Touch, sound, smell, taste and sight. I am a very sensitive person. Not one who is moody, but one who enjoys having my senses stimulated.
Especially touch and sound.
Harsh touches and cracking sounds.
Nothing thrills me more than a harsh blow waking up my nerve endings or the magical sound of something hitting my flesh. To be restrained while it is happening is even better.
As far back as I can remember, I have always been that way. I remember as a kid I'd dream that someone had me bound in some fashion while making me squirm with what they were doing to me.
I was captured by Indians and tortured.
A street gang would grab me off the street and it would be gang-bang time, complete with bonds and hours of sex.
I'd be transported back in history and get abducted by a ship load of pirates that knew how to treat a captive.
I'd dream of a future husband being a very demanding man who knew how to keep his wife in line with ropes, whips and cock.
And what became of these dreams?
They are being fulfilled daily. But that's getting ahead of my story, isn't it?
I think I had a typical childhood, except for my unusual dreams. I was popular at school, with both girls and boys. I made good grades, joined all the usual high school clubs and such. Was in the band, chorus and so on. Teachers seemed to like me as I never gave them much grief.
But there was always something missing that I could never quite reach.
Until I met Jason my freshman year in college.
Jason came breezing into my life exactly two months into my freshman year at State. When John, my date for the evening, introduced me to Jason I all but drooled. I was really quite pathetic.
My mouth dropped open and I'm sure my tongue was hanging out during the introduction. Not quite an auspicious beginning. But if you saw Jason (and if you were female, too, or even a segment of the male population too) I'm sure you would understand.
Jason stands six-five. Has light brown hair with golden streaks from the sun. Wide, and I mean, wide shoulders, rippled chest and stomach, narrow hips and legs that look like Gothic columns. Eyes a shade of blue that anyone would kill for. A firm, square face complete with a dented chin and dimples.
God, what a hunk and a half.
But there is much more to Jason than just mere looks. He has this aura that surrounds him, as if he is god, all powerful, all knowing, all everything. Just to look at him you know that he will be whatever he wants to be in life.
At that moment all I knew was I wanted to be part of him. In any oh way he wanted me. Underfoot. Hanging aloft. Tied in knots. Or in any manner whatsoever.
Without stretching the truth, I almost knelt at his feet during John's introduction. And the knowing smile that he gave me let me know that he knew how I felt. I was his and he knew it.
Reaching out his hand to me, I took it. All thoughts of John, of the others attending the party, of mom, of school and everything else, disappeared as his hand enveloped mine and led me to the dance floor.
When his arm came around my back and pulled me to him, smashing my nose into his chest, I knew I was totally lost. At that moment he could have killed me, or striped me naked on the dance floor, or fucked me and I would have been in total agreement with his desire.
But naturally nothing like that happened. All we did was dance. And dance and dance. I'm sure that some of those dances were fast ones, but we danced slow. My arms were around his neck and his around my body, occasionally a hand would slip down to grab my ass but I was far from protesting anything he did.
"You are mine," he said into my hair as he crushed me to his very solid frame.
I felt his huge, massive, aroused cock pressed into my stomach and didn't even pause to answer, "Yes."
"Good. I like women who know their place."
I wasn't quite sure what his words meant, but I sure wasn't going to argue with him about them. If he liked my response, I was more than content.
"Do you know your place, Kate?"
Know my place? I could hardly remember my name, but he did deserve an answer, so I asked, "With you?"
"Yes. With me. Let's go."
He took my hand and began to lead me out of the Delta House. I didn't even glance to see if John was there to say good-by to, in fact I wasn't even sure if I was aware of John at all.
The early November air was cool but I assigned my jacket to the lost and found department as he lead me to his car. Naturally it was a Vet. Naturally it was red. And naturally it was parked directly in front of the front door of Delta House. Where else would it be parked?
Jason didn't bother to open my door, and somehow I knew not to expect him to, as he just pointed and I followed the order of his finger as he slid into the driver's seat, started the engine, told me to fasten my seat belt, and we drove away into the night.
I had no idea where we were going and didn't give a damn either. All I cared about was I was with Jason and he was with me.
"Unbutton your blouse and take it off."
"I... I beg your pardon?"
"Take off your blouse now, or get out. Which is it to be?"
What a dumb assed question.
"The ahhh the blouse."
"I thought as much. Take it off and hand it here."
I never recalled having problems with my fingers before, but I sure as hell did then. For some reason it felt like I was the possessor of ten thumbs, all working a cross-purposes of each other. The buttons seemed to be five times bigger than the buttonholes, but I did finally manage to get them all undone.
Then it was a fight with the seat belt. I swear there were at least ten straps holding me in place as I tried to dodge them to get my arms out of the sleeves. But finally I did succeed in doing that simple chore, too, and handed it to Jason as he drove down the street.
