My BDSM Story 12
As far as suburban wives go, I’m very much the stereotypical one. The lady you see waving at you in church every Sunday and the woman you run into when shopping for groceries and trying to get the greatest discounts in the store are both me. However, I have a different point of view on the matter. Few people are aware of this aspect of the city. I’m a submissive in every sense of the word.
A wonderful family provided me with a wonderful upbringing; The early years of my life were fantastic. A decent church-going, white-bread-eating American girl, I was I was I was I was When I was eighteen years old, I had my first drink and lost my virginity. A whole new part of my personality was revealed as a result of that experience.
As a result of this experience, I discovered my sexual preferences. I wished there was more to this story. I recognized right away that I belonged in the submissive group of individuals. In my experience, the only form of porn that ever got me excited was BDSM, and I only wanted to be with guys who had a strong, commanding presence.
In college, I had numerous interesting, kinky lovers, but I married the one and only guy who has ever given me an orgasm, which was my husband. When I ask, he indulges me, despite his disapproval of my kinky side. I write erotica in order to make up for some of the aspects of myself that I feel are absent. It is BDSM erotica, to be exact. My true self, though, is an ordinary lady, and I believe that there are many more like me than you may imagine.
A story of mine is included herein.
At the bar of the hotel where we arranged to meet, I’m waiting with trepidation. In accordance with his instructions, I am dressed in a black slinky dress with nothing below and patent leather shoes. Because my boobs haven’t sagged yet, I can get away without wearing a bra, at least until it gets very cold outside. In my thirty-one years, I seem to be a decade younger. Even though I am skinny, my hips and breasts are naturally full.
I have dark hair that’s straight and does not curl. It’s possible that my eyes are a shade of hazel. It’s not often that I use makeup since I have a really clear complexion (tonight being an exception). After sipping my cosmo and keeping an eye on the clock, I begin to wonder whether he is really on his way.
My BDSM story 12
Allow me to transport you back a few weeks. On one particular night, I got a bit tipsy and decided to do something I’d always wanted to do. I created a profile on an adult social networking website. I completed the bare minimum. Name: Olivia (I’m not sure why I used my true name), age: thirty-one, nationality: American Relationship status is described as “single.” Three months ago, I shared a photo of myself from my trip in the Bahamas with the world.
In it, I’m dressed in a bikini that allows very little to be desired by the viewer’s imagination. Then I reached the section titled “About Me.” In the end, I couldn’t think of anything better to say than: “I believe I am submissive.” That’s all there is to it. It’s as simple as just four words.
I received a few responses over the following couple of days, but one in particular stood out. It came from a gentleman by the name of Grant. All he stated in his message was that I seemed like I was ‘trying to uncover my real self,’ and he provided me a phone number to call if I wanted to talk more. It took me a whole day of self-doubt and nail-biting before I finally decided to pick up the phone and call.
“Hello?” asks a deep, clearly male voice. “Hello?”
“Um. Hi. “Does this look like Grant?” I enquire.
“Yes. “Can I be of assistance to you?”
“Hello, my name is Olivia,” I say.
“Oh. Greetings, Olivia. As a result, from now on, you shall address to me as Sir instead of Madam. “Do you comprehend what I’m saying?”
“Yes. Um. “I mean, yeah, Sir,” I say.
We begin by chatting about myself, my life, and my prior sexual encounters, before moving on to other topics.
Grant has a lot of questions for me right now. Some questions are really difficult to answer. The topic of discussion then shifts to him. Grant is thirty-five years old, works as an architect, and enjoys playing basketball on the weekends with his friends.
Grant seems to be a seasoned Dom, according to what I’ve learned. He has had a number of casual BDSM meetings as well as a few of D/s partnerships. He is searching for a submissive that is interested in a long-term relationship with him. He claims that he is interested by my lack of experience and that he enjoys teaching new submissives, among other things.
Grant has requested that I email him pornographic photographs that I find appealing. Yes, I do. All the usual suspects are there: a lady tied down and blinded, and another of the same woman tied down and being fished on by a guy with muscular muscles Once I email him the photographs, he proceeds to tell me tales about his experiences. He tells me tales about interactions he’s had with different ladies over the last several years.
