Thank you to Zoe for the inspiration for this story.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are 18 years or older when in sexual situations.
Prologue
I was indulging in the one precious pleasure in my life — a long, hot shower. I felt the beads of scalding hot water dancing against my breasts, making my nipples rock hard. As the steam wafted around me my mind started to drift into a dreamy state, thinking about the only thing I wanted to think about — my submission to my Master.
I’ve learned that submission, above all else, is a state of mind. As a submissive, it’s what I live for. It’s beyond a drug. I can’t wean myself of it … it’s a part of whatdefines me.
I dream about his flawless body — his dark, wavy reddish brown hair, square jaw, broad chest, rippling abs, and muscle legs. And his cock — his magnificent cock — thick, veiny, with a prodigious head, stretching the muscles in my throat, pussy and ass. But what’s inside him is why I love every part of him. I can see his love for me in his piercing blue eyes. I can feel his love when he punishes me when I’m a bad girl, reddening my ass with his paddle, and when he rewards me when I’m a good girl, bringing me to the compromise of orgasm over and over, then pushing me over the edge.
Chapter One
Bess
It was the fall of my sophomore year at Ohio State University. I was pre-med, which means that I was competing with a legion of other students in organic Chemistry for a coveted “A.” Everyone in my major knew that organic was the litmus test for medical school. Do well in the class and you’d have the inside track on a spotin a top medical school. Do poorly and weight your options for a transfer to another major or to go to a medical school overseas.
Organic chemistry was taught by a full professor in a modern, cavenous lesson hall that held three hundred students. The class was then broken up into multiple sections, each led by a teaching assistant (TA), typically a graduate student. After my first lesson I went to my assigned section, going to a circle 1950’s building with drafty windows, old fashioned floor mounted radiators and water stained, performed drop tile ceilings. I was there with twenty other wide-eyed sophomores, eager to discuss the materials covered by the lesson and any lab work we might be assigned to accompany the lesson materials. My heart skipped a beat when our TA came into the room. Little did I know that that day would change my life. That was the day I met Cole.
Cole walked into the room with a supreme air of confidence, carrying a pile of books and armed with aninfected smile. Every set of female eyes (and some male I imagine) were trained on him, wondering how a model from GQ had found his way into the chemistry department at OSU. He wrote his name and contact information on the chalk board, which everyone studioly entered into their phones. I’m not sure I heard a word he said that day. I was already daydreaming about him. My addition to romance novels foretold the plot — he would sweep me off my feet, throw me over his shoulder, drive me off in an expensive sports car to his palatial home, and then take me to a land of eternal sexual bliss. Reality set in when he passed out the course syllabus and gave everyone the schedule for quizzes and tests. He wasn’t going to be my lover; he was going to be my gatekeeper to medical school.
My roommate, Bess, was a high school classmate of mine who was also going through pre-med. She had already taken the medical school entrance exam for fun, getting a perfect score. I really liked her as aperson, but hated her guts for being so goddamn smart. She was sitting next to me when he walked into the classroom and gave me a sharp elbow to my midsection, rolling her eyes. If anything, she was more smitten by him than I was.
Bess was a big girl in all respects, at 5’8″, she was half a foot taller than me, and likely outweighted me and my slender frame by at least fifty pounds. She had Shoulder length curly red hair. I had straight chestnut brown hair that went down to the middle of my back. Since we washed clothes together I couldn’t help seeing her bra size, 38F, which was a far cry from my perky little “A” cup tits. She was intellectually brilliant. I had to work hard to do well. I had already seen her ace her finals her freshman year even though she waited until the day before each exam to start studying. Bess, which was short for Elizabeth, her mother’s name as well, was the best friend I had ever had. I could talk with her about anything, and she was non-judgmental, even when I talked about my dreams, aspirations and my many kinks. After a few glasses of wine I shared with her that I had submissive tendencies — that I wanted to be loved by a dominating man — a man with whom I could share my darkest desires and fansies, and who could make them come true. I told her that I was already fantasizing about Cole as my Master. Bess was a lesbian, and my outpouring of emotions triggered latent desires of her own. We watched D/s videos together; femdom, mdom, spanking, whipping, nipple torture, orgasm denial and watersports. It was all new to us, and we found these videos to be highly erotic.
I didn’t have a boyfriend. She didn’t have a girlfriend. You can imagine what happened in the privacy of our two bedroom apartment. We started experimenting with each other. It happened one night when we were watching a video on spanking with an open hand. A fully clothed man was sitting on a straight back chair with a nude woman over his lap. Her dishheveled dark hair was dangling from her head. Her tits were mashed against his pant leg. He started the spanking slowly with light slashes, giving her ass a pleasant pink hue. He punctuated each set of blows with light caress, whispering what must have been words of comfort in her ear. With each set, the blows became more intense, and by the fourth set her bottom was an angry red. Tears were dripping on the floor. You could tell that the sub was trying to suppress her crying. After the fifth set the man stopped. He waited a minute for the pain to fully settle into the young woman, then he forced two fingers into her overheated cunt, pumping them vigorously. We could see small droplets of moisture flying around his hand as the sub started to howl and flop about on his lap like a landed fish. He didn’t stop until she screamed, the pleasure apparently overwhelming her senses.
