Shameless

by Mary Teen

  Shameless

  My First BSDM Experience: Memoirs of a Teen

  Mary Teen

  Copyright © 2020

  By Mary Teen

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of very brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Shameless: My First BSDM Experience

  After having sex with multiple men in one night, I felt no shame, though knew instinctively that I needed to keep this all to myself. I could easily slip into one venue or another, having sex with strangers, and return to my normal life as if nothing had occurred. It was a deliciously hot secret I could keep to myself and relish the idea of exploring new and exciting lovers. The next couple of weeks following my night at the club was ordinary, and it felt like I needed another fix soon. I surveyed a few places online, only to find nothing worthwhile. Men were either too bashful to handle sexual adventure or sent me pictures that were unrealistic and fake. I began to lose hope, and secretly wanted something more. After a while, I decided to wait until someone different showed up. One morning, I heard a knock at the door. It was an older gentleman, around forty years old, wearing faded jeans and a button-down shirt. His hair grayed at the temples, and he seemed conservative and plain, yet attractive as well. He wore glasses, and his eyes smiled when he did, showing a faint extension of crow’s feet.

  “Hi, I’m your new neighbor, Jim,” he offered his hand, shaking it with a sense of authority.

  “Nice to meet you. My name is Mary.”

  “Pleased to meet you. My wife and I just moved a few doors down, and I’m making my rounds today, introducing myself. I hope you don’t find this to be strange or creepy.”

  “No, not at all.” I thought he was kind, maybe boring, but good as a neighbor. We talked briefly, getting acquainted with each other. I mentioned my parents’ living with me, though they were away for the week visiting my aunt. During their visit, my mother had fallen ill, and they decided to stay a bit longer until she recovered well enough for the drive home.

  Jim was an accountant, and his wife was a nurse. He was eager to make friends, as he was new to town and offered to invite my parents and me for dinner. I didn't readily accept invites to dinner or outings from strangers, though Jim seemed friendly and harmless. Besides, he had a wife, and they were professional people who recently moved into our neighborhood. Accepting the dinner invitation was the least I could do to be friendly and welcoming.

  “I’m not sure when my parents will be back. They are out of town for the week.”

  “How about just you then?” I was surprised by his eagerness and saw the pleading in his eyes. What would his wife be like? Why was he so eager to invite me alone? My mind raced with wild ideas, which I quickly stopped. These were decent, upstanding people, likely in their early forties, without any agenda or plans to deviate from their ordinary appearance.

  “I would like that, thank you. I look forward to meeting your wife too.”

  “Sounds wonderful. Why don’t you join us this evening at 7:00 pm?” I nodded, accepting his invitation. For the next couple of hours, I tried to find something suitable to wear. Secretly, I wanted to find out what Jim was like, sexually, though I pushed the thought out of my mind. He’s married, after all, and that’s a line I shouldn’t cross. After all, dad was always faithful to mom, wasn’t he? He was a good provider, and I could never imagine him hurting her like that. I was single and free to have fun, but I was beginning to view marriage differently, even for me. Was it really the best life, and would I ever find the perfect husband? Wouldn’t it just be fun to play around for a while, until I do find Mr. Perfect?

  I decided to wear a plain, silk blouse and a skirt just above the knee. Classy, but sexy, I thought, reviewing my image in a full-size mirror. I wore my hair in a messy bun and just a hint of ruby-red lipstick with eyeliner and mascara. Simple, uncomplicated, like neighbor Jim and his wife. I left the house five minutes to seven, not wanting to arrive too early or late, and feeling oddly nervous to dine with two regular people that look like 90 % of the folk you pass on the street. I knocked on the door and was greeted eagerly by Jim, who grinned widely as if he was surprised that I had actually shown up. Did he think I would bail?

  “Mary! How good of you to come. Please come in, and feel free to take off your shoes.” His house was spotless. I could smell the delicious aroma of what appeared to be lasagna. The table was set in the center of a generous dining room, with placemats at each setting, four in total. I was cautious, as I usually am when entering a new person’s home. It occurred to me that I didn’t recall any moving trucks around the area recently, but I dismissed the thought and wandered into the kitchen, where Jim placed a medium-sized lasagna on a serving platter, ready for the table. I was starving and looking forward to a satisfying meal. I assumed his wife was getting ready before presenting herself for introductions. As Jim carried the tray of food to the dining room table, he hesitated for a moment, then spoke.

  “I must apologize on behalf of my wife. She was called into work tonight, and I have all this food...but she wanted me to carry on with this evening. It wouldn’t be fair to cancel, wouldn’t it?”

  “I appreciate your hospitality,” I responded. He offered a chair. My mind raced a little because something seemed a little different or “off,” but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Jim was a kind, gentleman, with a lean, well-toned physique, and didn’t appear to smoke or drink. He was also older, at least forty years old, showing a bit of grey hair at the sides. The house was well preserved and housed a number of antiques, including a grandfather clock and some interesting historical pictures. When I asked him about the pictures, he didn’t have much to say, except “I don’t really know, they were here when we bought the house.”

