Rick was still riding the high on the restaurant scene as they strolled into the house. But he'd also been thinking it was time for some conversation. So he steered her into the formal dining room and sat her down near the corner of the large table. He sat at the head of the table angling their chairs so they were facing each other across the corner of the table. He drew her hands to the top of the table so he could hold them in his own. He didn't seem to be able to keep his hands off her.
Her expression was confused as she looked around the elegant, but normal dining area. He waited until her eyes settled on his and said, "We just need to talk."
"About what," she asked, willing but confused.
"Normally," he began, "when a dom and a sub come together, they negotiate some rules...set some boundaries."
"A dom?" she asked.
Realizing that this terminology about his lifestyle was unfamiliar to her, he slowed down. "I'm a dominant -- someone who becomes sexually aroused from bending another, a submissive, to his will. You are clearly a submissive -- someone who becomes sexually aroused by surrendering your will to another." He paused to watch her absorb his words...familiar words but with a whole new definition. He watched as she considered and agreed...watched her accept the label of submissive. Yes, she was a submissive. He watched her put it on as she might a garment in a dressing room...considering...did it fit? Did she like the way it looked? Then saw the moment that she not only accepted but embraced what she had known all her life -- she was a submissive.
"Then why do we need to negotiate?"
"D/s is only the beginning. There are tools that allow us to experience this power shift. They include, but are in no way limited to, sex, humiliation, bondage, pain, public displays...well the list is endless. Have you really never looked any of this up on the internet?" When she shook her head, he laughed and pulled his chair closer so he could touch her face. "You are such an innocent."
"I will," she suddenly asserted. "I'll learn everything I need to know about being a good...submissive," she tasted the word for the first time in her mouth, "whatever I need to know to make you happy."
"No," he commanded firmly, "no research, no websites, no chat rooms. I'll teach you what I want you to know."
"Oh good," she sighed wrapping her arms around his neck and allowing him to pull her into his lap. She curled there as content as a kitten. "I was hoping you'd say that." She began to nuzzle his neck, laying a stream of gentle wet kisses along his neck, slowly working her way up until she bit softly at his earlobe.
"All right," he laughed, standing up with her securely in his arms. "We'll just have to discover your limits along the way." When he reached the door to the basement, he simply threw her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry keeping one arm secured across her knees. When she squirmed, he gave her ass a firm swat. "Be still, he commanded, "it won't do either of us any good to fall down the stairs."
He set her on her feet outside the door to the dungeon. "Never," he said in his deep, serious voice, "do you ever enter the dungeon with clothes on."
"You want me to take off my clothes...right here?"
He didn't reply.
She swallowed, took a deep breath and then turned her back to him. Sliding her hair over her shoulder she presented her back and asked, "Would you unzip me? Please sir," she added softly.
He allowed his fingers to caress the soft skin at the top of her dress. Then, very slowly, lowered the zipper his warm fingers sliding down the naked flesh exposed as the zipper traveled down her spine. All too soon the journey ended at the small of her back, just as it curved out toward her ass. Slowly his hand traveled back up her spine. This time he dragged his nails lightly causing her to shiver and goose flesh to erupt in the wake of his hands. When he reached the top, he dropped his hand and waited.
She turned gracefully holding the bodice against her chest. Looking directly into his eyes she slid the thin straps down her shoulder releasing her arms one at a time. She gazed at him for a long moment then released the dress and allowed it to fall to her feet. Her eyes fell along with the dress, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She was entirely naked now except for her fuck-me shoes, strappy little sandals on absurdly high heels. She looked magnificent, a precious shade of pink, breasts swaying slightly as she trembled.
He drank her in for a few moments then commanded, "Step back." She obediently stepped out of the pool of fabric encircling her feet. "Pick up the dress." She bent to retrieve the garment her breasts falling and her ass lifting high into the air. As she straightened he indicated a convenient hook and said, "hang it there." She spent a few moments hanging the dress. Zipping the garment and fussily arranging it as she might a precious gown in her own closet. He allowed her this time knowing she was remembering what had happened in his dungeon the night before...building the anticipation before they stepped through the portal again. She bent to unclasp the shoes, but his sharp, "Leave them," had her straightening. She simply stood with her arms at her sides and looked at him. He unlocked the door and gestured her in.
