He came round the next night after a day of texts explaining what would happen to me. I spent the entire day panicking that my flat wasn’t perfect – everything had to be in it’s place, which with a child (who was at his fathers house that night) is near on impossible. Well I made it possible…the draw to do right by my new Dom was great even when he wasn’t with me and everytime I half did a task, I went back and did it perfectly feeling as though he was watching over me. I loved that but it meant that even before he arrived I could feel my heart beating a sometimes irregular beat which threatened to hurt my throat it was so heavy By the time he was in my flat my heart was on it’s way out through my mouth, so heavy were the thuds. I chose a simple strappy tea dress with buttoning down the front which only managed to highlight the activity going on in my chest. He came in and I stood back while he surveyed the room. “Very nice” he said…my heart exploded with elation. How was this near stranger having this effect on me? No one makes me want to clean my flat…I am not one of life’s tidier’s…I’d rather cuddle my son, paint my nails, write a blog or watch TV! Anything but sort and organise.
But that’s not such a bad side affect to having a Dom I suppose.
He led me into the bedroom and held me for the briefest of moments, but long enough for me to became aware again of my heart trying to escape my body. He pulled away and looked at me before placing his hand onto my heart and feeling its erratic beating. I was embarrassed I recall and looked down. And away from him. He kissed my forehead and knelt me down. He then pulled my hands gently behind my back and linked them on to the opposite elbow. “Have you eaten?” He asked me and I shock my head and said, “No Sir, I’ve been too distracted to even think about it. I’m not hungry.”
“You will eat later”, he commanded.
In truth I had been having oversized butterflies playing in my tummy all day at the thought of seeing him again, at the images I had built up in my head of what tonight would hold, and about this whole new world opening up to me. For some reason I didn’t want to express this…he’d felt and seen my heart pounding and heard my breathe, jagged at its every beat – that was enough of a give away as to my state of mind and growing feelings, for now.
Left kneeling there, he went into the lounge and order food to be delivered later on. The waiting made it worse…I looked down at my heart and realised I was physically breathless. The pounding was so huge it was somehow affecting my lungs’ ability to allow me to breathe and I even considered that I might be ill or about to have an asthema attack or faint. I was panicked by this new sensation of breathlessness and was relieved when he came back into the room as I realised I was just excited beyond anything I had ever felt and my body was simply reacting to that. He was opening me up to an experience no man had offered to me before, and as with your first time having sex, this was my first time as a real sub, or as much of one as you can be when you are just starting out and before the deeper emotion has developed between you both.
I knew there and then I didn’t just want s/D sex play, I wanted more than that. Needed it in fact. All that time on my own, holding my own life together, it made me realise that I wanted someone to rely on, but more than that, someone who could help me grow and learn and cherish myself and believe in myself. But first, I had see whether or not I could deal with the pain aspect.
I’d always loved to be spanked and name calling was a favourite. If a man called me ‘Little Slut’ in the heat of the moment then I was all his. But being specifically spanked as opposed to spanking-play during sex was new to me. He helped me up, sat on the bed and bent me over his knees so I was facing the full length mirror leaning against the wall.
He started stroking my backside and exploring it with his hands…it was all very relaxing until the first spank and my senses prickled and the adrenalin began to flood my veins. That was a very nice smack I remember thinking…lets see if he can keep that up. He could! Looking at me in the mirror, we locked eyes and he spanked me until I struggled to hold the gaze a moment longer, I was so turned on, and my eyes closed instinctively and my head dropped. “Head up” he commanded before venturing further and finding me soaking wet. He changing between spanking and playing with me until I could quite literally not take another moment…it was all SO good.
Fifteen minutes or so after we began, he picked me up, lay me on the bed and said “I wouldn’t normally do this but you took your first punishment so well that I’ll reward you”, before parking his tongue between my legs and not taking it away until he had made me come. Exhausted, elated, ecstatic, he rolled me on to my side, stroked my head and left me there while he went to get the food ready.
After 5 minutes or perhaps 5 years of wallowing in sleepy bliss, he came back in, lifted me up into his arms and carried me into the livingroom where he had laid out dinner. He placed me carefully in the seat and watched me for a moment.
“Is it over?” I asked.
“Yes” he said. I remember smiling and thinking, I did it and I could have physically dealt, easily, with so much more.
I am worthy and prepared for this lifestyle I thought.
After dinner that same evening, we sat on the sofa and chatted and kissed for two hours. We marvelled at how easy it was to just be together without the TV…just too kinks enjoying one anothers’ company, knowing that we each entirely accepted the other in all our non-vanilla glory.
“So what about you?” I asked. “Aside from enjoying spanking me, when do you get your release?” That clearly sparked something in his mind because next second I found my hand lazily stroking his beautiful, big cock. I couldn’t have been more thrilled to discover it – how perfect it was. And how yummy I soon discovered as I looked up into his eyes, as commanded, while sucking. When with the right man, this is one of my favourite past times, and as soon as I had swallowed up I found myself over his knees on the sofa with his fingers inside me working my g-spot. Oh what a fabulous discovery. It had been accidentally played with from time to time in my sexual past and I had always enjoyed the sensation but in his delicious hands it became the easiest route to an on-going, endless journey of pleasure – if he chose to keep going all night then so would the amazing sensations…making it my new favourite play – and in some ways, far better than just one clitoral orgasm.
His fingers soon found their way further up to his favourite area though. I’d never had a problem with ass play, in fact I quietly enjoyed it although I’d never be the first to mention it. If a man asked, I may or may not have allowed him to pay any attention to it – it depended on how my inner Little Slut was feeling at the time. Well apparently she was very happy and content almost immediately in his care because he spent a lot of up close and personal time there and she loved every second.
“Do you feel exposed?” he asked me at one point.
“No” I said, I feel safe.