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Rewriting History Ch. 01

By: Vixen211



We went to a class – "Advanced Fetish". Interesting...was I really that "advanced?" I think it was more that I felt I had a reasonable familiarity with the workings of BDSM, having had a curiosity for years, friends who were in that Lifestyle, and had read everything I could get my perverse, greedy hands upon. 

If you asked me, I would tell you that what I enjoyed about being tied up (or tied down) was the sense of safety. I'm very much what's referred to as a 'type A personality' in my everday, professional life; and so, being put into a submissive scene, I felt I could let go of my control, and still feel safe. Very few people who had asked me about it truly understood my feelings on the subject, so even if it came up in conversation, I rarely brought up my interest in the topic.

We listened to the Domme tell stories, answer questions, and raise new ones. Finally, my lover raised his hand and asked, "Do you ever wonder what the motivation is behind the desire for a particular scene?"

A light bulb went off in my head – THIS was the reason he was afraid. Deep down, he was afraid that there was some dark, twisted thing curled up inside of me. Something which, if he indulged it, would come out, teeth bared and drag the 'me' he knew away.

I touched his hand. The Domme answered 'no.' He said that it isn't the Domme's place to know the motivation behind the desire. As long as both parties are consenting, the Domme has expertise enough to accomplish what is being asked of him, and there is no danger of serious damage to the Sub, he follows through.

After the class, we talked and went over my feelings on the subject. In particular, I was interested in what the Domme had said about using BDSM as a means of "rewriting history." That is, taking a previously traumatic situation and re-creating it – or at least, in the Sub's mind – and replacing it with a new memory....one that empowers the person rather than shames them.

This – THIS is what I had been searching for, but did not realize it was what I'd wanted.

That night, we entered the room, dimly lit with candles. To the right, a massage table on which various women were lying down to have warm wax painted onto their backs and then peeled off....with a knife. In the center of the room, a cross with arms, which had slats like a staircase, and a bench behind it. Off in the darker corner to the right, a large X-shaped cross, to which a woman we'd met earlier in the day was being tied. Chairs were scattered around the room as individuals and couples sat back and vicariously took in the torture of others. 

As I walked toward friends of ours, a man sitting near me brushed my thigh and looked me in the eyes. "Hello," he said. 

"Oh, hello," I replied, smiling a bit nervously. 

"Are you going to play tonight?" he asked me.

"Maybe," I said, wondering if he was wanting to watch me.

"My name is Daniel," he said. "If you need any assistance, please let me know," he offered, and kissed the back of my right hand.

"I would enjoy that," I said, my heart beating a bit faster.

"I must warn you," he said with a wicked glint in his eye, "I'm a mean, naughty man."

"I knew there was something I liked about you," I laughed and slid past him to go toward my lover.

A friend of ours hugged me hello and asked me if I'd thought about getting 'into the sawhorse.' He pointed to an object that had been tucked away from view when we first entered – it was a wooden sawhorse that had been padded and covered with leather. There were small box-like structures for a person's forearms and shins to rest in, and be strapped down. 

"Sure, why not," I laughed. "Let's see how comfortable it is."

I climbed onto it in an all-fours position, and mark strapped each of my limbs in with two buckled straps for each. I had to readjust my body to find a comfortable place for my sternum to rest, but it really was quite comfortable.

I heard my lover say something quietly behind me, and felt the cold, feathery tips of a rubber-like cat of many tails trail across my back. "Maybe I'll whip you a little while you're in there," he said. I turned my head back toward him and smiled.

He started to move the whip gently in a figure-8 pattern I'd taught him long ago. It was something I'd learned from a fetish-friend in college. The touch of it was noticeable, but not painful. He got more forceful, but didn't have a lot of control over it – and ended up smacking my labia rather painfully a couple of times. Each time, I would jump and exclaim "Ouch!" and he would apologize.

A few moments later, the man who had introduced himself when I came in leaned over my shoulder and said, "Do you mind if I play a little?"

"Not at all," I replied in a way I hoped sounded nonchalant.

Suddenly, I was blinded by a series of 'thwacks' from the whip in his hand. It only lasted about five or six seconds, but I cried out for him to stop.

He leaned over me again and said "Oh dear, I haven't even gotten started yet."

"I know," I replied panting a bit; "But I think that YOU think I'm more experienced than I am."

"Ahhhhh," he said, nodding. "Would you like to try some stings instead of whacks?"

