Photo taken in October 2002
That’s a photo of me about a week after I turned 18. That’s when my hair was its natural light color, I was still a student at an all girl’s Catholic high school, and about 3 hours before I would go to a bondage club for the very first time. This was when I couldn’t comprehend what it meant to be a masochist or a painslut but felt aroused by the notion of harsh sensation on my body, when I still had a curfew, before my breasts had even fully come in on my chest, and when I would galavant about the city of Angels with a young man so fixated on vintage attire he would dare leave the house dressed in anything made before 1955. None of my usual spots would do for this night, though. I wanted to do something that had been on my mind for a long time.
I was looking for trouble that night, you see. I had already stumbled onto novels, friends at punk rock clubs, and the internet of course. I knew that there was something else out there was dirty and deviant and much more suiting to my personality than a coffee shop. I made plans to go out to a goth club that also had dungeon play space and guest dominants that may or may not have starred in graphic fetish films or worked as professionals in the field. I was so excited that I could finally be admitted even if I was only allowed to drink soda. I really had no idea what to expect out of everything but I was ready for whatever it could offer me.
I lived in Los Angeles at the time and we took off for Hollywood. I came in with some friends that were already of drinking age and they told me to walk right up to the dungeon area and ask for a particular friend of theirs to celebrate my birthday properly. Good company is always happy to help someone connect with their desire and they had set things up for my evening. With just the smallest case of nerves I walked right up and introduced myself and was immediately whisked off to a corner where a very friendly woman helped me apply electrical tape to my nipples for the first time and then led me back to the stage.
The Dom I was to play with had already seen some photos of me and I had been pointed out to him as he was getting ready but he was an absolute mystery to me beyond the smiling comments of my friends that I would absolutely adore him. He was absolutely exquisite looking. Already a tall man, he also wore a pair of stilettos and had on intricate eye makeup and a corset. Despite the feminine accouterment he was very masculine. I remember staring at the muscles in his arms and feeling tiny in his presence. He was kind, gracious, and patient in explaining what it was we would do and trying to coax out of me what it was I wanted. I knew that I didn’t want to settle for the bondage club spanking equivalent of restaurant servers singing the house version of “Happy Birthday” but I didn’t know what else there was. I felt like I was trying to order off of an invisible menu.
He took by the hand with a gentlemen’s grip and had me face out toward the crowd and bent me over a spanking bench. I was soon to learn that grace and charm do not preclude sadism. To our mutual delight I enjoyed every dish on the invisible menu. The flogger felt like a crisp salad, the spanking was like a savory meat, his canes were perfectly complimentary side dishes, and to my very delight the single tail whip was like a dessert. It hurt, but it made me tingle. I realized that I also adored having so many people watch. I wondered if they could get up and do what I was doing. I wondered if they thought it was scary or sexy or some combination of both.
In that scene a couple of things rose to the top of my psyche. I had heard about subspace and I was a bit surprised that my mind didn’t drift off to some far away happy place. My mind stayed entirely present with my surroundings and the sensations I felt. As I grabbed onto the padded bar I was also grabbing on to the moment. I wanted to interact, I wanted to remember. Now I understand that I am a bottom and a masochist and I sometimes lament my inability to experience submission. But in that first scene I just reveled in everything I felt. I also tasted exhibitionism and liked it. I knew that I wanted to do it again, but I had to parse out what parts of ‘it’ I wanted. Having an audience was definitely a part of what I found so delicious.
I don’t feel that I was particularly changed by the event, I think I was actualized. It’s the moment I can point to as the birth of Maggie Mayhem. The conception of that part of me is still a little fuzzy, but that is the first time that I came out into the world. I didn’t know at that moment that I would go onto college, meet other kinky people, network, and have a huge portion of my life consumed by my sexual drive but I must have had an inkling.
There is a saying that all good things must come to an end, but that isn’t entirely accurate. All good things must come to a pause. I remember being lifted off of the bench into a hug and the immediate disappointment I felt. I didn’t want a hug, I wanted more of that big stick or the snappy thing that made the delightful noise. I started to protest that I could go longer, that I was still very hungry but he simply smiled and put a finger to my lips and said, “My dear, you always leave them wanting more.”
“I knew that I didn’t want to settle for the bondage club spanking equivalent of restaurant servers singing the house version of “Happy Birthday” but I didn’t know what else there was.”This is one of the most awesome sentences I’ve read in a long time. I’m enjoying your blog a lot. It’s great to read anything so laid-back and positive about sex.
Thanks! I’m looking over yours and drooling because I think that vintage inspired shoes and stockings are so hot. You might inspire a bit of a binge shopping trip for me.
Maggie I find you such a lot of fun that I’m posting a link to this story of yours along with an excerpt and the photo on Spanking Scouts. Of course I have Zille to thank for bringing you onto my radar in the first place.http://chross.blogt.ch/forum/read.php?2,1035,1556#msg-1556
Oh, thanks so much! I have a lot to thank Zille for, certainly, but meeting wonderful people is another thing to add to the list of things I owe her. I can’t imagine what she’ll do when she cashes them all in on me at once!