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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Alrighty y’all. I decided to continue the series, despite the negative rating for the prologue and first chapter. Thanks for those of you who left the positive comments encouraging me to continue. Hopefully, people will look beyond their perceptions of the title and actually read the story haha.
So, please comment and vote! Tell me what you think. Tell me what you like and don’t like. I just want to hear your feedback!
Thanks!
ShyReaderInOhio
*****
Chapter Two:
It had been five weeks since that fateful response to my ad, and far too many things had changed since then. I didn’t know what to do, and it was hard enough to simply keep my head above water. Which is, essentially, how I found myself in the waiting area of a local restaurant, nervously clutching my purse, pepper-spray resting in an easy access position right on top of everything else.
I was here a few minutes early. I wanted to scope out the area a bit before he got here so I could find escape paths if need be. Although he seemed very normal and interesting from our conversations, I knew I could hardly trust those to be an accurate predictor of his later behavior. Far too many people lie about who they are online. And yet, I’d still spent an absurd amount of time and stress in getting ready for this “date.” I had stood before the mirror, looking over my reflection for nearly half an hour, smoothing things down so they sat in the most flattering position possible.
I had tried to be very honest in my description of myself. I was not thin, but I was not fat. My thighs were spotted with cellulite and my hips unfortunately decorated themselves with stretch marks from a few too many carbohydrates. After the death of my late husband, I had taken to looking after myself far better. My exercise had paid off quite well, but the stretch marks and cellulite lingered.
My hair, though grey and bland now in my eyes, was a brilliant shade of red in color to those who could see it. Bright green eyes, a smattering of freckles, pale skin. I told him this, though it didn’t mean much to him. He’d never had his color, and I told him I hadn’t either. No use getting into it over a hookup.
I wore one of my dresses, though for the life of me, I can’t remember what color it is. It’s either red or green, but I can’t quite tell. I’d tried to go through and label all of my clothes after it happened, but it was too hard and I never finished. I knew my mother would have helped, but I’d shut both of my parents out something fierce after. We exchanged emails maybe once every two or three weeks, but that was the extent of it.
I had considered throwing on a pair of heels, but Mark had requested that I not. Apparently, he has a thing for short girls. At 5’2″, I certainly fit that role. It was a fairly simple request, and I knew it would increase his chances of liking me, so I slipped on flats instead.
I had layered thick bracelets on my wrists to cover up the scars, though Mark had said he preferred wrists he could grab on to with ease. While I wanted to make him happy, there were some things I didn’t want to get into, so I covered them and called it fine.
My hair was up in a curled pony-tail, his favorite fashion. He said he liked knowing there was something he could tug on, if it came to that, and the thought made me flush. My cheeks burned the entire time I was doing my hair. It was not an unpleasant sensation though, and ultimately the look finished off my outfit. After having kept my hair short for nearly my entire life, the longer hair felt sort of unnatural. I suppose that was the point, though.
Our conversations had been interesting, to say the least. I was almost convinced after the first one that this wasn’t right for me. However, Mark had asked me to bear with him, and so I decided to try. I’d asked him so many questions, and his patience is what ultimately made me really consider this. Additionally, he was so willing to have this be a one-off, and that is what I needed.
As I stood in the waiting room of the restaurant, I recalled the first set of emails we had exchanged.
Mark,
Hi. I’ll admit, you’ve made me a bit hesitant with the mention of BDSM. I don’t know much about it, other than it centers around pain and abuse, and I don’t think that’s right for me. But if I’ve learned anything, it’s to be willing to learn more about other people, and not make split second decisions. So I’m willing to at least consider it, though I reserve my right to back out at any time if I see fit to do so.
I do have a few questions, if you wouldn’t mind answering them for me. I suppose we can see where it goes from there.
1.What is our agreement with this type of relationship?
2.What kind of things would you expect from an encounter?
3.I honestly have no idea what to expect, can you just walk me through things?
I apologize for my ignorance.
Taylor
I’d felt humiliated upon pressing send. I’d thought for sure that I wouldn’t receive a response, that he’d laugh me off and go on his way. In some ways, illegal bahis that was sort of relieving to think of. But a pang of disappointment also followed, and I didn’t fully understand it.
