Milovana.com

Not even sure that this belongs in here.
If so, I imagine the admins will see fit to remove it.
And even if that doesn't happen, it might actually bore you to tears. *g*

This post is as much for my own benefit, as it is about perking your interest.
It is a post (probably multi-part) about how one man (that would be me) *finally* took the plunge from fantasy and cyber-programs into a real-life session.

So why is this interesting?
Well, it probably isn't. As I mentioned, this is just as much something I'm writing for myself.
The thing is, I'm pushing some mental boundaries, and I need to try and set things down into words, preferably to an audience who might actually get it.
And let's face it, the number of day-to-day conversations that naturally meander towards SM experiences can be counted on one severely mangled hand.
So I figured I'd try this sort of forum, to see if I can make sense of it all.

A short intro is probably in order:
I'm male (duh!), 39, european, single. (Not necessarily in that order)
I've had an interest in the D/s scene probably since my late teens or so. Since then the both myself and thus my fantasies have evolved, been refined and so on, to a point where I'm fairly sure where I belong.
Keywords would include T&D, Heels, Canes, Mind Games, to name the highlights.
I've always followed a number of forums online, although mainly behind the scenes, as it were.
I can lurk with the best of them.

Anyway, back to the gist of the matter.
The past 6 months or so, I'd been toying with the idea of engaging a pro Domme to find out if the fantasies should remain just that.
Hadn't been searching for a 24/7 Domme, just someone who'd assist me in a single session.
So I made a deal with myself.
The next time I had a few days off from work, I'd do it. And to add a little incentive I decided that there'd be no more orgasms until I'd actually gone through with it.
Why wait for the days off?
Well, I figured I'd give myself a couple of days for any bruises to heal. Bringing a pillow to work would probably draw more than a little attention, and there really isn't any credible explanation readily available.

So I contacted a Domme.
That would be the short version.

Sounds easy, doesn't it?
*Finding* a Domme that caters to your taste is the easy part. The internet, local adverts etc. takes care of that.
It doesn't involve any *real* contact, so thus far one is still safely hidden in a coccoon of anonymity.
*Calling* her is a lot more work.
Between the time I'd punched in the number, and when I actually hit "Connect" something like 45 minutes passed.
Most of the time just sitting there staring at my cellphone going back and forth between two lines of thought:

1) The battle between two voices in my head. One howling in a cry of liberation, shouting "Finally! 'Bout time you did something!"........And the other one quietly poking my shoulder whispering "Look, do you have any idea what you're getting yourself in to?"

2) Wondering how exactly do you do this?
This is a phone-conversation that, when distilled to its basic concept, involves you calling up a perfect stranger and saying something along the lines of: "Well, I was wondering if you could see fit to take this cane, and beat the living crap out of my ass".
Now, I don't know about you, but I had some difficulties thinking of an introductory greeting that would somehow lead up to *that*.

And don't even get me started about worrying if there's a misprint in the advert, and you get a wrong number.
Suffice to say that I'm very good at worrying.

So, after much deliberation I hit connect..........And get an answering-machine.
Thus follows 3 seconds of absolute, complete, total and utter panic.
Because I realize that if I'm to try and leave a message about something like this, it'll probably sound something like:
"Agoowoe wheefr hrmui phooooa"
Or in other words, I'm pretty sure I'm not lucid enough to make even vaguely humanoid sounds.
The thing is, that these past 45 minutes my heart has been racing, I'm lighting cigs at an appaling rate, and neurons seem to fire at random intervals making nerve-endings tingle all over the place.
Remember when you, back in your teens, called someone you'd really like to......ahem.....get to know better, and wondering if you're better off risk getting rejected or just living in ignorance?
Try magnifying that to the power of ten.

Ah, but there's a happy ending. I'm saved by the bell.
She picks up the phone, and lo and behold, I actually manage a reasonably coherent sentence about seeing the advert and would booking a time be possible? (Still not quite sure how I did that)
And she says: "Sure, but can you hang on a minute? I'm just kicking another customer out the door."

