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My First Visit To a Domme

6/3/2014

I've been browsing the online ads for the past few months,
when I found what I was looking for. The ad read:


"White Dominant Female, 46 years old, is looking
for a willing older sub male to play with sexually. Race
doesn't matter. Experience is not required, but desire
and your PG pictures are. Put the word 'Kneeling'
in your subject line."


This is exactly what I wanted for a long time. I tried looking
for a Domme for the longest time, with no success. I even
tried with my own ad, but it only resulted in some bot responses
and a come on from the local Escort agency.


Nervously, I started to craft my response to her ad. I wanted
it to be perfect. Finally, I settled with:


"Hi, my name is James, and I'm interested in your
ad. I've had a desire to serve a woman like you for as
long as I can remember, but I've never acted on it. I'm
older than you, 56 to be exact. I'm 6'2",
195 lbs. and in decent shape. I would love to serve you. If
you'd like, I could meet you in a public place to dispel
any concerns you may have. To be honest, I'm a bit nervous,
and I would appreciate the public meeting as well.


Per your request, I added a face pic."


For the next few days, I've checked my e-mail over a
dozen times to see if she answered my message. Finally,
I got a response:


"James, I'm interested, but not convinced.
As you can imagine, I got dozens of responses, most of which
said, "Let's hook up", or "Wanna
fuck." They also sent pics of their genitals, which
they thought would impress me.


So, merely due to the fact that you actually read my ad, and
you seem to have at least a passing knowledge of English
grammar, you're officially at the top of my list.


You will meet me at Eveillé Coffee Shop at 5:00 p.m. this
Thursday. Wear a pink shirt, buy one if you don't have
one already. Buy two coffees. I take mine with two sugars
and no cream, and wait for me. My name is Trish."


After reading her message a few times, I went shopping for
a pink shirt. I like non-descript clothes, and I never had
a pink shirt before. I considered if I should wear my pink
shirt to work, or to find a restroom after work to change.
Since I didn't want to draw attention to myself, I decided
to wear a plaid shirt to work, and to change at a nearby McDonald's.



On Thursday, I spent the day fretting over my meeting with
Trish. My concern must've been obvious since Nancy,
my busybody coworker, asked, "Jim, is something
wrong? You look preoccupied."


"No, I'm fine, " I said, trying to put on
my best smile. "I think maybe I'm coming down
with something, but I'm fine."


She looked at me for a few moments, when she relented. "Ok.
It just that the last time you looked like that is when we
threatened to fix you up with that woman in Accounting."
She continued with a laugh, "You're not catting
around, are you?"


"I wish, " I said, "Just another boring
night for me."


"Maybe what you need is to get out a little, "
Nancy said, "We're going for po-boys at the new
Eveillé Coffee Shop for lunch. Wanna come?"


I felt the blood drain from my face as I quickly said, "No,
I think I'll just eat at my desk again. I don't think
I'd be good company today."


Nancy shrugged. "Have it your way. It's your
loss." She turned, and walked away.


I let out a breath, and went back to work. I had a hard time
concentrating for the rest of the day. I felt like my chest
would explode; my heart was beating so fast. Finally, I
decided to leave early at 4:00 p.m. Nancy, bless her soul,
saw me and said "I guess you really are sick; you never
leave early."


"Yeah, " I said, "I just don't feel
so good. I think I'll go home, brew a cup of tea, and lay
down."


I rushed to the parking lot, and headed to the nearest McDonald's.
As I neared, I hesitated to go inside. I thought it would
be too obvious to go in there and change shirts, so I rushed
home to Metairie, changed, and rushed back to Magazine
Street. In a feat in itself, I finally found a parking spot,
and walked into the coffee shop with less than five minutes
to spare.


I was sweating profusely as I walked inside. I was wiping
my hands on my pants when the black woman behind the counter
asked for my order. "Two coffees, please. One with
two sugars, and I like mine black."


"I bet you do, " she cracked, as she poured two
coffees, and pointed to the sugar on a shelf to the side.
"You can add sugar over there, honey, " she
said. I paid, fixed Trish's coffee, and looked for
an out of the way table. Fortunately, the café was mostly
deserted, so I didn't have to worry about us being overheard.