"Sure," I said, hoping that they would be less intense. 

My hope was fruitless. When the whip hit me the first time, it seared the skin on my left buttock, and made me gasp, "STOP!" It felt like a branding iron was burning my skin, and I moved my hips, hoping he would touch it, smooth it out – but he made no move to do so. 

Instead, he leaned down, looked at me and said, "I think I'm done playing for now," and kissed the top of my head.

A bit shocked, all I could offer in return was a mumbled, "Ok," although I think I may have also thanked him. 

I felt ashamed. I felt rejected. I felt that whatever I had done, it was the wrong thing, and assumed at that point, that I just was not cut out for this thing that I'd so hoped would help. Rather than feeling empowered, I struggled against my mental bonds far more than those that held me to the sawhorse.

And what Daniel didn't know – couldn't know – was that all those years ago, nearly 20 years now, another man - the man who had raped me, had also kissed me on the top of my head and told me he had to leave.

The very thing I was seeking to re-write had somehow happened again. 

(to be continued...)

Rewriting History Ch. 02



The next day, Ben and I ran into Daniel, holding hands with a woman with soft blue eyes and blonde curls that framed her face.

I said hello, so did Daniel. As he went to the ATM, the blonde and I introduced ourselves. Her name was Tasha.

"So," I asked, "How do you know Daniel?"

"I'm his wife," she said.

I tilted my head in query – looking much (I'm sure) like a puppy who's heard a new sound. After all, the day before, I'd met another woman, named Nia, who had spent much time with Daniel, and had assumed that she was his wife.

Tasha laughed and said, "Well, I'm the 'primary' wife," as she winked at me.

I broke into a smile of understanding – 'Ahhhh, polyamory,' I thought.

"Yes," she continued, as if reading my mind and answering the unspoken questions. "Nia is Daniel's 'Sub' and she lives with us. Nia has a girlfriend, Micah, who does not live with us, and I have a lover, Brian, who also does not live with us."

As I stared at her, a bit open-mouthed, I sarcastically replied, "Can I get a flow chart later?"

She threw her head back and laughed, telling me that she was often mistaken for Daniel's girlfriend, rather than his wife. 

When Daniel returned, I relayed the story to him as he grinned. 

And, being honest to a fault (as I often am), I explained to Daniel all of the feelings I'd felt when he walked away from me; the sense of having done something wrong.

His surprisingly tender expression caught me off guard, as he said, "Oh, no, dear. Nia had just gotten off the cross, and I needed to give her some attention. You didn't do anything wrong."

I'm fairly sure my relief was written all over my face as I smiled at him.

We chatted for a few minutes, as I tried to explain that the experience was something I was interested in, but didn't know how to go about finding what I wanted.

"Well," he said, both thoughtfully and a bit mischievously, "If you'd like, we could try again tonight. Perhaps starting a bit more slowly, just using hands and no tools to start. Would you like that?"

I admit, I was surprised. "Really?" I asked him.

He smiled and nodded.

My reply was a breathy "Yes, I would like that very much."

I introduced my lover, Ben to Tasha, and made plans to see them that night at dinner and the ball afterward. My panties were damp and remained so the rest of the day – purely from anticipation. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That evening, I shaved every part of myself, took extra care with my makeup, and dressed myself in a black velvet evening gown, which exposed more than a fair amount of cleavage, four-inch-heeled black patent leather shoes, a black bra with see-through black panties, and a gold silk velvet pashmina. After all, it was my birthday, and I wanted to look my very best.

Seduction is both hard work and an art form - don't let anyone tell you differently.

We went to an uneventful dinner. It was nice, nothing too adventurous – bland hotel dinner food meant to ensure that anyone with a heart condition didn't consume too much sodium (or flavor for that matter). 

After dinner, Ben and I decided to retire to our room for a while to sip cocktails there, rather than spending so much money at the cash bar. We were both feeling a bit disappointed in the environment. Here we were, surrounded by beautifully perverse people, and it was the worst kind of meat market. It was impossible to make a human connection with anyone, as they were always looking past you for another prospect. Add to that my discomfort in being in large crowds of people. Whether for conversation or sex, it made for a disconcerting experience.

"Well, perhaps we should go down to the ball?" I asked. "After all, we did pay for this, and we might as well see what it's like."

He agreed, and I smiled at him. "Not to mention that it's my birthday, and I look fabulous," I laughed.

