The evening with Darrell in his “special room” was quite, was, was, well let’s put it this way. I liked it. I had never been that nervous and scared about sex, not even when I lost my virginity. I trust Darrell, but the whole scene just takes me to the edge. I get excited just thinking about it. The whole time Darrell and I had been dating he always asked me out. I would wait for him to call. I guess I tipped my hand because a couple of days after our little scene I called him. I said, “Master, when do I have to report to your dungeon again?”
He laughed and said, “Soon. You liked that didn’t you?”
I said, “Well, yes.”
He said, “I don’t know about the ‘master’ and the ‘dungeon’ part, but I think I know what you have in mind. Where are you now?” he said.
“At home. I just got off work. Sharon’s here.” Sharon was my roommate.
“Are you in the bedroom?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
He said, “Go and close and lock the door and come back to the phone.”
“Why?” I said.
“Don’t ask questions. Just do what I say. You’ll like it.”
I got up and locked the door. Sharon was in the kitchen doing something. I didn’t think she would bother me anyway. I did wonder why Darrell wanted me to lock the door just to talk to him, but what the hell? When I got back to the phone he said, “What are you wearing?”
I said, “Black skirt, white blouse. I already took the jacket off. You’ve seen the outfit before.”
He said, “What are you wearing under it?”
I said, “What are you getting at?”
He laughed and said, “I’m getting at you, anyway I can. Now, what are you wearing under that skirt?”
“Pantyhose. Pink satin panties, the same ones you were chewing on a few nights ago.”
“I like those. Take off the panty hose.”
“Hold on.” I stood up and removed my panty hose, sat on the edge of the bed and picked the phone back up.
He said, “Pull your skirt up so you can see those panties. What do they look like?”
I said, “They’re pink. They’re shiny. They’re smooth across my skin.”
“Touch them,” he said. “What do they feel like?”
I said, “You know what they feel like.”
He said, “Remind me.”
I touched the fabric, near the top and rubbed my fingers back and forth just below the waistband. I said, “They feel smooth, delicate, like me.”
He said, “Take off your blouse and skirt.”
I took them off. I was wearing bra and panties only. I picked the phone back up. I said, “OK.”
He said, “What kind of bra are you wearing?”
I said, “White, satin, lacy. It’s very pretty.”
He said, “Take it off.”
By now I had definitely figured out where this was headed, but I had never done this with someone on the phone so I was open to experimenting. I slid the bra off and freed my breasts. I said, “All I have on now are these pink panties.”
He said, “I want you to touch your breasts, caress them like I would.”
I did. By now I was really into this and I was gently pinching my nipples, giving them a slight twist. I said, “Too bad you’re not here to suck these right now.”
He said, “You’ve got that right. Slide you hand under your panties and gently touch yourself.” I slid my right hand under the satin fabric and down to gently touch my clit. I moaned slightly, just enough that Darrell heard it over the phone. He said, “How does that feel?”
I said, “Nice, very nice.”
He said, “Put one finger inside.”
I was already warm and wet, it went in easily. I said, “Oh.”
He said, “I want to hear you make yourself come over this phone. You know how to do it.”
I said, “Yes I do,” as I began to finger myself in and out first one then two fingers. I suddenly became painfully aware that Sharon was just the other side of that wall. I’m not a quiet person when I’m having sex, and I dreaded having to explain this to her, but I was too far into it to stop. I was moaning and trying to keep from screaming.
Darrell was intently listening. He said, “Damn I wish I was there.”
I rolled over and got on my knees shoving my face and the phone into the pillow. I pulled my panties to the side and resumed using two fingers on myself. I was coming. I sort of screamed into the pillow and said, “Oh, dammit Darrell!”
He said, “Soon, very soon.” We talked for a few minutes on widely varied topics totally unrelated, we said our good-byes, and I was left alone in bed feeling spent early in the afternoon. All I could think about was him, and not just the sex, everything about him.
I put on a wooly robe and went to the bathroom. Sharon was in the recliner in the living room. I sat down on the couch. She said slowly and jokingly, “Are you feeling all right?”
I said, “Never better. Why do you ask?”
“Well, it’s just that you don’t usually dress for bed before seven in the evening, and you look a little flushed.”