I sipped my coffee nervously, glancing at my watch every
few minutes. It was obvious that I was waiting for someone.
Finally, five minutes after five, a pretty brunette woman
walked in, and glanced around the shop, obviously looking
for someone. I froze as I couldn't decide if I should
stand up, and invite her over to my table, or to let her spot
me in my pink shirt, and come over on her own. As I was about
to man up, and invite her over, she found who she was looking
for. It wasn't me. She rushed to another table and hugged
the woman seated there. 'Damn, I'm such a goober, '
I thought, as I watch the exchange.


As the minutes ticked by, the more nervous I became, and
I began to sweat profusely. I could almost hear her remonstration;
"I didn't see anyone in a pink shirt, it was so
wet, it looked red." Ten minutes later, I figured
I'd been played for a fool. I was wondering how long
I should stay when an attractive woman, in a red and black
dress, entered the coffee shop, looked straight at me,
walked over, and sat down.


"Hi, James, " she said, "Nice to meet
you." She stuck out her hand, and I shook it. She smiled,
looked at me with piercing eyes, and continued. "You're
hands are sweaty. You're nervous?"


"Yes, uh, Trish, " I replied, lamely. I didn't
know what I should call her.


She leaned over, and said quietly, "You may call me
Trish in public and Mistress in private. Never confuse
the two."


"Yes...Trish, " I said, and I finally made
eye contact with her. Trish is beautiful; black ringlets,
near lavender eyes, with fair skin. I couldn't believe
this would happen to me. She leaned back, sipped her cup
of coffee, and made a face. "This is cold. Get me a hot
cup. I believe you know how I like it."


I dutifully returned to the counter to get a refill of her
coffee, and it seemed to me that the waitress was giving
me a knowing look when she returned the cup to me and said,
"Here you go, Hun. Gotta keep that woman happy, you
know?"


After sweetening the coffee, I returned to the table with
Trish's coffee, and handed it to her. "Anything
else?" I asked.


"No, just sit down, " she replied. "We
need to chat. I'll lead the conversation, do you understand?"



"Sure, " I replied, casting my eyes down, with
more than a little embarrassment.


"First, I little more decorum is required. Sure is
awfully informal. I expect more respect, Understand?"



"Yes, Miss...Trish, " I replied.


"Better, " she said. "Now, tell me about
what you want from our relationship."


The reality is that I wasn't sure. I wanted her to take
control, and tell me what to do. Yes, I wanted sex, but I wanted
her to lead. I needed her to lead.


"I...I'm not sure, " I stammered, "I
want you to control me sexually. I want you to be in charge
and...teach me how to satisfy. That's it...I want
to satisfy you."


She smiled, and said, "That's pretty open-ended.
I'm not sure you understand what you're saying.
Maybe we should start with what you won't do, and whatever
is left defines the universe of what I may do with you. The
things you won't do are called limits. Everyone has
limits, and I have limits to what I'll do to you too.
So, tell me, what things wouldn't you ever do?"



I thought for a moment, when I answered. "I'm
absolutely straight, so I won't do anything sexual
with a man. I also read that some people like to use poop and
piss in sexual acts. I absolutely won't do that. Also,
I don't like the idea of permanent marks and scars.
I think I can take some...light punishment, but nothing
really harmful or extremely painful. I'm not looking
for humiliation. I know men who are dominated really want
to be humbled, but that's not me. I just like situations
where the woman takes the lead sexually."


She looked at me for several moments, when she finally replied,
"I'm not sure you're being completely candid
with either me, or yourself, James." She took a breath
before she continued, "There have to be specific
turn-ons for you. I'm not promising I'll ever
give you what you want, but I do want to understand what drives
your passion." She looked at me with unblinking eyes
and a probing expression before she continued. "Regardless,
I like you. You're a little older than me, and that's
what I like. I'm willing to take you on as a project as
long as you can follow simple instruction. You can follow
simple instructions, can't you James?"


"Yes, Yes I can, Trish, " I said.


"Good, " she replied with a tone of finality,
"Then it's a plan. Oh, one other thing. How's
your health, James? No heart problems or other medical
issues I should be aware of?"


"I'm in great shape, " I said. "I
work out regularly, and I have no heart problems or other
issues."


"Good, " she replied, "But regardless,
I want to make sure you'll be up to whatever I decide
to put you through. Specifically, I want you to take Viagra
before our visits. Do you have an issue with that?"