His response came, and came much sooner than I could have thought possible. Glancing it over, I was surprised by its length as well. He had written:
Taylor,
Thank you for your honesty. It’s refreshing. I would be happy to answer any and all questions you have about the lifestyle. After all, all doms are different and all subs are different. Even once you’re familiar with the way I think about the lifestyle, it’s important to establish a lot of these basic fundamentals with any future relationship, even outside of the lifestyle.
First, as this will be a one-off encounter, it’s not exactly a relationship. Therefore, I do not have many expectations. You would be allowed to call things off with a safe word (basically, you say it, and all play stops immediately and we talk about what happened. It’s up to you if we continue after talking or not). Also, we’ll have to talk about your limits (the things you absolutely will not do) before we go much further into this. I suggest you do a bit of research if you haven’t, and find what things interest you and what things you definitely do not want to do.
As part of our arrangement, I expect confidentiality about our encounter. I do not need the world to know I participate in this lifestyle, and I assume you do not either. Therefore, we both promise to stay confidential about the nature of our relationship.
As to what would happen, that depends a great deal on you and I, and your limits and mine, and the balance we strike in our play. You will need to send me your limits before I can effectively walk you through things, however, I understand your concern. I can tell you a few things about how I anticipate it will go.
Though this will be essentially a hookup, I anticipate it being extended across a weekend. This would only happen if agreeable to you. You would come over Friday evening, and leave around Sunday evening, if all things go well.
You will be submissive to me in the bedroom, but not outside of it. You will be informed clearly of any time a scene is beginning. A scene is any encounter involving D/s play. I do not want to cripple your spirit and I want you to enjoy yourself and feel free to be who you are. There may be scenes that take place outside of the bedroom, but this will not happen without your express consent.
Everything we engage in will follow the typical lifestyle foundations of SSC—safe, sane, and consensual. Though this is only a hookup, I want your first experience with the lifestyle to be positive. I want you to feel safe, in your right state of mind, and know that nothing will happen that you do not want to happen.
I should inform you point blank that pain and domination will, of course, be a part of this encounter. The intensity of it will depend on your limits. I have a wide array of toys to use, depending on what your level of tolerance is. We will talk before I use any of them on you, so you’re aware of what each one is capable of for any future encounters you may have with them.
My style of domination might be a bit different from what you expect. I focus a lot less on pain than I do on a sort of mental domination. If you submit to me mentally, you’ll submit to me physically. Pain can help to access that mental submission, but there are plenty of other ways to access it as well. Again, it will depend on who you are and what your specific interests and kinks are. I would like you to include your kinks when you send me your limits.
Sorry for being so wordy. If you can’t tell, I focus a great deal on communication and making sure my submissive knows what she can expect and what is expected of her. Once you send me your limits and kinks, I will send you a more detailed explanation of what you might expect.
Also, I would like you to start thinking of a safe word. We will use the check-in system typical to the lifestyle (green-good, continue; yellow-slow down, approaching a limit, unsure/nervous, might need to talk or adjust; red-all play stops immediately, discussion ensues). However, I also want you to think of a safe word, as sometimes it helps a new submissive to feel more comfortable in their early encounters, and your comfort and safety is paramount.
I expect a response by the end of this upcoming week (Saturday before midnight), so you should have plenty of time to research and detail it out extensively. If I have any additional questions regarding your list, I will email them to you.
If you would like to end this, please email me to let me know. If not, I look forward to reading your list.
Mark
I almost sent back an email thanking him for his time but cutting it off. I’d typed it all up, sat there with my mouse hovering over the send button, then sighed and deleted it. I’m not sure what it was about his email, but I was definitely intrigued. The way he seemed to take charge was subtle, casino siteleri but also sort of obvious. I liked knowing exactly what he expected of me and what I could expect from him if I did so. It was pleasantly relaxing.
Over the next week, I had researched the lifestyle and all related things in my spare time. I tried to find out everything that I could. Some of it repulsed me, but some of it was shockingly arousing, and it really surprised me. By Friday night, I had what I considered to be a pretty comprehensive list of what he’d called my limits and kinks.
