[MF] [BDSM] [Spanking] Discovering BDSM at Burning Man Pt. 1

Looking back on the sexually deviant moments in my life, there’s one in particular I love to pull from the drawer of my memories because it was one of the first times I understood how deliciously surprising it could be to test your sexual boundaries. People like to say, “you never forget your first,” in reference to sexual partners. And that may be true, but I’d rather argue you never forget your first true exposure to the carnal pleasures of others. I know I never forgot mine.

I must say before I continue, and I know other Burners can attest to this, but a kind of magic happens at group events like Burning Man, something in the air that really draws out the carnal desire in the attendees, even the most reserved or the least experienced.

To premise, I had turned 21 a few weeks prior to attending this Burning Man Festival with my bf at the time. It had mostly been his idea to go, as I had hardly ever stepped foot in bar before let alone considered going to a hippie festival in the middle of the Nevada desert. We had spent the past week partying on the dusty playa with friends and strangers alike, and also much of it bickering over little things that would eventually boil over sexually for us on one of our final nights at the festival. On that final night, my partner and I made a deal to explore some of the more sexually explicit sides of Burning Man together, and holy shit I had no idea what I was in for.

We had heard from other Burners about this BDSM club called The Seven Deadly Sins and decided to check it out their last “show” for ourselves. I was dressed in my very best sparkly pink tutu, with a white bikini underneath, army boots and goggles, with my long auburn hair in two braids down my back to keep the dust of the playa at bay. My partner kept it simple in black biker shorts and a rainbow feather boa around his neck gifted to him by a stoned bystander.

The Seven Deadly Sins was a makeshift BDSM bar in the middle of Black Rock City. If the bar had any theme at all it was simply SEX. The bright red neon signs led us into a darkly lit, but large room with maroon and black velvet curtains lining the inside walls and candles on all the tables. Inside I notice there is an stage to the left equipped with many red lights, a very large make-shift prize wheel and an empty stool. To the right was a bar with a glowing red table top served drinks with sexy names like “Panty Dropper” and “Buttery Nipple Shots”. We apprach the bar and a male bartender clad in nothing but a leather harness offers to make me a “Redheaded Slut martini” with a wink, and I blush. He mentions the show is going to start soon, and we should grab a table at the front if we want the best seats in the house.

We take a seat in the front row and the beginning of the show is obvious because the stage lights lit up red and white and the host strutted out. She was a dominatrix force, to say the least. Tall — probably six foot, with straight neon red hair down to her ass and a tiny waist crammed into a a tight leather catsuit and 3 inch heels. I noticed as she strutted out she had around her waist a black toolbelt with both a paddle and a whip attached. The prize wheel she stood in front of was listed with “prizes” of “10 spanks with a paddle”, “25 spanks with a hand” “5 spanks with a whip” etc. and I then realized this Dominatrix Hostess wasn’t just going to host this party, she was fully planning on *punishing* some willing audience members.

I was nervous as I sipped by red-colored martini, but also secretly electrified with excitement at the idea of watching strangers get spanked. I looked over at my partner, and he seemed just as thrilled at the idea as I was.

The Hostess had just the right amount of bitchy dominatrix with the numerous volunteers that came up on stage to spin the wheel and be spanked by her. She would often taunt them when they bent over the stool in front of her, “you want me to spank you as hard as I can, don’t you?” while holding her little whip in one hand. Or she would ask the audience, “how hard should I spank this little fucking pervert?” and we would all cheer and scream obsceneities when she told us to.

I was enamoured with what was happening. Feeding off the sexual energy of the room, and getting hot off watching people being humiliated in front of me —knowing they liked it. Meanwhile, my partner was squeezing my naked thigh periodically, practically squirming in his seat from the excitement of it all. I looked down at his tight biker shorts and his cock was hard. Apparently he was feeding off the sexual energy of the room as well.

It was at this moment the Dominatrix’s next victim walked up on stage, the first (and only now that I think of it) woman that came up on stage the whole night to volunteer to be spanked. She was petite, pale, with blonde dreadlocked hair tied back in a ponytail. She approached the stage in nothing but a wrapped skirt, completely topless, her tiny perky tits out. But I was looking more at the sheepish look on her cute cherub-like face.

She got up on the stage and spun the wheel, “25 spanks with a paddle” won, the most spanks of the night so far. The Domintrix instructed her firmly to hike her skirt up and bend her ass over the black stool, directly in front me as I was sitting in the front row. She did so obediently exposing a tiny little ass in a black thong.

“This is gonna hurt,” The Hostess said as she swung back her arm and instructed the audience to start counting down her spanks. The first paddle cracked with a loud smack on her white ass, and even I sucked in a breath at its sheer force. And the Dominatrix went on, “24…23…22…” The little blonde’s entire body made a jolt with each movement, like she was being hit by a jolt of electricity. I couldn’t stop staring at her little tits as they began swinging and heaving with each paddle as we counted down her punishment,”15…14…13.”
She was eye level with me, bent over the little stool. She kept glancing sheepishly at me often as I openly watched her face and ass cheeks flush pink to red with each humiliating spank, and I wondered if her pussy was as wet as mine was. She made a little smirk. She was loving it.

“6…5…4…” we counted down, louder and louder, as the Dominatrix finished the final three paddles with loud, resounding smacks — forcing the blonde recipient to bite her lip and cry out at the end.
The crowd cheered and yelled when she finished, and I literally sat there holding my breath — my eyes locked on hers and she stood up from the stool. She went to pull down her skirt and the Dominatrix Hostess smacked her hand away and spun the blonde’s bare and red-hot backside to the audience to show us her handy work.

“This randy little bitch wants to hide my fine work! What do you say to that?” She asked the audience. Everyone in the audience cheered and I just sort of sat there, doe-eyed and shocked at my own response to this sexual madness. I had known for a long time I loved women as well as men, but watching this little blonde flush red with pain, pleasure, and humiliation while she simultaniously looked me in the eye…well, it turned me on in a way I had never exerienced before. I could feel my own wetness between my legs underneith the white bikini bottoms.

“Do I have any final takers for the evening?” The Dominatrix asked. I was jolted back to reality when my partner, squeezing my thigh again, looked at me and said, “I think I want to volunteer!”
And did he! I will save that for Pt. 2.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/zdwzs1/mf_bdsm_spanking_discovering_bdsm_at_burning_man