Despite being in the BDSM community and having a collar for years, I haven’t done a lot of things and I’m still exploring. So far everything I’ve tried, I have loved.
My first spanking, first rope, first wax, first bootblack, first needles, all fond memories. The first time I wore my tail and was petted, and was accepted by my friends as not weird, but unique remains a highlight.
I began to wonder if I’d find something I don’t like. I had canes on my hard limit list until I asked for an experience with canes that doesn’t involve white pain. It was a slow process to understand that I’m not playing with needles or whips, I’m playing with partners. I love canes now. And do not have toys on my hard limit list anymore so much as people on my hard limit list.
I have had all sorts of experiences over the years. I remember the first time I said RED. My former Sir’s real name sounds remarkably like my safeword when screamed into a pillow. After my third RED, he heard me and immediately stopped. I remember the first free-for-all, the first time I tried electricity. Not every experience was a great one, but every one was a learning experience and something I’d probably do again with the right person.
Let me introduce fire to the mix. I love fire. It calms me. It mesmerizes me. It comforts and warms me. If you are ever at a loss for a gift for me, buy me a candle. I especially like the candles that have wooden wicks. As much as I don’t like camping in the woods because of bugs and sleeping on the ground, I love a good campfire. I thought because of this reason I’d automatically love fire play.
My first fire experience, I had with my former girl H. It was brief and both of us were green. The fear I tasted in my mouth clouded everything. Fire was supposed to be tabled for a while and it ended up being one of those things that you intend to do and just don’t get around to. I had the opportunity for fire again a few years after that. Great Top, great atmosphere. But it was in a room full of people and among those people was someone whom violated my consent. It tainted everything. For a bit I blamed fire along with the person.
Eventually I decided to give fire it’s fair chance. I’d already decided on The Who, and I learned to never force a scene. It will happen when it’s supposed to happen. The person I trusted to top me with fire leaned down in my ear and suggested play. I was suddenly plagued with uncertainty. I did not trust my instincts. Thankfully I have amazing friends that I trust more than I trust myself in these instances.
I said “Could you please go away so I can talk about you?” Sometimes I really surprise myself by how tactless I can be but he chuckled and gave me space. I ended up negotiating my scene with my friend and her going to him by third party. I realize that’s not the way you do things and I don’t know why I didn’t speak up. But with this and that and the watchful eye of my dear friend I felt the first flame race along my skin.
I don’t like fire.