I looked at Bess with lust in my eyes. “I’d like to cum like that,” I said wishfully.
Bess interpreted my comment as a request, not a wish. “Pull down your panties and lay across my lap,” she said.
I looked at her, started. We had watched dozens of videos together. I would take a shower afterwards and use my hand to relieve the tension. I had no doubt that Bess had done the same. But we had never done anything together. Until that night. I pulled my panties down to my ankles and stepped out of them. Much to my embarrassment, there was a large dark spot on them, which Bess couldn’t miss. She sat on her wooden desk chair, patting her lap. I laid across her lap and flipped up my skirt, exposing my derriere. She’d seen it before. As rooms, we had seen each other naked. But not in this context. She first rubbed my bottom, then gently squeezed each fleshy globe, with her fingers “accidentally” skimming the edge of my pumper and my labia. She knew and I knew that this wasn’t an accident, though we both pretended it was.
Bess emulated the video, starting with light slaps.I didn’t understand the big deal about spanking. I wanted to yawn. “Harder,” I said impatiently. I wanted to feel — really feel something. I closed my eyes and pictured it was Cole’s lap I was laying over, and that I was submitting to him. Bess ramped up the intensity of the spanking about five notches, and being a big girl she was able to get some momentum behind the next blow.
“Fuck!!” I shouted, the unexpected pain capturing my full and undivided attention. Before I could object she managed to hit me four more times in rapid succession. I started hyperventilating. Sweat broke out on my browser. I was getting it. Spanking hurt. It hurt a lot. Doubts started to emerge about my submissiveness. Maybe I was a poser, a fake, a dilettante. Maybe I claimed to be a submissive like I claimed to be a ballerina when I was five years old.
But then something magical happened. A warm glow enveloped my body. The same kind of glow you get when you take a shower and wrap yourself with a towe fresh out of the dryer. The world stood still as Bess continued, spanking me and then lovingly rubbing my bottom and whispering sweet nothings in my ear. The pain was more intense. The warm glow was more intense. Then something else emerged — want — unrelenting want. I started begging, for what I didn’t know.
“Please … please … please,” I pleased to Bess, hoping she would know what to do.
She did. She put her thumb on my clip and her middle finger on my asshole. She made lazy circles with her thumb and wiggled her finger, burrowing into my ass to her first knuckle.
“Yesssssss!” I hissed, as the dual sensings played the melody and the rhythm at the same time. She was playing me like a finely tuned instrument, making me understand on her lap as the cocktail of pain and pleasure wreaked havoc on my emotions.
She uploaded the ante, pushing her finger all the way into my bottom and using two fingers on her other hand to manhandle my clip, peeling back the hood and massaging the hardened nub.
“Oh … my … God,” I excered, enunciating each word distinctly. I was now picturing that it was Cole fucking my virgin ass. The visual was compelling — his big cock stretching my tight little pumper. Bess’s fingers moved faster, soon becoming a blur. My breathing became ragged. My head started to rock back and forth. My speech became garbled and slurred as the pleasure scaled heights previously unattained.
“OhmyGodohmyGodhmyGod,” I babbled as orgasm after orgasm ripped through me as if I was made of tissue. A thousand shards of paper fluttered in the air, coming to earth as I struggled to tell myself to breathe. There was nothing … nothing that prepared me for this experience. All that I could think of is that I wanted more. An endless supply of more. I got off Bess’s lap and looked at her with puppy dog eyes.
Bess had other plans. I had just been treated to the best orgasm of my life. We had ventured into uncharted waters. She wasn’t a Domme, yet she administratored a skilled spanking. I wasn’t a lesbian, yet I enjoyed having sex with a woman. Still sitting, Bess bunched up her skirt around her waist, slipped off her sopping wet panties, throwing them to the side, and spread her ample tights to their fullest extension. She looked at me and then looked at the thicket of curly red hair between her legs.
Message received, I gathered myself and dropped to my knees in front of her. The pungent smell of sex wafted across my nose. Bess reached over and picked up her panties. “Does puppy want a treatment?” she asked.
I nodded my head and opened my mouth. She pushed the panties under my nose, covering both my nose and mouth. I had no choice but to inhale her essence. Yes, the damp panties and their earthy aroma stirred something primary in me. She then shoved the panties into my open mouth. I sucked on them, tasting her, and then spit them on the floor. I couldn’t help but plumge my tongue into her beckoning wet muff.
“Good … puppy …” she choked out. Her eyes were closed and her head faced upwards towards the heavens. I felt pleasure in giving her pleasure. It was an act of submission for me. I made her cum over and over. She pushed me away when she couldn’t take it anymore. We were both a sweaty, happy, hot mess. Life would never be the same.
