First Steps 2

He sat at his desk, staring blankly at the calendar on the wall. Anyone looking at him would have thought that he was mindlessly daydreaming. But behind the apparently vacant stare his mind was carefully working over the memory of the events from the night before. There were so many images, so many emotions aroused by those images . . . he was trying to sort them all out . . . arrange them in some way that might make sense to him.

The house, he remembered, had been dimly lit when they entered. Small circles of light struggled valiantly to hold back the darkness that lurked at the edges. Figures he could not clearly identify moved through the shadows. They held each other’s hand tightly and moved somewhat tentatively down the hallway, both of them apprehensive even though they had agreed together to come here. Neither of them had ever been to a place like this before and did not know exactly what to expect. The woman who had greeted them led them toward a large wooden door at the end of the hall. They passed quietly from one pool of light to another but as they drew nearer to it, the door seemed, in his mind, to take on a meaning beyond being a physical barrier separating one space from another. He did not know what was on the other side, but he could feel a kind of nervous excitement welling up inside him and he sensed a similar current running through her. It was as if a kind of electricity was passing back and forth between them.

The woman opened the door and together they stepped over the threshold. A small group of 10 people . . . all couples, he noted . . . were already in the room and standing in a kind of semi-circle facing the other direction. Without a word, the woman closed the door and left them. Not quite sure what to do, but feeling as if he should take the lead, he led her toward where the others were standing. Silently, two couples stepped aside and made room for them. Keenly aware that no one else was talking, he simply nodded his thanks. In front of them a curtain drawn across the width of the room effectively hid whatever was behind it. An air of expectant uncertainty surrounded the group. His wife held his arm tightly and he patted the back of her hand in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. Actually, he had kept the contact brief because he did not want her to feel the slight tremble in his hand. The anticipation was having a disconcerting effect on him.

The curtain parted and everyone held his or her breath as it slowly opened. Several of the women gasped slightly at the scene that was revealed and he was a bit taken aback himself. There were two women and one man. The man was dressed in a robe; the women were completely naked. But it was not so much the nudity that made him feel slightly unsteady on his feet, though both women were very beautiful; it was the way the women were positioned. One of them was facing the wall and her arms were extended above her head. He could see that leather restraints that held her wrists were anchored in the wall. He allowed his eyes to move down her body, lingering for a moment on the swell of her ass, until he could see a matching set of restraints around her ankles. She was essentially staked to the wall in a spread-eagle position. The other woman was sitting in a wooden chair with a straight back. Her arms were drawn behind her in such a way that her breasts were thrust forward and he could see that the rope around her wrists had been tied to the chair. Her ankles were tied to the legs of the chair on either side so that her legs were spread apart. She was sitting to the side so that she did not block the view but she could also clearly see the other woman. The man stood next to a small table that held a variety of small whips, floggers, spankers, and phallic shaped objects of different sizes.

He felt the shiver that passed through his wife’s body as she surveyed the scene. It might be excitement, he thought, but he wondered if some of it wasn’t also fear. He could see some of that in the face of the woman in the chair and though he could not see the other woman’s face, he suspected it was there as well. The two emotions seemed to be mixing together in the woman’s eyes and a strange kind of thrill passed through him. He began to feel stirrings and shifted self-consciously in an attempt to hide the growing evidence. He looked at his wife’s face, afraid that she may have picked up on his arousal, but she was staring at the two women so intently that he realized that she was feeling something too. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. He noticed that the other couples had also drawn closer to one another as well. They all waited to see what would transpire.

