He pulled up a seat at the bar. He had an hour to kill. Butterflies jumping in his tummy and he knows his heart is jumping. Does the bartender know? Can he see the nervousness on his face? Trying to play it cool he order a bourdon.
His foot tapped on the rail of the bar. Is he really going to do this? Knowing he is, he smiles. This was what he wanted for so long. Waiting year and year, finally got the courage.
So fifty minutes to his meetup. Trying to keep his cool. Playing on his phone. Checking emails and texts on this beautiful summer afternoon. Listening to the staff chat and giggle. Time moves by slowly.
Playing on his phone helped kill the time. Now 30 minutes.
The bartender came by and got him a second drink. He was starting to feel relaxed. Texting a friend really helps with his fruitfulness.
He finally takes a good look at the place. It is pretty cool. Big large bar. A bunch of high tops and a raised stage for music. If he lived closer it could be a cool hangout place.
15 minutes and he is feeling good. Maybe the two drinks were a mistake. Maybe now. He takes a deep breath and is ready for this. Wherever the chips fall. He is hoping that this is just the first step. More meetups and play days. To long has he held back on this.
He finished his second drink and headed to the bathroom. His steps were not steady, but he was not swaying as he walked. He took care of his Business and washed his hands. His silver blonde hair parted to the side, still was in place. He always liked the way he looked in the button down gray and cream bowling shirt. A simple pant of jeans and brown dress boots made up the rest of his outfit.
He was ready. He walked out into the sun. It was bright and hurt his eyes. Walking down the block and around the corner they adjusted. Coming up to the buzzer he paused and then pushed the button and looked up at the camera.
The door buzzed open and he pulled it to him. There was a narrow landing that led to a set of stairs leading down to the left. The stairwell was painted in a dark gray, setting the mood perfectly. The metal handrail was cool to his touch and the metal trends rang out with each step.
At the bottom of the stairs he turned right and was greeted by a lovely lady. "I'm here for Lady Chloe," he said in a low, almost sweet voice.
"Excellent," was her cheer response. "Follow me." At this moment he was led quickly through the twists and turns of the downstairs dungeon. "Stand right here," she said, pointing at the floor.
"Yes ma'am," he replied again in a low hush tone. He did not have to wait long after she left for the door to open.
Standing in the dark hallway, the light from the room lit up the space when the door opened. He did not know what would happen, but he was surprised when she stepped to him with her arms open. "Hi there Matt," she said in a warm voice. Her Polish accent came through.
She was stunning. Standing only a few inches below his six foot frame. She oozes power. Her long blonde hair was the shining part of her look. A loose black top covered her large breasts. She wore a tight, short leather mini skirt. Her long legs raised in her black heels.
"Come in, come in," she ushered him. "Let's sit down," she motioned to the pink pleather loveseat. "Since this is your first time, let's chat about what you want and how this works." For the next five minutes they spoke about his experience and how she will handle the scene. As he was wondering when they were going to start, she ordered him to stand on the other side of the coffee table and strip.
He popped up from next to her and moved to the spot she commanded him to go. His boots were off first, neatly placed to the side. Next was his shirt. He pulled it over his head and half folded it. Putting it on the bench. His pants were next. Dropped and folded. Placed on top of the shirt. He stood in his underwear as she checked him out.
She smiled at him, then tapped on her lap. "Come lay across my lap." He was quick to comply. Holding off putting his full weight on her lap. He was scolded for this. "Put your weight on me boy. I can take you. Let's pull on those underwear so I can see that round ass." She pulled them down and started rubbing his ass.
Her hands felt amazing on his ass. So long has he wanted this. Then her hand came down. It was not a practice swing. It was a hard, I'm in charge and you will do what I say swing. It was not the only one. She hit and hit and hit his bare ass. Taking turns with each cheek. He tried to count in his head how many it was, but quickly lost count at 40, nothing it was useless. That his ass is going to be beat like never before.
She stopped hitting his ass and started rubbing it. "Your ass marks nicely," she said in her strong accent. Her voice fit perfectly to the scene in his head. "Your fair skin is turning red quickly. I'm not sure I'm going to use the paddle on you today. Let's try something else first."
Laying over her lap, he would do whatever she ordered at this moment. The sting on his ass reaffirming that. Next was the ruler. It bit into his ass, making him bite his lip. Not that the pain was too much. On the contrary, it was what he had been craving. Self impact can only take you so far. Knowing each hit that was coming. Only able to hit yourself so hard. This was different. The pain, not being an orgasmic pleasure, but a pleasure anyway.
She continued with her firm hand whacking his ass over and over. In between the multiple handfuls of smacks his ass received she would firmly rub his cheeks. Commenting on how red they are getting. How easy it is to mark his skin.
