A Guided Experience Ch. 02

This is Chapter 2 of "A Guided Experience". Mara's and Claude's journey unfolding and evolving. Please read "A Guided Experience" first, for full context and enjoyment of this installment.

Disclaimer about what to expect in Ch 02: BDSM light transitioning more into general erotic and romance.

Thank you for your continued interest in their story, I hope you enjoy.

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The next day at home, after my visit at the GoDD, I can hardly concentrate on anything. I pamper my somewhat aching body to replenish myself after yesterday's exertions. It isn't nearly as bad as I expected. My arms and back hurt a little from being stretched and restrained, and there's a good kind of ache between my legs, more related to the long lasting excitement and associated swelling and throbbing I experienced yesterday that has, let's face it, pretty much continued since then. There is also the delicious soreness of simply being the most sexually active I have been in years. My legs and groin muscles hurt from all the spreading, I feel like I've had an intense day at the gym or a day of horseback riding.

There are no injuries to my skin and the stinging soreness I briefly felt on my butt cheeks and my sex yesterday night after the flogging, is completely gone now. I know very little about these things, but I have a feeling Master Claude took it very easy on me, looking more to give me a taste of something rather than hurt or injure. I did specify in my questionnaire that even though I was intensely curious about some punishment, I was only willing to try a light version of it. Cataloguing the aftereffects on my body, I can't forget about how distracting the stinging fullness in my large nipples feels all night and into today. That part jolts me right back into the scenario with the pillar on the dais. Gods...Is this the same me, did I really do all this yesterday with a stranger? My mind constantly relives the experiences of the previous day and slowly, the overanalyzing starts to kick in, putting a dampening spin on the luscious, fresh memories.

Somehow, we managed to transgress and took the experience beyond what was planned within the confines of the GoDD. For better or worse, Pandora's box of complications has now been opened. All I can think about is seeing Master Claude again, but I'm actually not sure what the next step would be, and where do we go from here. I have no contact details for him and given his sadness and trepidation about exceeding the limits set out by the Club, I'm not sure if I'm welcome back there. While the shock value of all the firsts, the fantasies materialized, is fresh and buzzing in my mind, my focus has also changed from seeking more of that to just seeking...him. I regret nothing, but I'm not sure if having more of these kinky experiences is how I want to proceed. There seems to be a different priority now. The only thing my body and mind seem sure of, is that the craving I have for Master Claude is intense and won't be denied.

Jasmine said the place is strictly off limits when it comes to forming relationships, but I now fantasize about having access to Claude on my own terms. Probably NOT what the GoDD had in mind when it comes to awakening desires.

My mind also spins thinking about Jasmine. She said she's visited several times now, and I can't shake wondering who her Guide was, whether perhaps Master Claude, my Claude, was the one guiding my best friend in her lascivious journey as well? I hope with my whole being it wasn't him, as the beast of jealousy strangely raises its head within me. I scold myself, reviewing that Claude has probably "guided" countless other members in his role at the Club, and is likely actually guiding another protégé even now. That thought feeds the jealous beast inside and threatens to overwhelm me.

Being the overthinker I have always been, I also start spinning about any practical fallout and risks involved. I wasn't planning to have full on sex yesterday and although the Garden had many liability forms and safeguards outlined about STD protection, I feel anxiety about my health sprouting up. I breathe and carefully review all I read on the website - all tools and toys are sterilized between use to medical standards, and all staff are very regularly tested. I reassure myself things are ok in that domain, but just as I do that, another fear springs like a fountain in my mind. I'm actually shocked it's only now I'm considering this, I have always been nothing but pathologically cautious about these matters, but the truth that I just had repeated unprotected sex with a stranger, while not being on birth control, dawns on me with terrifying intensity.

This place was supposed to be controlled and safe. It probably still was, but we've gone and fucked it up on our own, exceeding the set out limits yesterday, without forethought or caution, both of us strangely possessed by the feral lust in the moment. Was this common with the patrons of the Garden? Did carefully planned encounters routinely devolve into completely wanton, come-what-may trysts? I try to make a plan to bring down my anxiety and decide I will get a pregnancy test within a week to get on top of any issues. It's going to be a torturous week of waiting.

