A Novice: My First BDSM Experience

This is my first attempt at writing erotic fiction and is based on a true experience of mine. Comments, critics and suggestions much appreciated.

------------------------------------

I approached the bar with some trepidation. Barring Date No 1 this was probably the only other time I had felt nervous before meeting someone. This was a different kind of nervous though, it was more apprehension. I realised I was actually really looking forward to this date, which was never a good idea. I liked approaching first dates as a casual opportunity to meet someone new. That way I was unfazed. I have friends who work themselves up before a date, thinking he could be the man of their dreams and therefore they need to make the best impression possible. I, on the other hand, have been on enough dates over the last three months to realise he is unlikely to be the man of my dreams and if he was, he would accept me, flaws and all. In all likelihood, this date won't make it past drink 2. I am brutal, this is true. But I don't want to waste my time, or theirs.

This time, however, it felt different. He had contacted me initially and I'd been intrigued by his profile. It listed the usual -- job (university professor), loved London (been here 9 years), wrong side of thirty (just) and enjoyed art galleries (not my scene). The two details that caught my eye, however, were his slightly more elaborate use of vocabulary (eschew, salacious, enthrallment) and his point about liking to be in control. I was intrigued.

His first message was fairly standard, but before long we got onto the conversation about sexual preferences. Perhaps preference was the wrong word in this case, it was more of a 'lifestyle' with him, as I was to learn later that evening. He asked me what I was like when I got a bit more serious with a guy. He said he could be very dominant in bed so it was important for him to be with a girl who has a submissive side. I replied with a quip about having to take control in most other aspects of my life so was happy with a guy to take control in the bedroom. I hadn't even met this guy and already he had me excited. The questions escalated to him asking me about my experience with 'kink' and I was honest and said I had very little but was open minded. Soon after, we arranged a drink. Tonight was that night.

As I approached the bar, he sent me a text letting me know he was sat on the terrace. The bar overlooked the river and as seems to be the trend in recent years, we were enjoying a sunny April. It was a lovely evening. I walked around to the side and saw him sitting there, drinking a glass of wine. He jumped up to greet me and poured me a glass. He did not ask me if wine was what I wanted which at some stage a few years ago might have annoyed me. But I was embracing spontaneity for the first time in my life. And I had realised there were many more important things to worry about in life than someone assuming I wanted a glass of wine as opposed to any other type of drink.

We chatted and drank wine as the sun slowly set behind one of the bridges. He was engaging and I found myself attracted to him although I have a feeling a lot of that was down to the fact he exuded confidence. He was not cocky but he seemed like a man in charge. He knew his place and his direction in life, a fact I find extremely attractive. After a couple of glasses of wine he brought up the topic of internet dating. Asked me why I did it and how I was finding it. I explained that I enjoyed meeting new people, I didn't like the types of guys that approached me in bars, and so far I had had a positive experience, despite not meeting anyone I really liked. Blah blah. His turn. He described how he liked the anonymity of it. He looked me square in the eye and said very slowly and deliberately -- 'You could come home with me tonight, and nobody would ever know'. Feeling emboldened by the wine I replied that I could. But I was unlikely to, having never slept with someone on a first date before, nor had a one night stand with someone I had met in a bar. He raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his wine. I took the opportunity to ask him about his reference in his profile to taking control. Therein began my first ever serious conversation about BDSM.

My first lesson was what it stood for; a sort-of acronym for Bondage/Discipline, Dominance/Submission, Sadomasochism. He talked about attending fetish clubs and enjoying anything which highlighted a disparity in power between two parties. He asked me if I had a submissive bone in my body but before I could respond, he looked me straight in the eye and told me he was going to kiss me. I felt totally under his command as he placed a firm hand behind my head and drew me into him. He kissed me hard, pushing his tongue without any trepidation into my mouth. It was like no first kiss I had ever experienced and I felt a stirring between my legs that told me I was very attracted to this man, and very turned on.

After far too short a kiss, he grabbed my hand, pulled me up off my chair and told me we were leaving. I didn't even question him as I grabbed my jacket and bag off the seat next to me. We walked along the river towards Tower Bridge to catch a cab back to his. At one point he grabbed both my hands, pushed me over to the wall lining the banks of the river and kissed me hard. He knocked the wind out of me as he grabbed my hair and titled my head backwards. He nibbled down my neck and I felt my legs turn to jelly.

'We'll make a good little sub out of you yet' he whispered almost menacingly in my ear. I then felt his hand move from my hair and travel down my check, across my chest and over my left breast. Before long I felt the coolness of his hand against the part of my stomach where my top met my jeans and he slowly slid his hand inside my trousers.

