On the appointed night I was nervous, then scared. It was to be at his house, to which I had never been. Bertie had taken his role seriously. He answered the door clad in an old fashioned smoking jacket over pegged gray trousers and a wide ascot secured with a stick pin about his throat. I had wanted a 'Sir Stephen', and he had provided one. He led me into what must have been his study; a desk, book shelves, leather armchairs; the only light cast from a floor lamp and a fire in the hearth. It was perfect! He directed me to the middle of the room then sat down, a black leather riding crop (borrowed from me) in his lap. I was to undress. Only to my underwear, though, I had to save some of my identity. Under my clothing I wore a pair of boxers and a man's undershirt. My little joke was greeted with a frown. Then a reprimand.

"Eyes down."

Then a command.

"Get down. On your hands and knees. Crawl."

I did as I was told. I crawled around and around the room, eyes to the floor. At first I felt silly, then strangely conspicuous. I sneaked a look at my Master. He was reading a book, totally disregarding my progress. I hate being ignored. I stopped.

"I told you to crawl."

I sat up on my heels and shook my head. This was not what I had expected.

"No? Your insolence will cost you. You will continue, as I said, only without that shirt and those ridiculous shorts."

I am very self-conscious about my body. To totally bare myself before someone not my lover was unthinkable. He repeated his command, and I actually removed the undershirt. I sat in the middle of the room, wearing only my bra and boxer shorts, considering; my hand shook a little when I reached for the bra hook. I couldn’t do it. I got to my feet and headed for the exit. What came next happened so quickly I had little time to think or react. His arm was about my waist, half carrying me back into the room and over to the chair where I was lain face down over the arm. His voice was low and controlled.

"You have been defying me all evening. And laughing—yes, laughing at me since you walked through the door. My door. My house, my rules. Your attitude needs adjusting."

He smacked me with the riding crop to make his point--it was the very first time I had ever been hit. Then he removed the rest of my clothing. I was paralyzed, my concentration focused on my burning thigh. He sat me upright in the chair, naked, then tied my wrists to my thighs and my ankles to the chair legs with neckties. He removed his ascot to use as a blindfold. I could feel his knee brush mine. He was doing the unthinkable, staring at me; all of me. He was in control. It was frightening and exciting. With that one quick snap of leather the world turned upside down, and then the bottom dropped out leaving me breathless, dizzy, and, yes, aroused.

My emotions were at such a fevered pitch I was afraid that when Bertie finally released me, I would take one look at his face and fall in love. (Or lust) I now understood why slaves often form such strong bonds to their Master. Emotions run high and they are so vulnerable, so fragile; it is so exhilarating and devastating at once, just like love.

Unfortunately, our friendship was never the same afterwards and we drifted apart; by mutual consent. I regret his loss, but am eternally grateful for his contribution to my experience.

On the surface my introduction into the world of the submissive may seem harsh and unnecessarily cruel, but, underneath it all, I was in control. I could have called an immediate halt at any time during the proceedings with use of the agreed upon 'safe word'. I chose not to. Even when I started to walk out I had not yet reached my limit. Submissives, usually, at some point, do test the Dominant's resolve. Bertie reacted appropriately. He calmly regained control with pain (surprise), then punished me with shame (embarrassment).

What is not immediately apparent is the amount of preparation beforehand. Talk, talk, talk, and more talk. I had to explore my deepest, most obscure fears and desires, then be able to define my boundaries in a clear, concise manner. While there was no definite script, only a general outline, I had to be sure, without a doubt in my mind, that Bertie understood his role and could carry it out in a professional and responsible manner. Which he did, to my satisfaction.

Later, I found a Lover who initiated me into the best of both; SM and sexual intimacy.

Given all this, I think I am reasonably well qualified to advise others on getting started in BDSM.