I often at times think back to my first ever fetish experience...
Freshly turning 19 and slowly grasping the big city, I started to explore new cultures. Some were less frisky and some were very unique, some of them even led to me developing an addiction. However, I knew personally there still remained a gap that I had not fulfilled yet.
Put simply, I secretly adored two things:
The glossed shine of smooth tight latex: Beit gloves, corsets, collars, hoods or catsuits, watching a woman in the black material tingled my helpless body with potent arousal through my veins. I yearned to lick the material, desperately sucking those gloved fingers in my mouth and taking the abuse for hopes to gain approval for the ultimate prize...
Licking a mistress' unzipped sweaty latex crotch.
Being under the property of a strong woman: challenged by the status quo of our current society, I was always forced to accept that they were submissive to men. But I knew that was far from the truth... Dominantly strong women are fucking hot and are insanely smart. They're timely, respectful, passionate and full of surprises. Your weaknesses become their strengths and in return their demands become your needs.. both mold the dynamic into a bliss that pushes your abilities but ultimately (given the right domme) stays within your boundaries.
And so, it was only a matter of time to make those fantasies come true ( and oh boy what a lesson to learn).
The first thing no one tells you is how nervous it is contacting a professional domme for the first time. Whether its' scrolling through the website to find the email or looking at services available, writing a message and hitting the submit button is like taking the red pill for the matrix, your world is about to be flipped upside down. You're no longer just imagining things anymore, you're finally exposing all your dirty little secrets to someone who will use them against you.
After a week of back and forth messages and requests, I finally arrive to the location. Dressed in a black shirt and black jeans I stood outside, staring at the door heart pounding with anticipation.
The building was simple, It's the one you see all the time, yeah that one! an iron fence and simple brick walls and roof ontop... But yet here was this young teen in a nervous wreck standing outside knowing in 5 minutes he would be crawling like a dog on a leash... You just never knew...
Not experienced in the feeling of "taboo" I felt "gritty", as if something dirty was going to happen to me. Will I be a mess?, Was I about to be cut or scarred? what happens if I get forced?, what's my safeword?, does anyone know what im about to do? etc.
Message 4:15PM: Have you arrived yet?
quickly typing: "Yes Mistress, I am at the front of the gate."
Good Boy. shivers down my spine
I hear the lock twist and the door swing, It was her...
Cladded in a tight black rubber catsuit darker than the night.. It teased the proportions of her sleek thighs and rounded ass. Frontally, the catsuit tightly wrapped around her mound down to the parting of her warm cameltoe spiralling my thoughts and fantasies into her submission.
Her face was gorgeous, she had slick red lips with a soft face to melt you in bliss, only to be pierced by the sharpness in the pupil of her eyes commanding your service.
"Hello boy, come in."
I followed in a trance to the knocking of her black stiletto boots on the hardwood. Couldn't tell if they were 4 or 6inches, I was too fixated on how they wrapped up to her knees holding all the sweat from the catsuit inside. What aroused me more was if there was latex covered feet from stockings or rubber socks. The only thing stopping me was her permission and making 20 lace holes.
Inside the dark room was a kink lovers playground. You could imagine as any professional kinkster, this was filled with all the tools necessary... Gags in all shapes to run drool along your chin, Blindfolds for your physical attention, ropes whips and chains to tie you up into all sorts of pretzel shapes and many phallus shaped objects for (well you know what).
She sat on the leather bench and said:
"undress" then later pointing her index finger towards the floor.
As I was lowering on my knees, one of her black slicked legs pressed on my shoulder, calved black stilettos piercing my chest.
Signalling me by raising her chin, her leg pulled me towards her. I exposed my neck to be collared to her submission.
I knew there wasn't anything else at that point in time, no individuality, no sense of freedom or sense of initiative... I was only to respond to the jolts of the leather around my neck...
I was hers.
Not only did that pump the blood to my cock, but I was also having a revolution being inches away from her rubber coated pussy. I could feel the warmth of it heating up the tight suit, a smell of wet desire, tinged with the acrid smell of rubber sending my dick rock hard.
Pushing me away, she beams my attention.
"So slave, have you ever been owned or been under a "mistress" before?"
"No, I used to just go online and look on chats for mistresses to serve online but not anymore cause they just scam my money."
Yes it's quite common, glad to see you've made an effort though. You've never even been to a party? or been with someone kinky?
"No I haven't had the time to go to those parties, Also i've never been in a relationship since middle school!. Even then it was just another small fling nothing common."
I see... but there's got to be sometime when you've been into this scene no?