We were on one of the most popular stretches of pavement in London, connecting London Bridge with Tower Bridge and despite the fact it was gone 11pm there were still plenty of people milling around. His body shielded most of me from view so unless anyone took more than a passing glance, the fast walking Londoners and slower paced tourists would have remained oblivious. He flicked his finger over my clit in such an accomplished manner that I moaned softly into his mouth as he kissed me. I attempted to raise my hands to his face but with his free hand he gripped my wrists and pinned them to my side with surprising strength.

We continued kissing as his finger moved over my clit and he sucked and bit my bottom lip. Finally I was permitted to come up for air and as I gasped for breath he removed his hand from my trousers and grabbed my waist so I moved away from the wall. Before I knew what was happening, we were walking quickly back on the path towards Tower Bridge, climbing the steps and hailing a cab. In the taxi he did not touch me. He did not look at me. He engaged the taxi driver in meaningless conversation about some road closures on the north side of the river. I longed for him to reach out to me; to squeeze my leg, to take my hand. Nothing.

Upon reaching his place, we hopped out of the car, he settled the bill and proceeded to let me into his flat. It was a typical bachelor's pad; a large TV and speaker system and huge cityscape prints on the walls. What was out of the ordinary was the level of organisation. When he opened the cupboard in search of wine glasses I caught a glimpse of all the glasses lined up in rows by type and height. In the living room not a DVD or CD was out of space and from what I could tell, they were organised by genre, and then alphabetised. There was not a speck of dust on the black gloss furniture.

After carefully pouring two glasses of wine he picked them up and I followed him to his bedroom. He set about putting on some music and drawing the curtains. Even in his bedroom not a thing was out of place. He leaned against his desk, glass of wine in hand and ordered me to undress. Still he had not touched me since we moved away from the river.

I bent down to unzip my boots and discarded them next to his bed. I undid the jeans that he had been inside not twenty minutes ago and slid them down my legs. I pulled my top over my head and stood there in front of him in my underwear. He did not flinch. He showed no sign of appreciation or arousal and that immediately set me on edge. I felt slightly uncomfortable and longed for his reassurance. After I'd removed my underwear and my bra he ordered me to tidy the pile of clothes I had left at the foot of his bed. As I put my boots together and folded my jeans and blouse he moved behind me and placed a hand on the small of my back. I felt myself tremble at his touch but stood up straight and strong after I'd finished arranging my clothes.

'I realise this is your first time experimenting with this, so I will go gently' he whispered so softly against my neck. 'If you do not want me to do something or you are not enjoying it then tell me and I will stop'.

He indicated for me to lie on the bed and I did so. He quickly undressed, folding his clothes as he did and sporting a reasonable sized erection. As he kneeled over me, I opened my mouth and he slid his hard cock into my mouth. I was given no warning as he pushed it further into my mouth. I gagged slightly, surprised by the invasion into my throat. He was in total control, fucking my mouth. After a few minutes he withdrew but maintained his position over my face indicating for me to keep my mouth open. I did as I was told. He slowly dipped his balls into my mouth and I massaged them with my tongue. He did not make a sound. He did not touch me.

Climbing off me, he reached over to a book shelf and removed a condom from a small black lacquer box. He placed it on his cock and ordered me to turn over. There was no foreplay for me. He pulled me up onto my knees, my back towards him and slid his penis into me in one sharp movement. There was no tentativeness about his action and no checking that I was lubricated enough before he did it. A moan escaped my mouth and I quickly bit my lip to hold it back, unsure how much noise I would be permitted to make without punishment. He grabbed my hair in is hands in a ponytail and held it tight at the nape of my neck whilst he pounded into me. It was rough. It was relentless. It felt amazing.

When he went too deep I let out a small yelp and he responded my pulling my hair tighter towards him. The end result was me on all fours, one of his hands gripping my hip and one still holding my hair but pulling it back so my face was lifted towards the ceiling. I was his play thing and I had no control over my body or what he was doing to it. After he had cum, he slowly pulled out of me, letting my hair go in the process. I fell to the bed, face down, completely exhausted. After he had disposed of the condom he put back on a pair of boxers and joined me on the bed. He was the first to break the silence asking if he had been too rough with me. I answered honestly -- no he hadn't, I had enjoyed it, but worried if I'd be sore tomorrow. He explained that a good Dom was tough on his Sub, physically and mentally, but left no lasting scars on body or mind. He started to stroke my back and my hair which now fell loosely across it. It was an act which took me by surprise but I was relieved for the compassion it showed. I felt as if I had performed well enough to please him and when I realised this I questioned how he could have turned me from confident, high-powered city girl to submissive man-pleasing sex toy in just a few hours. I prayed I would have my fight back by tomorrow morning.