"Sweet," he said when I handed him my blouse. A second later it was flying out his window to swirl around before landing on the blacktop as we sped away.
What had I gotten myself into this time?
I couldn't believe it. Here I was. With a total stranger. My blouse was lying somewhere on the road behind us. All I knew about him was that he turned me on like no one else had ever done.
But that did seem to be enough at the moment.
"Now the bra."
Bra? What was that?
"Take it off and give it to me."
Right.
Sure.
And you'll throw it out the window too, I suppose.
What could I do?
I took off the bra and handed it to him just like he wanted.
"Nice touch. I like silk." He tossed it in the back seat.
Maybe I could retrieve it later. But that was later. This was now. What would he do or say next?
"Place the seat belt between your tits. Good. Now lace your fingers together and put them behind your neck. I want your tits pointing straight out and available for my hand.
Fingers? Neck? Oh, yea, I can do that. Available for what?
His hand.
It was a very warm hand that touched my left tit. He slid his hand under my tit, as if weighing it. I recall wondering if it passed inspection or not.
It must have, because he began to rearrange it. He squeezed my tit. Pinched the nipple, which just happen to be hard and very aroused. Then he bounced my boob up and down as if he were dribbling a small ball attached to my chest.
Then his hand slid over to do the same with my right one as I struggled to hold still. Which wasn't easy. I was getting hotter than hell with each passing second and each touch.
But there was no way in hell that I'd do anything but what he said to do.
I really can't explain it. I knew that Jason and I were destined to be together. I knew he would fulfill all of my fantasies, and perhaps beyond.
So what did it matter that I was sitting naked from the waist up, driving down city streets for all to see, as Jason's hand took possession of my hot tits?
It didn't matter at all. I was precisely were I wanted to be. With the man I was destined to be with. And suddenly I was very glad that I came to him as a virgin. A very frustrated virgin, but a virgin nevertheless.
A horny virgin to boot. And getting hornier by the second.
Somehow it seemed appropriate that the passing street lights showed my bared tits to all who cared to look and see them. I had never really thought much about exhibitionism.
My dreams had always centered around the reception of pain and bonds. But if Jason wanted to show the world my body, I was more than wiling for it to be shown.
Then suddenly his hand was gone and he was down shifting the Vet and we were turning into a driveway.
I quickly came to the conclusion that Jason had the bucks at his disposal. The Vet was the first clue. His house the second.
Typically college students who lived off-campus did not live in the best of neighborhoods. That was not the case of Jason. As the garage door closed with a hum behind us, I almost classified his place as a mansion.
The fucking place had twelve Gothic columns along the front protocol. A quick glance at the rest of the space of the garage proved that five more cars could be parked there with ease.
I was pulled out of my revelry as Jason opened his door and stepped out, followed by his one word, "Come."
What could I do?
I opened the door and stepped out.
I must admit that I felt very conspicuous without any clothing on the upper half of my body, but I sure as hell didn't let that fact stop me from doing exactly as he said, as I followed him into the house.
Decadent splendor summed up the place.
Chandeliers. Plush carpeting. Rich wood. Antiques nestled in highly polished display cases. I saw those and much more as I followed silently in his wake as we passed through room after room.
Just as I was thinking about the obviously missing servants, one appeared. There was no doubt in my mind that she was a maid. But she was also much much more.
I'm sure many of you have seen or dreamed about the "French Maid", complete with skin tight mini skirt with white laced apron and cap atop a magnificent face. Well there she was, complete with blond hair most women would kill to have. And her body? Needless to say, I was envious.
And her reaction to my partial nudity?
She smiled and continued to polish a mirror as we passed.
Jason pinched her ass on the way by and she gave a very delightful squeal that I could only assume was pleasurable.
Jason obviously romped with his staff. And who could blame him, if she was an example. I wondered what the male staff was like, but quickly set aside that thought as we entered what could only be the master bedroom. Master?
Yes, that was the correct word and I suddenly knew what Jason's appeal was to me.
He was to become my master.
"Remove your clothes and stand by that chair. I'll be with you in a moment."
Instantly I began to obey his words as I thought that he seemed very sure of himself. But then that was what had attracted me in the first place.
I toed off my shoes, unzipped my skirt and pull it, half slit and panty hose to the floor and stepped out of them.
As I walked to the appointed chair I took in my surroundings.
The room was at least thirty by fifty. Massive, ornate furniture complemented the room beautifully. The bed, of course, was a four poster and I wasn't surprised in the least to see rings embedded in all four posts.
The entire wall to my left was a walk-in closet. To my right was the master bathroom, where Jason was. A balcony could be seen behind the sheer draperies of midnight blue. There was even a fireplace.
