Entrepreneurial reporter dares to enter the rhelm of bondage and submission:

Before you begin, I want to say Thank You for reading my story today. I'm actually a mid-30's male, but I may take a first-person position as "someone else" as the lead character of my stories. I've written several over the years, but only for personal enjoyment...I've never published any of my work, but I'm hoping to get some feedback as to what people think of my story writing! I hope you enjoy.

Also, as the old disclaimer goes, my stories are purely fictional and are not meant to represent actual persons or events.

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My name is Lori. I’m 26 and I have been a journalist for 4 years. I have covered many stories ranging a large canvas of the human experience and I have prided myself on my objectivity and explorative appetite for witnessing the human experience. My ventures have brought me from war zones to the plight of the inner cities, but nothing quite measured up with what I was about to experience.

While some of my investigative journalism has touched on some of the various walks of the human sexual experiences, ranging from prostitution to swingers, thus far, it has been purely as the inquisitive observer. This was the first time I was to; if you excuse the pun, embed myself into the darker world of submission and bondage.

It began when I was contacted by a reader…a fan, if you will, who offered me a challenge. He told me in very general terms that he specialized in the fields of bondage, submission, humiliation, and faux forced capitulation. At first, I was apprehensive. I worried that I could have a dangerous stalker on my hands, but the inquiring aspect of my persona was getting the best of me.

Though against my better judgment, I contacted him and offered to meet over coffee to discuss a possible interview and potential terms for an investigation into his “hobby”. It was when I received his reply that I feared I might be getting in over my head.

Lori:

Thank you for your response. While I’m intrigued that you have shown interest in my lifestyle, I cannot accept an offer for a business meeting to discuss an arrangement for interview, as any prearranged meeting would forfeit any real semblance of what my way of life entails. If you sincerely desire to explore my world, you will have to meet on my terms without precondition. To do so otherwise would prejudice any opinions or conclusions you may come to.


Sincerely,

Master Dominic

The correspondence gave me a chill. It felt like a clinical curtain surrounding a dark secret. At the same time, I couldn’t intellectually argue with his point. If I were to honestly explore this realm, it would need to be under his terms. I couldn’t dictate the conditions any more than I could tell a warring platoon what the battle conditions were to be. My presence would have to be under his terms and by following his rules, or I don’t go.

I sat on this story for weeks. Maybe I was anticipating a follow up letter from him with, perhaps, more of a spirit of negotiation, but none came. I even admit that I found myself lying in my bed at night a bit anxious. Not that I was being stalked or watched, but I found myself stirring…dare I say ‘aroused’. I was contemplating what would happen. What the circumstances would be like. I’m a very independent woman who prides herself on her own self control and ability to manage her own life, but I wondered how it would feel to be under someone’s complete control, physically, sexually, and mentally. What it would be like to experience such vulnerability. Maybe this was the stirring that drives others to pursue this kind of sexual exploration. Maybe it’s our innate compulsions to control our lives that leave us with the secretive desire to explore giving up that control. I hated to admit it, but I found myself not only sexually aroused, but almost obsessing with this erotic potential for much of my working days as well as fantasizing about it as I tried to go to sleep at night.

Tuesday morning, I finally made the decision to contact him to meet, but I’d have to have at least some minimum assurances.

Dear Dominic:

Thank you for writing back, and I apologize for not responding sooner. I would like to arrange a time to meet with you to explore your way of life for the purposes of writing an article.

I would need to have some baseline understandings before we met, just to ensure an understandable level of expectations and limitations, for my own peace of mind. I’m sure you understand why I would need to have some commitment to such.

Please advise me of a place and time to meet.

Sincerely,

Lori

I received a reply by the close of business that day. I admit that I felt restless about this potential endeavor. It wasn’t quite the same as doing battlefield reporting, where I might become an accidental casualty of war. In this case, I’m willingly becoming the target instead of merely reporting as an observer.

Lori:

I can meet with you at 11233 Centerline Road on 2PM on Friday. As I explained in my last message, I cannot meet with preconditions. If you wish to come, you do so of your own free will, but you are agreeing to my terms if you do so. These conditions are non-negotiable.

I usually do not offer any degree of consolation in what I do, but since you’re a reporter and not a client, I will offer you this: My lifestyle is not for everyone. It may not be for you. If you feel that you cannot accept my conditions, then this may not be the field in which you wish to investigate. But I offer no exceptions.

Master Dominic


I could already feel what his presence must be like. In fact, the domination has already begun. There was no flexibility in his tone. In fact, the way he emphasized “Master” in his signature line drew that point home without lecturing me about it. He was in charge.

I opened a reply window in my e-mail client to reply. My instinct was to decline. I had to have some degree of assurances that I was not going to be harmed…that I could stop the encounter at any point if I felt it was more than I was willing to endure, but “willingness” seemed to be the very thing that this was about surrendering. It was about submission…giving up control, and I wasn’t used to doing that.

