Dances With Werewolves


 
THE SHOCKING AND COMPELLING MEMOIR OF AN OBSESSION WITH PLEASURE FROM PAIN
 
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SYNOPSIS
 
Niki Flynn is a young woman on a journey into the dark heart of her own sexual fantasies. She is regularly restrained, spanked, caned and whipped in the most notorious adult films of modern times. And she doesn't do it for financial gain. Nor because she's a masochist. Niki Flynn makes extreme adult movies because of her curious and profound love of surrender and punishment. Her desires are all about authority and power in situations when she has none. Where she is at the mercy of others who lack just that. And for the thrill of dread, anticipation, and the euphoria that follows when she admires the marks from the headmaster's cane or the pirate's whip, Niki Flynn is willing to endure torment. Flown to the secretive underground world of taboo film-making, this strange art has led her all over the world. From schoolgirl canings in England to spankings in California, from a Stasi interrogation in Germany to a forced haircut in Prague, Niki Flynn progressed to her darkest role ever - in Bratislava, where she danced with the fiercest werewolves of all.
 
(Excerpt)
 
THE FIRST TIME
 
     I was born kinky. My earliest memory is a dream I had when I was about five years old. It was very simple, very Freudian. I had wandered into the kingdom behind the sofa in my parents' den, where the king caught me. He stood over me in his red velvet robe and golden crown, scowling and shaking his finger. Then he sat down heavily on his throne, turned me over his knee and spanked me. My father was sitting in his big black recliner, reading. He watched impassively for a few seconds before turning back to his paper.
     I woke up feeling as though I'd done something bad. I was deeply ashamed. I didn't understand why spanking fascinated me and I didn't understand why it felt wrong to be fascinated. I was embarrassed by the dream and terrified that my father had somehow seen it through my eyes. Guilt, shame and confusion plagued me for years.
     The Net changed everything. I had just graduated from college when I typed 'spanking' into a search engine and discovered a whole new world. 'I am ONLINE!' I scrawled in my diary. 'And I also know now that I am truly, truly unhappy.'
     My vanilla life was over, you see. And with it my vanilla relationship.
     Once I found other spankos and realised that other people had fantasies complementary to mine, I knew I would never be able to bottle up my desires again. I was sick of lying to my partner and to myself. I was wasting my time pretending to be someone I wasn't when there were others out there who wanted exactly what I wanted. So I said goodbye forever to vanilla boyfriends and dived into the spanking scene.
     I met kinky friends and went to kinky parties. I played with lots of people, but I didn't consider doing it professionally until much later. Looking back now, it seems such an obvious path. The idea was hot; I just lacked the confidence. Besides, I didn't know anything about the pro side of things. I imagined the stereotypical sleazy porn mogul (I'll make you a star, baby!) who would take advantage of his naïve little ingénue, pushing her further than she wanted to go.
     Not that I had any experience of mainstream porn films, mind you. I'd seen the cheesy softcore ones they showed late at night on cable TV. Occasionally there'd be a scene with some campy bondage or whipping, but even when they weren't caricatures, they were simply too lame to be arousing.
     I saw my first real porn film with a group of friends in college. Long before I knew other spankos existed. You'll laugh at this, but when the first penetration shot appeared on the screen, I was shocked.
     'Oh my God,' I gasped. 'They're actually having sex!'
     Everyone stared at me.
     'Yeah… It's a porno.'
     That was an instant education. I'd been expecting slightly more graphic simulation of what I'd seen in the softcore movies. It had never occurred to me that a porno was actual sex. My mind reeled as I made secret connections: if there were movies of real sex, might there also be movies of real spanking?
     My sister Jessie was a year younger, but a lot more worldly-wise. I'd stayed at home and gone to a local college on a drama scholarship, terrified of the prospect of being on my own around strangers. Jessie, my polar opposite, had gone to a university in another city, eager to party away from home. While I was getting secret thrills out of performing a scene from Taming of the Shrew and wishing my Petruchio would spank me, Jessie was discovering drugs and kinky sex. She also discovered my first fellow spanko. On one of Jessie's weekends home, before the Net, I asked her to take me to a porn shop. I didn't tell her what I was looking for, but it wasn't hard for her to guess.
     'If you're looking for spanking porn,' Jessie said without blushing, 'you need to meet my new boyfriend, Steve. He's got tons of CP movies.'
     'CP?'
     'Corporal punishment.'
     Spanking. Corporal punishment. Just hearing the words turned my knees to water. I couldn't even say them! I blushed furiously and tried to be offhanded.
     'Oh, yeah. Sure. Whatever.'
     The first spanking video Steve showed me was called Punishment PT. It was awful. The dialogue was feeble and the premise was ludicrous. But it was a spanking video and that's what counted. Two English schoolgirls went across their gym master's knee for a hard bare-bottom spanking. It was punishment. It was real. I had never been so turned on in my life.
     One night Steve was visiting late. My parents had gone to bed and Steve, Jessie and I were watching a horror movie. Or rather, we were pretending to watch it. Steve had brought me another fix of videos, but that wasn't all. When I saw the ping-pong paddle in his backpack, a shudder went through my whole body. I pressed my legs together, embarrassed at the instant wetness I felt.
     'No way,' I said, but the tremor in my voice was unmistakable. It was the same unconvincing tone I'd used as a little girl, daring the boys on the playground to chase me, catch me and tie me up. Oh, please, no, stop, anything but that...
     'Stand up.'
     My face burned and I looked at Steve in terror. I was frozen. The chair creaked behind me and before I knew it, my sister had shoved me to my feet. I was wearing a skimpy top and a short red tartan skirt that left little to the imagination. No one who knew me in school would have guessed I'd grow up to be such a shameless exhibitionist, but I was making up for lost time.
     He slid forward until he was sitting on the edge of the sofa. The same one I'd been spanked behind by the king in my dream. Steve adjusted his glasses and looked at me, waiting.
     I appealed to Jessie for help, but all she did was smile sadistically.
     'Mom and Dad will hear,' I said in desperation.
     With a soft laugh Jessie turned the volume up and the sound of screams and chainsaws filled the room.
     Steve took my hand and pulled me firmly towards him. The inevitability sent a thrill through me and for a moment I was dizzy; I stumbled. Then he said it.
     'Over my knee.'
     I'd heard those words hundreds of times in movies and in my own head. But this time it was real. Blood pounded in my ears. I can't remember if he pulled me over or if I simply melted across his lap, but suddenly I found myself staring at the carpet. My skirt rode up and the air on my thighs made me feel exposed, vulnerable.
     Steve rested his hand on my bottom. He gave me a few light pats over my skirt before Jessie told him to lift it.
     'No!' I gasped.
     I lay across his lap, trembling with fear and excitement. I strained to hear the creak of my parents' door over the noise from the TV, convinced that they would barge in any second.