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Review This Story || Author: Nic Romanschak

Adam's First Time

Part 1

Stories




Adam's First Time








Adam's First Time






About 3 months ago, I began, in earnest, my exploration of the BDSM lifestyle. I


had read stories, listened in on discussions, and read a myriad of information


about it. I began posting stories in the hopes that I might attract the


attention of, not so much a Mistress, but someone I could discuss in depth, the


feelings I had been having. I am a 25 year old male. Supposedly mentally


well-balanced with little or no idea of the practical side of BDSM life. I was


contacted on a local system by my current Dom who has shown me more than I ever


expected. Thank you, MA'AM, for your acceptance and exquisite control.




***This story is purely fiction. I wrote this LONG before I ever had any RL


experiences. This is only the child of a fertile imagination.***






We'd spoken for weeks. I didn't understand what I was feeling, I just knew that


the hair on my neck stood up when I heard about it. She had been wonderful, not


entirely what I expected. She was concerned, patient, and comforting.




After all the discussion she finally agreed to meet. I arrived promptly at 9.


She stresses that promptness was not an option. Actually I arrived about 20


minutes early, but I sat in the car until 2 minutes till 9 and then went to the


door. She asked me not to wear anything special, just something to be


comfortable in. I chose my customary nice T-shirt, my best pair of faded jeans,


and my favorite Docksiders.




Her front porch was dimly, although adequately lit, and in the foyer just beyond


the stained glass of the door, I could see candles. Suddenly I felt quite


underdressed and completely ill prepared. My stomach churned and I was face to


face with my doubts of whether or not I was really ready for all of this.




I knocked on the door as close to the stroke of nine as I could figure, and it


took only moments for me to get a taste of what the rest of the evening was


going to be like. I stood there at the door for an eternity. It was actually


only five minutes, but I didn't dare knock again. I knew she was expecting me,


and I knew she was ready. She was making me stand outside, just beginning to


exercise that subtle control I knew she'd had for a long time now.




When she did come to the door, I was dumbfounded. I had gotten a rather vivid


mental image of what my 'mistress' was going to look like. She was about 5'9",


long, flowing, dark brown hair, and a figure like a cross between a career


swimmer and a career gymnast. Her breasts were modest, but ample. Her figure was


strong and toned, but still soft. Every step she took would be silent, perfect.




When the door did open, there stood a normally quite average woman, not a


perfect body, but wonderfully shaped. She didn't have the animal qualities I had


imagined, but the confidence and sensuality she carried could have swept me off


the porch like flood waters. I might as well have been standing in front of a


Greek goddess.




I stood there with a 'deer in the headlights' look on my face. I guess I must


have physically staggered, because she allowed herself a subtle smile. She was


wearing high heels, dark stockings, and a full length crimson dress held


precariously on soft shoulders by impossibly thin spaghetti straps.




She said, "Come in Adam, it's nice to finally meet you." I didn't speak. I


couldn't. She walked away from me, completely unconcerned. I assumed I was to


follow. I smiled. Whether or not I was ready for this, I was in it.




She had told me, there wouldn't be any sex involved, although at some point I


might be told (or did she say 'allowed' to come), but if I did so without


permission, I was going home and not coming back.




As we walked, I noticed that the only light in the house was by candles, and the


air was sweet with patchouli incense. I didn't know if she prepared like this


for the other people that came to her, if she did I was impressed, if she didn't


I was beyond flattered. I could only assume she did this for all of her


submissives, but I wasn't going to ask.




We walked into a large room with all the accouterments I had envisioned in a


'playroom'. There were the usual shackles, various hooks, bolts and the like,


and a very nice set of traditional looking stocks. What struck me the most was a


queen size four-poster bed, sans headboard in a corner of the room. The thing I


found unique was the abundance of holes running the length of all four poles (I


assumed for eye-bolts).




She turned around and looked at me. My felt my chest tighten, and I just stood


there looking stupid.




She walked close to me and said, "I want you to take off my dress. You can use


any means you want."




She walked behind me. I felt her take my hand, and I heard the ratcheting sound


I'd heard only once before when I got hauled in for those unpaid speeding


tickets. She took my other hand, same noise.




She walked back around me, "Begin," she said. I stood for a moment, pondering my


situation. I was nervous about taking the obvious tact, my teeth, fearing that


she would be disappointed in a pat response. Since I didn't have any other


answers, I started as best as I could.




I walked around her and began to grab one of the straps in my teeth to slide it


off her shoulder. I must have let the tip of my teeth nicked her skin, because I


was rewarded with a resounding slap across my astonished face. I hadn't even


seen her move.




