tagBDSMBougeotte

Bougeotte

byjouet©

A constant hunger...an ache....a wanting.....a craving....

It sounds so dramatic, doesn't it? Dramatic to me, as I am the one going through it. Me...A wife, doting mother, a 41 year old woman...simply past this kind of thing.

There are a hundred men on the website that I could have, any one of them would cream their pants if I would give them the time of day. The only man whose affection I want, doesn't want me. A cruel twist of fate.

He was mine for awhile. I had his full attention. He pursued me...ravished me...ruined me.

What upsets me the most is that I wasn't looking for anyone. I was basically content and happy with what I had. The website was a game, something to pass the hours of the day. I didn't want to feel the way I do now...pathetic and strung out.

I am an intelligent woman, realistic and grounded. If you would have told me a year ago that I would be addicted to a man who I met online, I would have told you that you were insane.

How could this happen to me? Ahhh, but it did happen. It crept up on me, like a devilish little kitten to a play toy. Except, I was the play toy....and I was captured, feeling confused, helpless and in his thrall.

But I am ahead of myself...let me back up and tell you how it all began...

*************

"Poor Petite, the pathetic attempts of seduction....

What's a girl to do?"

That was the beginning of the journey....the day I see in my mind so clearly.

I was in the chat room, as was the usual those days...wearing my black lace cami and black thong, my push up bra underneath revealing my creamy white breasts. Long flowing blond ponytail cascading down my left shoulder.

Yes...I knew how to work it.

Working from home, it gave me ample opportunity to fool around in the chat room. It was a much needed break from the monotony of my job.

Unfortunately, most of the time, it was more of the same, dull conversation....men ogling at me, calling out for me to 'Show my tits' and 'What size cup are you, Petite?' Yawn.

I humored them a little, when it suited me. I always felt like I was the one in control, and I was. Just going through the motions, there I sat on display, waiting for something to happen. Everyone else seemed to having a good time. Why wasn't I?

One of the guys called out, "Hey Petite, let the girls out!" I shuddered, and was ready to lash out, as I hear that comment ad nauseam. He seemed harmless, so I was kind. "I've never heard that one before," I sarcastically replied.

That's when it happened. The day that I discovered myself, a part of me, unknown.

How was I unaware of my deepest desires...to submit? It all made sense somehow. Over the years, I had often wondered why I wasn't as interested in having sex as I thought I "should" be.

I had a glimpse of it, in my twenties. A guy I was dating was a Dom in the making....we were in the living room, kissing on the floor. He had removed my belt, put my hands over my head and tied them together. I was intrigued. After a few minutes I had moved my hands, when he said sternly, "Did I tell you that you could move?!" I could feel my eyes blazing...and never forgot how that made me feel, but I couldn't identify it. I tried to explain it to one of my girlfriends, and she had looked at me, baffled. That was it. Never to be felt again....until now.

"Poor Petite, the pathetic attempts of seduction...."

Confused, I didn't know how to respond. He definitely had my full attention. Was he playfully teasing or making fun of me? I can still remember turning around in my seat, my eyes transfixed on the computer screen, trying to figure him out.

I responded to him, and we started to chat. "You look delectable." He was describing me as something delicious....to eat. I was mesmerized.

"You're bad," I teased.

"I am," he replied. "Fortunately, you like it." He had me there.

"You're right, I love a man with wit."

"Well, wit do you want me to do about it?" he teased.

"LMAO," I said, audibly giggling like a little girl.

"That would be a shame. It's one of your best features," he said. Though I couldn't see him, I could almost imagine the devilish grin on his face.

"No cam?" I asked him, curiously.

"I don't own one." His answers were intriguing. Never on the defensive, never trying to explain. He seemed extremely sure of himself, not cocky, just confident. And incredibly sexy....the eroticism just oozing out of his pores.

"Still working, petite?" he asked.

"Yes, I have a ton of work ahead of me."

"Well, message me if it all gets too much for you," he said, sounding semi-interested. Not wasting any time, I opened up a private chat box.

"Hello," I said, tentatively.

"Good Evening." he replied. Good evening? Who says good evening? A vampire, before his next kill. How appropriate, I would soon learn. God, I'm in trouble.

"So, what is someone like you doing on here?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked innocently, although I already knew what he was getting at.