Yes, no doubt about it. Jason was fucking rich and wasn't ashamed of flaunting it.
As my cool fingers caressed the suede chair that I had been assigned to, Jason reentered the room.
Gone were the pullover shirt and jeans and in there place was leather. Leather pants that hugged his muscular legs and a leather vest that showed his well built chest to advantage.
His right hand held leather bands connected by short golden chains. His left a riding crop.
I felt a shiver of... lust? trickle down my spine as I recognized what he held in his hands.
I knew that shortly fantasy would become reality.
Would it be as good? I wondered.
Time would tell.
Tucking the crop under his arm, he took the leather bands and held them out toward me.
With only fantasy to work with, I knew what was expected of me as I lifted my hands, palms up, in front of me.
Neither of us spoke as he fastened the first one to my left wrist. Then still without speaking, he turned me around and I had enough sense to place my hands behind me as the right wrist became encircled with the stiff, padded leather.
The short, golden chain tickled my spine and goose bumps paraded up and down my entire body. The next instance his warm hand was pressing into my shoulder blades and I was being forced over the back of the suede chair.
I had never thought much about leather before, but as my stomach, chest and face came into contact with the soft, subtle suede I knew that I was addicted to having leather in my life.
"It's your first time, isn't it," came Jason's voice behind me as his hand reached out and touched my quivering ass, atop the back of the chair.
I almost jumped at his touch as I managed to get out a shaky, "Yes," as his hand explored my pleading flesh.
Would he whip me? Or just spank my ass? Whip, spank, ahh, such dreams. Dreams that would soon become reality.
How would I react to the pain?
I had dreamed of it often, but had never participated in the actual administration thereof. Would I take it in stride? Or would I whimper and scream?
I truly didn't know.
But I did know that I would never be the same when Jason was done with me.
His warm hand traveled over each buttock. Fingers wedged themselves in the crack. They dug deeper.
The tip of his finger gave a quick jab to my brownie, then slid down my lubricated track.
I spread my legs way out to the sides of the chair and was rewarded with his finger tip touching my pleading clit.
"It may be your first time, but you do know what you want, don't you?"
"I... ahah yes." I was almost past the stage of coherent speech, what with his magical hand and fingers.
"And what is that you want, Kate?"
What did I want? I thought amid my befuddled maundering.
"I... I ahh want you."
"Yes. I know that. But what do you want me to do to you?"
Do? How in the hell was I suppose to think at a time like that?
"I... ahhh I..."
"Come on. You can say it. What do you want me to do to you, Kate?"
"Hur... hurt me." There, I said it. I actually said it out loud and felt a release of tensions.
"Yes," his voice was calm and soothing. "You want to be hurt. I knew that the instance I saw you at the dance. Your eyes told me. They almost pleaded with me to harm you. But you want more than pain don't you?"
"More?"
"Yes. Much more. It is all new to you, isn't it?"
"What?"
"Everything. I bet you're a virgin, aren't you?"
How the hell did he know that? Well, however he knew it, there was no point in denying it, .after all he would learn shortly, wouldn't he?
"I... yesss I am. How did you know?"
"You told me."
"No, I didn't. I never said a word about it."
"Oh, but you did. Not with your voice but with your eyes and your body. You told me that you were a virgin. You want pain and bondage. You want to be a slave to your hidden lusts. Right now you are wondering if the kiss of the whip to your ass will be as good as you've imagined it to be, aren't you?"
Was this guy psyche? No one else ever saw that in my eyes or body. Did he really "read" me that well?
As I did him?
Was that it? Were we so in tune that we knew what the other wanted? I knew the moment I saw him that he would treat me the way I wanted. Was it the same for him?
"Answer my question, Kate."
Question? Oh, yea, about wondering if the pain will be as good as I dreamed it would be.
"Yes."
I heard him chuckle as he slipped his finger up my wet track and I swear to God I could feel him touch my blasted cherry with his finger tip.
"A frustrated virgin. A frustrated, pain loving, tie-her-up, virgin. I knew there was a God."
He pulled his finger out of me and I almost cried with its loss.
"Tell me, where do you want to be hurt first? Does your pussy want to feel the kiss of the crop? Or is it your ass? Perhaps your tits? Or do you want to be hurt all over at the same time? Tell me," his finger jabbed into me again pressing against my cherry, "where do you want it first?"
"I... ahh I..."
"Tell me, Kate. Where do you want to be hurt first? I want to make you happy, tell me. If you want to be hurt with twenty whips at the same time for your first, I'll arrange it."
Twenty at once?
How?
What did I want?
How the hell was I suppose to answer questions when he was driving me insane?
I buried my face in the soft suede and almost cried with frustration. "I... I don't know."
