Down.
Down.
Down.
The industrial sparse warehouse-feel offered no cushion for the easily intimidated. The harsh walls and uncarpeted stairs seemed to grab ahold and strip you of your vanilla masks the further you walked down to the club's interior entrance.
Down.
Down.
Down.
Toward one the Devil's many earth-bound lairs hidden in the city, Paddles.
Every stair step lowered us closer toward the what would be my truth, His, and Ours. After years of waiting, I'd finally know if some of what I'd always suspected about myself was real. We'd both know if this was truly a beginning of a long exploration or just a short thrill ride. Neither of us seemed to hold any doubt, but as the saying goes...Action speaks louder than words. Words alone are nothing more than empty promises and more often than not mirages of misdirection. With my head high, clad in four-inch heels (Yes, that made me 6' 3" lol), fishnet suspenders, and a very short dress with a plunging neckline that had long sat in my closet awaiting this moment, my lioness eagerly strolled toward fate, her first dungeon, and her first real run with an Alpha Lion.
The moment we opened the door, the music pulsed its sinful temptation through our veins, and the dark sanctuary welcomed me like like I'd finally come home. After shedding the coat that had hidden my barely-covering-my-ass black dress but not hidden my unquestionable slutty tendencies on our two-block walk from His car, He grasped my hand and led me through the venue. Aside from the almost normal-looking bar, every space seemed geared to encourage pain, pleasure, or both. The oversized bird-cage, the barely-lit corners, the handholds on the walls, the leather covered sawhorse, the prison cell...
Oh fuck yes...that prison cell with its metal bars and 8' by 5' mirror. Yes, there...tucked away almost privately. Yes...there. There He began our night's dark run and my next journey through the darkness barely contained within me.
He wasted no time securing my wrists to the spreader bar hovering nearly seven feet in the air in center of the stark dimly lit cell. A floor length mirror forced me to face my own wanton appearance. I focused on His movements, not quite able to face the reality of myself. I was ready to feel it, but seeing it...meeting my whore face-to-face wasn't yet a comfortable sensation.
"Spread your legs."
My heart raced, and I obeyed, watching Him watch me.
"Stick out your ass."
I leaned forward as far as the spreader bars would allow me and arched my back.
Without hesitation or warning He pulled my dress to my waist and bared my g-string that did nothing to hide my wide pale plump ass. His warm firm hands stroked and molded my cheeks. Just that simple touch had my eyes fluttering shut and a moan escaping my lips. He gave me my safe word instructions, making me say it again and again until He was satisfied. A harsh slap to my ass was my reward.
I sighed as another smack landed. With a smile I arched my neck back in bliss. Yes...This. Him. Us.
Again and again His palms struck my ass.
I flinched but lifted my ass eager for His next touch. My nipples tightened, and my cunt dripped.
His hands continued to strike me, but to my reluctance, He forced me to practice my safe word. Nothing in me wanted His pain to stop. I was a starved thirsty lioness lapping at the bits of masochistic bliss from His Sadistic tests. I breathed through my impatience, understanding He had to make sure I could walk this rocky road before we could run and climb higher. Once. Twice. I would say it, and He would stop. The lesson imprinted in my mind.
He stood beside me a step behind, His arm around my waist. "Open your eyes. Tell me what you see."
My eyes immediately shifted to Him still reluctant to face myself. "You. I'm here for You. As Yours. To do with as You'd like."
"Good girl." His hand caressed the deep curves from my waist to my thigh.
His touch was both a relief and an agonizing tease. I needed to be taken. I needed to hurt. I needed for at least a night...to be claimed. I did everything I could to dam the increasing pressure in my soul. That unnamed darkness in me begged to be set free, but more than anything, I wanted to please Him. I didn't want to let myself down or Him.
He seemed to feel the tension and need churning in me. His hand molded my ass again. After a moment, the sweet sting of a flogger kissed my pale cheeks. I sighed. Another and another and another lash fell until that lovely tingle of fire danced across my skin. He eased me in slowly. The light brushes teased at pain but never bit into my flesh. They didn't send me flying, but every minute I relaxed further.
I raised my ass to each strikes, and my head fell in pure blessed relief.
When He paused, I wanted to protest but He stepped once again to my side to fill His hands with my breasts and my wet inner thighs. I whimpered as sexual desire flared. When He grabbed my cunt I ground myself into Him intuitively.
Fuuuuck...THIS.
To be grabbed intimately in a public setting...where others might see. I didn't give a fuck. My sexuality was His. My whore was just as fucking hungry as my masochist. My hips thrust in reflex. I groaned deeply as primal instincts kicked in. I was so fucking close.
His hand slid inside the front of my thong, and His fingers rubbed my soaked clit hiding between the hot wet folds of my pussy.
I cried out and whispered His name. I was begging.
The restraints dug into my wrists and the muscles in my arms felt the stretch as I tried to get closer...to create more friction...to feel Him sink into me. I wanted...wanted...I didn't care what was and was not allowed. My only thought was His touch.
"Don't cum," He instructed.
I whimpered even as I humped His fingers.
"Don't."
"Cum."
"Fuck," I whispered brokenly. Then remembered basic protocols and whimpered a respectful but almost painful, "Yes, Sir."
My mind could barely register the denial. I felt almost hurt. Yet, on some distant plane of rational thought that barely registered, I understood the impracticalities of my gushing orgasm in a public space, being forced to hold back grated on the sexual beast that paced restlessly inside me.
"Good girl." With firm hands and long strokes down my frame, He settled me, bringing me back from the edge and firmly once again under His control. When my breathing evened out He released me from the wrist restraints and brought me to His arms.
I leaned into His heat, but after years of being denied I wasn't anywhere near sated. My masochist and my whore were both impatient and fucking hungry.
Once I was steady, He grabbed our bag of goodies and led us to another area.
I followed.
~DominaKat
To be continued...Part II
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