  As Jim prepared the meal, I took the opportunity to survey the living room and dining area. There was a lot of vintage art, furniture, and lighting fixtures. I noticed little modern technology, which made me feel as though I had stepped into a time machine back into the 1950s. I was curious about Jim's wife. What did she look like? Was she conservative and ordinary like Jim? Did he like women of a more conservative and virgin-like demeanor, or did he want someone more taboo and risky? I wiped these thoughts out of my mind upon seeing Jim enter the dining room with the meal.

  The lasagna was delicious, and I wanted seconds but thought it too rude to ask. Jim put on a pot of coffee and offered a light custard for dessert. Well, this was turning out to be a pleasantly boring evening, I thought. I could be out getting some action and having some fun. There is likely a group of people to party with, where I can release my sexual tension. Just as I reflected on the stagnancy of the evening, I caught Jim glaring at me with a slight smile. He sat upright and folded his hands in front of him on the table.

  “You know…,” he began. “I’ll bet you’re bored here. This isn’t fun, right? A teenager dining with an older man like me in a house full of antiques. I’ll bet you wished you were outside with your friends, at the movies or something, right?” Oh, how right he was, only I wanted to do much naughtier things. It nearly frightened me, how well he guesses my exact thoughts. After all, he must've been a horny teenager at one time, chasing girls like any other guy.

  “Well, to be honest, I’m used to going out more often, but I didn’t want to be rude.” It was the best I could offer in response, without hiding my boredom. I did enjoy the lasagna and the custard, both of which were well made and delicious.

  �
��I see.” He stood up then, pacing slightly at one end of the table. “I’ll bet you’d like to do something fun, though, wouldn’t you?” I nodded slowly, not certain what he meant. I wasn't expecting anything much, as he had no television or visible signs of the internet. I doubted he had any wi-fi, and hoped he wasn't too disappointed in my response. Jim paced towards a cabinet where a collection of plates and small sculptures were displayed. On one level, there were several wooden boxes, neatly stacked on top of one another. He opened a wooden cupboard and brought out a box. It looked like a board game. Oh, great, he thinks this is fun? I rolled my eyes – and he caught me. His smile disappeared. He knew then that I was nothing but a bratty girl without any signs of respect. I should have known better, I thought.

  “Why, you don’t seem too thrilled about this? Do you know what this is?” I looked at the box, and from a distance, I didn’t see much, so I shrugged.”

  “A board game?” I offered, as my initial guess. Sometimes the café downtown would host a board game night, which some people enjoyed a lot.

  “Why, yes, it is in the shape of a board game, but it’s also more than that.” I looked at the box again, as he placed it on the table and slid it towards me. There was a set of handcuffs and other interesting gadgets inside. I was beginning to understand, but not fully. Was this some type of charade?

  “Would you like to learn how to play a game?” My eyes widened, and that seemed to please him. At that moment, I shifted my body, feeling I needed to prepare for this, somehow. Maybe, just possibly, Jim was more adventurous than I imagined.

  “Y-yes, I think I would like to try,” I answered, slightly nervous.

  “Ok, then, but there are rules.”

  “Rules?”

  “Yes, all games have rules, but I’m not going to use all the rules in this box, as I have a set of my own that we can use, understood?”

  “Um…ok.” I was nervous then because he was observing me like a specimen, not giving away any hint of what he had in mind. As open as I was to play, I wanted to know more about what to expect.

  “What’s that?” He leaned over me now, smiling in a maniacal way. What would his wife think of this? Would she be accepted, like one of those "open couples"? I pushed the thought from my mind. I wanted to learn more about these “rules.”

  “First of all, you are to address me as ‘sir,’ is that understood?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Goooood.” He was a bit eerie now, as his enthusiasm increased, and he opened the box. “Take off your blouse.” I flinched, not sure why he was so eager to start like this. I began unbuttoning my blouse quickly, starting at the top. My hands fumbled a little. He made me nervous.

  “Stop and slow down, one by one.” He lifted my chin with his hand, to face me directly.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good girl. Take off your blouse and stand in front of me.” Inside the box were all kinds of toys. Handcuffs were the main attraction, but it seemed like there were many more, smaller, intricate kinky things to play with as well. I stood before him, my breasts exposed and arms by my side. In his hands, he had what appeared to be a chain with two clasps attached, one at each end.

  “Now, take a deep breath in.” I did as I was told, holding my breath until he instructed me to release, and as I did, he fixed one clasp in each nipple. I screamed from the pinch, which felt like a hot poker. I peered down to see both nipples, squeezed in between clamps. He placed a finger on my mouth to keep me quiet, so I breathed heavy instead. I wanted to bite down on his fingers, but he held one hand firmly over my mouth, and the other around the back of my head, holding me completely still.

  “Take off your skirt, and your panties, and come with me.” I did as I was told, and was led into a room upstairs, that appeared to be more of a dungeon than a bedroom. This place appeared more medieval than the 1950s. There was a bed to one side, and in the center of the room, a rack, complete with straps and chains. I shivered, and now understood what this was all about! Jim led me to another device that looked like a gynecological table, where my legs would be spread and fastened apart, allowing him to inspect my insides in such a vulnerable position.

