My First Experience in a BDSM Club
I walked in with my heart pounding in my throat. “Obsidian” was tucked beneath an old townhouse downtown, nestled in its vaulted cellar. Red lights bathed the narrow stairs, and the air was thick with the scent of leather, incense — and something else. Something unspoken. Dangerous. Irresistibly magnetic.
I wore a simple black dress with a low-cut back and lace stockings. I felt naked despite the fabric. I had never been to a place like this. Never even allowed myself to fantasize too boldly. And yet… something had pulled me here. Before I could enter the main room, a woman in a latex bodysuit met me. Her eyes were cold, her neck adorned with curling tattoos.
— “First time?” - she asked, as if she already knew.
I nodded.
— “I’ll take you to the newcomers’ area. Watch. Listen. If you feel the urge… say yes. But remember — everything is up to you.”
She led me into a large, dimly lit chamber. There were a dozen or so people. Bodies in motion, nude or barely clothed. Stands, ropes, cages, mirrors. The sound of strikes and moans. This wasn’t pornography. It was… beauty. Brutal, sensual beauty.
In the corner sat a man. Tall, with silver at his temples. He wore only pants, holding a collar in one hand. He looked at me. And only me. I walked up to him.
— “My name is Anna,” I said softly.
— “I’m Krystian. I’m submissive. Will you lead me?”
My heart was pounding. But my lips said:
— “Yes. I will.”
He offered me the end of the collar. We walked into a semi-private alcove, veiled in velvet curtains. On a side table lay the tools: a flogger, a blindfold, wax, cuffs. I started with his shirt. Took it off slowly, piece by piece, leaving trails of my nails across his skin.
— “Kneel.”
He obeyed without hesitation. I tied a black scarf around his eyes, then lifted his chin in my hand.
Yes, I liked this. This power. That he was mine — for a moment or forever, it didn’t matter. I traced his chest with my fingers. Then reached for the flogger. The first strike was gentle. Testing. The second — firmer. His skin pinkened. He shuddered. His breathing deepened.
— “Does it feel good?”
— “Yes, Mistress.”
That one word spilled through me like hot wine. I unbuttoned his trousers. He was hard. Ready. But I didn’t allow anything more. Instead, I pressed him to the wall, cuffing his wrists. I leaned in close to his ear.
— “You won’t come until I say. Rush it… and we stop. Understand?”
— “Yes, Mistress.”
I teased him slowly — with my body, my tongue, my hands. Sometimes punishing him with a soft blow, sometimes a cold kiss. When he teetered on the edge, I leaned against him, unzipped my dress, and let him feel me. Fully. Intensely. To a rhythm only I commanded.
When I finally let him release, he trembled. Still bound, he held me close. And I… I felt something more than just pleasure. I felt power. Control. And something I’d never known before. Fulfillment.