Dominating Discordia

I can't really remember word for word what happened-- or moment to moment, so this story is paraphrased and is written to the best of memory. Some things may have been left out, but that's only because I was focused so inward in the moment.

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This is story of my first bisexual experience, brought to life by a woman named Melanie, and how she took me to a whole new level of personal understanding and even questioning. This woman, who more or less introduced me to BDSM, via the Internet, finally gave me the opportunity to meet her-- after 10 years of wondering about her. Now, you're probably wondering, "After 10 years, she must be a fake?" And well, sometimes, I thought so too. However, this woman is very elusive, and very anti-social. She's pretty drastic, she generally hates people, and she avoids interacting with them whenever and wherever she can, unless there's something to gain in it for her. This woman, Melanie, is a true predator, a Mistress, a BDSM Idol, a Kink Idol, a Goddess of the finest degree. She was the only person who was really able to push my buttons and spark things within me, even things that I had always wanted to play down and pretend that didn't exist-- she was able to spur them, and bring them to forefront. In other words, she was able to mentally Domme me-- without so much as trying. I had been going through another phase where I thought, "Maybe I need to explore that 'side' of me, for real, and I started emailing her trying to provoke her to re-appear after being absent for nearly three years.

Much to my surprise, the idea of talking to her about 'Discordia', my alter ego, was too juicy for her to let slip by, and she agreed to meet me. She said she would let me know when she's in town and watch for her message. So, one day, when she said she would message me and let me know when she was in town, she told me to meet her in the parking lot across from the YMCA, and that she would be driving a van. A van! Even before I decided I would meet her, I was driving myself nuts and crazy and insane wondering if I should or not. Why? Because Melanie never loses. It's true. Melanie never loses, and Melanie has never lost. If Melanie wants something, she gets something, and I always knew that. And while me and Melanie were equal in wit and words and we could argue one another to an absolute standstill, and I could outwit in many-a-insults, she's still a very experienced and very powerful woman. I knew what she was capable of, and I really didn't know what she really wanted with me. I even thought she could have just been playing a game with me, just for me to go out and meet nobody while she laughs her ass off somewhere on the Internet.

Luckily, the YMCA is just a few minutes away from me, so I got ready as quickly as I could and bolted out the door toward the YMCA not wondering what I was going to run into. However, being the only van in the school parking lot across from the YMCA at night with no other vehicles, it was easy to spot. And I could just make out the figure of a person sitting behind the driver seat through the dusk light. I approached the passenger side of the van, and opened the door, the light in the van popped on and I was in a state of shock, in a sense. This woman had been my "kink idol" for nearly a decade and here I was, now, with her sitting just a few feet away from me. To describe her, it really doesn't do her justice. She's an older woman, late 30s, but she has a very innocent and youthful look. Most people wouldn't figure her to be out of her late 20s. Melanie, is tall, she's about (as she says) an over 6' amazon without heels-- her seat in the van was stretched back, and I had a moment to get a tasteful look at her profile. Her sleek, black hair fell freely over her shoulders, her face was milky and smooth and nearly flawless, and although she was dressed quite casually-- in a t-shirt and jeans, they were very form fitting and showed off her curves and definition perfectly. Her dark brown eyes were looking me over as I was looking her over, and just for a moment, I caught her glance and she caught mine. Her hair fell down in front of one of her eyes, she swished it aside with her fingers, and I was just mesmerized by this incredibly beautiful woman. I must have looked like a fool just staring at her, which felt like an eternity, but really was just a few seconds.

"You are not sitting up front," Melanie stated quite bluntly, without so much as a 'hello' or 'a nice to meet you.' Her voice was soft, and sweet, but it was very, very commanding. She turned away and looked forward and reality snapped back to me briefly, and I closed the passenger door. As I opened the passenger side of the van Melanie glanced back and said, "Oh, and if you want to go with me tonight, there's something for you to wear back there."

"What," I asked, I was still in a state of near shock from meeting her. I looked down at the floor of the van, and sure enough-- she had laid out a little outfit on the backseat. A long-sleeve black shirt/skirt, or whatever it was, a pair of knee-high boots (apparently, me and Melanie share the same boot size, well, a little tight for me, but still), and black stockings. I must have turned red from head to toe. I looked at Melanie, I looked at the clothes-- and then I looked to see how far I would have to run to get away from this woman.