I didn't want to admit that I'd used Viagra before,
so I answered, "I don't need that."


"I don't care, " she replied, staring
at me straight in the eye, "It's a deal breaker
for me. I want you to be responsive to whatever I do, whenever
I do it."


I swallowed hard, and said, "Ok, whatever you want,
Trish."


She smiled knowingly. "Good, I'll send you an
e-mail when we should meet, " she said as she pushed
an envelope towards me. "I expect you to be available
when I want you, got it?"


I nodded. She gave me her smile, and without another word,
she stood up, and walked out the door.


When she was gone, I start to shake. I was scared of what would
come next. I didn't want to drive in the state I was in,
so I decided to have a refill. Well, that was a big mistake!
My favorite barista was clucking and shaking her head.
"Honey, " she said, "You're out
of your league. Nothin' but trouble ever gonna come
of that!"


I smiled at her, and simply said, "You're probably
right." It was then that I knew I would follow through.
It was time to take a chance. In the car, I opened the envelope
and there was a business card that read "Trish Vandenberg,
Sensual Mistress" and a single blue pill.


The next Tuesday, I received a message from Trish. It simply
said, "Come to my house tomorrow night at 7:00 p.m.
Take the Viagra at 6:30, and wear your pink shirt."
She included her address on State Street. State Street
is generally an upscale address in Uptown, but New Orleans
is a strange city; one street might have mansions on it with
rundown homes a couple of blocks away on the same street.
It felt like I was cheating, but I looked up the address on
Google Maps. If the precise address was correct, the house
appeared to be very nice with two front doors: a duplex.
I felt a little uneasy; I was glad it wasn't a wreck of
a house, but at the same time, a neighbor would be able to
eavesdrop.


The next day, I was nervous at work. So much so that my nosy
coworker, Nancy, mentioned that there was something wrong
with me. And, as only she could, she asked me to lunch to talk
about it. Once again, I declined her invitation.


Since I had plenty of time between work and my meeting with
Trish, I went home, took a shower, and dressed in my pink
shirt. As promised, I dry swallowed the Viagra, and headed
to my car to drive uptown. The traffic was busy as usual,
but it unnerved me today. I didn't want to be late. But,
the heavens were smiling down on me as I got there five minutes
early.


I parked at the corner of her street, and I walked up to her
house. I rang the bell, and waited nervously for her to answer.
A few moments later, a voice rang out from the speaker above
my head. "Hello, James, " the voice said, "I'm
glad to see that you're punctual. Shut the storm shutters
behind you." I looked around and realized that the
house had a recessed door, with storm doors covering the
entranceway. I closed the storm doors, when Trish on the
speaker said, "Take your clothes off."


As I glanced around to find Trish, I saw the video cam. That's
how she knew. I unconsciously glanced at the storm doors,
afraid that they would be opened by anyone at any time.


"James, you are here to serve me in any way I desire.
At the moment, I desire to see more of you. Take your clothes
off." Sometimes you want something so bad that you
don't know what to do when you get it. I was getting exactly
what I wanted, and I was scared as hell.


I took off my pink shirt, and bent over to remove my shoes,
and socks. I unbuckled my belt, unzipped, and pulled off
my pants. Standing only in my boxers, I noticed that my cock
was responding to the excitement of the situation. It was
stiff, but not completely hard. I must've hesitated,
as I heard her say "Go on. I don't have all night!"
With a huge sigh, I pulled them down.


Then...nothing happened.


I waited for what seemed like minutes, and finally, I heard
her voice say "You may enter now." I entered
and closed the door behind me, and then heard the electric
lock engage. I was standing at the end of a long hallway that
ran the length of the house. The floor was a dark polished
oak, with walls the color of subdued yellow, with ornate
crown moldings painted white. At the end of the hallway
sat Trish. She was wearing a light green dress and was calmly
drinking a cup of tea. "Stand still. Right there, "
she ordered.


I did as I was told, feeling the first flush and thickening
of my cock caused by the Viagra. She continued, "Hang
your clothes on the hall tree. I don't want any untidy
piles on my floor." After I was done with her command,
she said, "Come here."