Chapter Two
Cole
Bess and I weren’t lovers. We were explorers. We explored the depths of my submissive tendencies. With our metr savings we were able to purchase a handful of toys — vibrators, nipple clamps, handcuffs and a paddle. We had fun trying them out on each other. It was clear that Bess wasn’t a submissive. She didn’t enjoy the clamps or the paddle. Anything pain inducing was a turn-off for her. But for me, these devices only confirmed what we already knew. I was a pain slut.
My innovation with Cole was shared by most of the women in our class. His confident manner and goodlooks continued to capture our attention (and hearts). He gave off a vibe that only I seemed to feel, sort of a dog whistle at a frequency only I could hear. What was it? I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was persistent and omnipresent. It was driving me crazy. Did he know that he had this effect on me?
His distractive qualities affected my work in his class. I couldn’t focus. I know This because the grade on my first quiz was a “C+.” When he handed my quiz back to me I did what every hormone woman would do. I cried. Twenty sets of eyes watched me, including Bess (who was sitting next to me) as the tears started flowing. I already had visions of fluunking out of college and becoming a slave to some sultan in some Middle Eastern country (which in retrospect sounded pretty appealing to me). I thought my life was over.
Then there was a ray of sunshine.
I felt a big hand on my shoulder. I looked up. He was looking down at me with those soft, baby blue eyes. A lock of hiscurly reddish brown hair fell on his forehead as he was leaning towards me. I was suddenly speechless.
Cole said in a firm voice, “Don’t worry Zoe, it’ll be all right.”
Suddenly it was all right. I stopped crying and looked at this tall, handsome man with the same eyes that I’ve looked at him a thousand times after — that dreamy star, through eyes that are vacant because I’m thinking about him. I just sat there, silent, knowing at that moment that he would be a big part of my life.
I’m fuzzy on the rest of that day. I’m not even sure what happened in class. Feeling his touch energized me in ways I wasn’t familiar with. I was processing this new sensing information, wondering what I was feeling. Bess did shake me a few times, asking me if I was OK. I told her I was.
It would be two more days before I had class with him again. The next day was dead dull. I was simply counting the minutes until I saw him, and those minutes dragged by as if an anchor was attachedto each of them. Food was tasteless to me. I fell into a restless sleep at night, replaying that moment in my mind when he touched me and thinking about what would happen in the next class.
The morning of his class I woke up on edge. What was I going to wear? What was I going to say? I attended the organic chemistry lesson and spent most of that time doodling his name over and over on a notepad. Then it was time for his class. Cole didn’t notice that I was wearing my favorite blouse with an extra button unbuttoned to showcase my cleavage and a short, tight skirt with heels that highlighted my legs. He walked past me as if I wasn’t there. My heart was in my feet. I spent the rest of that class wondering what I had done to become invisible to him once again.
Then, as class was ending, he said, “Zoe, could you stay after for a minute?”
He knew my name. He did know I was in his class. I suddenly perked up. I waited until everyone else left the room, including Bess. As the last person to leave, Bess kept looking back at me as if she was worried about me. I wasn’t worried. As Bess shut the door behind her I rose up out of my seat, smoothed my skirt, and walked confidently up to his desk. Cole was sitting on it with his legs dangling and the toes of his shoes scraping the floor.
“So Zoe, I sense there’s a connection between us,” he said, looking me in the eye.
“There is … Sir,” I said. My use of the word “Sir” was deliberate. If he wasn’t interested in potentially dominating me, he would take my formality as a sign of respect. If he was interested, I was clearly signaling it was my desire as well.
He stopped dangling his feet and lifted himself off the desk and onto the floor. He was now standing above me, looking down. “You called me Sir. Are you simply being formal with me, or is there something more?”
Now he had put the matter squarely in my lap. I needed to tell him what I wanted. I needed to take the risk that I had badlymisread our situation. “There is Sir.”
“How so?” he asked.
I replied with some tenativeness. This was not easy for me to say. Up till now, it had only been a secret between me and my best friend. “I’m looking for someone to tell me what to do … you know … in everything.”
He raised his eyesbrows. “Indeed … would everything include matters that are sexual in nature?”
I drew a big breath and then spit it out. “Especially matters that are sexual in nature, Sir.”
“Zoe, you may have sensed this about me. I’m experienced in relationships with women where I tell them what to do, including matters involving sex.” He paused for effect. “Could you knee Zoe?”
I did, not questioning why he would ask me to do such a thing. I looked at the floor, studying the random pattern in the wound linoleum tiles.
“Zoe, may I call you kitten?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Well then kitten, I’m going to teach you organic chemistry. You are going to ace the final. I’m notwriting the exam but I know the material better than anybody.”
“Yes Sir.”
“You are going to be my pet.”
“I would like that Sir.”
He must have seen that I had a puzzled expression on my face. “You don’t know what I mean, do you?”
