Dark Daze: Part I
By
Jen G.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction containing graphic descriptions of sex and is not for minors. Emails are welcomed by me if they are courteous: jengurlez@yahoo.com
I decided to share this episode of my life because I still can't believe how a few hours could have created such an amazing and revolutionary change in one person -- that person being myself. It's only been about 2 years since the event which I'm about to describe occurred, but le me get one thing straight (no pun intended) -- I am not advocating that anyone do what I did or even read this if you object to `deviant' sexuality. Go somewhere or read something vanilla. But for those of you who may be interested I one person's introduction to the deliciously dark world of lesbian submission, then read on -- it might help your fantasy life at least.
I was 27 when all of this happened. I was working for a pharmaceutical company as a rep/supervisor -- still am. The job's OK: I make enough to live comfortably and my upbeat personality helps me with sales. So do my looks: I'm 5'8", 123-127 lbs depending on the day, 30-22-32, long dark hair and hazel eyes. Because I'm a long-distance cyclist my thighs are pretty well-developed. Unlike most women I've ever known, I am not ashamed of my puny breasts -- they're about the size of a small mouthful, but my nipples are very large and very very sensitive. People tell me I'm pretty, but I'm not so sure -- but I am sure of my physicality and femininity.
I've been out of the closet since my early twenties. It took me a while to admit to myself that I just didn't like guys in a sexual way. My first sexual experiences with them were less than disappointing, just never did anything for me. Finally during a trip out of town I had a little too much to drink and ended up in a girl's hotel room and I discovered the wonderfulness of women and satisfying orgasms. I can still remember how sweet her pussy tasted...my first sampling of another woman's love-juices.
I'm living alone now, pretty happily, but 2 years ago I was in a `relationship' with my roommate. She's a great person, but after the first few months our sex life really got boring. She's definitely all-vanilla and I was definitely looking for something more. Anyway, it was during one of our lengthy humdrum phases that I met Caroline and through her was initiated into an amazing new world of incredible feeling, and through her discovered what really turned me on. Now I can't imagine my life without "it."
Caroline was a researcher at our company. I got to know her after a presentation on one of our new products. She's a blonde, a few inches shorter than I am, in her late 30s but really really trim and fit and incredibly sexy even though she plays down her looks -- never wears makeup except for a little lipstick, always dresses conservatively, etc. The office scuttlebutt says that she had a messy divorce a few years back and since then she's basically just worked hard and pretty much kept to herself. There were a few rumors that she `turned lez' because of her ex.
She fascinated me. Not only was she beautiful (she's small-breasted like me, quite slender but curvy, has long sexy legs and an incredibly gorgeous ass), but she also had an aura of quiet strength. Whenever we ran into each other I just couldn't take my eyes off her. I finally got up the nerve to suggest lunch using the pretext that I could use a little help from her on some of the medications I was representing, and it was nice. We talked business and then girl-talk, nothing heavy, and we liked each other. Then we got into the habit of lunching every other week and becoming friendly. I knew I was tremendously turned on by her but I thought I hid it fairly well and I didn't have any intentions of screwing up relationship with Sarah (in case you didn't know it, it's really hard to find a girl-partner out there in the real world).
During the spring I mentioned how much I loved to bike in the countryside, getting away from the city, and Caroline told me that she had a great vacation home in the "mountains" upstate, a few hours drive from the city. The house was a relic of her marriage -- the ex got to keep their city home. Then she sent my stomach into freefall when she invited me up for a weekend in June. She knew I was attached, but she was clear in extending the invitation to me alone. She described how lovely the scenery was and how beautiful it would be to bike through it.
As the weekend approached I simply told Sarah I had to go away for an out-of-town conference and she didn't give it a second thought. Caroline instructed me to come up on Friday night after work on my own since she would be driving up in the morning, but she suggested that I take Monday off so that things wouldn't be rushed.
When Friday arrived I could barely contain myself and had to struggle to keep focused, and then during the drive I had to keep telling myself not to rush. Yet I couldn't help pleasantly fantasizing about making love to this beautiful woman, despite the pangs of guilt I felt about Sarah. I had decided to play it safe in the clothing department... I wore a light summery dress that accentuated my olive skin and Dansko clogs, and brought a few other casual items in my overnight bag. I was used to traveling light. But I was also wearing a very sexy silk bra and panties, and packed a thong and a fine-mesh see-through bra just in case I got lucky. Not that I had any expectations aside from a little naughty secret fun....
