First Encounter 40

I had met her through an Internet personal. I was a submissive guy who was searching for someone to make me her play toy. She was looking for the toy.

I had been submissive for as long as I could remember. As early as 4 or 5 I could remember seeing pictures of women in bondage on the covers of magazines like True Detective. The thing was, I identified with the women, I was the one who wanted to be tied up. Of course, at 5, what did I know about BDSM? All I knew was that when I tied myself up, or played Cops and Robbers, or Cowboys and Indians and was tied up, that I was excited. I didn't know it was sexual excitement until I reached my teens. My first masturbation fantasies involved me being kidnapped, used and abused by women, forced to serve their desires. I graduated to phone sex, then real time sessions with Mistresses.

In my early years, I had felt strange, and alone. This wasn't normal, was it? Worshiping a woman's boots, allowing her to whip me, to spank me like a little child. Subjugating my needs and desires to hers. There must be something terribly wrong with me, I thought. I allowed many women to beat me raw, to leave me broken and crying, while they told me how useless and worthless I was, offering no sympathy at all. I thought they were perfect. They were the dominants I had always read and fantasized about.

And yet, somehow, it felt wrong. It all came to a head one night when a Mistress decided to practice her single tail whip skills, or lack thereof, on me. I left her with tears in my eyes, barely able to walk. In the morning, I awoke with large ugly welts on my back, ass and flanks. Worse, I was pissing blood. A frightening trip to the Emergency Room (imagine the explanations), and I was told I had some kidney damage, but nothing that wouldn't heal in a few days...well, except for my psyche.

Of course, I never saw the whip wielding Domme again. For a long time, in fact, I interacted with no one. I was afraid...and miserable. I craved BDSM, craved submitting myself to another, but was too afraid of the embarrassment, and the inevitable hurt. I started slow, entering discussions on newsgroup pages, and chat rooms. I was amazed by what I learned. Submissives weren't useless pieces of shit...they were human beings! They had needs, just like the Dominant. As a submissive, I could set limits; I didn't have to do everything a Domme told me to, or allow myself to be hurt. Safe words! Safe, sane and consensual! Concepts that allowed me to venture back out.

I began to meet others to play with. Mistress Nicole was the first Domme I had met who actually laughed while she played, who didn't act as if I was a drain and bother. She taught me to respect myself, and let me know what a gift to her my submission was. I was brokenhearted when she moved out-of-state.

I had mostly subsisted on submitting to a succession of professional dominants since she had moved. Some were good, some were bad, but in the end, I always felt like "the clock was running," and I was intruding on their time.

Then I met Andrea.

I answered her Internet ad. It was one of many I'd answered before, usually with the pessimistic feeling that I would never hear anything from her. She was upfront about wanting an intelligent submissive, one who could write more than a two-sentence e-mail. She also made it clear she was looking for a Domme/sub relationship, a personal play toy. We started e-mailing back in forth. She said she was impressed by my answers and appreciated the way I shared my thoughts and insights with her. I hadn't thought about my experiences or analyzed them quite so thoroughly in quite a long time. We seemed to be on the same page and looking for the same things. We set a time to meet. We talked about having dinner, and when I asked her how long I should expect to stay out, she said, "Be ready to stay very, very late. You never know what might happen."

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I pulled into the parking lot of a large shopping center, and a car flashed its lights at me. I pulled up next to it, and got my first look at Mistress Andrea. She was more beautiful than I had imagined. In her eyes, I could see a devilish wickedness. As she rolled down her window, she threw me a beaming smile, "Hi, you must be David." she said.

"And you must be Andrea. I'm very delighted to meet you." I replied.

"Well then, why don't you get out of your car, and come over here into mine." I did as she asked. When I sat in the passenger seat, she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. She was dressed in a white silk blouse that amply showed off her cleavage, and gave me a glimpse of the black leather bra underneath, leather skirt, stockings and patent leather high heels, all in black. "I'm glad we're finally getting together. Do you want to go get something to eat?"

