"I am curious, but inexperienced. Could you tell me more?"
That's all it said. I get those sorts of replies to my ad on a bdsm personals site all the time. I figure it is some frustrated woman who is too afraid to actually make a move to the dark side of her fantasies. I am convinced all women have them, but for whatever reason they are afraid to act on them. (Every woman I've known who has acted on them with me was eventually glad, if irrevocably changed, by the way.) My reply was as usual a series of questions and directions.
"If you are truly interested, reply. Take your time, be explicit.
Give me a physical description; a photo would be nice too.
When did you discover your interest in D/s and how.
What experience do you have, if any?
Tell me how your desires manifest themselves. (i.e. fetishes, pornography, fantasy, etc.)
How bad to you need it?
Reply soon. I devote a great deal of time to my hobby. Someone else might take your place if you delay."
I am only seeing a couple of women right now, women I have known for quite some time, women who for various reasons it was impossible to have completely and I wanted someone fresh, someone a little less predictable, maybe someone a little dangerous, hence, my online ad.
It was a cool spring morning. I was pruning the euonymus that grows on the front brick of my home. I enjoy gardening very much. I am very proud of my efforts at landscaping. I take great pains to care for it. I find great satisfaction in arranging different plants, watching them grow, seeing how they change through the seasons. I am afraid my home sticks out from the rest of the neighborhood for it's lush flora. Neighbors are frequently complimenting it or asking questions about it. The neighborhood is mostly made of small cottage style homes, occupied by old single women whose husbands have died or left them, and yuppie couples just starting out who cannot yet afford the mansion of their dreams, but appreciate the charms of the traditional architecture.
"I am glad to see you cutting all that wildness from your house. I looks plumb snaky to me," croaked old Miss Crews, my next-door neighbor. She was the widow of a military man and her yard had all the charm of a military base, but at least she was a quiet neighbor and otherwise minded her own business.
"Don't worry it will grow back," I replied with a smile and turned my back to renew my efforts at cutting back the overgrown vines.
"I sure hope so," I heard another female voice say.
I turned and out by my mailbox was a young couple. They appeared to be in their late twenties or early thirties.
"I have really admired your home. We just moved in and I hope we can get our place to look this nice some day."
It was the young woman I heard. Her husband was fussing with is iPod trying to arrange the cords and ear buds. I walked out to the road.
"My name is Vicki, this is my husband Sam. We just moved in. We were out for a walk."
"Good to meet you. I am Michael. Welcome to the neighborhood," I replied, shaking Sam's hand. He grinned and acknowledged my handshake, but seemed to be pre-occupied with his iPod. Vicki asked me a few questions about the euonymus and they continued on their way.
The reply was quicker than I expected. Usually most women are never heard from again, once I ask them to do something. It is a problem that most women with submissive fantasies have. They are, by and large, just plain lazy, unwilling to perform the simplest task. It was clear by it's length she did as I asked and took her time. She described herself as thin, medium length blond hair, about five eight, 118 lb, small breasted. She said she had fantasies of being tied up and molested since she was a little girl. Her mother even caught her tying herself up and masturbating when she was thirteen, for which she was severely punished and even went to counseling. She said she didn't know where those fantasies came from. She described herself as completely without experience except for some experimentation with a boy in college that was very awkward. She said she fed her desires with internet porn sites that catered to BDSM interests and discovered that there were many other women like her and that is why she decided to take the first steps to making her fantasies real. She said she mostly masturbated to fantasies of being bound, punished, and forced to perform lewd sex acts. She apologized for not giving me a photo, but said she would some day.
I replied thanking her for following directions so well. I asked her for a phone number, and a nickname so we could chat online. She replied with a cell number, and gave me her screen name on AOL,
hopelesss
.
I chatted with her that afternoon on IM. We chatted enough for me to learn that she was aroused by dirty talk. She confessed to be excited merely by chatting with me, knowing she was finally in touch with someone who understood her. I made her masturbate while we chatted She asked me a lot of questions about my experiences with other women. Relating my experiences to her made her very hot. Even through the impersonal medium of instant messaging it was clear she was eager to hear all. I also got the impression that she was married or otherwise attached. When I asked about her experiences with other men she seemed to be talking about her current relationship more than men in her past. I didn't ask her if she was married or not. If she was talking with me it was clear it didn't matter. Besides, I didn't want to put her on the spot, at least not now, that would come later when I had her under my control, not now when it would be so easy for her to be scared away. Nonetheless, it was clear she was a woman in need of some serious fucking and the men she had known were not capable of satisfying her appetites. I was sure I could, now that I knew her better. Internet chatting is useful that way. Women feel safe describing their most private and twisted desires when chatting. They are usually embarrassed later but it is easy to reassure them that they are not at all undesirable and thereby gain their trust and increase their desire for you. She wasn't aware of it yet but she was giving me the very rope I needed to bind her.
It was late that night. I was getting ready to get in bed when the phone rang. It was Alexis. I have known Alexis for a long time. She is close to me age, forty-one, but we have know each other since the sixth grade. I was the first boy who ever, kissed her, and the first to tie her up! She was calling from my driveway on her cell phone.
"Hey, I am glad you haven't gone to sleep yet. I really want to see you."
"What is it Alexis? What do you need?"
There was a long silence.
"... you know me, you know how I am. Just let me see you," she whined.
"Okay come in. I'll unlock the door."
I didn't have to ask, I knew what she needed and I was more than happy to give it to her. The physical labor of working in my yard had increased my appetite for the pleasures of the weaker sex. Chatting with someone on the Internet is no substitute for more specific pleasures of the flesh.
Alexis has been married three times. She always marries some older guy with a big belly, a big wallet, and a three-inch cock. I guess it is her Catholic upbringing. She feels guilty about the way she is and she tries to compensate by marrying just the sort of fellow who is clumsy, and inept at sex. Alexis let herself in. She was wearing a short plaid skirt, mules with very high heels, and a tight sleeveless top. She had a sack in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
"I brought us something to drink. You like bourbon don't you?"
"You know I do. What have I told you about smoking?" I replied displeased.
She poured a drink of whisky straight. Her back was to me, but I could see her face in the mirror behind the bar.
"I know, I am sorry. I am bad, I am so bad," she whined and then she hung her head leaning on the bar as though exhausted.
