Jade

Romance has been in my blood since I was only a girl of sixteen. An avid reader of anything in the romance genre, I’m especially keen on the darker side of the romantic spectrum, the side where pain and pleasure meet in an ebbing and flowing stream of both calm and frantic nuances. A place where sin and evil meet with good and innocence, leaving their residue on each.

My curiosities have come all the way to the surface, and they won’t allow me to shove them down any longer. I sit at my computer, searching the vast Internet to find someone who will help me. I need help to understand the reality that is BDSM, something that won’t leave my mind.

The books I’ve read are great, enjoyable, and pleasing. But I think they’re purely fictional, with little to do with the reality of that lifestyle. And I want to know more about it all; the why’s, where’s, and how’s of the whole thing. Why do people do it? Where do they find others who want the same things they do? How do they take society’s sideways glares that let them know everyone knows what they’re doing, and that most think it’s disgusting?

What immoral behavior is has been adjusted since the days of old when women wore nightgowns that covered them from their necks to their feet, and men were covered too. Small slits were made in the front for sexual activity, an activity that was not for pleasure but for procreation and procreation alone.

Masturbation, if one was caught doing such a horrible thing, was more than merely frowned upon. One was punished for it, and harshly, at that. Nowadays when one is punished, per their requests, mind you, they’re deemed immoral. It’s a common belief that if one practices BDSM or any variety of that, then the person must’ve had a bad upbringing or something terrible happened to them. Most people think something sexually abusive occurred.

I have to admit that I have favored that mindset. Recently, for reasons I cannot explain, I’ve had other thoughts about the people who practice the lifestyle. I just can’t imagine why anyone would want to dole out punishment or receive it, as an adult. But deep in the recesses of my heart, I long to understand. The core belief resides in me that not all who seek out this type of attention have been broken in one way or another.

Being an erotic author is my dream, my passion. I simply love to go away in my head to worlds where anything is possible. Worlds where an ordinary woman can meet up with an abnormally handsome, viral, and of course, heavily muscled man. He would be filthy rich and just plain filthy in the bedroom, or any room, really.

The world of erotic romance is where I dwell so often in my mind. Damsels in distress are no longer acceptable heroines. No, today’s heroines are smart, sharp as tacks in the wit department, strong in all ways, and take-no-shit kind of broads. The majority of these fictional women aren’t looking for love; they seem to stumble upon it. And with that little stumble, they find themselves in the arms of a man.

Not any man will do in today’s erotic romances. He must be alpha, clean to his core. In many of these novels, for some reason, our hero loves to hit women. And they love to be hit by him. And that is where my writer’s brain has found a dilemma.

I can see falling for a big, strong, handsome man. Who can’t?

But falling for one who wants to tie you up and beat your ass while you cook his dinner and iron his clothes, well, I can’t see it at all. BDSM makes no sense to me, and I’m striving to make sense of it. For my career!

I was a writer before I was anything else. I told stories before I could read. I looked at scenes and made up why things were going as they were. Making up stories has always been like second nature to me.

Being only one year away from graduating with a Master’s Degree in Creative Arts at Bangor University in North Wales, United Kingdom, I’m dangerously close to the part of life where I will need to make my own living in this world. Soon to be cut off from my father’s dime, I have to focus, and that means I must have some belief in what I’m writing about, or I will never see my dreams come true.

My dreams aren’t huge. I want to see my name on the cover of books. Oh! And best sellers’ lists as well, of course. I don’t want to be a mediocre writer. I want to be one of those authors who goes the distance to get to the meat of the story, somewhat like a reporter, only I want to get creative with my truths. I want to make my characters, and the world they live in, seem realistic while having fantasy-like lives.

And there is little to no reality in normal women finding men with voracious sexual appetites and a penchant for beating them. So, here I am, searching the Internet, hoping no one ever looks at my browser’s history and thinks I’m a woman of ill repute. I am far from that.

At the ripe old age of twenty-three, I haven’t found Mr. Right. And by that, I mean my cherry is still intact. I’m not a prude, though one might think that. I’m just very into my own head a lot of the time. A writer’s thing, my professors tell me. I’ve been told I’m normal, for a writer.

Socially, I am a bit inept. Sure, I talk with ease to others, part of my reporter’s instinct, I suppose. But I share little about myself, preferring to steer people in directions that allow me to learn more about them, rather than talking about myself.

With a click of my mouse, an awkward picture fills my computer screen. A woman deep throating an enormous penis!

Hurrying to get the picture off my screen, I notice the small writing at the bottom of the page. It’s about some auction that’s about to come up. Only after seeing that do I notice that the link I clicked on that took me to this sexual place belongs to BDSM club in Portland, Oregon, in the States.

Several clicks later, I find out this place is a haven for those types of people, and there are many clubs in that city. It’s the number one city in America to find things of this nature. And it seems like the perfect place to begin my search for people who might be helpful enough to be truthful with me and offer me more insight into the dark world that’s shrouded in mystery.