Uhhmmmmm......
And suddenly it all falls into place.
There's someone else there. She does this regularly. You're not the only twerp out there. *g*
It's not that I didn't know that intellectually, I mean just look at all the messageboards floating around in cyberspace.....But still.
*HUGE* relief.
So now everything is basically okay. It's an everyday transaction to some degree.
I give a short description of what I'm interested in, she asks clarifying questions etc.
So a time is set (this coming friday), all the details (well, almost all) are set, and now I hear this......
"But you should send me an E-mail tomorrow describing your fantasy. The more I know about it, the better I can do the scene".

Right.

I suppose it shouldn't have been a surprise, but it's just not something that I'd considered.
I'm already mentally drained, and now I got to sit down and write out one of my deepest, darkest secrets?!?
Oh okay. I'll get right on that, then.

Oh, my buggering aunt..........
Roughly 90 minutes later I have something that at least resembles a narrative.
The hard part, as I discovered, is trying to find out how many details to include.
One of the things I was looking for was the absence of control. So I don't want to know exactly what is going to happen.
On the other hand, I do want the session to follow a certain trend, so that I have a rough idea of what I'm getting into.
Basically, it's trying to describe a framework, but trusting someone you've never met to fill out the details, hopefully hitting some of your fantasy highlights.
Or in other words, after several rewrites my Delete key is groaning in agony, protesting about over-use.

That mail was finished 6 hours ago............At time of writing it is 5am, and I've managed about 45 minutes of sleep.
I'm utterly incapable of concentrating on anything. I've tried putting on a DVD, but I can't seem to keep track of the storyline. Tried turning on the PS2,and get my mind into neutral with some virtual bloodletting, but no go.
Pulse is holding steady at around 130bpm, fingers are still trembling, stomach appears to be inventing new knots on the fly...........
Whole body seems to be humming in a weird way.
And nothing has actually *happened* yet!

I've still to send her a confirmation, so there are absolutely no obligations. Nothing is set.
And yet even now both mind and body seems to be doing a conga-line through my cognitive self, basically kicking things at random.
Extremely weird........Not unpleasant, but nothing that is an even remotely familiar feeling.....
Although if this feeling intensifies as friday approaches, I might need a padded cell somewhere along the line.

And thus ends part one.........
My plan was to do a small update tomorrow (D minus 24, so to speak), and a final chapter after the seance.
So if that holds any interest to you, please let me know.
If not........Well, I'll probably post anyway *g*

Cheerfully

Go For it!
Look forward to part 2 & 3

In Awe

That was, and i mean this, incredibly well written.

You actually took a subject that, on its own, could have been a bore, and made it intresting. Further, you made me care about how it turns out.

I dont know if this is something you have ever considered, and maybe i am sounding foolish (for all i know you are a novelist) but you should very much consider writting more often, perhaps as a hobby, maybe as something more.

Yes, i will be looking for your next installment. good imagery (is that a word?) good flow. Great little post

Great post. You were kind of down on yourself in the first paragraphs but Im sure its a subject many people want to read about. Personally Ive never done the whole pro-domme thing and this is the kind of thing I want to know about.

Sure the nerves might be sending you insane but it must also be making you feel ALIVE!
Im not sure I can think of too many regular sexual encounters that have made me feel that way...

Uh, I can really feel with you. I think, if I made this step I would completely feel the same way. I remember my first visit at a BDSM-regulars' table.
But congratulations, you did it - I hope to read more, especially if the session was good (I' m sure it will be ).

First of all, thanks for the kind words.
Always nice to see that one isn't the only one with an interest in this.

But part 2:

Back in the 60's when Hitchcock invented the suspense-genre, he was asked where he got the idea.
And he said it was from a story he'd heard about a monastery school which used corporal punishment. The trick was that the student, having been sentenced, could choose any point in the week to receive the punishment, as long as it was before friday evening.
And invariably, every student opted to postpone the execution as long as possible. Which only meant that during the entire week they had the spectre of future pain looming in front of them, and anticipation growing daily.
Thus the suspense-genre got born.

I'm starting to get that now.
This is driving me *nuts*

I've managed to calm down a little since the last post, making me able to at least function reasonably.
Also, I no longer look like a crank-addict, incessantly pacing through the apartment to burn off nervous energy.
But the odd thing is that it's not completely gone.
While I may be able to mentally shelve the fact that friday is closing in, the idea is always sloshing around just below the conscious mind.
And every so often, my mind takes a wrong turn, and a wave rolls over the edge.