Mark
I put together my list. Let me know what else I need to do. They’re alphabetized, not in order of preference. I know many of these we won’t be able to do in the weekend, but I included them anyway. I hope that’s okay.
Soft Limits
Anal
Cages
Chastity belts
Gags
Public Play
Hard Limits
Bestiality
Choking/Suffocating
Drugs/Alcohol
Electricity
Knives
Needles
Permanent Markings/drawing blood
Rape fantasies
Sharing with anyone
Kinks
Bondage (light/medium)
Collars/Cuffs
Crops (?)
Hair pulling
Having food/clothes chosen for me
Nipple Clamps
Orgasm Denial/Control
Praise
Sensory Deprivation
Spanking
Speech Regulations
Taylor
Pressing send on that email had been one of the hardest things I could imagine, and I nearly backed out a billion times. However, I forced myself to relax, and I sent it.
I received his email Saturday morning.
Taylor,
Thank you. I thought you might send this in early, and I am quite pleased by the list you sent in. Any reason for the question mark next to crops? Also, how do you feel about name calling? (sweeter names or harsher names?). Please explain what you mean by speech regulations (not allowed to speak or being made to speak?).
Once I have your responses to these, I will detail more of what might happen between us.
Mark
Shivers raced down my spine as I read his email, going straight to my crotch. He was kind, but so straightforward. I liked the idea that I’d pleased him, and I smiled softly. I was buzzing all over, and I had no idea what was happening.
I quickly wrote him back
Mark,
I put the question mark next to crops because I’m interested by the idea of it but I don’t know if I will actually like it or not.
As for name calling- I really don’t know for sure what I like. It might help if you gave me examples of what you mean?
And with speech regulations—it depends on the situation. I like the idea of both, I suppose.
Anything else?
Taylor
Sending him emails was getting easier, so I suppose that was a good sign that I was adjusting to the idea of BDSM. His honesty was enticing, and I was rather excited to experience some of the things I wrote about.
Though I lived in color, my sex life with my husband was not even mildly exploratory. He was my first, my only, and though it was nice, it was just very straightforward and predictable. Reading about all of the things that could be included into a sexual encounter was shocking and flooded me with a million sensations.
I swear to god, I saw a flash of red for a heartbeat and a half, but it went away just as quickly.
His response came only a few minutes later.
Taylor,
Thank you for your timely response. I have a feeling this will work quite nicely, if you remain in agreement. For right now, I am quite pleased by you.
Examples of name calling. Well, the easiest way to illustrate it is to experiment with both while you’re in my presence. The fact that you enjoy speech regulation means part of your mental submission involves overcoming communication barriers, so I trust your body’s responses more than your verbal acknowledgement. I look forward to experimenting with it, as long as you’re amicable.
I will send you an example of a scene we might play out. I will try to be as detached as possible in my description of it, so you can think about it objectively. My goal is for you to feel safe right now, and I want you to know you’ll be safe beyond mere feelings of arousal.
Mark
Though he told me it would be detached, the flush in my cheeks and the shivers racing through my body when I read his description of a scene nearly a week later spoke volumes about my sexual preferences. Perhaps after our encounter, I would try to find an actual dom. Though it would not be a romantic relationship, I couldn’t imagine not having this in my life anymore. The sexual excitement was pulsing through me, making me feel alive though I did not see any color.
We exchanged emails over the next three weeks, culminating in where I was today. The restaurant, Friday just before 5:00. It was a bit early, so there were very few people here. I was grateful for the privacy this allowed me. It gave me time to collect my thoughts and breathe deeply several times.
5:00 poker siteleri rolled up and I tensed in anticipation. No one new came through the door. I let out a soft sigh. Had I been fooling myself this whole time? Did I really honestly think that something like this would happen to me? The man was probably a fake and I had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. My cheeks burned and stung.
Suddenly, there was movement to the side of me. A man around my age walked up to the hostesses stand. He was rather attractive, from what I could tell. Dark hair, a suit that he somehow made seem both powerful and casual. Maybe today wasn’t totally at a loss. I couldn’t tell much else about him, but his face and body was quite symmetrical, and it made me raise an eyebrow.