As I lay in my bed trying to sleep that night, I found myself restless and anxious. I closed my eyes and imagined what an encounter with Master Dominic would be like. I took a few deep breaths and found my fingers slipping into my panties. I moistened my fingers with my mouth and slid then into the dainty fabric while I let my other hand gently pull them down over my hips and down to my knees, imagining it was someone else pulling them down. My wet fingers began parting the delicate folds of flesh amidst the short, bikini waxed hairs and circling the ripening bud above. My breathing became deeper while my other hand started reached behind my bottom and firmly grabbed a handful of my ass cheek and gave it a rough squeeze.

It wasn’t like me to ‘play rough’ with myself, but I found myself wondering what an encounter would be like. I was energized. Exhilarated! My fingers pushed inside me while I groped and grabbed my ass and inner thighs. I gave myself a firm smack on my ass while I was feverishly running my fingers in and out of me, when all at once, I jumped out of bed and turned on my computer.

My hormones were driving me at this point. I needed a release. I’ve never felt so sexually frustrated and anxious before. As my computer came on line, I went immediately to my e-mail client and pulled up Master Dominic’s e-mail and typed a simple response:

Master Dominic:

I will meet with you at 2PM on Friday at the address you mentioned.

Lori

I hit “send” and then felt the color leave my skin.

I wasn’t proud of myself at this moment. It wasn’t like me to ever let hormones drive my decisions. I felt embarrassed, and then considered that he was going to see that my e-mail was sent at 2:30AM. I wasn’t sure what he would read from this.

I went back to bed feeling less aroused now and more anxious. “What have I committed to?” I asked myself. I had terrible visions of a newspaper article next week saying, “Reporter found dead” or being in a hospital explaining my injuries, and what have I really exempted him from agreeing to meeting under terms like this?

I managed to get a few hours sleep, but the sexual drive that got me to write that letter was gone.

That morning, I had a simple reply.

As many frown on this lifestyle, you are to come alone and not share our time or location with anyone.

Master Dominic

Wednesday and Thursday passed without any further messages from Master Dominic. I also contemplated withdrawing my “appointment”, but couldn’t bring myself to do that, either. It’s weird, but I felt ashamed or embarrassed to cancel, since it would look like I merely ‘chickened out’.

I hardly slept Thursday night. As I was waking for the day on Friday morning, my heart was in my throat. I didn’t feel like I had an important date. It didn’t feel like I was going in for a risky surgery. It didn’t feel like a job interview. I couldn’t quite put my finger on how I felt. I was nervously excited, but reluctant. It felt like I was going to do something I shouldn’t, but was going to do anyway. Almost like I was cheating on myself. In fact, I found that this was becoming more about sexual curiosity than journalistic inquisitiveness. Part of me WANTED this.

Though I’m usually an evening bather, I chose to shower in the morning, for obvious reasons. It was like I was getting ready to go to a doctor’s appointment. While showering, I paid extra attention to all the appropriate areas, ensuring I was thoroughly clean and fresh. I shaved my legs and touched up my bikini area, leaving only a thin strip of short-trimmed hair. It was strange. I could cut the sexual tension with a knife, but didn’t feel like I was preparing for a ‘date’.

I stood in front of my closet for about 15 minutes wearing only my towel trying to figure out how I should dress. “Should I wear sexy lingerie? My expensive panties? Thigh-high stockings? Maybe I should just dress comfortable in jeans and simple, but pretty shirt.”

I decided that if I was supposed to be there as a reporter, I should dress as one and wore what I would wear on any other Friday to the office. I put on a simple, floral summer dress that was cream colored with adorned with peach colored flowers and green leaves, cream-colored pantyhose, and matching high heels that had ankle straps. I got my hair finished, spritzed a little perfume behind each ear, and was on my way to the office.

My heart was racing as I drove to work. Even as I walked in, I found myself preoccupied and jumpy. It felt like I had just committed a crime…or was about to. As I got into my office, I ‘Map Quested’ the address. I felt a little weak in the knees when I saw it was in the Warehouse district. A big red flag went up in my head and I could feel myself trembling. Why hadn’t I checked this address before?

I instantly had an urge to make up some last-minute excuse to cancel the ‘appointment’. I have a doctor’s appointment…a meeting I have to go to…but I suspected that this guy has likely seen them all and could see right through them. It was ironic that I was afraid to feel weak in front of this guy whom I never met, who I’m supposed to go see to basically hand myself over to for his own sexual amusement!

I also was aware that the darker side of me, having had considerable time to ponder what the goings on would be this afternoon, found myself strangely intrigued by the ‘dirty warehouse and the dirty man’. I had to admit that the location choice was almost cliché. It fit perfectly, and who knows? Maybe that’s why he picks that spot.

As 12:30 approached, I knew it was time to leave. As a little extra insurance, I decided to write a quick note as to where I was going and the purpose of the visit and leave it in my desk. Strange that this gesture gave me a little more confidence, since it wouldn’t matter unless…well, it was ‘too late.”

