A virgin does Thunder, part II

Read part I here.


So I was finally feeling better on Saturday night, but given my unexpected freakout the first night, I didn't really plan on playing. I figured I'd just watch and enjoy the scenery around the dungeon. Nevertheless, that didn't stop me from rocking my vinyl ballgown (and can we talk about how stoked I am that my junior prom dress still fits???), but this time with flip-flops. Hey man, it's Colorado, and I'd spent the entire previous day in heels. I was DONE. D-U-N. There are limits to my masochism. Hehehe.

I went to the dungeon with Em, as usual, and after helping her set up her space and getting her situated in the women's space for a solo scene, I made sure it was OK if I wandered, and did so. The dungeon was more populated than the night before, and there seemed to be fewer couples - more people seemed to be on hunt for new partners. (The older man who liked Em and I later told me he saw me "trolling." I think that word has an awful connotation, so I refuse to acknowledge that's what I was doing. Especially since I wasn't even approaching anyone. But I did get more compliments than I ever have, I think, in such a short time. I took to curtsying when someone told me how hot I looked. Never a bad thing. Anyways... back on track.) There were several interesting scenes going on, and I enjoyed watching them.

After some amount of time, I went back to the women's space to get Em. (Who was on crutches, so I was her official bag-bitch. Which took on a whole new meaning given the theme of the conference.) Her ankle was really starting to bother her, so as we walked out into the general playspace, we found a place for her to set up camp with a few chairs and her ice pack. She spotted a hot transguy she'd been eyeing all night setting up a scene with his partner (who I thought was totally hot, might I add), so we set her up over there. I think I made one more round and then came back to jump in on the conversation she'd struck up with another couple watching the transguy and his partner. Em introduced me to the couple - the woman, A, a lovely switch with fabulous curves and a brilliant smile, and T, her partner, who's smile was more wry and cunning, a slender man in a japanese-looking dress and high-heeled boots that I was totally envious of. (It wasn't really drag, just a gender-bending outfit.) Both T and A are in sexuality education of sorts, and are activists, so the four of us were at no loss for subjects to talk about. I appreciated their intelligence and openness, and actually participated in the conversation more than I had been with others we'd met. Eventually, A and Em began discussing their respective kinks, and Em mentioned that she'd had trouble finding someone to beat her up. A volunteered. After a little more conversation, T not so subtly reminded A, "hey, weren't you going to beat her up?" All of us smiled, and A and Em had a brief discussion about what was and was not OK to use on her. (Some stingy was OK, but thuddy was much preferred.) A had Em straddle the chair she was sitting in, arms wrapped around the back of the chair, back exposed. T and A helped Em remove her corset, and A started flogging Em with a rabbit-fur flogger. I'm sure Em will detail this in better detail than I could, so I'll be sure to link to her post as soon as she writes it. *EDIT* Check out Em's account of the evening here*

A few minutes into Em's beating, T looked at me and asked, "Were you wanting to play tonight, as well?" I smiled nervously and said, "Yeah, I think I could go for that." He put me in a chair in the same fashion of Em, so we were facing each other. As he was helping me get situated (you try straddling a chair in floor-length vinyl!), we had a brief conversation about what I did and didn't like. I told him that I really DIDN'T like stinging sensations, and had an even lower tolerance for them than Em did. He said he understood, and promised to check in with me periodically. A asked T if she should move the box of toys she was pulling floggers from to a spot between the two of them, and T calmly replied "No, I'll just use what I've got here."

Which fucking terrified me. My back was to him, so I couldn't see what he had there with him. I knew the things I didn't mind being hit with were in the box A had next to her and Em. Still, I knew I could stop it at any point, and was intrigued to see what he would do to me. He asked me if I was ready and asked me to take a deep breath. As I did, he placed his hands on my shoulders, and started rubbing. The pressure was akin to a professional massage where they realize you're tense and want to work out some of the pressure. I was tense, and it felt lovely.

