Last week I had my first experience with BDSM (for those of you unfamiliar with the seedier side of the sexual underworld but too lazy to click on the link, this stands for bondage & discipline/sadomasochism). Since, as I’ve mentioned many times, I enjoy being told what to do in bed, it made sense to follow that preference to the logical extreme.
When the relevant part of the encounter—which I quite enjoyed, though I don’t think I’ll be pursuing this as a lifestyle choice—was over, my partner removed my blindfold and I saw that the room I was in was filled almost to overflowing with Star Wars paraphernalia.
There was a poster on the door saying “Welcome to Coruscant!”
All I could think was, I wonder whether he spent more on the leather with which he tied me up or on the Star Wars figures.
Except of course I knew the answer.
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