Meeting Lyn Ch. 02

Note: Thanks to SissyKatty for editing assistance with this story.

I arrived at Lyn's house on the day of the session and rang the doorbell. The door opened and I saw her standing there looking all shining and resplendent in her regalia. She was wearing a cotton shirt, along with a high-waist body fitting knee-length skirt. Her feet are shod in vertiginous heels. Her clothes, all the way down to her heels, were black. The color gave me a foreboding of my dark desires that we were going to explore together. She greeted me with a smile and invited me inside. I could see that her apartment was tastefully done and revealed a woman of fine tastes and sensibilities. A large wooden shelf filled with books reminded me of our shared love of literary pursuits. But what intrigued me most was a large table in the drawing room. On it were laid all kinds of whips, floggers, canes, cuffs, restraints, and a dazzling array of other BDSM paraphernalia.

She beckoned me to sit down and make myself comfortable. I gave her the envelope with her fees, and she accepted it with a polite,

"Thank you."

She went into the kitchen and offered me a glass of red wine and took one for herself. We both took a few sips of wine and chatted casually. The wine made me feel more relaxed and uninhibited. I looked at Lyn and gave her a sheepish smile and she too smiled back at me, a very beautiful reassuring smile, giving no inkling of what sort of torture and punishments she had in her mind for me. In my mind, my own train of thoughts were beginning to take shape. I tried to forget the distractions of everyday life and focus my mind and body on the impending session. For the moment everything else fell away and the universe was only comprised of me and the beautiful lady in black sitting opposite to me. I was thrilled that such a gallant sexy woman was inviting me to her house, showering me with her hospitality and giving me all her attention. I resolved that I would prove myself worthy of her attention by being a very obedient slave, pliant to all her whims and orders.

Our casual conversation continued for some more time after which she asked me to kneel in front of her and worship her foot. I have always liked being ordered by a woman. It is not even necessary that the order might entail that I must do something humiliating or sexual on my part. Her order can be as commonplace as fetching her a glass of wine in a public place or running some small errand for her. But this gives me the feeling that I am in the company of a woman who has some sort of power over me, and it gets me excited. When her words carry a rough edge, a dominating tone, it feels even better.

"Kneel down and lick my feet."

This command was given with an overabundance of assertiveness and authority. I melted instantly.

She was sitting cross legged on the sofa, so I knelt on the floor and took her right foot in my hands. She had such beautiful well arched feet, indeed worthy of worship. I started to follow her order, not just mechanically, but with feeling and tenderness. I took her big toe in my mouth, rubbing it gently up and down, enjoying its texture. Then using my tongue, I caressed the arches of her foot and its entire length, varying my suction and tongue pressure as my tongue explored the contours of her beautiful foot. I casually stopped for a moment in between and immediately I felt a sound resonating slap on my cheeks.

"Did I ask you to stop?"

I resumed my ministrations on her foot immediately. To be ordered by my mistress and then spanked into correction for any infraction of her orders was something I liked. I was enjoying the way the session was playing out. She offered me her left foot and I tended to it with the same care and attention. I felt that any act of servitude can turn into a fulfilling experience if I pour my heart and soul into it. I could go on worshiping her feet forever, but she had other plans for me.

She commanded me to stop and stand up in front of her. By now, I saw that her demeanor and personality had undergone a drastic change. She was no longer the friendly affable woman I met at the restaurant. Rather, she had turned into a cruel and manipulative person against whom I was totally defenseless. Now she looked every bit scary and intimidating to me. I found her metamorphosis exciting!

I now had to take off all my clothes. With only my underwear left on me, I feel a bit hesitant, but I know I have no choice but to submit. Stark naked in front of this fully clothed woman, whom I know only slightly, I feel embarrassed. She seems to understand and enjoy my predicament well. I could sense a glint of a devilish smile and smirk on her face. She runs her hands over my chest and pinches and twists my nipples. She grabbed my balls and squeezed them. I let out a small cry of pain and she laughed. She continued to play with my naked body for some more time and after that, she instructed me to go to the bedroom and wear something that she had brought for me. I turn back and move towards the bedroom.

"Go fast you cunt."

She yelled at me and gave me a rough push on my back. I almost tripped but somehow saved myself from falling.

I got a thrill when I saw what she had kept for me in the bedroom. On her bed, was kept a flimsy velvet colored gown crafted with delicate mesh and lace and a satin bow right at cleavage. By its side was a matching velvet panty with a retro look, accentuated with ruffled frills. And that was not all. Besides the dress, I could find a long-haired wig of reddish-brown shade. I had told Lyn earlier about my desire to be feminized and my obsession with women's undergarments. How thoughtful of her to keep these accessories for me! I put on the dress and just loved the feel of the fabric brushing my genitals. It made me feel so sexy and feminine!! I knew that I didn't look the least bit convincing, but it didn't stop me from imagining that I was a sexy submissive slut. I came out of the room dressed in that negligee and presented myself to Lyn.

She smiled and allowed me to enjoy the newfound sensations and feelings I was experiencing, wrought by being made to wear sexy lingerie. But not for long. Very soon she seized me and brought me to the edge of the sofa. She made me drape over her lap, my belly pressing against her outer thighs and my face crushed against the sofa seat, making my eyes blinded. She raised my dress up to my waist, pulled down my panties, and fondled my buttocks. It was the most vulnerable position to be in. At the same time, I felt it was also the most intimate position that I could ever aspire to be in. Our bodies were so close. She starts to spank my bottom slowly and rhythmically.