I agreed, and we went off to a small restaurant. While we ate, we talked about D/s and each of our experiences. Mistress Andrea had been submissive for a long time, but had found it went against her nature. She had learned much as a submissive, and knew the feelings and desires I was likely going through. She looked at BDSM as a teaching and learning experience, for both the Domme and submissive. She understood the trust I would place in her, and how she would need to earn that trust. "I can't just tell you 'Trust me' and expect you to do it," she explained, "I have to show it in actions. If you safe out and I don't honor that, how can you trust me? If you tell me you absolutely, positively don't want to do something, and I coerce you into it, what kind of trust will you have in me?" she explained.

Dinner was over, and we headed back out into the parking lot, and to her car. I walked around and opened her door, then went back to the other side and slid into the passenger seat. Mistress Andrea looked over at me, and put her hand on my thigh, "I'd really like to play with you tonight," she announced.

I licked my lips nervously, "I'd like that," I answered, and got a big smile in return.

"I was hoping you'd say that," she put the key in the ignition, and started the car. A change seemed to come over her as we left the parking lot. She didn't become a stone cold bitch, but her demeanor certainly become more like a superior addressing a subordinate. A Mistress speaking to her slave.

"We're going to go to my place, and I'm going to use you. I'm going to make you my slave, my slut, my whore. The rules are very simple. You will address me as Mistress or Mistress Andrea at all times. You will do anything I ask, when I ask it, or you will be punished," she smiled evilly, "Or I may just punish you because I feel like it. Your safe words are yellow - for slow down, and red - for stop." Her mood lightened, "I promise you, David, I will honor those. Don't be afraid to use them."

"Yes, Mistress Andrea," I answered softly.

"This is going to be so much fun," she gushed, "For both of us." She paused for a moment, "When we get to my place, you will open my door, and then follow me inside. Once inside, we're going to go into the living room. I will sit on the couch, and you will strip in front of me. The first thing I want to do is inspect my property."

She slowed the car as we pulled up in front of her home. I got out quickly, and walked around the car, opened her door, and took her hand, helping her out. I followed obediently behind her to the door. I followed her through it, down a short hallway, and into the living room, watching the sexy sway of her ass in front of me. She sat on the couch, and smiled up at me. "Well? Strip, slut." she ordered.

I quickly took off my clothes, and in short order, stood before her, completely naked, my rock hard cock jutting out. "Come closer," she said, beckoning with her index finger. She ran her hands over my cock and balls, "If you're very, very, very good, you may get to use this later," she said, running her finger from the base to my cock head, "You're very excited," she said, as she took a drop of precum onto her finger, and raised it to my lips, "Lick it off," she quietly commanded, as I sucked her finger into my mouth. Her hands wandered to my chest, and began play with my nipples, "Such small nipples," I gasped as she pinched them both. She laughed. It was deep and throaty, "And so very sensitive. That's going to be interesting later on. Turn around."

Her hands began to roam over my bottom. "Oh, this is a nice ass, " she reported, "but so white." She smacked me, "That's a little better, but I need it to be a lot redder." Her hand wandered over the left side of my hip, over the scar that was still there from the single tail. Her voice changed, it was one of concern, "Is this where she hit you with the whip?"

"Yes, Mistress Andrea."

She kissed it, and then moved her head around so she was looking up at me. "I will never do that to you," she said, and the depth of feeling in her voice and the emotion in her eyes was almost overwhelming. I knew then that any issues of trust were irrelevant. I would trust her to take me as far as she wanted.

Her hands returned to my ass. "Bend over and grab your ankles." As I did, she spread my ass cheeks apart, and I felt a finger run down my ass, to my virgin hole. "So, you've never been fucked?" she asked, "Never had your cherry popped?"

"No, Mistress. Nothing larger than a medium butt plug, about an inch-and-a-half around. Mistress Nicole said I was 'deep, but not very wide.' We were working on that when she moved away."

"I guess I'll just have to finish what she started." She sat back on the couch. "Turn back around and kneel in front of me." I knelt before her, and cast my eyes downward. She lifted my chin up, so that I was looking into her eyes. She just gazed at me for a moment. "I want you to look at me, David. You don't need to gaze at the floor." She gave me a gentle smile, "I want you to know, I'm not going to hurt you. I will keep you safe. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good," she said, letting go of my chin, "Show your submission to me by kissing the toe of each of my shoes once, and tell me you want to be mine."

I planted a kiss on the toe of each of her shoes. The smell was intoxicating, "Make me yours, Mistress Andrea."

