Softly, Softly

An instalment of the Sarah Saga


It felt like cheating; it was the clip-on tie of lingerie. However, Sarah justified her choice to herself by reasoning that these would be the easiest to get into in a hurry, and that no one else would see.  She had no intention of playing, and if she somehow wound up doing so, the details of her underwear would likely be the least of her concerns.


Sarah fingered the stocking-and-garter set, the all-in-one solution to her “fetish wear” needs.  She still bristled at the concept, wrestling her mind away from the panic-place that threatened to shake her resolve to attend her first night at The Club.  


It had been shaken many times before. She’d known about The Club before she had even settled here. Dresden had mentioned it first, gently prompting her to look into it shortly after she’d told him about her impending move.  She did look into it, but nothing more.   


Even the website was frightening- too much rope, too many scantily clad women, too many scary words about safewords and scenes and backswing and so many things that didn’t speak to Sarah’s idea of spanking. No, this was not the place for her.


But then Mark had hinted as well. Never more than a passing suggestion, perhaps he knew that she was not yet ready.


That was nearly a year ago.  A lot had happened in that year.  The shock and grief after Mark had vanished had slowly subsided, replaced by a desire to try to find that sort of relationship again. To look again, with a touch more wisdom and experience.


That feeling had led her to the munches- pure hell for an introvert, and an experience that had yet to become more fun than frightening, and yet she managed to convince herself to keep going, that this was the right step.


The munches had led to a Fetlife profile, the step that she had so long resided, had not yet been convinced was right for her, but a step she had nonetheless taken. No harm in trying


The profile had led her to Stephen.  That made it all worthwhile.  After going nearly a full year unspanked, her sessions with him, while intense and not entirely pleasurable, were a breath of fresh air, were reassurance that she was heading in the right direction.  If not the spankings, his phone calls, the quick check-in chats, confirmed that much.


And Stephen had led her to The Club.


Not directly- he wouldn’t even be there her first night, but she had taken his encouragement to attend to heart. After all, each mention of The Club also came with assurance that she would be under no pressure to play, that the night could be spent quite happily chatting and watching and just being there. She had friends to chat to now, she assured herself.  After a few months of munches, she had finally started remembering more than a few names, and had started to build a few solid friendships.  Tina would be there, she assured herself, thinking back to the young woman who had welcomed her to her first munch, and greeted her with equal enthusiasm each time she came back.


Tina was a lifeline for tonight, Sarah told herself, a peer who knew how these things worked, who could help her enjoy the evening as a spectator, as she had no intention of joining in more directly.


Hence the horrid lingerie.  Sarah had struggled to think up an outfit that would satisfy the “fetish wear” dress code and not feel completely ridiculous.  She’d eventually given up on that notion- costumes were not really her thing, even the school uniform she’d worn with Stephen and Mark had felt a bit silly. . . and a bit too right.   She had only briefly debated wearing the uniform before dismissing the idea.  It was too hot. Too modest. And too revealing of her approach to spanking.


Sarah had instead opted for a generic-looking fishnetty affair: a plain vanilla, but short, vanilla black dress that she accessorised with a bit of artfully draped chain, along with fishnet gloves, and a lacy-black mask she’d managed to quickly purchase on a trip to Venice while her travelling companions were queueing for gelato across the street.


And the horrid fishnet stockings and belt combo thingy. They weren’t supposed to be pretty, Sarah reminded herself. These were to be her last defense- a personal reminder that she was not to engage in anything that involved the lifting of her skirt.


In fact, she decided, this was a very good strategy indeed. Playing would be a bad idea, though it might not seem as such when she was under the power of a dominant who made the mistake of engaging her in conversation and thus engaging her submissive side, running the risk of shutting down her inhibitions.


A very good strategy. But it didn’t stop her from picking up a more grown-up pair of fishnet stockings, the proper kind that would require a proper suspender belt to wear- the suspender belt that had languished at the back of her wardrobe ever since that first spanking from Mark.  


And it didn’t stop her, as she got ready for her first night at The Club, from slipping into the new stockings instead, just in case.


