by LK Shaw
I had reached the age where spending my weekend nights at a bar or club trying to pick up a man no longer appealed to me. The majority of my friends were already in relationships or married. I had a few single girlfriends, and a couple of them tried to set me up with one of their friends, but nothing ever worked out. So, I spent a lot of my time reading and living vicariously through the characters. I read a lot of dirty books. They were my guilty pleasure. I read books with sex scenes so hot, I practically felt the deep pounding of a man’s cock inside me. The mingled breaths, the gasps, the moans, the fingertips ghosting along my skin sending shockwaves through my body. While dating my ex, urges came over me. Urges to give up control and be dominated. In hindsight, I realized why I never expressed my wishes and fantasies to him.
I had an inkling, a feeling, a hunch, a whatever you want to call it, that I was submissive. The thought of being dominated and controlled had me throbbing deep inside. Other than the throbbing in my pussy I experienced when reading BDSM books, I didn’t really know what it meant to submit or to give up control. With not being in a relationship, and having not been in one for a long time, I wasn’t comfortable exploring or giving up that control to someone I didn’t fully know and trust. I realized now that I’d always kept a part of myself hidden from the few partners I’d been with. I wasn’t getting any younger either. I wanted to find that person I could trust with the needs I didn’t fully understand. I needed more from life than casual fucks that I only half ass enjoyed.
Which led me to my current situation. Me, sitting in my car at a local city park, store bought potato salad in hand. I’d never pictured myself as a voyeur until today. Finally, after a half an hour of watching, I worked up the nerve to open the car door and start placing one foot in front of the other. I made my way to the shelter house and sat my potato salad in the buffet line. I moved by the wall and remained there, like a wallflower, while I waited for someone to talk to me.
“Mmm, fresh meat,” a deep, gravelly voice spoke from my right. I turned in that direction. What I saw caused my breath to hitch, and I had to remind myself to keep breathing. Beside me stood the sexiest man I’d ever laid eyes on. He appeared slightly older than me and stood over six feet tall with broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. He wore blue jeans and a tight navy t-shirt that only accentuated his muscular chest and arms. The flecks of gray in his wavy, dark brown hair glinted in the sunlight. I became lost in the soul searching forest green eyes that roved over me from head to toe, pausing slightly at my lips. Unconsciously, I licked them. As I did, his nostrils flared and a flash of arousal lit up his eyes. My face heated as a blush spread across my cheeks, and my eyes automatically dropped away from his intense stare. His full, sensuous lips were quirked up into a half smile, and I fantasized about running my tongue up his square jaw lined with the perfect amount of scruff. “What a delectable blush.”
I almost turned around to make sure no one stood behind me. I mean, completely fuckable men like him had no interest in short, overweight women like me. Don’t get me wrong; I reluctantly accepted this body with all its bumps, rolls, stretch marks, and cellulite. I even tried to actually love and completely embrace it. With my track record, though, I had yet to meet a man this irresistible who showed this much interest, a sexual interest anyway, in me. It made me wonder what thoughts were running through his head as he admired me. I had my long, wavy, slightly reddish brown hair gathered in a top ponytail, a belly, and wide hips. From the look in his eyes though, he wanted to eat me alive. My body temperature spiked, and I shivered despite the warm weather.
“I’m Marcus, by the way. Whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?”
“Pe-Penny,” I stuttered, almost breathlessly as I sensed my blush intensifying. I really needed to get it together. I’d never blushed this much before in my life. I needed the confidence I showed the world, even as unreal as it happened to be. Fake it ’til you make it was my mantra.
Marcus leaned closer as he stepped slightly inside my personal space, his mint-scented breath rasping along my ear, “What brings you out to play with us today?” Subconsciously standing a little taller, I began gaining the confidence I typically displayed as a nurse working with chauvinistic surgeons. I told him about my interest in learning more about BDSM and the lifestyle. I wanted to find a neutral place to meet people and gain, if not friends, then at least acquaintances, and definitely knowledge.