Another click sends me to a picture of a naughty young woman wearing leather clothing and holding her hand to her mouth as she looks surprised. I suppose she never saw the man coming who’s behind her. Hard to believe, as he has a whip in his hand, and it’s aimed for her round and firm ass. Somehow, he’s surprised her with what he’s about to do.

No fear is in her eyes. No tears from pain. Only a surprised look covers her pretty face. The man wears a firm expression on his ruggedly handsome facade. I can hear him now, in my mind, “Gertie, you have this coming to you. You forgot the salt in my soup again.”

I giggle to myself, as that was an actual line in one of the novels I read, recently. Even then I thought it was silly and dimwitted. If a man told me I was about to get whipped with an actual whip because of something so small and easily fixed with the jiggle of a salt shaker, I’d most likely laugh and walk away. He would obviously be an idiot and not worth my attention or time.

My mind is too strong, and so is my will, to ever be involved in any of that stuff. But it’s such a fantasy for many women that it bears investigating. My first novel in the erotic realm should have more than a grain of truth to it. I want some real grit mixing in with the fairy tale of a story I will create. None of that phony crap!

I wonder if I can find a real Dom or Master to ask questions to. I wonder if any of them would even want to take time away from whipping asses to talk to a lowly, vanilla virgin about things she knows little to nothing about.

Doubt clouds my vision as I sit back and gaze at the next thing that’s popped up on my screen. A couple of women, clad in nothing but black panties, stand with their backs to a whip-wielding man who wears a black mask and looks like he’s about to bring down the rain on them both.

“Run, you morons,” I say out loud, as I notice an open door to their right.

Is it humanly possible to stand still and take the pain of a whip when you’re steps away from escape?

Is it possible that, in some people, the need to feel pain is overwhelming, like a drug addict who hates the after effects of a certain drug but can’t stop taking it?

The sharp eyes of the women as they look over their shoulders while holding hands, waiting for the whip to meet one of their bodies, haunt me. How can they be so bright eyed with pain on the way?

If I see a hot burner on the stove, I don’t touch it. If I saw a man running wildly down the street with his belt in his hand, striking out at people, I’d hide. So why do some seek this out?

And what chance do I have of finding even one of the people who practice BDSM who would be willing to help me understand them? And why would they want to?

I’m offering no compensation for their time. I’m offering nothing. I merely want to satisfy my own curiosity, nothing more than that. I want to use what I’m given to make money, as a matter of fact.

No, it’s doubtful that I will be able to find anyone in the BDSM scene to answer my questions. Perhaps I should end this silliness. Maybe I should put this idea to rest and focus on romantic comedy, instead. That would be so much easier, wouldn’t it?

---

Pierce

Her ass sways as she leaves the room. Strands of leather cover it, and red marks cover the places the straps don’t. After an hour of cuddling my bottom, Tasha, for the evening, she feels safe enough to leave my company in the private room I rented at The Dungeon of Decorum. She wanted no sex, only punishment. And I gave her what she asked for, like any good Dom would.

Relaxing on the small bed in the room made for torturing the flesh of submissives, also known in the BDSM world as bottoms, I can’t help but recall the first time I came here. It was a mere three years ago, yet it feels like a century.

Bogged down in business, I was burning out fast. Being the new CEO of Waterson Mutual, a business finance company in Portland, Oregon, I was trying to prove my worth to the board, busting my ass far more than I needed to. And it was catching up to me.

Grant Jamison became my friend and eventual hero. Older than me by five years, he took me under his wing and taught me that work is great, but one should always leave time for play.

Grant’s idea of play was very different from what my idea was. I thought he was suggesting playing racquetball with him and the friends he talked about. What he brought me into was far more serious than a ballgame.

In the matter of one month, I was inducted into the brotherhood of the Dominants at a local BDSM club, aptly named The Dungeon of Decorum, a place I now visit often.

Being a Dom comes naturally to me, as if I was born to lead, teach, and rule women. At thirty- five, I’ve been told I should be settling down and finding a woman to marry. I’ve been told I can keep my dark hobby a secret and lead a normal life in every other way, but that sounds boring to me.

Being a part of the club I belong to means I can’t divulge any information about myself or any other members. We’re an eclectic group of men, who happen to all be wealthy. With that in common, we all have to hide our secret lives. After all, who would want a mayor, a banker, or a statesman who’s into such dark things?

I was astonished by the faces I saw upon visiting the club for the first time. Men from all over the U.S. come to the club. Auctions are especially busy, as not only men come from everywhere, but so do the women who are auctioned off.

Personally, I’ve never bought a woman. I’ve never had an ongoing thing with any of the subs. I prefer one-time scenes. I follow up with the women I’ve played with for about a week’s time, then it’s on to other things. Things like other women with other needs, fetishes, and desires.

Studying techniques extensively has earned me the reputation for being one of the best Doms if one is looking for an excellent experience in bondage. My kinks are bondage, suspension, cupping, impact play, and power exchange, all of which I am particularly good at.

More than once, I’ve been called driven— in business, in bed, and in my personal kinks. If it interests me, I dive into it head first and don’t come up until I’m saturated in knowledge.