It felt like I was moving in quicksand as I walked towards
her. I couldn't maintain eye contact with her. She
stared at me like she was catching a glimpse at my soul. Her
stare was so intense, it was eerie. Finally, I stood in front
of her, my chest heaving with the rush of adrenaline and
with my cock pointing straight at her.


She looked at me from head to toe with a bemused expression.
I couldn't tell if she was pleased or amused. Finally,
she simply said, "You do work out, it appears."
She placed her palm of her right hand on the side of my face,
and ran it down. She hooked a finger to my bottom lip, down
my chin, onto my chest, where she rubbed slowly. She smiled
as she continued to run her hand slowly down my stomach,
and stopping just short of my twitching cock.


She cupped my balls with her left hand. As she squeezed,
she said, "I do prefer a shaved man. You've trimmed
up for me, but it's more hair than I like. However, you
please me so far. Just so you know I can't stand liars.
You're not really 56, are you?"


"Yes, Mistress, I am, " I blurted out.


She stroked my cock, licked her lips, looked me in the eye
and said, "How about you prove it? Go get your driver's
license."


As I turned to do as she asked, she said, "Your ass is
not your best attribute. Your workout routine needs to
be improved."


I became aware of her watching my ass as I walked back to my
pants to grab my license. I became concerned about what
she would do with that kind of information. And again, Trish
displayed her ability to read me completely. "Don't
worry about what I might do with your personal information, "
she said, as she took my driver's license into her hand.
She started to recite my full name, address, even where
I worked. I was both bothered about it, and quite impressed
at the same time.


When I returned my license to my wallet, I noticed for the
first time that both sides of the house were hers. The other
side was mainly a huge room that was probably used as a ballroom
in earlier generations. All along the hallway were pictures
of dogs, cats, horse, even foxes and wolves. Not a single
family photo or of a single person. How odd.


Proving once again that she could be telepathic, she said,
"You wonder about the pictures of animals. I'm
a veterinarian although I no longer practice. My father
died at a young age. Your age to be exact. It left me financially
secure. I've always felt more comfortable with animals
than with people. I still volunteer at the animal shelter,
and I pursue my personal interests. And, you are currently
one of those interests."


Waves of ecstasy ran through my body as she slowly stroked
my cock again. "Now, James, there are a few rules to
our game, " she said, "I make you do things that
pleases me, and you do them to please me. What gives you pleasure
comes second, it I give it any consideration. You've
told me your limits, but you need safe words to protect yourself.
So, if you absolutely don't want to do something, say
'Red' and I'll stop. If you you're really
nervous about what you're doing, but not ready to say
'Red', then say 'Yellow'. I may stop,
or I may continue. If I continue, I'll watch your comfort
level very closely. There's no point in saying 'Green'.
If you don't say anything to stop me, then I'll
just keep going. Do you understand?'


"Yes, Mistress, " I said. She smiled and squeezed
my balls.


"Alright, then. James, I wish to shower, and I'm
going to use you as my personal valet. The bathroom is just
there to the right. Start the water and get it warm but not
too hot."


"Yes, Mistress, " I replied. The expectation
of seeing Trish naked thrilled me. I started the shower,
tested the water, and returned to her to say that her shower
was ready.


She stood up, and said, "Follow me." Once in
the bathroom, she said, "Unzip me, James."
With shaky hands, I pulled the zipper of her dress down,
and she stepped out of it. "Hang my dress up James.
I don't want it wrinkled." I complied, and she
instructed me to undo her bra. I did and she turned around
to face me. She had small, beautiful tits with very dark
nipples. I could barely control my hands. "Kneel
down, James. Pull my panties down." The tremors in
my hands were now quite obvious, and I fumbled with the waistband
of the panties as I pulled them down and she stepped out of
them. I was left kneeling with my mouth and nose inches from
her pussy, which was completely shaved. Her scent was released
when I pulled down her panties, and I realized she was as
turned on as me. "Would you like to lick it, James?
I know I would, " she taunted. She must have known
that I was struggling against my instincts to bury my face
there.


With that, she stepped into the shower, leaving me kneeling
with a hard cock and a desperate desire for more. "Get
in here, James. My hair won't wash itself. And I need
someone to wash my back. Don't, I repeat, do not touch
me with your dick. I expect you to control your natural impulses."