“Not really Sir.”
“You are going to submit to me in every way I see fit.”
“Yes … Sir.”
Cole nodded his head with approval. I felt a warm glow about me. The same warm glow I felt after a good spanking.
“Sir, how did you know …”
“… that you are submissive?” he said, interrupting me and finishing my question for me. “Because I know these things. I could sense it when I put my hand on your shoulder. It feel right for my hand to be there. You addressing me as Sir confirmed my suspicions.”
“I …”
He put his finger to my lips.
“You will talk when I give you permission to talk. Is that understand? I need a verbal answer.”
“Yes Sir,” I answered critically.
“Good. Get up and come over here,” he said as he turned around to face the desk. “Let’s review the last quiz and I’ll tell you where you went wrong.”
We stood at his desk and spent the next hour going over the quiz. He showed me the textbook passages I needed to review again and went over the concepts to make sure I understand the theory behind the answers. I was grateful beyond words. His patience with me allowed me to absorbb the material in ways I wouldn’t have if I was left to study by myself. I wanted to kiss him, but he hadn’t given me permission.
After we ended the study session he made an invitation to me. “I’m going to have a few people over this weekend. Friends of mine who have the same interests as you and me. Would you like to attend?”
“Yes Sir,” I said enthusiastically.
“Good.” He gave me the address and the day and time. “I expect you to be punctual. You can wear something like what you have on now. I won’t ask you to do anything you’ll feel uncomfortable doing, but you will see some people that are practiced in the art of domination and submission. You can see for yourself if you want to go further with me.”
He kissed me on the cheek. I blushed.
“Now run along kitten. I’ll see you on Saturday,” he said. I walked out of the classroom floating on a cloud.
Chapter Three
The Party
This was my coming out party. I didn’t know it at the time, but Cole had told his friends that he had met somebody special and that he wanted them to meet me. He didn’t have a gathering on Friday that was already planned. He planned it after I accepted his invitation. I was going to be the main attention.
I took a ride share to his home, from my tacky apartment on the west side of town, the grungier side of the campus, to the tonier north side of town. The geography changed from fast food restaurants on busy city streets to long tree-lined boulevards flanked by expensive homes. I feel self-conscious in the ultra-mini Korean car I was riding in as we pulled up behind a shiny new Bentley that was a shade of blue as deep as the ocean. Cole was staying in a faculty member’s house. The owner had taken a year sabbatical to teach at another university. The home was lovely, a Tudor style English country house with all the acouttremes, including the ivy covered walls.
I stepped out of the car, tipping the driver, Then raised my head to see what looked like to me to be an English castle in the light of the half moon. The house boasted led glass windows with stained glass insets and exhaust wrong iron work on the window grilles. The path was brick, with grass in between instead of grout, leading up to a covered porch.
Cole welcomed me at the door, his hand gripping the brass door handle with the other extended to me. He grinned with that genenuine smile of affection when he saw me. I felt a weakness in my knees, and had to resist falling forward into his arms. He guided meinside to an opulent sitting room with plus velour brass studied furniture and thick oriental rugs with heavy velvet draws adorning the windows. There was a man and a woman sitting, sipping drinks, with two, nude, collared woman, kneeing in front of them.
“These are my good friends Lucien and Helene,” Cole said, pointing to them. The two friends sitting raised their drinks to me. No attention was paid to the collared women. Lucien looked to be in his 30’s, short and slender, well-dressed with a crisp white shirt, black slacks and European loafers that looked like slippers. Helene was a willowy strawberry blonde, probably of similar age, with classic high cheesebones and a radiant smile.
“So tell me,” asked Lucien, taking a sip of his drink, “Are you a student here?”
“I am, Sir,” I replied.
“Pre-med?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir.”
He laughed, as did Helene. “Cole seems to fancy pre-med students,” he said with a tinge of sarcasm.
“I wouldn’t know, Sir.”
“Don’t pay attention to him,” interjected Helene. “Sometimes he thinks he’s smarter than he really is.”
Cole chipped in, “Don’t pay any mind to either of them. They’re married and they are always trying to get on top of one another. I guess that’s what happens when a Dom marriage a Domme.”
Helene brought the conversation back to center. “Zoe, Cole’s told us about you. We’re pleased to meet you and can see that Cole made a wise choice.”
Somehow I was flattered by the remark. In some ways it was demeaning in treating me as chattel, but flattering in that she no doubt found me attractive and submissive. It was dawning on me that I would soon be at Cole’s feet like the two other collared women.
“So Zoe. Could you remove your clothes for us?” Cole asked, just as casually as if he was asking me to get him a glass of water.
“Here, Sir?” I replied.
“Of course, of course,” he said impatiently, making a rolling motion with his finger that means “get onwith it.”