"You BIT me!" her voice hardly raised, but the inflection unmistakable, "All the


time I've invested, and you're sloppy, maybe I'll just call this whole thing


off."




"O god, no," was all I could reply.




"I don't give second chances, don't expect another. You had better do better


this time," she told me.




I began again, in earnest, panicked that my next mistake would be my last. This


time I took the straps between my lips, making sure they weren't too wet, or too


dry. This was working really well, but I was getting high from the smell of her


skin, the perfume she had on, and feeling her skin under my lips. My head was


swimming, as I dragged the strap over her shoulder, I risked a small kiss on her


arm. Her eyes darted toward me with a 'don't think you can get away with that


again' look, but at least she didn't whack me. Maybe I was high, maybe I was


just stretching to see how far I could get. This wasn't domination, I'd played


games like this in college, with women similar to this.




Finding a method that seemed to work I continued in my task, getting absolutely


no help from this woman. The most difficult part was dragging the dress down, it


was a snug fit, magnifying every curve on her. I knelt in front of her and


grabbed the dress, just between her legs, I caught her scent, clean and sweet,


it's a smell I've always loved. I thought the veins in my neck were going to


explode, I almost buried my face in that lovely crotch, but I knew if I did, I'd


be lucky to get out alive, and I'd never hear from her again. The dress finally


hit the floor, and I looked up. Not the black lace teddy I was expecting, but


plain pink silk panties and bra, and not a spot of moisture on them. I have to


admit I was disappointed, I tried to show a little flair in my first task,


evidently with no results. I knew it wasn't because she was cold, but in


complete control of herself also.




I was exhausted, My muscles were so tight you could bounce quarters off my


stomach. I had broken into a light sweat, and had a little trouble getting up


off my knees.




"You did well once you got started, maybe I won't send you home yet," she


laughed.




I really didn't have much to say, I figured less is more, and I wasn't much good


at small talk anyway. It seemed to be the right thing. She took off the


handcuffs and told me to take off my shirt. Once my shirt was off, she handed me


a set of leather cuffs that looked like they had been swiped from an institution


for the criminally beefed-up. They weren't large is size, but I knew from


looking, that once I was in them I wasn't getting out unless I was released.


Once my wrists were in the cuffs, she led me across the room to a corner under a


cable, which was hung through a bolt in the ceiling. I was told to walk up a


series of small blocks until I could hang the chain between the cuffs on the


hook. Once secure, I walked back down the small blocks, slowly stretching my


arms overhead. By the time I got back to the real floor, the tips of my toes


were the only things that touched ground. There I was, shirtless, stretched out


like an animal ready to be cleaned.




She went to a table and picked up a leather paddle. The fear spread over my


face, but I knew that was bound to happen.




The paddle landing on my ass reminded me of those little fireworks I used to set


off as a kid, not the sting, but the sound, and it hurt.




"That's not all there is, dear, I'm going to strip off those cute jeans and see


if that little butt is quite prepared to cash the check your mouth was making on


it's trip down my body. I saw the look in your eye. You knew better but you kept


up those little kisses anyway, we can't have you taking liberties now can we?"




She waited for a moment and the paddle struck again.




"CAN WE?" she shouted.




"No... no," I said, meekly.




"SMACK" the paddle made itself known again, and I was damn glad I was still in


my jeans, I only worried that this rosy glow I could feel was just a sampling of


what my indiscretions was going to get me.




"You will always answer with, 'Ma'am,' 'Mistress,' 'or, 'Lady', DO YOU


UNDERSTAND?"




"YES... yes, Lady, I understand."




With that, and not another word, she undid my belt, and my zipper, and my pants


fell to my ankles.




"Slip out of your shoes and kick those pants away," she said.




"Now, I'm going to give you a little reminder about your place here. You knew


you shouldn't have been planting those cute little kisses on me, but you did it


anyway, if we're going to get along, you must learn."




I knew this was a bad thing.




Now my situation had gone from bad to worse (or was it better, at this point?).


Now I was hanging from a cable by professional shackles in nothing but my black


bikini underwear. The beating then began full swing. I lost count after 12


swats. I assume my brain was trying to shut down from the pain. She told me I


could stop this at anytime, but she wasn't really going to test my endurance the


first time, and if I did safeword, I might get a peck on the cheek on the way


out. So I held my breath and fell into the trust I had entitled her with.




My face was clenched and pouring with sweat, although the room itself was a


comfortable temperature. I realized she had stopped, I opened my eyes, and she


was standing directly in front of me. I could feel her breath, I could feel the


warmth of her sex against my stiff prick. Her hips moved gently, then she backed


away.




"Well, if you feel properly punished, we can begin."




