I never did speak about the dominant, “Shadow”, that I meet on the 1st and 2nd of April. The one that I made myself sick for; yes, the patch episode. I came across him on alt, or more truthfully, he came across me. He only wrote to say that I had a good profile; he did not expect me to respond. Of course, I did, and we started talking. We had a lot in common; enough to have made a relationship work and we had enough differences to be perfect. Our views on a slave being no more than a pet, an animal, a piece of property, were horribly similar.
We sent each other rambles (long messages) for a few weeks before he turned and said that he wanted to meet me, there is only so much you can learn from a person online. He lived interstate, I half expected him to say that I was to be the one be to go and meet him but he threw a curve ball and said that he would fly down here. I’d much rather be the one going out of my way to meet someone, it makes things so much easier if I don’t like them. I’ve never had someone go out of their way to meet me, I found it rather sweet to be honest.
Anyway, he arranged to fly down on the Tuesday and fly home on the Wednesday evening. In all honesty, I did not want to meet him, I was (and am) still getting over my last Master, and things were going way too fast for my liking. Even in my profile on alt I had said that I was only seeking friends. However, it does not matter what I, a *slave*, wants. In addition, I needed punishment for something that I had said earlier that he had found terribly offensive; so, like it or not, I was going to meet him.
I had bike problems the Tuesday morning when I went to do a little shopping. I had promised him I would not smoke that day but it did not quite work out as planned. I met him in the city in the afternoon. I called from a pay phone to tell him I was there, after walking around the city once and wasting nearly half an hour. I was pretty peeved by the time I got to the city. I desperately need a smoke and I did not want to be there.
Guess I should take more notice of people’s photographs when they send them to me; a man walked past and then came back. It was he. I started shaking, sweating, a real mess I’m sure; I was rather defensive each time he spoke to me. We had both spoken online that we were good judges of character, knowing within seconds of meeting someone whether we will like each other and where the meeting could lead. The minute I saw him, I knew he was a Master, but I knew he could not be my Master. I knew there was nothing more in store than maybe friendship. We walked and chatted for a while, he offered coffee, something to eat but I don’t do public places very well. I thanked him but said only if he wanted something. He could tell I was uncomfortable being there in town, so we end up in front of his hotel.
It is obvious what he wanted, obvious as to why we are in front of his hotel. I kept whinging that I wanted a smoke, that I wanted to go home, begged him in the end but he wouldn’t let me. Well, that’s not quite true; I could have, at any stage, just up and walked away but I stayed. We must have sat on a seat a block down for an hour; I was acting like a two year old. ~laughs~ He was determined, I’ll give him that. He made a comment about the dog choker chain around my neck, I half expected that he would do as he said, and drag me up to his room. Finally, he said that if I come up to look at his drawings for 10 minutes, I could leave as soon as those 10 minutes were up. I thought this over and agreed. In his room, he even set the alarm on his phone for ten minutes. His drawings were quite good, a collection of cartoons he had drawn over the years. I think he should draw more, but then, he said the same of me. :) I stayed about fifteen, twenty minutes before I left; he even walked me to the station and went with me into the Coles supermarket to get cat food.
I called him when I arrived home, apologised for my behaviour, promised that I would be there in the morning. It was a long, long night. Poor ol’ Zac threw up all over the place as soon as I had nodded off to sleep, I spent the next hour or so looking after him to make sure that he was ok. By about 3am I dropped off to sleep, I had set the alarm for 6am; that would give me time to have the world’s quickest shave, wash my hair and try and get rid of the smell of cigarette from my hair and body. Because my sleeping pattern was completely disrupted from the previous weeks events, I slept right through the alarm, waking up at the time I was supposed to meet Shadow. Again, I called, apologised, and said I would be there as soon as I could. I then proceeded to race around like a headless chicken getting ready. I walked to the train station, last time I took the bike the darn thing died on me. I had just missed the train so I went to the chemist to buy some nicotine patches. Yes, yes, nasty horrid patches.
By the time I reached the city, I could hear nothing other than my heart in my ears and I’m sure I was trembling visibly. I did not want to do this, but he had come all this way to meet me that I figured that I would give him what he came for, what he expected. I met him in front of the hotel and up we went. I’d resigned myself to what was gong to happen, no point in stressing over it. See, this is why it is easier to go to a dominant. If there is no M/s connection after an initial meeting, you don’t need to go through this. Someone is lucky to get me alone in a room after the forth meeting, let alone what was to about to happen.
Mindless banter in the elevator up to Shadow’s room, I sat on the floor in front of him and he sat on the bed. More mindless banter; I let him read the journal entry I wrote that morning and then he told me to strip. Slowly but surely I removed my clothes, shoes first and I worked my way up. There is no point in trying to be modest, no point in trying to hide anything.
