By the time you arrived home, I was a mass of nerves and tension, but resigned to my fate.
You came through the front door, and I walked down to greet you – for one, because it is the courteous thing to do, and also because I wanted to stand in front of the bathroom doorknob and keep you from noticing the change in its structure.
When you came through the door, the entire atmosphere of the loft changed, like I had been far-sighted for my entire life and just put on glasses for the first time. This open, gorgeous apartment, the one I’d studied and absorbed as though my life depended upon it was no longer my place of rest. It was yours, your domain, and offered me now no safe place to avoid you if I wanted to hide.
You came through the door and fell into ownership again, of your loft and of our time. This was why I was here, to let go into this experience and see where it would take me, but it was a bit scary nonetheless.
There wasn’t a lot of time before I assumed we needed to leave for the restaurant, and since we hadn’t spoken a great deal in person yet, I wondered if you were going to spend more time ‘getting to know me’. I, of course, just wanted to start.
As it turns out, so did you.
We chatted for a very short while, and then you asked me to sit with you on the couch. You had the recorder and turned it on and I shivered. This recorder was stalwart; an unchanging symbol of the spanking about to come. The time had come.
You began with the preambles of the experienced. Getting the agreement on tape – I knew why I was here. I knew that I could stop you if I must. I understood my safewords and what they were. All on “the record” – in case I turned on you in the end and cried ‘abuse!’ An understandable safety precaution for someone that would be the cause of my suffering later that day.
I didn’t realize it yet, but it was also sufficient for the spanking in my immediate future, the sexually charged adventure that would have me sensitive for the rest of the day and wondering how big the world must be that I have never trod.
Within a matter of minutes, you had started the music, the infamous sound box and rug combination that protected your innocent neighbor’s ears from the perversity of your doings. You went into the bedroom and started to prepare and I followed, hesitating on the threshold and feeling out of place. I’d slept in that bed the night before, but now it was different, ominous and thrilling, and unknown.
You urged me in, and I slowly approached.
When you were ready, you sat on the edge of the bed and told me to bend over your knee. My will faltered. Inside my mind, I knew it was now or never and I froze in indecision. And my ever-present hesitation held ground…
Until you started counting! Then the spankee inside me, the natural and deep, raw side of me, responded and knew what to do. I moved quickly, and lowered myself, fully clothed over your lap.
And instead of spanking, you began to rub my bottom. I was not expecting this at all! And not just a bit of rubbing to get my bottom used to touch… you kept massaging me and telling me nice things – this was out of my comfort zone, unusual and unexpected. I lay, over the lap of a deep sadist wanting me to come to your apartment so that you could cause me the pain that I longed for, and you were choosing instead to touch me, knead my bottom and give me compliments I could not shrug off so easily anymore.
I was already excited – had been consistently excited for days. But now, I was feeling a warmth in my heart that opened me to those feelings more than I was prepared to deal with.
Finally, you gave me a short spanking over my cami’s. Just like the two warning swats the day before, I felt these strikes as pressure and heat, but it was lovely! The anxiety over what was coming subdued under my rising enjoyment.
Once I was sufficiently off-guard, you took of my pants, belt first, and had me over your lap again. This time, when you spanked me, I felt the sting. It combined with the excitement already built up inside of me and I was slowly becoming lost.
Then you took down my panties. You made a show of only lowering them to the very edge of my bottom, protecting my modesty – an act that had me suspicious… until you removed them all the way instead, saying, “I’m not really in a modesty-respecting mood today.”
I enjoyed your banter so much!
Completely bared, over your lap again, I let out another little “eep” sound. You asked me how much of that tiny noise was due to embarrassment, excitement, anxiety or something else.
I said, “I was going to say 50, 50, until you added the third thing!”
“Then is it 50, 50, 50?” you asked, making me laugh out right.
You were not just a man out to get some sex, or some spanking. You were many shades of twilight and dawn, and I was going to have a great time with you, every moment, every step of the way.
I gave in.
Then you spoke of your trust of me, leaving me alone in your apartment. Did I shudder? Did I hold my breath? Did I giggle? Because my thoughts went immediately to the switched doorknobs….