I slowly unbuttoned my blouse, watching Lucien and Helene, with Cole behind me. I pulled it off and cast it aside defiantly, then unclasped my bra, letting it fall down my arms. I flicked it on top of my bloom, then stood taller to display my breasts more prominently. I looked down, meeting the eyes of the seated couple. They looked dispatched back dispatchately, their eyes travelling across my body, with me somehow wishing for their approval.
“Come closer, little one,” said Lucien, motioning me forward. He immediately established my place. I knew at that moment that I had lost my name. I didn’t care. I walked in front of him. He put his hand on the inside of my thigh, using his fingers to trace their way upward, and then placing his palm on my damp panties. He drew his hand back and ran it under his nose, inhaling deeply. He looked at me with a knowing smile.
“You’re excited little one. And that gets me excited too.” Lucien made a “come hither” motion with his finger to the woman kneeing in front of him, the first time anyone in the room acknowledged her existence. She had dishwater blonde hair, pale white skin and large, natural breasts. Still kneeing, she reached forward and unzipped the Dom’s pants and fished out his hardening cock.
“You know my slut loves it when I get excited, don’t you slut,” the Dom muttered.
“Yes, Master,” she replied. She bent over and without using her hands plunged his cock into her mouth until her lips were ensnared in his pubic hair. He leaned back on his sofa and surprised. Her long straight blond hair fall forward and her pendulous breasts swayed as her head started going up and down, worshiping his penis as if she was kneeling at the altar.
Helene watched with muted interest, now stroking the hair of her sub with her open palm. “Oh honey,” she said to her husband, “you seem to have taught her well.” Helene moved her knees slightly apart, motioning for her sub to move closer. The sub, a slight Asian woman with small breasts like mine and long, fine black hair, moved forward on her knees until she was close to her Mistress. Helene lifted her hips and the sub slipped off the Domme’s panties. The sub looked up at Helene, her dark almond shaped eyes standing out against her flawless porcelain skin. The Domme gave an almost imperceptible nod of the head, giving the sub permission to lick her. Helene refocused on her husband, who was in the throes of an orgasm.
Lucien didn’t reply to his wife’s compliment. He was preoccupied with his orgasm, as he grunted with each burst of cum into his sub’s mouth. She gripped his cock with her lips and moved upward, drawing out the remainder of his creamy discharge. I could see her throat ripple as she swallowed. Lucien reached forward and patted her on the head as she resumed her kneeing position in front of him.
Helene’s sub was now busy serving her Mistress. The Domme’s legs were wide open, revealing downy blonde pubic hair, nowmatted with her juices and her sub’s saliva. I could see Helene’s face controlling as the pleasure of her climax washed across her. I felt a great deal of wetness between my legs.
I was still standing in front of Lucien with my breasts exposed, but with a skirt, panties and heels on. I had been asked to strip so I resumed taking off my skirt. I dropped it to the floor, then hesitated. No one said anything, but I realized they were waiting for me to continue, so I inched my wet panties down, croouching over to take them off. I stood up straight to display my shaken pussy.
“Outstanding,” said Lucien. “We keep both of our sluts shacked.” He smiled with approval. Somehow that gave me a shiver of pleasure. My body was in sub mode even though my mind was still making the transition.
I turned my head to look at Cole, then I looked down at my shoes. He nodded. I kicked them off so now I was nude. I thought for a moment, then turned and knelt in front of him as if it was the mostnatural thing I had ever done. Cole bent over and put his hand on my shoulder, just like the first time I felt his touch.
“Well done, kitten,” he said. I felt a burst of energy and pleasure at the sound of his approval, though I tried to keep my face expressionless. It was if I was given the most powerful and pleasant drug in the world. I was hooked. My world shrunk. Suddenly the banter between Lucien and Helene became background noise, their voices becoming imperceptible to me. It was now just him and me.
Cole leaned down and kissed the top of my head, now bowed to him. “There’s so much to learn, kitten, and I’m going to enjoy every moment teaching you,” he whispered, but loud enough for me to hear. He put his hand under my chin, lifting it so I was looking into his eyes.
“You’re mine,” he said in a voice brimming with pride.
I so wanted to put my arms around his legs and hug him.
Chapter Four
The First Lesson — The Touch
The evening was short. After Cole claimed me he drove me home. Apparently the rental of the home came with the use of the cars, in this case a late model Jaguar. Its throaty roar somehow seemed an appropriate accommodation to the majestic houses we passed, one estate after another, as we gained speed.
“Ever been in a Jaguar, kitten?”
“No Sir,” I said, turning my head to face him.
“This one’s a beast. Let me take a little detour for a second,” he said, but not as a question.
He flicked the steering wheel and it made the speeding car turn abruptly right, though the car barely leaned (and at a far greater speed than I’ve ever taken a corner). He down shifted and hit the gas. The car leaves, as if it were the trademarked cat on the hood, slamming me into the back of my leather seat. The houses, set far back from the street, went by in a blur. Then he suddenly applied the brakes — hard — and the car barely dove forward as we came to an abrupt stop.He turned to me and said, “So kitten, I’m not even that good of a driver and this car makes me look like a professional.” Then he caught himself and rendered an apology. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t scare you,” he said, realizing that he had forgotten his manners.
