Written by: Fido Illustrated by: Ickis Mirolo
My first time visiting Berlin was exactly six years ago. The main event I had planned during my stay there was an acoustic gig at this old, scenic concert hall, which I was incredibly excited about. Little did I know that the cherry of my trip would be waiting for me on a different cake.
I call my first Berlin visit “my sexual awakening”. By then I already had a long list of things I wanted to try and yet no one to try them with. I guess that’s the joy of living in a small country in Eastern Europe. Where I’m from even sex is considered a taboo, let alone BDSM or ‘unusual’ kinks and fetishes. I was put in a tiny box and I couldn’t wait to break it and get out of it. I couldn’t wait to be and feel free.
About two months before my trip I decided to test the deep OkCupid waters and see if I could find someone who might be into some of the things on my to-do list. My ‘research’ ended up with me meeting someone who would not only tick all these boxes but will add some more (and tick these too). He was exactly my type - painfully skinny, big blue eyes, mischievous smile and long, wavy hair. The phrase ‘He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus’ didn’t apply to him at all; instead, he was an exact copy of Jesus. Except for the fact that his brain was filled with endless ideas of torture, and his eyes were simply screaming ‘Danger!’. Fine by me - this was exactly what I was looking for.
I met him on my second night there. I was incredibly nervous and didn’t know what to expect. A little (or a lot) scared too but that fear was so well mixed up with arousal that I could barely see the line. As Joey from ‘Friends’ would say, ‘the line was a dot to me’. And I loved it. My poor brain was bursting with adrenaline to the point where I didn’t even flinch when on my way to meet him, at 11 pm, the guy next to me on the subway started breaking glass bottles and had a complete meltdown. I did not care at all. I remember sharing that with my depraved Jesus and his only response was, ‘Don’t get hurt. Leave that to me.’. That’s exactly what I intended to do.
We had a quick drink at this cosy, candle-lit bar close to his place in Neukölln where I tried to ease up my nerves with a pint of German beer that he chose for me. No luck there. I was overwhelmed with feelings of anxiety, arousal, fear and lust. That’s the cocktail that I was actually getting drunk on. His piercing blue eyes were staring at me and, even though he was smiling, I could sense his evil thoughts and his depraved plans for me. Right on that table he was the hunter and I was the prey. I was the scared little doe who knows that she needs to run for her life, but her curiosity and endless waves of desire keep her legs firmly glued to the floor. So, after a quick chat and a few reminders of him to finish my beer, I gave up and voluntarily fell into the hunter’s trap.
When we entered his room, the first thing I noticed was a whole bunch of sex toys placed carefully on his table. Dildos, floggers, whips, a big pack of condoms and, my favourite sight, a collar and a leash. Pet play was something I really wanted to try as the whole idea of giving someone full control of my body and actions was a major turn on for me. It was kind of cute seeing that he put a real effort to facilitate it. He got a collar for me and even a cat toy that he would swing in front of me as I was on all fours. He was incredibly eager to help me explore my kinks and to me, that was mind blowing.
Not long after we found ourselves in his room and I had a proper look around to check for “normal” objects (luckily, the Beach Boys vinyl and Nabokov’s ‘Lolita’ on his desk managed to calm my nerves a bit), the hunter and prey game began. I had never truly experienced intense impact play before that (spanking, face slapping and choking don’t count) and he was really mean to me, so the pain was excruciating. I took it for as long as I could before I had to use our safeword and ask him to stop. I could feel my skin breaking from the stingy flogger, and I was a crying, sobbing, whimpering mess. I hated it and loved it at the same time, with equal amounts of passion.
Now, if you ask a submissive person about the things they like the most when it comes to BDSM and impact play, I’m sure somewhere along the lines you’ll hear the word ‘cathartic’. That’s exactly what this whole experience was for me. The pain from the flogger did make me cry and shake, yes, but it also provided a sweet release of all the troubles and worries I had in my head. I could let go without caring about how I would look (or sound) and to me, that was beautiful. As a bonus, the attraction and sexual chemistry I had with my sadistic OkCupid match were so powerful that, without realising, I ended up surrendering myself to him. Completely. To the point where he would flog and slap me and I would cry and shake, but then immediately calm down with each one of his kisses. As scary as this sounds, it was also extremely liberating and, at that point, I genuinely didn’t care whether I’m in real danger. What was the worst thing that could happen? I could get seriously hurt, maybe even die? I did not care at all. At least it would’ve been during an experience I was craving for for years. Plus, the cliché concept that is dying during a BDSM session in Berlin’s most hip neighbourhood sounds weirdly romantic… right?
There’s something incredibly fucked up about the idea of a sadistic, depraved man, who, at the same time looks perfectly innocent, with his cute smile and his Jesus ‘outlook’. The contrast between innocence and depravity has always been a massive turn on for me and I found it all in him. From walking me on a leash around the room and giving me a milk enema (RIP to his white furry rug), to hitting me repeatedly while making me count each slap out loud with him, his hard hands were touching all my soft spots and I couldn’t get enough. It was a night of blood, sweat, spit, tears, milk and every bodily fluid possible. All of that was mixed well and served to me in the form of an experience that I’ll never, ever forget… even the fact that we fucked six times in just a few hours takes a step back compared to all the fantasies that came to life that night.
An unholy cocktail I could get drunk on over and over again.