Then he begins to describe in great detail what he intends to do with me in the future. My desire to take out my vibrator while we’re still on the phone, along with Grant’s harsh yet eager tone, makes me want to do so, but Grant reminds me that I am not to masturbate until specifically instructed to do so by him.
We continue in this manner for almost a week and a half before agreeing to meet in a nice hotel in the city center. He instructs me what to dress, what time I should arrive, and where I should wait for him to arrive. The details of his instructions are quite explicit, and he makes it very plain that there will be repercussions if I do not follow them to the letter.
*****
We’re back in the present. “Hello Olivia,” says a familiar voice just as I’m about to conclude that the entire thing was a sick joke and that Grant isn’t coming. A familiar hand wraps around my waist and a familiar voice greets me. When I turn around, there is a gorgeous, extremely tall guy in front of me. He must be at least 6’4″ in height.
It’s cut and styled in such a way that it never really curls, despite the fact that he has sandy blonde hair that looks like it might naturally curl.
His eyes are a stunning shade of blue. Because he is clothed in a suit, I am unable to discern much about his physical appearance other than the fact that he is of average height and weight and looks to be muscular.
Before I get a chance to say anything, Grant tightens his grasp on my waist, dragging me to my feet, and kissing me on the lips. His mouth feels like it is on fire since it is so hot. He kisses my lips and parts them with his tongue with great enthusiasm. His tongue explores my mouth with more skill than any other man I have ever kissed. He is the most skilled kisser I have ever experienced. My knees start to feel like they’re made of Jell-O. Grant is now having to hold me up by my waist since I’ve fallen to the ground.
The room is ready, he adds, pulling his lips away from mine with a wicked smile on his face. “Do you want to come with me?” Only a positive nod from me can be mustered up. “Please respond to me. Now!”
“Yes, Sir,” says the narrator. I hardly manage to squeak out. Oh, my God, I’m not making a very good first impression right now! If it hadn’t been for all of those late-night phone conversations, Grant would have assumed I was deaf.
My calm is returning as Grant guides me to the elevator. I’m feeling better now. We enter the elevator and Grant selects the seventh floor by pressing the button on the control panel. We finally make it to our floor and then to our room. Grant opens the door for me and walks me inside the house. I can see that he has already made his way up to this location. Across the desk from the duffel bag is a glass of whiskey on the rocks, which serves as a nice complement. Grant seems to be able to feel my anxiousness.
“I’m so pleased I finally got to meet you Olivia,” he adds as he grins at me and says. You have a lovely appearance. Don’t be afraid to speak out. Everything I do will be in accordance with your wishes, and I will not go against your wishes. Keep your safe word in mind. “Do you recall what happened?”
“Sir, I understand your request. “It is’mercy,'” I say in response.
“You’re a good girl. Please take a few steps back so that I can have a good look at you. You are very stunning. “Please take off that dress so that I can check to see if you followed my directions.”
In the meanwhile, Grant pulls his suit jacket and tie off his shoulders and opens his collar and sleeves, revealing a revealing t-shirt below. In response to seeing my bare chest and backside, he smiles.
“Perfect.” This assurance brings a grin to my face and helps me feel even more at peace. It’s perplexing to me why I feel such a strong desire to please this guy. To be honest, this is the first time any of us has ever met.
“Get down on your hands and knees. Lowering of the eyes. “Do not say anything until I instruct you to.” Grant expresses himself in a forceful, but not threatening manner. Instantaneously, I bend my knees and cast my sight to the ground.
“Olivia, please tell me why you have come to be with me right now,” he begs.
The reason I’m there is because I want you to control me and show me what it is to be submissive.” My voice is trembling as I respond.
“Excellent work. Tonight, I have entire control over you. Your body is entirely mine to do with what I like. This is a story about me, not about you. You, on the other hand, will adore it. Eventually, you will ask me for more, and if you are very nice, I may just give you what you desire. Now, I’d want you to get up and go over to the bed with me. Take a few steps back and throw your ass up in the air.”
I follow instructions, yet I’m trembling. It is not out of fear, but rather out of expectation and want. There’s something about this guy that makes me want to entirely surrender to him and become his slave. Grant removes his shirt off his body. I steal a glance by peering over my shoulder and see that guy has a really strong physique. In addition to having well-toned muscles, he seems to be a very powerful man. I swiftly turn away from the screen and return to the bed.