I’ve had three serious relationships in my life. Two of them ended because of my incessant drive. Janet, in college, said I was too into my studies and not enough into her. So, she dumped me.

Leah, my second girl, lived with me when I first started working in the finance world. I had to devote most of my time to work. I wanted to move up quickly. After a year, she called it quits too, another woman who told me I didn’t spend enough time with her.

Tracy was a gold digger who lured me into what she thought might be a trap. It was the first year I broke the billion-dollar mark on my yearly income. The daughter of a grocery store janitor, Tracy wanted more out of life. I asked her to move into my spanking new mansion with me. I showered her with gifts and tried my best to make time for her.

Tracy was one beautiful woman. Long blonde hair with golden streaks hung to her tiny waist. Bright blue eyes spoke to my heart, telling me I’d found an angel. But she turned out to be a demon instead.

Not wanting to get into having a family at that time, I was an avid condom user. When she came to me with a pregnancy test stick that had a couple of lines in it, she told me she was pregnant. With my child!

I’m no idiot; I know condoms aren’t one hundred percent effective, but she had also told me she was taking a birth control shot. Anyone can imagine how I felt: shocked, as well as disbelieving.

Tracy was furious when I took her to a doctor and stayed with her as she took the pregnancy test at the physician’s office. It came back negative, and I knew then and there that the woman was trying to force me into marriage. I had no choice; I dumped her.

And after her, I’ve had no desire to deal with women for an extended period of time again. I’m not broken. I’m just too busy to want to deal with all that comes with a relationship.

At the club, I can find women who want whatever I do at the time, anything from letting out aggression to cuddling and fulfilling that need. And not one of the women I’ve been with since joining the club has asked anything more from me than I am willing to give. A relief is what it is.

No games are played. In our world, we communicate far more than in the normal world, the world with innuendos, cat and mouse shenanigans, and downright lies to get into relationships that are racked with turmoil.

Women have been taught things by society that go against nature. I never realized that until I found the BDSM world. Things like fighting hard to be above men, a thing that’s insane, have been shoved into their minds.

Women and men are different. We were put here to serve different purposes. There isn’t one of us who is better than the other. And one cannot exist without the other. Society has interfered with the natural order of things. And I, for one, am tired of dealing with women who fight nature.

A sense of calmness took me over soon after beginning this lifestyle. There’s no arguing, no manipulations, no flirting to get into a woman’s panties now. That shit is history. In the club, I can go up to any woman I’d like to, as long as she doesn’t belong to a man who prefers her to be with only him, and I can be frank with her. I can tell her what I’d like to do with and to her, and she’s free to accept it or not.

If she’s into it, then we discuss every last detail about what we want to exchange with one another and plan out our scene. The planning is like foreplay. One gets hot and horny while discussing the details. Keeping our hands to ourselves can be hard as we describe what we want. But I prefer to hold back any physical connection until we get into our scene. It builds anticipation and makes for a better session.

A rap on the darkly stained oak door to the private room takes me out of my thoughts. “Come in.”

Grant pushes the door open. He’s got his arm around a tall, lithe brunette with tons of makeup on. “Hey, Pierce, this one here wants someone to watch us. You game?”

I slide off the bed and pull on my black lounge pants. “Sure. Am I a loud member of the audience or a quiet creeper?”

“Loud,” she tells me as I make my way to them. She strokes my cheek as she peers into my eyes. “My, you are a looker. And that body. Mmmm.”

Taking her hand away from my face, as I don’t allow touch until we’re in the act, I let her know, “If you like what you see, we can talk sometime soon about what you need, baby.”

“I need you,” she whispers, making my groin thump.

“We’ll see how well you take what my friend dishes out before you and I talk about what it is you need.” I step to one side and allow Grant to lead the party to wherever he has planned.

Grant winks at me. “Perhaps you could show me your flogging technique on her if she’s all right with that. I’ve heard you’ve developed it so it’s better than most Doms’.”

The way the woman, wearing only a thin, white, silk robe, looks over her shoulder at me, tells me she’d like that.

“Sure, I can show you.”

“I cannot wait,” she purrs.

A growl fills my throat as I think about how she’s about to feel. “Baby, we’re about to take you to the Amber Zone.”

---

Jade

The night is long. I toss and turn most of it. Dreams of whips and chains fill the hours, along with men in dark shadows who call out for me to stop running.

Getting out of bed, I rub the sleep from my eyes and make my way to the shower. My flat is small, and I’m tired of looking at the same walls each day. Summer is nearly here, and I want to go on holiday somewhere, get out of my country for a couple of months and see some other place.

The water’s hot, making steam fill the tiny water closet. Steeping into the standup shower, my body jerks as the heated water hits it. “Ow!” I turn down the heat and make the water’s temperature more compatible with my skin.

Memories of the dreams which plagued me bounce around in my head. In them I was different. I was unafraid, yet not allowing myself to be drawn in by the husky, deep voices of the men.

The plum shampoo smells great and helps to wake me up. After a shot of something with caffeine in it, I should be good to go. It’s the weekend, and I have nothing to do but study for my finals. One more week of school, then I’ll be free.

