“Well, I’m glad you’re cool.”
We talked for a little while longer, her telling me what Trevor said and me complaining about work the next day. We said we would get together later in the week and then said our goodbyes. Great friends like her were hard to find, and I really needed to see her in person to explain my wild night.
With the shower still going, I was relieved that Trevor wasn’t here in my face. I wanted to have my last fleeting moments of my thoughts about Kyle before I took a shower and washed all traces of him away. I wasn’t naïve; I knew that just because we had sex, that didn’t mean that Kyle was my new boyfriend. Maybe we were friends with benefits, or maybe it was a one-time ordeal. Whether it happened again or not, I felt great.
I made a mental itinerary of the rest of my evening. Take a shower, change into pajamas, order some food for us, and go to sleep. Trevor wouldn’t be any more trouble today, so at least I could recuperate in peace.
That was until I received a text message.
My buzzing phone illuminated Kyle’s newly-saved phone number.
“Monroe and Main. 9pm.”
Dammit. I wanted to get some rest. I would have to be at work tomorrow, and there was no calling out just because the one-night stand turned into a two-night gig.
But I couldn’t tell him no.
“Yes,” I texted back. I had to see him one last time. The least I could do was tell him thank you. I couldn’t leave Trevor now, but I was still a changed person, and it was all because of Kyle.
One night, one person, one cock, and I was now a new woman.
*****
I did as he said, meeting him at Monroe Avenue and Main Street under the streetlight. At nine-o’-clock sharp, I was there, pacing back and forth. I wasn’t sure what to wear, but heels were out of the question. My thighs were still tight from the night before. I opted for jeans, flats, and a sweater. My hair was tied up in a bun and I brought a jacket to cover me.
This secret rendezvous was exciting, but I was more worried about getting home in time to get rested for work than I was about meeting with Kyle. Meanwhile, Trevor was at home, tucked away in bed and sleeping. He had no idea I was gone, and that was the way I wanted to keep it.
Turning around I saw him, as if Kyle appeared out of thin air. I smiled, crossing my fingers that I could tell him this news and leave before he coaxed me into repeating last night.
“Hey, Kyle. I just wanted to say thanks for last night. I’m staying with Trevor, and I’m sorry if I led you on.” My rehearsed lines came out pretty effortlessly. I couldn’t believe I said it all like I planned, but Kyle was unfazed.
“What do you want?” he asked me.
Was this a trick question? I looked at him, studying his face. Looking behind me, I checked to see if he was really talking to me.
“What do you want out of life?” he clarified, and that was better, but still, why ask me these questions?
“No hello? No nice to see you?” I laughed at him, but he didn’t return my smile. His face was intensely serious.
“Last night, you told me a crazy story of a woman that was desperate. What made you that way, and how do you want to change it?”
Wow, this was a lot for a second date, if that was what you could call this. Standing out in the cold on a street corner discussing my life decisions, I felt exposed, like a newborn baby coming into the world. I couldn’t understand why he wanted to bring this up.
I pretended to watch a car driving down the street, anything so I didn’t have to look into his eyes and tell him the truth.
“Are you going to answer me?” Grabbing my shoulders, he forced me to look at him. Looking at his square jaws, slim arms and built torso, I could tell that he’d never had the issues that I had.
“You’ve never been made fun of because you’re fat.” I went back to that place when I was teased in the school yard. “Sammy the Fatty, they used to call me. I never had anyone that liked me for me until Trevor.” The tears came down with the realization that the only person that really could stand me was a drunk.
“That’s not true. Your size has nothing to do with it. Your confidence is in here.” He tapped my chest right above my heart. “You are beautiful, and those men do not define you.”
Him saying that made me look up. What was he trying to prove? He’d already had sex with me and probably could again, if he wanted to. There was no need for this.
“If you want to change, I can show you how.”
I nodded to him not, even though I still didn’t haven’t a clue what all this meant.
He took my hand, leading me down the street.
“I think you’re ready now. This is going to change your life.”
With a stranger in the dark, I walked into the unknown. If Kyle could really change my life like he said he could, I would have walked with him into the sun.
Maybe it was time for a change in my life. Maybe this change would be for the better, for once.
“But where are you taking me?” I asked. The inquisitive side of me had to know.
He stopped, looking me in the eyes and smoothing the hair from my face.
“I am going to show you the Dom Den.”
*****
The Dom Den was a secret place. There were no big neon signs or a parade of naked people indicating that there were sexual fantasies that took place there. From the outside, no one would have known what it was; it was just a three-level brownstone to the naked eye.
“Come on. They’re starting already.”
Kyle led the way, picking up the pace toward the front door. A few other people were in front of us. Getting into the house, it felt more like a dinner party. People were laughing and joking, and from the looks of the inside from the door, everyone was having a good time.
“Name, please,” a girl holding a clipboard asked at the door.
“The Keeper, plus one.”
I looked at Kyle like I had never seen him before. The Keeper? That was new.
