I want to tell you about my most embarrassing BDSM experience.

I love the variations of the "Captured Spy" scenario. My favorite version goes like this: I hide, somewhere in my apartment, my phone with the alarm clock set up to go off in thirty minutes. It serves as "the bomb". I play as a spy who knows the location of the bomb. My Dom must get this information out of me. He can do anything he wants with me (within the negotiated limits).

Only once I broke within 2 minutes.

I was seeing an American, he was in his late 40s, an American army officer. His name was Jeff. He was a muscular man, well-trained, with a fit body with a chiseled jawline. He had piercing brown eyes. His black hair was trimmed. In bed, he had a sadistic streak which I enjoyed.

I told him about the "Captured Spy" game. Usually, men are excited, but he looked only mildly interested. "We can play if you want," he said. I said I wanted it. So, we talked about my limits. He listened patiently. Then he said, in a casual tone, "What if I restrain you, put a piece of cloth on your face, and start pouring warm water on it?"

I chuckled. What is this? I'm hardcore! I'm kinky! Does he really think I'm scared of some water splashed into my face?

"Sure," I said. He asked more questions, and I forgot about it almost immediately.

We agreed to meet in one week.

When the time had come, I was ready for him. Before his arrival, I had hidden my smartphone with an alarm clock and put on my "spy clothes". I had donned a black mini-skirt, a tight top and heels.

As a pre-game, he fastened me on the kitchen chair with black ropes. They went around my body and between my legs. It felt intense, with the pressure of the ropes against my clit. He fastened my hands to the back of the chair.

The time was 7 pm. The "bomb" was supposed to go off at 7:40 pm. I told him to leave my apartment and get back in 10 minutes for the game to start. He obeyed. While waiting for him, I tried to get out of my restraints loudly cursing. I was trying to get into the mindset of an angry captured spy for an underground organisation.

Then Jeff entered my apartment. He looked menacing. His face, so warm before, expressed nothing.

"Young lady," he said, "I would you to save yourself from embarrassment and let me know where you planted the device."

"Fuck you!", I shouted, "I will tell you nothing! Death to imperialism!"

He slapped my face.

"Watch your tongue," he said calmly.

Then he opened his bag and took two small objects from it: a ping-pong ball, and a piece of black cloth. It looked like a pillowcase but slightly thicker. He put the objects on the kitchen table. He also did something unexpected: he untied my right hand.

Then he took me by my throat and pulled me so strongly, that the chair fell backward. The sensation of falling was dizzying. I was lying there, tied to the chair, my head on the floor, my legs above my head, tied to the legs of the chair.

Jeff watched over me from above. Then he took the ping-pong ball and put it into my free hand. "I want you to hold it," he said. "I will torture you. When you are ready to tell me the location of the device, just release it. I will end the torture."

Something in his voice was so serious, so grave, that I obeyed without objection and squeezed the ball. I watched him taking a mug from a cupboard and filling it with tap water. Then he took his black pillowcase and covered my face with it. He kneeled over my body so that his knees were holding down the sides of the pillowcase pulled over my face. I could still breathe, but I could not move my head, and could not see anything.

Then he started to slowly pour the water on my pillowcase-covered face. I felt the wetness of the pillowcase touching my skin. "It's nothing", I thought.

But then, in a split second, the sensation changed completely. The moment the water touched my nostrils and mouth, I felt a sharp pain in my chest. It was as if I was choking. I tried to shake my head to get the pillowcase off, but I couldn't. I felt my body shaking and trembling.

I was struggling to breathe. It was as if there was no air. My lungs were burning, and my throat was closing. It was like I was being held underwater, with no way to break to the surface. I felt the water rushing into my mouth and nose, and I couldn't stop it.

I was in a full-blown panic. I had to get the cloth off my face. But I could not.

I released the ping-pong ball.

He stopped pouring and removed the pillowcase from my face.

It was such a relief to take in a deep breath of air. I coughed and wheezed as I fought to catch my breath. My body was shaking and trembling, and my heart was pounding in my chest. I felt tears streaming down my face as I tried to calm down.

"The device," he said.

"In the wardrobe," I responded, "Left pocket of the grey coat." He went to my bedroom and came back with my phone. With a triumphant smile, he showed me the time. It was 7:02 pm.

"I still have some time to have fun with you, young lady," he said.

I was still getting over my panic, unresponsive like a rag doll. He untied me, undressed me, and took me right there on the kitchen floor.

He took me from behind, his cock inside me. His fingers were digging into my hips. He fucked me like I was an object.

And I was an object.

I was still reeling from the panic. My body was trembling and shivering. My heart was racing, and my lungs were heaving. My skin was wet and clammy from the sweat that had broken out all over me. I felt like I couldn't get enough air like I was drowning, and I couldn't catch my breath.

Jeff ignored my distress and continued to fuck me from behind. He pulled my hair and thrust into me with abandon. He came into my pussy and tossed me aside.

"I'm done here," he said and left my flat.

The scene was over.

He returned in 15 seconds for the aftercare. He was good, and tender, and caring. He made me feel safe again.

And yet, that was our last meeting.

I could not see him again. What he did to me was consensual. I had asked for it. And yet, I could not see him again. And this is the most embarrassing thing about it.