Exploration

I don't really know if this is the 'typical' Literotica piece. There isn't any rough sex and the story is, well, more of an exploration of my introduction to BDSM. If you are looking for a quick jerk off story, this may not be it. I'm sorry. I added and did some more editing to the original story…and since it is my first, I really appreciate any type of comments so please leave them after reading.

Also, the first time I sent the story I forgot to thank istanbulnoir for editing my work. He took the time to read many drafts and I could thank him enough for it. Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

There had always been fantasies for Kallie. As a younger girl, she would make her friends play a princess game. She'd make them take some old rusty chain and wrap it around her wrists and knot it around the porch door. She'd tell her friends to poke her, to prod her, to come up to her and call her names; mean names, and then leave her to sit there. In this play, she wouldn't want a knight in shining armor to come to her rescue; she wanted to stay there, to struggle, to try and escape, but mostly to be teased and taunted and tortured. She remembered herself becoming aroused, of course not knowing she was becoming aroused at this age, but she remembered it just feeling good. Years later, Kallie would realize the parallels between this play and her desires. 

***

My feelings have never seemed normal. I'm the typical good girl. Ever since I was little I achieved high marks in my classes. In college now, I'm in a sorority where I hold a very prestigious position and am in the running for president. I spend my nights volunteering at local school and shelters. I want to teach others. I want others to learn from me. I want to change the world. And I'm a slut. I'm a whore. I have these desires that contradict with every other aspect of my life that I can't tell anyone about.

I've never had a relationship, much less anything beyond kissing and feeling up. What real sexual experience I've had has come in the form of drunken hooking up. It's all been awkward. Sloppy. Impersonal. It's been bad breath, bad kissing, trouble with the bra, passing out before anything really happened. It got me through most of my first semester at college, but by the end of it, I wanted more. I needed more. I didn't know what was wrong with me. All my friends were just content with it.

Over that winter break, I explored the internet. In the past, I had spent a considerable amount of time in chat rooms. Upon entering, I would announce that I was "18/f, searching for good, detailed role play." The next question would always be "what type of rp are you into?" I would answer the standard things "teacher/student, neighbor/girl next door, doctor/patient…" I always wanted to be the disadvantaged one. I wanted to be the one that was forced into sex and wanted to escape but eventually gave in. The boys I talked to always wanted me to dominate them, and if they even tried to do what I wanted it was never good enough. I had the scenes played out so perfectly in my head. The teacher was to lock me in his room after class, tell me to come up to his desk, begin feeling up my skirt, push me over the desk and fuck me right there. I was to submit to him and please him. I was to be his slut for him but it never worked out that way.

After a few Google searches, I fell upon an erotic literature site. I had never heard of BDSM before and at first I was repulsed by a few of the stories. As time wore on, however, I became intrigued. I would spend my nights reading these stories; then searching websites to research what exactly this BDSM business was. One night I decided to go into a Dom/sub chat room. This night would be the one to change my life. Entering with the simple name of Kallie, I let the usual pervs message me right away...

"Need a Daddy to spank you tonight?"

"…Kallie, get on your knees right now and suck my cock…"

"You're such a dirty whore Kallie, bend over and take in my dick in your tight little ass"

These men, or "dominants", as they usually had displayed in their screen names, were not what I was looking for. I wanted a relationship, some sort of connection, some sort of mental domination. All they wanted was some dirty dialogue to get themselves off on.

Ten, fifteen minutes passed by before I received another message.

"Hi, my name is Matt. How are you tonight?"

I was intrigued. It seemed so…normal for someone to ask such a simple question.

"Bored and horny." (It was a habit of mine from chatting in other chat rooms for years to be overtly sexual.)

"Lol. Well I'm sorry about that. I just noticed you sitting in here for a while, talking to anyone special?"

I smiled to myself, thinking, only a few dirty old men. "No, no one special. Just the usual crowd you get in these chat rooms."

The conversation progressed from introductions to BDSM. Matt was an experienced dominant who was looking for someone that didn't just want to play out the roles of master and sub in a chat room, but through the internet, become a dominant of a woman; both mind and body. We talked a little about expectations, about his experience, about my experience, about what I wanted and if I was for real. He was looking for an online relationship, nothing more. Because of my inexperience and curiosity, I let him know of my interesting in pursuing something.

"Do me a favor," he said near the end of our conversation. "I want you to think about this, think about it real hard. If you are serious, write me tomorrow. I want you to tell me about your vanilla experience with men, I want to know your desires, what you think about at night."

*

After closing the chat room, I opened up my e-mail and began writing.

Matt,

Well...here is my e-mail to you. I feel something different after our conversation tonight; things are making more sense to me. But as to what you wanted me to write…

Relationship-wise, I would say I'm inexperienced. I've had two "serious" boyfriends in my past but we've never had sex. Sometimes I feel so dirty for thinking about sex even though I've never had it. I hope that doesn't make you want to steer clear of me—I really enjoyed our chat tonight and want to learn more about my own submission.