“I’m fine. I just don’t know what I’m going to do about Darrell.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I mean, well…” I had to spill the whole story, or a least a version of it tailored for Sharon. I said, “Darrell and I are free to date other people if we want.”
She said, “What’s the problem with that?”
“I’m not sure I like that anymore.”
“Are you trying to keep him all to yourself?”
“Well, maybe. It was a good arrangement to begin with. I dated several guys. He dated several different girls and we were still going strong. We even talked with each other about the people we had dated. Somewhere along the way it became more complicated. I didn’t seem comfortable talking about a date with him anymore and he stopped talking about his dates with me. It was like our time together was special and neither one of us wanted to spoil it by talking about someone else.”
“How do you feel about him?” she asked.
“I’m not in love if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“How do you know that?”
I stuttered and said, “I’m just not.”
She said, “What do you feel like when you’re with him?”
“Wonderful,” I said.
“How do you feel about yourself when you’re with him?”
“He makes me feel special, like I’m important, like I matter.”
“Have you ever met anyone else that makes you feel that way?”
I said, “No I guess I haven’t.”
She said, “You’re in love with him.”
“I am not in love with him,” I said. “I’m in love with the way I feel about myself when I’m with him.”
She said, “That’s a nice way of rewording the same thing. Face it girl; you’re in love. You’ve got two choices. You can make the best of the time and attention he gives you and try not to think about the fact that he may be seeing someone else, or you can be honest with him about your feelings and try to get him to be honest with you about his feelings. He may be falling for you just like you are for him.”
“Maybe,” I said somewhat wistfully.
Darrell
Kristine and I continued to date at least once a week, usually on Saturday nights. I reserved Friday nights to look for the other female I wanted to tie up at the same time as Kristine. My attitudes toward women in general began to change. It kind of snuck up on me, but I realized that I hadn’t been out with anyone besides Kristine in months. Every woman I met I compared to her. They did not compare favorably. I started thinking just in terms of finding a woman who would “do” rather than one I would want to date for any period of time. I stopped wasting time beating around the bush. I became much more bold in letting women know what I was interested in. Sure, it scared most of them away, but those were the ones who never would have done what I wanted anyway. I had nothing to lose by being bold. Then I met Angie. When I told her I was very kinky and that I liked to tie women up, she did not run away or even look away. She looked me straight in the eye and said, “And what do you do to them when you have them tied up.”
I said, “If you want to find that out, I’ll have to show you. Do you have plans next Friday night?”
I think my boldness, my confidence got to her a little. She said, “You move fast.”
I said, “Only when I see something I want.”
She pulled a tube of lipstick from a small purse she had with her and wrote her phone number on a napkin. She handed it to me and said, “Call me.”
I said, “I will.” It was getting close to time for the club to close and it was obvious that we had to part. I said, “Can I see that a second?”
“What? My lipstick? Don’t tell me you’re going to put some on.”
“I’m not going to put it on me.” She handed me the tube and I pulled her arm toward me with her palm up. I wrote something from her wrist up the length of her forearm. My arms were in such a way that she could not read what I wrote. I then very boldly kissed her firmly on the lips and walked away without saying a word.
Angie
Darrell had to the boldest and most self-assured man I ever met. He gave me the real sense that he knew where he was going and he was going whether I came along or not. I’ve never had a man within just a few minutes of meeting me plant a kiss firmly on my lips. It’s a wonder he didn’t get slapped. Well, it’s not a wonder that I didn’t slap him. I don’t know how he knew, but that’s exactly what I wanted him to do. It had to be the most exciting first meeting of my life. After he walked away I looked down at my arm. He had written, “You will be mine.” There was a knot forming in my stomach as I said to myself, “Yes I will.” I didn’t even wash the words off until late the next morning, just before I had to go somewhere. I spent the time just looking at them over and over.
Darrell
I wasn’t completely sure, but at this point I had a very strong feeling that my plan was going to come together. My mind started working, ironing out minute details of how I was going to get this to work. First I had to make certain Kristine was still willing to participate in the scene where I tied her and another woman up at the same time. We had talked about it before, but it had been some time. My attitude toward Kristine was changing. I was becoming more attached. If she said no, I didn’t think I could look for someone else. I knew it was coming, slowly. Eventually I had to face the fact that I want Kristine and only Kristine, but not just yet.