"Ahhhh it must be hell. So frustrated. So excited to have dreams become reality. But not knowing what you want. Do you want me to choose? Is that it?"
"Yesss." The perfect option.
"Such a charmer. I'd be delighted to choose."
He paused for a moment.
Again he withdrew his finger from my snatch, and I knew he stood up straight behind me.
"Stand up and turn around."
I didn't think I had enough strength to comply and it was awkward as hell. But digging my toes into the floor, my knees into the back of the chair, I did manage to stand and turn to face him.
But I didn't have the nerve to look into his eyes. He easily solved that problem by using the stiff crop under my chin to raise my head until I was forced to met his eyes. And his smile.
"Care to hear my choice?"
Speech was beyond my ability. I nodded my head.
He smiled again.
"I choose the first to be your pussy."
Visions of the crop slamming into my tender pussy made me gasp. But it was a gasp of longing. How did he know?
Yes, I had dreamed of my ass and tits being whipped, but the most recurring dream was of my pussy being abused until I screamed with pain/pleasure.
"And you are going to offer up your pussy for the crop, aren't you?"
Again I nodded my head. He did understand me. More than I did myself.
"Come and sit on the end of the bed." Stiff, quivering legs carried me forward as he placed his hand on my elbow and led me to the massive bed. As I sat on the cool satin spread I couldn't help but look at the hooks embedded in the posts beside me.
"The hooks fascinate you, don't they? But we won't use them now because you are going to offer your pussy to my whip. Lay back."
The satin sent chills all over me as I laid back, my ass perched on the edge, feet on the floor, and hands pressed into the small of my back.
How was I going to offer him my pussy?
Could I really do it?
Or would I chicken out?
"Now raise your legs and reach your feet to the posts."
That answered that question.
If I did as told there would be no way he could miss whipping my opened pussy.
I raised my legs and spread them as wide as I could as Jason stepped between them, crop in hand.
"Such a pretty pussy. Will it like the pain?"
I saw him raise the crop and bring it toward my opened pussy. And I couldn't help it. I started to bring my legs together.
He laid the flared end at the top of my pussy. "Ahh the doubt remains, doesn't it? Spread your legs, Kate. Spread them for your pain. That's it. Wider. Try to imagine how much this can hurt you."
He used the flared end gently. Sliding it up and down my quaking opening. Up and down. Dipping in and Out of my wet flesh as my legs opened and closed.
I was afraid.
I was curious.
I was horny as hell.
Back and forth it went. In and out went my legs. I couldn't keep them opened.
He wasn't hurting me. Far from it. He was teasing the hell out of me. Just when I thought he would use the crop to inflict pain and I'd close my legs around it, he slid it back and forth driving me more insane with each passing second and touch.
"I won't hurt you until you want me to. When you are ready all you have to do is keep your legs open. The decision is yours. It will always be yours."
Back and forth the crop went, getting wetter and wetter with each passing as my legs continued to move in and out like a yo-yo on a string.
Until I could stand it no longer.
Taking a deep breath, I stretched my legs toward the posts, my toes curled around them and I closed my eyes.
"Dooo it, for God's sake do it," I screamed out in total frustration. I knew, I knew that he would continue to run the crop in and out of me, up and down my pussy until I kept my legs out of the way. And I knew, just as he did, that eventually I would keep my legs out of the way, if for no other reason than curiosity.
But curiosity was fast loosing its appeal as hominess took over. I just had to know how the crop would feel on my opened pussy.
"Open your eyes, Kate. I want you to watch the crop come at your opened pussy. I want to see your reaction."
My eyes snapped open to see him.
Slowly, as giving me time to change my mind, he brought the crop up between my legs. I had the sudden urge to close my legs but kept them firmly at my sides, toes curled around the bed posts as the crop started to descend.
But it descended slowly. Slowly. Until it gave my pussy another gently tap.
"Oh, yes. A true pain lover. Watch the crop, Kate, because it will give you the pain you want this time. Watch it."
Watch it I did.
In a blur of speed Jason raised the crop and brought it crashing down to my opened pussy.
Instantly my body registered massive pain. It felt like my pussy was on fire. Somehow he had managed to land the flared head directly on, not only my clit, but both blood filled lips at the same time.
Roaring fire flooded my sopping pussy, instantly followed by a climax so intense my pussy leaped off the supporting bed and jerked in the air. My toes dug into the posts so deeply that they supported the entire lower half of my body as I quivered, shook and came until I crashed totally spent.
I don't know what Jason thought of my reactions but all I could think was, "Yes. Yes. Yes"
With just one, granted it was a very firm one, I was climaxing. Fantasy and reality had become one. I knew that my life from there on would never be the same.
I had tasted pain and could never deny it again.