The man deliberately took his time selecting an object from the table; the two women waited quietly. The one in the chair watched him closely, the other woman, unable to see, could only wonder. After handling several of the items in a manner that seemed almost to be fondling, he chose a leather flogger and moved behind the woman on the wall. Experimentally, he whipped the flogger through the air a time or two, appraising how it handled. When he snapped the inch wide leather straps so that they split the air, the resulting sound made everyone in the room jump. The woman standing up clinched the muscles in her ass and the backs of her legs in response. A small smile played at the edges of his mouth and he snapped the flogger again making contact this time with the woman’s soft flesh. She let out a stifled cry and a red stripe instantly appeared across both of her bare cheeks. Quickly, he flicked the flogger again and another streak appeared on the backs of her thighs, looking almost exactly like the image left by a lightning bolt that has seared the night sky. Two more blows in rapid succession left marks that seemed to reach out with tiny red fingers to join the others causing a bright flush to spread over the surface of her skin. The woman visibly strained at the binds that held her in place and as the leather of the flogger came down again her body began to undulate. The woman in the chair said nothing but watched with wide eyes. Her breasts were rising and falling rapidly with her breathing, her nipples were hard, and she raised her hips up off the chair slightly each time the leather slapped flesh.

The group watching stood mesmerized. He could not believe how incredibly erotic the scene unfolding before him was or how much it was arousing him. Watching the man using the flogger so expertly, and seemingly so effortlessly . . . seeing the red stripes appearing on the woman’s ass . . . the way she pulled against her restraints, not to get away, but to lean into each blow . . . the reaction of the other woman, clearly aroused and almost yearning for the same treatment . . . He could not help but be shocked and confused at the effect it was all having on him. He never would have thought it possible before, but he had actually begun to imagine that it was his hand wielding the flogger. In his mind, he saw his wife’s ass turning redder with each new blow. He wanted to put his hand on it and feel the heat. She was standing in front of him and without being conscious of doing it; he pulled her back and pressed himself against her soft curves. Oh, he thought, to be feeling that heat there where he was so very aroused. For her part, his wife eagerly pressed back. She jerked her hips with each new slap across the woman’s body and the contact only serve to excite him more. He noted that the other people in the room were also beginning to move against one another.

The man alternated between hard, solid strikes and light brushing ones in which the leather just kissed the woman’s skin. She had begun to moan aloud by this time and her body trembled and shook with the mixture of pain and pleasure she was feeling. The woman in the chair was trying desperately to bring her legs together so that she might gain some friction, but the ropes held her fast. She whimpered a bit but said nothing, although her arousal at being forced to witness the flogging when she obviously wanted so much to be feeling it was bringing out a flush on her body as well.

After an indeterminate amount of time, the man ceased swinging the flogger and let it hang loosely at his side. Picking up a vibrator from the table, he moved close to the woman on the wall. He paused for a moment, holding his hand over her cheeks in much the same way a man warms his hands over a fire. Then, very gently, he reached between her legs and placed the tip of the vibrator against her. She gasped and struggled to remain still. He held it there for a moment then turned it on and moved it up the length of her lips. Instantly, she screamed and began bucking through the orgasm that thundered through her body. Helpless to get away, she could only thrash against her restraints when he then slid the vibrator inside of her and began thrusting it rapidly in and out. Her screams bounced off of the walls and passed through the quivering bodies of her audience. After she had cum several more times, the man stopped and turned his attention to the seated one.

She sat, trembling, waiting to see what he would do. He walked over and stood directly in front of her. Then he took off his robe and it became immediately evident that he was greatly aroused as well. She stared wide-eyed at his hardness that was level with her face. He placed his hands on the back of her head and drew her forward until the tip of it touched her lips. She moaned and when he pressed, she opened her mouth and he slid in. Though she was completely unable to use her hands, she sucked him hungrily. He leaned his head back, stood on firmly planted feet and gave himself over to the pleasures of pulling her head down on him as he thrust forward.

Watching from the side, he put his hands on his wife’s hips and began thrusting, imagining that he was sliding in and out of her mouth that way. He marveled at the man’s complete control over the bound woman and her complete submission to him. He was taking his pleasure from her and she was gladly giving him all that she could. How many times he had wanted to do that very thing . . . just abandon himself to his own pleasure.