  “You are my little toy, slave, submissive,” he announced, strapping me in. I was shaking from anticipation and slightly concerned about what was about to happen. If I was fastened down to this table, there would be nowhere to move nor escape from my fate. What if he was a serial killer or someone violent and dangerous? I craved a bit of danger, but this was a whole new level. He sat, fully clothed, in front of my mound, poking me with his fingers and peering inside. This wasn’t the typical adventure I expected to experience, but it definitely aroused me in a strange way. Lying helpless, naked, spread eagle on this apparatus, Jim fingered me, watching me squirm, as I could see his eyes peering over my nude pelvis. Then, he spread my ass wide, slipping in some lube, then fingered both holes at once, observing me intently. After a few minutes, he got up and moved towards a dark grey cabinet, fumbling for another toy, then produced a whip. I winced at the sight of it, my toes curled, and my hands balled into fists.

  “Now, now, you’re going to behave, and learn a lesson, ok?” My body tensed, sensing this new experience would be different than any other I had.

  “Yes, sir.” He returned to the end of the table, lifting my rear and adding a wedge beneath, allowing for full access to both of my butt cheeks. He paced, slowly, holding the whip, cracking it in the air, and watching me flinch in fear, anticipation. His eyes fixed on me then, in that same maniacal way, and yet his voice remained calm, authoritative, and firm.

  “Good girls stay home and don’t go to strangers’ houses by themselves.” I winced. Another crack of the whip. “Bad girls go out at night and look for naughty things to do, isn’t that right?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, sir!” I clenched my butt cheeks together, but it was no match for the crack of the leather slapping across both cheeks. I squealed from the sting.

  “Bad girls are sluts and deserve to be punished.”

  “Yes, sir,” Whack! Again, I flinched, then squeaked. He made me feel helpless and strangely aroused. My pussy juices trickled down my ass crack, stinging where the whip left its marks. Whack!

  I flinched again, followed by a near shriek. Jim decided that I was going to remain quiet, and produced a ball-gag, which he promptly placed in my mouth, using a strap to keep it in place. My screams and squeaks would be muffled now, and useless for anyone to hear. He continued to whip me several times, then caressed my sore butt cheeks with his hands. They were smooth, yet strong. I quivered in anticipation. He loosened the straps and led me down from this medieval table, taking me into yet another room, where there were more toys and tools for fun. A pile of rope was in the center of the room, and a chair, like one used by a trapeze artist, hung from the ceiling. Using a stool, Jim motioned for me to step up and sit on the swing, which had a thick, yet uncomfortable wooden seat. I obediently sat on it, as Jim went to work with the rope, skillfully tying and knotting each of my arms to each side of the swing's chains, then he fastened my thighs to the seat, then lifting one leg at a time, he bound each on separate sides, attached to my bound arms, and exposing my body openly, as I swayed back and forth on the swing. He watched me then, gagged and bound, and exhausted from the whip, suspended on a swing and ready for penetration.

  Jim quietly unzipped his pants, grabbing hold of his cock, and began tugging it. His eyes remained fixed on me, like an object in his possession. He pulled and tugged until his erection grew, and his entire body began to shake until he was ready to ejaculate. He approached me then, spraying me with all of his juice and rubbing it into my skin like he was tenderizing me like meat. The firm, yet skillful touch of his hands was surprisingly welcome, but I was feeling full and ready to burst. I had nowhere to pee and knew it would be a matter of time before I went, gagged and bound or not.
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  I couldn't speak, so I wiggled a little, trying uselessly to communicate with my strange new neighbor. My body was raw and bladder full. Jim seemed to understand but remained calm and in no hurry to remove me from off of the swing. He took off his clothes to reveal a physically toned and slightly hairy body. Then, unexpectedly, he got down on all fours and crawled under my suspended body.

  “Now, it's your turn to humiliate me,” he announced, and then, as he laid down, I released a golden trickle, spraying him below. He moaned with pleasure, dipping his face in my golden nectar, and relishing the flow. Then, I needed to poo, but I really wanted to be released. The idea of pooping in front of a stranger made me uneasy, despite all the other things I had experienced so far. I wasn't comfortable getting stinky and gross, and then he ordered me to.

  “I want you to release it. I know there's more.” I clenched my butt cheeks together, trying to keep from going, but my attempts were useless. Still naked, Jim stood up, drenched in pee, placing his hands on my ass, spreading it wide. He stared at me now, and my exposed butthole suddenly felt cold and a slight wind. Still, I tried to resist, moaning inside the ball-gag as I did.

  Then, it happened, as he stood, watching it all. I shook from the shock of it all, and shortly thereafter, he untied me, removed the gag, and invited me to take a shower with him. It felt unusual, and strangely non-sexual in the shower, as we both cleaned our bodies. Returning to the dining room, I picked my clothes to put them back on. They looked discarded. Standing in front of me again, fully clothed, Jim offered me his hand, shaking it as though we had just conducted business. He thanked me for visiting and wished me a good night.

  The next day, I saw his wife. She was a tall, beautiful blond woman with long legs and flawless skin. Jim was eager to introduce his wife to me, which I found odd. I'll never look at them without thinking about my first BDSM encounter.