Gradually, that pressure got harder, his fingers pressing into the muscles in my back and neck and shoulders. It was starting to hurt a little, but, again, in the same way a massage hurts. Then, seamlessly - I couldn't tell you when it started, exactly - he started hitting my back. With the sides of his hands, and then with his fists. I felt him repeatedly punch that tender muscle right below the shoulderblade, and I focused on breathing in and out as the rest of the world faded away. He'd change his rhythm, and start hitting me harder - hard enough that my chair inched towards Em and my entire body shook with each blow. I kept breathing, still not making a sound, and still only peripherally aware of the people around us. I could hear the sound of his fists hitting my skin, hear him exhaling hard as he put his weight into his punches, and I could hear my breath escaping my body in nearly-controlled patterns. As he worked his way down my back - although it was nowhere near so linear - he got to my ass, which after a few punches, he began using his knees. That was where the first white flash of serious pain shot across my squeezed-shut eyes. Every time his fist or his knee met my ass, when he'd grab my shoulders to pull me into the blows, I would feel my entire body tense, and I swear my heart stopped just momentarily. I was getting deep into what I discovered later is called the sub-space or headspace. Where it's more than just gritting your teeth and bearing it, but moving into an almost trance-like state.

After he'd been beating me for maybe 10 minutes (which is an absolute guess... time had ceased to exist), he ran his hands softly down my body and knelt down beside me, and asked me how I was doing. I opened my eyes and turned my face to meet his. "Fucking fantastic," I managed. He asked me what I liked, and I muttered something about my back especially. "More?" he asked, simply. "YES," I sighed. He smirked and said "Yes, what?" I was confused. He repeated the question. "Yes... sir?" I guessed. He chuckled and said "I was looking for please - you don't have to call me sir. I think that's an earned title. But that'll work." For the first time I felt a little silly and was very aware of the difference in our experience levels. Not because he berated me about it, but because I'm self-conscious about it.

He kissed my cheek and went back to hitting me. I kept my eyes closed tight, my arms and legs wrapped around the chair. After just long enough to get me back to a trance, he whispered in my ear "OK. Turn around." Again I was terrified. Hitting my back was one thing, but hitting my chest? That's very different. Of course, I was in no position to process these thoughts, so as he placed both hands on my shoulders to pick me up, I let him. My eyes were open, but I couldn't for the life of you tell me what was in that room at the time. As I sat back down on the chair, he put my arms at my sides, and I instinctively grabbed the bottom of the seat. I closed my eyes again, brought my head down a little. I felt his hands along my jaw and he brought my head up, asked me to open my eyes. As I did, I found him close enough to kiss, although we didn't. Without saying a word, he told me to keep my eyes on his. I did as I was told. He didn't flinch as his first punch landed directly between my right breast and my collarbone. I didn't flinch, either. Though the force knocked me back. I don't even know if I blinked, because I don't remember him blinking and I was absolutely bonded to him. I could literally not see anything outside his face. It was the only thing that existed and he punched harder and harder.

I broke the stare with one particularly hard punch, where I involuntarily yelled out "oh, fuck!" He smiled. I went back to looking at his blue eyes and focusing on how my body felt. I was someone else. I was not self-conscious about being topless in a room with hundreds of people; I wasn't scared of this person I'd barely met repeatedly punching me. Each hit brought me closer. Closer to him, closer to me, and closer to something... intangible that existed between us. Feeling his hands on me, the energy moving from his body to mine, was easily one of the most intimate experiences I can remember having. Our breathing matched up as I learned to predict the punches. He saw me predicting, and swung like he was going to hit my chest, then took a fist with an outstretched knuckle and hit my thigh. I flinched. And busted out laughing. It hurt terribly, but I couldn't help but laugh. He started laughing with me as he hit my other leg. (I have bruises on both.) We kept laughing right up until he suddenly went back and punched me hard enough in the chest to knock the wind out of me. "Holy shit!" I gasped. He smiled again. He would periodically take breaks from my chest and my legs to hit my arms, almost to the point that I couldn't feel them. I took a few deep breaths to re-center myself and focused again on the blue of his eyes.