I’m not one of those creatures who freaks out over finals. I know my stuff, as I pay attention in class and have an honest interest in the subject matter. That always helps.

Turning off the water, I step out and towel off. Throwing on a fluffy pink robe, I wrap the towel around my hair in a turban-like fashion and make my way back into my bedroom. A set of sweats will do for my day of studying and chilling out.

After getting dressed, I stroll out to the kitchen to make some coffee and pop a bagel into the toaster. Taking the cream cheese out of the fridge, I notice my laptop sitting on the kitchen counter where I left it last night.

Before I went to bed, I told myself that I’d forget about trying to find anyone to answer my BDSM questions. The realization that no one would waste his time with me settled into my head.

The dreams have sparked my insatiable curiosity once again and I find myself drawn to the silver laptop. I open it and turn it on. It buzzes and whirrs as it comes to life.

My attention is taken away from the device as the toaster pops up my bagel and I set about pouring a cup of coffee and getting my little breakfast ready to eat. Sitting at the table, I take my first bite and look at my laptop again.

“Oh, what the hell.” I get up and grab it, placing it on the tabletop and typing in the search engine I like to use when doing research.

Tapping in a simple ‘BDSM society,’ I sit back and let the engine find something for me to read while I eat half of my bagel and sip the stout black coffee. A directory of sites comes up on the screen, and I tap the first one. A list appears at the top of the page. The title explains they’re things used to play with. The first item is a spreader bar. The picture looks innocuous enough. But the description says the bar can be made of metal or wood, and it’s used to keep the submissive spread open. It can be utilized on either the wrists or the ankles, and it can even be hung from the ceiling.

“Oh, my!”

Why on Earth would anyone willingly be held in that position?

Oh, well. On to the next thing: medical restraints. A set of four small leather belts is used to hold a person to the bed. I have to ask myself: if it’s all so great, why does one have to be bound to the bed?

Next, I see something called a monoglove. The poor girl has her arms behind her back and is wrapped with a leather glove-like thing. She’s helpless to move her arms. Again, I must ask myself, why?

Not only does it look constricting and uncomfortable, it seems silly to me. Does the Dom need to keep his sub’s hands away from him or something?

Moving on, I find a muzzle gag, a penis gag, and a ring gag; they all look more than a bit uncomfortable. I’m left wondering if I would actually choke if the penis gag was put into my mouth and strapped there. I definitely think I would!

A medieval-looking device is next. It’s used to hold a person’s nose, pulling it backward so their head is pulled back and their mouth opens. It’s called a nose hook, and I really have no idea why it would be considered a sexual device. It looks like a thing one would use to get a child to accept medicine when they fight about taking it.

“Oh! I get it now!” A blush heats my cheeks as I think about being forced to open my mouth and having a man’s cock placed into it.

If I were a man, though, I still wouldn’t trust the object to stop my submissive from clamping down on my dick. And if she has to be forced to accept it, then why’s she there in the first place?

I just keep finding more questions to ask!

Plastic wrap is next on the list, and I see that it’s used to wrap up the sub like a mummy. How inexpensive that is, and how odd that anyone thought of that. I can hear the odd couple now: “Honey, can you get the plastic wrap from the kitchen? I think I’ll wrap it around you tonight so I can have my way with you.”

And the daft woman would run off to fetch the item without a thought in her empty head. No, I just don’t get it at all!

Something called a posture collar is next on this insane list. It’s just like the white collars one wears when they have a neck injury. Perhaps it’s used to aid in the protection of the neck when being beaten like an animal. The woman who has it on looks equally as uncomfortable as any person I’ve seen wearing one because they had to.

So, I am left with more questions than I previously had, and my curiosity is banging on my brain to get the answers it requires. But I close the laptop and try to focus on what I really need to be doing, studying for my finals.

The chair I’m sitting in is made of wood and not comfortable in the least, with its rigid back. Studying goes out the window as I close my eyes and imagine being strapped to the chair with leather medical restraints. A wide posture collar wrapped around my neck makes me sit up straight. A spreader bar holds my legs open and a monoglove pins my arms behind my back. Even the fantasy is constricting and awkward. I open my eyes and laugh as I think about letting anyone do such things to me.

And those things aren’t anywhere nearly as horrible as the whips and chains. My mind is right back where it’s been for the past several months: bondage, brutality, and why anyone would allow that to happen to them. What type of beasts want to do that to someone?

In the romance novels, women easily fall in love with their tormentors. Why?

If a man did even half of the things to me that I’ve read about, I think I’d kill him in his sleep and not have an ounce of guilt over it. To fall in love with such a beastly person is a thing I cannot imagine.

With the first sting of the whip, I’d vow to kill the motherfucker. I’m sure I would. A Dom would have to use a muzzle or gag on me, as I’d threaten his very existence as he tortured me. And when he set me free, which he’d have to do eventually, well, he’d be the one running scared. Of that, I am certain.