Normally I'd reach out to Jas and dish with her about all this, but with all the secrecy and non disclosure discussed on the GoDD website, I really don't know where I stand with this. Then, there is the matter of my jealous mind feeding me disturbing and arousing visions of Master Claude possibly touching and maybe fucking my best friend. Were my fears to be confirmed, I'm not sure I'd survive it, and I realize, with a pang of horror, that our friendship surely wouldn't. What have I gotten myself into?

I check my email as a distraction and my heart skips as I see a cryptic email from "C":

It's Claude from yesterday here. I'm not supposed to be contacting you, but I have something important to pass on. Our members' comfort and peace of mind are of utmost importance. Please confirm if I can write you just one time, to put you at ease, and whether this mailbox is private.

I write back:

Hi...The mailbox is mine and mine only. How do I know it's really you?

I hit send and start thinking about what activity I should throw myself into before I go back to check email again, and before I manage to pry myself away from the computer, I see another message from C:

Are we really going to do this? Very well. There is a row of three brown dots spaced out in a diagonal line on your inner left thigh, running parallel to your hot, wet opening...and then, there's the delicious little brown mole crowning your mound and guarding the cleft near your clit, like a little kiss on the very top of the left fleshy lip, that haunts my memories. Should I go on? I trust no one but perhaps your doctor would have seen these details. Are you satisfied, ma chère?

My mouth goes dry and heat rises between my legs. Damn. He's had a front seat view of these details for hours, and evidently committed my intimate landscape to his memory. He writes haunts...is he as mired in craving and need as I am? I feel flattered and self-conscious at the same time.

My heart racing, I type:

Satisfied? No, Sir. That state has eluded me since we parted ways, I'm afraid. I trust it is you now, however. What is your message?

This time it takes longer. I decide to go grab a glass of water and tidy up the kitchen a little bit. When I come back, another message is waiting for me:

Ma chère, I am ashamed I broke so many rules and boundaries at our meeting. This should not have happened. Your profile clearly stated no intercourse on first session and thus all limits and safeguards were not properly negotiated. Moreover, I was too incoherent and overcome with raw lust to at least address it in the moment. I compromised The Garden's integrity and your safety and comfort, which is inexcusable. The STD question was well discussed ahead of time and I trust you feel safe on that matter, however, we used no protection in the heat of the moment and I can only imagine your growing anxiety about pregnancy. Rest assured, ma chère, you are quite safe and the only excuse for my lack of taking precautions is that I have always been well aware of that. I should have, however, shared this with you or reminded you about choosing what you'd prefer. I hate myself for how I let things devolve.

On to the matter - I shoot blanks. I've had a vasectomy years ago and there is no risk of me siring a child at this time. I hope this puts you at ease ma chère. My apologies for the stress unduly caused. C.

A wave of relief and wild excitement rushes over me.

I type:

Wow. Thank you. I appreciate the information more than you can imagine. Thank you...for everything. How do I see you again, please?

I try my best to keep my fevered desperation to a minimum in the email. I hit send before I chicken out. I wait by the computer for what ends up being an hour, but no response arrives. Claude has gone silent.

While I'm incredibly frustrated he is choosing to be difficult about reuniting us, I do appreciate him reaching out with the reassuring information. From what I've already learned about Master Claude, I know it could not have been easy for him to do this. He was forced once again to bend and violate his strong commitment to the rules of the Garden in making this sacrifice for me. Its sweet and endearing, and demonstrates the high value he seems to place on transparency and sharing pertinent information.

Over the next few days, I check obsessively for a reply, but there still is none. Whether it's because he's a rule follower and enforcer by nature, or perhaps due to other reasons, Claude seems to have decided to cut off our communication.

