Читать книгу The Magical World of BDSM - Андрей Ганеша - Страница 4

The first acquaintance with BDSM (not counting the fact that teachers, bosses and representatives of the authorities have been trying to dominate me during my whole life) took place when I was a little over thirty. Experiencing a light spermotoxicosis from the fact that my wife was pregnant, I placed an ad somewhere: “Looking for a submissive bitch for quality humiliation”. Truth be told, women do not fall for such ads.

Women are waiting for a prince, who will come and solve all their problems, tolerate all her shticks, while she sips wine with her friends, complaining about the lack of attention. Many of my female friends complain about the lack of attention from men, although very often their husband is a truly great guy, earning their bread and loving his wife.

In fact, women simply get bored without suffering, and if you do not make your woman suffer, then she will do it for you. But none of the women will ever admit that she is pleased to receive slaps and insults from her man. These desires are secret and are never spoken openly, but there is a way to determine that it’s time for a man to act and become more rigid. As soon as a woman begins to talk for no apparent reason that she is bored, that you are giving her little attention, you may be sure – it’s time to pick up a whip.

As for me, I did not particularly expect anything from this announcement; it was just the desire of intimacy that was pushing me to do stupid things. Unexpectedly, as the chances were, as I do understand now, one in a million, I had luck – a stranger responded to my ad, who invited me to the performance of the Solntsevo Poetic Group. At the same time, the young lady did not mind that I take my friends Mitia and Volodia to the meeting.

At that time my friends were still happy to make new acquaintances with the opposite sex. Our meeting happened in one of the bars on Smolenka. The stranger’s name was Nina, she looked a bit beaten by life but still had a pretty, cute face. To my surprise, she came to the meeting with her daughter Lena. For a fifteen year old, Lena looked and argued very uncommonly. Lenka’s neck was decorated with a leather studded collar. She freely talked about her mommy’s sexual life and her preferences.

Nina gave us her business cards that read “Swinger Club 3 +2”. My friends and I had no experience with BDSM, and we had absolutely nothing to add to Lena’s stories about the sexual life of her mother. This kind of conversation lets you tune into a certain wave, you get the feeling that the woman telling this about herself is ready to enter immediately into a sexual intercourse with you. In fact, it does not mean anything, except that she tells you her preferences and, most likely, if she tells you this, she does not see you as her possible partner. Even such light-hearted woman gets shy in the presence of her man.

My friends and I could cynically talk about sex, promiscuity, but we had no experience of domination over women. Volodia had little experience with women before he met his girlfriend Varia. Mitia found his pleasure in the moments when he had a small fight with his wife Olga, he felt alive when they slapped each other. As for me, I only saw the relationship of the BDSM format in porn movies, and they did not impress me. Women, dressed in black anti-sexual latex, with a plug in the mouth and butt, seemed to cause bewilderment, rather than sexual interest. In addition, after getting married, I had lost the skill of dealing with women a little bit.

Anyway, we soon felt that Nina or her daughter Lena did not have any sexual interest in us. Volodia, who had acquired a certain male confidence while living together with Varia, having understood everything, went off to meet other girls. Actually, girls did not interest him much, it was just important for him to maintain his status as a sought-after male. I did not really understand this kind of one-time or two-time sex. I need a little more time to really start appreciating a girl, but on the other hand, these relationships can lead to some kind of affection, and this is what Volodia tried to avoid.

Quite unexpectedly, I saw a few familiar characters onstage. Thus, a tall boy, whom I saw on TV in the program “Sex with Anfisa Chekhova”, where he played the role of a polygamist, was tediously declaring obscene rhymes. He looked a little schizoid, and I was very surprised to find out that he had a girlfriend, as I met him with a woman in a swing club a few years later. However, you can hardly wonder that the program “Sex with Anfisa Chekhova” uses non-professional actors, as in our age even “serious” news reports on Channel One are done this way.

The host of the evening had to kick this character from the stage almost by force; he was so carried away reading his poems that he could not stop. In order to take the heat off, the host called a guy in his early fifties. I’ve seen him before, even on Soviet TV, where he talked about erotic cuisine, how and what a woman should feed her man in order to warrant good sex. There was some truth in his stories, as he said that a man cannot be overfed, otherwise he will be too lazy to give his best in bed. Afterwards, the ghost of this guy haunted me wherever I was going to. I met him at the Izmailovski Park and at the Central Chess Club on Gogol Boulevard. The fate is amazing: you can meet people you do not need quite often, while those that you miss, you can only see on social networks if you have not yet been put into the ban list. The guy on the stage managed to attract some attention by piercing his throat with a sharp rod. At the same time, he said that he had come to BDSM quite recently. I shudder at the thought of what he would have done had BDSM broken into his life when he was twenty years old.

I was sitting next to Nina and observed the action taking place on the stage. Someone was declaring his homebred short little rhymes:

Calm down, time heals,

Just wait and I’ll homosexualize you!