I drove to the location that the Map Quest directions brought me to, but it wasn’t the right spot. I had to drive around for about 15 minutes before I finally found it. I felt a bit nauseous and my palms were sweating. I was going over and over in my head what might happen…how I should greet him…it was obvious that the ‘control’ side of me wasn’t preparing herself for meeting a “master”.

I pulled into the parking lot of an old hanger-looking warehouse. It looked abandoned and had a few broken windows scattered throughout. I walked up to the closest door, but it was locked. I peeked through the windows and saw a dusty, abandoned building with a few, old, unrecognizable machines sitting in the corner.

I moved down to another door on the end, and it was open. I still wasn’t sure I was in the right place. I stepped in and closed the door, which squeaked with age and clanged shut.

It was silent inside…a little musty and old smelling. “Hello?” I called with a faint echo typical of a large, empty room. I walked in nervously.

I saw office space at one end of the building and proceeded towards it. As I opened the door, the office was mostly dark, with light coming in from a few stray cracks of sunlight coming through some old, metal blinds on a window. I jumped as I heard a man’s voice say with a defined huskiness, “You’re late.”

I immediately replied, “I know, I had a hard time…” but he interrupted, “You’re late.”

I felt intimidated. I felt like I was back in high school in the principle’s office. “I’m sorry” was all I could manage to say. Under any other circumstances, I wouldn’t have let someone talk to me condescendingly, but I felt at an obvious disadvantage.

“We’ll have to deal with that” was all he said. I felt in over my head. I knew I was here as a blank check, and I didn’t want to start the moment by pissing him off.

“Go to the desk”, he said sternly, but evenly.

My eyes hadn’t fully adjusted to the darkness yet. I looked briefly, but didn’t see one. Maybe it was my anxiety that I didn’t see it right away, but I felt confused and out of my element. “Excuse me?”

This time, his voice was impatient. He paused between each word. “Go … to … the … desk … and that had better be the last time I have to repeat myself.”

My anxiety was turning to genuine fear. I saw the desk he was referring to. It was an old, metallic gray desk…a sort of generic style that would have been used in non-descript offices maybe back in the 60’s or even 50’s. I also didn’t know how I didn’t notice it before, except maybe it was my feeling overwhelmed.

I sat on the end of the desk, as I thought I was instructed, and swallowed nervously.

“Are you here for a meeting or something? FACE THE DESK”, came the command.

I felt a tear working its way into the corner of one of my eyes as my pulse raced. “What am I doing here?” I asked myself. This wasn’t going as I expected, though I wasn’t sure what I expected. I found an ounce of humor for a moment considering that all my concerns with what to say or do when I arrived were moot.

I knew I was visibly trembling and I couldn’t tell how this affected him. Was he compassionate or did this turn him on all the more? I wondered what he thought of how I dressed. Was he expecting something different? Was he pleased? Did he me and how I look? There was no reading him.

Almost trying to stall, in some futile gesture that maybe he’d run out of time and have to leave, or some other distraction would spare me this moment, I got off the desk and turned around slowly and started crawling up on the desk to lie face down on it.

“Keep your feet on the floor, just face the desk. Am I going to have to explain everything to you?”

I sheepishly stepped off and bent over the desk face down with my arms curled up by my chest in a cowering fashion.

I replied to his question, “No, you won’t have to…”

**SMACK**

Like a jolt of electricity, my body jumped as I felt a shock of pain from what felt like a yardstick or a coat hanger hit my ass. Adrenalin surged through me, as well as fear. My apprehension gave away immediately to pure fear.

“You do NOT speak unless ORDERED to.”

“Yes, sir”, I replied obediently and instinctively. A tear rolled down my cheek.

**CRACK**

The next strike was harder and the thin layers of my dress, pantyhose and panties offered no protection. “You do NOT speak unless ORDERED to”, he said again.

I felt tears rolling down both cheeks now.

“My name is ‘Master’, not ‘Sir’. Is that clear?”

I was afraid to answer.

**CRACK**

“IS that CLEAR?”

“Yes”, was all I could manage to answer through sniffling and tears. I was ashamed to be broken so easily.

**SMACK**

“YES WHAT?”

“YES MASTER”, I said through a hiccupping sob.

I knew I was in over my head. I realized all my earlier concerns for how I looked, what to wear, what to say were all inept.

“On the floor you’ll find cuffs. Attach one to each of your ankles”

I didn’t know I was going to be restrained, let alone knowing I was going to have to restrain myself!

I bent down on the floor and saw one of the cuffs he was referring to. It was attached to the bottom of the desk with very little “leash” between the desk and the cuff. It attached to my ankle with a buckle strap, similar to a belt buckle. I slipped my shoes off and wrapped it around my stocking clad ankle and fastened the buckle snuggly. Then, I had to stand and bend over in a straddle to reach my other ankle, and did the same to it. The material of the cuff was thick leather, similar to that of a belt that a workman might wear to hold a tool belt. It looked adequate to restrain a large animal, let alone a petite woman.