Perhaps I’d be better suited as the dominator. But then again, I could never bring myself to hit a person. Hurting someone’s feelings is a thing I hate. Actually hurting someone physically isn’t a thing I could do or condone.

So how am I supposed to talk to a person who actively does these things without judging them?

If I ask a question such as, “How does it make you feel to hit a woman?” and get a truthful answer, then what will I do?

If a man were to tell me that he gets joy out of hitting a woman, then I’d detest him. A man who bound a woman, then hit her and took her sexually, well, he’d be a person I couldn’t stand.

So what the hell am I doing? Why am I thinking about trying to talk to someone who I think is evil? What the hell is wrong with me? And what would my family think of me for even contemplating this?

Sitting back, I try to rationalize my thoughts. Like a reporter, I don’t have to agree with anything when I’m trying to get information. I can ask questions, get my answers, and move on from the monster.

It’s not as if I’m going to ask some Dom to take me on and show me what happens in their dark world. I’d never do that!

My hand moves to the laptop and pulls it open. It’s like my will has taken over as I type ‘BDSM Clubs’ into the search engine. My fingers hesitate as I see the first link to a club with an actual website. It’s called “The Dungeon of Decorum”, and I click it.

Looking over the page that opens, I find a message board and type in Is there anyone in this club who’d like to help me learn more about the real world of BDSM?

Now to see if anyone wants to respond …

---

Pierce

Birds chirp, waking me from a deep sleep. Blinking my eyes to shield them from the bright sunlight that’s pouring through my pale green, sheer- curtained window, I stretch and yawn with the onset of the weekend. With no plans made, I think I’ll make myself a healthy breakfast of oatmeal and wheat toast, then head to the gym. Maybe I’ll just let the day take me wherever it wants to.

Moving to the bathroom, I turn on the shower, letting the steamy water heat the cold tiles. Multiple jets shoot the water out, hitting almost the entire surface of the tiled walls. Padding over to the sink, I brush my teeth, floss, then rinse with mouthwash.

Into the shower I go, pouring an expensive shampoo I found online last week into my palm. It smells like leather and sandalwood, making me feel exceptionally masculine. In no time at all, I’m bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and dry off, then dress in casual clothing. Jeans, a T-shirt, and running shoes will suffice.

Heading downstairs to the kitchen, I find the fridge well-stocked. Edith, my house manager, has made sure I’m ready to cook for myself through the weekend, like I always do. I give the staff every weekend off. I prefer to be alone in my home when I’m off. They come in after I leave for work each weekday and are gone before I come home.

During the week, I take my meals in town. Most of the time, I get home around eight and usually hit the hay pretty early. I’m a faithful subscriber to the idea that early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. So far, it’s worked wonders for me!

After making my breakfast, I take it to the table and open up my laptop to see what’s going on around Portland this weekend. As always, I check the club’s website first to see if any of the subs have posted anything I might be interested in.

The name Jade Thomas is the first thing I see as I scan the message board. I’ve never seen that name on here before. And she’s asked a question.

Is there anyone in this club who’d like to help me learn more about the real world of BDSM?’

“Jade Thomas,” I say out loud. “And what does this young lady want to know, I wonder?”

Without hesitation, I ask my own question, What do you want to know more about our world for?

I begin to eat my oatmeal as I wait to see if she’ll answer me. It takes no time before I see her response. Just curious. And is your real name Dr. Power?

Laughing, I type back, No, we don’t use our real names on this site. But I bet you did, Jade Thomas.

Eating my toast, I watch the screen, eager to see her reply.

That is my real name. What’s your real name? You see, I’m looking for a person who will be honest with me about the goings on in the BDSM scene. If you can’t be honest enough to tell me your name, then I shouldn’t waste any more of your time.

Thinking about the fact that she might be wasting my time, I ask, Where are you from, Jade?

She’s quick to answer, The United Kingdom. If you’re worried about me outing you to society or something like that, you needn’t worry.

“A Brit,” I say to myself. She’s far enough away, I doubt her knowing my real name would hurt a thing. I type in, Pierce Langford.

Thank you, Pierce Langford. First, I’d like to tell you that I’m majoring in creative writing at a university in North Wales. My goal is to become a romance author. I’d like to specialize in the erotic genre. But I need some information about certain topics. Topics like the BDSM scene. I don’t fully understand it. Oh, who am I kidding, I don’t understand it all. Are you by chance a Dom?

I am. Why, you looking for one? I type in.

Purely to ask questions to, nothing more than that. Are you up to answering some questions for me, sir?

Her use of the term sir lets me know she’s a respectful woman. But I should find out how old she is before I give her such information. Before I divulge information that might warp a young mind, I need to know your age and your sexual experience, Jade.

Thoughtful of you, sir. My age is 23, and my sexual experience is limited to masturbation. I am a virgin.

“Holy fuck!”

My mouth’s watering with the thought that she’s a virgin. I wonder what she looks like!

Cool. Not a problem. As long as you’re of age and have an inkling about what kinds of answers you’ll be getting from me, I’m good with answering your questions. So, shoot me one.

An entire minute goes by before anything appears. Is there a private area we can do this, sir?