The idea of submitting is so…freeing to me…I know I have no experience with BDSM, so I guess it is a sort of guide I'm looking for. Someone patient, but firm. I'm a quick learner. But if we were just friends, it'd be nice to have someone to ask questions to about all this.

This is all for tonight. I'll talk to you tomorrow, hopefully.

kallie

*

That night I went into bed, thinking about my conversation. I couldn't help but be aroused and curious about what he would think of my note. It seemed so juvenile to be embarrassed about admitting my virginity, but I knew I had to be honest. I felt I had to be honest. He was making me honest.

As I lay in bed, I tried fantasizing. Its' always been a habit of mine to fantasize about dirty things before I fell asleep each night. I tried to think of the things he had done with different women. Was he mean? Was he harsh? Was he cruel? What did he look like? Was he some 400-pound man just wanting to lure in some young girl into his cheap, dingy apartment to have sex with her? What was he like in his "normal" life?

"Forget it," I thought to myself. "You just need to stop thinking, obviously. He'll respond tomorrow, and all we are doing is talking through the internet. Nothing can happen. I am still in control. I can still make my own decisions. I'm a smart girl. A smart girl."

For the first time in years, I fell asleep with no dirty fantasy. All I had were questions swirling around in my head. I was so intrigued and wanted to know everything about BDSM. I had to be patient though, and I fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. Immediately, I went to my laptop and opened up my e-mail. My heart jumped a little as I saw I had a new e-mail. It was from Matt. I took a breath and clicked on it, eager to see what he had written.

*

kallie,

You shouldn't feel "dirty" for thinking about sex. It's normal. Anyone would be curious about something they have never experienced.

Let me tell you first that I am surprised you wrote back. It shows you are interested and I like that. My own experience as a Master has been with two women in real life. I never lived the lifestyle 24/7, but behind closed doors we would be Master and submissive. Sexually, the women enjoyed it very much—they found it liberating to be themselves and for there to be no judgment. I am now happily married. My wife is not into the lifestyle or even play and so she does not know about this. I love her very much and care for her deeply, but I do have a need and have explored my needs through exchanging notes and developing online D/s relationships. I am telling this to you to be upfront and honest and understand if me being married bothers you.

If we were to start anything, it would only be through notes (I call them notes, not e-mails). I find instant messaging to be irritating at points because you don't have the time to fully think before you type. I can only communicate during the day, while I'm at the office. It has worked very well in the past. You will learn that you enjoy doing this, I promise you.

One final thing. I am not to interfere with the life you have already. I will never ask you to compromise yourself, your friends, or your schoolwork. Your schoolwork comes first and I expect you to do well. I think as time goes on you will find this to only enhance your life. If I get in the way of your success, we will stop.

Now, if you are serious about this I want you to start with one simple task. I do not want you to wear panties. Ever. If you are serving me you are to be open to me at any point in your day. As you go through your daily activities you will think about me at all times as your cunt rubs against your pants.

I want to know more about you, kallie. Where are you exactly? What do you do in school? What do you enjoy doing in your free time? When you think about serving me what things do you think you would do for me. I like longer notes. Write what you are thinking, not just what you think I'd like. Finally, it would please me if you attached a picture to your next note.

Master

*

I reread the note three, maybe four times. There were so many emotions going on in my head that I couldn't exactly describe exactly what I was thinking. He was serious in his intentions. In some ways, I felt like I was on a rollercoaster that couldn't be stopped. Was I ready for the big drop? Was I ready to write back and begin this journey? As I sat frozen staring at my computer, I begin putting his words together along with my own thoughts.

What did I have to lose? Absolutely nothing. This would be conducted through e-mails and we would never meet. All it was was shameless exploration. I had a need to discover my submission and he would guide me. He seemed nice enough, caring enough. He called himself Master—Master! It felt silly to think about calling someone Master. And he was married. Could I get past that? It's only e-mails, kallie, nothing more.

Breathe.

Still sitting there, I thought more about everything. I wanted to write back to him and so I began typing…

*

I want this. I am ready to submit myself to you. To serve you and please you. I really don't like to disappoint anyone and it's not my aim to try and displease you. I tried thinking about what I could do to please you…

Sometimes I think about kneeling in front of you, my eyes down on the floor. I see this position as very serene, very submissive…I don't know how else to describe it. Past that, I don't know what things I can do. I think about you telling me to do things to please you, but I don't know what. I'm sorry.

I feel weird telling you so much about my fantasies…about what I'm thinking. About school, I'm sort of in between majors. I started out journalism, switched to Political Science and International Studies and now am back at square one. I want to help people. That's all I know. I do pretty well in school; I haven't gotten below a 3.5 (yet…). It's just sort of hard for me to pinpoint exactly what I want to do in life. I'm in a sorority but I don't consider myself a typical sorority girl by any means. I play tennis, enjoy live music and reading. Ha, this seems a bit like a personal ad I'm writing. Anyway, I would say I'm pretty normal.

I think I'm okay with you being married. I see this different from an affair I guess? I see you as a mentor. That's how I separate it. It doesn't bother me.