With a few more punches on my chest, he moved his right hand (which hurt worse, although he hit well with both) to my sternum, which was exposed as I was sitting topless. He set his fist in the space between my breasts, and pulled back his hand. "One." He brought his hand forward quickly, but stopped it right before he hit me, gently resting his fist on my chest. "Two." He pulled back again, wound up, then stopped just short of my chest. "Three." My body tensed. I didn't move my eyes from his. He pulled his hand back again, and held up five fingers. I nodded. I'm sure my eyes were green, like they are when I'm excited or scared or upset - because I was. He pulled back again, brought his hand to my sternum. "Four." I took a deep breath, looked into his eyes again, and braced myself for what I knew would hurt. He pulled his hand back. Wound up again, even took a step back. "Five." As he swung, he brought his body forward. Dropped his hand, and kissed my forehead. "Thank you," he said, as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

I smiled, and took a deep breath. He kept his arms wrapped around me, and I could feel his heart beating as fast as mine. He kissed my cheek again, and asked me how I was doing. I smiled and muttered something about being fabulous. And how wonderful he was. And how much I enjoyed it. He kept his arms around me, and his body heat felt spectacular. Again, there was more energy transfer. A had finished with Em and had water for both of us, which he grabbed without losing contact with me. He helped me turn around so I could see Em and A, and he continued rubbing my back and my arms. My legs were shaking and so were my hands, like my entire body was electrified. I could feel the blood coursing through my veins and slowly I became aware of the rest of the room.

He stayed in contact with me, constantly checking if I was OK. I was ecstatic. With the endorphins running through my body, I couldn't help but smile. And I couldn't stop smiling. (For something like, oh, 24 hours.) He told me I was huggable, made me feel like he liked using his arms for things other than just hitting me (which is always good to know.) He and I and Em and A were talking about biting, as well, and A mentioned that Em was very biteable. He looked at me and said "She looks biteable, too." I smiled and said, "I am biteable." He asked where I like to be bitten and I pointed to that sweet spot right where my neck meets my shoulder. He asked if he could bite me, I told him he could, and he warned me that his teeth were relatively sharp, and that if he were hurting me, to just tap him. I said OK and he went to town. He started slowly, kissing and just grazing his teeth along my neck. Then pressed his teeth into my skin, not closing his mouth to pinch, but pressing to leave marks. He pressed harder and closed his mouth a little tighter, running his tongue over the space between his teeth. I couldn't help but sigh as goosebumps covered my body. He stayed there for what felt like forever (in the best way possible), and then slowly released his grip, and kissed the spot he'd just been biting. I shivered again with pleasure. And said something stupid like "well, damn." (I still can't put anything on that spot.)

Shortly thereafter, T and A headed back to their hotel room (it was almost 2 am), and Em and I got ready to pack up our things and make our way back to our hotel. I went home still smiling, and still feeling the marks from his hands and knees and teeth. When we saw T again the next morning on our way to a class, he smiled warmly and gave both Em and I hugs and kisses on the cheek. He asked me again how I was doing, and while I wanted to say still sore and every time something hurts it reminds me of you and how much fun I had, I simply said "Oh, I'm doing wonderful. And you?" It was cool and calm. Or something. We said we'd all see each other later and even though we knew we probably wouldn't, it was a nice gesture.

I still can't raise my hands above my head because my chest and arms are too sore, and there are bruises all down my back - broken blood vessels, but not the wide, sprawling purple bruises you usually see. Even a seatbelt brushing my breasts makes them hurt, and sends a dull and persistent pain through my entire torso. And every time I feel that I smile and have a moment to flashback and remember how wonderful the entire experience was.