My ass was on fire. I'd never hurt like that in my life. I wondered how I was


going to drive home, and this had just gotten started? I was trussed, naked and


a thermonuclear tan on my rump, yet my only fear was that I wouldn't please her,


and I'd be gone.




She moved beside me, I felt her push something warm and soft against my ear. It


surprised me at first, but I realized it was those wax earplugs swimmers use, it


covers the ear canal without going in it, but seals out everything including


sound.




Before the other plug went in she said, "all you have to do is stay as still as


you can, if I need you moved, just move where you're guided. Don't answer me, I


know you understand."




I knew sound deprivation wasn't all she was going to do, and then, as if on cue,


came the blindfold. It was leather and fit snugly across the whole top of my


face, across the bridge of my nose. My nose and mouth were free, as well as the


top of my head, but my eyes and ears were completely covered.




I could feel my heart pound, and I could hear the blood rushing through my


veins, but that was all. My whole body had become an antenna. I felt something


really cold trickle down my back. I jerked and it pulled me off balance, I began


to twist around, catching myself after a nearly ninety degree turn.




The paddle came down on my raw bare ass with angry intensity, I steeled myself


for another blow but it wasn't coming.




The cold dribble began again, It was ice, no doubt, and she began rubbing little


circles with it on my partially covered ass cheeks, my legs and back twitching


unconsciously. She removed it and then ran what I could only assume from the


length was a dildo made of ice up the inside of my thigh. Again I flinched, and


again the paddle sang its song.




Well, I was determined I wasn't going to get swatted again for failing to follow


instructions, so I concentrated on keeping my toes planted.




Again I waited, panting in silence, waiting for the next swat, the next shiver,


I cock was rock hard and spilling out the side of my briefs. I felt her hands


pulling my legs close together, and she took off my bikinis. My shaft sprang


out, slapping me on the stomach.




"SHIT!" I thought, "she said no sex! I didn't think I'd be naked."




I began to hyperventilate. She put her hands on my chest gently stroking me.




I heard her ask me through the plugs, she must have been shouting, if I wanted


to stop. My jaws were locked together and I shook my head 'no'. She kissed my


chest and I started to relax. At this point, I'd had a hard on longer than I


thought was humanly possible, and I thought I felt precum on the bottom of my


shaft. She reached down and took my aching cock in her hands and I started to


groan. I knew I was going to come as she stroked it, her hand still cold and


moist from the ice. I was completely lost. If I safeworded I was gone. If I came


I was gone, and the moment of truth was crashing down. I shouted the safeword


she had given me, and it was if time had stopped. Her hand was gone, there was


no contact, my body was shrieking with no relief, I was physically and mentally


exhausted, and I cried. I hung, my chest heaved to catch my breath and I cried.


I know I hung there for a long time, although exactly how long I didn't know. My


throat ached, my eyes burned behind the blindfold. I knew it was over and I


hadn't been able to handle it.




I felt the small steps being pushed underneath my feet. I managed to get myself


down from the hook and nearly collapsed. I felt her weight under me, wrapped in


a terrycloth robe. She helped me over to the bed and laid me down on my face. I


sat up just a little and began to speak, but her finger covered my lips, and she


motioned me to lie still. She began to rub some salve or cream into my ass and


the backs of my legs where I had been so expertly stained red from the inside.


It cooled the burning and the stinging, leaving a warm dull throb. She stroked


my hair and my back, I started to cry gently again. She rolled me over, a little


trail of precum down my leg and took off the cuffs. She sat me up and turned me


away from her so she could undo the straps the to mask. I didn't turn around.


She turned my head and took the plugs out. I could hear the air conditioning, I


could hear the clock down the hall ticking.




I couldn't look at her, I didn't want to hear what she had to say. All the weeks


we had talked, I had gotten used to her voice. It wasn't love, but she was a


kind mentor, and now I'd be without that friend. What a drag, but I guess life


will go on.




She took my chin and turned me around to face her, Surprisingly she was smiling.


That smile could melt polar ice. I was very confused.




"Are you all right? I got worried for a bit."




"I don't get it," I stammered, "I said the safeword, you said that would be the


end of it."




"I drove you to your safeword on purpose," her voice was almost a giggle, "if


you had come on my clean carpet it would have been over. Everyone has a limit,


you admitted you had reached yours, that will save you a lot of grief someday.


Shower's through there, towels on the rack, your clothes are on the table. I'm


tired. I'm going to go make us some coffee..."




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Review This Story || Author: Nic Romanschak
Back to Content & Review of this story Display the whole story in new window (text only) Previous Story Back to List of Newest Stories Next Story Back to BDSM Library Home