Attached is a picture. I hope you like it. I don't know why but I struggled sending it a bit. It's nothing special. Just a picture.

kallie

*

Hitting the send button, a rush of vulnerability ran through me. While what I wrote seemed so simple, it was more than I would ever tell someone right away. And the picture—he could look at me and decide I was ugly or too fat or any other imperfection. I nervously tapped my fingers on my desk and took a second to clear my mind. I felt so small worrying about this man that I only knew existed because of my computer. I could lie about everything and he'd never know; but I couldn't lie to him. It was something I had never experienced before. When I used to go into a chat room, I would lie discussing all the naughtiest places I had fucked guys. I would tell them how good I was at sucking cock. I would tell them that I was 5'5, slim build with 32c breasts when in reality I was 5'8, 170 with 38d breasts. I was someone completely different. But with Matt…Master…I felt I had to tell the truth. I felt if I lied that he would be able to read between the lines of my notes and decipher my lies.

My day was spent like any other. I got into the shower, readied myself for the day and spent it among family and friends. That night, one of my friends was having people over at her apartment at school. Being that it was only a forty-minute drive away, I told my parents I would just spend the night and come back the next morning. I remembered Matt's directions—no panties—and started trying on different outfits. After a few outfit changes, I decided on a simple black cotton v-neck dress with some killer heels. I smiled at myself in the mirror, telling myself I looked good. And with no panties underneath, I felt very…sexy, uninhibited, free. In the back of my mind I wondered if Matt would approve of the way I dressed and secretly hoped he would.

After a few drinks I began to loosen up. I eyed a boy in the corner that had been looking at me all night and flashed a smile as a sort of "come over here" gesture. He immediately came over and we began talking. I don't know if it was the drinks or some newly found confidence, but I noticed myself saying things I would never imagine speaking before.

"So you've been staring at me all night," I smirked.

"Oh no, I just…I don't know…just…," he trailed off.

I placed a hand on his thigh, gently running my fingers up and down closer to his crotch with each stroke. As our conversation wore on, I noticed a bulge forming in his pants. I tried to keep my eyes away, but couldn't help and look. To think I could do that to someone, that I could turn someone on, to make them hard…I felt myself get wet.

Bringing my lips to his left ear, I whispered, "Why don't we go somewhere else? Somewhere private, perhaps?"

He laughed with a mixture of confidence and cockiness. "I have the perfect place, follow me."

He gave me his hand and led me outside to his car. Opening the back seat, I let myself in by bending over and flashing my bare ass. I did this knowingly, to tease him a bit. This girl in the car wasn't the normal Kallie, it was someone new and different and confident and continually horny. My clit was throbbing and my nipples were hard. I had never craved human touch as much as at this moment in time.

No words were exchanged as we were in the car. Kisses turned into caresses, caresses turned into clothes being pushed away. Soon I was removing his jeans, unbuttoning them and unzipping them. A tent had formed in his boxers and I looked at him, licked my lips and bent down. In the past, sucking a man's cock had been something I did to avoid further sexual acts. Tonight, however, I craved to suck his cock; to let him release, to taste his come, to please him. I slipped his boxers just far enough so I could start my lustful adventure.

I ran my tongue along the base of his cock, slowly, feeling the every ridge, every vain. When my tongue reached the tip, I wrapped my lips around his cock and heard a simultaneous moan. This sound only furthered my desire and I let my mouth envelope his hard, erect cock. Slowly, I ventured further and further until I had him completely in my mouth, touching the back of my throat. Just as slowly, I pulled away, taking a second to remove my lips and look into his eyes. His eyes were rolled back, his mouth half open.

My mouth went back onto his cock, now more eager to taste him. I didn't do anything special, just let him fill my mouth as I went up and down, increasing speed. Soon his hand was on my head, guiding me, and I knew he was getting closer. I sucked harder, faster, every part of me focusing on his cock. Listening to his breathing, I heard it shorten and heard louder and louder moaning. His hands moved away from my head and my mouth went to work on his own head. I ran my tongue along his slit, and my mouth swirled around the upper half of his cock. Seconds later, I received my reward. His come filled my mouth and his moans filled my ears. I smiled to myself as I tasted him, feeling fulfilled. After tasting every last drop, I pulled off him and licked my lips.

It was nothing different from my previous rendezvous with the opposite sex, however, I felt different. I needed this sexual contact; I needed to fulfill my sexual craving for the time being. And I felt sexy. For once, I felt attractive and desirable because I knew by the bulge in his pants that he was aroused. Knowing that small detail informed me he was pleased—and because he was pleased I felt I had done something right. That night I fell asleep in his car with his arms wrapped around me. I didn't even know his name.

Driving home the next morning, I thought about the night before. I seemed to come across a realization—that I desired to arouse a man. If I could arouse a man it meant he was pleased, which pleased me more than anything. Even if I didn't orgasm I was content with the knowledge of his happiness. My thoughts then transferred to Matt. I wondered if he looked at my pictures and fantasized and became hard. Did he come thinking of me? I felt myself become wet as my thoughts drifted. I hoped he became aroused while thinking of me.