We apparently broke the Matrix. We've broken the strict protocol of the Club, which has clearly created some moral distress for Master Claude. Part of me feels naughtily culpable and guilty, but I have no real regrets. I'd do it all again in a heartbeat, although it has apparently already made things very messy. What does torture me, is that we, or I, have managed to fuck things up, no pun intended, to the point where the strict rules about no relationships and keeping the visit as a solely physical experience, have gone out the window.

I'm no spring chicken, but in true spring chicken fashion, I seem to have fallen hard for my Guide, in the span of one visit. No wait, I think it happened in the span of less than a few hours during our encounter. I need to see him again, but I have no roadmap for what happens now and a small part of me screams for me to cut my losses and not pursue this further. A larger, much bolder part, is driven by the obsessive hold Claude has over me since our meeting. I think of him every waking minute, which has made real life and concentrating on regular errands quite challenging. I dream of the man when I'm asleep as he's obviously taken over my imagination. I crave us together. There doesn't seem to be a way for me to track him down or meet beyond the confines of the damn Club for now, he refuses to answer my email, and so I decide I have to try to schedule another meeting through the GoDD.

I log on and with the many factor identification complete, I finally reach the electronic gateway to The Garden of Dark Delights. I fill out the extensive survey provided to evaluate my first visit. I'm careful not to get him in trouble in any way and I give the best ratings and highest praise possible for my first experience and for my Guide.

Were all your boundaries completely respected during the encounter?

Of course. Except a bunch I begged him to ignore to appease the raw lust and undeniable connection I felt that day. Somehow, he achingly and reluctantly ended up indulging me, transgressing boldly beyond the limits laid out in the meticulous profile and contract I have on file with The Garden. Seemingly against his better judgment, he threw his iron clad caution to the wind and fucked me with wild abandon. The joy and gratitude I feel about that is ecstatic, like a kid who has opened the most awesome Christmas present. All this, of course, goes unreported.

Which part(s) of the experience was / were the most standout highlights for you?

Um, when my Guide fucked me so hard with his delicious cock, that I had the absolute best two orgasms of my life? When he filled me so completely in such a perfect fit that I melted into him with every delectable thrust? When I felt his hot cum, flooding my insides in another erotic first for me?

I censor my thoughts heavily and stick to activities that were clearly built in to the planned session. They even have handy checkboxes of activities generated by the initial questionnaire, and so I tick off:

[]flogger-whipping

and

[]flogger handle - penetration

My lips curl in a devilish smile and heat floods me from my sex upwards, as I recall the vignettes from yesterday featuring those implements. I make a clear request to be matched with the same Guide, or bust. I'm not sure this can be accommodated, but I clearly state I will not book the session if it cannot. I ask for confirmation of approval for my request, and make the payment.

I wake the next day to the delightful news that my session is approved as requested for the coming Saturday. Relief, impatience and excitement mingle to dominate my emotional landscape for three more days.

* * * * *

The map guides me in an entirely different direction from the parking lot than last week. This time there were extra instructions regarding preparing for the encounter, and I recognize the source of this part of the game traces back to all the kinky fodder describing my fantasies that I provided in that initial, thorough questionnaire. I play along, despite feeling frustrated and a bit annoyed with it all. I'm hoping this is a chance to reconnect with Claude and not so much delve deeper into my carnal explorations. I'm not sure if both are compatible now, given how things are evolving, but I can't deny that a part of me also thinks there might not be anything wrong with another small side dish of exploration, if it manages to fit alongside the more serious conversations he and I need to have. The map does its trick and I'm completely spun around by now and unsure of my location. As if that was just the prerequisite that magically tips off the Garden to reveal its next location, I look up to see a small, charming cottage materialize in front of me.

I take a deep breath and walk in. The inside of the villa doesn't match the outside; the interior is modern and spacious, following an open concept design. There is lush black leather lounge furniture arranged around the room. Soft lighting mimicking candlelight completes the scene.

"Hello?" I call out gently.

I am quite alone for a long while as I tentatively walk around the space. Then, the object of my desire emerges slowly from one of the doorways to another room. Master Claude wears those black leather pants again, and he is shirtless already, the vision of his chiselled chest making me instantly weak in the knees. It's not just his chest doing that. My lips part and I moan taking in his hair, his face, those magnetic eyes and the tightness of his pants...Damn. Having a sober, serious conversation juuust got about 16 levels harder.