"Yes you do," he grinned as I looked him up and down. He'd always looked terribly charming in a suit, and it had been a while since we'd had an occasion to dress up and go out together.

"Mmmmm," I looked up at him and hummed. "Seeing you in a suit makes me want to taste you right now."

Ben's eyebrows shot upward. "Is that so?" he asked as he walked toward me. "Well then, since it is your birthday, I'm happy to give you anything you want." 

Needless to say – we were a few minutes late to the party.

When we got to the door of the ballroom, Nia was walking out toward us, dressed to the nines, as they say. "You look beautiful!" I told her.

She smiled and thanked me, returned the compliment, and told me where she, Daniel & Micah were sitting.

This, of course, reminded me of my conversation with Daniel earlier in the day. Honestly, since we hadn't seen them since that morning, I'd figured that he'd forgotten about it. I kept my expectations low.

Ben and I walked into the ballroom and found them easily – believe me when I tell you that a bundle of energy, the like of which this group of lovers created, wasn't easily missed.

I walked up and said hello to Tasha and Micah. Daniel was off being social and helping the staff to keep things organized. Nia rejoined the group a few minutes later, and I talked, flirted with and kissed her several times. Chemistry happens.

Being a rather energetically sensitive person, I could tell that Micah was uncomfortable for some reason; but I didn't know why. I mentioned this to Nia, and explained to her that I had no desire to cause any difficulty in her relationships. 

"Yes, Micah is feeling a little jealous, but that is not your concern," Nia replied. "We have an understanding, and she needs to deal with her emotions – they're not for you to worry about."

Point taken, I settled back into conversation and relaxed.

The next hour or so is a series of lovely, hazy memories for me. We all sat and talked about many things – spiritual beliefs, what we did for a living, how long everyone had been together, and many other topics, which broke off into mini-discussions amongst individual members of the group. Kissing Nia's mouth; seeing Ben kiss her with his hands in Micah's hair; undercurrents of hunger in every contact. There was flirtation, kissing, and touching in the way people do when they're new to one another....with anticipation, fear, and delight at finding acceptance of the caresses.

Tasha looked a little pained, and said that she was feeling a little tired. I offered to give her a little 'energy boost'. She accepted, and I put my hands on her shoulders, doing a bit of energy work and drawing energy and excitement from the air around me. 

Within minutes, she gasped "Whoa, wow!" and laughed. 

"Feeling a little better?" I asked. 

"Yes, thanks," she said and smiled.

Feeling giving, I looked to Nia, who had said earlier in the day that her neck was bothering her. Walking to her, I offered to do a little therapeutic massage work. And yes, I know what you're thinking.... 'uh huh, a massage,' but seeing as it's what I do for a living, it truly was an offer of care. There are moments when I become physically uncomfortable if someone I'm near is in pain – chalk it up to empathy – it comes in handy when working.

I closed my eyes and began working. I prefer to work with my eyes shut, as it allows me to concentrate on feeling the needs of the tissue and the changes as they are happening, rather than relying on sight. 

Somewhere during the process, I dropped into a near trance-like state. This wasn't uncommon for me as a general rule – but more surprising considering that we were in a dark ballroom with 400 people and music playing at extremely high volume.

When I came out of it, I kissed Nia on the top of her head, and then her neck, asking her if she felt alright. 

"Mmmmmm, yes, good," was her reply. 

I smiled widely. It always makes me feel good to know I've helped.

Suddenly, I was full of energy and needed to MOVE. A good song came on, and I asked Tasha if she wanted to dance. She nodded and we wiggled our way through the crowd to the dance floor. 

Lost in the music, I moved any way that felt good. I pressed my body against Tasha's, touching her skin, putting my hands in her hair, twirling around and dancing with another woman I'd met the previous evening. It was delicious. At one point, I looked up and saw Ben watching me from the edge of the dance floor, with a salacious grin on his face. This only spurred me on, and I danced until my mouth was dry.

I told Tasha that I needed to get some water and sit for a while. When I walked back to the table, I went over to Nia and hugged her. 

"I'm just so pumped up....and horny," I told her, laughing.

She grinned and said, "By the way, did I tell you that I'm a worshipper of Aphrodite?"

"Um, no, you didn't," I said.

"Well, I have a tendency to draw on the energy of those around me, so I felt everything you did while you were out there," Nia said, with a sweet, but wicked glint in her eyes. "Ohhhh dear," I said, smiling. "No wonder!"