"You're attractive, much smarter than most of the women on here."

"Long story," I sighed, not wanting to get into now.

"You're here," I teased him questioningly.

"Yes, well, I am a man and horribly perverted."

"What's your name?" he asked me. I never gave out my real name when asked.

"Jen," I said without hesitation, incredulous at his ability to extract information from me. His name was Michael. He was 28, and lived in London.

Formal introductions complete, he took the reins of the conversation... "Do you like to be Dominant or submissive in bed?" he asked.

"Maybe both," I replied. I really had no idea what I liked, it was pretty pathetic. "What turns you on?"

"Control, power, dominance," he said. Then he peppered me with questions.

Have I ever been spanked?

Whipped?

Caned?

I could only say yes to the first one. I was fascinated with him, and the fact that he was so much more sexually experienced than I. He was only 28...how could he be more experienced than me...? I was so naive.

I had to go, as my husband was coming home soon. Our conversation was delightful, and I felt very relaxed and in control. A crafty fisherman, he cast out the line for me to swim about freely. I hadn't realized his hook was already embedded in my back.

We met up again days later in chat. He asked me if I ever had sex fully clothed in public. "No," I replied softly. I felt really inadequate, as I had never done anything remotely like that.

"If we were to meet, where would you like to meet me, in a museum or restaurant?" he asked.

"Museum, definitely," I replied.

"Your favorite artist?" "Seurat," I replied, curiously wondering where this was going.

He then asked, "What will you be wearing? How will I know it's you?" I told him I would be wearing a black mini skirt, teal colored blouse, thigh high black stockings, black stilettos and a thong. "No thong," he corrected me. I realized we weren't just discussing fashion sense. It was BDSM 101 and class had begun - undeniable access clearly inferred.

"How will you do your hair?" he asked, leaving no stone unturned.

"I'll put it up in a loose knot."

"Ok, I walk in, and see you sitting on a bench, gazing at the Seurat," he started the dance. "I come up behind you, gently stroke the back of your neck, put my fingers in your hair, and loosen the knot..your hair undone."

"I tremble at your touch, and can't help the soft moan that escapes my lips," I exhaled softly.

"Shhh," he chided. "Someone might hear you....whisper to me in the gallery."

We started role-playing. I had no trouble following his lead. It felt so natural to me, honestly. My face and chest were flushed, my pussy tingling.

"I want you," I said breathlessly.

"Beg me, and I'll consider it," he stated flatly.

"Please...." I mewed, my breathing becoming more labored.

"On your knees and show me." Oh.... my... God... My heart hit the floor, and split in two on that one.

"I get on my knees...... and look up at you," I said gingerly, my voice thick with desire.

"What do your eyes say?" he whispered.

"Master," I cried helplessly.

That was the pivotal point. I knew this was unlike anything I have every felt, but it was inside me, innate.

"I'm going to ravish you," I gasped lustily.

"I'm going to ruin you," he replied.

My heart, on the floor and split, was now smashed and strewn in pieces, he the victor.

We continued chatting until he was ready to cum.....and he came, hard.

I started to tell him how I was kissing his face, how I wished I was there with him.

Click.

He was gone. I was confused. What? Did he just click off, without a word...no goodbye....?! Yes, he did....that bastard!

He was in control and I wasn't. He had me exactly where he wanted me. I sat there, dazed, staring at the blank computer screen, like someone right after a seizure, in postictal state.

My mind frazzled, all I knew at that point was that he made me feel totally erotic, wild....completely unglued.

The seasoned fisherman reels in the line tight, the wide eyed, gentle fish writhing and squirming, with no hope for escape.

****************

By the next week, I was in Victoria's Secret...searching for the satin lingerie he wanted me to buy, feeding one of his fetishes. I found the perfect baby doll, hot pink satin, with some off white lace framing the top and edging the bottom....my pink nipples, erect and ample in size, standing out nicely. I couldn't wait for him to see me.

I sat down in the comfy, oversized, white chair in my bedroom, and got on the website, practically salivating. "Nervous?" he asked.

"Why do you say that?" I asked, unable to stop wringing my hands together.

"You have a few tells. You look good......good enough to fuck." he mused. "Did you buy that for me?"

"Yes," I said blushing, already wet.

"Do you think you look hot?" he asked, baiting me.

"I don't know, maybe...satin is very unforgiving."

