tagBDSMThresholds Ch. 01

Thresholds Ch. 01


Chapter 01: The Beginning

You always seemed to know just what I needed and usually long before I realized I did.

Even the ad in the personals column – we'd never met or even knew each other existed (well at least I had no idea there was someone like You out there) and yet the words cut through the fog that I would refer to as my "being" at that point in time, like a preprogramed missile with the coordinates of my soul embedded in it's circuitry.

I'd never perused the personals before and was amazed at the general tawdriness of them, the ineffective prose, the hopelessly infantile grammar. I liked to think myself as above this melange of human desperation and yet here I was, at first appalled, then amused, and eventually sucked in by the vortex of desperate souls.

Perhaps I belonged there. I had just turned thirty and walked away from a marriage of a decade that had grown more and more miserable by the year, the month, the day, and finally the hour. My sanity was on the line by the end. No longer could I stand the lectures and dismissals of a man who had evolved from simple undemanding high school companion to born-again holier than thou sycophant. By the end he barely acknowledged my existence. I had not borne him any progeny nor had I relented and gone under the blade to achieve the voluptuous décollete that so distracted him on other women whenever we were out somewhere. My 32b cups only seemed to disgust him and he refused to even pay them a glance, much less any physical heed.

Sex in general had degenerated. We had never been particularly adventurous, only ever tried three or four positions and for many years it had plain and simply been missionary style and then only (and only) on Saturday night. I would wear a babydoll and lay there until he decided it was time to pull my panties down, flop on top of me and struggle to stick his often barely erect "manhood" into my uninspired vagina. When I finally resorted to using lubricant one night in preparation for his incursion, he accused me of being a "worthless and wanton slut" and then didn't touch me for months. When he finally did, he couldn't get hard and once again it was my fault, supposedly due to my diminutive breasts. When I tried to respond, he hit me and that was the end. I moved out the next day.

For several months I was depressed and felt unworthy, but also somehow liberated. Gradually I began to realize that other men looked at me not in disapproval, but positively, sometimes even lustily. When I began to pay more attention to my appearance, it grew more so. I went clothes shopping, thinking about what others might find appealing or what I felt good in. I got new makeup. I was no longer concerned with what he might or might not approve of.

It all started to click. My employers noticed a new attitude and I received a salary raise. I contacted a divorce attorney and began the official procedures.

One day I went lingerie shopping. At first I was a little put off by it all. I had never been in a Victoria 's Secret store and felt awkward and alone, but I persisted and bought a purple silk bra and bikini panty set as well as a silky teddy. I'd never owned anything like this before and the mere fact that my ex would not have approved made me follow through on the initial impulse.

When I got home, I slipped into the teddy in the privacy of my apartment. I poured a glass of wine. I put a Marvin Gaye disc on. I felt good.

Damn, but I felt good. I wore the teddy for the rest of the weekend. Even when I went out grocery shopping, I wore it under my jeans and T shirt. It was like a silken aphrodisiac. I bought more wine.

I was drinking that wine wearing that teddy a few weeks later as I browsed the personals on a balmy evening in May reading one pathetic imploration or absurdly lascivious double entendre after another. And then there it was, the paragraph that grabbed me in a way I never imagined a few lines printed on pulp ever could.

"M for F: devout sensualist seeks novice desiring introduction and guidance leading to transcendent wantoness. Succumb to a level of pleasure you never thought possible."

You have no idea how profound an impact that had on me that night. At first I ignored the compulsion to respond, but midway through a restless night that found me waking repeatedly with the words playing in my head, I resolved to go the next step and in the morning I rose early to compose a letter.

"Hello, my name is Corrine. Your advertisement seems to have struck a chord in me. I am a thirty year old woman who has been living a life of repression until just recently and I am now dying to explore the world of sensuality but either don't quite know where to start or haven't the nerve to. I hope you will respond and that I'm not too old for your consideration. My telephone number is xxx-xxxx - please call soon. - C

Ten days later my phone rang in the early evening. Interestingly enough I had just changed out of my work attire and into the teddy. My mind was wandering off about how sweet one of the office clerks had been that day and how flattered I had been when he got flustered as I caught him sneaking a peek down the front of my blouse. I'm not quite certain just how much he saw, but I was glad I had worn one of my new lace bras.

