Lesbian Fever

If someone had told me yesterday that this evening I would be totally naked in the bedroom of someone of my own sex, straddling the corner of the bed, my ass poking invitingly up in the air, my crotch totally exposed, ready to accept a spanking (and who knows what else), I would have thought they were out of their mind. Yet here I was, not only in such a vulnerable position, but liking it! There was something inside me that was willing to accept the consequences of submission, whatever that might entail, despite the fact that I had only known Linda in a "social" (if this could be called that) environment for a few short, albeit sweet hours.

My face felt flushed to its limit. I folded my arms in front of me and placed my forehead on my right arm. At once the position was humiliating and scary, yet there was a comfort that I felt in Linda's presence that took much of the scariness away. Her voice, stern as it was, had a strangely soothing affect on my timidity, and whatever apprehension I felt earlier seemed to be melting away with each passing minute.

Linda placed her hand on my already tingling buns and traced the red marks she had just created. Her fingernails scratched across the area as she pressed just hard enough to remind me of the pain on the surface of the skin. "I love your ass, BethAnne."

She dug her nails into me more sharply, enough to make me wince. "Ouch!" I cried.

"Does that hurt?"

"Of course it does."

"You will learn, my sweetness, that there is a very thin line between pain and pleasure. I will take you back and forth between these two extremes until almost all of the pain becomes pleasurable. You will learn, if you become my willing student, to accept the pain without asking why. As your level of tolerance grows, so will your pleasure. Sex is fine, but it is only 80 percent mental; the beauty of BDSM is that it is almost 100% mental, and from the mind comes unparalleled joy.

"BDSM?"

Linda laughed. "Bondage, discipline, sado-masochism. Whatever you want to call it, it becomes a lasting bond between the giver and the taker. It takes a lot to be submissive, but the rewards are many."

"When you spanked me..." I hesitated, not knowing how to put my thoughts into words.

"Yes?"

"When you spanked me," I continued, "I was scared at first. Almost frightened. But that feeling somehow disappeared, and the pain I felt was somehow, and I know this sounds strange, a way of expressing my feelings."

She laughed again. "It isn't strange at all, BethAnne. In fact, a true submissive accepts the pain and pleasure as an act of love for her Mistress."

This was getting deep. "Mistress," I thought to myself, "What am I getting into?"

"A true submissive," she continued, "finds real happiness in pleasing her Mistress, whatever road she may have to take to achieve that purpose. The Mistress takes pleasure in watching the submissive endure the pain."

"What if the 'submissive' gets hurt?"

"We are going to set limits, baby. And if I step out of bounds, get into a territory that is a 'no-no,' or cause pain that cannot be endured, we have a safe-word. It's 'mercy.' I promise that I will never leave permanent marks, only lasting memories."

"Somehow I think there has always been a submissive side to me, but it didn't really come out until tonight," I said.

"I sensed that almost from the beginning. Maybe it's why I decided to pursue you."

My face blushed. "This evening was planned?" I asked astonishingly.

"Well, not completely. I really didn't think things would go this far so quickly. My goal was to seduce you. That was all." She nonchalantly ran her fingernails inside the crease of my ass as she spoke, creating goose-bumps on the surface of the skin. Her finger came close to my anus, then moved back.

"I think I have a lot to learn."

"You do, baby, but I will be with you all the way. Trust me. Nothing is more important than trust."

"Will I get spanked often?" she asked.

"As often as necessary," she replied.

"And whipped?"

Linda laughed out loud. "You are beginning to get the idea, girl."

My imagination raced with a thousand possibilities. Some things I was afraid to ask, others I didn't want to know. What she was offering to me was a new and totally different lifestyle, and there were few, if any, bones in my body that were contemplating turning it down. Where was the shy, sweet girl who opened the door Linda's house just a few hours ago? What kind of creature had she become?

"Scary," I said, expressing my thought out loud.

"It's supposed to be scary. And not just a little scary, maybe a lot. Fear of the unknown, apprehension about what might happen next during one of our 'sessions', well, that just heightens the senses and adds to the atmosphere. I will bring you to places you can't imagine, BethAnne. To hell and back, if necessary, to achieve my goals. But the deal is this: you can leave this very moment and I will understand. But if you stay, you are mine, heart, body and soul. There is no turning back, no retreating, once you make up your mind."

It was half ultimatum, half sales pitch. In my heart of hearts, I knew I was already hooked, but was I willing to admit that to myself so soon? The pain of the somewhat mild (in comparison to others later) spanking she had just given me had already dissipated, yet there was an undeniable voice inside my head that was telling me I needed more. As I sorted things out in my racing brain, I began to understand my submissiveness, though it never had a name until now.

"I accept," I blurted.

"Okay. It's your choice. There's no getting out of it now," she said.

With my eyes still closed, and my cheek resting languidly on my forearm, I sensed Linda's movements behind me. I head a drawer open to my left side, then close. I felt her move behind me. My heart began to beat a little faster. She was right, not knowing what was going to happen was exciting to my senses.

I felt no movement by her at all, but suddenly the sound of leather against the upturned flesh of my ass and my cry of pain seemed to meld together in an instant of sheer madness. My head jerked back, reflexively, and my body rose from the corner of the bed.

"What was that?" I cried, "it hurts!"

"It's called a crop," she said. "Here, look at it."

I turned my head as she held a long, thin length of braided leather that was capped by a triangular double fold of leather at its tip. It looked wicked, and it was. I suddenly realized she had just used that awful creature on my poor derriere.

"Damn! It stings like hell," I said, the pain still radiating like a fire across my ass.

"It's supposed to."

She moved behind me again. This time I braced myself, grasping the bedspread in my fists and squeezing for all I was worth. I didn't have to wait long. I heard a "whoosh" of air just before the strike landed. This one was even harder than the first, and the sting felt like a fire on my entire backside. My cries echoed around the room and my brain buzzed like a firecracker. Beads of sweat formed on my brow.

"Remember, the safe-word is 'mercy'," she said. "Say it and I stop."

Something inside of me wanted to show her how brave I was. She must have sensed my courage. There was a part of me that was proud of myself. I felt Linda's hand move between my wide-open legs. Her middle finger found its way through the folds of my pussy into my vagina. I gasped.

"Mmmmm," she said, "somebody must really like what I am doing. It's a fucking lake inside there."

Her finger made delightful squishing sounds inside me as I pushed my body back as best I could to meet the impaled digit.

"Pain, followed by pleasure," she said in a voice thick with lust.

Just a soon as my pussy became accustomed to the pleasure, Linda quickly withdrew her finger and drove the crop home once more with a quick snap of her wrist.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I cried.

"Pleasure, followed by pain," she said. "In time it will all become one..."

Somehow, I felt the process had already begun.