He told me to stand. I rose up on shaky legs, and stood upright. I hadn’t the courage to look Him in the eyes yet when He took my hand and told me to give Him a tour of my home. We walked around with me, naked as a jay bird, introducing each room, then back to the living room we went.
To be honest, here is where things started to get a little fuzzy. I remember what happened, but in bits and pieces with hazy parts in between, and trying to put things in sequential order from what happened first to what happened last is difficult. I’ll do my best to put them in the order I think they may have happened, but don’t quote me on it.
I remember being on the couch, sitting, with my legs open wide, bent at the knee, my feet on the edge of the couch, looking at His face through the ‘V’ they made. I don’t remember actually sitting down to get that way.
I remember Him placing a vibrator in my hand and telling me to use it, but not to cum until He told me to. I don’t remember where He got it from, or how He managed to get me to do another thing I’d never done before, getting over being too shy to masturbate for someone, while they were watching, but I do remember doing so, over and over again.
I remember watching Him leave the room to go out to His car and get His things. I don’t remember how the dining room table got turned into a nicely covered play-station or seeing Him come back inside. He was just simply there again.
I remember at some point being face down over the table, and Him spanking my bare ass with first the flogger, then one well-placed swat with the cane (that one switch being enough for me to decide that I have a very healthy sized terror of that particular implement, thank you very much). I don’t remember if that was before, or after, my standard dining room table got converted into a padded spanking bench.
I remember standing before Him, arms outstretched, so that He could tie a beautiful purple rope around my body, and I remember seeing it in the mirror when it was done, and then He took pictures of me in it. I don’t remember the time it actually took for him to tie it.
I remember getting up on the table, and Him putting my legs into position, grasping my knee and beginning to wind the rope around it into the first knot. I don’t remember feeling every knot as they were tied, only the occasional snaking of the rope against my skin.
I remember the blindfold going on, and then Him tucking earphones into my ears. I remember music blaring into them, and then curiosity replacing fear. I don’t remember what He started with after that, whether it was the flogger or the suction things or which order whatever He did to me was done in.
I remember my nipples being on fire, then not existing at all, then suddenly being so incredibly sensitive it felt as though each one had spontaneously decided to turn itself into an additional clit and refused to be relocated into the right place. Strangely enough, I don’t remember that same experience happening where my true clit is actually located, even though photographic evidence proved He put the same device on all three places.
I remember feeling Him place a device between my feet, and then feeling it come alive, thrusting in and out of my body like a piston in some as yet uncreated, science fiction type, machine engine, designed to propel people through space at umpteen miles per hour. I don’t remember how long that lasted, but I can say it was a seriously intense fucking, and yes, I meant to use that word expressly.
I remember small slaps on my body, jolts of pain that broke through the fog I was in, and momentarily caused me to focus all the cells of my body on that particular spot at that exact second. I don’t remember how many of them there were, or how many times I was brought out of the haze of pleasure, only to slip into it again.
I remember lying on my my bed, my skin against His, but I don’t remember getting off the table.
I remember Him telling me to get on my knees and position myself over His head, I remember the instruction to use the vibrator again while in that position, and I remember after I came how He told me I had squirted and drenched Him. I don’t remember if that orgasm took seconds or hours to arrive, but I do remember it being so powerful that I actually saw little flashes of bursting lights while my eyes were closed. And I do remember Him telling me to do it again.
When I say I don’t remember, it’s not as though there are parts of my memory that blacked out. I was stone cold sober. It was more like watching a movie at a drive in theater through a windshield covered in rain. I do remember, but not in high def. It’s as though, in intervals, someone switched the HDTV with an old set top reception one, and then when I wasn’t looking, they switched them back again.
Time did some crazy things to me that night. I do remember a few times when He would say to me, “Do you realize that….amount of time has passed since I did….?” Nope, can’t say that I did. I was incredulous to learn that what I’d thought had only taken moments, or minutes, had actually been hours upon hours.
I remember watching Him as He cleaned up the mess in the dining room and put His toys away. I don’t remember what, if anything, was said as He left. I don’t remember setting my alarm or putting myself to bed, or locking the door for that matter.
He gave me many experiences that night that were Firsts for me, and I know without a doubt that those memories are indelibly seared into my mind and will remain, for as long as I still have the ability to remember.