Caroline was al smiles when I pulled up after dark. She was in worn jeans and cowboy boots and a man's white oxford shirt pulled up above her midriff -- a far cry from how she dressed at work, that's for sure. She was in fantastic shape and had a ballet dancer's body. In this relaxed atmosphere her face was especially sweet and alluring, and as we kissed hello her lips brushed against mine.
"Make yourself at home", she said, "I've got plenty of food if you're hungry". I didn't have much of an appetite for food, but I accepted the opportunity to share some wine. So we settled down on her sofa and I was admiring the view of the woods as she bustled about in her spacious retreat. It was at least a mile from the nearest neighbor and surrounded by forest all round.
"This is really spectacular", I gushed.
"Thank you, Jen, I thought you'd like it -- the air's so wonderful up here... Are you tired?" she queried.
"Not at all", I replied, "I feel so energetic..." I was also feeling a very pleasant buzz from the first glass of wine.
We started chatting while soft jazz played in the background unobtrusively. It dawned on me how `romantic' everything seemed -- low lights, lovely music, and Caroline, who looked so radiantly sensuous.
"Some more wine?" she asked.
"Why not?" I giggled sheepishly. Caroline rose and returned with a full glass and a shallow glass bowl, which she set at her feet. I was speechless and the hair on the back of my neck tingled, and I didn't want to break the spell of the evening, so I kept silent.
After a long minute of Caroline's eyes burning into mine, she said, "I thought you wanted more wine, Jennifer?"
The way she said "Jennifer" gave me butterflies -- I can't explain it -- there was a kind of power and challenge in her voice. Yes, she was very beautiful, very feminine, and very powerful. And in this moment I found myself falling into a decisive action that would change my life irrevocably. Something gave way within me: my throat grew dry and my knees week. Before I even knew what I was doing I was on my hands and knees quietly lapping the wine from the bowl at Caroline's feet.
Caroline caressed my long silken hair and murmured sultrily, "I think I know what you really need, Jennifer".
This sent a shock through me. Caroline then gathered my hair in swept it away from my face as I drank gingerly. I could smell her arousal. I can't describe how I felt -- overwhelmed by sexual tension, by shame and mortification, by an awareness of something so degraded but so deliciously liberating, and by the consciousness of having made a clear, if frightening, choice.
Caroline moved my head gently into and out of the bowl, asserting control. We played a little game -- she lowered my head just out of reach of my extended tongue, and pulled it up completely out of range, teasing. I loved being treated like this, being teased. She finally let me finish and then yanked my head up sharply. Out of the blue she smartly smacked my wine-stained mouth.
"Naughty girl!" she exclaimed. And she slapped me again, harder, and again, and again. My pussy grew wet and Caroline was aware of my state.
"I know exactly what you need, Jennifer, whether you realize it or not", she whispered, "and before long you're going to be begging me to do things you've never even dreamed of".
I was now burning with shame and excitement. I'd never willingly ever let anyone slap me before -- and here I was growing so hot and wet with desire for this `quiet' professional woman whom I hardly knew because she had slapped my pretty face. What more was she capable of, was I capable of?
I wanted to slip her jeans and panties off and sink my slapped face into her cunt. I wanted to please her.
Then Caroline bent over and kissed me long and deep, all the while holding my hair firmly in hand. At the end of this delicious kiss she lifted my skirt and smacked my left buttock sharply and I purred.
"You've been waiting a long time for this", she murmured. I bowed my head.
How can I really describe the depths of tumultuous joy as I submitted, the anxiety, the fear, the desperate sexual yearning as Caroline unbuttoned the back of my dress and in one stroke ripped the rest of it apart, leaving me only in my sexy lingerie and clogs? How she wound the dress remnant around my wrists behind my back, binding them, how she tenderly kissed the side of my neck before leading me downstairs?
We entered a very large room with surprisingly high ceilings, a combination den, rec room and gym. One entire wall was mirrored, against which was positioned a sturdy ballet bar. A small trapeze bar hung from the ceiling near the pommel horse, and I figured out that she must have been both dancer and gymnast, which accounted for her incredible body. And in the corner was a boxing speed bag, probably a leftover from her ex. I also saw a rack for small weights and a workout bench.
On the other side of the room were a large comfortable sofa, a reclining chair, a small table and an impressive multimedia cabinet with all kinds of drawers and compartments. There was also a coffee machine and a small sink.
Caroline guided me to the sofa. I wanted simply to kiss her but instead I just sat looking quizzically.
