Submissive Beth

This is my first attempt at writing BDSM from a woman's point of view. Beth has helped me with it, so in many ways it really is Beth speaking...

David was not my first lover, of course. At 28, I had had my share of experiences. I was married for three and one-half years to a man who turned out to be a womanizer. After the divorce I moped around for several years, dating from time to time, but never really finding anyone who, shall we say, could float my boat. That's when David walked into my life. Recently divorced himself, I was scared that both of us were merely seeking companionship "on the rebound."

We hit it off nicely from the very beginning. David was caring and thoughtful. Not a pretentious bone in his body. Nor was he pushy. We had three dates before he even kissed me. He was a world-class kisser, and that alone drew me toward him. I had always hated guys whose first kiss was a tonguey intrusion of my mouth. David was just the opposite. His kiss was soft, but he pursued my lips with a growing firmness that spoke, without words, of a passion beneath his somewhat shy exterior. He wasn't grabby either. His first sexual touch, I think it was on the fifth date, amounted to no more than an "accidental" brush of his hand across the front of my breast. That had always been a turn-on for me, and when I moaned just loud enough for him to hear following the "accident," he needed no more signs that I was a willing partner.

For months our sex was pure "vanilla," but it was enjoyable simply because David was such a caring lover. My sexual needs seemed more important to him than his own. His foreplay often lasted for almost an hour, and by the time we were naked and ready, I was so hot (and wet) that I often came within minutes of his entry. He had such delightfully soft touches that I melted just by being next to him and feeling his fingers lightly brush across my brow. I loved the way he gently scratched the top of my thigh over my skirt or pants while we watched television. Maybe the thing I liked most about him was his pure stamina—a half hour into our love-making he was still engrossed in his pursuits and seeking more. More than once we made love for over an hour and I was rewarded by multiple orgasms that brought the proverbial stars before my eyes.

We discussed sex often. I have always felt that communication is vital to any relationship. Only in passing did he even mention his feelings about BDSM. When I confided to him sometime later that I had been turned on by the "Beauty" series of S&M, literature, his interest perked.

"That surprises me," he said.

"That I was turned on by men and women being severely punished?" I asked.

"Yes. It just doesn't seem to be part of your nature."

I looked at him coyly. "There are probably a lot of things you don't know about me."

"Nor you about me," he laughed. "You might be surprised to learn that I had a Dom/sub relationship with someone for almost three years, before I married Bonnie."

His confession just about stunned me. Mr. "Gentle" was into BDSM? At first I thought he was kidding. "I suppose you chained your lover to the bed every night and whipped her to tears," I laughed.

"I'm serious, Beth. Her name was Susan. I met her at a party in Manhattan. She was drunk as a skunk, but I took her home anyway. Since I don't like fucking anyone who is even slightly inebriated, I let her sleep it off. The next morning, sporting a terrific hangover, she told me she liked to be spanked. In fact, she insisted that I give her a good hard spanking before breakfast. I gave her a few love taps, and she called me a wimp. So I did it harder. The harder I did it, the more she liked it. Obviously, she was not inexperienced in that sort of endeavor. Before long she taught me everything she knew about BDSM."

I must have looked totally shocked. "Did you ever whip her?"

David laughed out loud. "That was probably the least I ever did to her."

Holy shit. He was serious. And, strangely, he had just perked my interest in something I had only read about, yet somewhere in the far reaches of my mind had thought about doing. When I read about "Beauty," I became Beauty. The "thing in itself" an old college professor had taught me many years ago; the landscape viewer all of sudden becomes part of the landscape.

I looked deeply into David's eyes, then mustered up enough courage to blurt, "Would you spank me if I wanted you to?"

His face turned a deep red. "Excuse me?" he asked, his voice incredulous over what he had just heard.

I gulped. He was making me repeat what I had just said. Was he doing it purposely to humiliate me? I repeated the question with as much sincerity as I had in my heretofore squeamish little mind.

"You are serious. Beth wants a spanking. I can't believe it."

"David, if you don't do it soon I am going to lose my fucking nerve and we just might spend the rest of our lives in the missionary position, never to explore what is out there."

I could see his mind racing through his wide-open, obviously stunned eyes. "I don't think I can give a 'soft' spanking," he finally said.

"I didn't ask for a soft spanking," I whispered in a come-hither voice that surprised even me.

"You'll be sorry," he said.

We were seated on a sofa. He shifted his body a few inches away from me, then suddenly took my hand and drew me over his lap. Once I was in this embarrassing position, I knew I belonged there. How can I explain to someone who has never been there how thrilling it is to assume the over-the-knee spanking position? I guess I would call it, for want of a better term, "exquisite humiliation." To be under the total control of your lover, to offer him what you have offered no one else in your entire life.

I was wearing his favorite denim skirt, bare-legged underneath, leaving only the skirt itself and a pair of lace and nylon panties that always seemed to turn David on when he saw them. At first his hand merely smoothed out the skirt, over my upturned ass. His touch was electric, hardly giving even the slightest hint of what he was about to do. My waist was over his knees, my head facing the floor. Neither of us said a word.

The first slap was over the top of my skirt, firm and strong. I jumped, reflexively, but stoically accepted the first spank I had ever received. Thoughts of "Beauty" buzzed in my mind. The second spank was even harder, but the material it landed upon served as a cushion to any real pain. I winced at the third stroke and dug my fingernails into the carpet to help brace for what might come next.

