Munch

Munch

How I Find My Place

Kayserenda

https://storykeepr.com/author/kayserenda

© 2026 Kayserenda

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Chapter 1

It's a cold Tuesday night in early October. The instructions I found online said to dress in normal street clothes. That's all I have anyway. I do my best to look nice; I have no idea what to expect.

I'm going to something called a ‘munch’ that I read about online, on a popular fetish website. I'm not naming it because they aren't paying me to do that, but it has ‘fet’ in the name.

Fet, as in fetish. As in perverted sex stuff. BDSM. Kink. I've been fantasizing about it for as long as I've known it existed, maybe before.

No, definitely before. On a hot day, I've always taken delight in touching the searing metal of the seatbelt hardware in my car, in letting the burn become so intense that it feels cold. Masochism.

I love going to the dentist, sitting in the chair. Being told what to do. Holding myself rigid at another person's command. Being good. Obedience. Submission.

Once, in college, a friend had me over to their apartment and we got a little drunk. They had some stretchy bands on a shelf; I asked them what they were and they said they were bondage restraints they had picked up somewhere, that they weren't into kinky stuff like that, but that they thought it was funny to have them. They asked me if I wanted to let them bind me. I said yes. I felt my breath go shallow as they immobilized my arms, with a mixture of fear and desire. Bondage. We didn't talk about it the next day, but I had really wanted to.

The restaurant is named ‘Highway Diner’. It's large, and I have been told to go to the large walled-off room in the back. I step into the restaurant and the warm, dry air feels hot on my skin.

“Just one?” says a server. She's looking at me, expectantly.

“I'm… I'm here with the Valley Munch.”

She smiles at me. I expected her to smirk, but she cheerfully leads me back. There is a tall woman there with astonishingly gorgeous legs. She wears a black blouse and khaki shorts.

“Felicia,” says the server. “It's one of yours.”

The server hands me off. I look at Felicia. She's wearing a lot of makeup. It skirts the line between glamorous and trashy. I like it.

Felicia's grin dazzles me.

“Hello, my dear! Is this your first time?”

“Y-yes.”

“First time here or first time to a munch?”

“First time to a munch.”

She sees how much I'm shaking and her expression softens. “You're very brave, you know,” she says.

“Okay,” I say. I don't know what I mean.

“Let's sit you down. I'm Felicia, but you can also call me Mistress Kroll.”

She leads me to a round table with one other person at it.

“Steven will take good care of you. Won't you, Steven?”

Steven smiles at me. He's at least twice my age, and he has short gray hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His eyes are kind, and they sparkle.

“Of course!” he says. His voice is warm. He stands and pulls the chair out for me. I sit.

I glance at Felicia. On impulse, I say, “Thank you, Mistress Kroll.”

When I say it, an electric feeling skates across my skin.

“You're welcome, my dear.”

She heads over to greet a couple of preppy young guys who just walked in.

Steven takes a sip of water. “You did well to come in a little early. It takes forever for the people who come in right on time to get their food.”

I stare at him, helplessly.

His smile is gentle. “You don't know what to talk about, do you?”

“No, I really don't.”

“Well, you know my name. What's yours?”

“Blake.”

“Like William Blake!”

I don't expect him to know who that is. “Yes. My mother is an English professor and she loves Blake. That's how I got the name.”

“Your mother has good taste!”

A woman sits down across from us. She has a large frame and generous cleavage. She has the rod of Asclepius, a symbol of the medical profession drawn from ancient Greek imagery, tattooed on her sternum.

Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “Oh my God, I love your tattoo! Are you a doctor or nurse or something?”

The woman looks at me, astonished. “Wow, you know your mythology. Steven, did you find a friend just as much of a nerd as you are?”

Steven looks at me appraisingly. “Maybe.”

A server comes and takes our orders, then leaves.

“Anyway,” Steven says, “Blake, this is Miriam. Miriam, Blake. And Miriam is a doctor. A GP, right?”

Miriam shakes my hand. “An internist.”

I smile shyly. “It's very nice to meet you! I'm a writer.”

Both of my dinner companions look at me with interest.

“Anything I've heard of?” asks Steven.

“Maybe,” I say, “but I'm a ghostwriter with a bunch of NDAs, so I can't tell you what I've written. Well, other than personal stuff that's free on the Internet.”

Miriam tilts her head. “Am I allowed to guess what you've written?”

I giggle. “I guess. But I can't tell you if you guess right.”

“Oh my gosh, your giggle is so cute!” Miriam says. I feel my face get hot and I shrink a little. I like it, though.