"You must have to pee, she said, so why don't you relieve yourself and crawl back to me. The bathroom's through the door near the sink".
I did as she advised, clumsily wiping myself with my bound hands, and when I returned Caroline had unbuttoned her shirt to reveal a sexy white lace bra. She took my hand and started to speak softly.
"Jennifer, before you and I take this plunge", she said, heightening my tension and curiosity, "I want to go over a few things, a few basic guidelines for the weekend". She spoke hypnotically. "I want to do this right... I know you've been a bit smitten by me -- your eyes follow me everywhere I go at the office. And I've had my eye on you too... you're incredibly sexy and lovely and you're wasting yourself in a dead-end lesbian partnership-prison. You might as well get married to your typical male buffoon", she continued with more than a trace of bitterness. "I'm going to introduce you to something a little more exciting...but you have to trust me. It will get very very intense but you will not be hurt, there will be no permanent marks to defile your lovely body, and I'm not into bathroom humor, if you get my drift. You will speak only when spoken to from here on in, and address me by my name. I will call you whatever I want, whenever I want, and do with you whatever I want".
She leaned in and I was mesmerized into kissing her and holding her passionately. We broke from our clinch and she was smiling.
"Now, Jennifer, you'll show me that you accept these terms by lighting the dozen candles in our playroom". She unbound my hands and offered me a lighter. The room was already warmly and tastefully lit by several lamps, but the candles added a powerfully sensual and mysterious ambience. I "signed" the contract on the dotted line, so to speak.
"Kneel", she commanded. I obeyed.
"Lick the heel and sole of my boot, slowly".
I bent my head and turned it sideways and very slowly ran my tongue along the underside of her footwear, tasting the grit of country soil.
"Would you like me to spit on your face, slut?"
I gulped and nodded slightly, unable to speak. She spat on my cheek.
"Did you like that?"
I nodded, being quite honest, as the spittle sent a thrill down my spine.
"You obviously like being slapped...do you want me to slap you again?"
I nodded again.
"What do you say?"
"Please".
"Please what?"
"Please ... slap me", I stammered.
She complied by stinging me on the very cheek she had spat on. I could feel the burn of her handprint.
"What do you say?"
"Thank you".
She slapped my other cheek harder, this time using the back of her hand.
"Thank you, what?"
"Thank you, Caroline".
"Very good".
My whole body was tingling as I kissed the hand she brought to my mouth, the hand that had just slapped me, and my breathing and pulse were quickening.
She kissed me tenderly on the lips and I melted, and before I knew it everything went dark: Caroline had blindfolded me.
At that very instant I was literally seized by an overwhelming and desperate desire to be used -- to be Caroline's complete and total slave, to be slapped and pinched and whipped and bound and fucked and handled and spat on and humiliated simply according to her whim. I was willing to do anything she asked of me except shed blood. Where had this all come from? I still don't know the answer, except to say that whatever its origins the sense of indescribably exhilarating liberation in submission is beyond my abilities to convey: it's total and absolutely breathtakingly wonderful.
"Let's see if you can earn your collar, bitch", hissed Caroline as she yanked me to my feet.
I was in the dark in more ways than one... Every step became an adventure, every sound a source of concern. I was eventually guided to the padded workout bench -- I could tell by its reclining back.
"Raise your arms above your head and sit absolutely still".
I complied willingly and felt my wrists being cuffed with what I guessed was some kind of padded leather, and then somehow fastened by a chain to the back of the bench. My chest was exposed and vulnerable, even though I still had on my flimsy bra. The same kinds of cuffs were placed on my ankles. My thighs were spread widely and my feet brought around the sides of the bench and fastened underneath to its supports. My ass was perched on the very edge of the seat and my pussy pushed up and open, utterly at Caroline's mercy unprotected by the thin fabric of my panties.
Caroline lifted my head slightly off the bench and gathered up my hair and I felt a strap of some sort just above my ears.
"Open your mouth", she commanded, and I obeyed, and a round solid plastic ball was affixed.
"I want to make sure your sense of helplessness is complete, Jennifer. I really don't need to silence you -- no-one would hear anything around here. But I do want you to know the feeling that you simply can't cry for help, that you are totally dependent on my mercies and whims".
The ball-gag filled my mouth but had an air-hole allowing me to exhale through it, and I could feel Caroline grabbing onto it from the front as if there were something attached to it, something that allowed her to handle it.
There was silence....
"Lie there for a while and get used to being my ... my prey. Now try to move".
