In The Beginning 25

The control. Giving up the control. I miss that. Letting you be the one to say move. See. Taste. Fuck. Cum. Now. Cum now you dirty slut.

How did it begin? I blame the internet. Late nights alone in the computer lab. I found online kink and thought "What? There are others like me?"

We all shared stories. We shared ideas. We got each other hot and aroused. Then we went off, Alone. Until you.

You.

You were different.

A couple of sentences and I knew. Something made me call you. Then visit.

That first time.

I'd had sex, I'd been fucked. This was different. This was what I wanted. This was what I had wanted, needed. This is what I had dreamt about since the first time my hand reached down between my legs. I was not alone.

The first was I came over was to see if we had chemistry in person. Awkward at first. We got take-out. Noodles. Chatted. Laughed. Hours. Had some wine to lighten the mood. It can be much harder in person to admit your darker side.

You had experience. I had none. There were rules. Rules? We had to lay down rules so nobody got hurt. I thought getting hurt was the point. Not quite that way, we cannot have anyone getting too hurt. I did not even know where to begin. I just wanted to let you own me. Take my body and fuck it, and suck it, and twist it, and turn it, and pinch it and burn it, and slam into it, and, and, and fill it, and empty it until I was gone. Until that ache was met. Until I was numb.

Rules first. No rape. No scars. Ok. Those sounded good. Umm...

Can I piss on you? Feed you my shit? Puke?

OK, my list just got longer. Nope, don't think that is my thing.

Ok, I think we need to slow this down. I had no idea. This is why there are rules.

I begin to understand.

I thought this was going to be simple. We had chatted online for hours, weeks. Finally a phone call, two, ten. Scheduling them late at night, certain I would be alone. Innocent conversation turning into lurid step by step guides. Promises of nothing until the next call. Promises of quick calls in the afternoon. Slipping into a restroom, slipping a finger into my pussy making sure I was wet. I was your naughty slut. I was your daytime librarian. Constant state of arousal. If the call was missed, if the finger was dry, punishment was promised.

Finally, we could meet. I begged. Pleaded. You needed me to wait until exams were over. I did. I made it through those fucking exams. Then we could meet. You were the smart one. You knew I would be gone as soon as I crossed your threshold.

Now we are here. I am learning the rules. I am seeing there are layers here.

For this you had told me what to wear. Long black skirt. Tall black boots. Thigh-Hi tights. Black shirt. Black bra. No makeup. Take a shower first. I was ready. I was out the door and on my way. That was the longest ride. Green line. Red line. A blur. Checking street names. Walking. Steps slowing. Heart racing. Two blocks up this way. Turn right. Then three blocks. First house. Go through gate. Ring bottom doorbell. Such clear instructions. Before I have entirely collected my thoughts the doorbell rings and I am making this list. This fucking list. Is fucking on the list?

The first night passes with talking, instruction. I need to learn. This needs to be safe, for both of us. There is chemistry. Chemistry you can taste in the air. How was this going to begin? After pancakes but before lunch? Have a bologna sandwich and then get down on all fours? You had only said you were in control. You were in charge. You would handle things. You knew when the time was right.

Finally it was time. You took my hand, and said those words, those words that would change everything about me, "Now I am in charge." You led me to the room. The room where everything would happen. Where so many things would happen. As we approached the doorway you asked if I was sure, I nodded my head, you said "Say it." I said I was sure and you handed me the collar. My first. I was yours. We walked into the room.

I remember wanting to run, throw up, fuck, eat, get a glass of water, and stop everything. How strange. I figured it would start with some kisses. Then you would ask me to suck your cock, I'd be bad and you'd spank me. I had read some books. I had chatted online. I could not have been more wrong.

I followed you across the room. "You fucking dirty slut." Slap. That first slap I will never forget. I almost came at once. You know how there can be defining moments in your life? My head rocked back. You grabbed both my hands into yours spun me around lifting my hands over my head and attaching them to something.

My hands were attached over head. You grabbed my skirt. Down. Shirt Ripped. Naked.

Now staring. Staring. Watching Waiting. An eternity. I see a wall. I feel your eyes. I have been waiting so long for this. Wet with anticipation. Fear.

You finally walk up behind me. Cup my breasts. Stroke nipples with your thumbs. Pinch. Harder. Pulling. "all mine" you say. One hand keeps stroking the hand starts sliding down. Finally reaching my mound. You place your palm over my whole vagina. Lightly touching. I moan.

You stroke the inside of my thighs. Up. You move to my lips as your other hand clamps down on a nipple. Your finger plunges in. Quickly your finger moves in and out as I strain to move with you. Finally your other hand moves down and rubs my clit. You tell me to cum for you. Within seconds I feel it building up inside. I need the release. "Cum my dirty slut" you whisper against my ear. As your finger moves faster and faster inside my pussy, your other hand circling and rubbing my clit I finally cum. Growling as I do.

You walk away. Leave me hanging there. "You will do just fine."

As I stand there. Dripping. Lesson one. Pain. Slap. Hand on ass. "You came. Now punishment. Then come again."

Routine is set. Then you need pain to come. Simple really. Training. Rewire the brain.

Slap. Slap. 20 slaps. My ass is red. sore. I will remember. Then you grab the vibrator. I come hard and fast. You undo the chains. Lay me down. Sponge me off. I sleep.