The sun appeared behind the clouds,

I am having fucking bouts.

A guy came up to us, as it turned out later, his name was Lesha, and took Nina somewhere. A few minutes later Lesha appeared on the stage, almost completely naked. His genitals were covered with a shiny toy carrot made of cardboard. He was holding a whip in his hands, and a naked woman in a mask was standing next to him, with an appendicitis scar on her belly. Looking closely at the woman, I realized that it was my new friend Nina.

Looking at the naked Nina, I was thinking if I could have sex with her, and was inclined to answer positively. I was impressed by her sexually provocative behavior. I had no chance with her fifteen-year-old daughter anyway, as there was essentially nothing behind the sexual collar on her neck, and I had the intelligence to understand this moment. I went to look for Volodia. He was sitting with a pleasantly plump girl, who introduced herself as Tonia. After talking with Tonia for some time, Volodia began to lose interest in her, since he realized that he wouldn’t get sex that same evening. I, driven by sexual hunger, on the contrary, began to give more and more attention to Tonia.

Having returned from the scene, Nina disappeared from my radar. Tonia was flattered by the attention that I and Volodia were giving her, especially considering the fact that Volodia “the carrot”, who was performing on stage, also seemed to have plans for her. Tonia invited us next time to the Institute of Soil Science to attend a lecture on tantric sex. After accompanying Tonia to the metro station, the three of us digested for some time the cultural component of this pleasant evening.

The Institute of Soil Science was located in the area adjacent to Tretiakovka. A lecture was read by a certain Lapin. His admirers were crammed into a small room – about two hundred people were packed in a sixty square meters space. It was becoming very stuffy and uncomfortable, the brain was refusing to work, but it is possible that this was a tricky technique to suppress any doubts and sensible questions. Lapin was a muscular man of small stature, constantly engaged in narcissism, which was no big deal considering the fan packed environment. Lapin’s lecture was some kind of imitation of the Indian teacher Osho, but while Osho is certainly a talented and gifted swindler, Lapin was just an unfortunate copy. In his examples he constantly indulged in vulgarity, his mockery of the Christian understanding of the world also looked somewhat out of place. It’s not that I was a good Christian, I just do not understand why mocking what’s essentially just not your thing. In my opinion, one should not destroy other people’s worlds, if it’s possible. On the other hand, all religions try to prove their rightness and the fallacy of other teachings. Each of them tries to promote its own brand in an evil and ruthless way. So, Lapin, too, needed pupils who could bring in some income and also nourish the sense of his own worth.

After the lecture, I, my friends and Tonia are leisurely strolling towards the Red Square. The Moskvoretskii Bridge looks romantic at night, thanks to the mood I’m in. Gradually, I begin to fall in love with this girl, Tonia, but this does not seem like a good idea to me. I’m married, and I have not even got a place to take her.

Soon I have to go on a business trip to Kopeisk. Kopeisk is a suburb of Cheliabinsk. I’ve been there before. Coming there, you seem to travel thirty years in the past. All you get is scuffed, dull houses, poor lighting and no bright colors that please your eye when you are in a large city. It should be added that this trip is not just a trip in the past but a pretty warped past at that. In the Soviet past, people were kind and largely naive, the Soviet authorities tried to remove the negative from the information field, and life was perceived differently. Nowadays it is not so safe to walk past these houses anymore, as they are largely populated by people, who perceive their life, as a desperate hopelessness, and therefore they do not appreciate either their own or others’ lives.

I miss my Tonechka while I’m here, occasionally sending short messages on the phone. I try to entertain myself with work and going to the bathhouse. Since childhood, my grandfather has taught me to visit a public bath, I love this smell of the steam room and brooms, and most importantly – the feeling of cleanliness after the bath. This purity concerns not only the body but also gives some kind of spiritual joy and tranquility. I worked as an auditor, and the essence of my work was to confirm the financial statements of the client. The client was a miraculously surviving defense plant. There is no other work in the town, except for the plant and the coal mines.

During dinner, my accountant would carefully look after me, often pouring vodka into my glass. And though there were enough hot and cold snacks, I drank a bit too much. Next morning my head was buzzing but I was lucky, as the client arranged a tour of the Cheliabinsk region for me. Crossing the Industrial District, where the legendary Cheliabinsk Tractor Factory is located, which was producing Soviet tanks and where there is still a shortage of oxygen in the air and an abundance of different varieties of smoke, we went to the prosperous and slightly boring Miass. I enjoyed the nature of the Cheliabinsk region, which, in comparison with the Perm region or places near Yekaterinburg, is softer and the land is not covered by taiga. On the border of the Cheliabinsk region, the pines are already making way for sparse steppe.

But what struck me most was the city of Karabash. It hosts the Karabash copper smelting plant; therefore the whole place resembles an apocalyptic landscape. Against the backdrop of black houses, black people walk in the midst of black and red snow. If you think that you know what suffering is, then you do not know a damn thing. For the residents of Karabash, suffering has long turned into an everyday life and does not cause any unnecessary emotions. In the evening, remembering what I saw, I drank two hundred grams of vodka and felt the longing for Tonia, wondering how she was doing in Moscow.