He had me stand legs spread, arms at my side as he checked me over. He spoke softly the whole time, I still haven’t a clue what he said. When he went to check my mouth, I balked. For some reason I am more self conscious of having my mouth wide open than I am having my naked arse up in the air. I think it also had to do with the fact that I am a smoker and he wasn’t; even though I must have brushed my teeth about ten times that morning, I’m sure he could still smell cigarettes on my breath. I remember him letting it go, said he would “get to it later”. Down on hands and knees, crawl…. You know the usual stuff.
Stand again; he tied my arms behind my back with a length of rope before sitting on the desk chair and telling me that it was time to be punished for what I had said weeks earlier. Over his knee like a little kid, this was new; rather awkward I must say. I’ve never been spanked before, still not sure if I liked it or not, cannot say that it did anything for me. I haven’t a clue how many times he spanked each cheek with his hand, he did not ask me to count as others have done in the past. I was too busy concentrating on not putting my full weight on his lap, even though he told me to.
After a time he stopped and told me to stand, I think he hugged me, or it could have been later. He then told me that I needed to be punished for both my tardiness and behaviour the night before. On to my knees again, leaning over the footstool, I heard him take off his belt. Speaking he said that he did not normally use a belt but it was all that he had. I recall the first stroke on my already red arse jolting the breath right out of me. The sound of the leather connecting with my skin echoed around the room and I hate to think what the people in the other rooms thought if they had heard it and the earlier spanking. Again, he did not ask me to count; I have no idea how many strokes he gave me. I closed my eyes and relaxed against the blows; wishing that it were my last Master, hoping that it was but knowing full well that it wasn’t. When he stopped, I allowed myself to breath again. I felt his hand between my legs and he mentioned something about my being wet.
I cannot remember if he took the ropes of while I was bent over the footstool or not but he had me stand up. He sat down on the edge of the bed as I knelt between his legs with my head against his chest as he held me. Stroked the rising welts on my skin and said he liked the feel of them as they rose, the heat that came from them.
I ended up flat on my back on the floor, by this time the last patch had fallen off and I was feeling rather ill. Pinching and pulling at nipples and lips, he spoke of piercing here and there. Fingers between my lips and to my mouth, I turned away. He tried a few more times but I refused before turning onto my stomach and started to sob like a baby. It’s not as though I don’t like the taste of myself, I rather do, but it was getting too much. I shouldn’t have been there, I wanted him to be my last Master but he wasn’t. I had even stated in my profile I had only been looking for friends. So what had occurred between Shadow and myself came completely out of the blue. He held me for a time before moving back to the bed. I don’t know how long I cried for but it seemed as though I sobbed for hours. I felt so stupid, I hate crying in front of people I don’t know. I hate crying full stop; I feel crying is a sign of weakness, I always have. To cry in front of Shadow, I was disgusted with myself for showing him this, I still am.
He allowed me to dress, for which I was grateful; not that it mattered too much by this time as he had seen me both naked and sooking. He had seen it all. Still I cried, each time I attempted to speak, I just started anew. I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Eventually the waterworks stopped and I sidled up next to him and just knelt there with my forehead resting against his shin. If I hadn’t have started crying I would have gone straight home as soon as I dressed. We spoke a little but mainly just sat there, me at his feet, occasionally he stroked my hair and that was all. This is what I miss the most with having a Master. The quiet times, when you do not need words to fill the silence, the times you can just “be”.
Hmmm yes, so that was that. We did end up watching a movie, except I was so tired and ill by that time that I slept through most of it, with my head on his thigh. I’d planned to stay with him until he left to catch his plane but I needed to go home. I was dizzy and felt like absolute crap. He walked me to the station and I went home. I should have caught a taxi home, it was peak hour, the train was packed, and I stood the whole trip home. My head was throbbing; the idiot standing next to me had an empty can, he was “clicking” it. I could have throttled him, or spewed on him… Grrrr At my stop it was *lovely* to get off the train only to attempt to vomit a few steps later. I was sick as a dog by the time I got home; I gave Shadow a quick call and wished him a good flight home before crawling into bed.
You know, I’ve only just realises how very near I got to putting myself into hospital that day by stupidly putting two nicotine patches on. The lethal dose of nicotine, for an adult, is 60mg, while the lethal dose of arsenic is 200mg. The nicotine in patches is more potent because it needs to be absorbed though ones skin. Now I put on two patches at 21mg each, so that was a dose of 42mg. Gee I’m lucky they were the cheap ones that didn’t stick very well, I could very well have killed myself or put myself in a coma if they had stayed stuck. Guess this is a word of warning about using nicotine patches.
Regardless, I had a brilliant black and blue bruised arse that is only just now nearly gone. There is still the faintest yellow tinge to my skin. I’m just sorry it didn’t hurt more than it did. Gee I whinge… :P
Anyhoos, that’s more than enough for now.
I wish you well,
Wednesday 16th April 2008