Gone were dreams. I knew what I wanted. What I needed in my life.
Pain and Jason.
Especially touch and sound.
Harsh touches and cracking sounds.
Nothing thrills me more than a harsh blow waking up my nerve endings or the magical sound of something hitting my flesh. To be restrained while it is happening is even better.
As far back as I can remember, I have always been that way. I remember as a kid I'd dream that someone had me bound in some fashion while making me squirm with what they were doing to me.
I was captured by Indians and tortured.
A street gang would grab me off the street and it would be gang-bang time, complete with bonds and hours of sex.
I'd be transported back in history and get abducted by a ship load of pirates that knew how to treat a captive.
I'd dream of a future husband being a very demanding man who knew how to keep his wife in line with ropes, whips and cock.
And what became of these dreams?
They are being fulfilled daily. But that's getting ahead of my story, isn't it?
I think I had a typical childhood, except for my unusual dreams. I was popular at school, with both girls and boys. I made good grades, joined all the usual high school clubs and such. Was in the band, chorus and so on. Teachers seemed to like me as I never gave them much grief.
But there was always something missing that I could never quite reach.
Until I met Jason my freshman year in college.
Jason came breezing into my life exactly two months into my freshman year at State. When John, my date for the evening, introduced me to Jason I all but drooled. I was really quite pathetic.
My mouth dropped open and I'm sure my tongue was hanging out during the introduction. Not quite an auspicious beginning. But if you saw Jason (and if you were female, too, or even a segment of the male population too) I'm sure you would understand.
Jason stands six-five. Has light brown hair with golden streaks from the sun. Wide, and I mean, wide shoulders, rippled chest and stomach, narrow hips and legs that look like Gothic columns. Eyes a shade of blue that anyone would kill for. A firm, square face complete with a dented chin and dimples.
God, what a hunk and a half.
But there is much more to Jason than just mere looks. He has this aura that surrounds him, as if he is god, all powerful, all knowing, all everything. Just to look at him you know that he will be whatever he wants to be in life.
At that moment all I knew was I wanted to be part of him. In any oh way he wanted me. Underfoot. Hanging aloft. Tied in knots. Or in any manner whatsoever.
Without stretching the truth, I almost knelt at his feet during John's introduction. And the knowing smile that he gave me let me know that he knew how I felt. I was his and he knew it.
Reaching out his hand to me, I took it. All thoughts of John, of the others attending the party, of mom, of school and everything else, disappeared as his hand enveloped mine and led me to the dance floor.
When his arm came around my back and pulled me to him, smashing my nose into his chest, I knew I was totally lost. At that moment he could have killed me, or striped me naked on the dance floor, or fucked me and I would have been in total agreement with his desire.
But naturally nothing like that happened. All we did was dance. And dance and dance. I'm sure that some of those dances were fast ones, but we danced slow. My arms were around his neck and his around my body, occasionally a hand would slip down to grab my ass but I was far from protesting anything he did.
"You are mine," he said into my hair as he crushed me to his very solid frame.
I felt his huge, massive, aroused cock pressed into my stomach and didn't even pause to answer, "Yes."
"Good. I like women who know their place."
I wasn't quite sure what his words meant, but I sure wasn't going to argue with him about them. If he liked my response, I was more than content.
"Do you know your place, Kate?"
Know my place? I could hardly remember my name, but he did deserve an answer, so I asked, "With you?"
"Yes. With me. Let's go."
He took my hand and began to lead me out of the Delta House. I didn't even glance to see if John was there to say good-by to, in fact I wasn't even sure if I was aware of John at all.
The early November air was cool but I assigned my jacket to the lost and found department as he lead me to his car. Naturally it was a Vet. Naturally it was red. And naturally it was parked directly in front of the front door of Delta House. Where else would it be parked?
Jason didn't bother to open my door, and somehow I knew not to expect him to, as he just pointed and I followed the order of his finger as he slid into the driver's seat, started the engine, told me to fasten my seat belt, and we drove away into the night.
I had no idea where we were going and didn't give a damn either. All I cared about was I was with Jason and he was with me.
"Unbutton your blouse and take it off."
"I... I beg your pardon?"
"Take off your blouse now, or get out. Which is it to be?"
What a dumb assed question.
"The ahhh the blouse."
"I thought as much. Take it off and hand it here."
I never recalled having problems with my fingers before, but I sure as hell did then. For some reason it felt like I was the possessor of ten thumbs, all working a cross-purposes of each other. The buttons seemed to be five times bigger than the buttonholes, but I did finally manage to get them all undone.
Then it was a fight with the seat belt. I swear there were at least ten straps holding me in place as I tried to dodge them to get my arms out of the sleeves. But finally I did succeed in doing that simple chore, too, and handed it to Jason as he drove down the street.