They felt odd under her jeans as she walked down the street that evening to meet a few munch-friends for a quick drink before moving on to The Club.  Although she had been assured that it was perfectly acceptable to change once she arrived at The Club, her skills at fastening the suspenders were still very much lacking. She would doubtless feel silly enough that evening without treating her fellow patrons to a hopping-tripping display before she even truly entered.


Any awkwardness she felt was quickly forgotten when Tina stood up to great her, beaming a smile. “You made it! Excited for your first night?”


“I guess so,” Sarah replied, “still feels a bit surreal though.”  


“Oh, just wait,” Tina said with a wink.  “It’s marvelous. Any plans for play?”


Sarah blushed. “No, not yet.”


“Would you like to?”


Sarah blinked, slightly shocked.  It had taken weeks to arrange spankings with either Mark or Stephen, each encounter carefully choreographed, carefully staged.  The idea of moving from proposal to spanking within hours was foreign to her, but perhaps this was fitting. The Club was for public play, and while Sarah craved the intimacy and intensity of one-to-one spanking sessions, perhaps Tina’s casual approach was better suited for the environment.


“Sure, I guess,” Sarah replied.


“Fantastic! Looking forward to it. Would you mind playing early? It gets crowded later, and difficult to find space.”


“Sure,” Sarah replied again. In for a penny. . .Though as she sipped her pint, reminding herself to take it slowly lest her nerves compel her to drink too deeply (the point was to relax and chat, not to become drunk), she wondered that this might actually be for the best. She liked Tina, trusted her, felt immense gratitude to her for reaching out at her first few munches, but didn’t feel particularly submissive toward her- or any woman for that matter.  And playing early- it would get it out of the way.  She could say that she had played at The Club, had given it a try, and if it wasn’t her thing that would be that.


“Me too,” Sarah replied with a genuine smile.


All too soon, the drinks were finished and the small group gathered their many bags to move on to The Club. Sarah felt her heart race with excitement and terror as they approached.  She reminded herself to breathe, and tried to smile and laugh with her companions.   


As they entered The Club and began changing, Sarah was relieved at her foresight of wearing at least some of her costume already. As uncomfortable as it was, it would have been worse to strip completely in the euphemistically-titled “changing room,” which wasn’t a room at all but merely the section of corridor immediately adjacent to the entrance.


Before she knew it, she had changed, purchased a coke from the bar, followed Tina to the upper level, and was seated next to her, eyeing an imposing wooden frame while struggling to answer Tina’s questions.


“What are your limits?”  The question was simple, direct, predictable- something out a BDSM-101 textbook. And Sarah had no idea how to answer.


“Erm. . .I don’t really know,” she finally offered. “I’ve not played much before- only a few private spankings.”


“Ok,” replied Tina, not missing a beat.  “How do you feel about flogging?”


Sarah shifted uncomfortably.  “I don’t really know- never tried it before.”


“Would you like to?” Tina asked with a semi-wicked grin.  “We’ll take it slowly, just say ‘yellow’ if it’s a bit too much, ‘red’ if you’d like to stop.”


“Sounds good,” Sarah replied, excitement replacing the smallest portion of her nerves- but enough to return Tina’s smile.   


“Anywhere you don’t want me to hit?” Tina asked, as though ticking off items in a mental list.


“I’m not sure,” Sarah replied, begining to get frustrated with her lack of knowledge.   “I’ve only ever been hit on my bottom, and a bit on the hands.”


“Hands aren’t my thing- too easy to miss with flexible things.  We’ll stick with bottom. And how about shoulders?”


“Never been hit there,” Sarah replied, “but I’d like to try,” she continued, a few of her earlies fantasies of being hit on the back coming back to her in flashes.


“That should be enough to get us stated,” Tina stated to Sarah’s relief.  “I’ll check in with you every few minutes, and we’ll talk more later. Remember the safewords?” Tina stood and offered Sarah her hand.


Sarah nodded, rising to her feet, wobbling only slightly. She tried to tell herself it was the heels.


She followed Tina over the frame, and allowed herself to be draped over it.  Tina reached for the cuffs, “would you like to use these?”