Upon arrival in Moscow, my friends and I met at Mitia’s house. Having drunk a little, we wanted some action. And then, we called Nina, inviting her to a group sex. Nina refused, saying that to participate in the group sex we must provide her with a girlfriend for lesbian games. Damn, if we had such a friend, then we would not have called Nina. Anyway, Nina invited us to join her next weekend during the visiting session of her swing club “3 +2” in the Central House of Artists, and that was it. Mitia told that he was phoned by a drunken Tonia and her girlfriend this week, inviting him to join their girl sex. But Mitia did not go. Wow, that’s amazing, I thought, what else does he need? I mean, any sexually mature man would come running even if he had to do it barefoot in the snow, but no, Mitia just went to bed. However, if you think about it, there’s some reason in his actions, as you have to maintain calmness in any situation. Something broke in me because of this story. Fortunately for myself, I stopped feeling something special towards Tonia. It’s not that I was jealous or the prudish kind. In fact, by that time I had learned to treat treason with calmness and to experiment with sex. It’s just that for a moment I wanted to have something special in life.

Nevertheless, next weekend, I went to a meeting of the swinger club “3 +2” in the CHA. Several ugly aunties came, among whom Nina was winning, hands down, apart from one pretty young girl of about twenty-five. Among men, there was me, a small, bearded dude and a guy in leather jeans. Nina told us about the meetings of the swinger club: men would chip in to rent a sauna, where everyone is engaged in sinful activities, with active lesbian and homosexual games included. My objections and attempts to explain that I was not ready for homosexual experience were met with Nina’s remark about me having to expand my consciousness. However, I was not ready to expand my consciousness with the bearded dude, and, besides, I felt attracted to the youngest female participant. It seemed to me that something could happen between me and such a girl, who was ready to experiment. I spent the evening trying to court her, but she was ready to leave and go home, as soon as the folks were going to set off for the sauna. I wandered off to take her to the Oktiabrskaia metro station. On the way, it quickly became clear that she was not ready for any experiments in sex; she was just using this unlikely way to search for someone to marry. To say that I was disappointed is to say nothing. Asking for her phone number, I kissed her on the cheek, knowing that I would never call her again.

So, things were not easy for me at that time, BDSM-wise. I wanted some variety in my sex life, but nothing came of it. My work sucked me into the usual routine. One day, when I came to work, I found my mother’s friend Liudmila Andreevna there. She was ten years older than me, which means that she was 42 years old then – the beautiful Ukrainian with fifth-size boobs has long been living in my fantasies, but I could never arrange to stay with her alone.

In addition, there was one more circumstance that prevented me from getting close to Liudmila. Four years ago, after my birthday, I kissed her fifteen-year-old daughter. These were passionate and forbidden kisses of an adult man and an adolescent, reaching out to adulthood. In my defense, I would like to say that her daughter Oksana, despite her young age, was already quite experienced in amorous affairs. Our embraces were interrupted by the doorbell, as both our mothers stood on the threshold. My affair with “Lolita” broke off before it even began. But it was nice to feel a strong teenage passion, which gave a taste of something forbidden to our kisses. But even then, I would have referred her mommy, no doubts about that.

And so, when I saw the object of my adoration, I approached Liudmila and began stroking her neck.

– What a beautiful breast you have, anyone would go crazy over it, – I said, realizing the clumsiness of this compliment.

– Not just my breast, honey – Liudmila reacted.

Liudmila constantly eluded my kisses in the neck area and even moved over to another computer, but I continued my pursuit. Having unbuttoned a few buttons on her white blouse and shifted slightly her bra, I first began blowing warm air onto her nipple, and then I bit into it with my lips. Liudmila turned pink but did not retreat anymore. Having kissed her breasts and received a full aesthetic sexual pleasure, I was ready to stop there. But then Liudmila took the initiative, ordering me to undress. What differentiates a woman in her forties old from a woman in her twenties is that she actually goes consistently to the end. Locking the door, which has been open all this time, I began to undress. Now it was Liudmila who was kissing me all over. I was very happy, happy enough that even the colors of the surrounding world somehow changed. I was seeing everything in a somewhat pinkish hue from now on.

Liudmila laid down on the office table and told me to do whatever I wanted with her. Trembling a little with excitement, I penetrated her. At the very end, Liudmila was moaning sweetly, constantly repeating: “Darling, dear”. When it was over, she said to me: “Now, that’s a man!”

I was proud of myself, it seemed to me that all my sufferings of the last months were not in vain, and even for that fight in the train with the cops heaven finally sent me a reward. Although our first sex with Liudmila was somewhat crumpled and not entirely successful, the emotions of gratitude overwhelmed me. At that moment it became clear that I was not ready for any BDSM, that it was enough for me to just feel the warmth of a woman.