She reached down and placed a collar around my neck. "This is a training collar, slave. You will wear it whenever you serve me. It signifies your submission to me, and my ownership of you." She stood up, towering over me, "Crawl on your hands and knees behind me. We're going to go into the bedroom."

I followed her down the hall and into the bedroom. It was obvious I had been set-up, not that I was complaining. Oh, I guess Mistress Andrea's bedroom could have always been decorated like a medieval sexual torture chamber, but somehow, I doubted it. Laid out on the king-sized bed in the center of the room were a set of ankle and wrist cuffs, floggers, crops and paddles. A chest of drawers was against one wall, with various straps on top. A few of the drawers were open, and I could see various implements, including clamps, clothespins, dildos and vibrators nestled inside of them. Just in front of the bed, hanging from ceiling hooks was a long bar, with eye bolts and snap hooks at each end. Mistress Andrea proceeded to place the ankle and wrist cuffs on me, then attached me to the bar, attaching a spreader bar to my ankles. She placed a blindfold over my eyes, and then tweaked a nipple, "Don't go anywhere," she laughed and I heard her walking out of the room.

My senses were hyper aware. I heard every creak and groan in the house. I could smell the slight scent of Mistress Andrea's perfume. However hyper acute my senses were, though, they weren't able to discern when she returned. She told me later that she had stood in the doorway for several minutes, just looking at me, seeing that I was under her control, that I was there to please her. I didn't know she was there until the feathery touch of her hand caressed my ass, making its way up my back, and removing the blindfold.

I caught my breath as I stared at her. She stood naked before me, except for the black thigh-high stockings and a pair of knee high leather stiletto heeled boots she had obviously changed into. Her coral colored nipples stood out proudly from her breasts, stiff and engorged with blood. The trimmed triangle of hair at her crotch glistened with moistness. She smiled wickedly, as she stepped forward, grabbed my cock and squeezed, "Like what you see, bitch? I can tell that you do." She reached over to the chest, removed a ball gag and placed it in my mouth, securing the strap behind my head. "Snap your fingers," I did, "That is now your safe word. Snap your fingers 3 times if it's too much."

She stepped over to the bed and picked up a flogger, swished it through the air experimentally. "First, I'm going to flog, paddle and crop you. Two reasons. First," she brought the flogger down with a "SWACK" upon my ass, and I moaned into the gag, "because I can't stand a pale...white...ass." She punctuated each word with a blow from the flogger. "And second, because I find it much better to get obedience later when I let you know what you can expect for disobedience."

Mistress Andrea then set about flogging my shoulders, back and ass. The only sounds in the room were the flogger hitting my skin and my moans. I like being flogged, especially on my back. When used by a true expert, and Mistress Andrea was, a Domme can get so many different sensations out of a flogger. It can be a dull, diffuse, sensation, that spreads over your entire back, kind of like a "thudding" sensation; it can be sharp and stingy; or somewhere in between. I was slowly beginning a descent into my own headspace, losing contact with the outside world. When I was all the way into that subspace, Mistress Andrea would be able to do anything to me - and I'd give her anything she asked.

"Much nicer," she observed, running her soft, cool hand over my, I was sure, reddened back and ass. She walked back around to the front of me, put the flogger on the bed, then turned and ran her hand along my cheek, "Doing okay, pet?"

"MMMffff," I said into the gag, nodding my head. She smiled, then turned and picked up what looked like a leather ping-pong paddle. She walked back behind me. I felt her rubbing the cool leather against my hot skin. I prepared myself for the blow when I felt it lift off my ass.

I screamed quietly into the gag when the blow landed, but it changed it into a high-pitched moan. A paddle has a distinctly different sensation from a flogger, just like a crop has a different sensation from either. A paddle, while it stings, does so over a much larger area. Thankfully, Mistress Andrea had warmed me up with the flogger first. I need that, and Mistress Andrea knew to work from a less intense to more intense sensory feeling as she took me deeper into myself. She rhythmically paddled my ass, a blow coming every 3 -- 4 seconds, alternating from one side to the other. Occasionally, she'd stop, and run her hand over my bottom, sending chills through me. She began to speed up the paddling, ending in a final crescendo of blows that left me crying out weakly.