“There’s a blindfold on the desk. Pick it up and put it on.”

I saw a wadded lump of material on the desk and picked it up. It was also leathery in feel and appearance. I let it fall out to it’s natural length and took each end in each hand. I saw as I moved it towards my face, that there was a hole in the lower center for my nose. I positioned it over my face with my nose through the hole and reached behind my head and fastened it. My heart was pounding in my chest. I wanted to run.

“Now reach your arms across the desk to the corners”

I was afraid to go any further. I was contemplating telling him this wasn’t what I expected, but I was afraid of his reaction. I had no ‘safe word’ or ‘out’. I did was I was told. I was also well aware of how this was positioning my body. With my legs straddled, I leaned across the desk, which thrusted my bottom upwards. Face down; I positioned myself as comfortable as I could, feeling another tear roll down my cheek under the blindfold.

I faced down towards the desk surface. He grabbed one of my wrists and I tensed. I heard something metallic…clinking like coins…then felt my wrists being cuffed, one to each desk corner, leaving my arms apart and outstretched in front of me.

The cuffs were definitely metal and linked through chains to what I expected were the legs of the desk on each side. The inside of the cuffs, where they contacted my wrists, felt like they were lined with some sort of fabric or leather.

Without a word, he walked back behind me and I could hear him picking something up. I could hear my own breathing. It was rapid and short. I had never felt so vulnerable and afraid. I was mentally struggling with the notion that I wasn’t being ‘raped’, in that I have volunteered for this! What was I thinking!? I nervously shifted my weight from one foot to the other as best I could and waited futilely for what would come next.

I began to feel my dress being lifted up from behind. “Here it comes”, I thought, bracing myself. I could feel a tugging on my dress and hear a strange but familiar noise in succession. I could feel the coolness of being exposed as the noise continued, but felt little else. The noise grew louder as I became aware that he was cutting off my dress! I could hear each scissor slice through the fabric until it reached up by my neck. He cut the dress free on my left side, and then went to the right to cut the other sleeve.

“What would I wear home?” I worried…or is there any plan for me to go home? I felt more vulnerable than ever. He pulled my dress off of me, with me instinctively lifting my chest off the table as best I could so he could pull it out. The desk surface felt cold against my chest, though my bra offered some protection for the moment, though I knew it wouldn’t be likely on much longer. I felt the blade of the scissors (or was it a knife at this point) slide between my bare back and my bra strap and lift up sharply until the bra strap sliced, dropping each side of the strap carelessly on each side of my back against the desk. He snipped each shoulder strap and I lifted up just in time for him to rip it out from under me, allowing each breast to fall out. My bare breasts seem to absorb the coldness of the steel desk surface.

His hand ran across my sheer-covered ass and grabbed each cheek in turn. The grasp was firm and my cheeks still stung from their earlier lashing.

I felt him pull on the waistband of my pantyhose and the blade make a small incision through the fabric. Then I felt him pull it apart with his hands, tearing my hose apart, until he pulled them down my legs to my feet, leaving me wearing only my panties and blindfold on.

The panties didn’t last long. With a quick double snip, he pulled them free quickly and unceremoniously, leaving my bottom bare and exposed. I was now completely nude.

Unable to move with my ass thrust upward and bare, and knowing I didn’t even have clothes to wear anymore rendered me more vulnerable and exposed than I ever recall being. I was quivering with anxiety and my heart and breathing were racing, betraying my fears to my Master. I could imagine how I looked with my legs fully apart and my most sensitive being exposed, vulnerable, and fully accessible to him. I nervously shifted my weight from foot to foot and I could feel the anxiety and sexual tension arousing me down there.

He walked around me, running his hand down my back and bottom. This was the first time during all of this I actually felt him touch my skin. My body tensed at his touch…I could feel myself trembling. I felt a touch again, but this time it was some sort of fabric brushing along my skin. It almost tickled. He came around towards the front of me, slowly and lightly dragging the cloth up my legs, across my bottom, between the cheeks making me jump a little, and up my back. This tickling felt playful and it was a welcome relief from what I had experienced so far. I felt the fabric drift across my neck and head. I could faintly smell the cloth…it had a musky sort of scent combined with a familiar, sort of floral smell. “My laundry detergent”, I thought, sort of puzzled.

“Put your panties in your mouth”, he ordered. Unable to see, he held them by my nose. I recognized my own, feminine scent emanating from them. In fact, it was a bit muskier than usual, evidence of my arousal state as I drove here. I opened my mouth and he pushed them in. I was a repulsed at the thought of this. I found myself regretting my decision to come here.

He walked back behind me. “What have I gotten myself into?”, I pondered. “How long will I be here?” “How long will this last?” “What will he do with me?” “What will he do TO me?”

I started to feel him behind me. It was interesting how in tune all my senses were becoming. As if it were a struggle for having some sort of control. Waiting seemed to be the hardest part of all of this. I think I expected much more to have happened much sooner. It seemed like over an hour since I was secured down to the desk and stripped nude.