“Knowledge about what?” Marcus asked, showing true interest. I wanted to know everything. I wanted to know the sensation of giving up control, how to please someone and be pleased in return. I wanted to be dominated, to discover why I couldn’t find someone who wanted that happily ever after with me that I constantly read about. Sadly, I didn’t know how to express any of this.
My shoulders shrugged as I settled on, “Whatever someone will teach me.”
“Sweetness,” he cooed, “I’d be happy to teach you anything you want to know. Let me introduce you to some friends of mine.” With a hand brushing across my lower back, startling me with the sparks of electricity that flowed through my extremities, Marcus led me over to a group of women. Marcus made introductions and left me to mingle. I noticed he never strayed far, and several times, our eyes met over someone’s shoulder. The smoldering glances he gave me sent heat burning throughout my body. My nipples pebbled like berries, and I felt myself getting wet the longer he kept staring at me. It wasn’t often that a man scrutinized me the way Marcus did. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time that even happened. I felt naked and exposed under his gaze, as though my barriers were being broke down. It was disconcerting to say the least.
I did very little talking among the women and spent most of the time listening. I met Delilah, her skin inked with a beautiful scalloped tattoo across her chest that travelled up her collarbones and around the back of her neck. She explained that both the tattoo and the gold choker collar she wore signified her Master’s ownership. I didn’t understand their Master/slave dynamic, but she seemed happy. I also met Priscilla, or Priss, a submissive who missed her Dom as he recovered in the hospital after a heart attack. Then came Jackie, a transgender woman who’d recently gone through transition surgery, and finally Bridget. Bridget and I were close in age, maybe five years difference. Bridget was submissive and in between Doms. She was someone whose brain I wanted to pick. I also imagined we might become great friends one day. No sooner were we about to delve deeper into our conversation, than a tingle of awareness rushed through me, and a sweltering heat burned against my back.
“Have you discovered any deep, dark secrets yet?” Marcus asked.
“Yours or mine?” I quipped as I slowly turned to face him.
Marcus stepped closer and closer forcing me backward until I was flush with the wall behind me. Chest to breast, his thigh worked its way between my legs to press against my pussy. His erection grew against my abdomen and with his finger tracing my lips, he rasped, “Why, yours, of course. I’m curious to know what depraved secrets you keep buried that you wish someone like me would discover. In fact, I think I would enjoy that immensely. Discovering your secrets, that is. I’d love to see you spread out before me, your hands bound above your head, writhing as I feast on your sweet, succulent cunt. You have this plump ass that I want to devour while I mark you as mine. You’d remember my handprint for days. I want to hear you scream my name as I fuck you harder than you’ve ever been fucked before. You’ll come over and over again.”
I whimpered and felt myself almost undulating against Marcus’ thigh as he rocked against my clit. I didn’t even care that there were people around. I wanted everything he described. The huskiness of his voice nearly brought me to my knees at his feet in supplication. Every other intimate encounter before today missed this. It terrified me.
Even still, my arousal increased at his words. I didn’t even know this man, but I had a feeling that if, given the chance, he’d discover all my secrets. Overwhelmed by his attention, I made my excuses and raced h
ome, knowing I’d replay his words.
Chapter Thirteen
Penny
Throughout the next week, I kept myself busy at work. By the time Friday rolled around, exhaustion permeated my bones. Excitement had me keyed up for the night. Bridget had told me about another vanilla event at a local billiards club this weekend, and I immediately put it on my calendar. I had done nothing except think of Marcus over the last week. I’d even pulled out my vibrator twice and got myself off picturing him doing all the dirty things he had described to me before I rushed off like a coward. My pussy became wet thinking about it.