"Get dressed and get in, or get lost, " she said with a snarl of impatience, and she started up the van. I couldn't believe I was doing it, but there I was in a school parking lot taking off my clothes and putting on a dress-- which couldn't be described as anything but short. The dress, literally came to the near top of my thighs. "Give me your clothes, " Melanie commanded. I tossed them to her, and she tossed them on the floor of the front passenger seat.

See, this is where I should have known Melanie better, but I obviously didn't.

Melanie took off in the van, and drove up the street, leaving me behind in a short black dress, boots, stockings, and a wig. She had my clothes, my house keys, my cell phone-- everything. My heart jumped quite a bit, but I felt some relief when I saw her pull to the curb further up the road and wait.

I caught up to the van and stood near the open door, almost afraid to jump in too quickly.

"This is how it is, " she said very matter of factly, "I'm in control. I say, you do. If you don't, I leave you on the corner. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I nodded quietly, and this was where my mind started losing itself or I started losing myself. She had me, she knew it, and I knew it. There was not going to be a battle of will, there was going to be no battle at all.

"Get in," she ordered.

I climbed into the van's backseat and sat down, thoroughly relieved that I was no longer standing outside in what I was wearing. When she drove off, I was thoroughly terrified she was going to leave me there. My only options would have been either to walk to my relatives house and ask for my house key, or knock on my landlord's door and get the key there. Neither of those options would had been appealing given my attire.

Melanie pulled out a leather hood and held it out to me, "Put this on, I have to pick up someone, and I'd rather you not know where they are."

I put the hood on, and she locked it around the neck so I couldn't remove it. Then the van started moving. It was very disorienting to be moving in a vehicle with a hood, not being able to see where I was going. Especially when you're prone to car sickness when sitting in the back seat. Luckily, I didn't throw up, but I had spent so much time concentrating on not throwing up from the ride, I entirely forgot of trying to figure which where she had been taking left and right turns, or how long the trip was.

We stopped, I heard the door open, and the feel of someone getting into the front seat. She said, "Hi, Mistress, is that the crossdresser guy?"

I don't know why, but just hearing another girl say 'crossdresser guy' sent a dose of humiliation through me, and I was just sitting there trying not to react, trying not to show how thrilling or scary this was for me. One thing I did know about Melanie was that the more you struggle, the worse it gets. I had to stay calm, and just go for the ride. Yet, why I thought it mattered, was pointless.

"She fits into the dress so well, so cute," she remarked, and I felt a hand reach under my skirt and grab onto my cock. "Oh, and excitable too!" I hadn't entirely realized it, but I had a raging, raging hard on from the whole thing, and it had been practically sticking out from under the skirt the whole time. She started stroking my cock and giggled, "Do slutty dresses turn you on, huh?" I was in no place in my mind to answer that question, then I felt a hard slap to my cock, and a more commanding voice, "She asked you a question, answer it!"

I responded to the slap with an "Oww, fuck" and that just earned another hard slap to my cock. "Answer it!"

"Yes! Yes" I practically shouted, she did not hit lightly, by any stretch.

"Yes what," Melanie's voice demanded.

"Yes, slutty dresses turn me on," I said.

"When you wear them," she continued questioning.

"Yes, slutty dresses turn me on when I wear them," I said quickly, almost moaning because the other girl had continued to stroke my cock.

I heard a quick bit of rustling in the front seat and then I heard Melanie ask a question which made my heart nearly sink, "What's your real name, Discordia?"

"What," was my response-- which earned another very hard slap to my cock.

"Your real name, what is it?" I knew she had my ID in her hand, and lying to her would have been a world of hurt in itself. Why had I not left my wallet home? I took it out of habit as I rushed out the door, fuck.

"It's *** ***," I said in a very quiet tone.

Another hard slap to my cock, followed by, "Louder!"

That's when a bit of wild fear set into me, and I knew I was in a red zone. Regret hit me, and I pushed away the hand that was on my cock, and I tried pulling the hood off my head, but it was stuck on rather tight. I don't remember much about the battle, but I remember the van door opening on the side and Melanie getting a strong grip on me and throwing me to the floor of the back. I remember her weight, I remember her yanking my arms back and snapping on a pair of handcuffs. She propped me back up on the seat and we all drove around silently for awhile.