The man was thrusting his hips faster now. His legs were beginning to shake and it was clear that his climax was close. The woman was doing her best to keep him in her mouth though it clearly was not easy. The woman on the wall, having recovered a bit from her orgasms, had turned her head enough to watch and was licking her lips and moaning softly. Suddenly, the man’s body stiffened, he pulled himself free of the woman’s lips and came with a loud groan all over her face and breasts. As it hit her, she too, began to come, even though she had not been touched directly.

Watching the spectacle, he could almost feel the force of the orgasm himself and he was sure he heard a woman beside them cry out with her own pleasure. In the immediate aftermath of the explosion, there was a silence that was broken only by the sounds of raspy breathing from the onlookers and gasps from the man and two women. With each of them still in place, the curtain began to close. The small group stared at it for a moment. The air was charged with sexual tension . . . they could all feel it . . . but the intensity of what they had just witnessed made them feel intimidated and fearful. Being very careful to avoid any bodily contact with anyone other than their partner, they silently exited the room and walked down the hallway. It was as if any touch at all would spark something none of them was ready to handle.

He and his wife left the house on legs that were a little unsteady and walked to their car. Carefully he opened the door for her and helped her in, then got in as well and started the car. Neither of them had spoken a word since the scene had ended. They each seemed to be overwhelmed by it all. He was still incredibly aroused; he could not remember when he had been so hard for so long. She, too, had a slight flush on her face and seemed to be equally excited. He noticed from the corner of his eye how she squirmed on the seat and pressed her thighs tightly together. They drove in silence; each of them caught up in the memories of what they had seen.

Fortunately they did not have far to travel to reach their hotel. Once there, he helped her out of the car and with a growing urgency that they both were feeling, they walked rapidly to the building. The elevator seemed to be moving excruciatingly slow and he impatiently tapped his foot as the numbers above the door changed from one to another. She stood beside him, gripping her fingers tightly; as if afraid that if she let go of them they would move immediately to touch places on her body that should not be touched on an elevator. Finally the doors opened, they moved out into the hall and he fumbled in his pocket for the room key.

Once inside the room, he grabbed her, pulled her to him and began to practically tear her clothing from her body. Equally frantic, she returned his kisses passionately and struggled to unsnap his pants and release him. All of the lust that had been building during the evening broke over them and he pushed her against the wall and ripped open her blouse. Buttons flew across the room and bounced off the furniture as he buried his face between her breasts. Her hands found him and he groaned at the exquisiteness of it. He pushed her skirt up around her waist and reached for her panties. The sound of the material tearing as his fingers clawed at them seemed to inflame them both to new heights and when he thrust himself hard inside of her, she cried out and clung to him. Images flashed through his mind as he drove himself into her again and again . . . images of the two women naked and helpless . . . of the red stripes rising on the tender flesh . . . of the way the woman struggled against the restraints as her orgasms washed over her . . . of the look of fear and excitement in the other woman’s eyes when the man revealed himself to her . . . of the way she hungrily sucked on him, excited all the more because she was not able to resist or escape . . . of the way the man took each woman in turn, gave her pleasure and then abandoned himself to his own pleasure. The memory of how the man had exploded all over the woman’s face and breasts triggered his own explosion and he drove himself, almost savagely into his wife’s body. She had already slipped over the edge but rose rapidly to a peak again with him and together they screamed and were swept away.

When it was over, they slid trembling to the floor, arms and legs intertwined. Gradually, their ragged breathing eased and they clung to one another in a way that made their bodies seemed to mold into one. With an effort, since his strength seemed to be virtually gone, he managed to pull a blanket from where it lay on the couch and covered them both with it and they slept . . . exhausted by all they had seen and the explosive way in which it had affected them.

That had been two days ago, but he still could not shake the images from his mind or the arousal from his body. Although the pressures of everyday life had prohibited any more exploring since they had arrived home, he sensed that she felt it as well. He wondered what she thought of what they had seen. What was it about it that had excited her? Was it the women bound and helpless? Was it the way the man had taken control? Was it they way he had taken them . . . had, in fact, taken everyone in the room that night . . . and mastered them? The whole thing had definitely affected her because she had responded to his forcefulness at the hotel in a way that surprised him almost as much as the fact that he had been so forceful.