I also had to introduce Angie to bondage and see how she reacted. I needed some more equipment. I took some old wore out black leather work boots and I cut two pieces of leather out of them. I shaped the leather like sunglasses and attached a black elastic strap to each of them. I now had two very effective blindfolds. This was getting better.
I picked Angie up Friday night and we went out to dinner. We talked nonstop. We actually got along pretty well. There was only one thing wrong with her. She wasn’t Kristine. When we left the restaurant I opened the door for her on the passenger side of the car. I had been the perfect gentleman all evening. When she walked into the opening and started to sit down I said, “Stop.” I was holding her arm. We were both standing between the door and the car itself. I said, “You remember what I wrote on your arm?”
She said, “Yes.”
I said, “This is the moment of truth. If you like I can take you home and kiss you goodnight and that can be the end of it. If not, then you will be mine. I will do whatever I want with you. Do you understand?”
“I think so.”
“So what’s it going to be?”
“I’m not ready to go home yet.”
I said, “Take off your pantyhose.”
She grinned and said, “I’m not wearing pantyhose. I have on stockings.”
I said, “Even better. Take them off.”
“Here? Now?”
“Yes. Right here. Right now.” She tried to hide from possible public view between me and the car as she pulled her skirt just far enough up on one side to get the top of that stocking and then bent over to pull it down. She took her shoe off long enough to remove the stocking and then put her shoe back on. She seemed unsure of what to do with the stocking. I said, “Give it to me.” She did and then repeated the process for the other leg giving that stocking to me as well. I said, “Turn your back toward me.” She did, slowly. I used one of her own stockings to tie her hands securely behind her back. Then I said, “Get in the car.” Once she was inside the car, I closed the door and went around to the driver’s seat. I fastened her seat belt, told her how beautiful she was and kissed her. From behind the seat I pulled out one of the blindfolds and placed it on her. The surprise caused her to gasp.
She said, “Where are you taking me?”
I said, “Wherever I want to. Anymore questions?”
“No.”
Of course I took her to my place and marched her inside. I just didn’t let her know where she was. I marched her straight to the cool hardwood floor of the back room and stood her in the middle of the room facing back toward me. I have to admit she was quite a sight. She was tall, 5′7 or 8, blond. She was wearing a nice conservative dark blue dress with padded shoulders and very short sleeves. She wasn’t as trim a Kristine. She wasn’t fat by any means, she just had larger curvaceous hips and larger breasts. The whole sight was incredible, the woman, the dress, the blindfold, the hands behind her back.
I waited until the silence became very thick before I said, “Get on your knees.” She did, somewhat awkwardly. I walked around behind her and untied her hands. I said, “Don’t touch the blindfold. Take your clothes off. Just lay them in the floor beside you. I’ll take care of them.” She removed her shoes and her dress and then her bra. She started to remove her panties. I said, “Leave those on. I’ll take them off when I get ready.” I stood in front of and over her. I said, “Put your hands together in front of you.” I tied them together not with her stockings, but with rope. It was secure, but not too tight. I knew the ropes wouldn’t stretch much like the stockings would. I immediately tied her hands to the rope coming from the ceiling and without telling her what was about to happen I pulled the rope pulling her to a standing position with her arms above her head. I said, “Have you ever been tied up before?”
She said, “No.”
I said, “Have you ever been whipped before?”
She shivered and said, “No.”
I said, “There’s a first time for everything.” I paused and said, “Do you want to be whipped?” I could tell from her reaction that she had not expected that question. She seemed stunned, like she didn’t know what to say. I waited through a few moments of her silence and said, “Don’t worry. You don’t have to make a decision. I already made my decision. How you answer that question makes no difference. I was just curious as to what you were thinking.”
I kissed her on the lips and then the neck. I caressed her breasts and lightly pinched her nipples. I moved lower and sucked each nipple in turn. I got on my knees and slowly kissed my way down her belly and around the borders of her panties. From this position I placed her ankles side by side and tied them securely together. I stood up and got one of the ball gags. I placed it around her neck and fastened it together, but I did not put in place yet. I said, “Any last requests before we begin?”