I was terrified of what she was planning on doing at this point. I knew Melanie was unpredictable and has no fear of consequences. I particularly felt afraid when the van hit a dirt road and had been riding on it for what seemed like a hour, but could have well been 20 minutes. Time is a funky thing when you can't see anything.

Finally, the driving came to a halt, and the stroking of my cock resumed.

Melanie spoke in a very solid and serious tone, "Listen, you're already in over your head. We're in the middle of nowhere, nobody can see you, nobody can hear you. Either tell me your real name voluntarily, or I can make you scream it for me and you will scream it. I'm giving you a choice. It doesn't happen often. Either way, I get what I want."

The other girl piped up with what was obviously a cheerful smirk, "Be a man, don't tell her. Just look at this big, strong cock. That's not the cock of a sissy who gives in without a fight, is it?"

So, there I was, in the middle of god knows where, dressed up like a girl, hooded, my heart was sunk, my brain was nearly frozen, my cock was being stroked, and I was terrified of these women. I felt it was good that I was wearing a hood, because I did have a couple tears in my eyes at this point. "My name is ** **," I said, with whatever authority I could muster.

Melanie laughed, and the girl giggled.

The girl, whose voice I've been deploring more than Melanie's at this point, "So, ** **, do slutty dresses turn you on when you wear them?"

"Answer her!" Melanie demanded again.

"Yes," I managed, "slutty dresses turn me on when I wear them."

I felt a pair of hands at my neck, unlocking the hood, and it was pulled off. I couldn't see, the inside lights of the van was too bright after being blind for so long, and my wig was out of place, which Melanie oh so kindly fixed. But then my vision focused, and a whole new terror and humiliation swept through my body. The girl, a pretty half asian, obviously Angela, was grinning the biggest grin I've ever seen and holding a camcorder pointed directly at me.

"Smile, you're on candid camera," she gloated.

A whole new struggle ensued, but honestly, it wasn't much of a struggle. I was handcuffed, and Melanie's hands were around my neck holding me in place, and holding my face in front of the camera.

Melanie squeezed my neck slightly and asked, "Tell us again, what's your name and what happens when you wear slutty dresses?"

There was no hiding the tears this time, they were flowing freely, and the helplessness and vulnerability I was feeling in the situation was making me far too emotional to control what I was feeling. I started losing my focus somewhere around here, it was just too intense. I remember repeating my name and the phrase they wanted me to say. I remember Melanie having her arm around my neck, and her other hand stroking my cock at a slow, regular pace. I remember her saying how a man's cock is like a lie detector, and responds to sexual questions which turn a person on. I don't remember all the questions, just a few stuck out in my head.

"Do you find men attractive," Melanie asked.

"No," I said, my cock didn't jump.

"Would you like to fuck me?"

"Yes," I said, and my cock throbbed hard.

"Would you like Ang to fuck you?"

"Yes, I said, and my cock throbbed.

Angela laughed and shook her head like she was disgusted.

"Have you ever sucked a cock before?"

"No, " I said, and my cock stayed still.

"Would you like to suck a cock?"

"No," and my cock throbbed.

Melanie tightened her arm around my throat and said, "Tell us the truth."

"Yeah," Ang said, moving the camera closer, "Tell us the truth."

I tried looking away from the camera and said, "Yes."

"Yes, what," Melanie asked, squeezing my neck harder.

"Yes, I want to suck a cock." My cock throbbed hard.

That was the last question.

Melanie took the camera and then Angela started applying make up to my face. She was making all sorts of rude comments about me during the process, sometimes humiliating and I would look away from her. When I did that, she slapped me in the face and tell me to behave. It was odd, I found it far more humiliating to be told what to do by Ang than being told what to do by Melanie. Angela spent awhile, but at the end of it, she held up a mirror and I looked feminine. Very. Feminine.