After half an hour of talking and stroking he jumped off the bed and walked over to the wardrobe on the other side of the room. He reached up and took a plastic storage box from the top of it and set it down on his desk. With a purposeful look he asked me if I was feeling brave. I nodded slowly. From the box he removed a long piece of thick brown rope and a smaller red box, only slightly bigger than a matchstick box. He brought them towards me and laid them on the bed. He explained that while a lot of couples experiment with restraints (fluffy handcuffs, silk ties etc), BDSM incorporated a lot of rope play. He expanded on this to talk about fetish clubs that he frequented where other Doms gave demonstrations of how to tie up their subs in ropes as it was as much about the tying and the knots involved as it was about the fact their partner was then restrained (or suspended as is sometimes the case). He asked if he could tie me. I agreed.

I admit it was very foolish of me to go back with someone I didn't know and agree for him to tie me up but I was intrigued and had always enjoyed the (very) occasional time that 'The Ex' and I tried something a little more adventurous in the bedroom. This man was introducing me to new things and pushing me to my sexual limits and I couldn't help but feel excited and very turned on by the sequence of events.

He motioned for me to move towards the middle of the bed and then asked for me to present my hands to him, wrists and palms together. I did so and he wrapped the middle of the rope tightly around my wrists. He then lay me back onto the bad and raised my hands above my head. From there the ends of the rope came down each arm, crossed over at the nape of my neck and then brought over each shoulder. They were then diagonally crossed over my body until each side reached my waist. The effect was an 'x' across my chest, separating my breasts. The rope was taken behind my back and crossed over again before each end was threaded through my open legs, wrapped once around the top of each thigh and each end held firmly in his grip.

He kissed me, hard. The first kiss I had been granted since we got in the taxi. As he drew away he bit my bottom lip, hard. When I raised my head off the pillow, looking for another kiss, he drew his head backwards, away from me, and looked at me intently. Deflated, I set my head back down and waited for his next move. He pulled the end of the rope tighter and I could feel the twine digging in to each of my upper thighs. It was not painful but it reminded me that I was at his mercy. After that he began kissing down my chest, very slowly, avoiding the rope that was stretched across it. When he got to each nipple he grazed them lightly with his teeth which sent shivers down me. As I tried to raise my bound hands from above my head to touch him, the rope prevented me. Sensing my frustration he kissed each nipple again, this time biting each one in turn. It was a sharp pain but brief; as soon as he released them it was gone and I craved the sensation once more.

He reached next to my ankle to recover the red matchstick box I had seen early and from it removed a silver chain with attachments of some kind on each end. It looked like an ornate piece of jewellery, a bracelet perhaps but before I could inspect further I was told to close my eyes. After I did so I felt a pinching on my left nipple and yelped in surprise and pain. He soothed me with a calm 'ssssshhhh' and explained that these were nipple clamps. After a few seconds the pain subsided although I could feel the 'clamp' still in place. I yelped once more when I felt the same pinch on my right nipple but attempted to suppress my cry by biting my lip. I felt the metal chain, cold against my skin, dangle down over the ropes and settle just above my belly button.

Without warning and with a tug at the rope ends, my legs were lifted over his shoulders. My eyes remained closed as I had not been told to open them and he entered me in one swift movement. Once inside, I felt his weight shift as if he were leaning forward and then felt the wetness of his tongue around my belly button. He permitted me to open my eyes at that point and I saw him lift up the chain attached to my nipple clamps with his mouth. As he pulled gently against it, a pleasurable pain shot through each one. As he pulled it harder I arched my back in a bid to diminish the hurt. I did not get away with this and he landed a hard slap on my thigh. I wanted to please him and yet at the same time enjoyed being reprimanded. The slap spurred me on and I craved his touch. After more spanks and tweaks of the chain dangling over my stomach he picked the ends of the rope up again, wrapped them around his wrists and used that control over my body to thrust his cock into me further. He powered into me, using the ropes to pull me closer towards him which each thrust. I was being used as his fuck thing and I loved it.

Has he came he dropped the ends of the rope and I felt its tightness around my whole body soften. After he'd had a few seconds to recover, he quickly untied me and I rubbed my wrists and thighs where the rope had been at its tightest. I clenched my teeth together as he released the clamps from my nipples and put the ornate piece of 'jewellery' back into its red box. He then went into the en-suite to freshen up, leaving me to muse over the course the night had taken.