Bared, completely exposed, and waiting, I lay over your strong lap and felt your arm on my back. You were caressing my bottom and running your fingers everywhere… I don’t know if I squirmed or not, but certainly wanted to!
Then you said, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to spank you a little more now.”
This is what I wanted.
And you struck me, on my bare bottom, for the first time.
I doubted you were spanking me as hard as you could, but I was aware of the solid strength of your hand and arm, and this had me writhing inside, and my worry heightened for the evening’s spanking to come.
It was wonderful, the sting building in my bare bottom, the sensation of pain and pleasure, too intermingled to separate now.
You paused long enough to caress me some more, saying you wanted to give me pleasure too, but followed immediately by more hard hand spanking. I wanted to squeak or to banter, but feared that if I showed any reaction, you might slow down or soften.
Now, I know this would simply have inspired you further.
You stopped and told me how much you were going to enjoy strapping me later. How much it was going to hurt, and I was in heaven. Little did I know…
That’s when you told me to masturbate the first time…
Although it took some coaxing, I wanted to be coaxed. Being spanked over your knee, your hand punishing my bare bottom while I masturbated… even though I had trouble expressing myself before my visit, this was a rich fantasy of mine. Now that it was happening, I lost myself into it, feeling every strike of your hand and every tight, clenching shock of pleasure through my whole body.
It seemed to take forever, and yet the time was not time passing. It was time accepted, time swallowed, time taken by force.
I had imagined this a thousand times before, and it exceeded every fantasy. My body was on fire, alive and electric with shocks from your hard hand, spanking on and on, and my own sensitive flesh, burning with the mounting pleasure.
You were at the door to my inmost passion, and every spank was like a commanding knock. You would not be refused.
When I could no longer contain it, I knew in the back of my mind that I had to ask your permission, and it was hard! Not just the tiny prodding of my pride, but to concentrate enough to speak the words… but I did ask. You made me repeat my question louder, then gave me permission, and just that act alone – the fact that my obedience was required in this way – this sent me over the edge itself!
You spanked me non-stop for so long, as my excitement kept building and building, showing no sign of slowing down until after I had reached my peak and crested… breathing hard and riding every vibrant wave of sensation.
Calming down, I rested, unable to so much as move my own hand away from between my legs. I was afraid of changing position, afraid that my fingers would brush against my most private places again and set me off into another tailspin.
I was ecstatic, and moved. It was everything I could have hoped for and more.
This was the first, the first of many.
Soon you had me lie on my back, still naked, and I was unable to argue. For a few minutes, I moaned and responded to you, but my mind was not really there.
Then you said it, you wanted me to masturbate, again! Just laying there on my back, naked on your bed. I was nervous – what if I couldn’t do it a second time?
Once more, little did I know…
You still had to coax me, and I still felt safer under your guidance, more free to respond than to initiate. Your lead was direct and clear, strong and unyielding… exactly what I needed to become free in my own passion.
This time was different – it was unusual, since I started off feeling too weak to move, but unable to deny your commands. You spoke of the spanking I had coming that evening, lulling me with promises of pain, stroking my deepest desires with images of utter agony. Your sadism, your intense yearning to see me in absolute torment, this was my own fire. This connected to my own excitement and anticipation, fear and desire… and made my reaction undeniable.
It was harder to accomplish, this sexual fulfillment. But it was amazing, still, and echoes of your words and your true intent remained in my mind for the rest of the evening.
This time, I lay panting and completely beside myself. You encouraged me, telling me how proud you were of me, and I felt as though I’d run a marathon. I was proud of myself!
But I started to wonder at the one-sided nature of the afternoon that far. Later, you would reassure me that I had not been entirely selfish; that you had gained your own pleasure from my embrace of passion and sexuality.
Oh, how much I learned that afternoon!! About myself, about the nature of sexuality, about your own experience and dominance. I truly got far more than I expected with you, and still feel the throbbing of each intense experience in the beating of my heart today.
By the time we finished that afternoon, I was another person inside. Suddenly, I felt experienced and adept, sexy and somehow beautiful. Your sensual prodding, your rich, strong voice, your touch and your presence… I had no choice but to be undone with passion, as often as you wanted, in whatever way you commanded it.
But we had places to go, people to see…