He shifted in his chair in an attempt to reposition himself inside his pants. It seemed like he was hard practically all the time anymore, and while he did enjoy the feeling of a strong erection, it could be embarrassing sometimes. The way the woman standing beside him in the elevator looked at him this morning, it had been apparent that she had noticed. Of course, the fact that she smiled and licked her lips lightly did not help his situation at all. Nor did it help when he began picturing her . . . strapped down . . . with red stripes across the backs of her thighs . . . shuddering through an orgasm as his fingers moved between her legs. He had sighed in relief when the doors opened and she walked off, though he continued to stare at her ass and imagine those cheeks red and warm until the closing of the doors again finally blocked his view.

He took a deep breath and tried again to think rationally about how he was feeling. He had not expected to be so affected by the D/s display they had seen. True, he had been curious, but he had never honestly spent anytime thinking about what it would be like. He understood that it was all about the power exchange between the Dominant and submissive, but he had never before considered the possibility that the idea of being a Dominant might appeal to him. Now, he realized, it appealed to him a great deal. He had found the power that the man had had when he swung the flogger extremely stimulating and when he thought again of the way the woman’s ass had reddened, he felt himself harden more. Fantasies . . . thoughts that he once would have considered dark and forbidden . . . had begun to invade his mind. He imagined his wife on her knees, hands bound behind her back, taking him in her mouth like the woman in the room that night. He closed his eyes and felt her lips sliding over the head, her tongue licking that sensitive spot. He felt himself giving the pleasure free rein and the pressure building . . .

The sudden ringing of the phone startled him from the fantasy. He quickly looked around, afraid someone had seen him and that he had been caught. To his relief the office was empty. He answered the phone in a voice that was thicker than he had intended. He cleared his throat and tried again, “Hello.” There was a silent pause on the other end of the line, as if the caller was trying to decide whether to speak or not. “Hi, it’s me,” it was his wife’s voice . . . tentative . . . almost shy. “I just called because I have been thinking . . .” she let the sentence trail off, sounding like she was not sure how to go on. “About what?” he asked her. “About the other night,” she said finally. “Yes?” he waited for her to say more. “Well, I know you are busy now, but I thought perhaps . . . well, I hoped that we could talk about it tonight . . . when you get home.” Another pause, then she said, “The kids will not be here. We will be alone.”

He did not answer right away . . . the images were swirling through his brain again . . . He could hear the uncertainty in her voice, feel it on the line. “Yes,” he said at last, “I think that would be a good idea.” A soft sigh of relief reached his ears from her end. “Okay,” she said, “I will see you tonight.” Silence again. “I love you, you know,” he told her, feeling for some reason that it was especially important for her to know it at that moment. “Yes, I know,” she answered, “I love you too.” He could hear the smile.

They said goodbye and he hung up the phone noticing the slight tremor in his hand. What did she want to talk about exactly? They had not spoken of what had happened at either the house or the hotel that night. A part of him had wondered if it was because she was embarrassed or maybe even ashamed. She had certainly seemed to be highly aroused at the time, but perhaps in the cold light of day she had had second thoughts. He had to admit to having felt some of that himself. He had never before been as assertive as he had been that night. It might have been too much. He had always tried so hard to be gentle and thoughtful and giving in their lovemaking. Her pleasure was extremely important to him, more important than his own was, in fact. But that night . . . well, after having seen the display at the house, he was caught up in something he had never felt before and he had taken her . . . hard and fast and even rough and his orgasm had nearly blinded him it had been so intense. It had shaken him then and it continued to do so now. Then he remembered how she had responded . . . how she had screamed and bucked her hips into him to meet his thrusts and the pressure he felt below increased once again. Good grief, he thought, at this rate he was never going to be able to get up from his desk again, or even walk upright, without everyone in the world seeing. With a deliberate effort he pushed the images to the back of his mind and tried to concentrate on getting some work done. At least it would help make the time go by more quickly.