Most people had already lost their virginity by the time they were the age I was when I met him. I'd been living on my own, working two part-time jobs, and was enlisted in the military. I'd never had the time or opportunity to pursue the kind of sex that was at the front of my mind, which was (and is) the decidedly kinky kind.
I can't remember a time in my life when sex wasn't inexplicably bound to the notion of someone having a BDSM level of control over the other. I wanted to dominate, but I didn't know where to begin, so I started visiting the local leather store.
I was fascinated by the gear that was displayed in glass cases and hanging from the walls. Gags, restraints, blindfolds, and impact toys; means for giving pleasure and implements of pain. These things were exhilarating to look at, and I wanted desperately, more even than to lose my virginity, to experience them in some way or another.
I had always been romantically attracted to women and never found myself lusting after an actual flesh-and-blood man. I knew that I wanted a submissive partner, but I also had fantasies occasionally about being overpowered. I'd started reading the Sleeping Beauty series about a group of royals who were made to experience servitude before being allowed to rule. My mind was opening up to what I needed to learn before I had any real ability to dominate. It also opened up my first real curiosity about what it would feel like to submit.
I went back to the leather store two to three times a week, checking the personal ads board that hung in the lobby for new index cards. I read every one of them, and none of them felt like they were looking for me, so I decided to write my own.
"Straight White Male seeking a female D/s play partner. Preferably someone who is interested in bondage. New to this and willing to learn with the right person."
I pulled a thumbtack from the corkboard and pressed it through the notecard, which I'd perforated with strips that had my number on them. I was nervous and excited about who might call and went into the store to look at what things they had.
I owned a single pair of leather restraint cuffs, but I wanted one of everything they had. I was staring into a glass case when a man came over and hovered, clearly looking for an opportunity to talk to me. There were some curious-looking devices that were meant for cock play of some type, but I wasn't sure exactly what; he saw me looking and seized the moment.
"The one in the front is a chastity belt. It stops you from touching yourself without your Master's permission," he said. I smiled and walked away without a word.
I checked my personal ad for any tabs torn off on the way out, but it was still full. I knew the action in a small city dictated that I be patient, but I felt the weight of having already waited for years.
I laid in bed that night, playing with myself to the thought of what that man might have made me do to get out if I'd allowed him to lock the chastity belt onto my cock. It wasn't what I was looking for though, and I had to think of something else to get myself off.
The next day, I surprisingly got a call about my ad. The voice on the other end definitely belonged to a man.
"I read your ad on the message board, and you said you were new to this and willing to try with the right person. Have you considered submitting to a Master?" he asked.
"No, I haven't," I said. It wasn't exactly true, though.
"It would be a good learning experience for you. We can go at the pace you are comfortable with and your limits will be respected."
I wondered for a moment if it was the man who had told me about the chastity belt, but the voice was gruffer, deeper than his had been.
"Did we speak in the store yesterday?" I asked.
"No, but I saw you put the ad up," he replied.
For the entire phone call, I felt like I was just seeing where the conversation would go. I wasn't sure I would actually go through with anything, but curiosity kept getting the better of me, so it continued on.
"What kinds of things are you into?"
"Master/slave protocol. Bondage. Edging. Those are my primary kinks. I have a collection of restraints and toys, and if you would like to come to my home, you can see them and we can have a discussion on which ones you would like to try if you decide to come back," he said.
What could it hurt, I thought? I go look at his toy collection, and I don't have to do anything then and there. I wasn't sure that I would feel anything other than awkward in this man's living room.
He gave me an address and picked a time for that afternoon. It was on a street with large houses in a nice part of town, not far from the leather store. I got to that area early and drove past his house once, trying to gauge who he was and what I was getting myself into.
It was a nondescript suburban house, which looked like every third house on the block. It had a well-manicured lawn and a new sedan in the driveway that was almost the same shade of tan as the aluminum siding. It didn't feel dangerous or seedy like I'd expected it to.
The interior front door was open, and I could see through the glass door into the living room, but I didn't see anyone. I parked at the end of the block, considering just leaving, but as the meeting time approached, I started the car and pulled into his driveway.
He was at the door before I was, and I studied his face as I walked up the sidewalk, and before I'd climbed the three steps, he opened the door and ushered me inside.
He was much older than I was, though how much I couldn't say for certain. Twenty years? Thirty? He had salt-and-pepper hair and a mustache, and I could smell his cologne when I walked into the living room.
He told me to sit down on the chair opposite him, and he asked me a few questions about myself, but I was slightly distracted looking at the restraints and toys on the coffee table.
He had collars and cock rings, ball spreaders, and leather restraints. He had gags and anal toys, and I'd never seen many of these things before, so I was turning them over in my head, trying to figure out what they did and how they would feel on my body.
