest” French kiss onto her lips.

 

Then it happened.

 

Splat! her saliva landed in my right eye.

 

I was tempted to utter “One of these days, Alice. Pow! Right in the kisser!” but the Honeymooner references hadn’t entered my head until I just now sat down to write this.

 

Instead of a whack to her mouth, I just turned her around again and had her face the crowd, with me whispering in her ear (and wiping my saliva soaked eyebrow on her hair).

 

“I want you to look out into the crowd and pick the person you want to come remove the clothespin from your pussy.”

 

“How about the shy blonde girl over there?”

 

I walked out into the crowd and pointed at her, motioning for the shy blonde to come help out. She removed the clothespin from her pussy then I made her re-apply it, this time to her nipple.

 

Much more happened, I am sure.  I realize I am suffering severe delusions of grandeur at the moment, but a chick like this can do it to ya! Without a doubt it was the best public scene I have ever had.

 

Aftercare was in a room upstairs, but she still wanted to play the struggle card, so I enlisted my buddy to help with restraining her. I took charge in the room, and, well, let’s just say, “what happens in the room, stays in the room.”

 

"Aftercare" lasted up until the closing hours and preempted other scenes I had scheduled. I offer my apologies for anyone I had promised a scene with; I guess I got a little carried away!

 

The only solace I can give you is “you’re next.”

Author's Notes/Comments: 

2010 

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