“I'm interested in this personal writing you mentioned, Blake. Where can I read it?” Steven asks.

I pause. “Well, it's… well… I don't know if you would want to. It's about bondage and stuff. But I've, you know…”

I trail off.

Miriam nods. “But you feel like you don't have enough experience to make it feel real.”

“Yes!” I say. “I get really embarrassed. I post to erotic fiction sites, and a couple of times people have made fun of my writing.”

I try to keep myself from crying. God, that would be so embarrassing.

Steven gives Miriam a smirk. “Well, Miriam is good for some introductory kink.”

Miriam looks at me and winks. “I do like a newbie. The enthusiasm can be infectious.”

The server brings out a martini and I take a sip. It's not great. It helps, though.

A couple more people sit down at our table. One is a gothy-looking guy about my age and the other is an elderly man in a brown suit. I don't expect the variety; looking at us assembled, you might think everyone in the room was just a random diner. But we're all here for the same reason. It feels… comfortable. Even though we're kind of in disguise, just being among these people means something. It means being a little less alone.

Honestly, the food isn't any better than the martini. But the company is exceptional.

Chapter 2

The gothy guy is actually around my age. I have contact information for everyone at the table, but I've been messaging back and forth with him a lot; his name is Jeremy.

Jeremy

― u going to impact thing

Me

― yes u?

Jeremy

― yes but I'm nervous

Me

― we go together?

Jeremy

― that would be great

The ‘impact thing’ is a class being given by Miriam at a local dance studio. Impact is stuff like spanking.

Jeremy doesn't own a car, so I offer to drive him. His apartment is close to mine. As I approach his building, I see him waiting outside. He's wearing short sleeves, which for some reason I find funny.

As he slides into the passenger seat, he smiles at me nervously.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey.”

As I drive, the easy rapport we've built in our DMs is absent. I have things to talk about. I wonder what the class is going to be like. I wonder if he's as nervous as I am.

In the end, we don't really talk at all. The class is being held in a dance studio on the second floor of a strip mall. When we arrive, we continue our silence as we ascend the stairs.

We enter the studio and see several benches set up. They have padded feet to avoid damaging the vinyl marley floor.

Miriam is there. She's dressed in black athletic wear that accentuates her tall, powerful body. She smiles when she sees us.

“Blake, Jeremy, glad you could make it! Did you come together? That is awesome.”

Looking around, we see several other people paired off, in states of undress ranging from booty shorts to completely nude. Some of them are on their stomachs across the benches, with their buttocks on display. I see a tiny woman apply a stroke from a riding crop to a man’s ass; the cracking sound echoes in the room.

“Were you two going to pair up?” asks Miriam.

I look at Jeremy. I met him at the munch, and the last few days have been really nice, chatting with him. I can't say I don't have some trepidation, but I think I trust him enough for this. Or at least to try this.

“Will you take care of me?” I say. I don't mean to say something that sounds so intimate, but I'm not good at hiding my nerves.

Jeremy looks a little shocked by how I say it, but he recovers. “Yeah, Blake. I'll take care of you.”

Miriam smiles at us. “Excellent. Now, have either of you done this before?”

“No.”

“No.”

“I'll be guiding you, then. Blake, you're bottoming, right? You can get as naked or not naked as you want. Your choice.”

I look at Jeremy. “I think I'm comfortable with whatever. I want Jeremy to choose for me, though.”

It's just an urge I have. I want him to exert his will over me, and I want him to feel powerful doing it.

Jeremy's eyes burn as they look into mine. I can't maintain eye contact and look at the floor.

“Naked,” he says.

I smile to myself. They can't see it because my head is down. As I strip down, I ask, “May I have a collar, though?”

I've never worn one. I have this fantasy of someone putting one on me, like I'm a pet.

I'm still looking at the floor. Miriam says, “I'll go grab one.”

A moment later, she returns and I sense her handing the collar to Jeremy.

His feet appear in my field of view and he slips his fingers under my chin. As he lifts my face, I'm shaking in anticipation.

His eyes are striking. There is a mix of fear and arrogance in them. His nostrils flare. He raises the collar to my neck and slides it across my skin before buckling it around my neck. I gasp.

I am about to lower my gaze again, but Jeremy stops me by putting his fingers back under my chin.

“It looks good on you.”

His words make me feel weak and a little tingly all over my body. I lick my lips nervously.

I glance at Miriam, who looks amused. She leads us over to one of the benches. I lie face down on it.

I hear Miriam explaining consent and safe words. I've read it all online, so I don't pay too much attention. Blood is rushing to my ears, making it hard to hear.