And everything simply stops for a few seconds.
It's a bit like having someone take out your brain, and dip it in ice-water.
All movement is suspended, the heart-rate shoots up, and you're suddenly aware of every square inch of skin your body has.
Then you're able to breathe again, and life goes on.........
Albeit with tingles running up your spine, and a small forest of hairs springing up from your arms.

It's *insane* how much brain capacity sheer anticipation can take up.
There's over 23 hours to go, and absolutely nothing I can do to influence the process in the meantime.
So the logical way to proceed would be to shove the whole thing into a corner of the mind, and get on with the day.
Unfortunately, logic seems to have taken the week off.
Every so often this little guy from my subconscious pops up, and says "Remember friday......"
Part of me simply wants to grab him by his scrawny little neck and shout:
"Yes, I know! I am fully fucking aware, thank you very much!"

It's not that I'm scared, or apprehensive in any way.
I (oddly enough) have absolute faith in the Domme, and her ability to be able to read me.
What makes the whole thing so nerve-wrackingly tittilating is the sheer impossibility of preparing for it.
I have absolutely *no* basis for comparison. No experiences to give a hint.
What I do seem to have in abundance, is a devious mind that loves throwing curveball ideas about what might happen.

But the confirmation has been sent, so it is definitely on.
Received an e-mail from her with the final details, which didn't exactly decrease the turmoil in me.
I asked to be kept in the dark as to what exactly will happen, except for a few things that definitely *had* to be included.
And I'm certainly getting what I asked for.
One thing I hadn't expected though.
In my latest e-mail, I mentioned this post, and gave her the link in case she was curious.
Turns out she took the time to read it.
Now *that* is a classy touch.

So there's no danger of me wimping out, for several reasons.
First, I've sent the confirmation, and if you make an appointment, you keep it, unless limbs are broken, or there's an arterial spray involved somehow.
Just the way I was brought up.
Second, I have so much emotional stuff involved in this, and if I wimp out now, I have serious doubts about being able to ramp up the psychological fortitude to do this again.

And besides.
Whilst there is alot of oddly firing neurons, I also find myself occasionally wearing a grin that......
Well, suffice to say that if this grin gets any wider, the top half of my head will fall off.

23 hours to go......
So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go back home and bounce of the walls a little.

Cheerfully

Friday's already here, in Australia. ;)

Can't be that much further off....

Yeah fridays here in the Uk too! (Well, 12:40 am so that counts)
Cant wait to read your report, your a talented writer.

I also agree with Indigo, you would write a great webtease

Hmmmmm.....

What to do first?
Well, let's get some of the suspense out of the way immediately.
That was what can only be described as a rousing success!
Man, what a mind-fuck. *LOL*

Now, I promised an update, and there will be one, just not right now.
First of all, I'm still "digesting" a lot of it.
Second, I promised the Domme some feedback and, no offense to anyone in here, but her wishes comes before you lot.

Besides which, teasing *IS* what we do in here, isn't it?

There won't be a "blow-by-blow" (no pun intended) account of what happened.
Firstly because a lot of my recollections are still-images, instead of a flowing narrative memory.
Second, as Indigo mentioned, this is quite honestly something that is *mine*.
(Well, and hers)
Don't know quite else how to describe it.

What I will try to do after the week-end is give an idea of some of the aspects involved, and what passed through what can loosely be referred to as my brain.
Not sure how it'll be formatted yet, or how much will be included.
Something to think about the next few days.
No sense in writing about this unless it's done properly.

I can give you a little something though......
After the session, I found it impossible to just go back home.
Simply couldn't see myself just snapping back into real life.
So I ended up driving around for an hour or so, just looking at all the other people around.
Thinking:
"You people with your fancy cars, careers, mortgages, dull vanilla sex-lifes........You sorry fuckers have no idea what you're missing out on."

As I said, it was *very* good. *LOL*
The rest you'll have to wait for.

Cheerfully

Real-life is that which, when you stop believing in it, refuses to go away.

Now where was I?
Ah yes, Part 3.