"You are here, ma petite..." He says huskily, and I detect a tinge of relief and gratitude in his tone. He was thinking I would chicken out? He was hoping I would show up? That makes me think that he's both utterly clueless about how completely he has enchanted me, and just maybe, feeling some of the same excitement and relief I feel about our meeting. As if staying away was even an option!

"...of course I'm here. I've been aching for this moment since we parted ways. I had to come. You...you didn't respond to my last email...and I wasn't even sure I could book another visit, or that you'd willingly show up..." I give a weak smile.

His face softens. He moves to sit on the leather sofa and pats the space next to him:

"Evidently, I too had no other option than to show up...Come sit with me, ma chère."

I don't need another invitation and I quickly settle myself beside him.

"I...I....." Gods, I'm rendered speechless. I get up and literally move a few feet over before I sit down again, further away from him. The heat and sexual energy coming off his body threatens to undo me otherwise. He cocks his eyebrow at me and I look away.

"Don't like sitting beside me?"

"I like it way too much, and that's the problem. I need to talk to you, Sir, and if I am to have any chance at a coherent conversation, well, I can't sit that close to you..." I sigh with exasperation, maintaining my gaze on the other side of the room, suddenly interested in the wallpaper patterns, while I squirm, readjusting and rubbing my legs together.

He grunts playfully and follows that with:

"...because? Tell me, what happens, ma petite, when you sit right next to me?"

"Sir, you know full well. I can feel your heat on my skin and it enflames my body and mind. Frankly, all I can think of right now, is you on top of me, thrusting hard into me, aaand that's not super conducive to us having any type of serious conversation at the moment..."

He groans. I scoot further away on the leather sofa and start deep breathing exercises to get a hold of myself. I think he's shocked by the evidence of how much his mere presence affects me, and so he drops the teasing and is silent for a while, giving me some space.

"I have so many questions, " I begin.

"I couldn't stay away and I won't be able to going forward. I'm no longer content to be a member, patron, whatever you call it, of this place and hope that as a side dish to my visit I'll get to be with you. I want to try to be with you out there, in the real world. Is there any chance, that you would agree to take this outside of The Garden and give us a chance to see if we can be something...real? If you refuse, I'm not staying today."

"Look at who's calling the shots now. Are you threatening me? Is this your...ultimatum?" His steeled, dominant voice kicks in.

"No, Sir! I'm just being honest. It will destroy me to get deeper into this if all you can offer are physical experience sessions in The Garden. Something has happened, for better or worse between us, and I can't separate the pleasure from the emotions anymore. I know this is crazy, after one visit... but...I think you maybe feel some of this too?"

We sit in silence for a little while. Then, he finally speaks:

"You feel like this, ma petite, not because of me, but because of what we did together. Because of what I delivered to you in terms of experience and new pleasure. Had it been Master Luc or Master Sean for your first visit, you'd have the same reaction towards them now. A week ago, you had the rare opportunity to physically experience some of your longest held fantasies, which might have never materialized for you otherwise. Those were some pretty intense sensory experiences. It is normal to have these strong emotions, ma chère, but I think you confuse their source and object."

I reflect on what he says.

"You make an excellent point, Sir, and I'm a fish out of water with no experience with things like these, but I genuinely think this is not the case. It is about you. There's an undeniable connection..."

I trail off looking up into his eyes and before I know it we are sitting side by side. That's some Matrixy shit right there, I think in shock, as I'm seriously unable to recall who moved and when to have us back next to each other again. I lift my hand and very tentatively run it across his amazing chest. He looks at me warmly and a bit sadly, and lifts a hand to stroke my cheek. I arch up and reach my mouth towards him, he leans down and we kiss. Warm and electric, he starts out gentle and quickly loses it, as our kiss becomes ravenous. I feel warmth and tightness gathering between my thighs, and my heart rate climbs exponentially.