“Please don’t be sorry Sir,” I replied. “I found the ride to be thrilling. Really Sir,” I said, trying to tell him that I would do anything for him, and for him to do something for me was pretty to me.
He found my street and pulled into the service driveway of my building. I naturally invited him up to my apartment and he naturally accepted. I knew that Bess was back home visiting her parents for the weekend and that I had the place to myself. We walked up two flights of stairs to my apartment, in a 1960’s building that had seen better days. He didn’t appear to be concerned about the gritty conditions, carrying a small duffel and navigating around a shaft of trash in the middle of the hallway. We got to my apartment door. He waited while I dug through my purse for the key. I pushed the door open and let him walk in first. The apartment was spartan, but at least it was clean.
“I know it’s crazy when you see two consenting adults acting like we are, isn’t it?” he observed as he stepped into the living room of the apartment.
“It is and it isn’t. For me, it feels as natural as putting on my favorite sweater,” I said, trying to assure him that I wanted this.
“That’s great,” he said. “Sometimes you’ve got to say, ‘what the fuck’.” Am I right kitten?”
“Yes Sir. ‘What the fuck,’ is why I’m about to knee in front of you Sir.” I then took off all of my clothes, leaving on my heels, and knelt in front of him.
“That’s good kitten,” he said, enjoying the verbal sparkling. “And speaking of ‘what the fuck’,” he said as he walked into my bedroom, “is this bedroom yours?”
“It is Sir.”
He throw the duffel on the bed, unzipped it, and pulled out a blindfold. “Put this on kitten.”
I put it on. My world went to black, and suddenly I felt a bit wobbly standing in my heels since I didn’t have my eyes to help me keep my bearings. I felt his hand steady me. I felt his fingers running though my hair, across my cheeks, down my neck and then encircling my nipples. It was strangely sensitive.
“Domination and submission isn’t just about whips and chains, kitten. It’s about us understanding each other’s bodies and what we find sexually stimulating. Do you find this stimulating?” he asked, as he used his finger to flick my nipple.
“Yes Sir. I feel like I want to jump out of my skin.”
“That’s good. I like the way you respond to my touch,” he said. I heard him rummaging through the duffel and then feel a feather tracing Along the underside of my breasts, its slow movement leaving a trail of goosebumps.
“Ooohhhhh,” I gasped as the tip of the feather ran along the inside of my thighs. “Sir,” I said breathlessly, ” this ticles …” He put his hand over my mouth.
“Kitten, no talking,” he admonished me. He continued tickling me, down to the soles of my feet. I knew I wasn’t supposed to talk, but what about laugh? The tickling was driving me crazy. He went up and down my body with the feather until I felt like a bowl of Jell-O. I bit my lip, suppressing my urge to laugh, until I felt a trickle of blood running down my chin. Then he stopped. It was as if he had let go of my hand and then dropped me off of a cliff. I was now in free fall. I had a raging need fueled by the ticket torture.
“You see kitten, domination can take all forms. It’s not all about pain. I can exercise control over you in a number of different ways. I rather enjoy the feather and it looks to me like you do as well. Tell me kitten, are you feeling in need of something?”
“Yes … yes Sir,” I said, spitting out the words as this uncomfortable prickly feeling was making me squirm.
“Do you know what you need kitten?” he asked, obviously knowing the answer but not telling me.
I had no idea what I needed, other than the fact that I needed to get rid of this prickly feeling. I could hardly stand still. My ankles were getting sore, standing and shaking in my heels. “I don’t Sir.”
A smile curled up on his face. “Would it be something like this?” He scraped his fingerprintnail lightly across my clip.
“Woahhhhhh,” I exceled as it felt like a lightning bolt went through me. Every pleasure receiver in my body was firing. He had literally struck a match and set me ablaze. I fell to my knees, then keeled over to the side. I was convulsing on the floor as an orgasm had taken my body hostage. My mind went blank, for how long I didn’t know.
“Time to get up kitten,” he said, again with the familiar hand on the shoulder. My blindfold had been removed. My eyes fluttered as I got my bearings.
“How long have I been out Sir?”
“About five minutes kitten. You looked like you could have slept all night.”
“Did I fail you Sir?” I was dreading the answer.
He beamed. “Of course not kitten. You passed with flying colors! I couldn’t believe how attuned you were to my touch.”
I was greatly relieved that I had pleased him. I didn’t know that he wanted to see how sensitive my body had become to his touch. This was going to be an interesting journey.
Chapter Five
The Second Lesson — The Punishment
Bess came back that Sunday night after I spent two days of tickling and touching with Cole. She rolled her bag into the apartment finding me played out on the sofa. Bess had a bag of groceries in her other arm, kicking the door shut with her foot.