Let's start with one more bit of information about myself.
As some of the earlier posts might have told you, I have a tendency to have mental conversations with myself, especially in situations of stress.
It's obviously not as clear-cut as that when it happens, since that would indicate some sort of mental illness, but it's a good way of illustrating it.
It's usually one side of me, receiving information and reacting instantly.
Closely followed by a more rational side, which has had time to process the information, usually saying something along the lines of: "Don't be ridiculous."
Probably a little weird, but then, normality is over-rated.
Hell, look at my chosen nickname.

Just a thing to keep in mind as you read the following, since that happened quite a few times during friday.

But the story starts thursday evening, as I decide to drive past the scene for tomorrow.
Three reasons for this.
1) Sleep is out of the question at the moment. While I'm not exactly hyper anymore, settling down on a pillow would be an exercise in futility.
2) I'm curious, and
3) While I know the address, and have found it on a map, it's not a neighbourhood I'm familiar with, and I'd like to know how long it'll take to drive there, so I'm on time the next day.

So I find myself driving by this ordinary brick-house, thinking:
"Wow, it's just a house"..........
At which point my other side kicks in asking: "Well, what did you expect?"

I don't know.......
Skulls, gargoyles, a heraldic shield with two whips crossed over a blazing butt?
Maybe a sign saying "Abandon all hope....."?
How the hell would I know?!?
Probably silly, but it just phazed me a little that something, that had caused so much mental turmoil looked so ordinary.
Ah well, chalk it up to yet one more thing I hadn't thought through.

Anyway, THE day finally arrives.
She'd asked me to send one more confirmation at noon the same day, since my nervousness was so painfully obvious that she'd like to be sure I didn't get cold feet.
And after that confirmation had been sent, some sort of Zen-like tranquility descended.
I'm not exactly sure why. Shouldn't be any real difference.
But I think it's because now there's nothing more to do.
All that remains is to show up and be there for an hour.
And let's face it, even *I* am good at being somewhere. Hell, I'm somewhere on a daily basis. *g*

Now, in my first post I mentioned how weird I thought it would be, to ask a perfect stranger to do something like this on the phone.
I had the same sort of akward feeling about going in.
I mean, how do you go from being just ordinary me, to a full-blown sub-me just by crossing a doorstep?!?
That, as it turns out, was very easily solved.

I ring the doorbell, she opens up, and I have time to get a "hi.." out.
Then she simply grabs the front of my shirt, and drags me into the bathroom.
Orders me to my knees, gives a short speech setting the scene for the fantasy (not telling you what that was), and says:
"I'm going to prepare a few things. You will leave payment by the sink, put your clothes on that chair, and you will be naked and kneeling when I return".
And then she leaves, closing the door.

"Ahw...Hee....Buh....."
Articulate, aren't I?

The odd thing is that she never raises her voice, doesn't bark orders.
It's simply a statement that says "this is what will happen". Impossible to disobey, even if I wanted to.
But it's extremely liberating. Now all doubts, worries and what have you, are left on the chair along with the clothing, and all I have to do is go along.

And of course there's her.......
Absolutely stunning little curly-haired Domme.
I had purposely not gone into the picture-gallery, since not knowing is half the fun for me.
So when she opens the door I'm thinking "holy shit!"
(That is, I got to "Holy...." and then she grabbed my shirt, which pretty much ended cognitive thought for a while).
The mind-boggling thing is that I'm a tall guy (6'4"), and when she greets me in heels she reaches to just below my shoulders.
So not only do I have the feeling that I'm being outnumbered one-to-one, it's done to me by someone who I, should I feel so inclined, could easily drop-kick over the nearest fence.
Then again, I probably couldn't.
Because she has an unbelievable *presence*.
There has hardly been a spoken word, and yet it is made implicitly clear that this is *her* world.

And so we're off to the races...........

Now, as I said earlier, I'm not going to give a full account of what happened next.
There are some things that are for my consumption only.
But I decided to share two things, for the same reasons that I started this post in the first place.
In some weird way it helps me to process it simply by writing about it, and preferably with an attentive audience.
(that would be you lot)

The first is something that I had read about time and time again.
Every time I've read about a sub being punished and for example being asked to count the blows, they always tell you how hard that is.
Up until friday I had been somewhat cavalierly dismissive about that.
It can't possibly be that hard.

And for once I was absolutely right. It's not hard.
It's border-line impossible.