The act of washing her hair was an amazing revelation to
me. I actually felt honored to be allowed to run my hands
through her hair. Washing her back and ass was also an amazing
turn-on. Her ass made up for any shortcoming my own might
have.


Turning around to face me, she began to soap up her breasts,
and ran her right hand down to her pussy and rubbed herself
as she closed her eyes and moaned softly. "I know you
want me, James, but you can't have me. Your only hope
for release is to do it yourself. Play with your cock; I want
to see you pleasure yourself."


I've never masturbated in front of another person,
and I really felt uncomfortable, but at the same time, she
had me very excited, and it felt good. She then said, "Just
be sure to not cum. You can only cum when I tell you to, understand?"
I just nodded as I looked into her staring half-lidded eyes.



"Time for some more fun, James, " she said,
as she stepped out of the shower. "Turn off the water
and dry me off." She handed me a towel as I got out, and
she turned her back to me. I began to rub the towel against
her body, and I could feel my desire grow as I slowly rubbed
it against her back, her ass, her tits, and finally her pussy.
She just had a bemused look on her face as if this was really
funny to her.


"James, I'm getting dressed, and I want you to
dry yourself and then dry off the floor. You've left
quite a mess." I used the wet towel to wick off as much
water off my skin as I could, and then bent over to dry the
floor. "NO, James. Get down on all fours, and make
sure you do a good job. I'd hate to slip down on a slick
floor, " she commanded.


Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her put on what I expected
of a Domme. She put on a black leather bra and garter belt
that made her tits pushed up, and her ass and pussy fully
exposed. My dick was so hard, it was painful. She picked
up something from the bathroom counter, and walked over
to me. I kept my head down, as she wrapped something around
my neck. I quickly realized that she had put a pink collar
on me with an attached pink leash that she carried in her
hand.


"James! We're going shopping. Don't you
love to shop?" she said with a smirk. She pulled me
along, with me stumbling along trying to crawl on all fours.
She walked me to a walk-in closet, and pulled me inside.
What I saw inside was amazing! She had the entire closet
of BDSM equipment. "It's time for you to choose,
James, " she said, "What do you really want?
To your left are dildos, hanging up above them are strap-ons.
Over there are whips, flogs, and crops. And here are some
ball torture devices. This one is a cock cage, it ensures
your chastity, and this one, which is one of my favorites,
is a ball stretcher, and over there are sexy outfits. What
do you like? Pick out one of each, it's time for FUN!"



She first pulled me over to the dildos. They ran the gamut
in size, color, and texture. Many of them were shaped like
cocks, with huge heads and bulging veins. "Pick one,
James. I'm probably going to use it on you, but I may
get you to masturbate me with it. At some future date, I may
have you fuck a 2nd playmate with it."


"Mistress, " I quickly stated, "I've
never had anything up my ass but a finger. I don't think
I could take one of these...inside me."


She smiled at me, and said, "You'll be surprised
what you can do with my guidance. But, for now, I'll
use the starter kit." She picked up what she called
a butt plug.


She then picked up a tube of lube, and holding the plug in
front of my face, oiled it up. "Time to bust your cherry,
James." She lubed up my ass, and told me to tighten
and loosen my ass for a total of three times. After the third
time, she told me to relax as she pushed the plug up my ass.
The pressure was immediate, and the only thing that made
it endurable was that she stroked my cock as she pushed it
in. the plug had a wide section and then narrowed considerably.
Getting the wide part through my ass was painful, but it
was a bit of a relief when it went in and my sphincter tightened
around the narrow section.


"Hold it in with your butt muscles, " she instructed,
"It'll be hard to do at first, but I don't
want you to fail. Every time it comes out, you get a flogging."
With that, she selected one of the whips from the closet
and showed it to me.


"How are you doing, James?" she asked. "Are
you still with me?"


"I'm okay, Mistress, " I replied.


"Wonderful!" she said. "You're
such a brave little boy! You may stand up now, but be careful
not to push out the plug."


I stood up as she commanded. Getting up wasn't painful,
but I definitely felt the pressure in my ass.


Miss Trish held up a very sexy pink negligee, and then a flesh
colored one against her body. "Which do you like best,
James? Which turns you on the most?"