"Please sir," she turned to face him quickly, as soon as they were inside. Her face was glowing with excitement as she asked "may I wear the cuffs?" It was his habit to place the cuffs immediately on any sub who walked through the door. In fact, he stored them near the door for exactly that reason. And while he was pleased that she already showed an affinity for the cuffs he didn't want her to get in the habit of topping from the bottom and felt he should nip this behavior in the bud. Fisting his hand in her hair he pushed until her knees gave and she was kneeling at his feet.
Making his voice as firm as possible he said, "I decide EVERYTHING that happens in my dungeon. Is that clear, bitch?"
"Ye...yes sir." Her voice was barely a whisper.
Lifting his foot he placed it very carefully on the bone above her breasts and pushed hard enough to knock her off her knees. Although he knew that he had very carefully not injured her. He also knew that she felt as if she'd been kicked to the ground -- which she had been. She lay there trembling in genuine fear now...not daring even to look up at him. "Now," he announced, "you must be punished."
"Get up," he said deliberately walking away and leaving her to get to her feet. He strolled to a cupboard and opened the door, pausing as he always did to absorb the aroma of well-oiled leather and to enjoy the sight of the neatly hung and arranged implements of his avocation. He chose a leather crop, one that was woven and had some heft. He knew this was a very thin line he must tread. He must give her more than she expected, but not more than she could tolerate. Since neither of them had any idea where that line was, he intended to be cautious. However, this was an important point. She could never be allowed, not even for a moment, be allowed to assert any domination over him. If she were, the dynamic would fail and she would search for another whom she could not dominate. He would never allow that to happen. He would hold her securely within her submission.
"You will not be bound as I know that arouses you and this is punishment. Come here," he commanded moving toward a table. It resembled a traditional massage table, with a padded top, but was equipped with variations. He chose it now only because it was handy and adequate. "Stand with your hips pressed against the table. Bend forward and stretch your body along the table top. Now stretch your arms out in front of you...nose on the table. Spread your legs ...further," he commanded until her torso lay in firm contact with the table and her feet were still firmly on the floor. The padded table top was cold, but he knew that wasn't the only reason she shivered. She knew that her ass was perfectly exposed and with her legs apart, she could feel the vulnerability of her naked and newly shaved pussy. He ruthlessly used her naiveté allowing her to believe he was genuinely angry.
He didn't touch, but just admired. With her face hidden he could allow the satisfaction to show. She was magnificent with her ass offered up to him. And he was as anxious to hurt her as he was to make her cum. He knew that made him an unusual Dom, the fact that he enjoyed her pleasure just as much as he enjoyed her pain. He knew himself well and understood that the pleasure/pain aspect of play was secondary to the power shift for him. He would cause her pain, when it kept him in control. And he would cause her pleasure when it kept him in control. The degree to which he was forced to go in either direction was really up to her.
Since this was her first punishment, he intended to err on the side of caution. He would strike her on only one cheek, but he would hit her hard enough to get her attention...and to leave a mark. He stepped up and ran a hand along that glorious ass. Of course she jumped at the contact of his hand on her skin. After tracing both those glorious globes he dipped a hand into her pussy. She moaned and tried to rub against his fingers. He immediately slapped her ass -- hard. A bright handprint glowed on her cheek. "Have you been given permission to move, bitch?" He asked harshly. "No you have not," he continued immediately. "Nor have you been given permission to speak, although moans and screams don't count as speech, so scream all you want." He knew that an admonition to scream would only heighten her fear.
He brought the crop to her face...rubbing it against her cheeks and lips. This allowed her to feel the textured finish and to smell the leather, but mostly it heightened her anticipation and fear. "You will receive 5 blows with the crop. Each will be precisely in the same place as the last. Yes, sweetheart, I'm very good at this. You will not move. Do I make myself clear."
"Yes sir," her voice was muffled her face pressed to the table.