I think about it for a moment, then decide to give her my personal touch. Do you have a Skype account?

I do. I prefer not to video conference though, if you don’t mine.’

“Hmm, must be an ugly duckling. That’s most likely why she’s still a virgin.”

I type in, Not to worry, I won’t try to video chat with you. My number is 999-987-0099. I’ll be waiting for your message, Jade.

In no time at all, she’s messaged me, and a little ding comes from my phone. I pull it up on my computer to make typing easier and find even her profile picture on the site is nothing but a red rose. I find it funny, as my picture is a black rose with thorns on it.

Hi, Pierce. Do you mind if I call you that? I don’t want to establish a submissive relationship with you and just realized that by calling you sir, I am doing just that.

I chuckle as I write back, You may call me that. So, what’s your first question?

Much too quickly she sends back, Do you like to hit women?

Not happy with the question, I fire back, If this is some hater who wishes to berate me for what I am and enjoy doing, then you can go to hell!

Another quick response comes from her, No! Sorry. Please don’t take any of my questions in an offensive manner. None of them are meant to offend you. All are meant merely to learn about this lifestyle. Nothing more than that. I simply want to know if you took up this practice because you had a fetish about hitting people or women in general.

Letting my anger subside, I give it a minute to settle. She’s just curious. I have to remember she’s young and naïve.

This is not a thing I started because of a need to hit anyone. I was having difficulty at work. I needed an outlet. I was introduced to this world. I joined this club and found that submissives wanted certain things done to them. I took classes and learned how to give them what they asked for. And I became good at it. You see, some people like pain, Jade. Some people crave it. I administer the thing they feel they need. I do it with them in mind. Not for myself.

Three minutes tick by before she sends me another question. Do you have an exclusive relationship with your sub?

I don’t. I never have.

Do you have a commitment phobia? Or anything in your past that caused you to enjoy this lifestyle?

Weighing the question so I can answer truthfully, I finally type, Perhaps I do have a commitment issue. I wouldn’t call it a phobia. And nothing is in my past that’s messed up my mind, contrary to what a lot of people think about us.

How old are you? she asks.

35.

Again, some time goes by before she writes anything else. Then the words appear on the screen. I’d like to be clear on what type of Dom I’m talking to. Are you a heterosexual, Pierce?

I am. Are you?

Yes. I only ask as I want to write M/F romances and spending time talking to a man who likes men would do me no good. Do Doms only dole out punishments? And if not, have you received any?

One can play both ends of the spectrum if they want to. There are no rules stating that once a sub always a sub or once a Dom always a Dom. When I was in training, I was hit by my trainer. That way I would know what it felt like to be hit with the items I was taught to use. But no sub has ever hit me. Nor do I plan on that ever happening. I rule.

The pause she takes is so long, I begin to wonder if she’s decided to stop our interview. Then I see her next question.

Are you the type who wants to rule everything? And if so, why do you not have an exclusive sub?

Her question has me pondering it. Do I want to rule everything? I have no idea. I’ve never done that. The two live-in girlfriends I had certainly needed a firmer hand than I had back then. If I found a woman that I wanted to keep around, I think I’d like to make the rules.

With my answer, I type, Your question is a first for me. I looked deep inside myself and found I would like to rule if I ever found a sub I wanted to keep with me for any length of time. I prefer things certain ways and would train a sub to do things the way I like them done.

Do you feel women are inferior?

Her question nearly knocks the wind out of my sails.

Quickly, I reply, Not at all. You see, most of us in the BDSM world don’t think on those terms. Women and men have their roles to play in life. With the rise of women’s liberation, women have lost more than they’ve gained. Once upon a time, women were the esteemed nurturers of the family, the keepers of the children, the homes, and their husbands. They made sure all things on the home front were taken care of well and were proud of their job. Men went to work and provided money and security, not only in the financial form but also in the protection department. They made and upheld the rules and used different forms of discipline to enforce them.

I give pause to allow my words to sink into her head. With the way things have changed in the last fifty or so years, most women balk at this way of thinking, calling it ancient and useless. I wait to see how Jade will respond.

I’ve never thought about it like that.

A smile moves over my lips. “Good girl.”

---

Jade

Only a few questions in, and already he has me thinking differently. What he says is true. Women had it much easier before we decided we wanted to be equals in all ways. Not so long ago, women stayed home with the kids. They didn’t have to worry about work or paying bills. That was the man’s job.

Nowadays, mothers and wives go off to work and some have to actually leave their homes for days at a time. That’s left a generation of children who’ve been raised by strangers. People who work at the many daycare facilities that have sprung up all over the industrialized world now are responsible for the caring and nurturing of most babies and children that mothers once took care of all on their own.

Women now depend on their husbands to step up and take care of the children too. All chores are shared, and while that seems fair, I’ve seen a good number of frazzled parents in my time. Both are sleep deprived. Both have the weight of making sure the bills are paid on their backs. And both have the responsibility of finding great jobs and keeping them, no matter how much pressure comes with that.