"That was very good, pet," she whispered into my ear. "You took so much for me." She reached over to the bed and picked up a crop, "But it's not quite over yet."

She stood next to me, her legs straddling my side, one in front of me, one behind. She rubbed the crop along my ass, while her other hand ran up my chest and playfully stroked and pinched my nipple. Her nipples brushed against me as she slowly began cropping my ass, leaving pinpoints of sharp pain in its wake. The cropping was short. After only a few minutes, she threw the crop to the bed. Still standing next to me, she reached behind my head and undid the ball gag, removing it from my mouth. "Are you okay, pet?"

I knew I was in deep, since her voice seemed to come from far away. For me, subspace is like a drug. I can understand how addictive drugs must be, especially if they feel like this. I craved this feeling, and hadn't reached it with anyone else since Mistress Nicole. I'd been close, but never this deep. A sense of complete and utter calmness pervaded me. I felt like I was floating. "I'm fine, Mistress." I replied quietly.

Her fingers brushed my lips, and I could smell her scent, and taste her, "You make me so wet," she told me as I sucked and licked her juices off her fingers. She reached up above me, and released the wrist cuffs from the bar. She then reached down below, and released my ankles from the spreader bar. Mistress Andrea sat on the corner of the bed, "Kneel before me slave."

I knelt, and she tapped the toes of her boot against my cock and balls, causing a drop of precum to splatter on her boot, "Lick that off." She leaned back on her arms, as I worshiped her boot, "What am I going to do with you next?" she mused.

She just sat there for a few moments, watching me lick and kiss her boot. "You do that very well," she remarked, "But I think you're enjoying it a little too much." She stood up then, and beamed that wicked smile, "Time for my enjoyment...again. Get up here on the bed. On your back in the center." When I was lying there, she ordered me to spread out my arms and legs, and then secured me spread-eagled. My wrist cuffs were snap locked to eye hooks in the headboard. My ankle cuffs were tied by a length of rope which ran through a set of pulleys attached to the headboard above those eye hooks. Lastly, Mistress Andrea used two snap locks to attach to D-rings on either side of my collar, which in turn snapped onto another set of eye hooks in the headboard.

"You are such a beautiful and responsive little slut," she mused as she slid off the bed and made her way over to the chest of drawers. I couldn't see what she was doing. The way she had secured the collar left me no ability to turn my head, but I could hear her rummaging around, retrieving things. She was back by my side shortly, and put her implements on the bed. "Let's start with these," she said, holding up a pair of clover clamps before my face. She began to tweak and twist my nipples, then lowered her mouth to first one, then the other, licking it, sucking it, biting it. My nipples are very sensitive, and she was giggling as I writhed and moaned beneath her ministrations. "Ready?" was all she said, as she snapped them both on at once.

My back arched "AHHHHH!" I loudly moaned as they bit into my tender flesh.

"Breathe, David." I heard Mistress Andrea command, as her hand slid down and began caressing my balls, diverting my attention from the fire in my chest. Quietly, soothingly, she began speaking to me, "Breathe, it's okay. I just want you to keep them on for a few minutes. You'll make me so happy if you do." Her hand was stroking up and down my rock hard shaft now, and she laughed throatily, "It can't hurt too bad...you're hard and dripping my little bitch." After a moment, I heard her say, "Open your eyes, David. Look at me."

She was smiling, her face inches away from mine. I could see concern in her green eyes, but also longing and barely contained sexual energy. "Are you okay? Do you want me to take them off?"

I shook my head...or tried to anyway. "No...no, Mistress Andrea. I'm okay now."

She leaned down and kissed me, deeply, her tongue gliding over my teeth and tongue. I felt her sliding her pussy against my leg, "Do you feel that?" she asked, "Can you feel how absolutely soaked you're making me?"

"Yes." I could feel the wet trail she was leaving down my leg.

"I could cum right now...but I'm not going to. We still have much more to do. Are you ready to go on?"

"Oh god, yes, Mistress."

The hand that had been stroking my cock stopped. It was back seconds later, attaching clothespins to my cock and balls. I moaned, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as the nipple clamps had. For some reason or another, I'm not as sensitive down there. When Andrea had finished attaching 5 pins along my scrotum, and 2 on either side of my cock head, she began flicking all of the clamps at random with her fingers.