Glad I only worked a half-day on Fridays, I arrived home early and gave myself time to shave, pluck, and groom before heading out for the night. I even went clothes shopping one night during the week, trying to find that perfect outfit that screamed sexy, not slutty. I ended up with a cute purple, one-shouldered dress that fell mid thigh, hugged my curves, and disguised my belly roll. I added silver peep toe pumps that were more comfortable than they appeared. I completed my look with light makeup and my hair down in soft curls that skimmed my breasts. I dabbed my favorite perfume between my breasts and behind my ears before I grabbed my purse and headed out the door.
I entered the pool hall and instantly started scanning faces, hoping to see the green eyes that had mesmerized me the previous week. It took me less than two minutes before I zeroed in on Marcus. He lounged against the opposite wall talking to three other men. He wore a white button-down dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up exposing his muscled forearms, which had me drooling, a pair of dark wash blue jeans that cupped his ass perfectly, and a pair of black lace up, wingtip Oxfords.
He must have sensed my eyes on him, because he slowly turned his head and stared right at me. Immediately, a throbbing began between my legs, and my nipples hardened as our gazes connected. I almost couldn’t bring myself to tear my eyes away. I spotted Bridget during my perusal of the room, and shaking my head slightly to break the connection with Marcus, I made my way over to her. I wasn’t intentionally playing hard to get. Sudden shyness overcame me, and I wanted to avoid embarrassing myself further by not gawking any longer than I already had.
“Hey Bridget, remember me? Penny, from the potluck last week.”
“Oh my God, of course I remember you. I’m so glad you decided to come,” Bridget squealed, grabbed my hands, and pulled me in for a hug. “I wondered if you’d have the guts to show up, especially after all the attention Master Marcus gave you last weekend. When he backed you up against the wall, the fiercest expression crossed his face, and I wanted so badly to know what he said to you. I thought you were going to come right then and there.”
I remembered the feel of him, the rough texture of his finger as he caressed my lip, the woodsy smell of his cologne, and a certain scent that represented Marcus. Even after only spending thirty minutes with the man, I think I’d recognize his specific scent anywhere. Permanently etched on my brain, it would never go away.
“What do you know about him?” I wondered.
“No way,” Bridget scolded. “I’m not spilling anything until you tell me what he said to you to make you rush off in such a hurry you barely even said goodbye.”
I thought back to last week’s conversation between Marcus and me. The arousal that rushed through me then threatened to overcome me again. I came back to the present, and, with a heavy sigh, responded to the question left hanging in the air. “He described in explicit detail all the things he wanted to do to me. I freaked and ran. End of story.”
“For the love of all things holy, why would you run from Master Marcus? Do you even realize the number of subs who would kill to be in your place, me included? If that man even glanced at me sideways, I’d be bent over the nearest spanking bench waiting for him to punish me. I’ve watched him scene with some of the other subs at the club, and what I wouldn’t give to be the object of his desire,” Bridget practically screamed at me.
“He’s too intense. I don’t think we’d suit at all. Besides, I’m not looking to start a relationship with a Dom yet. I mean, I haven’t even figured out what it is I am or what I want. I’m more of an observer. A wallflower, if you will. I’m not one to close my eyes, jump into the deep end, and reap the consequences of what I sowed later. I dwell and analyze shit and over think everything,” I replied. I tried to get her to understand that I needed more time to learn about submission and how I fit into this new world that had now opened up for me to explore.
“Well don’t look now, but I think Master Marcus is about to help you get your feet, and maybe other more important things, wet,” Bridget warned. I didn’t need the warning Bridget gave me. I’d sensed his eyes on me from almost the moment I walked in the door. The minute he stepped within ten feet of me, the air essentially froze, as though everyone else disappeared, leaving no one except the two of us.
“Hello, Sweetness.”
I kept my expression as blank as possible before I turned to face the man who’d been haunting my dreams all week. Bridget, that traitor, scurried away, leaving me with Marcus.
“Hi,” came my lame response. Immediately, the sexual attraction between us ratcheted up a few degrees, causing my heart to race. My eyes didn’t leave his. I don’t know why I fought the attraction. Unbelievably, after only one meeting I knew, inevitably, I’d break. Marcus made me feel things with only a glance. Things I’d only dreamed about.