**SMAAAACK**

Another unexpected smack was delivered on the left cheek of my bottom, but this time, with it bare. I felt the flesh jiggle with the hit and the sting lingered for some time.

**SMAAAACK**

**SMAAAACK**

**SMAAAACK**

It was almost more than I could handle. He struck each cheek in turn, leaving them both feeling sore and raw. I didn’t care about obeying any longer. I spit my panties out of my mouth and pleaded with him.

“Please, this isn’t want I thought I was coming here for. I’m sorry.”

**SMAAAACK**

Tears rolled down my cheek.

**SMAAAACK**

Then, without warning, I felt his hand firmly massaging my privates. I jumped at this touch. Though it wasn’t painful like the spankings were, it felt far more invasive. I tensed while his hand rubbed and kneaded my soft, pink flesh. I squirmed a little, as if trying to find a position that might restrict his access, but there was none available. It almost felt like a contest for me to avoid showing any semblance of arousal or approval, but my own body was betraying me.

I stopped squirming and tensed, maybe feeling if I froze, it would prevent any reaction. I couldn’t stop it. I felt my juices flowing like a river. I became highly aroused…much more so than any fondling I have received from the most intimate of lovers in my life. I was so tensed up and stressed, my pelvis was melting in his hands. I felt my breasts warming and my face flushing. I almost wanted to cry in erotic release.

I could feel a pearl of my warm, slick fluids bead up and run slowly down the inside of my right thigh.

“Ohhhh..mmmmmph”, I let out with a moan.

“Do you want to leave now?” he asked, almost rhetorically.

His hands continued massaging my lips and started pinching my clitoris. I couldn’t answer. Just a moment ago, I was looking to run, but I was frozen…almost like watching a car accident…you know you shouldn’t, but you can’t stop.

I didn’t move. I stood there motionless in my bound, straddled position. It was if any movement may make it not feel quite as good. I could tell I was drenching his hand.

“I asked you if you wanted to leave”, he said sternly. I had been praying for an opportunity to end this, but now I couldn’t. “Just say the word, and I’ll stop. You have my promise. And this is your last and only opportunity to call this off…bitch.”

His words struck me like a stark warning. Everything in my head said to take his offer and leave. “Jump in your car and go”, I thought. I could get home and go in the house through the garage. Nobody would see me naked.

“While you consider your answer, consider that I have the note you left in your office of where you are.”

My eyes were closed tightly, concentrating on the stimulation, but I felt myself jump back to reality at those words.

“Leaving a note? That’s original”, he scoffed.

How did he even get in my office? He read excerpts from the note. I knew he had it. I also knew that meant he broke into my desk! And that there’s no proof of where I am!

I didn’t know how to answer. My mind was begging me to quit and leave, but I couldn’t manage the words.

Suddenly, I felt something shoving into me. It was an object. A sex toy, perhaps.

“Ughhhhh! Mmmmmm….” It went deep inside my pussy. My back arched as much as my restraints would allow.

“Is that a yes or a no”, he challenged.

He pulled it most of the way out and then shoved it back in…deeper this time.

“Last chance. Going once…”

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak.

“Going twice…”

Then I felt something new. The object was still in me, but I felt something brushing against my bottom…against my butt’s entrance. Something pointy…
Then, without warning, something shoved into my anus. I clenched and tried to tighten reflexively to keep it out, but it was well lubricated.

“Ohhhhh!”

“Gone!” He said.

I felt defeated. I couldn’t speak. Against my better judgment, I failed to respond.

The object in my bottom went in further. It was about the diameter of a candle and felt like it was covered with Vaseline…a very slick and greasy lubricant. My muscles down there were not enough to stop it. It was long and slender, but had numerous bumps or ridges along the way, and widened as it went deeper.

He pushed it further in, and I felt each ridge shocking my muscles and nerves down there with waves of sensations. My hands gripped the sides of the desk for support and my eyes clenched shut.

I found my concerns melting away as ecstasy enveloped me. He was running both devices in and out of my body with greater speed. My muscles in my bottom relaxed a bit, no longer attempting to resist what was happening. They held only enough pressure to keep the sensations at an optimum.

My muscles tensed and my eyes clenched shut. I couldn’t hold back. My breathing quickened to a fast pace while my skin beaded sweat. “No” I said, feeling defeated and humiliated that he had such control of me.

Then, with a rotating motion and a couple of more thrusts, my body burst into orgasm. I writhed and thrashed under my restraints while my body released.

“See? You’re mine”, he said adding, “Just give it up”

He turned on a vibrator function within the device in my ass and pushed it in as far as it would go, but stopped running it in and out. My bottom held on to it fast like someone hanging on to a rope, keeping it in place and allowing the rhythmic pulses to coarse through me. I was vaguely aware of him having let it go and him walking around to the front of me. My pussy was aching and throbbing from my orgasm.

