Friday, March 30, 2007

Oriental S&M

It started with a referral, a whispered temptation.

It worked on my mind all week on the road. I’d never dabbled in this particular exotic pleasure. “I’ve heard it’s very painful”, I tested. A knowing smile, “just do it.”

A phone number. A call. A session arranged, in a seedy section of a big city. Down a hall, through a private door. Greeted with a simple instruction – “Strip. She’s waiting for you.”

Nervous and excited, I did as told and stepped into her chamber. I had only a moment to take in the contents of the room, and her stern gaze, before she commanded me. “Down, here.” I lowered my gaze, and did not see her face again for the remainder of the hour session.

She was on me before I could adapt to my position. Pain, immediate and intense. Unrelenting. Sharp, focused, pain.

I drew in my breath with a gasp. I willed myself to ignore her, to focus my mind elsewhere. But pain was itself the focus, and my will turned quickly to panic. Could I withstand this for an hour? For even the next minute?

Each instant of piercing pain brought the same thought: “That will leave a mark”. Would the bruises be distinct, or blend?

I heard music in the background and tried to focus on that. To go out of my body, into some space where I could escape. I tried, but could only stay in that space for brief moments.

My eyes were covered, and I never knew what was coming next. Where was she? Without my sight I had to rely on my other senses. Sound, only from her in the stillness of her chamber. Smells. Heat, searing heat. And pain.

I only knew the assault would be continuous, and symmetrical. Once I understood that, I understood that the pain I withstood in one limb would be visited on the other. I only had to wait. And breathe. And focus.

Halfway through the session I understood submission. I understood that pain was hers to inflict, mine to withstand. Yield to it. Flow wth it. Find a space to hide.

She was ahead of me, this one. Each time I adapted she changed. Piercing pain. Beating pain. Forced discomfort positions. My mind raced to anticipate the unknown.

Time. No sense of time. Until time ended.

“You’re done. Go.”

I dressed slowly. My mind reeling. My body vibrating. Shock. Peace.

I paid the lady at the door. A fee, and a generous tip. This exotic pleasure fulfilled.

Okay, I’m exaggerating somewhat. But, as some of you have probably guessed – it was my first Shiatsu massage! Professionally done at an authentic Japanese spa. And yes, it hurt a lot while she was doing it. But, I’m feeling pretty relaxed now. It was worth it.
posted by Semi-Celibate Man @ 1:09 AM | 0 comments


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