"What do you mean unforgiving?" he asked.

"My body," I mumbled, looking down.

"And just what is wrong with your body?" he asked, pulling teeth to get the answer.

"Let's talk about you," I pleaded.

"Oh no, we are going to get to the bottom of this."

"I don't have a model's figure, you know," I said timidly, wishing I could escape this line of questioning.

"Pretty damn close," he said. "You do look hot, by the way. If I was there you'd already have my cream all over that pink baby doll."

My eyes fluttered, in complete intoxication.

I had to go, as my husband was in the house, and almost coming up the stairs. I hurriedly gave him my private email, which I had never given out before. I was on fire, my hands..shaking.

Two days later, I see a message in my inbox.....

Subject line- "Want more?"

*************

He emailed me.....! I let out a deep sigh of relief and felt my cheeks flame. I was like a schoolgirl again, feeling those long forgotten memories of my first crush...love reciprocated.

Only this was not love, just pure unadulterated lust. But better this time around, knowing what I know now.

I now had another connection to him, and it felt fantastic. What worried me though, was just how strongly I felt for him, almost a complete stranger. It was my practical side trying to warn me, the proverbial red flag. I knew I was in dangerous waters. Stubbornly or rather stupidly, I swam past the buoy. Already quite intoxicated by him, the pull was too intense to stay away.

The email said only....Log onto chat. I log on, and find him quickly. He asks me if I'm nervous. "You always make me nervous," I gushed.

"Are you wet?" he asks curiously.

"Yes," I whispered timidly.

"Wet your finger," he tells me. Naively I put my finger in my mouth. "Not there!" he corrects me.

"Oh," I said, feeling sheepish. I place my fingers in my pussy, already soaking wet.

"Taste yourself, and tell me what you taste like," he said.

I put my fingers up to my lips, slowly brushing them back and forth, so he could watch. "I taste... sweet," I offered uneasily.

"What else?" he said.

This is where he always left me dumbfounded...I didn't know what else to say. No, correct that. I did know what to say, but that fact that he wanted me to admit it was so distressing and erotic at the same time. It was such a turn on, that he completely lead the interaction and knew exactly where to take me. "I don't know, help me." I cried.

He laughed. Though I sensed like he enjoyed my lack of expertise in this area...it gave him more of an edge.

We both had to go, saying that we will meet up tomorrow and said good-night. I logged back on to the email, and responded to the initial question. "You always leave me wanting more."

The next day, another email for me.

"I won't be on chat today. I might be on tomorrow. Tempt me."

*************

The rush of emotions ran through me, erotic flashes mixed with panic. Oh God, how was I going to tempt him? I started researching the net, trying to figure out a way to get his attention. The stakes were higher now, and I had to think of something captivating.

Suddenly, I thought of something...A story...an erotic one. Never having written anything before, much less something like this, I combed the erotic stories on a few sites.

I started writing...amazingly, it wasn't that difficult. With him as the inspiration, the words tumbled out quickly onto the page.....

~~ If I may......(eyes lowered) Master.....

I want to ask you if we can meet again...this time, somewhere different.

I can't stop thinking about you...at work, in bed.. you make me feel so nervous, yet so aroused at the same time.

Can we meet in a small club..somewhere dark and semi private...? I will be waiting for you....just got off work...I will be wearing my black satin blouse ..it's a little tight..my nipples are pressing against the fabric, starting to tingle.... and my mini skirt with the thigh high black shiny boots. I'm not wearing any panties underneath, just the garter belt like you instructed.

I arrive at the club, order a drink..and gulp it down..feeling a little dizzy with anticipation.

I feel wet... juices are forming around my pussy hole and lips..just thinking about you.

You walk in...looking so dark and mysterious...gorgeous. and you see me... I turn away- my face is hot..eyes averted. But I turn to look at you again...mesmerized by your penetrating stare. Can't turn away now...you have me.

You slowly walk toward me, ...I notice you have a bag with you...toys?

You sit down, next to me and......~~

Nervously, I closed my eyes and pressed SEND. Huge waves of regret, shame and confusion overtook me...will he like it? Or is this so juvenile?

The next morning, I quickly crept down the stairs and made my way to the computer, shaking.

I open my inbox....one message...oh, he responded! I cautiously open the email, eyes half shut, afraid to look.