Just as David had a way of making long period of foreplay before sex a part of our "normal" love life, he had a special way of bringing me higher and higher, ever so slowly, whenever we entered the world of BDSM. A fire was building bit by precious bit in my loins. Purposely, he raised the level of pain in measured ways. Knowing a light spanking would slowly develop into a crescendo of pain would bring out the submissive side of me like nothing else.

David eased his hand under my skirt, then snaked it slowly upward, over the backs of my thighs, until it lightly rested on the back of my silky-soft panties. It languidly rested there for a few moments, his fingers barely scratching the surface of the material.

"I love your ass," he said softly, running the side of his thumb inside the crack. "It's too bad we are going to have to redden it."

I remained silent as I felt his hand move back down, then slowly start to raise the back of skirt upward, inch by embarrassing inch. He had seen it all before, but for some reason I kept my legs tightly closed. He used two hands to pull the material all the way to my waist. In my mind's eye I imagined the view he had the back of my upturned ass, clad in his favorite white panties.

"Beautiful," he whispered. "You have an ass that was made to be spanked, Beth."

For a fleeting second I wondered if I should back out of this, but I had gone too far and what had happened thus far had felt so nice that I decided I would let him do whatever he wanted to me.

"Open your legs," he said in a stern, authoritative voice.

I complied, and in a thrice four fingers of his right hand pressed firmly against my vulva. "Your panty crotch is soaked!" he exclaimed. "I think this naughty little girl is turned on by the thought of a spanking."

Indeed I was aroused like I had never been before, but I kept my secret safe within me. When he found my clit over the panty crotch and flicked it with his middle finger I moaned loudly and raised my hips give him even better access to the swollen nubbin. He toyed with it for several delicious moments. I could feel the juices almost pouring from my pussy now.

Suddenly he stopped, reached back with his hand, used the flat of his hand produce the hardest spank yet over the panty top. The thick material of the denim skirt, now bunched at my waist, had served to soften the previous blows. My panties offered almost no protection from the pain, and I yelped loudly.

"I'll stop if you want me to," he said.

I exhaled deeply. "I can take it," I said bravely.

David needed no further incentives. Without warning, a reign of spanks, in rapid succession, caught me off guard. I squirmed as best I could and reached back with my right hand in a vain attempt to quell the blows. I was spectacularly unsuccessful. David grasped my wrist tightly, held it in the small of my back, and continued the deluge of wicked spanks until I thought they would never end.

Even after the flood of spanks ended, my ass tingled and stung for a long time. All of a sudden, however, I began to realize there was a strange sensation of pleasure amidst the pain. My mind fought vainly, in this early stage of submission, to grasp this feeling. All I knew was that I didn't want him to stop.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Whew," I replied, "those were some real stingers. Are we done?"

"Not by a long shot. We haven't even gotten to the good part yet. The bare butt," he continued, "yields by far the best sensations."

Before I could comprehend what he had just said, I felt David's fingers slip into the waistband of my panties. He pulled them down slowly, revealing more and more of my already reddened derriere. He wasn't satisfied until they circled my thighs, leaving my ass naked and vulnerable.

This was truly embarrassing. My ass was on full display, not for fondling or kissing, as was previously his delight, but for receiving a good hard spanking, pure and simple. I had never felt so exposed in my life.

"I don't intend to hold back," he said.

Somehow I didn't want him to. The crack of his bare hand across my already beleaguered buns snapped me to attention. This one really hurt, bringing tears to eyes. Soon there was another. And another. My ass was on fire and I tried to move away from the blows, but to no avail. Part of me wanted to tell him to stop, another part of me yearned for him to go on and on. The sounds of his hand striking my ass echoed all over the room, mingled with my cries of pain. When he finally stopped, I had lost count of how many times he had spanked me. Certainly it was more than twenty. After the pain/pleasure settled in, I could have taken 20 more. The juices from my pussy stained David's pants.

I slid off of David's lap to the floor below, my feet curled beneath my hindquarters. I was still breathing raggedly. I looked up at him with my cute little puppy dog eyes and said in as meaningful way as I could, "Thank you, Master."

To this day I have no idea why I called him "Master." It seemed to natural to say it. He seemed pleased by it. He understood.

"Pleasure me," he said.

My ass still stinging, I rose to my knees in front of him. I ran my hands over his thighs, then up and over his abdomen. My fingers quickly located the belt buckle. I undid it, as well as the snap that held his pants together, then unzipped his fly. His erection literally popped out of the "V" of his opened pants. I kissed the tumescent member over his underpants, released it from its confinement, then bent over like a cow grazing in a pasture and took him in my mouth. He was as hard as I had ever felt him. I didn't just give him a blow job; I literally worshipped his cock for the next ten minutes, my reward to him for his reward to me. I had never swallowed his spending before, but this night was his. When I felt his surge beginning, I lowered my mouth and drank him in. His cum spurted onto my throat. I swallowed every drop, sucking what was left around his cockhead before shyly looking up at him, the remnants of his pleasure still on my lips. I didn't say a word. I smiled with a cum-filled grin. It was the beginning of what was to become a lifetime of submissiveness, with Master David leading the way.

To be continued...