I squirmed a little and wiggled but I was securely bound to the bench, unable to close my legs or cover my breasts.
:Now, shout for me, bitch".
A barely audible and muffled `unnhh' was all that escaped.
Caroline shocked me when I felt her hands quickly unclasp my bra from behind and then felt her raise the bra up over my head and all the way to my wrists.
What delectable morsels, she said, before gently kissing and sucking on each rock-hard nipple sending a jolt of lust down to my pussy.
The first sharp clamp on my left nipple made me cry out reflexively, and then I figured out what was on the ball-gag -- a small ring -- because I could hear Caroline thread a chain through it before she clamped my right nipple. It hurt and thrilled me and I squirmed and started breathing heavily. Caroline pulled on the chain causing me to shriek in pain, and then tightened it so that my head was pulled forward as far as it could go, and still my nipples were being stretched and pulled mercilessly.
I guess I had an idea about what was coming next, mainly because I occasionally rented an all-girl bondage video. Only I just couldn't believe that this was really happening to me and I grew sincerely afraid. My smooth-shaven pussy was my pride and joy... And it was now utterly out of my power to protect. It was soaking wet with my lust, and when Caroline placed the palm of her hand on my cunt my hips bucked upwards a bit out of the sheer shock. Yet her hand felt so very comforting and when she kissed my pussy lips through my panties I was almost delirious. I yearned for her to make me cum, to give me release, even though I realized it was far too early to be rewarded.
Caroline literally tore my panties off suddenly and my pussy gushed with the excitement -- I was aroused beyond belief. Then the clamps... On either lip... and the chain threaded up through my gag, taut, pulling fiercely on my cunt despite my leaning forward as far as possible.
"Have you ever been punished before, Jennifer?"
I could hardly do anything but snort in response.
"We all need to be punished for something, don't we? Let's see, why don't I punish you for betraying your girlfriend so cavalierly?"
I was breathless with fear and effort and excitement -- it seemed as if every bit of my body was aflame, alive... I could feel the warm stream of drool that snaked down between my breasts, over my flat tummy and all the way to my pussy and the cleft between my thigh and cunt.
The first blow of Caroline's crop landed right on my drool-moistened mons and I instinctively reared backward, only to send sharp agonizing piercing pain to my nipples and cunt lips. Oh god it hurt so much!!! Yet I also knew I deserved it somehow -- why else would I become aroused by pain unless I were an utterly depraved slutty whore?
"That's my little bitch", purred Caroline. "Now nod if you'd like me to use the crop long and hard on your tender sexy skin".
To my utter disbelief, I nodded....
Caroline was merciless, aiming and landing blows on my stomach, flanks, inner and outer thighs, even on my clamped nipples, and try as I might I couldn't stop my reflexes to arch backwards, thus increasing the pain many times. But it was glorious somehow...and I noticed that Caroline had left my poor pussy untouched, and strangely, in between her stinging smacks I found myself yearning for my neglected cunt to be whipped. I yelped and whimpered and caught my breath and Caroline paced her rhythm for maximum surprise, nearly always catching me off guard. I heard the whistle of the crop too late to tense myself in protection.
She brought the crop down harder and harder on my inner thighs, making my legs spread wider and lifting my ass off the bench, and then -- then she brought it down hard and fierce on my cunt, clamps and all, and I thought I would pass out...She mercifully slipped the clamps off my pussy and nipples -- but this hurt almost as much as yanking on the clamps did. And when I finally caught my breath she went to work on my naked poor exposed vulnerable burning sopping pussy. She continually modified the intensity and rhythm of her strokes and I felt myself surging with an incipient orgasm, only to have an incredibly vicious smack on my cunt cut it short with unbearable pain... My my my... even now as I write I'm breathless.
"Good girl", said Caroline, finally. "Sarah isn't the only one who's pussy-whipped you".
I lay in a delicious dreamy sort of languor. Never had I felt so alive, all of my senses on high alert, and never had I felt such gratitude and lust mixed together. Caroline removed the gag and kissed me lovingly on my mouth and I returned her kisses, taking great comfort in knowing that I was pleasing her and more -- that I was really turning her on.
"Thank you", I whispered dreamily.
"Are you my slut, Jennifer?"
"Yes, Caroline."
"Say it for me please, say `I am Caroline's slut'".
"I am Caroline's slut".
"Are you my bitch?"
"I am Caroline's bitch".
"Are you my whore?"
"I am Caroline's whore".