"Sweet," he said when I handed him my blouse. A second later it was flying out his window to swirl around before landing on the blacktop as we sped away.
What had I gotten myself into this time?
I couldn't believe it. Here I was. With a total stranger. My blouse was lying somewhere on the road behind us. All I knew about him was that he turned me on like no one else had ever done.
But that did seem to be enough at the moment.
"Now the bra."
Bra? What was that?
"Take it off and give it to me."
Right.
Sure.
And you'll throw it out the window too, I suppose.
What could I do?
I took off the bra and handed it to him just like he wanted.
"Nice touch. I like silk." He tossed it in the back seat.
Maybe I could retrieve it later. But that was later. This was now. What would he do or say next?
"Place the seat belt between your tits. Good. Now lace your fingers together and put them behind your neck. I want your tits pointing straight out and available for my hand.
Fingers? Neck? Oh, yea, I can do that. Available for what?
His hand.
It was a very warm hand that touched my left tit. He slid his hand under my tit, as if weighing it. I recall wondering if it passed inspection or not.
It must have, because he began to rearrange it. He squeezed my tit. Pinched the nipple, which just happen to be hard and very aroused. Then he bounced my boob up and down as if he were dribbling a small ball attached to my chest.
Then his hand slid over to do the same with my right one as I struggled to hold still. Which wasn't easy. I was getting hotter than hell with each passing second and each touch.
But there was no way in hell that I'd do anything but what he said to do.
I really can't explain it. I knew that Jason and I were destined to be together. I knew he would fulfill all of my fantasies, and perhaps beyond.
So what did it matter that I was sitting naked from the waist up, driving down city streets for all to see, as Jason's hand took possession of my hot tits?
It didn't matter at all. I was precisely were I wanted to be. With the man I was destined to be with. And suddenly I was very glad that I came to him as a virgin. A very frustrated virgin, but a virgin nevertheless.
A horny virgin to boot. And getting hornier by the second.
Somehow it seemed appropriate that the passing street lights showed my bared tits to all who cared to look and see them. I had never really thought much about exhibitionism.
My dreams had always centered around the reception of pain and bonds. But if Jason wanted to show the world my body, I was more than wiling for it to be shown.
Then suddenly his hand was gone and he was down shifting the Vet and we were turning into a driveway.
I quickly came to the conclusion that Jason had the bucks at his disposal. The Vet was the first clue. His house the second.
Typically college students who lived off-campus did not live in the best of neighborhoods. That was not the case of Jason. As the garage door closed with a hum behind us, I almost classified his place as a mansion.
The fucking place had twelve Gothic columns along the front protocol. A quick glance at the rest of the space of the garage proved that five more cars could be parked there with ease.
I was pulled out of my revelry as Jason opened his door and stepped out, followed by his one word, "Come."
What could I do?
I opened the door and stepped out.
I must admit that I felt very conspicuous without any clothing on the upper half of my body, but I sure as hell didn't let that fact stop me from doing exactly as he said, as I followed him into the house.
Decadent splendor summed up the place.
Chandeliers. Plush carpeting. Rich wood. Antiques nestled in highly polished display cases. I saw those and much more as I followed silently in his wake as we passed through room after room.
Just as I was thinking about the obviously missing servants, one appeared. There was no doubt in my mind that she was a maid. But she was also much much more.
I'm sure many of you have seen or dreamed about the "French Maid", complete with skin tight mini skirt with white laced apron and cap atop a magnificent face. Well there she was, complete with blond hair most women would kill to have. And her body? Needless to say, I was envious.
And her reaction to my partial nudity?
She smiled and continued to polish a mirror as we passed.
Jason pinched her ass on the way by and she gave a very delightful squeal that I could only assume was pleasurable.
Jason obviously romped with his staff. And who could blame him, if she was an example. I wondered what the male staff was like, but quickly set aside that thought as we entered what could only be the master bedroom. Master?
Yes, that was the correct word and I suddenly knew what Jason's appeal was to me.
He was to become my master.
"Remove your clothes and stand by that chair. I'll be with you in a moment."
Instantly I began to obey his words as I thought that he seemed very sure of himself. But then that was what had attracted me in the first place.
I toed off my shoes, unzipped my skirt and pull it, half slit and panty hose to the floor and stepped out of them.
As I walked to the appointed chair I took in my surroundings.
The room was at least thirty by fifty. Massive, ornate furniture complemented the room beautifully. The bed, of course, was a four poster and I wasn't surprised in the least to see rings embedded in all four posts.
The entire wall to my left was a walk-in closet. To my right was the master bathroom, where Jason was. A balcony could be seen behind the sheer draperies of midnight blue. There was even a fireplace.