I wasn't asked to count.
The whole thing started with her calling me something (again, details purposely left out), asked "What are you?",
at which point I respond with the same four words.
Dead easy the first time. But then what I guess is a few minutes pass (the whole timeline is one big guesstimate) in which a lot of things happen, and I'm asked again.......Drawing a total blank.
I honestly try as hard as I can not to displease her, but I'm utterly incapable of remembering four words.
So I get them repeated (and get a few whacks as a reminder)......
And I find myself swimming in a dark ocean under a jet-black sky, clinging to the life-raft of those four words with every ounce of willpower I can muster.
Because I realize that if I ever let go, I will never, ever see them again.

To give you some idea of the task involved, I imagine it must be something like trying to memorize the complete works of Shakespeare, whilst sitting through a Metallica concert.

The second thing........
Where do I start......?

Let me say this.
There have been comments in this post about how well I convey what I'm feeling.
I deeply thank you for those words, and they are truly appreciated.
But the fact remains that, no matter how good you may think I am, and no matter how eloquently I manage to put this, there is no way I can do it justice.
It simply can't be done.
But I'll do my best.

Given that this wasn't a 24/7 thing, I had expected things to be.........
If not clinical, then certainly somewhat aloof, distant or something like that.
I mean, we don't know each other, it's not as if we're lovers.
Hell, she's never seen me naked.
And presumably she has a ton of other clients, so why would I be special?

Man, was I wrong.
Throughout the whole seance there had been a lot of full-body contact.
Constantly brushing up against me, rubbing my head into her and so on.
Her being fully clothed, naturally.
And the whole time has been spent going from one sensation to another, mixing pleasure with pain, to a point where I'm unsure which is which.

So now I'm standing blindfolded. Hands are chained to a cross on the wall, with my legs out on the floor, spread.
Basically it looks like I'm about to be frisked.
And I'm still desperately chanting those four words to myself.

At some point she must've lost her top.
Because suddenly she slips under my arm, and I can feel her skin rubbing on my chest, her lips are whispering right into my ear, and this scented cloud of perfume washes over me.........
*WHAM*
And that's it. Total sensory overload.
My brain literally *implodes*.

I am *this* close to outright weeping.
And it's not because I'm hurting, or I'm scared.
It's just.......
It's TOO MUCH!

There are so many things happening, flooding my head with info, that all remaining vestiges of conscious thought simply balks in awe, and shuts down.
Had you at this point asked me what my name was, I couldn't possibly have answered.
Nor do I have any idea what happened the next few moments.
Every single nerve is stuck in receive-mode while my brain feverishly tries to reboot.

Incredibly, and ultimately indescribably powerful.
Hell, just writing about it has me shaking once more.

.
..
...
....

It's the same at the end of the session.
I can see and feel her releasing my hands.
I can hear her talking, and hear myself answering. Everything is registrering as such, but nothing seems to really connect.
It's not until 10 minutes later in the shower that I start to feel anything even remotely resembling myself again.


So, here I sit, a world of experiences richer.
I'm not going to claim that I'm a different person, or anything so high-faluting.
Nor am I going to go out and proudly state that this is something everyone should try.
I feel incredibly lucky to have had such a beautiful first run.
But I obviously can't guarantee that anyone here will have that experience, nor find a Domme this good.
However, if you need to ask if I think it was worth it, you really have to read the above one more time *g*
It was nothing like I had imagined, but far better than I had hoped.

Was it expensive?
I don't know. Compared to what?
I mean, I have friends who've spent nearly the same amount on e.g. a parachute jump to get their kicks.
I spent over four times as much on my latest tattoo.
It *is* a sizable chunk of my budget, no doubt about that.
It's not something I could do every week, or for that matter every month.
But then, I wouldn't want to.
The very worst thing I can imagine right now, is if I ever get *used* to feeling like this.
That being said.....
While these may have been my first shaky steps into unknown territory, it's not the last time I'm going to visit.
Assuming of course that she's willing to let me back in.

And thus the saga ends.
Hopefully it has been remotely interesting, and I've done my best to convey what it entailed for me.
Should you wish to take the same steps into the real-life scene, I offer you my best wishes and happy hunting.
Thank you again for listening, and for your kind words.

Cheerfully