Men’s minds have also been changed. Most men, back in the day, wouldn’t have their wives working. They’d have been considered deadbeats or losers if they sent their wives to work outside the home. Nowadays, it’s expected. And in a few words, Pierce has brought this home to me. How odd that I never thought of it before.

I can see Pierce’s side. Then again, as a woman with a brain that begs for knowledge and gentle pressure to expand and learn more all the time, I can see why women fought to be let out of the house. I have also seen stay-at-home mothers who resemble zombies and have difficulty putting a sentence together, much less being able to have conversations with other adults.

There are pros and cons either way you decide to live. That’s just a simple fact of life.

My next question is a bit hairy, and I hope I don’t offend the man again as I type, I now understand how you think about the sexes. What I don’t understand is where the domination comes into play. Nor the physical punishments that come along with BDSM. Can you explain this to me?

The physical punishments are accepted or rejected by each submissive. It is she who helps shape the agreements that are made between a Dom and his sub. Another thing you must not be aware of is that submissives hold all the cards. One simple word is all it takes to stop anything. It’s not quite the torturous world people make it out to be. And nothing happens to a sub that they’re against. That would be illegal, wouldn’t it?

I suppose it would. So these agreements are the contracts that bind the sub to the Dom? I ask.

They are, he answers me quickly. But you must keep in mind that even a signed contract that’s been painstakingly worked out between the two parties still doesn’t give the Dom the right to proceed with any punishment or action if the sub doesn’t want it. No matter if she agreed to it in the first place or not. And a good Dom doesn’t want to inflict any pain, or pleasure, for that matter, that his submissive doesn’t want.

I find it hard to believe the man. I mean, he could tell me whatever he wants to. Because what woman wants to be ruled over and beaten? So, I ask, Pierce, what types of women want to be treated this way?

There are women from various walks of life who seek this lifestyle, maybe not all the time, but some of the time. You see, when you get into this world, you find that anything is okay. If you want to live this way all the time, then you can. If you want to dabble, you can do that too. There are no set rules, except those that govern our society. SSC—safe, sane, consensual—was put into use to make sure all who are involved in this type of lifestyle have a level of protection. Clubs keep the members in line too. That’s why it’s always a good idea to join one and only get involved with people who are part of one. There are enforcers who make sure no one is hurt beyond the point they’ve asked to be. If you’re interested in being an onlooker, you can join a local club in your area and let them know what you want. We have voyeurs too. But I must warn you, it’s not easy to watch if you have no idea about what the people truly feel. It looks brutal, after all.

That it does, Pierce. And about that. You said you were hit when you were training to be a Dom. Can you explain why anyone would want that?

While I never got to the state of euphoria, I’ve heard it described as flying. It’s a high that one gets when endorphins swarm the brain. At that point, when you add in sexual stimulation, it’s mind blowing. Some have described it as an out-of-body experience that took them to new levels in their minds and souls. You can see how one would enjoy that and seek it over and over again.

Yet you’ve never done that? I ask, as I have no idea why he’d want to only inflict pain and get nothing out of it.

I’m more of a giver than a taker. Always have been.

You make it sound noble, what you do, I type.

In a way, it is. Can you imagine if you had this itch in the middle of your back and you tried everything to scratch it yourself—rubbing your back on the door frame, trying to find a stick long enough to get to the exact spot you needed it to, but you couldn’t reach it, no matter what you did? Then along came some person who could easily scratch that itch for you, but he didn’t want to inflict any type of pain on you. If you think about it, running one’s sharp fingernails across another person’s flesh sounds painful. Yet it eases the itch, relieving the person of their problem.

“Wow!” I say to myself. “This guy’s kind of deep. I didn’t expect this.”

He goes on, adding, A doctor also causes his patient pain on many occasions in order to treat an ailment. Does anyone consider him immoral?

My mind is swarming with more questions, yet I feel as if he’s winning me over to his way of thinking. So, I ask, When you’re hitting your subs, do you get sexually stimulated? I ask this because a doctor doesn’t get turned on by giving his patient pain. Nor does anyone get turned on by helping someone scratch an itch they can’t reach.

Time goes by, and I think he might be trying to figure out how to word his answer. Finally, the screen lights up.

Jade, you ask exemplary questions. The fact is that I do get turned on by what I do. Feminine screams and moans make my cock hard. But if you’d like to know the truth, your questions have stirred an erection too. You see, the libido is an odd thing. When you’re young, the slightest breeze across your dick can make it go hard. As we get older, other things cause sexual excitement. A soft whisper uttered into an ear, a touch from a beautiful woman, a stimulating conversation between strangers. I bet you’re a remarkable young woman.

He seems to be flirting, which has me nervous for some reason. It’s stupid. The man is thousands of miles away from me. He can’t do a thing to me and here I am, fidgeting in my seat, my nipples beginning to pebble, and heat filling my crotch.

I type, How are you able to seduce me so quickly?

Are you wet for me, Jade?

My heart pounds as I type back, I seem to be.

Run your hand into your panties, Jade.