“I was aware of it.” Grant expresses himself. The first time I saw you, I was going to be lenient, but now you’ve breached the rules and need to be punished.” I’d want you to be counted. “You will get thirty strokes,” the instructor says. He smacks the left side of my ass with his hand in a matter of seconds.
It hurts, and I’m caught aback by the situation.
“Ouch! One!” He places his right hand on the right side of his body.
“Two!” This continues for a total of thirteen more strokes till my ass is scorching all throughout, yet my body does not show signs of discomfort.
My pussy is completely soaked. He has come to a complete stop. What exactly is going on? He stated thirty, although it was only fifteen at the time. I won’t be left in suspense for long. Suddenly, I hear something thin and stinging fly through the air and settle on my behind. He is now riding with a riding crop. So I’m guessing he had one in his duffel bag at the time.
“Ah! Sixteen!” I take a deep breath. He brings it down once again.
I’d want to take you back a few weeks to explain something. On one particular night, I got a bit tipsy and decided to do something I’d been wanting to do for years. An adult website invited me to create a profile for myself.
Basic information was entered. Identifying information: Olivia (I’m not sure why I used my true name), age thirty-one, and marital status single. Currently, there is no romantic relationship. Three months ago, I shared a photo of myself taken on a trip in the Bahamas. The bikini I’m wearing in it leaves nothing to the imagination, which is a good thing. Afterwards, I reached the section titled “About Me.” “I believe I am submissive,” I typed since I wasn’t sure what else to say. Everything has been spoken and done. It’s as simple as just four words:
One particular communication stood out among the others that I received over the next several days. A guy called Grant had sent it to me. In his message, he claimed that I seemed like I was “trying to uncover my real self,” and he provided me a phone number to contact if I wanted to speak with him more. To finally pick up the phone and make the call, it took me a whole day of hesitation and nail-biting.
Hello?” comes a deep, clearly male voice from somewhere in the background.
“Um. Hi. It is, in fact, Grant.” What do you think?
“Yes. ‘How may I be of assistance?’
“Hello, my name is Olivia.”
“Oh. Thank you for reaching out to me today. As a result, from now on, you shall address to me as Sir instead of Sirs. Understand what I’m saying?” he asks.
“Yes. Um. Mr. President,” I mean “yes, Sir.”
We begin by chatting about myself, my life, and my prior sexual encounters, before moving on to other topics.
There are many questions that Grant asks. Several of these questions are quite difficult to respond to. The subject of his appearance comes up next in the discourse. Grant is thirty-five years old, works as an architect, and enjoys playing basketball on the weekends as much as everyone else. Grant seems to be a seasoned Dom, according to what I’ve heard. He has had a number of casual BDSM interactions as well as a few of D/s partnerships over the years. The proper submissive for him is someone he can commit to for the long haul.
He claims that he is interested by my lack of experience and that he enjoys teaching new submissives, which is true.
Occasionally, Grant may ask me to email him pornographic photographs that I find attractive or interesting. Yes, I believe that to be the truth. A lady is tied down and blinded in one video, while a woman is tied down and being fucked by a muscular guy in another video. He starts telling me tales as soon as I email him the photographs. A number of ladies have come up in conversation with him, and he tells me their experiences.
When I ask him what he wants to do with me, he goes into great detail about it. My desire to take out my vibrator while we’re still on the phone, along with Grant’s harsh yet eager tone, makes me want to do so, but Grant reminds me that I am not to masturbate until specifically instructed to do so by himself.
We continue in this manner for about a week and a half before agreeing to meet at a nice hotel in the city to discuss the matter further. It is him who specifies what I should dress, when I should arrive, and where I should wait for him. In his instructions, he is quite explicit, and he makes it abundantly obvious that there will be repercussions if I do not follow them exactly as instructed.
*****
Returning to the present moment. Just when I’m beginning to believe that everything was a sick joke and that Grant isn’t coming, I feel a familiar hand wrap around my waist and hear a familiar voice say, “Hello Olivia.” A attractive, extremely tall guy walks up to me as I turn around to look at him. It is required that he be at least 6’4″ tall. It’s trimmed and fashioned in such a way that it never actually curls, despite the fact that his sandy blonde hair seems to curl naturally.
A pair of stunning aquamarine eyes may be seen in him. His body is difficult to discern owing to his formal attire, other than the fact that he looks to be of average height and weight and to be muscular in appearance.