One word.

"More."

**************

The rollercoaster car crawled to the peak, inch by painstaking inch, then scorched down the treacherous track at warp speed, my hands knuckle-white, holding onto the bar for dear life. That is the only way I can describe the raw emotions that churned inside me every time I opened his emails. Exhilarated, frightened, inflamed... He was such a mystery, just replying with one word. Did he like the story? I thought so, but wasn't quite sure. He was also demanding to see more, making me feel completely overwhelmed.

I didn't reply right away, as I needed time to process this. After a few hours went by, an email arrived from him.

"Tell me more."

M

XXX

This was interesting. He was basically telling me the same thing, but softer now, with kisses. That was all I needed.

I started writing furiously, and sent him exactly what he wanted... more.

~~ Your eyes slowly climb up my body, and lock into mine. My body shivers in response. Your eyes are dark and smoldering with heat and intensity. You lean over and whisper softly in my ear, "exquisite." I can feel your lips ever so lightly brushing against my neck. My nipples are standing erect against my blouse, and I notice your eyes going up and down my body, drinking me in. I'm paralyzed.

My blouse is tight and has gaps between the smooth buttons, causing my breasts to be slightly exposed. I notice other men at the bar staring at me with a smile across their lips. This pleases you that I have everyone's attention but I belong to you.

"Have you been a good girl this week?" you murmur in my ear. You slowly brush your hand against my nipples, which make them stand out more. I can barely speak, my pussy is throbbing with desire for you. I glance down and can see you harden underneath your trousers.

I have such an urge to touch you, but wait, until you give me permission. You see my gaze and know exactly what I am thinking. "You want to feel my cock, don't you? Beg me," you say with such boldness, it makes my legs tremble. I feel so weak, my breathing is getting more rapid. "Please," I say trembling. "Please what?" you ask. "Please...Master."

You nod with approval.

I put my hand on your cock, which is rock hard, throbbing and hot. I gently stroke you up and down, feeling your balls that are filled with cum ~~

I closed my eyes and pressed SEND. With bated breath, I waited for his response. A few hours later, it dropped in my inbox.

~~ They are aching in your soft, delicate hands.

Then I tell you to stop. The prize is not yet for you.

First there will be some tests. I order two shots of tequila, lemon and salt.

They sit on the smooth marble bar top in front of us gleaming in the bar's dim lights. We're on our own, more or less - the barman's disappeared somewhere but there are a couple of guys seated a long way away who can nevertheless see you. I ask if you're nervous. You're shaking a little and you say you are. Good.

I tell you to unbutton your blouse.. You do so, revealing two delicate, hard nipples. I ask you how you feel on show...

You look sensational in the satin, your skin pale and creamy in the bar lights. I bend my head and lick your right nipple before sprinkling salt over it. The tiny grains stick to my wet on your skin. Then I squeeze the lemon over your left nipple. I suck the salt off you in one movement down the shot and bend my head to your other breast running my tongue all over it taking every last drop of lemon before biting into the soft flesh just enough to leave a dull red mark on you.....

Then I ask you if you'd like your shot....? ~~

It's hard to describe how I felt after I read his response. Whereas I was intoxicated before, now I was completely drunk with desire. His response was telling. I realized that I wasn't in this alone. He was feeling it too, maybe not as deeply as I was, but I was getting to him. It also told me that I was not playing with an amateur...oh, no. This was someone that not only wrote about erotic escapades, but was an experienced player. I was definitely in over my head. For the first time in my life, I felt alive, on fire. I had always done the right thing, played by the rules. The struggle of right vs. wrong, good vs. evil continued playing in my mind.

What do I do with this? I know I should break contact with him, but I just couldn't do it. I was too weak. The intensity of our writing was building and I could feel the heat coming off the page. Against my better judgment, I continued to write more.

~~ My shot...? What? For a moment, I don't know where I am...I feel dizzy, no....

I am completely intoxicated from the feel of your hot wet mouth and tongue. My breasts are shivering and wet, yet I feel like I am on fire. My left nipple has a dull ache from your bite....I wanted so badly to pull your face to me and keep it there, wishing you would ravish me again and again. I try to come to my senses..as I can now see your beautiful face in front of me, holding up my shot.

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byjouet© 3 comments/ 37967 views/ 6 favorites

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