“Go right in. The show is about to start,” the girl said with her dirty blonde hair blowing in the wind. Her white-collared shirt was buttoned all the way to the top and tucked into faux leather pants. I wasn’t sure what her role was as we entered the house.
Bright lights glared from above and some classical music played. Everyone mingled with a glass of wine—or some sort of glass—in their hands.
Traveling deeper into the house, everything seemed normal—like a dinner party with friends. Some of them knew Kyle, exchanging handshakes and hugs with him and smiling at me.
Getting to the dining room, there were a group of people already seated. Standing near the table was a woman that took my breath away.
She was naked—well, almost naked; she did have on a tie. Her hands appeared to be fastened behind her back.
“What is this?” I whispered in Kyle’s ear.
The smile on his face gave no response. He only pointed across the room.
My eyes followed his finger to a woman dressed entirely in black. Seeing the paddle in her hand, I didn’t need to ask who she was. She informed us.
“Your attention, please.” She began walking towards the naked woman with the tie. Her full figure was what struck me most. Hell, she was even bigger than I was, with wide hips leading down to thunder thighs that were wrapped in black leather pants. A black corset pushed her breasts up to a point of nearly overflow
“I am your Mistress tonight; Mistress Diana. Welcome to the Dom Den Theater.”
Everyone clapped as if we were watching a feature film or play.
“Tonight, I have a submissive that won’t comply.” I looked at Kyle, but he was already looking at me. He grabbed my hand and held it.
As a waiter walked around with a tray of full wine glasses, Kyle stopped her and grabbed two for us. He handed one to me, and I took a big gulp as the Mistress’ voice boomed through the house.
“Now, sub. It is time for your punishment.”
I wish I knew what the woman
had done. What was provoking whatever was going to happen?
The Mistress swung the paddle up in the air for all to see. The naked woman looked straight ahead, her back straight and head high. Her face held a slight grin; it seemed like she was enjoying this. I wasn’t sure if I could stand naked in a room in front of complete strangers.
“Now, sub. Turn around and assume the position.” The Mistress slapped the paddle against her own palm as her sub turned her back to the crowd, bending over a chair and showing her ass to us—a round ass that already looked red. I held my breath, unsure of what was going to happen next.
“Now, sub. Tell everyone what you told me earlier.” Her voice echoed throughout the room, mingling with the classical music still playing.
“I want to be disciplined, Mistress. Please discipline me,” the girl begged. She actually wanted this... whatever this was.
“Well, Mistress is not one to deprive punishment when it is needed.” Mistress Diana looked like she was in full control. I forgot that she was a big girl. Looking at her, it didn’t matter what size she was, and glancing at the rest of the audience, they didn’t care either. Everyone sipped their drinks, smiled, and watched the show.
Raising her hand in the air, she swooped down with the paddle, creating a thunder-like crashing smack to the ass of the sub. Her moans rang through the room as she struggled and shifted in the chair.
“Oh, Mistress. I am so sorry. I am so bad. Please... beat it out of me.”
I took a bigger gulp of my wine this time, almost swallowing half of the glass.
Everyone in the audience was cheering Mistress Diana on. Her hand swung again, and I caught a glimpse of the excess blubber under her arm as she slapped the ass of her naughty sub. No one seemed to care that she had underarm fat. Why did it matter to me? Why was I so afraid?
Mistress Diana seemed to look at everyone in the crowd, holding their eyes in hers, and she finally made it to me. She issued a deep stare from her brown eyes to mine that I did not dare break. She winked at me, then moved on to the next audience member.
Shit... what did that mean? I knew it, from that moment on, I wanted to do this. Maybe not in this setting, but I wanted to have that confidence; that moving ability of captivating a crowd.
Kyle bent his head down, whispering in my ear.
“You think you wanna do this? You’re a natural, and you don’t even know it.” He kissed my neck as he let the words marinate.
I thought of all the years of feeling inferior. Looking at Diana, she was a Mistress; a controller; a Dom that looked like she felt inferior to no one.
I drank the rest of the wine from my glass, guzzling it in one swallow.
Looking at Kyle, all I could do was nod. Looking in his eyes, I could feel he already knew what I was saying. Most of all, I knew what I had to do. Trevor had to go; the thought brought tears to my eyes, but I had to do it.
“You are worth more,” he whispered to me. “You are beautiful, and you deserve more.”
I believed him, and he was right. But I was scared.
Yesterday, I was drowning in a river of my dysfunction. Kyle arrived in my life with a raft of salvation. Now I just had to get on the boat.
Drunk In Love: Part 3
Nothing was the same to me anymore. Smells weren’t smells, and tastes were dull. Everything became different after that night. I wasn’t the same, and I didn’t want to be.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Trevor screamed at me that next morning. Making it home that night after seeing Mistress Diana work her magic was like a transformation for me.
I stayed up the entire night packing his clothes. When he awoke the next morning, his clothes sat by the door.
“It’s over, Trevor. This roller coaster is over.” I meant it, and I was pissed that it took me so long to realize that leaving Trevor was more about my life and health than it was about being “unfair” to him.