The voice on the other end of the line was soft and even with just the slightest trace of raspiness to it, sexy and seductive without trying to be. Sitting there in my little lavender wisp of silk I felt as though I was on display and glanced around to make certain that I'd closed all the curtains. The feeling of exposure was both unerving and at the same time rather arousing.

"Is this Corrine?"

"It is." I replied.

"This is David. You replied to my ad and said that I could call you at this number. Is this a good time for you to talk?"

"Yes." was all that I could muster.

"I'd very much like to hear more about you."

And at that I proceeded to blather on my whole story, probably telling You far more than was necessary. You were very patient with me (as You would be later as well). At one point You stopped me and asked that I describe my physical appearance to you.

"Well, I have straight brown hair just past my shoulders, brown eyes, and a medium complexion. I stand about five three and weigh one thirteen. My father was Italian and my mother Irish descent, so I guess you could say I look a little like each of those cultures. I'm not very voluptuous"

"You mean you don't have big breasts?"

"No, I don't. I only wear a B cup size bra."

"Sounds lovely to me."

Suddenly I was tongue-tied. It had been a long time since I'd heard a compliment about my appearance, but then again You hadn't yet seen me. Still, I felt my nipples hardening with my breasts being the topic of conversation.

"Do you like the way you look?"

"I've never thought much about whether I like my appearance or not. Mostly I fret over whether or not others like what I look like. My ex seemed to take me for granted - I never got much feedback from him unless I was doing something he didn't care for or wearing something he didn't like."

"You have a lovely voice. I'd very much like to meet you in person. Can you come to my office tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" I really wan't prepared for the idea that not only might things actually move forward, but that it could happen so quickly. My stomach did a little flip-flop and I felt my heart start racing.

"Yes, we'll treat it like an interview. Would noon work for you?"

"I believe so." I couldn't believe the words slid out of my mouth so easily. It sounded to me like someone else saying it. Maybe it was - another Corrine, the one that had been languishing inside me, begging for release.

"185 Saint Michael Street, suite 2C. Dress to impress."

There was an odd emphasis to the last words. As I hung up the receiver I wondered just what "dress to impress" meant to You. I tried to picture You from the sound of your voice and realized I didn't even know how old you might be. My nipples were still erect and I gently stroked them through the thin fabric of the teddy. I was aware of a dampness between my legs and my whole body was faintly tingling. The next day would undoubtedly be an interesting one.

I treated myself to a second glass of chardonnay that evening. My sleep was sporadic and I kept awakening to that velvety voice drifting through my head. My dreams were wild, largely involving flying, but totally naked, totally exposed and I liked it.

By morning I was all too ready to rise, out of bed by 5:30, showering, shaving my legs, doing the morning makeover thing, attending to my hair. I selected my favorite bra and panty set, a simple pair of white lace bikinis and a matching underwire bra that somehow made me feel sexy and comfortable while at the same time more empowered. I guess it was because I thought it made my breasts look larger. I'm certain it created a more shapely impression and the lightweight lace allowed for more than just a slight degree of nipple to be evident if I became aroused or a little chilly when worn under a lightweight blouse.

From my closet came a peach silk blouse and a simple A-line skirt in a floral pattern silk, a little peach in the pattern coordinated nicely with the blouse. Short and flouncy, I loved the way it danced about my thighs as I walked. I completed the ensemble with a pair of straw platform sandals with tall heels, and added my lucky ear studs. I was feeling good but at the same time nervous, every few minutes my stomach would do that flip-flop thing again.

Once at work I was distracted enough to launch into the morning and before I realized, it was ten thirty. But the next hour seemed to go on forever. I bet I checked the clock every two minutes. For a brief period I was focused on a problem with a document that one of my bosses had uncovered, but it was soon disposed of and I was back to clock watching.