I became aware of something by my mouth, which he pushed in. It was definitely his cock. I immediately formed a seal around it with my mouth and started exploring it thoroughly with my tongue. I applied suction to it and began sucking on it as if I was dying of thirst and was attempting to get a drink from it.

I had never been keen on performing oral sex. It was a dirty, unsanitary act, in my opinion, but I didn’t care at this point. I feverishly nurtured on him, rolling my head and sucking with reckless abandon. I kept my anal muscles clenched upon the device in my ass while I amply worked on him with my mouth. The sensation was spellbinding. I could taste the salty, acrid taste of his precum. It was like a delicacy. I wondered why I hadn’t found pleasure in this in the past. A new sexuality was awakening within me.

As I was getting into it and losing myself in the moment, he unexpectedly pulled out.

I heard him opening a door and moving something. Something metallic or mechanical. He pulled the object out of my ass without explanation. Were we done, I wondered? He didn’t cum…or, at least I don’t think he did.

I felt him unfastening my ankle restraints, and then a moment later, my wrist restraints.

“Stand up”, he said.

I did so without saying anything and stood there before him still blindfolded and completely nude. My anus and pussy were pulsating and swollen with desire, and begging for more attention. I could feel my juices beaded and dribbling from me, and I could smell my musky, feminine scent. I was breathing deeply. I could still taste and feel him in my mouth.

He took off my blindfold. I saw what he had rolled into the room. It was a medical table; similar to the one I’m on when I go into my gynecologist’s office. It had a seat area, a retractable back, and stirrups for my feet. The difference with this one was that it had cuffs and restraints throughout.

He gave me a moment to look at it. He was also still clothed, except his belt was still unfastened from earlier. It felt awkward to be nude in front of a clothed man. I looked at the table and then back at him. I wasn’t sure why, but it seemed eerily strange. Almost “clinical”, which I guess would make sense, but women feel uncomfortable enough being propped up on these tables and then poked and prodded.

“Should I call you ‘doctor’, Master”, I joked nervously.

“Sit”, was all he said.

I gulped a little and then sat down as instructed.

I put my feet up in the stirrups and he immediately fastened the ankle cuffs and my wrists to the cuffs fastened to the side of the table. He pushed my head back on to the headrest and ran a strap attached to the back around my neck and fastened it from behind the table. Another one was run around my waist and fastened on the side.

I found I wasn’t as nervous anymore. In fact, I was begging to see what was coming next. I was aching for more.

After I was fully secured, the next surprise came. The door opened and a man came in, wearing a mask that showed only his eyes and mouth. He was a black man, approximately 6 feet tall, but I was unable to discern an age due to his disguise.

I wanted to cover up, like someone came in unexpectedly as I came out of a shower, but my restraints prevented this. Did he know him? Was he expecting this?

They both looked at me. I couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking, since his mask hid his expression; however, his eyes looked at me hungrily he had a devilish smile that his mask didn’t conceal. They both almost seemed to study me. Scanning me, considering the possibilities as well as gauging my reaction. I stared at the new one as he approached me. I’m sure I was looking at him fearfully, which may have intrigued him. He ran a coarse hand down my body, over my right breast, and across my pussy. “Shaved? Nice” was all he said.

I shifted a little uncomfortably and couldn’t help but stare at him watching me, when my host walked behind me and refastened my blindfold over my eyes. He wanted me to see him before masking me.

I could hear them undressing. I wasn’t sure if both were undressing or not, then all was quiet.

Suddenly, I jumped as I felt something in my pelvic area. My hands grasped their restraints when I began to feel stimulated down there. It was a tongue. My body tensed as this began. I didn’t know which one it was, but the stimulation didn’t cease.

Again, I jumped when I felt a new sensation. Something clamped on my left nipple. A clothespin or a clip of some sort. “Ow!” I said, involuntarily…then the other one was pinched equally. I knew it wasn’t fingers, and the sensation remained fixed in position while the man between my legs continued flicking and licking my delicate flesh. The combination of pain and pleasure stimulated me in ways I had never experienced. I tried to focus on the pleasure, but the tension of the pain on my nipples made the pleasure more intense.

He began burying his face into me and eating me fully. His mouth engulfed me down there, nibbling and sucking my fluids and I could feel my breathing getting deeper. His dimpled, almost smooth, leather-like tongue glided and painted across my bare shaven skin, flipping and teasing along the delicate folds, parting them and manipulating them, teasingly darting and rolling the swelling bud at the top. I felt like I was flowing like a river.

I was scarcely remembering where I was.

The man orally tending to me started to slide a little further down. As with many gynecological tables, there was a forward part of the seat that dropped down like a trap door, which he dropped down. He reached with his hands and started grasping and kneading my ass, pulling the cheeks apart, and his tongue found its way to my anus. I was still sensitive back there from my earlier stimulation and probing. His tongue began to flirt and play with it, much like he started with my pussy.

I could feel his tongue rolling and probing the entrance. It was an unusual feeling, yet not unpleasant. My own juices were rolling back to that area as well, and his tongue made it all the wetter.