“Miss?” he asked the hostess, who’s head was down. She looked up at him, a blush coloring her cheeks.
“Yes Sir?” she responded, fidgeting with menus.
“I’m waiting for someone to join me at my table, she should be here around now. If she asks for Mark, would you be so kind as to send her back to where I’m seated?” He asked, his smooth cadence a sign of pure power and control. I felt shivers run down my spine again, and my breath caught in my throat. This was it.
I stepped forward, clearing my throat softly. Mark turned his head slightly, ignoring the hostess who was fumbling over her words to respond to his request.
He raised an eyebrow, and I ducked my head, unable to look him in the eye for some reason. I wasn’t normally this shy, but there was something about him that turned my insides to pure butterflies. “Taylor?” I heard that same smooth voice ask.
I peeked up at him, unable to find my voice fully. I just nodded. He smirked at me, extending his arm to me. “This way,” he told me, then turned to the hostess. “Thank you for your willingness to help, but I’m afraid it will no longer be necessary.”
I took his arm shyly, but he reached with his other hand, pressing my hand firmly down into his arm. I could feel the lean muscle under his suit, and I imagined that he would have quite an easy time overpowering me in any way shape or form. “You look stunning, Taylor. Your description of yourself does not do you justice.”
I struggled to find my voice. “I-um,” I stuttered for a moment.
“Use your words,” his firm voice floated over me, and I anchored myself to his strength.
“Thank you. You look very nice, yourself,” I responded with more confidence than I felt. He looked down at me, a half smile decorating his perfect face, and I ducked my head again. I kept it down as we walked to the table where he was seated. I wondered how long he’d been here before me.
He sat me down in one of the chairs, then seated himself across from me. We each had a glass of wine already, and I froze, slightly nervous. I’d mentioned no drugs or alcohol, but he must have assumed I meant during or around play only. I didn’t drink or do drugs of any sort at all.
I’d gone through a terrible phase where I tried to find my color by doing as many drugs and drinking as much alcohol as I could. It was one of the darkest periods of my life, and I had no desire to ever be tempted to join it again. Therefore, I did not drink and I did not do drugs, period. I was not willing to compromise on this.
I bit my lip shyly, unsure of how to tell him this. As I peeked at him through my eyelashes, he took a drink of his wine, a soft sigh leaving his mouth after. His eyes met mine, and I blushed again.
“Do you speak of your own accord?” He asked, a teasing lilt entering his voice. “I knew you had communication problems, but I didn’t expect you to be this shy.”
“I-um… I do speak. I just—I’m not sure how to say this, and I don’t want to be rude…” I let my voice drift off, the butterflies fluttering around again. He wouldn’t like me after this, I knew that much to be true.
Suddenly, his hand gripped my chin and lifted it up to meet his gaze, holding it there gently, but firmly. “Tell me.”
“I don’t drink,” I blurted out. Amusement danced in his eyes.
“Is that all?” He signaled a waitress to our table, and she made her way over quickly.
“Miss, would you mind exchanging this for a…” I felt Mark size me up a bit for a moment. “An Iced tea with a lemon?” He finished confidently.
The waitress quickly took the wine glass away, and I relaxed into my seat, a feeling of contentedness covering me. I did love iced tea, and since he’d ordered it, I realized it was what I would have ordered for myself, if given the chance.
“Thank you,” I said, finally meeting his eyes directly. They were kind right now, and they made me feel comfortable.
“Of course. This won’t work if we can’t communicate. Any allergies or food concerns that I ought to be aware of before we order dinner?” He asked.
“I don’t particularly like red sauce, and I abhor mushrooms. Spicy food makes me nauseous if it’s too hot,” I told him, relaxing into our roles a bit more. Things felt surprisingly normal, but also, wildly arousing. I tried to ignore the sensation in my crotch, the fluttering in my chest as he nodded and began to peruse the menu. I sat quietly. We’d agreed he would order for the both of us before I came tonight. I hadn’t expected him to be so accommodating, but I suppose it was a good thing that he was.
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