I Was Flogged In a BDSM Dungeon

I Was Flogged In a BDSM Dungeon

by Kayla Lords, Kinkly.com

Naked except for my purple lace thong, leather cuffs around my ankles and wrists, a collar around my neck, and the smooth, cool feeling of the wood pressed into my skin, I wondered for a second how I went from reading kinky stories online to being flogged by my Dominant in a BDSM dungeon. Was it wrong to be so turned on that my body trembled and nervous enough that my knees shook?

Agreeing to Attend the Dungeon

The idea of being strapped to a St. Andrews Cross and flogged on the floor of a local BDSM dungeon wasn’t decided on a whim. No one woke up one morning and said, “Let’s get freaky and kinky today!” No, this was something my Dominant, who I call “Daddy,” had wanted to do with me from the moment he joined the local BDSM club, but he knew it would take time for me to be ready.

I entered the Dominance and submission (D/s) part of the BDSM spectrum from reading online sex blogs and secretly perving on Tumblr (a treasure trove of porn and erotic imagery). I met my Dominant through my own personal sex blog. We went from online friends to a long distance relationship over the course of several months. By the time I met him, I had no doubt that I was a submissive woman who wanted a Dominant partner. He was several years into the lifestyle and a few minutes out of a failed relationship. We met many times in my town and in his town. Every meeting was hot, kinky, and filled with bondage, domination, sadism, and masochism.

He introduced the idea of attending the dungeon. On one hand, I jumped on the idea. It was the fulfillment of many erotica-reading-induced fantasies. On the other hand, I was scared to death. Do kinky people look different than regular or “vanilla” people? I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know if I’d ever met a fellow kinkster. Very few walk around advertising their kinks and fetishes. We’ve probably all met each other without knowing it. I was painfully curious. I trust my Dominant more than anyone else on the planet. I had to attend. I needed to play…whatever that might look like.

Getting into the Club

Local BDSM clubs/dungeons come in a variety of forms. Some are private homes. Some are public locations. All require some sort of vetting process in order to gain entrance. Regardless of the abusers who pose as kinksters in the BDSM lifestyle, responsible kinksters make sure everyone stays safe and that everyone’s privacy is protected.

Daddy was already a member of the club. He’d attended local munches (get togethers in public places like restaurants where kinksters socialize). He’d attended talks held at the club during daylight hours. Those talks are some of the few times that the club was open to anyone who knew of its location. He had an active profile on Fetlife (a social media website for kinksters of all stripes to socialize and learn). He was vetted and known by the local community.

I was able to attend as a non-member because he sponsored me, vouching that I was safe to the BDSM community. They took down information from my driver’s license and recorded my attendance. While I use my psuedonym “Kayla Lords” at the club, I had to be willing to sign and verify my real name in case of an emergency or criminal activity. (When I said they take safety seriously, I meant it.) The entrance fee was paid and we entered.

Upon arrival, a few things happened. Because I had a sponsor, I was asked if I wanted to go ahead and join the club for a nominal fee. I chose not to join then because I didn’t know when I would return. I’m a proud member now. The next thing that happened is that kind kinksters who worked for the club as monitors (to keep everyone safe during kink scenes and playtime) showed me around and took me on the full tour.

This dungeon isn’t a dark, underground basement – although in some places it may be. It’s warehouse space in an industrial part of town. It is very nondescript looking with a simple sign over the door. The main floor of the dungeon is on the ground floor with a second, more private space in an upstairs loft. The walls and furniture are black and red and loud music is constantly thumping through the speakers.

Taking It All In

After the grand tour and the warm welcome (kinky people are some of the nicest people I’ve ever met), Daddy and I sat at a table in the “social area,” which was adjacent to the main floor. Looking up and to my left, I could just see inside the upstairs loft. Looking straight ahead, I had a perfect view of the main floor.

In the center of the floor was what looked like a swing-set minus the actual swings. I soon learned it was used for rope suspension. To my right, closest to the seating area, was a spanking bench. To my left was a table. That night it was used in fire play, which was a new concept for me. In the far right corner was a black St. Andrews Cross. It was very intimidating in its simplicity. An “X” with hooks on all four points. I was to know it intimately before the evening was over.

That night, I watched a beautiful blonde submissive wrapped in rope and suspended on the main floor. Her Dominant, who covered her in kisses and pinches spun her around from her suspended state. She was completely nude and in her bound state, her body was completely exposed to him.

SMACK!

His hand connected with her pussy on the completion of each revolution. Her hair hung like a golden curtain. I could have been turned on by her nudity or her simple beauty. But it was the look of peace and devotion on her face that warmed my entire body.

We watched female Dommes spank male submissives. We watched submissives of both genders crawl on their knees behind their Dominants. We watched while we waited for the private play area upstairs to be free to use.

Strapped to the Cross

Hours passed. The activity on the main floor boggled my mind. People of all sizes, shapes, and colors walked around nude or nearly so. Even those I wouldn’t normally find aesthetically beautiful were gorgeous in my eyes. Their fearlessness in baring their bodies and their desires changed me that night. I wanted to be as free as they appeared.

Kinky activities I’d only read about online played out in front of my eyes. I squirmed and shifted in my chair simultaneously turned on and impatient. My eyes drifted to the loft. One Dominant had a line of beautiful, nude women waiting to be flogged and spanked by him. I was even sent upstairs to ask when the area might be free. No one knew.

Finally, I found my courage.

“I wouldn’t mind playing on the main floor, Daddy.” I could have swallowed my tongue once I said it. Was I really prepared for what I was asking for?

Moments later, I found myself standing in front of the black St. Andrews Cross with my back to the rest of the room. I pulled my dress off and stood only in a lacy purple thong. My collar had been placed around my neck moments after we arrived. Now, the cuffs were ceremoniously wrapped around each wrist and ankle.

I have D-rings on each cuff, which can be hooked to nearly anything. With a quick comforting word and a stroke of my hair, I was attached to each point of the cross. My breasts pressed into the smooth wood. I shivered from the coolness of the air, from anticipation, and from sheer nerves.

“Are you ready, Babygirl?”

I nodded. He began.

From his bare hand across my ass to the ping pong paddle repurposed for spankings (also known as a pervertible), he warmed my body up with firm, slow strikes. I forgot the audience. I forgot the other kinksters playing their own games. I focused on his hands and my reaction. Within a few moments, my mind released its grip on the world around me. I slipped into subspace (a wonderful world of endorphins, adrenaline, and zero thoughts).

Over time, he amped up the strikes and added his floggers. My favorite flogger is large and has black and white suede strands. He can make it thud against my body, something I feel deep down, or he can make it sting, which causes me to dance on my toes and squeal.

Periodically, he would stop and run his hands over my body. His hand would grip my hair as he leaned in close to whisper, “You doing OK, Babygirl?” I was doing more than OK. I was flying high and feeling more connected to him than ever before.

Later, after he wrapped me in a warm, soft blanket and I came down from the natural high, I was surprised at how little I cared about being watched. The moment, although public, became private as we ignored the world around us and reveled in each other: his Dominance and my submission. It was not the last time I was flogged in a BDSM dungeon, but it was the most life-changing moment I’ve had yet as a kinkster.

You can read more articles by Kayla Lords at Kinkly.com

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