My head rolled back and my eyes were shut tight under my blindfold while he nurtured and tended to me, eating me fully. I felt something against my cheek near my mouth, and turned to it like a baby to a bottle, opening my mouth, and took it in. I could tell instantly that it was a cock, but it wasn’t the one I had earlier. I could tell it was shaped differently and the taste wasn’t exactly the same, but I didn’t care. I immediately took to it and started sucking away as if I hadn’t skipped a beat from earlier on my host’s. I wasn’t aware at first that the sucking on my lower regions had stopped.

I took the cock all the way in my mouth, as far as I could go, and formed a tight seal with my lips. I sucked and bobbed my head, partially withdrawing it, and then taking it back in, swallowing every droplet of precum that came. I could feel it hardening in my mouth, and could tell it was very big before it hardened. My tongue circled it and played with it while it was in there. I learned every corner, ridge, and shape through my tongue’s tactile exploration and savored the feel and taste.

I began to feel something new near my pussy…I could tell quickly that it was my master’s cock. I could feel his body on either side of my spread legs. His hips were brushing against the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs and the heat of his cock was felt by my pussy, telling me that it was very close to it. I began to feel him brush my pussy’s lips, searching for the opening. I was so wet down there, I couldn’t stop him from entering me if I tried.

Then, with a sudden thrust, he shoved himself all the way into me. There was no probing or preparation…it was one, hard motion. I instinctively tried to lurch forward, but my neck restraint prevented it and also squelched my attempted yell as the leather belt pressed onto my throat. My head dropped back and I moaned a short “ohhh”. I could feel his pelvis against mine. He was all the way in me.

I turned my head, open mouthed, back towards the new man, to which his cock found its way back into my mouth and I resumed nourishing myself on it. I felt my master start thrusting himself in and out of me.

There was no ceremony or romance about it. This was purely physical and carnal…animal like. He plunged himself into me until our pelvises bumped and then pulled out, over and over, for what seemed like an hour. I writhed and squirmed under my restraints…the stimulation was overpowering. I was having a hard time concentrating on my oral endeavors. I finally couldn’t keep up and took him out of my mouth and started moaning and almost screaming!

My back arched and I could feel my bottom’s cheeks jiggling with each pounding into my body. My pussy felt raw and worn, but didn’t want it to stop, but it did. I could tell he hadn’t come yet. I tightened and froze up, and then felt another orgasm explode within me. It was like electrical shocks shooting through my body, and I had never been one to have multiple orgasms. Even while I convulsed, he pulled out of me, seemingly without reason.

Within a few seconds, I felt a cock by my mouth again, but could also detect my own, feminine scent. They were switching places. I took him back in, savoring his familiar flavor intertwined with my own. I hadn’t experienced my own taste before. It was different. I contemplated for a moment what another woman might taste like.

As I began sucking him, licking clean all traces of my own viscous fluids from him and again, enjoying the essence of his precum, I felt his friend down by my legs. I sucked vehemently on him when I felt his friend’s cock finding my hole as my master did earlier. The head was bigger than my master’s was. He slowly, but without hesitating, pushed the head through my opening, stretching it further than it ever had been. His girth was almost more than I could stand. After it made it past the entrance, his pace picked up a little while he steadily pushed himself all the way into me. At least I was happy that I already had someone a little smaller in there first.

Each stroke sent a wave through me of about 80% pleasure and 20% pain, but that ratio improved with each thrust as my body accepted it. I could feel my breathing increase, but continued to suckle and stroke on my master’s cock.

I was all over the cock in my mouth like a kid with a popsicle. I was almost getting frustrated that he hadn’t come yet. Guys I’d been with in the past didn’t have this kind of staying power. I wanted to grab it with my hands and fondle his balls and stroke his shaft, but my restraints prevented this.

My partner on the other end continued slamming me. I could feel his balls slapping my ass with each pounding. “Ahhh, so tight”, I heard him mumble at one point. I wondered how many women they’ve done this with. He adjusted his position slightly, grabbing my hips, and pulling me into him firmly with each mighty thrust. This put a little pressure on my restraints throughout. His hands were big and strong. They held my hips fast, with a few of his long fingers stretching to my ass cheeks.

Then, as before, it all stopped. The cock in my mouth pulled out and my pussy felt worn and empty.

They wasted no time switching positions. I hungrily searched for that big, black cock with my mouth as he approached. “Yeah, bitch…you want it, don’t you?” he said. I turned my head and, mouth open, found him and extending my tongue like a snake, wrapped it around his tip and drew him back in, this time savoring my flavors mixing with his. I was acquiring a taste for female flavor.

My master got between my legs and placed his hands under my ass, lifting it for a moment…positioning me. As I greedily sucked on that big, black cock, starving for its payload, I felt that now familiar cock brushing up and down on my pussy again…but this time, instead of brush stroking my from clit down to my pussy entrance, it was going from entrance down to…well, entrance. Was he thinking what I think he’s thinking?