She said, “Don’t hurt me.”
I said as sweetly and tenderly as possible, “Wrong answer darling,” as I stuffed the ball gag into place and tightened it down. I really didn’t hurt her, but I let her know she was getting whipped. She jerked and pulled at the ceiling with each swing. She would moan and bite down against the gag. Halfway through I pulled the blindfold off. I wanted to see to look in her eyes as I held her in that position, her not knowing what was coming next. I said, “I don’t think you need these any more,” and I pulled her panties to her ankles. I whipped her bare ass a few times. She looked over her side at me with each swing. I didn’t say a word. She couldn’t say a word, but her eyes said so much.
I untied her feet and slightly loosened the rope from the ceiling. I got down on my knees in front of her and kissed her feet. I slowly worked up kissing her calves, her knees, her thighs and on up. Finally I licked deep into her cunt and started working on her clit. She moaned, threw her head back and one leg up over my shoulder. If it wasn’t for the rope from the ceiling she would have fallen down. I put two fingers inside her and continued to work. I didn’t know how much more of this I could stand before I had to put my cock in her, but I wanted her to come hanging from the ceiling like that. She was hot. She was wet. She was wonderful. She finally shivered and shook and briefly lifted both her feet off the floor as her muffled, gagged noises made it clear she was trying to scream. I stood up and kissed her on the cheek. I said, “You’re an even hotter whore than I hoped for.”
I pulled the low back chair over in front of her and tied her ankles to the feet at the back of the chair. I loosened the ceiling rope, bent her forward over the chair and tied her hands down to the front. I walked around in front of her where she could see what I was doing and I finally started to take my clothes off. I stroked my cock in front of her a few times and slowly walked around behind. I was lost in the pleasure of the warm sensation of sliding my cock into her cunt. I started working my way in and out, leaning forward and grabbing her breasts. I started fucking her hard and fast, smacking her ass with my bare hand between strokes. She was pulling at her bonds, swinging her hair around, trying to look over her shoulder at me, biting down into the ball, drooling, moaning, shivering, coming again.
I withdrew from her and quickly lubed my cock. I carefully placed the head of it against her anal opening. She let out a sharp high pitched moan, if there is such a thing, as my cock cleared the initial opening and started sliding into her ass. I lifted my hands up and placed them behind my head. My cock was the only thing touching her. I was completely still. I said, “Just relax. You’re going to enjoy this.” She continued to moan and shake just a little as I slid all the way inside. Her ass was especially tight right at the opening. The sensation on my cock further in was warm and very snug, but not as tight as the opening. Gradually she began to calm down. I stood perfectly still as she began to experiment with this new sensation. She began to push back and forth, actually fucking me while I held the chair back to stay still. Then I started giving it back to her, fucking her tight little ass for all it was worth. I came and fell forward holding her breasts. I slowly pulled out of her and just held on to her for several moments.
We both got dressed. I offered to let her shower at my place. I offered to shower with her, but she said she wanted her own shampoo, etc. I drove her home, holding and occasionally kissing her hand. I walked her to the door very gentlemanly and got my good night kiss. She surprised me by saying, “Aren’t you going to come in?”
“When you didn’t want to stay at my place, I thought you were trying to get rid of me,” I said.
“Come on in,” she said. “You can shower with the wrong shampoo and somebody else’s towels and no toothbrush.”
I went in. We showered and stayed up late just talking about who we were, where we came from, just get to know you things like that. She showed me her high school annual. I knew I had seen this somewhere before. I started looking through it. She told me she had been a cheerleader, so of course I turned to the cheerleader picture to see her. When I looked at the other girls in the picture I almost fell out of the chair. There they were, Angie and Kristine, Captain and Co-captain. I couldn’t fucking believe it. I regained my composure just enough to ask if she stayed in touch with any of these girls. She said, “No. I don’t think I’ve seen any of them for seven or eight years.”
We discussed our earlier activities that evening. Angie had been nervous at first, but very pleased with the results. I decided to go for the gold. I steered her into telling me her ultimate fantasies. They were pretty tame, sex in public places, elevators, etc. Then I told her mine, I wanted to tie her and another woman up at the same time. She said, “Interesting. If it’s half as much fun as tonight was, I’ll do it.”