The pink one was very sexy, but I really like the camisole
of the flesh colored one. The color against her skin was
just very alluring, and very sexy. "I like the one
with the camisole, Mistress. It's very sexy, "
I replied.


"I agree, James!" she said excitedly as she
coyly held the panties against her pussy. "Put in
on for me!"


I was stunned. I was taken in by her very feminine, very sexy
talk about the outfits. "Me?" I exclaimed.
"I...I can't wear that! I thought you were going
to wear them!"


Trish just smiled at me and said, "James, I thought
you wanted me to be in control. 'All I want is to be controlled
by a woman' you said. You said the camisole was sexy!
Were you lying to me? Do you think you can pick and choose
what rules to obey?" She began to twist my cock painfully
as she asked each question, and was pulling and twisting
my balls as she finished.


"NO! No Mistress! You're in charge. I...I was
just confused. Please let me wear the outfit. I want to please
you!" I panted. She just continued to smile and squeeze
my balls.


"How many times should I flog you for your disrespect,
James?" she asked sweetly. "It's your
choice; too few and I will have to punish you twice, too many
and you're only punishing yourself."


'What the fuck?' I thought silently. Out loud,
I said "I don't know Mistress. Please, punish
me as you think is appropriate."


"Hmm, " she mockingly thought, "I think
25 would be good; fifteen for your behavior, and another
ten for avoiding an answer to my question. Turn around.
I'm going to warm you up. Now James, what do you prefer:
thuds or stings?"


I was confused. I asked, "What are thuds? I understand
stings...I think."


Smiling, she said, "Good question." She began
to spin the flogger, with the fingers slowly arcing through
the air. "I think I'll demonstrate."


She hit me flat on the back and I immediately understood;
it made a dull thud sound. I jumped with the impact, and I
felt a little pain, but it wasn't unbearable. Spinning
it again, she now hit me on the ass, and must have snapped
the flogger, it stung so terribly.


"OW!" I said. "Thud, I definitely prefer
the thuds. Mistress, please, thud me."


"You're so polite!" she said. "Of
course I'll thud you."


With that said, she hit me firmly on the butt over and over.
Finally, she asked "How many have I given you, James?
I wasn't counting. Were you?"


She, of course, knew I didn't know. I considered guessing,
but I was afraid she actually knew, and would flog me more
because of the lie. Finally, I said, "No Mistress.
I'm sorry."


"It's Ok with me James. I just love to flog you.
Here we go: one, two..." she counted as she hit me over
and over on my ass and back. When she got to fifteen, she said,
"Time for your penalty strokes. Turn around."



My ass and back were really burning right now, and I was afraid
that she was going to flog my cock. I didn't know if I
could take it. I hung my head in shame as I said, "Yellow."



"Oh, James. That's very disappointing. How
about I get started and you try to man up. Do you think you're
up for that?"


Shit. I'm fucking this up. "Yes, Ma'am,
I'm up to it, " I said as turned around.


She began to whip the flogger in circles again. She started
to hit me on my stomach, then up to my chest, and down to my
stomach again. She continued to go back and forth between
my chest and stomach as she began to count. "One, two,
and three..." Each strike found its mark as she counted
to ten. A few seconds later, she aimed her flogger at my cock,
and struck me lightly. "That was for a false yellow!"
I nearly jumped out of my skin as I saw the fingers of the flogger
begin to arc towards my dick. I was relieved when her blow
was so light.


"You need to trust me, James. I'm not going to
harm you. I may hurt you, but I won't injure you. Can
you learn to trust me?"


"Yes, Mistress, " was all I said as I hung my
head down, once again, in shame for distrusting her.


"Ok, James. We're going to play a trust game right
now. I'm going to bind you, blindfold you, and then
play with you. Would you like that?" she asked.


"As you wish, " I said.


"First, that butt plug has been in long enough. I don't
want you unable to walk tomorrow, " she said as she
had me squat and she pulled the plug out.


"Take that, and wash it off James. You've made
a mess, " she said with a disgusted look on her face.
I carried the plug to the bathroom and washed it carefully.
Once I came back, she grabbed my cock and pulled me to a back
room behind the old dance room. Inside was a revelation;
I think you might call it a dungeon. All types of tables and
stands, many of which I'd seen in pictures on the Internet.
To the back was a Saint-Andrews Cross with leather straps
to secure whichever poor soul was held there. To the side
was what appeared to be a church pew.


