First Time for Everything

Author's note: This particular story is about five percent fiction, ninety five percent nonfiction. There will be, I imagine, many more stories about this particular pair to come. Of course, no pun intended there. In the meantime perhaps I will look in and see what Teresa and her Master have been up to. No good, I am sure.

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Michael led the slave up the metal stairs to his door, opened it and bid her entry. The girl went willingly, doing her best not to show her anxieties or fears; she had acquired this new situation by way of being released by One she had served faithfully for several years. Lifestyle changes demanded that she be let go. The deal was simple: Find another to serve or one would be found for her. It had taken a very long time for her to find the man holding the door open for her, and the reality was that she had known a long time previous to this moment that her heart swelled with love and adoration of Michael. They had 'It', and both the black-clad Dominant and the slave knew it. It thrummed in the air around them.

The girl, Lynn, was overwhelmed to the point of tears as she climbed the interior stairs that led to the apartment in the turn-of-the-previous-century house nestled into a quiet section of the city. She could feel that her face was paler than it normally was, and without her realization the pallor was further enhanced by the purple color of her hair. Hiding the burning liquid leaking from her eyes was impossible. The moment that Michael demanded her attention he would see these tears. The man knew this one was prone to such emotions, and seemed accepting and kind enough about it. Somehow this frightened Lynn even more. Her mind reeled; this man was kind and warm...by no means the kind of handler she had become accustomed to. He demanded eye contact, and she had been well trained to keep her eyes averted. Terror welled within the slave's chest, and she hoped fervently that she could learn to change.

Lynn heard the outer door close, just as she reached the top of the interior stairs. She stood aside, head down, and waited for Michael to ascend to the hallway landing. When he arrived, he took her hand and lead her to a small parlor and seated her on a small stool-like chair. One could hardly move around the room, there was so much musical equipment. Her heart sank at this: she had for years held a strict No Musicians policy. The reality was, to her, that musicians tended to hurt those they came involved with, and hurt deeply.

The profession almost demanded such, she perceived. Lynn's existing terror doubled itself as she carefully reached out and traced the edge of an obviously well used cymbal on a nearby stand; some of her fears began to dissipate, albeit slightly, as she allowed herself to look around the room and found a variety of things she found comforting...things she could relate to...such as a Native American wall-hanging, a dreamcatcher, bookshelves, a computer stand, a small ceramic sculpture of Darth Vader. Her face flared crimson as she noticed that it was her own image being used as the wallpaper on the monitor of the laptop computer.

This surprised her for several reasons, and she realized yet another difference between this, her new Master, and the previous. The latter was a cold man, a man who kept Lynn a secret from every aspect of his life. A man who made perfectly clear that she was, for all intents and purposes, a toy, a hobby, nothing to be taken very seriously. For her to have appeared on the previous handler's computer wallpaper would have been as strange as seeing a kangaroo driving a pickup truck.

The slave nearly jumped out of her skin as Michael took a seat directly opposite her own, their knees touching as she sat, head bowed, hands folded in her lap. He lifted her chin with a gentleness that was alien to Lynn. Long moments passed in this manner, the silence in the room seemed deafening. Lynn could hear her pulse in her ears and realized she also felt slightly dizzy. Finally, the silence was broken as Michael began to speak to...No! her mind screamed...he was speaking WITH her! He was asking her questions, telling her things about himself. Michael touched on some of his expectations of her, and asked of her expectations of him. For a moment Lynn thought this was a trick of some sort, and then a strange inner sense of calm settled over her as she realized that there truly was a thing as a kinder, gentler Master, and that Michael was just this. Oh, certainly, he was firm, and this was something that Lynn needed and he was able and willing to provide. But he did it in a nice way that was still just a bit frightening because it was so very different to her.