Sarah nodded, having left her voice behind at the table.  Tina deftly fastened them to her wrists then stepped back.  “Ready?” she asked, and Sarah nodded again.


The noise of it startled her, a sharp thumping sounds that reverberated off the walls of the largely empty room. Sarah could see the noise had attracted the attention of the few patrons near the bar, who turned to watch the first show of the night. Sarah squeezed her eyes shut, not sure how she felt about the attention, but not willing to process the emotion at the moment.


Another, louder, thump and a vague stinging feeling accompanied  the next stroke.  Sarah smiled. The sensation was new, but vaguely familiar, and hinted of something she much missed. As Tina continued the flogging, the stinging ache grew just to the point that she began to squirm slightly- not that she was in any great discomfort, but it felt a natural reaction to the sitation.


“Are you ok?” Tina’s voice came from right behind her ear.  


“Yes,” Sarah replied.






“You got it,” came Tina’s reply, accompanied by something of a cackle.  


The next few strokes were indeed harder, louder, stingier, but still not difficult to bear.  


“Beg for it,” she heard Tina order from behind her.


Sarah paused. Beg? For a flogging? Sure, she knew some people liked that sort of thing, but had never given it much attention herself. She was more of the mindset that any begging durring a spanking should be pleas to end the punishment, not for it to begin or continue.


“Please?” she offered, sounding feeble.


“Try that again,” Tina teased, dangling the falls of her flogger to tickle Sarah’s neck.  Now Sara did plead.  


“Gyuagh! Stop that!” Sarah all but shouted.  Tina giggled, as did Sarah, taken by the silliness of the situation.  No complaints about the flogging, but the gentle feather-brush had provoked quite a reaction.


“Ah, so you’re ticklish, are you?”  Tina laughed, coming closer to trail her fingers along Sarah’s sides.


“Neeep!” Sarah wailed, bring her elbows in to protect her sides, slipping out of the cuffs before she’d realised what she had done.


Both Tina and Sarah dissolved into giggles which bled into hugs.


“Enough for now,” Tina said when they broke apart and got their breath back, “though that was fantastically fun- I hope you let me do that again.  Come sit down a while so we can recover.”


As they headed back to their table, Sarah heard a voice call out to her, “Wow, you took a lot!” Sarah turned to find a young man beaming at her, and blushed.  Though she was well aware that there were others watching her flogging, well aware that this was part of public play, she hadn’t given any thought to discussing her spankings with third parties before.  The concept was odd, but the complement itself was even odder.


“Thanks,” Sarah replied, giggling inwardly. The flogging had been the lightest she had ever experienced by far, but the echoes in the largely-empty club had sounded impressive even to her.   Besides, the complement was appreciated even if it wasn’t necessarily true.


Tina led her back to the table where they’d had their first awkward pseudo-negotiation.  She asked more questions, what she had liked about their session, how she had felt, what she was thinking, and on and on. Although the debriefing involved questions just as intimate as the pre-interview, Sarah felt much more relaxed with her answers. She let Tina hug her, and rested her head on Tina’s shoulder, feeling completely at ease.  There was something magical about this- either the pain or the scenario or the interaction- whatever it was, she felt her relationship with Tina had been forever changed. As had, she suspected, her view of submission.


Sarah had thought that spankings and submission were a serious thing for her. Her experience with Tina was anything but. It was light and fun and brief, somewhat impersonal but also intimate.  And something, Sarah realised with a pleasant start, she would be more than willing to do again.


3 thoughts on “Softly, Softly

  1. First time at an event is daunting but can be so special if you’re the right people. As usual you made it so real the reader feels they are there.

  2. I was holding my breath all the way through that. I think I must be to stroppy for my own good because at quite a few points in that story Sue would have ben doing her “get your hands off if you value your nose” act. Brilliant piece Kia.

  3. Brian- Absolutely! The people make all the difference 🙂

    Susan- I can certainly understand that! Most of my experience with events is with Nimhneach (from which experiences this tale was inspired), and although the negotiations can be cringe-worthy, people are largely hands-off beyond the occasional (consensual) hug. And, of course, the play, but that is a different story 😉

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