Impulse, Part Four


The circle went around once more, drawing cards and taking dares. By the time it was my turn again, more people from the party had joined in. And while I recognised some familiar faces, the group was still predominantly strangers.

Still, I was feeling a lot braver than when I had arrived, spurred on by my own nerve in letting half the room spank me and willingness of the others in the group. So, I drew another one of the cards that prompted me to bottom, and felt myself immediately blushing as I looked it over.

“What’s it say?” the host asked.

I tried to say it, but I felt myself stammering. I passed it over to a friend nearby, and she read it aloud. Ever since I have gotten in touch with some of the more specific and risky things I’m into, I’ve felt like I’ve been driving with the parking break on whenever I thought of them. It’s beyond trepidation; it’s more the fear that others will recognise how much I enjoy it and think that I should be more reluctant, more afraid. Even in an environment where people emphasise consent so heavily. That. And, well, I’m shy.

So shy I’ve been having trouble writing it explicitly here.

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” the host said. “You can absolutely pass.”

I’ve been fairly honest on this blog about the fact that I like to be overwhelmed. And the scenario of being blindfolded at a party and left for everyone to manhandle has been one that I’ve referenced time and time again. But I’ve never been brave enough to do it, let alone attempt to organise it, and now I had the opportunity. Among strangers and friends, with Pup nearby, I could do it.

“No, I, um, actually.” I felt myself smiling. “I really, really want to.”


Impulse, Part Three

The instructions on the card that I picked read that I was to walk around the circle and ask everyone to slap my ass. Pretty please.

I feinted towards starting with Pup, who was sitting to my right, before turning and heading to the left. I turned and lifted my skirt, asking each participant to spank me. Even though I was at a sex party, I get into my head in this silly way where I think that if I show too much enthusiasm, people will think I’m strange. Yes, at a sex party. So I was keeping it kind of playful and reluctant, not wanting to show my hand.

When I reached the host of the party, I didn’t get the slap I expected. Instead, he folded his arms and smirked. “I don’t think you want it bad enough.” 

I felt a blush burn over my cheeks. I’d been friends with the host of this party since I got into the local kink scene. We met at the very first play party I went to, and he’s a profoundly sweet and kind person. Pup and I were at his wedding. He’s also 90% a sub. But he’s got this teensy, tiny little toppy streak that certain subs seem to have when they manage to channel all the cruelty and humiliation they crave and are used to receiving onto someone else.

He placed his hands on my hips and pulled me a bit closer. Even though he was sitting on the couch, I still felt small next to him. “Try again,” he said.

“Would you please slap my ass?” I scoffed and asked again. “Pretty please?” He nodded for me to keep going and I groaned. A few people in the circle were laughing. “Please, I really, really want you to spank me. I’d be so glad if you did.”

He delivered a sharp smack and sent me off around the circle. By the time I reached Pup, my rear was stinging. Azure had given me something on the gentler side, though I doubt that was the sole reason why Pup had doubled his efforts and hit me so hard that I visibly winced when I finally got to sit back down.

“Poor baby,” Pup teased. “But good thing I went last. Or people would’ve seen how hard they could have hit you.”


Impulse, Part Two

The party was packed. And while there were some faces I had seen before, the vast majority of the people there were more or less strangers. Fortunately, since the party was held in the hosts’ home, the vibe was mostly pretty chill. There were some people hanging out and talking, as well as some very light play going on. 

But the vast majority of the people at the party were engaged in a few games set up. With so many people there, I felt more comfortable getting involved than I would if it were a smaller group. Wanting to be brave, I urged Pup to go over to where Azure already was and take part in her activity, which was more or less a game of strip Jenga. 

I walked into another area on my own, where a group of people maybe ten in size was playing a game with a few sets of cards. The game had been made by one of the guests, and the cards ranged from mild suggestions, the yellow cards, through adventurous, top, bottom, and all the way up to the dares, the pink cards. “So, just straight up,” a guy who I’d seen at one of these parties before explained when I sat down to join them, “those cards are basically the fucking cards. Like they’re just legit sex.”

“Good to know,” I replied, and stuck to picking cards in the milder category. It had been a long time since I had been to one of these parties, and I wasn’t feeling entirely comfortable with such a new group. The tone itself was still pretty mild anyway, and even when people took more daring cards, they avoided to pink ones altogether.

By the time Pup and Azure came over to join in our game, I’d kissed a very cute girl and allowed someone to give me a massage. But wanting to be brave now that Pup was there, I reached for the cards labelled “bottom” and drew the top one. 


Impulse, Part One

A few Fridays ago, Pup and I were invited by a couple we’re pretty good friends with to a sex/play party held a little ways from our place. I hadn’t been to one of these in quite a long while, and the entire week leading up it I was incredibly nervous at the prospect of going. 

The day of the party, my jitters peaked and everything seemed to be going wrong. A meeting I was supposed to have that day ran over by an hour and a half, so I was running severely late. While getting ready, I managed to break a light in our bathroom. Somehow, Pup and I had accidentally assumed we’d both be wearing this one flannel that’s been sitting around our closet. 

Yeah, a flannel. The theme of the party was camping/the woods. He was going as a lumberjack, so the flannel worked best for him. I think honestly my outfit looked more like some kind of 90s grunge kid from Seattle. Lace bralette with a different oversized flannel opened up on top, a short skirt, thigh-high socks and knee high boots. But, whatever, as we both remarked, “we’re probably going to be wearing this crap for all of ten minutes.”

Even though I looked good, I was anxious and a little lazy and exhausted by the day. “You’re going to have a partner there,” I lamented to Pup, referring to Azure, a girl he’s been seeing since the spring. I like her, though she’s pretty quiet and has a really unbearable husband (MORE ON THAT LATER) that I really didn’t want to end up cornered by at this party, as he had done in the past. “I’m worried I’m going to be stuck awkwardly in the corner and you’re going to have to feel bad and keep me company.”

We’d invited Leo, but he had family visiting. Though I had some friends who would be there, I was genuinely worried that I would be too shy or awkward or nervous to really do anything with anyone.

Once we’d gotten ready and I felt brave enough to go, we realized we wouldn’t actually be all that late. So we hopped in the car and proceeded to get stuck in an obscene amount of traffic, doubling the amount of time the trip should have taken. By the time we got there, we were so annoyed about some pretty terrible people on the road that I almost considered asking if we could just go home.

But I’m really glad I didn’t.