Melanie and Angela got out of the van, leaving me handcuffed and sitting pretty with a seriously hard cock. It was a surreal experience for me, because I was never so focused before on what state my cock was in, but it was almost hurting, to be frank about it. It was hard, solid, and the stroking and humiliation had it in a frenzy. But, amidst the frenzy I noticed Melanie and Angela were nowhere near the van and we were parked in a very woodsy cabin area. I watched the time tick by on the radio clock in the van, ten minutes or so had passed, and then Melanie came back without Ang.

Melanie got in the van, sat down for a moment, and then, "How are you enjoying me," she asked, almost genuinely, as if she wanted to really know or really cared. She wrapped a small collar with a leash around my neck, smiling triumphantly.

I didn't know what to say, so I just looked at the floor of the van in silence. This woman had completely obliterated any sense of command I had from the start. I was confident about nothing. I was sure about nothing.

"Aww, poor pussy cat," she coo'd at me, "Put your nose to the floor, and don't look up. I have to go to town."I kneeled silently in the back of the van, my nose to the floor, too afraid to even think about glancing up, scared that she would catch me in the act. I had never encountered such execution of power in my life. I had never encountered such a dominate personality in my life. In neither man nor woman. My nose was to the floor, my heart was beating, I was dressed like a slut, my hands were cuffed, I was wearing a collar and leash, and my cock was aching to be released. It was so intense, I had started grinding my hips slowly back and forth and rubbing my cock against the hard carpeting of the van.

Of course, Melanie caught that and commented, "If you want to act like a whore, I can trick you as one. I know enough men who would pay for your ass. Would you like that?"

I shook my head and whispered a faint no, but in the moment, I'm not even sure what I was feeling.

After a short drive, shadows from the street lights caught my attention. I glanced up and noticed we were pulling into a gas station. Melanie got out of the van, and I felt a very brief sigh of relief that she and I were not in the same space until I heard the side of the van slide open, she tugged the leash but I refused to budge. There were people coming and going and I was absolutely not going to step foot out there. So, she grabbed my arm, and literally yanked me out of the van onto the pavement. She slammed the van door shut, catching the end of the leash in the door, sticking it there, and locked the van.

"Be a dear and fill it up, would you," and she walked into the gas bar, leaving me leashed to the side of the van.

"Holy fuck," was all I could think at this point, while I tried to get the gas hose and put it into the van with my hands cuffed behind my back-- all while trying not to draw attention to myself. I couldn't face the van and fill it up, so, I had to lean back, holding the hose, hiding the handcuffs and the leash in the door, as people walked by, while trying to keep my cock from poking out under my skirt.

Only one guy noticed something was strange and he walked up to the end of the van and asked, "Miss, do you need help there?"

I shook my head, refusing to speak, hoping he didn't realize I was actually a guy dressed as a woman, handcuffed, and fucking leashed to a van. He walked away, with me hoping he didn't notice anything. Let me tell you, it's difficult to interact with people and pretend everything is fine when you're handcuffed.

After what seemed like an eternity, Melanie returned and let me back in the van. I was physically shaken something fierce.

Melanie pulled the van from the pump and into the parking lot and we waited a few moments.

Things were silent, too silent.

"What are we waiting for," I tried to ask.

"Shut up," she snapped, even before I got to the word waiting.

So, we sat there in silence. Not a few minutes later, a man approached the van, opened the side of the van, and sat next to me. He put his arm around me and I had never felt so uncomfortable in my life. This man, about 6', an obviously strong build, and definitely with the looks required to marry a beautiful woman like Melanie.

"Hey Milky," he said to Melanie, "how's the best wifey in the world doing tonight?"

"Don't call me wifey," she hissed.

"Okay, wifey," he joked. Oh crap.

He pulled his arm tighter around me, looking at me, "So, who do we have here?"

"Her name is Discordia," Melanie said, "and she's looking to suck your cock tonight, sweetie."

He laughed, I blushed, and kept staring out into the darkness, humiliated.

"Let's go for a drive," he suggested.

So, we drove around for awhile, wherever we were, I didn't recognize the area, at all. Not that I would anyway, I never got out much as I never had a car. But, he talked about his trucking, where he and Melanie traveled, how hot of a fuck she was, how amazing in bed she was, how much he loves that she brings him people like me, and ultimately, how hard his cock was and how he couldn't wait to feel my mouth around it.