tagFetishSuch a Deal Ch. 01

Such a Deal Ch. 01


As a young man I always had fantasies of being dominated by a beautiful, sexy woman. I guess being raised by single mother who was weak and often victimized made me long for a strong woman.

Although I enjoyed regular sex, thoughts of being tied down, helpless, and completely under a lovely lady's control, really turn me on!

I'm not a pain freak. Mild to moderate pain is enough for me. It's mental, not physical pain that gets me off, verbal abuse and humiliation.

To be used, abused and controlled, forced to do her bidding, teasing, and prolonged erection, denial of orgasm, and cuckolding that really floats my boat.

I never had the guts to ask a woman to do these things with me. Just too chicken-shit I guess.

I was engaged to be married to my sweet little Angel. Angel was raised Christians and was a proper young lady. I don't think that even oral sex was on her conjugal menu, let alone all the kinky stuff buzzing around in my head. I needed to find out if I was really into this stuff before we were married.

Then, one day while reading the sex-ads in the Los Angeles Free Press, I saw an ad that said, "Female Dominant seeks submissive men to play with."

"Go for it, you chickenshit!" I thought to myself.

I called the number listed and received a recorded message stating, "This is Mistress Ileana. If you are a naughty boy in need of discipline leave your number. I'll call you back when I damn well feel like it.

I stammered on her answering machine, "I-I-I'm K-Kelly. I want, I mean, could we, I-I, call me at 323-913-4405. T-thank you, ah, ah, click."

God was that stupid! Now she'll know what a fool I really am. I doubt if she will call back. Oh well, at least I had made one step toward trying to confront my fantasy. I wasn't sure which I wanted more, for her to call or not call back.

I had pretty much forgotten all about it when a week later I got a phone call and a sexy voice said, "Hello Kelly, this is Mistress Ilene. I heard your pathetic plea for my services so I am going to give you one chance to see me. I want you to be at Nick O'Dell's Restaurant Friday night at 7:30pm sharp. You will be wearing a pink shirt with a red bowtie." Click.

"Oh my god, this is going to happen!" I thought to myself. I quickly looked up the address of the restaurant and nervously scribbled it down. Friday night was only three nights away.

I kept fantasizing the meeting over and over. What I was going to say and her replies. I tried to put a face to the voice. That voice, that exquisite voice that radiated femininity but demanded total obedience.

Finally Friday arrived. I had purchased a pink dress shirt and red bowtie for the occasion. I showered fastidiously and wore my black slacks and charcoal colored sports coat.

I decided to bring her a dozen roses I had pre-ordered. They were beautiful. Anything less than perfect I knew would be totally unacceptable.

In my eagerness I arrived forty minutes early. I informed the maître d' I was expecting a lady friend at 7:30pm.

He glanced at his watch, the pink shirt, red bowtie and the roses, and smiling said, "Very good sir, would you like to wait in the bar. I will be glad to seat you when she arrives."

I wondered if the pink shirt and red bowtie was a give-a-way. Does she usually see her first-time clients here, does the maître d' know?

I nodded my head and went into the bar to wait. After three whiskey sours, I glanced at my watch. It was 8:00pm. Was I being stood up? Was this part of the game to keep me off balance? It was working.

All of a sudden I heard her voice behind me.

"Good evening Kelly," She said seductively, "Shall we go to our table?"

I turned around and gazed into two aqua-green eyes. I found myself being drawn into those eyes like a bird being hypnotized by a serpent. She was the most incredibly beautiful woman I had ever seen. Her hair was dark auburn, he skin, pale olive. He lips, full and red like rose petals.

"I-I-I, yes, I mean sure, I..." I replied awkwardly.

"Well aren't you the silver-tongued devil." She mocked, taking my arm and leading us out of the bar, into the main dining area.

After being seated, I presented her with the roses. She did not seem pleased. She pulled one of the roses out of the bouquet and held it close to my face.

At first I thought she wanted me to smell their delicious fragrance but I was wrong. She rubbed one of the thorny stems across my cheek causing me to wince from the pain produced from the scratches.

She then said in a soft voice, "You have a lot to learn. Never bring lady cut flowers. Do you want to know why?"

I nodded my head as a tear spilled from my eye running down the torn cheek.

"Because," she added, "cut flowers represent the blossoming flower of womanhood, cut down in her prime to wither and die. Do you understand?"

I nodded meekly and said nothing.

I was at a loss for words. Fortunately the waiter approached us and inquired about our choice of pre-dinner drinks.

She ordered the best Champaign. I, already having had three whiskeys, and starting to feel a bit tipsy, ordered a seven-up.

I was beginning to worry as I looked at the menu. There were no prices listed. I had heard of places like this. If you had to ask how much, you couldn't afford it and she was drinking Champaign like it was water.

As if to read my mind she said, "Don't worry about the check, I know the owner. They don't charge me, ever."

I breath a sign of relief, smiled and continued reading the menu.

She then inquired. "You have never done this before, have you?"

I wasn't quite sure what she meant but I shook my head and said, "No, this is all very new to me. I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you and I am afraid I might make a fool of myself."

She laughed and said, "Don't worry about that, I plan on making you my fool. Would you like to be my fool?"

"No, I mean yes, I mean, whatever you want?" I said, hating my own insecurity

"Listen," she continued. "Let's cut to the chase. You want my services. You need to be taken control of and taught how to obey. I normally don't take beginners. Too much trouble but you appeal to me. You are good looking and have a young strong body and do not seem to be on a big ego trip. I charge $300 an hour to teach men how to be good little boys. Are you interested?"

Interested was putting it mildly but her fees were way above anything I could afford.

"I'm sorry," I replied. "Of course I'm interested. You had me at "Good Evening ", but I drive a cab for a living. You are way out of my price range. Not that you are not worth ten times that amount. I am sorry I have wasted your time, Mistress Ilene."

Mistress Ilene smiled at me and replied, "I figured you for a blue collar guy but you amuse me. I tell you what, how would you like to help me with a little educational project. You can pursue your fantasy and help me in the process, interested?"

"Absolutely," I exclaimed. "What do you want me to do?"

"Well," she continued, "I have a niece that just turned eighteen. She knows what I do for a living and thinks it's marvelous. She would like to do an internship with me and maybe pursue this lifestyle. I think you would be the perfect training-aide!"

I was completely shocked. Here I was, being asked by a beautiful woman to be her and her young niece's play toy, for free. The gods of perversion were surely smiling down on me!

"I'm your man, eh, slave, eh, training aide," I quickly replied. "When do we begin?"

Mistress Ilene laughed at my eagerness and said, "Down boy, down. I will expect you to be at my home tomorrow at 10am. When you get to the front door you will find a plastic trash bag. Strip completely and put all of your clothes inside it. Once naked, ring the doorbell and get on your knees and wait to be admitted.

To be continued...

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