Yes, he was. I felt him find my back entrance and start brushing it gently with his hard tip. He began to push inward. I tensed and my mouth clenched a bit on the cock in my mouth. I felt one of those large hands grasp one of my breasts and squeeze it. “Easy, bitch” he said. I concentrated on relaxing both top and bottom, and he continued to grasp my breast fully, tweaking my clamped nipple with his fingers, increasing the pressure of the clamp on my nipple. My eyes tightened at the pain, but I continued sucking him raw.

The cock slid into my ass. It was harder to take than the object in there earlier, but I was trying to remember what I learned during that experience about muscle control. I made a concerted effort to allow him in, which he took full advantage of. I let out an involuntary moan and writhed in ecstasy as he made his way all the way in. No man had been in me there before. I felt my body sweating. My skin must have been pure pink. He leaned over me, putting his upper body down on my chest and continued pumping my ass, but then while his pace picked up, he reached down on each side and released my wrist restraints only. My neck, ankles, and waist remained constrained.

I immediately put my arms around him and held him tightly while he pumped me raw.

He pulled himself back up and held my thighs from the outside and started pumping me quicker. I could hear the change in his breathing, indicating he was getting closer. I put my hands over that beautiful cock in my mouth and started stroking it with one hand and cupping his balls with the other, rolling them and massaging them. I knew he had to be close, too.

The black man’s breathing picked up pace. I sucked harder and fondled him and heard him moan under his breath. “Ohhhh”, he said. “I’m gonna…”

Then, he burst in my mouth. I felt it coursing through the inside of his cock with each pulse and releasing hot, thick fluid in my mouth. My first instinct was to hold it in my mouth until he was done, but there was too much. I finally started to swallow. The first gulp was full, like I had a mouth full of a milkshake, then I swallowed each ejaculation in turn. I continued to suck him dry while he pumped me full of that sweet, salty fluid.

His hand remained fixed to my breast as he came in my mouth, gripping it tighter. I wanted to wrap my legs around my master as he drove himself in and out of my ass. I wanted to pull him in tighter and deeper.

He continued pumping me when he said, “Undo her” to his friend. The other man unfastened my neck restraint, then my waist, and then my ankles while master continued to drive into me. He pulled out with a moan and then told me to turn over. I could barely stand, but I turned over and faced down on the table. My breasts pressed down on to the table’s surface, causing the nipple clamps hurt, but I didn’t care. My legs were draped down the front, as before on the desk. He took hold of each hip and guided his cock back towards my ass and without hesitation, plunged himself back into me.

I could feel his pelvis slapping my ass, jiggling it a little, with each thrust. The sensation was different from this angle. His cock was reaching areas of me inside it wasn’t before. I felt the other man’s hand reaching for my clit and started massaging it. I could feel my master building up to orgasm.

The strokes became slower but harder and much deeper, with slight pauses when he was all the way in when I felt him explode! I propped my torso up on my elbows and arched my back as I felt him pulse and unload into my ass. Each surge caused his cock to throb and pulse, and that warm, wet feeling of being filled with his cum overwhelmed me.

“Oh, yeah…OH YEAH!” I squealed as his raging, throbbing cock lead me to a final orgasm.

I collapsed back, naked and exhausted. Sweat glistened on my bare skin and I took long, deep breaths as if I had just run a marathon. I had completely forgotten the world.

As I lay there, the black man reapplied my blindfold. I didn’t understand why. Was there more to come? Were they not finished? I didn’t know how much more I could take.

I laid there waiting to see what would happen. I was unrestrained, but too exhausted to move, talk, or otherwise.

I ran one hand across my body, wiping off the sweat, when I felt one of the nipple clamps. I had almost forgotten they were there!

“So, what are you planning next?” I asked coyly, but no reply came. I waited a few more moments before taking off my blindfold. Everyone was gone.

I sat up and looked around. I could hear a car start and leave outside. I suddenly felt naked. My ecstasy gave way to reality, that I was alone, naked, and in a strange place. My tattered clothes lay on the floor in a careless pile. I stood up and modestly covered by breasts and lower section with my hands and arms. My purse was in the corner, untouched.

I walked barefoot on the dirty floor. Everything was just abandoned. Me, the desk, exam table, restraints…I started to ask myself how I could have agreed to any of this. I opened the door and looked into the warehouse. There was a paper grocery bag by the door I didn’t see on the way in.

I walked over, carefully looking around to see if anyone else was in this building who would naturally wonder why a nude woman is walking around.

I looked into the bag and there was a gray, unmarked jogging suit and a note.

“This isn’t the limit of our talents. Call if you’re interested in moving on to level 2”

I gratefully slipped into the jogging suit, minus any under garments, jumped in my car and drove home.

I showered as soon as I got in. I wondered if I had made a good decision doing what I did today…or better put, having done to me what I submitted to having done, but I couldn’t deny that I still quivered at the thought. I also was much bolder and more sexual than I ever gave myself credit for.

Would there be another time? Not likely soon, but I’d bet curiosity would once again get the best of me.