Nancy "Karen" Lyman was the first woman I ever fucked. I'd had sex with several other girls, but never with someone older than me—and married. Since seducing me—well, actually
I
seduced
her
with a ten-page paper she'd assigned me on the person I'd most like to meet—we'd managed to get together for she liked to call "rough sex" about twice a month. Her husband, a successful architect, traveled a lot and whenever he was out of town, Karen would use our code to signal me what day and time to meet her at her home.
Although I'd never even heard of "rough sex" before, the concept intrigued me and I found myself looking forward to the lovemaking session that were more like bouts of legalized torture as Mrs. Lyman begged me to choke, spank, and humiliate her verbally. After our last meeting, I decided to educate myself on the topic and found myself in the seediest part of Seattle's Capitol Hill district in an adult bookstore. Since this was before the days of the internet, it was as simple as "Googling" a subject and finding endless information complete with photos and videos to explain it from soup to nuts.
After wandering through the endless maze of video cassettes, dildos, and other sex toys, the first book I saw caught my attention. On the cover was a man holding a leather leash in his hand which was attached to the ring on a beautiful woman's collar. Her hands were tied behind her back and she was on her knees looking up at the man whose back was turned toward me. The title was "The Joys of Domination and Submission" and was in a section entitled "BDSM." I'd never heard that acronym either, but as I reached for the book I determined to find out not only what it meant, but to learn everything I could about this strangely erotic new topic.
As most anyone would do, I flipped immediately to the photo section in the middle where some 30 black and white pictures told me as much as the rest of the book was. I was enthralled as I watched the man on the front cover take this woman from what I learned was called a "vanilla" lifestyle into the world of Bondage, Discipline, Sadism, and Masochism. I learned within minutes that was a "top", someone who preferred to dominate and control the relationship as opposed to a submissive "bottom." I felt a wave of panic as I wondered if Karen might actually be a top, as well. I was relieved to learn some people were "switches" and could be comfortable role playing either side. I also knew instinctively that could never be me. The thought of a woman telling me what to do was unthinkable while the power of controlling her was alluring beyond words.
My cock was rock hard as I quietly paid for the book and went outside to my car where I began reading in earnest. I was taken by all of the possibilities that existed for any two (or more) people willing to engage in this kind of lifestyle. At this point, the concept of "ownership" interested me most. I found myself flipping through pages to find out all I could about how to initiate a master/slave relationship and actually came in my jeans when I read about collaring a slave. I was so caught up in what I was reading that I was unaware of anyone or anything around me as I sheepishly reached for some Kleenex tissues to clean up my mess.
Cumming broke the spell long enough for me to drive back home and recharge my batteries in time to do some reading. I decided I could learn the details as I went along knowing all I needed to do was listen to myself to find out where I wanted this to take me. I didn't have to understand everything today or even this month. I just needed to know what I wanted to do next. I did...
I made the decision to first of all take control of the relationship. As with the original assignment, the worst that could happen is being told, "I can't take those kinds of risks. I have to know he'll be out of town and that it's safe." That wasn't good enough for me anymore and if I couldn't make Karen my slave, I'd find a woman I could. I had no doubt about my ability to attract girls or women and I was determined to have my own slave at some point in the near future. With that in mind, I left the house again to find the perfect collars with which to bind my property.
I drove all the way back into Seattle to find a suitable first collar and leash at the same store where I'd bought the book. I settled on one that was two inches wide with a series of silver spikes and a large D-ring for attaching her leash. I also knew that for her to be collared 24-7, I'd have to have collars she could wear to work and that meant a stop at the mall to find a handful of chokers that I liked and that could serve as public substitutes for her real leather collar. While I was there, I took notice of several things that made my steel shaft turn into titanium. The most interesting was a leather hood that zipped in the back. I also saw a bustier and hand restraints. "Shit," I said half out loud, "I'm gonna have to pick up some extra hours to pay for all this." Smiling, I knew the overtime would be well worth it.
I found a large selection of chokers at Nordstroms and picked up seven of them—one for each day of the week. I picked out a black one with a black and white cameo with a dog's face on it, a plain dark red one, one that was cream colored and made of silk, along with one that was white with a black pearl mounted on a white background, a powder-blue style with a teardrop pearl, and two others to round out my selection. As I walked through the parking lot toward my car I began to see every attractive woman dressed in leather and wearing my collar. I nearly came again as I slid into the front seat and tossed the plastic shopping bag into the front seat. While I still preferred knit tops and form-fitting sweaters, I knew that all the slaves I'd seen in the book wore leather. Still, I knew that as long as I was her master, she'd wear what I wanted and when I wanted it. Satisfied with the first part of my plan, I headed back home to put phase 2 into action.
School now presented unique challenges. Pretending not to notice the woman I was fucking was an incredibly difficult feat to accomplish. I knew it was equally hard for Karen because she had the added pressures of job loss, divorce, and public humiliation. I smiled as I thought of her secretly getting turned on by the humiliation! I decided that morning I would take charge of the relationship and at the end of English class I waited until everyone left before casually handing Karen a slip of paper that said only "M7p here." That meant tonight in this room at 7pm. It would be dark and the custodians would be finished with their work leaving us alone and giving me time to establish my dominance in this once co-equal relationship.
I returned to campus around 6:50pm and noticed Karen's car still parked where I'd seen it at 2:45 when I left school. I walked past the gym and down the breezeway to her room which faced the athletic field. I saw the lights still on and Karen at her desk grading papers.
"Hi, handsome," she said. "Do you know how crazy dangerous this is? I thought I made it clear that
I
set the times and places for these meetings. Did you forget that little detail, Cal?"
"Hi to you, too," I said as I approached her desk, took her hand, lifted her up, and kissed her deeply and passionately letting my rock-hard cock push up against her hips. "Miss me?" I teased.
"You know I did but we can not do this, Cal. Not now. Not ever. This puts me at risk and..."