Mistress Trish saw where my gaze was and said,


"That's where you'll be sitting. Just like
church, huh Jim? Although, I admit that I'm more of
a synagogue girl myself."


I looked at her dumbly, having not thought of her in any religious
setting at all.


"Playing the shy boy now, are we? Oh well, I think you'll
really enjoy what's coming." Having said that,
she pulled out a pink blindfold and tied it over my eyes.
She asked if I could see, which when I said I couldn't,
she approved. "Good." She led me to the pew,
and had me sit down.


"Put your hands behind your back, " she said,
and tied my hands together looping the rope through something
behind me. She then tied each of my legs to a leg of the pew,
forcing them wide apart. Unable to resist such an easy target,
she casually played with my cock while I sat there immobile.



Then, no sound; no talking, and no touching. I could hear
her moving things around, and I could hear her walk out of
the room for a moment before returning. I heard the sound
of her dragging something across the floor, but I couldn't
tell what she was doing.


Suddenly, I could feel her close to me. Maybe it was her breath
on me, or maybe I heard something close by. Whatever it was,
I knew she was close and eyeing me. Analyzing me. Considering
what she should do to me.


Just as suddenly, she bit my nipple. Hard.


"God!" I yelped. I jumped, jerking the rope
that held my legs and arms in place. The only response I got
was her laughter. I imagined her smiling face and lively
eyes as she enjoyed toying with me. Then, nothing once again;
no sound and no touch.


Once again, without warning, a touch to my nipple; a light
touch. It felt like a feather. Regardless, my body jerked
like I'd been bitten again. The anticipation was simply
amazing.


Slowly, I felt the feather move up my chest, to my face and
tickle my nose, forehead, and ears. Then, I felt the lightest
sensation of her breath against my face. So erotic! The
feathering continued down my shoulder, my arm, over my
chest, and down my stomach. I was quivering in anticipation,
knowing where it was moving to, and I began to buck my hips.



Just as quickly, I felt the slap of the flogger against my
straining cock, and then the dull thud against my thigh.
"Ow, " I yelled.


"Did that hurt, little boy?" she asked.


"God, yes, " I replied.


"No yellow?"


"No, Mistress. Please...please don't stop."



She just laughed in reply.


The light touch of the feather started again on my thigh
where I was struck and moved down to my knee. It then moved
to the opposite knee, and moved upwards. Finally, it lightly
brushed my cock. Again, I felt her breath, this time it was
against my cock. I was pulling at my binds, trying to grind
my cock into her mouth, to feel her lips on my cock. No such
luck.


I realized I must be straining towards a face that was no
longer there. I didn't sense her nearby, and then I
heard a sound at the other end of the room. It sounded like
someone opening a container of some sort.


I felt a weight shift on the pew, and I sensed that she was
standing over me. She grabbed my head and shoved my mouth
on her pussy. Startled for a moment, I quickly realized
what it was, and I began tonguing her. She was a little above
me, and I shoved my nose into her slit. My head was filled
with her scent, and I lapped her juices up like a thirsty
horse at the trough.


I heard her moaning, and I felt the urgency as she ground
her pussy into my face. I wanted so badly to be able to use
my hands to pull her into me, and to be able to see her face
and body. I licked and sucked her for minutes when she finally
spoke. "My clit. Suck my clit, James."


I found her clit, and sucked on it. I wished I could finger
her while I sucked her clit, but it didn't seem to matter
to her, as her moans became more urgent. Suddenly, she pulled
away from me, and I found myself gasping and trying to tongue
thin air. "Please, " I pleaded. "Please
let me finish!"


"Calm down, James, " was all she said. "You've
had enough. It's time to untie you."


I felt her hands untie my legs, and fumble trying to untie
my hands. It was strange, but she seemed unsure of herself.
Once free, but still blindfolded, she had me lay on the floor.
Not knowing what would come next, I was excited to feel her
stroke my cock, and then slide on a condom. Finally! She
was going to fuck me. Or so I thought.


I felt a sharp sting of the flogger against my stomach. Once,
twice, three times. "Can you take more, James? Are
you still game?" she asked.