After what seemed like an eternity, eleven thirty finally arrived. I headed for the ladies room for a quick pee and then a peek in the mirror. I thought again about your voice and my nipples hardened followed by another flip-flop. Would You like what I was seeing in the mirror? I hoped I would meet with your approval.

Walking the five blocks in the sun, I had this wonderful sense of both adventure and empowerment. I was turning a few heads and it felt good. I switched gait slightly, my strides became a little longer and I felt the hem of the skirt ride just a bit higher, showing more of my thighs as I walked and my breasts bounced ever so slightly as well. I realized I was teasing - what had come over me? It was the first time I'd ever felt quite that way. Usually I got embarassed or felt uncomfortable if I caught someone checking me out, but that morning I was absolutely reveling in it. I felt my nipples hardening once more.

185 Saint Michael turned out to be an old structure that had been rennovated as loft spaces and was occupied by an assortment of small businesses as well as a few residences. After checking my watch I crossed the threshold of the building, fully aware that I was also entering a totally new realm in my psyche and as I did I shuddered ever so slightly.

The lobby was tiny with a stair running up one side and a creaky looking old elevator tucked into a corner. The stairs were long and steep, but it was only one floor I was going up and the elevator just didn't look trustworthy so I opted to climb.

Halfway up, I heard the front door open and then bang shut. As I neared the top step, I could tell that someone had just started up the steps as well. I wondered if they could see up my short skirt and again, rather than anxious or intimidated, I found myself pleased that I had nice panties on if indeed they were able to sneak a glimpse.

A sign on the wall directly ahead indicated that suites 1A through C were to the left and D-E to the right. I realized that this was an older structure with the floors numbered with one starting on the second level. As I headed up the second flight I found myself following the person who had been behind me moments earlier who as it turned out was a young woman in workout attire, a purple thong backed leotard over shiny black tights. The thong all but disappeared between the globes of her posterior, emphasizing their shapeliness. She was moving fast in white athletic shoes, two steps at a time as I teetered along in my tall sandals. I wondered if she was merely still in workout mode or making a beeline because she needed to pee. I had been going to an aerobics class myself and it seemed like that was the state I ended up in every time my exercise class ended.

I made a mental note to do a little shopping for a new outfit. There was just something about the way that thongback had molded her backside that left me wanting to look that way as well.

At the top of the second flight I turned left and soon after that a right to find myself in a short corridor that led to a white door. To the right side of the door, four inch high pale grey characters at eye level crisply stated " two C ". I paused, took a deep breath, then raised my hand and knocked.

The door was solid sounding and the raps echoed in the confines of the corridor. I listened, but no noise came from within. I waited and still no sound or response. I was just about to knock again when suddenly the door abruptly swung open.


At first I could not see You, only the space beyond, glowing with warm midday light streaming in through huge windows. Your face was in shadow, but I could tell you were examining me. You were taller than me by several inches, even with my heels on. Your build was slim with well formed shoulders. My voice froze but eventually I managed a whisper.


"Please... come in."

You stood aside, motioned toward the room, and it was then that I got my first glimpse of your face. Clean shaven and strong with high cheekbones, tender, firm, and worldy appearing, it fit the voice that had so smitten me. At that moment I felt my body go all squishy and I immediately wanted to throw myself into your arms and let You have your way with me.

As I entered I felt your hand against the small of my back, gently ushering me forward, the way a good dancer leads his partner. Being touched like that was electrifying. Surely you must have felt me shudder with excitement.

The space was large and high ceilinged with wood flooring and huge windows that faced west and to the river. The nearest structure in view at a similiar level was probably at least a quarter mile away. It was a cloudless day and in the distance a passenger jet crept across the horizon as it circled the airport. At the far end of the room was a sofa and some lounge chairs atop a large oriental rug. Before that was a huge wooden desk with an executive chair on one side, back toward the window. Opposite it were two vistor chairs and You motioned toward them.