“Blake? Is using green-light/yellow-light okay?”

“Yes,” I reply to Jeremy.

“I'm going to bind your wrists and ankles to the bench now. Let me know if any of this is too much.”

I hear Miriam say, “Good job keeping up the line of communication. It's very important that the top maintains awareness of the bottom, even if they aren't using safe words. Safety is both of your responsibilities.”

I feel the leather cinch around my wrists, then my ankles. I'm helpless. Bound. At his mercy.

I feel like I'm drifting through clouds, with little beads of cold moisture pinging on my skin. I can still hear Miriam and Jeremy talking, but it sounds so far away. I've been transported.

“You're starting by spanking with your hands. That's probably all you'll get to today. The hands provide useful feedback. If you're using a riding crop, it's harder to tell how forceful the strokes are.”

“That makes sense.”

There is something about the way they are talking. Like I'm not there, or at least that I'm an inanimate object. It causes me to drift even more into my other place. Jeremy has got this. I can trust him.

“Start by just placing your hand on the buttocks. Lightly. Caress them.”

The world around me is vague, but I feel Jeremy’s hesitant touch on my ass. I feel his hands quiver.

“Just run your hands over them. Try making a circling motion. You're warming up the skin and getting some blood flowing. This will increase the sensation, plus there is less of a shock if you start slowly. The bottom will be able to go longer if you work your way up.”

It's so relaxing. I know it's going to hurt later, but the feel of Jeremy’s hands caressing my skin is so nice. I sigh.

“Did you hear that? I think Blake likes this.”

Jeremy laughs behind me. His laugh is still nervous, but he seems to be loosening up.

“Start with some pats, just interrupting the caressing for now. Don't make it hurt.”

Pop. It's just a little pat. It doesn't hurt. It feels nice.

“Do a few more.”

Pop. Pop. Pop. Caress. It's fun.

“Okay, now try one that will sting just a little bit.”

There is another pop, but it's louder. I make an embarrassing noise in my throat.

“Check in now.”

I feel Jeremy lean over me, his body crossing mine. “Blake, are you doing okay?”

It's hard to speak, but I manage to get out, “Great. I want more.”

Jeremy withdraws.

Pop.

It's harder this time, and I feel a lingering sting on my ass cheek. I moan. “Yes,” I whisper. I'm not sure if they can hear it.

Pop.

It's even harder. I squeal. I feel every part of my body getting hot. It's like a dream, but it's better in every way.

Pop. Pop. CRACK.

I howl. That one hurt. I whimper.

I hear Jeremy say, “Blake, okay?”

“Hurt me,” I say. “Please.”

CRACK.

I scream. The pain overwhelms me. A tingling sensation rushes over my entire body. It's like an orgasm, but all over. Every nerve is active and ready for more.

“More!” I plead.

He strikes again. And again. It hurts so much. I'm being obliterated. I forget my name.

I hear him grunt with the effort. Yes, I think. Give me everything you have. Punish me.

The next stroke lands even harder. A guttural sound escapes my throat. I feel tears streaming down my face.

Hurt me, I think. Hurt me more. I am teetering on the edge of a cliff, either ready to fall or fly.

Until the next stroke. The crack of it is deafening. The cliff shatters, and I shatter too, and a whirlwind gathers pieces and spirits them into the sky.

Then the final blow lands. It reverberates in me and skates across my skin like lightning. I shriek. It's ear-splitting.

Jeremy stops, but I'm not done feeling him. My ass is on fire. The lightning is still skating across my skin.

Then everything freezes and I experience an orgasm across my whole body. The sounds that burst from my throat are sub-human wailings.

I slump, the tears streaming down my face. My breath is hot and fast. Sweat streams down my skin and drips onto the floor all around me.

I feel the cuffs being loosened from my wrists and ankles. Only then do I realize that I must have been straining against them, because I ache there, and because I can feel the sting of flesh rubbed raw.

Jeremy helps me up and walks me to a bench. He gives me a bottle of water and wraps me in a blanket. He sits down with me and guides my head to rest in his lap. He strokes my hair.

Epilogue

Jeremy and I pull into the parking lot of the Highway Diner. We get out and head for the door.

We nod to the server who is always there on munch nights. She smiles at us as we pass by, headed for the back room.

Mistress Kroll greets us and kisses us on the cheek. We head to an empty table. From across the room, Miriam and Steven wave and we wave back.

As we're looking at the menu, Mistress Kroll approaches our table, leading a nervous-looking man.

“Blake and Jeremy will take good care of you. Won't you, Blake and Jeremy?”