I kissed her mouth, and she kissed me back, softly – light flicks of her tongue against my lips and mouth. I wrapped myself in the energy of it, enjoying the feel of her. When she slid her hand between my legs, I widened my stance to allow her to touch me more easily. 

"Are you wet?" she asked.

I blushed and caught my breath as she touched me.

"Ohhh, yes you are," she chuckled. 

"Does she get as wet as Micah?" I heard Daniel ask from behind me. 

"Yes, Sir, she does," said Nia. "Maybe more."

Feeling a little weak in the knees, I kissed Nia and Ben, and excused myself for a few minutes to get some air. When I came back, I sat down and had some water. 

Ben was crouched down next to Nia's chair, talking with her and flirting with his eyes, words, and hands. She and I exchanged glances and kissed one another again. She was very seductive, with beautifully clear green eyes. Ben watched us hungrily and she turned to kiss him as well. I sat back and watched them, loving the sight of it. 

Daniel appeared next to me and said something to Nia that made her laugh, while he demonstrated a silly dance to the disco-style boogie music the DJ was playing.

I smiled up at him, looked back at Ben, and suddenly, felt Daniel's hand in my hair, yanking my head back. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of it. 

He brushed his cheek against my face and whispered, "Open your eyes and look at me."

I complied.

"Good girl," he whispered and kissed my forehead.

I'm positive that I melted into my chair. Who would have thought that two words could give me such pleasure?

I smiled at him, and then, with his hand still in my hair, he pulled my head back and bit me – hard – under the chin. I gasped, my hand going to my neck afterward. I looked at him, shocked and puzzled. 

"It's sort of an 'animal kingdom' thing," he explained. "It's a way of showing you who is the Dominant here."

I kept rubbing the tender spot where Daniel had bitten me, as he smoothed my hair and crouched down next to my chair. We talked for a few minutes about the party, and he complimented my dress. When he slid his hand under the fabric, I sighed.

"What's this?" he asked in surprise.

"Panties?" I laughed.

"NEVER wear panties to a party!" he stated loudly and with a rather evil grin. "Why are you wearing panties?"

"It's how I was raised," I said. "I'm wearing an evening gown, so I wore panties."

He shook his head and said, "Nia, how many outfits are you allowed to wear with panties?"

"Two skirts," she said, looking at me. "Otherwise, never."

I got the picture. Here was a true 24/7 Dom/sub relationship. She wore what he told her, did what he asked of her, and nothing less. Although this wasn't my desire, I had to admit that I was impressed.

Daniel turned back to me, pulled my hair back again, and began stroking my clit through my panties. They were nearly soaked by now.

I felt my orgasm building, and my heartbeat quickened. Right before my climax, he stopped. I let out a desperate moan, looked at Daniel and said, "Ohhh, you're so mean!"

He laughed and said, "Well, I don't want to finish off everything right here."

I gave him my best seductive look and told him, "I don't know about the women you usually play with, but I can come 20 or more times a night."

"Really," he asked, his eyes lighting up.

I nodded, looking directly into his eyes. 

"Well, in that case....." he trailed off, as I felt his fingers on my clit again.

Within a minute, I came, moaning loudly and nearly slid off the chair, my knee going in between Nia's legs, catching both her and Ben's attention.

When I caught my breath, Nia was trailing her long, sharp nails along my thigh, and both she and Ben were looking at me.

"Oh, um, I'm so sorry," I said to Nia and sat myself up into my chair. 

Nia smiled broadly at me, her eyes flicking toward Daniel.

"Oh my god, I'm so embarrassed," I laughed, and covered my face with my hands.

Daniel pulled them away from my face and looked me in the eyes, shaking his head. 

"Don't be," he said. "Why would you be embarrassed?"

"I just came in a room of hundreds of people!" I laughed nervously, not even looking him in the eye.

He took my chin in his hand and told me to look at him. I did.

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You were beautiful," he said. 

My embarrassment floated away, replaced by the pleasure of his words.

"How long until midnight?" asked Ben.

"Just a few minutes," said Daniel. "We need to get going so we can change."

The three women and I exchanged hugs and 'see you soon's' with one another.

As Daniel gathered Tasha, Nia and Micah around him to leave, Ben came over and kissed me.

"Did you enjoy that?" he chuckled.

"Oh yes," I said. "More than I thought I would."

"Good," he said. "Now let's go upstairs and change clothes."

(to be continued......)