“After your disappearing act last week I wondered if I’d ever see you again,” Marcus questioned as he casually leaned up against the bar next to me. The muscles in his forearm flexed, as if resisting the urge to reach out and touch me. “I’d have been extremely disappointed if I’d missed you tonight. Did you masturbate while thinking of me this week?”
“Yes,” I said, unable to lie to him. I licked my dry lips, unintentionally bringing his attention to my mouth before he made eye contact again. “That doesn’t mean I’m ready to make it a reality. I just met you and this, whatever it is, is moving too fast. You’re intense, and you come on too strong. You don’t give me any time to think. To be honest, you make me a little nervous. I’m not ready for you or whatever it is you’re offering. I am only now beginning to explore submission and trying to find out what and who I am.” Throughout my entire speech, I kept wondering what thoughts were running through his mind. His face remained impassive and unreadable. He was an enigma, a puzzle I didn’t think I was ready to solve.
“I think that’s the most I’ve heard you say since we met. Here’s the deal, and I want you to listen very closely to what I’m about to say. I’m a Dominant, and I am intense and will come on strong, because I know that is what you need even if you don’t. I’ve lived in the lifestyle long enough to know that you are submissive to the bone. I make you nervous because I make you feel things you haven’t felt before. The more time you have to think, the less time you spend feeling, which is what you should be doing. Feeling the wet heat of my mouth suckling your bountiful tits. Feeling the pounding of my cock deep in that beautiful pussy of yours. Feeling the heat build from your core and spread throughout your body until it bursts in the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever had. This is what you want and need, even if you don’t know how to ask for it. That’s my job as a Dom. To give you everything you didn’t even know you needed.”
Almost before he had even finished speaking, he closed the distance between us, took hold of my head with both hands on either side of my face and lowered his lips to mine. His tongue demanded entrance, and on a gasp, I opened my mouth to his assault. Flavors burst on my tongue, including the whiskey he must have been drinking. His scent and now his taste were etched on my brain. He tasted like no other man I’d kissed before. As quickly as the kiss began, it ended.
“I want you and you want me. I will take things only as slow as I think you need them to go. The most important part of any D/s relationship is communication, no matter if it’s a relationship that lasts for one scene or one that lasts beyond that. Communication is
key. That is what contracts, agreements, and safe words are for. You’ll need a safe word; something you won’t forget in the heat of the moment. I won’t always know what you are feeling. It’s up to you to tell me. The minute you say your safe word, whatever is happening stops. It may only stop until we’ve discussed what’s happening and make adjustments, or it may stop the scene entirely if we can’t come to a safe resolution that we both agree upon. You came here looking to learn the secrets of submission. I plan to show you all of them.”
Chapter Fourteen
Penny
After Marcus’ declaration and our brief, heated kiss, he left the pool hall while I stayed to talk to Bridget and some of the other subs. Mostly so I didn’t go home to an empty house and dwell on or overthink everything he had said. Before I left, Bridget pulled me aside and asked for my phone. Without thought, I handed it to her. After several keystrokes she handed it back to me telling me that she had put her phone number in my contact list in addition to Marcus’ “per his command”.
The next day, I sat on my couch reading, barely concentrating, while casting occasional glances at my phone debating whether or not I should call him. I had never been that girl. The bold one who called a guy she liked. The one who took the initiative and went after what she wanted. I don’t know how, but in some way the two interactions with Marcus were meaningful. The longer I sat there, the more the urge increased to take life by the figurative balls. I needed to stop being the wallflower, the girl on the sidelines watching every one else find their dance partner. The time came to be that bold woman who went after what she wanted, even if she didn’t know entirely what that entailed beyond the man on the other end of the line. I picked up my phone, searched my contacts, and before I changed my mind, pressed call.