Suddenly it occurred to Lynn: A scene had begun and she had not even been aware of it. Her heart felt as if it skipped a beat. After a while, the Dominant decided that Lynn seemed to be calming, seeing that her eyes had become dry and clear. Without realizing it, both people were having similar thoughts of the other. Both saw so much in the other's eyes, that it almost seemed the use of words was no longer needed. Michael stood, and took Lynn's hand. A gentle tug brought her to her feet, and she was drawn against the tall darkhaired man. He held her, stroked her hair, reassured her.

Without words, Michael guided the girl from the parlor and down the hall and into his room. There, he undressed for the first time his slave. Lynn trembled beneath his fingers, and Michael found this very pleasing. Her submission to him, her demeanor, the twitching of muscle under her skin, could not be feigned; he had seen such pitiful attempts. While the man was contemplating his own thoughts and ideas, Lynn was doing the same. Her eyes told her that he held her in regard, that he proceeded with caution for their mutual benefit. His touch told her that perhaps there was a reciprocal reverence forming, and she hoped she was not imagining the tension-charged air around them.

When his task at hand was complete, Michael placed his submissive upon his bed and stood in silence, regarding her. He saw she was again anxious and smiled, telling her wordlessly to be calm; that same kindness remained in his eyes as he joined Lynn and embraced her. When he felt her calming, he placed Lynn on her back and, remaining beside her, Michael held her hand down firmly over her head to the point that he could feel the mattress giving into the pressure. His other hand he kept busy, the long fingers teasing and tracing and gently pinching Lynn's erect nipples. Again, he was pleased with her physical response. Her struggles to keep quiet when a gasp or moan made its way to her lips saddened him a bit. He again realized how much damage there was to be undone with this girl, and in some way this aroused him almost as much as her response to him. It became his resolve to be her healer, her lover, her Master.

Michael eventually allowed his free hand to wander around the areas of Lynn's body that he could reach without releasing her wrists. Although still paying close attention to teasing her breasts, he did trail his fingers over her belly, her hips, her thighs, and eventually to the clean shaven and damp cleft of her sex. After what seemed to Lynn a very long time but in reality was not, Michael leaned close to her face, their noses nearly touching, and he whispered to her. "Let me have you." The girl nodded in a mute way and her thoughts raced. Oh, how she wanted to be had by him.

In moments Michael was free of his boots and all clothing, and he rejoined his pet. He liked the way she felt beneath him, and the way her back arched as he pressed down against her, the way her every muscle tremored, the way she bit at her lip to make an attempt at composure. When he again pinned her arms over her head, the girl was unable to keep herself quiet; a harsh, moaning gasp she emitted was all the invitation Michael needed.

He pushed his throbbing cock into the writhing, moaning, very aroused girl's wetness. Michael was shocked at just how very tight she was, but was even more pleased by it. Yes, she would do just fine for him, he thought. Barely did he begin to stroke her when he could feel the spasms within her. With both of his hands now holding her wrists, he leaned to her again, kissed her, and whispered two words that sent Lynn over the edge to her first orgasm. "Sexy girl,'' he said to her before moving down to bite her neck as she writhed and moaned and came beneath him.

Already, Michel was planning on the fun he would have with her when he put Lynn into bondage. The things they would both experience enticed him. It had taken him a long time to find a submissive who understood his needs, and he had absolutely no intention of rushing her, for not wanting to frighten her.

He continued to love her, manipulating the girl from time to time to take on a new position in his bed. Her willingness was sweet to him, her utter trust, everything. Yes, this was a good girl and he intended to keep her, and keep her for a very long time. Michael had yearned for this, searched quite literally the world over and he knew he found what he desired. His own arousal was becoming unbearable, and he wanted to give his pet a final orgasm...her previous orgasms were making him desire his own release; it was building within him at a rapid pace. "Do you want me to come in you?" he asked her, and she whispered back that yes, she did. That was all the encouragement he needed, and with a shuddering groan he released his orgasm. With every burst of his ejaculation, both of their moans became entangled with the other's. The new lovers ended their first true night together with mutual satisfaction, and simultaneously so.

As he held the trembling girl to him afterward, he decided that should she be willing, he would have her tattooed with his own personal glyph.

He knew that she would accept the offer, when he gave it.