“You are going to regret this,” he said amongst many other things that morning. Insults flew off his tongue like a drunken sailor, but I didn’t budge. Then he resorted to pleading and crying. At that point, I started tossing his bags out of the front door.
Throwing a beer bottle at me was the end of my being nice to him. That was the last straw before I called the police and let them make him leave.
I should have been sad, but instead, I went to work with a smile on my face.
I felt happier than I’d felt in months, like some weight had been lifted off of me, and I no longer had to put my energy into someone that didn’t deserve it.
That next day, Kyle assisted me in changing my door locks. He didn’t stay long; he only helped me and gave me one instruction: study. He wanted me to study everything there was to know about the Dom life; the entire culture of BDSM.
“We will have a test on Saturday to see how far you have come.” Kyle said with a smile. His pun was fully intended.
Today was Saturday.
Kyle told me training would start today, and all week I could think of nothing else but this day. Through the entire week, I didn’t see him, and we didn’t talk much. He demanded that I research and go deeper into the world of bondage.
I found that this seemed like a school assignment rather than some life-changing experience. Looking over everything, I saw that this was serious.
Now I mentally went over all of my research as I walked the final block to Kyle’s house. All week I anticipated seeing him, and now I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. Maybe I wasn’t ready for this. Trevor had only been gone a week, and he was still calling. Last night, I had to turn my phone off to avoid his repeated calls.
He’d even sent me flowers. Maybe I wasn’t ready to move on.
But then I thought of Mistress Diana and how she probably would have slapped me right now for being so foolish. I was talking like a wounded idiot that needed an alcohol-dependent boyfriend to feel good about herself.
I sounded pathetic.
I kept walking, one foot in front of the other, towards my destination. As the street lights began to flicker on, I thought about how a week ago today was when my life began to unravel. Now a week later, I was free, and one step closer to becoming someone of power.
Reaching his house, there was a white envelope taped to the door with my name on it. The mystery was already starting.
“Go in, undress, and wait.” Direct and to the point.
I did as I was instructed. Stepping into his house, I quietly reverted to what I knew. In the list of research, I got a set of rules. As I undressed, I tried to remember what I was to do; it was easier reading those things than it was executing them.
In the living room, I made sure not to sit on his couch or touch the television. I wasn’t there as a guest, or for fun. Submissive training was none of those things.
Taking off every bit of clothing, I folded the items and placed them neatly on the floor. I didn’t want to assume that he wanted my clothing on his furniture.
“Rule Number One: If I don’t tell you to do it, then it doesn’t exist,” I whispered to myself as I looked forward, my hands at my sides, waiting for him to come in.
It was so quiet in the house that I could hear my own heart beating. I waited for what seemed like forever, but shortly, he emerged. A black leather mask was over his face. Only his eyes and lips were visible.
I was so taken by the mask that I almost forgot one of the rules.
You are to kneel when he enters a room. And you must ask, “how may I serve you, Sir?”
“Hello, Sir. How may I serve you?” I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I was on my knees, naked and making sure to make eye contact with him. That was what all of the instructions said.
“Good,” was his only reply. As he stared at me, I noticed that his clothes were entirely black, from the mask down to his shoes. It was like he was some kind of sexual executioner.
“I have many ways for you to serve me. Are you ready?”
This must have been a trick question. Th
ere was only one answer that I was allowed to give, according to the rules.
“Yes, Sir, I am ready,” I repeated without any sarcasm or sass.
According to the rules, the word “no” didn’t exist for me anymore.
*****
“Being a Dom is really about submission.”
I wasn’t sure about that, as I was tied up and felt pretty damn helpless compared to him. What was he submitting to? I was the one with my arms tied behind my back. He could easily say that because his feet were not bound, and his mouth was not gagged.
My pussy lips spread open as my legs were tied in opposite directions. I was laying on some kind of chair in a room of his that looked like something out of a medieval times movie.
I was turned on by this; I always wanted to be taken and tied up. It was a secret fantasy of mine that I thought would never come true. Something excited me about someone doing something to me that I had no control over. Without my hands to touch or guide him, it would be completely up to Kyle’s discretion, and right now, he was giving me a speech.
“I must have more care for you, and my thoughts must be greater about what we are going to do—especially since I am training you.” He held a whip in his hand; a South African whip, to be exact. Part of my research was to know the tools of the trade. All of this was no problem, but what frightened me was the list.
It was a list of the five things that scared me—the given things that he may or may not do to me, and the five things that I must accept if they are done.
I tried to steady my breathing, feeling constricted from the ropes, but my clit was tingling in anticipation.
“Now, let’s get started,” he said, slapping my legs with the South African bull whip, a long stick that looked to be made of leather. Pain radiated through my legs and up to my sex. Who knew pain could feel so good? My cunt throbbed. I was hoping he would feel my sex and give it some kind of relief.
Drunk In Love: The Complete Series: BBW BDSM Erotica Page 4