I was vaguely aware of the sound my heels made against the wooden floorboards but even more aware of a fierce pounding from my heart. When You had closed the door as I entered I was suddenly aware that I was crossing not just the threshold to this room but one to another realm, one very different than I had ever been to before.

Sliding into the closer of the two chairs my skirt rode up my thighs another couple inches. As you moved to the other side of the desk I saw You glance at my legs, the faintest trace of a smile on your face and I was happy. You seemed pleased and I realized that I very much wanted to please You. If you had sent me on my way right then I would have been absolutely devastated. Your smile and approval were of tantamount importance to me.

Some small talk followed and I began to relax a bit. I wonder if I looked as smitten as I felt. I worked on my composure a bit, not wanting to say anything stupid or that in any way would diminish me in your eyes. Eventually the conversation led to more direct questions.

"What is your dress size?"

"Generally a four."




I felt myself flush slightly, but still managed to get out "thirty four B".

"I'm going to guess that for panties you wear a small?"

It was getting more personal now. "Yes." I said with a bit of a question in my voice.

"Most likely I will be purchasing attire that I will expect you to wear for me."

Fascinated by the idea, I relaxed.

"Mmmm... I think I'd like that - a man buying things for me to wear." I wondered what You would buy me, thinking of how luscious my teddy felt against my bare skin and how sexy it would be to wear something like that which had been selecetd by You.

"When was your last period?"

Wow. Really personal. Trying my best to sound nonchalant I replied "Last week."

"I ask because I need to know how to schedule as we move forward."

My curiosity was piqued. What was in store for me? We proceeded through some more questions about my level of sexual experience and I became embarassed, as I was obviously such a neophyte with regard to anything beyond the most vanilla of sexual experiences. Many of the terms you used I was unfamiliar with and some of the questions left me baffled as a result. But You seemed to be pleased by my answers and as your voice calmed and seduced me, I became more comfortable sharing my intimate information.

After questions about favorite positions and whether I enjoyed oral sex, how often I became aroused, what tended to arouse me, what was the most erotic thing I'd ever experienced and many other topics, You eventually requested I stand.

"Turn for me."

I pirouetted so that I was facing away from you, hoping that my posterior met with your approval.

"Keep going."

I returned to facing you and I was struck by the gentleness of your smile. You did approve.

"Take your skirt off."

That took me totally off guard and I froze. The total bluntness of the request, no, make that "command" was completely unexpected and I realized that I was at another threshold. I could leave right now and return to life as I knew it or move ahead into another world that lord only knew what would be in store. You had provided me with hints, but nothing specific enough to know for sure. I was wary and at the same time dying to find out what was in store.

"If we are going to go anywhere with this, here is how it will work. Don't ever question my requests, always just do. I won't hurt you in any manner and I will ensure that you're never harmed by anyone else. You more than likely will be surprised, even shocked from time to time, but that is part of the process and the thrill."

There was a distinct emphasis on the last word. "For you or for me?" I asked.

"For both of us, but mostly for you."

I felt the anxiety melt away and a change came over my body. Taking a deep breath I loosened the tiny zipper at the side of the skirt then undid the clasp above it which allowed the skirt to slip down over my hips and thighs. I stared into your eyes as I did and You held my gaze, peering into my soul as you did. I don't remember releasing the skirt, but I felt it fall to my ankles.

Stepping out of it left me standing there wearing only the peach blouse which only barely came past my crotch level and concealed the lacy white panties. I was grateful that for a moment I still enjoyed the last vestige of modesty. But it was not to last long.

"Now the blouse."

This time I didn't hesitate. I was ready, ready to cross whatever thresholds you presented me with. I unbuttoned the blouse, slipped it off and tossed to one of the chairs, then stood proudly before You in my white lace bra and panties. I could feel my nipples harden as your eyes roamed across my near naked body and instead of embarassment I felt pride in their swolleness. I found myself wondering if You had an erection.

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