“Looks like somebody’s been fucking all weekend,” Bess said in a voice tinged with envy. She walked back to the kitchen and left her roller in the hallway and the groceries on the counter.
I sat up on the sofa. “We didn’t fuck,” I said truthfully.
“Yeah, right,” she replied, as she walked back in the living room. “How could you not fuck that gorgeous man?”
“We have an understanding … ” I began, before Bess interrupted.
” … that you’re going to be his subbie?” she said, completing my thought. I did say that she was really smart.
“Yes.” I smiled like the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland.
“Wow,” said Bess, incredulous. “You’re going to be his sex slave?”
The smile melted off my face. “It’s a bit more complicated than that … “
” … no it’s not,” interrupted Bess again. “You’re going to do whatever he asks.”
“Well, yes, but …”
“Zoe, this isn’t playtime between you and me. This is for real. Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?”
I paused for a moment. “I don’t Bess. But I’m really not sure of anything. I’m not sure I want to be pre-med, I’m not sure I want to stay in Ohio after I graduate. I’ve got bigger things that I’m not sure of. I can tell you that the time I’ve spent withhim is like seeing the world in color instead of black and white. I wouldn’t give up this feeling for anything.”
Bess, who knew me so well, was thunderstruck by my statement. I’m sure she thought that our playtime over D/s was just a college fling and that I wasn’t really serious about this domination/submission thing. To hear me say that I was really going to commit to that lifestyle caught her off balance. “So, that means …”
” … that means I’m going to be Sir’s submissive …” it being my turn to complete her sentence.
“So you’re calling him Sir already?” Bess was knowledgeable enough to know that I had already submitted to him.
“Yes Bess. I do. And I want to.” I let that sink in.
“Well, congratulations I guess,” muttered Bess, confused by this sudden turn of events.
“Well, thanks, I guess,” I answered in response to her half-hearted prayer. I wanted her to understand that this was a true change in direction for me. “Bess, I can tell you that I’m happy now.”
Bess came through as a friend when she thought about the fact that it was the happiest she had ever seen me. “Zoe, I’m happy for you. I really am.” These were the heartfelt words from Bess that I wanted to hear.
“Thank you Bess.” I kissed her on the cheek.
I checked my phone. Cole was going to pick me up in thirty minutes and I had lost track of the time. I rifled through my closet and dresser to put together an acceptable outfit and cursed the fact that I didn’t have enough time to take a shower. I put on some fresh make-up and made it out to the lobby with one minute to spare. He had the Jaguar again curbside, with the top down, and he looked every bit the English country gentleman picking up his mistress. I opened the passenger door and bent over to look inside. Cole leaned on the steering wheel and cocked his head and aimed his disarming smile directly at me. I lost my balance and almost fell into the car as I got in. He gave a throaty laughh, then pulled away while I was still shutting my door.
“No Sir, I’m not. But they do make my legs look better.”
“That they do kitten. I love your legs. I’m thinking about what I’d like to do with your legs and that area in between them,” he said.
I wasn’t sure if he means what he said, but the mere possibility of that statement being true sent a shiver though me. “Thank you Sir. I … I … would welcome your exploration of my legs and what lies between,” I said loudly and unashamedly.
He chuckled softly, the sound lost to the wind but his face saying it all. “Soon enough kitten,” he said over the roar of the engine as we raced Around a corner. We arrived at his residence and he drove to the carriage house to the side and behind the main house. He backed the car into the dark bricked garage and shut off the engine. “Follow me,” he said as he opened his door.He walked outside the garage through its side door and made a left turn to the area behind the carriage house without looking back. He walked down a meandering path to a large wooden shed. I followed him inside. He flicked on a light switch, revealing what looked like a tool shed on one side with various garden implements and a riding lawn mower. But the other side had been cleared and there were a number of devices set up that were similar to ones I had seen in the videos I watched with Bess. I shuddered. Cole of course knew exactly the right thing to do and put his hand on my shoulder, the now sure fire way to get me to calm down.
“Relax kitten,” he said in a soothing voice. “I have no reason to punish you now. I just wanted to show this to you and explain each of the implements and what they’re intended to do.” He motioned for me to take off my clothes. I took them off and put them in a neighbor pile behind me. I stood up straight, better now at standing still in my heels.
“Now kitten, I’m going to show you the inspection position … ” he said, as he was running a finger along my arm as if he was testing it for dust. He stopped and thought for a moment. “Well kitten, it turns out that I’m going to have to punish you for being a bad girl.”
My posture drooped. This was not going to be good. “Why Sir, if I may ask.”
He thought again for a moment. “This is a bit more delicious. Shall we say that you haven’t bathed recently? Your skin was sticky to the touch.” I could swear that he curled his lip in disgust.
But he was right. I had gotten into a discussion with Bess and blew the time I was going to use to take a shower. “You are correct, Sir. I was pressed for time and didn’t take a shower today. I am so sorry, Sir.”