In the blink of an eye, Grant tightens his grasp around my waist, lifting me to my feet and lowering his head to kiss my cheek.
His mouth feels like it’s on fire since it’s so hot to the touch! He kisses me on the lips and parts them with his tongue with great enthusiasm. In comparison to any other guy I have ever kissed, his tongue explores my lips with more skill and dexterity. My knees begin to feel like they are made of Jell-O. Grant is now having to hold me up by my waist since I’ve fallen to the floor.
he smiles wickedly and takes his lips away from me, saying, “The room is all set up.” “Do you want to come with me? Only a positive nod from me can convey my response to this. I’m waiting for your response. Now!”
No, Sir,” the narrator replies. The last thing I say is, “I’m sorry.” Oh my goodness, I’m not making a good first impression. If it hadn’t been for all those late-night phone conversations, Grant would have assumed I was deaf.
As Grant walks me to the elevator, I am recovering my composure. In the elevator, Grant selects the seventh level and pushes it to take us there. As soon as we reach to our floor, we may go inside our room. Grant opens the door for me and walks me inside the house he has built. So he has already made his way up here, as far as I can tell.
On the desk, there’s a duffel bag, and next to it, there’s a tumbler of whiskey with ice. Apparently, Grant is aware of my trepidation.
“I am overjoyed to finally meet you Olivia,” he adds as he grins at me. You have a stunning appearance. Keep your nerves at bay. Everything I do will be in accordance with your wishes, and I will not go against your will. Keep your secret phrase in mind. “Can you recall what it was?” he said.
Sir, I’d want to thank you.” When I’m asked, I respond with the word “mercy.”
The girl is good, thank you. Move a little farther away from me so that I can have a better look at you. Your beauty is unrivalled. Taking off your clothing will allow me to verify that you followed my instructions.”
My dress falls to the floor as Grant removes his suit jacket and tie, as well as loosening the collars and sleeves of his shirt. Whenever he sees my bare body, he cracks up.
“Perfect.” This confirmation brings a grin to my face and makes me feel even more comfortable. It baffles me why I have such a strong want to please this guy. This is the first time any of us has ever met.
I want you to go down on your knees. Lowering of the pupils. Unless I direct you to do so, keep your mouth shut. According to Grant, his tone is forceful without being confrontational. Instantaneously, I bend my knees and fix my sight on the ground.
“Can you explain me why you’re here with me right now?” he demands of her.
The reason I’m there is because I want you to control me and teach me how to be a subservient subject. When I respond, my voice is unsteady.
[quote] “Excellent. My possession of you is full and total this evening! What I want to do with your body is entirely up to me. You aren’t the focus of this story; I am. You, on the other hand, are going to adore this. Eventually, you will ask me for more, and if you have been nice, I may just give you what you want. Right now, I’d want you to get to your feet and go over to the bedside table. Placing your hands on the edge of the bed with your ass in the air.”
However, my hands are trembling while I follow orders. It is not a result of dread, but rather of excitement and expectation. This guy has a certain allure that makes me want to abandon myself totally to him. Grant removes his shirt from under his tummy buttoned. I steal a glimpse by peering over my shoulder and see that guy has a really strong build. It is clear that he is incredibly powerful since his muscles are well-toned. Then I swiftly turn around and return to my bed.
Then I realized what I was seeing. Grant expresses his thoughts on the situation. The first time I saw you, I was going to be kind, but you’ve breached the rules and need to be punished.” I’d want you to be counted in my calculations. It is your turn to take thirty strokes.” He hits the left side of my ass with his hand in a hurried manner.
It hurts, and I’m taken away by how quickly it happened.
“Ouch! One!” In the right corner, he brings his hand down.
“Two!” As the torture continues, my ass is scorching all around, yet my body is deafeningly silent about the discomfort.
Everything about my pussy has been drenched to the skin. All of his actions have been taken away from him. Was there a miscommunication here? He stated thirty, but it was only fifteen when he said thirty. Not for long will I be left in a state of awe. Something whizzes through the air, and then something thin and stinging falls on my buttocks. His riding crop is now in use. In that duffel bag, I’m guessing he had one or two more.
“Ah! Sixteen!” I take a deep breath and exhale. After a while, he takes it down.
