From College Student to Submissive

I cannot believe I'm on a plane on my way to start my new life as a Submssive. How did I get here? What am I expecting from this stranger? Who would've thought an Ad in the paper would have me even consider being a sex slave.

This is how did I got here.

It started with me, a somewhat to-myself 20-year-old sophomore with a double major in chemistry and biology reading PlayGirl, casually passing the time getting myself hot looking at naked men. In the back there were ads for women who wanted to know their inner sexual being. Now I wasn't sure if I even had an inner sexual being. Even though the number was foreign, I was intrigued about discovering this "inner sexual being" so I went to the convenience store just off campus and bought a calling card. I was so nervous about talking to a strange man about sex, Hell I was still a virgin. Nevertheless I got my nerve up and dialed. After 4 rings a man answered speaking with a heavy French accent; a deep voice I found captivating.

I said "Hello" and told him I was responding to the Ad in the magazine he placed for a sexual submissive. He asked if I had any experience as a submissive to which I responded no. I told him straightforward that I had no sexual experience at all and that this was all new to me.

He told me his name, Jean-Marie von Couttier. He asked my name. Lalain, I said. He asked if I was Hawaiian, but told him I was Black to which he fond highly appealing. I described myself to him 5'5", 125lbs, dark skin and brown eyes. I told him I was a college student looking to make some extra money. All he said was "send a picture".

My roommate took the picture and I mailed it to him, but did not hear from him for another 2 weeks. I wondered if he got the pic, or if he liked what he saw. I then got a picture of him – a well-tanned white man, 6'6" tall, blonde hair, and blue eyes. The enclosed letter said that he was coming to the States and wanted to meet me in New York about 48 hours from when I got the letter. Jean-Marie made it clear he wanted me to stay with him in his hotel room at the Plaza. I told me roommate about how nervous I was meeting him, and especially staying in his hotel room.

The next day I was at JFK when his plane arrived. Following Jean-Marie's instructions, I wore a micro-mini with no panties, a low-cut blouse and 6-inch heels. I was SO nervous, I felt like a young adolescent on her first date.

As the passengers from the plane disembarked I didn't see him at first, so I walked over to the arrival board to make sure I had the right time and gate. I didn't see him walking up behind me. He reached up my skirt and squeezed me ass. Keeping my composure I did not make a sound. Jean-Marie said he was glad I followed his instructions to the letter. He turned me around and kissed me deep – my first French kiss with his tongue down my throat.

He took my hand as I went to hail a cab when a black limo pulled up. Holding the door open for me, we both got in and the limo pulled away, gliding down the Belt Parkway towards Manhattan. Jean-Marie rolled up the driver's partition and kissed me again, this time sliding his fingers between me legs and gently beginning to play with me clit. I asked what he was doing. He just told me to lay back and enjoy the massage.

Never had a man or anyone for that matter done that to me, or made me feel like I was feeling at the time. Between moans, I asked him to stop because it was feeling too good. "The driver can't hear us" Jean-Marie said so "don't worry". He told me just to go with the feeling, relish it, and release that energy.

As he was rubbing my clit I began to feel a warm liquid run down my vagina towards the crack of my ass. "Damn!" I said to myself, "great time to pee on yourself, girl!" Didn't take me long to realize though that I wasn't peeing, and that this was something else – pleasure – an explosion of pleasure that hitherto I never even imagined much less personally experienced. Jean-Marie enjoyed watching my first orgasm and afterwards he put his face between my legs. I was shocked asking him "What the hell are you doing there!?" He said he wanted to taste that juice that flowed from me.

Ho took his tongue and licked my clit in an up-and-down motion. I tried to push him away, but he grabbed my hand as he dove his face deeper between my thighs. I moaned, squirmed and writhed, begging him to stop. So caught up in the moment was I, that just as we pulled up in to the entrance of the Plaza Hotel, I gushed on his face.

Whether from my body's own reaction, or his action after, I was breathless - at a loss for words.

The doorman opened the door just as I pulled my skirt back down my legs, but nothing could hide the smell of pussy that filled the car. Looking back I'm sure the doorman had seen many things on the job, so maybe that's why he just kept a poker face.

Anyway, Jean-Marie and I stepped out the limo, checked in and went up to our suite, the luggage coming up behind us. Once in this truly palatial suite I went to the bathroom to shower to prepare for dinner later on. With the hot water cascading over my skin, he joined me, took one of his fingers and slid it up my asshole. Reflexively my asshole tightened up, but Jean-Marie told me to relax those muscles. "Release yourself to this pleasure" he said.

So I relaxed, trusting his instructions as he gently inserted his finger deeper and deeper up in a place I thought nothing should go up. Now I was moaning even louder until I felt a warm sensation all over my legs; something other than the water. He took my hand and wrapped my fingers around his penis that was so stiff it was twitching. Though I saw pics of hard-dicked white men, I never knew an actual flesh-and-blood white man could be this thick and big.

Jean-Marie asked me to put the head of his dick on my mouth. Nervously I did what he said and knelt down in the shower with the water running down my back, took him in my hand and put his dick head in my mouth, beginning to suck on it like a lollipop. He asked me to take more of him in my mouth and I did, not sure of how much more I could take. Jean-Marie told me to suck harder and I guess I was surprised to hear him moaning, and so I went on instinct and sucked him harder until I felt his dick jump and throb and warm thick liquid shot from him and filled my mouth. Dumbfounded I swallowed by reflex lest I gag on him.

He asked me how did it taste – what did his cum taste like? "Honesty?" I said, " ...you taste like coffee", and he laughed.

We got out the shower, dried each other off and got dressed, but not before he gave me a gift of a clit clamp with a bell on it. He called me his little Miss Tinker Bell and laid me on the bed, eagle-spread and still nude, and tongued my clit till my pussy opened up exposing my clit, and that's when he put it on. How big of a naughty grin did I have hearing that bell ringing as Jean-Marie and I walked down the hallway towards our dinner.

*****

That whole weekend, Jean-Marie and I talked, relaxed, ate, laughed and had oral sex – nothing more than that our first encounter. Leaving back to Amsterdam I watched his plane taking off, and I was sad, not sure if I was going to see him again. Heading back to campus, little did I know the surprise that awaited me.

To be continued ...