Reacting to the emotional rollercoaster of the evening,
I could feel tears of frustration begin to form in my eyes.
I was happy that the blindfold hid them from her. I simply
said, "Yes, Mistress. I can take more."


"Excellent, " was all she said. I gasped as
she drove her pussy down on my dick and started pumping me
like crazy. I wasn't sure what I should do, but I couldn't
control myself. I ran my hands up her arms and over her heaving
tits, squeezing her nipple. I imagined the feral look of
excitement on her beautiful face, framed by her wavy hair,
and wet from perspiration.


I'd never fucked completely blind before, but the
sensation was amazing. She was in complete control of me
and all of my senses, and it was the greatest fuck of my life.
She was riding me like a wild stallion, and had chosen to
use my nipples as her reins. The pain and pleasure mixed
together was just driving me wild.


It's not surprising after all of the all night teasing,
but I quickly reached the point where I would cum. I felt
the urgency in my balls, and began groaning in rhythm to
her pumping me. She too was gasping to the same rhythm. I
was completely lost in the moment when she said, "You
may cum, James. Cum now!"


I came instantly. I came hard. I felt like I had been drugged.
After my explosion, I felt the weight of sleep dragging
me down before she dismounted me. I was beat. So much so,
that if she wanted more out of me tonight, she was going to
be sorely disappointed.


Sometime later, I was awakened by her nudging me in the butt
with her toes. "Huh?" I mumbled.


"Is that anyway to address me?" she asked in
her imperial tone.


"I'm...I'm sorry, Mistress. I must have
fallen asleep, " I stammered. I reached to remove
the blindfold, and she stopped me.


"Not quite yet. Get up." Once again, she led
me by the dick through the house. I could tell we had entered
the bathroom because of the cool tile floor against my feet.
"Now, stand still. I'll remove the blindfold."



Blinking against the light, I saw in the mirror a disheveled
man. Blood shot eyes, hair askew, with some serious red
marks on his chest and stomach. Concentrating a bit more,
I saw post-it notes all over my body.


I pulled the first one off my stomach. It read, "Your
abs are ok, but could be better." The next one said,
"Your butt needs work." The third, stuck to
my cock, read, "Get a Brazilian Wax job. Use Carla
Jacobs, and mention me."


I turned around and viewed my backside in the mirror. Both
my back and ass were scarlet. I looked at Miss Trish, who
looked as fresh as a daisy and back in her green dress.


"So, how was it James? Are you happy you answered my
ad?"


"Oh my God, Yes!" shot out of my mouth before
I could stop it. "It was the greatest experience I've
ever had!"


"Good, " she said. "There are a couple
more things." She handed me another post-it note
with a doctor's name and phone number. "If you
don't have a doctor to prescribe Viagra, this one will."
She smiled and added, "You might want to take a Viagra
when you get your wax job. Carla can be a lot of fun."



She went on, "I have two homework assignments for
you. Take the butt plug and wear it for at least an hour every
fourth day, but not more often. You don't want to permanently
stretch your sphincter, only make it flexible enough for
my future games. Second, it's time to get dressed.
Put this on."


She smiled and handed me the flesh colored lingerie. "I
seem to remember that you thought it was sexy."


Smiling, I pulled up the panties, and stretched them over
my now re-energized cock. I pulled the camisole over my
head, feeling foolish wearing it.


"Beautiful! I just love my little girly boy looking
so beautiful for me! So much for you not liking to be humiliated!
Look at that dick; hard as a rock!" she said while laughing.
"How many of your other limits are false?"


After several beats, she continued. "One last thing,
I expect you to wear it under your clothes as you go home tonight
and every Tuesday and Thursday. I will contact you for lunch
one of those days, and I will inspect you to ensure of your
compliance. Do you understand?"


Feeling completely ashamed, and unable to make eye contact,
I simply said, "Yes, Mistress."


She walked me to the door, watched me get dressed, and showed
me out. I heard the door's electronic lock engage as
I left.


I never really fully understood the concept behind a "walk
of shame", but I felt it as I walked back to my car, completely
exhausted, completely embarrassed and completely ready
for my next visit.

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i Really love to reed my memories of my first meeting with
a Dominant Lady

9/16/2015

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Outstanding story I can't wait for more .

8/14/2017

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great story waiting for more

11/2/2017

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Fantastic story, loved the suspense

11/12/2017