As I write this, my nipples, glans and balls are buzzing, and it brings to mind a wonderful session in the spring of 2019. It must have been our fourth or fifth time together, and Mistress Bella had prepared some e-stim, when I turned up with a bag of stinging nettles. The e-stim was forgotten as we experimented and played with nettles on my nipples, glans, balls, between my legs, and in my asshole (and I must confess to having enjoyed the moment when Bella got stung through her glove...).     I was extremely turned on by the whole thing, and loved the feel of the nettles. But it was only after I came that I realised how intense the session had been: my glans felt numb, and my nipples were buzzing as though with electricity, for about three days afterwards. It took me that long to return to normal, to feel normal when peeing, and to have any sensation in my glans. It also showed me how greatly my tolerance for pain increases when I am turned on.   Bella took some...

The taboo about paying for sexual services seems odd to me. Society finds it acceptable for people to pay for just about anything else. My physically disabled mother, for example, pays money to have people come to her house and do pretty much everything: cleaning, preparing food, feeding her, giving her medicine, washing her, brushing her teeth, inserting and removing catheters, cleaning her bottom, rubbing cream into her skin, cutting her nails, every possible physical service to the human body, apart from anything sexual. If she were younger and wanting sexual release, but unable to help herself due to her disabilities, would it be right to deny her that wish? Surely sexual release is part of good health.   I don’t fully understand why this boundary is drawn. Why should people not be allowed to provide others with something that benefits their health? I realise that people can be exploited, but people in many other occupations are miserably exploited too, and the solution there...

I’ve always been fond of having sex when my partner has her period. Not only is the likelihood of conception down to zero, but she is also more sensitive. I’m only sad that she doesn’t fancy cunnilingus when she’s menstruating – I would have no problem going down on her, but she doesn’t like the thought. But if there are women in Berlin who wish to be licked during their period, I’ll be happy to oblige. Mistress Bella surprised me towards the end of one session by placing me on the floor, sitting above me and pulling a tampon out of her vagina. She was nearly at the end of her period, so the tampon wasn’t very bloody, but it was still nice and tasty when she placed it in my mouth and ordered me to suck on it. What a wonderful idea! The next session was exactly four weeks later, so this time she put her tampon in my mouth before I even got changed, and then put a strip of leather over my mouth to keep the tampon in place – as if I would have let it drop out! Once again, it was a...

An SM session isn’t cheap. On the other hand, the prices have barely risen since I first visited Avalon in 2000, when a half-hour session cost DM200. Prices went up to €120 for half an hour when the euro was introduced, but stayed that way until 2019, which always amazed me. Now it costs €150 for half an hour, or €250 for an hour, which may sound expensive compared with, say, visiting a prostitute. But a punter paying a prostitute €50 for half an hour will find that the session ends as soon as he comes, and the prostitute has no incentive to draw things out. He will find that there are a limited number of ways to fuck, suck, etc. So it may all be over in a few minutes. She will probably do her best to make sure it is. Nor will she want to waste her time whilst he cleans up in whatever limited facilities there are.   At an SM Studio, you have proper showers, somewhere to change, and a dominatrix who will give you the time you have paid for, if not more. She will talk to you be...

A few years ago, I chanced on a report on the BBC World Service about men wearing women’s underwear. I immediately pricked up my ears, because I derive great pleasure from wearing panties every day. Sadly, the BBC report was a let-down: the person they interviewed was a drag queen, who waxed lyrical about women’s clothes in general. There was nothing about your average bloke, outwardly respectable, wearing women’s underwear under his trousers. It would have been so easy for them to find potential interviewees – a brief search on Fetlife would do the trick – and I would have found it much more interesting to learn about ordinary men, especially ordinary heterosexual men, who secretly wear knickers underneath their usual “male” clothes.    I actually started out wearing my partner’s underwear because I liked the constrictive feel around my cock and, especially, my balls. The lack of a pouch meant that I could always feel the knickers pressing me in. It was only gradually that...

Once a month has turned out to be a satisfying schedule for sessions. The Germans say “Die Vorfreude ist die schönste Freude” – anticipation is the greatest pleasure. That’s not true, but the anticipation is certainly a large part of the pleasure. A couple of weeks before the envisaged session, I contact Mistress Bella to see if she has time for me, after having checked her Twitter feed to see that she’s not advertising sessions out of Berlin on that day. Once the session is confirmed, my imagination can take hold, and I can make some suggestions about what we might do. Obviously, the final decision is hers, and she may surprise me, or the journey we go on during the session may unexpectedly take a different route from what either of us had envisaged, but the fantasising about what we can do in an hour of painful pleasure is all part of the excellent value for money offered by a BDSM session compared with the cost-benefit ratio of other sexual services.   I was talking about t...

Following that first rather sweet, but rather soft half-hour session at Avalon, I didn’t go back for a couple of years. The reason was that I embarked on an unexpected and very intense vanilla relationship which took up all my time and energy. It wasn’t until this relationship ended that I started feeling the need for pain again. I was so shocked and hurt by the break-up that I wanted to harm myself, and the most obvious way to inflict pain in a safe way was to head for Avalon. So over the next six months I went there once a month, each time for half an hour during lunchtime, each time just turning up and hoping that someone would have time for me. I can’t recall the names of the dominas, except for one memorable session when Lady Marlon kindly took me on. She was amazing: she immediately understood what I was looking for: “rein masochistisch” (purely masochistic) was her summary. And she gave a fabulous session of cbt, twisting and turning my balls in ways I didn't think possibl...