Culture Shock

So I just spent... I don't even know how long reading Sir Nathan's Culture Shock on Literotica.

Oh. My. Stars.

Is there any actual sex? No. Which he warns about at the beginning of the story. But holy crap. One of the hottest things I've ever read.  For anyone with BDSM fantasies or interests I feel like it's a must-read. Reading it brought up some of my own memories, not just of my own burgeoning interest in BDSM but also because of the fact that there was no sex in the story.

When I first started reading Lit stories and began finding myself reading more and more BDSM stories, I was just like the main character in Culture Shock.  Wildly curious. Incredibly turned on.  And feeling like someone had hit all my buttons - this was what I wanted. Craved. Needed. Had no idea how to get.

I was in an emotionally abusive relationship at the time.  In some ways it wasn't his fault - and I know how fucked up that sounds but it's true. Neither of us knew how to handle being together, we were high school sweethearts and by the time we got to college we were all wrong for each other and neither of us wanted to give up.  When I started expressing an interest in the BDSM stuff he tried... but it just ended up being an empty practice. Left me yearning for more.

Enter Mike. The moment I saw him, the very first thing that I thought was "Holy crap I want to tie him up... or have him tie me down..."  Instant chemical connection.  I name a lot of my dominant story characters Mike. Which is kind of funny because it turned out that Mike was actually submissive.  But I didn't know that then. I just knew that he looked at me and I felt like he saw inside me to that need. The day I met him I did one of the bravest things I've ever done: I walked up to him and asked to touch his hair.  Not my usual style. I'm excessively shy when meeting new people unless I'm surrounded by a bunch of other people that I'm friends with.

Eventually he and I became good friends. He took care of me like a good Dom would in many ways. Checked up on me, held me when I cried, supported me, and he was a big part of the reason I was finally able to get out of my relationship gone wrong. 

We never had sex. Or even kissed. We slept together constantly. We did go skinny-dipping once - my story River Walkers is about that all the way up until the characters actually start getting it on. That was pure fantasy on my part. I loved cuddling up to him in his bed. I trusted him implicitly.

The most sexually arousing experience of my life that didn't end in anyone getting an orgasm was with Mike. He and I would go to a goth dance club a lot.  Then one night he asked me if I wanted to go to a BDSM club. I said yes, of course. I was dying to see it, even from the fringes.  He picked out my outfit to wear. Very conservative.  Black one shoulder shirt made out of lace, the front of it had material underneath the lace, the back did not.  Short black skirt. Black fishnets and boots. 

The club was dark. Sexy. Filled with people doing things I'd only read about.  There were nooks along the wall where people were tied or chained up.  Being spanked. Whipped. Flogged. I huddled against Mike, feeling completely out of my element, terrified and incredibly horny.  He stuck by my side all night - except for 10 minutes which I'll get to.  Mostly I just watched. Several people came up to try to talk to me and I practically hid in him. A couple of them complimented him on me. Which just turned me on even more.

Then Mike told me that he wanted to be whipped.  Would I be okay if he left my side so he could go do that? I said sure. Trying to be Miss Independent.  Well he took off his shirt and gave me his jacket, and I held them while he got up on a platform in the middle of the club with one of the Doms - who was tall, older, muscular and sexy as hell and whose name I can't remember - had him lean forward against a table and then began whipping him.  I started off watching from the side, but then I moved around and watched Mike's face. The look of lust and excitement and fulfillment was exactly what I craved.

I wanted to jump him so bad, but mostly I wanted him to be doing that to me.

Afterwards he put his shirt back on. Asked if there was anything I wanted to do.  I couldn't make myself tell him that I wanted what he had just done. But there was something else I was curious about. I pointed to a corner where a girl was tied up and being worked over with an electric wand. I have this awful vice known as overwhelming curiosity. I wanted to know what it felt like. So Mike took my hand and led me over, told the Dom that I was curious about the wand. He was very kind, smiled at me reassuringly and said that he would let me feel it on low.

Mike held my left hand as the Dom touched the wand to my right... it felt tingly and hot and dangerous. He moved it up my arm.  I was panting, half with excitement and half with fear and I started squirming a little.  Mike reached up to the nape of my neck, slid his fingers through my hair and took a handful, and then he pulled my head back as the wand ran over my collarbone. I nearly fell apart just from that.

Afterwards he held me.

I think I had a tendency to bring out Mike's dominant side, but not enough that we ever moved past being friends. I did consider him an intimate.  And it rather reminds me how much I miss him.

Anyway. The point to all this rambling is, those are the memories that Culture Shock brought up for me. It's a fantastic piece. Sometimes the build up can be just as satisfying as the actual event.

Yummy.