“This is where I’m supposed to say I’m sorry too, but I’m not. You had all day to take a shower and you obviously pissed away the time. That, in my book, is the action of a bad girl.”
“Yes Sir. I’m a bad girl anddeserve to be paid. Would it please you to punish me Sir?” I could hear myself asking someone else to inflict pain on me. But oddly it felt right. My experiences with Bess teach me that pain and pleasure were very good things and I was so hoping I would get that warm and fuzzy feeling again that day.
Cole picked up a wooden paddle that was hooked on the wall with a leather braided lanyard. He rubbed the face of the paddle with the palm of his hand, then smiled. “You’re in luck, kitten,” he said to me as if I’d won the lottery, “I like to work with wood and I made this paddle. I was saving it for someone like you.”
A cold chill went through me. I’d only experimented with Bess and not with a true Dom. I was about to be professionally paddled. The same questions that came up before came up again, swirling around in my mind. I wasn’t positive that I wanted this. My doubts did not influence the force of his swing. He had pushed me into a bent over position with one hand and with the other, gripping the paddle, he snapped his wrist and connected with my bare bottom with a resounding slap. I lurched forward, but not outrunning the pain — needs of pain that jabbed me in waves. He rubbed the paddle again with his palm and smiled. “This paddle is good. Weight feels right. How did it feel to you kitten?”
“It hurt Sir. It hurt a lot.” I simpled.
“It’s supposed to kitten. You’ve been a bad girl and bad girls have to be punished.” He then once more pushed me into a bent over position and I swear he hit me harder than the first time.
“Owwwwww!” I howled involuntarily. I tried to suppress a scream and was wholly unsuccessful. It fucking hurt bad. He rubbed my bottom with some lotion. It felt cool but didn’t put out the fire.
Cole hit me three more times, each stroke more intensity than the last. After a total of five I was a crying mess. It was all pain, all the time. I waited and prayed for the magic. And then it came. A warm glow startedin my toes and tingled in my legs as it fed off the pain. Soon I became a bubble causing cradron of want. A need so intense I was going to touch my dripping cunt in front of him and cum without his permission.
But Cole of course knew this. He knew that the pain inflicted with his paddle would have this effect on me. He also knew that I wanted him. And now it was his time to take me. He did. He pushed me into a sitting position on a padded spanking bench and had me watch as he undid his belt and trousers and let them drop to the floor. He kicked off his loafers and then his pants and pulled down his boxer shorts. His cock flopped out, already large and semi-erect. A drop of precum dripped from the tip. He could see me looking at his cock. “You can see that you arouse me kitten. Now use your mouth to make me hard.”
I only heard that I aroused him. The words after were unintelligible. I wanted to suck his cock anyway. I opened my mouth and dipped my head down, swirling my tongue around the mushroom head, lapping up his precum. I went down until I could feel the head pressing against the back of my throat, and then tried and failed to get it into and down my throat. I gagged, dripping a copious amount of spit on the floor. His penis went from semi-hard to fully erect, pulsing in my mouth. I tried again, gagging and retching and managing to get the head inside my throat.
“That’s good kitten,” he said breathlessly. “We’ll work on your deep throat technique later. Now lay down on the benchmark and raise your knees up.” I did as he asked. He was standing next to the benchmark, and pulled me towards him so my exposed sex was in line with his throbbing cock. He pulled on my thighs, pressing my drenched pussy against his member, impaling me to the hilt on its length.
“Ohhh,” I gasped as his cock cracked deeper than I’d ever experienced, literally taking the breath away from me. He stayed still, with his cock firmly inside me, where I could feel its throbbing heartbeat.
“Fuck me Sir,” I begged of him.
“Patience kitten,” he uttered softly. “I want to enjoy this moment.”
We stayed locked in this lover’s embrace for several more seconds, then he started thrusting, slowly at first, and then faster, whipping the two of us in a frenzy, with him pumping his hips and me pushing against his body to maximize his penetration. “Oh God, Sir, I’m going to cum,” I said, trying to stave off the inevitable.
“Wait kitten. Don’t cum until I tell you,” he said between thrusts. He pounded me harder, with me squealing that I couldn’t hold back. Suddenly he stopped, firing his load deep inside me, and then belatedly granting me permission.
“Cum kitten,” he said.
His magic words lifted me off the bed and into the ether, my mind short circuited with pleasure. I didn’t black out, but I lost track of time and space, floating in a vast sea of pleasure. My body convulsed on the benchmark, rocked by orgasm after orgasm with his cock remaining firmly embedded inside me. He then pulled out, him now kneeing next to the benchmark and me flat on my back on the benchmark. I could feel my temples throbbing as a small rivulet of his cum trickled down my thigh, pooling on the benchmark. We stayed like that for a minute, the only sounds being our labored breathing. He finally broke the silence.
“That’s a good girl,” he said, reaching over and twirling a lock of my hair around his finger.
To be continued …
Leave a Reply