Yes, no doubt about it. Jason was fucking rich and wasn't ashamed of flaunting it.
As my cool fingers caressed the suede chair that I had been assigned to, Jason reentered the room.
Gone were the pullover shirt and jeans and in there place was leather. Leather pants that hugged his muscular legs and a leather vest that showed his well built chest to advantage.
His right hand held leather bands connected by short golden chains. His left a riding crop.
I felt a shiver of... lust? trickle down my spine as I recognized what he held in his hands.
I knew that shortly fantasy would become reality.
Would it be as good? I wondered.
Time would tell.
Tucking the crop under his arm, he took the leather bands and held them out toward me.
With only fantasy to work with, I knew what was expected of me as I lifted my hands, palms up, in front of me.
Neither of us spoke as he fastened the first one to my left wrist. Then still without speaking, he turned me around and I had enough sense to place my hands behind me as the right wrist became encircled with the stiff, padded leather.
The short, golden chain tickled my spine and goose bumps paraded up and down my entire body. The next instance his warm hand was pressing into my shoulder blades and I was being forced over the back of the suede chair.
I had never thought much about leather before, but as my stomach, chest and face came into contact with the soft, subtle suede I knew that I was addicted to having leather in my life.
"It's your first time, isn't it," came Jason's voice behind me as his hand reached out and touched my quivering ass, atop the back of the chair.
I almost jumped at his touch as I managed to get out a shaky, "Yes," as his hand explored my pleading flesh.
Would he whip me? Or just spank my ass? Whip, spank, ahh, such dreams. Dreams that would soon become reality.
How would I react to the pain?
I had dreamed of it often, but had never participated in the actual administration thereof. Would I take it in stride? Or would I whimper and scream?
I truly didn't know.
But I did know that I would never be the same when Jason was done with me.
His warm hand traveled over each buttock. Fingers wedged themselves in the crack. They dug deeper.
The tip of his finger gave a quick jab to my brownie, then slid down my lubricated track.
I spread my legs way out to the sides of the chair and was rewarded with his finger tip touching my pleading clit.
"It may be your first time, but you do know what you want, don't you?"
"I... ahah yes." I was almost past the stage of coherent speech, what with his magical hand and fingers.
"And what is that you want, Kate?"
What did I want? I thought amid my befuddled maundering.
"I... I ahh want you."
"Yes. I know that. But what do you want me to do to you?"
Do? How in the hell was I suppose to think at a time like that?
"I... ahhh I..."
"Come on. You can say it. What do you want me to do to you, Kate?"
"Hur... hurt me." There, I said it. I actually said it out loud and felt a release of tensions.
"Yes," his voice was calm and soothing. "You want to be hurt. I knew that the instance I saw you at the dance. Your eyes told me. They almost pleaded with me to harm you. But you want more than pain don't you?"
"More?"
"Yes. Much more. It is all new to you, isn't it?"
"What?"
"Everything. I bet you're a virgin, aren't you?"
How the hell did he know that? Well, however he knew it, there was no point in denying it, .after all he would learn shortly, wouldn't he?
"I... yesss I am. How did you know?"
"You told me."
"No, I didn't. I never said a word about it."
"Oh, but you did. Not with your voice but with your eyes and your body. You told me that you were a virgin. You want pain and bondage. You want to be a slave to your hidden lusts. Right now you are wondering if the kiss of the whip to your ass will be as good as you've imagined it to be, aren't you?"
Was this guy psyche? No one else ever saw that in my eyes or body. Did he really "read" me that well?
As I did him?
Was that it? Were we so in tune that we knew what the other wanted? I knew the moment I saw him that he would treat me the way I wanted. Was it the same for him?
"Answer my question, Kate."
Question? Oh, yea, about wondering if the pain will be as good as I dreamed it would be.
"Yes."
I heard him chuckle as he slipped his finger up my wet track and I swear to God I could feel him touch my blasted cherry with his finger tip.
"A frustrated virgin. A frustrated, pain loving, tie-her-up, virgin. I knew there was a God."
He pulled his finger out of me and I almost cried with its loss.
"Tell me, where do you want to be hurt first? Does your pussy want to feel the kiss of the crop? Or is it your ass? Perhaps your tits? Or do you want to be hurt all over at the same time? Tell me," his finger jabbed into me again pressing against my cherry, "where do you want it first?"
"I... ahh I..."
"Tell me, Kate. Where do you want to be hurt first? I want to make you happy, tell me. If you want to be hurt with twenty whips at the same time for your first, I'll arrange it."
Twenty at once?
How?
What did I want?
How the hell was I suppose to answer questions when he was driving me insane?
I buried my face in the soft suede and almost cried with frustration. "I... I don't know."
"Ahhhh it must be hell. So frustrated. So excited to have dreams become reality. But not knowing what you want. Do you want me to choose? Is that it?"