"WHACK, WHACK, WHACK"

My butt had started stinging and I began to feel a thrill all over my body every time the palm of her hands would strike my butt. Apart from spanking my bottom, she was up to something else too as I could feel my anus gradually stretched. I presume she had worn a glove and was slowly penetrating my anus with her fingers. I had read about this kind of sexual activity somewhere, called "fisting". I wasn't immediately excited by this kind of play, but not averse to exploring it either. However, not having prior experience of being fisted earlier, my butt cheeks puckered instinctively. In a calm voice she asked me to relax and let go. Gradually I started to get used to this sensation of my anus being invaded like that and even derived some pleasure out of it. This bare bottom spanking and fisting continued for a while until it was time to move on to the next act.

Lyn made me sit on a stool and fastened leather cuffs on my wrists. She forced my hands behind my back and shackled my wrists. She looked at me threateningly and slapped me hard. She seemed angry with me for some vague reason, admonishing me severely and calling me filthy names. Suddenly she seemed to have some mercy on me and stroked my face and inner thighs tenderly. But this is again followed by a volley of tight hard-hitting slaps on my face and my cheeks began to feel sore.

The versatility and efficacy of her hands amazed me. The same hands that would caress my body so lovingly could also hit me so violently. She made me standup and puts a ball gag in my mouth. Then she puts clamps on my nipples and adjusts the screws in such a manner that the pain is intense, but bearable. Lyn choose one of her whips from the various pieces of spanking equipment that was displayed on the table. She ran the tail of the whip menacingly, brushing it against my body before starting to hit me with it. The first few shots were rather painful, and I let out a muffled groan. But Lyn is now in no mood to relent or show any compassion towards me. She continued to viciously hit my inner thighs and legs. It required my body sometime to adjust to the ferocity of the blows and take them stoically. Gradually my mind was able to reach a state of equanimity and calm hitherto inexperienced. And every time I was hit, I could feel frissons of pleasure coursing through my entire body.

'Pain builds pleasure.'

This was something I had heard, but now I was experiencing this firsthand. Occasionally, Lyn would tell me to bend over or spread wider. Each time she gave me a command I obeyed without question.

With my wrists still shackled behind my back, I was made to lie belly down on the cold tiled floor. My legs were folded, and my ankles were now fastened together by leather cuffs. As I lay sprawled on the floor in this almost immobile position Lyn once again abused me verbally and kicked me with her heels. She was now treating me like a worthless scum who only deserved being abused and beaten, who only deserved contempt, mockery, and derision. I was a bit perplexed by the emotions flooding inside me. In everyday life, I would not take insults lightly. But here I was being humiliated and abused ruthlessly, and other than a small undertone of fear, not only was I liking the experience, but I was also actually feeling a sense of profound gratitude towards this woman. Perhaps I had become insane. But I just didn't want my tortures to stop. I wanted Lyn to continue hitting me with more vigor and ferocity until I would just break down crying and would beg for her mercy. But Lyn in her discretion judged that I had enough, and it was time for the final act of the day.

While I was still hogtied, she blindfolded my eyes and seemed to disappear for some time. After a few minutes, I could hear the distinct squeak of her heels and felt that she was standing over me. I felt a slightly tingling sensation as she anointed some viscous liquid on my back. She continues to drop this liquid at various points of my exposed back, and I feel a pleasant burning sensation. She pauses for a moment and pours something again. But this time, I feel a very cold freezing sensation. Perhaps it's ice. I started to anticipate where the next drop would be poured and whether it would be fire or ice. She continues to build up my anticipation with her tantalizing game of fire and ice. I start to feel an orgy of warm sensations, soothing and awakening my skin. She gives me some time to enjoy these sensations till they subside.

Lyn unfastened the cuffs holding my ankles and I stretched out my legs. She helped me to my feet and freed my hands. She looked at me caringly and inquired if I was ok. I replied in the affirmative. She was once again loving, and gentle to me. She asked me to go to the bathroom and take a shower. After the shower I walked up to Lyn and asked if there are any scars or marks on my body. I stood naked before her, and it felt good. She made me turn around so that she could examine my back. Lyn was not satisfied. She took a swab of cotton and cleaned my back and buttocks, knocking off the tiny blobs of dried wax that had stuck to my body. The sensation of her hands on my body, seemed like a gentle caress. Lyn makes me feel loved, cherished. Every time I saw her face, she smiled wide as well.

I put on my clothes and went to the drawing room. Lyn was seated on the sofa, and I laid on the floor beneath her. I wanted her to rest her feet on my knees and she allowed me to stroke her feet tenderly with my hands. We took a couple of more swigs of wine while we discussed the events of the session.

It was now time to leave. I started to gather my stuff. My bag, watch and my purse were strewn all over.

"Don't forget to take your sunglasses." She said with a smile.

I picked up my stuff and went over to her to bid goodbye. I managed to mutter my thanks before I finally left.

I had just lived one of the most memorable and thrilling adventures of my life. It was going to take me a while to fully grasp the extent to which my fantasies had been fulfilled

Epilogue:

Lyn is such an amazing woman that she not only met but far exceeded the expectations I had set on her. She had a bone deep understanding of kink and the dynamics of power play. She took time to understand the deepest desires and kinks of her sub and paid so much attention to detail. More importantly, she had the safety and wellbeing of her sub foremost in her mind. She was skilled in her craft and has the imagination and ingenuity to make her sub live fantastic experiences while at the same time respecting their boundaries and hard limits. For example, she knew just how to play with a newbie like me, applying the right amount of pain and pressure so that I enjoy the overall experience, but don't freak out totally. Today as I sit back and reflect on this experience, I feel she was in a way holding my hand and taking me to the innermost recesses of my psyche, to those neglected corners that remain untended and often don't see the light of day. But when shared and explored with a trusted and worthy individual like her, made my life happier, and more meaningful.