"Are you my cunt?"
"I am Caroline's cunt".
"Louder".
"I am Caroline's cunt".
"Louder, cunt!"
"I AM CAROLINE'S FUCKING WHORE-CUNT! I AM CAROLINE'S FUCKING CUNT! I AM CAROLINE'S CUNT!!!" I spat my shouted words with abandon, exulting.
"If you're lucky you may also become Caroline's lover".
I found myself being freed from the bench and helped to my feet. The entire front of my body was tingling. Caroline removed the blindfold and there I was, standing in front of the wall-mirror. The room was lit only by candlelight and the effect was eerie and beautiful. I could see my lovely slender sexy body, my deliciously abused body in the mirror, gleaming with sweat and drool, my hair again in Caroline's firm grasp. I looked like a wild and wonderful animal: I fascinated myself and was fascinated with Caroline, who looked so incredibly sexy and strong in just her black thong and cowboy boots. Her taut gymnast's body was so enticing, and I was proud to be her plaything ... How strange this all was? It all seemed so perfectly natural, all of this sadistic perversity, all of my masochism... But was it truly sadistic, or truly masochistic? The pain was unlike any other pain I've ever experienced -- spraining your ankle or falling off a bike onto an asphalt street, now that's real pain. The pain Caroline introduced was very very different: it was erotic and deeply satisfying and explosively arousing.
"You look lovely, Jennifer", said Caroline, admiring her new handiwork. "And so sexy in those clogs -- I love them, I love the way they accentuate your strong legs and gorgeous butt. Speaking of which ... Your backside has had hardly any attention so far".
I swallowed hard, not believing she would use me further this evening.
Silently she led me to the pommel horse. She attached my wrist cuffs to each of the grips on the top, and my ankle cuffs to the supports at either end on the bottom of this piece of gymnastic equipment. I was barely visible as I faced the mirror in the dim candlelight.
Caroline walked away and returned with a whip: it struck fear into my heart. It's tendrils were long and menacing.
"Trust me, Jennifer". Her voice was both authoritative and reassuring.
"Yes, Caroline", I said dreamily, "I trust you completely". Caroline was a blurry and shadowy figure in the mirror as the first blow of the whip landed on my buttocks, stinging me beyond imagination. My ass was on fire.
"Arch your back, like the fucking whore you are".
The next blow, equally hard, lashed my upper back and I cried out.
"Scream all you want, darling", said Caroline casually.
And scream I did. She was masterful in her lustful cruelty, lash after lash striking my poor young charged flesh from my neck to my heels. She stopped suddenly, allowing me to catch my breath.
"Have you screamed enough, bitch?"
"Yes, I heaved, yes Caroline".
"Good...."
A minute went by...I thought she had stopped, finally.
Instead, Caroline said with pique, "I'm waiting".
I didn't get it -- waiting? For what? Another minute went by in silence and the burning had begun to subside on my back and ass, and now I figured it out: I myself wanted more, was ready for more... I missed being flogged, crazy as it sounds.
"Please punish me more, Caroline, please whip me ... harder... Please...". I was now doing what Caroline had predicted -- begging for things I could never before have imagined I'd do in real life.
Caroline approached and whispered `good slut' in my ear, and then commenced to whip me with wild abandon. I squirmed and writhed in vain, I panted like a bitch in heat, and I thanked her after every powerful and well-placed stroke.
"Thank you, Caroline, thank you for whipping me, thank you for whipping your fucking cunt slut, thank you, thank you!"
I think it was the last of her two-handed strokes that broke me... I was held on my feet only by my wrist cuffs. I leaned back, my knees bent, breathing rapidly and Caroline artfully managed to land her final blow on my midriff, shocking me to attention.
When she returned, having left me to recover on my own and to gaze at my dim reflection in the mirror, she fastened and locked a ringed leather collar around my neck. I guess I had earned it.
I was in a delicious dark daze as Caroline guided me to my bed upstairs. She anointed my body with oils and balms and lay me down on the soft welcoming mattress. I needed to cum so badly, and I was waiting for my reward -- Caroline's expert lips on her slave's agonizingly deprived cunt. But instead Caroline coolly cuffed my wrists and ankles to the bedposts.
"I don't want you to touch yourself ...Cumming is a privilege requiring my permission. And from now on you will address me as Mistress."
And after the softest of soft kisses on my lips my gorgeous mistress quietly exited.
End of Part I. ... to be continued.
Comments welcome: jengurlez@yahoo.com