"Yesss." The perfect option.
"Such a charmer. I'd be delighted to choose."
He paused for a moment.
Again he withdrew his finger from my snatch, and I knew he stood up straight behind me.
"Stand up and turn around."
I didn't think I had enough strength to comply and it was awkward as hell. But digging my toes into the floor, my knees into the back of the chair, I did manage to stand and turn to face him.
But I didn't have the nerve to look into his eyes. He easily solved that problem by using the stiff crop under my chin to raise my head until I was forced to met his eyes. And his smile.
"Care to hear my choice?"
Speech was beyond my ability. I nodded my head.
He smiled again.
"I choose the first to be your pussy."
Visions of the crop slamming into my tender pussy made me gasp. But it was a gasp of longing. How did he know?
Yes, I had dreamed of my ass and tits being whipped, but the most recurring dream was of my pussy being abused until I screamed with pain/pleasure.
"And you are going to offer up your pussy for the crop, aren't you?"
Again I nodded my head. He did understand me. More than I did myself.
"Come and sit on the end of the bed." Stiff, quivering legs carried me forward as he placed his hand on my elbow and led me to the massive bed. As I sat on the cool satin spread I couldn't help but look at the hooks embedded in the posts beside me.
"The hooks fascinate you, don't they? But we won't use them now because you are going to offer your pussy to my whip. Lay back."
The satin sent chills all over me as I laid back, my ass perched on the edge, feet on the floor, and hands pressed into the small of my back.
How was I going to offer him my pussy?
Could I really do it?
Or would I chicken out?
"Now raise your legs and reach your feet to the posts."
That answered that question.
If I did as told there would be no way he could miss whipping my opened pussy.
I raised my legs and spread them as wide as I could as Jason stepped between them, crop in hand.
"Such a pretty pussy. Will it like the pain?"
I saw him raise the crop and bring it toward my opened pussy. And I couldn't help it. I started to bring my legs together.
He laid the flared end at the top of my pussy. "Ahh the doubt remains, doesn't it? Spread your legs, Kate. Spread them for your pain. That's it. Wider. Try to imagine how much this can hurt you."
He used the flared end gently. Sliding it up and down my quaking opening. Up and down. Dipping in and Out of my wet flesh as my legs opened and closed.
I was afraid.
I was curious.
I was horny as hell.
Back and forth it went. In and out went my legs. I couldn't keep them opened.
He wasn't hurting me. Far from it. He was teasing the hell out of me. Just when I thought he would use the crop to inflict pain and I'd close my legs around it, he slid it back and forth driving me more insane with each passing second and touch.
"I won't hurt you until you want me to. When you are ready all you have to do is keep your legs open. The decision is yours. It will always be yours."
Back and forth the crop went, getting wetter and wetter with each passing as my legs continued to move in and out like a yo-yo on a string.
Until I could stand it no longer.
Taking a deep breath, I stretched my legs toward the posts, my toes curled around them and I closed my eyes.
"Dooo it, for God's sake do it," I screamed out in total frustration. I knew, I knew that he would continue to run the crop in and out of me, up and down my pussy until I kept my legs out of the way. And I knew, just as he did, that eventually I would keep my legs out of the way, if for no other reason than curiosity.
But curiosity was fast loosing its appeal as hominess took over. I just had to know how the crop would feel on my opened pussy.
"Open your eyes, Kate. I want you to watch the crop come at your opened pussy. I want to see your reaction."
My eyes snapped open to see him.
Slowly, as giving me time to change my mind, he brought the crop up between my legs. I had the sudden urge to close my legs but kept them firmly at my sides, toes curled around the bed posts as the crop started to descend.
But it descended slowly. Slowly. Until it gave my pussy another gently tap.
"Oh, yes. A true pain lover. Watch the crop, Kate, because it will give you the pain you want this time. Watch it."
Watch it I did.
In a blur of speed Jason raised the crop and brought it crashing down to my opened pussy.
Instantly my body registered massive pain. It felt like my pussy was on fire. Somehow he had managed to land the flared head directly on, not only my clit, but both blood filled lips at the same time.
Roaring fire flooded my sopping pussy, instantly followed by a climax so intense my pussy leaped off the supporting bed and jerked in the air. My toes dug into the posts so deeply that they supported the entire lower half of my body as I quivered, shook and came until I crashed totally spent.
I don't know what Jason thought of my reactions but all I could think was, "Yes. Yes. Yes"
With just one, granted it was a very firm one, I was climaxing. Fantasy and reality had become one. I knew that my life from there on would never be the same.
I had tasted pain and could never deny it again.
Gone were dreams. I knew what I wanted. What I needed in my life.
Pain and Jason.
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