The Last Straw :: By Kay

I think this session very much describes Kay's true ideas about BDSM, ideas that she hasn't even really realized yet. But, read on, its interesting. ~Sin

The session that occurred the night after the party...I was in a very good mood and it was a rather light session because I was on my period. It was almost relaxing in a way.

The next session was only a few days later, but my happiness had obviously had time to dissipate. My slight feelings of unease about sessions were able to return and the ease with which I'd slid into submissive mode the previous time had disappeared by this time. I can't remember how the session started, but I remember how it ended. He was going to punish me for something. I can't remember what. But he asked me if I was spanked as a child. That was his first mistake. I told him I was. He continued talking for a minute and then told me he would place me over his knee and spank my bottom.

That was his second mistake. I cried out 'No!' and he said 'No?' in a tone that questioned why on earth I would possibly be questioning my Master. That was his third mistake. (And the list keeps getting longer) I said no with a little more determination before I broke down crying and he pulled me into his arms. I didn't want to be there, but I stayed. He'd reminded me of all the things my parents had ever done wrong in a position where I was most vulnerable and then he'd threatened to repeat them. That's why I was crying. But he will never know that. We moved on. He told me to get onto the table and we engaged in some sensation play.

He told me a submissive rarely got to choose what happened to her and so when he was finished doing as he pleased, he practically ordered me to choose something. I can't really think when I'm in submissive mode, so I chose the first thing that came to mind. The leather gloves. That was my mistake. He'd manhandled me a little earlier in the session. I simultaneously liked it

and hated it. I don't know why I chose the gloves. Again, my mistake. So he manhandled me. And I

writhed on the table. I can’t remember how we ended, but we were going to start Cool Down and he sat on the table and he hugged me. And I stayed for a second, staring into space before I shot off the table, telling him I wanted to go home. I ran to get my stuff, tugging my shirt on before my face dropped into my palms and I just cried. He didn’t know what to do, but at some point he pulled me into his arms and I just cried. He checked my pulse and apparently he told me I went into shock.

I stared at the wall. I didn’t know what else to do. I felt…violated. I can’t even explain it. And I looked at my cell phone. He found it appropriate to say “Time flies when you’re having fun.” If I’d had anything left in me, I would have choked him. Instead I said no and informed

him that I’d promised my roommate the house until midnight. There was some offer made to let me go to a room upstairs and continue cooling down. I rejected it for obvious reasons. He told me there were still people upstairs, but I squared my shoulders, composed myself, told him I didn’t care, that I could act, and I marched up the stairs. He was wrong, there was no one. And so he tried to keep me talking for a bit, but I didn’t respond and I finally left. I’m surprised I made it home. My eyes were blank as I drove and I even missed a turn at some point.

He called a few days later. I didn’t answer my phone.

My roommate and I went to see him about a week later. I’d refused to go alone. And I told him my sessions either needed to be continued with a Mistress, or not at all.

So they are on pause until further notice.

Do you think a female mistress would really be that different from a man? *shrug* maybe, maybe not. She might be worse...

Play safe! ~Sin