His simple command has my hand moving without me thinking about it. I feel the heat radiating from my vagina. Then I use my right hand to type, Perhaps you could take your enlarged cock into your hand, Pierce.

It’s already there, he lets me know. Run a finger into that virgin hole of yours. Pump it a few times and say my name as you do that.

My cheeks heat as my pussy goes wet and I do as he’s told me to. This is not me! This isn’t a thing I’ve ever done!

But no one can see me, and no one will ever know I did such a thing. So I pump my finger and say his name out loud, “Pierce, Pierce, Pierce!”

His name rolls off my tongue as my eyes close and I keep going until the sound of another message comes in. I open my eyes to find he’s written, Now use your other hand and pinch the shit out of your nipple and hold it there even though it hurts.

I look at his words and wonder why I’d do such a thing. The fingering feels nice; the pinching won’t. But for some odd reason, I push my shirt up and pull my bra up too, then pinch my nipple with my right hand while I finger myself with the other and let out a shriek. Not of pain, but of something else. Pure bliss. Pure and unadulterated pleasure.

My God. How has he corrupted me already?

---

Pierce

Ugly duckling or not, this young female has my cock aching for her. And she’s a virgin, to boot! I wonder if there’s a chance in hell that I could get her to let me see her face. Or more of her, for that matter!

I type in, Jade, it’d be nice to watch one another as we do this. I’m going to end this message and video call you. Answer when I do.

No, don’t do that. It’s not that I don’t want to see you or you to see me. It’s that the camera on my laptop is broken. And this is getting out of hand anyway. I never meant to start a dual masturbation thing with you. I need to go. I’m suddenly very ashamed of myself.

“Shit!”

I type in, No, don’t go. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You said yourself that you’ve masturbated before. So what if you happen to be doing it while I am and thinking about me as you touch yourself? It’d sure be nice to add a face to what I’m fantasizing about. I’m picturing your ruby red lips wrapped around my cock. Are your lips ruby red, Jade?

I rub myself as I wait for her to respond.

They happen to be pink at the moment. No lipstick on right now. Nor any makeup. Pierce, am I weird for doing this?

No. I let her know with one flat word.

People and their unending need to justify what they do to others is an annoyance to me. I’m sure the girl is alone, and no one has a clue what the hell she’s doing. And here she is wondering if she’s weird.

Weird would be her not doing it, in my opinion!

Do you have a dildo? I ask her, to get her out of her own head and back into what we’re doing here.

How personal!

Yes, it is. Much like you asking me if I get my rocks off when I give a woman the abuse she asks for. So, do you have one or not?

Maybe, she writes.

Jade, I’m not a man who takes a lot of crap from people. Answer the question forthrightly. Or I can end this correspondence with one finger.

I have one. What should I do with it, Pierce?

“That’s better,” I say with a sigh.

Get it and put it where you’d like my cock to be, my love.

Can you please refrain from saying words like love? I know you don’t love me. I don’t want this to get to that level. Ever!’

“Damn!” I groan at her mouthy reply.

I type in, How about baby, then?

I suppose that’ll be okay. I’ll be right back. I have to lube it all up. What color is your hair?

“Whatever color you want it to be, baby,” I say out loud as I type, Brown.

It takes her a while to get back to me, and I stop rubbing my cock as I wait for her. I’ve never done this shit before. This is new to me. It’s a little weird, and I wish like hell I could actually fuck her. I wonder if that will ever be a possibility.

Brown? How long is it? she writes back.

My hand begins to move on my cock again. Short on the sides, long on top. Long enough you can run your hands through it. Your hair color?

Black. Shoulder length. I just got it cut.

I like long hair, so I type, Let it grow. I want to braid it when you come to me. Now tell me what you long for, Jade. Long walks on the beach, or hot nights in the sheets? I laugh as I use the corny-ass line.

Come to you? she writes.

Fantasy play, baby. Just go with it. And do you have that dildo going?

I do,’ she sends me. And I think I’d like to see what it’d be like in your sheets, Pierce.

Really?

This is a fantasy, remember? she types back.

Mentally, I scold myself for being so quick to type that. What an amateur!

Just seeing if you were paying attention. Okay, I like to fuck hard. Push that cock into your sweet cunt. Is it vibrating?’

Oh yeah,’ she writes. And you want me to do it real hard, don’t’ you?

Real hard. Slam my cock into your hot pussy, baby. Slam me in there until you’re ready to pop, then stop.

I wait, stroking my cock as I think about my real cock going into her tight virgin canal. Man, I want her!

I’m on the edge. Now what? she sends me.

The grin that forms is something I’m sure looks sadistic as I type, Place that cock in your mouth and taste yourself, baby.

No fucking way!

DO IT! I wait and wait.

After about three minutes, she sends, Oh my God! I did it! And I kind of made out with the vibrator. Oh God! I’m sick, aren’t I? Oh, don’t bother answering that. I know I am. I need to go. You have me doing terrible things. Bye.

You’re not sick, Jade. Fuck, stop being such a prudish baby!

I am a prude, aren’t I? Her words echo in my head. I’ll never be an erotic or even a comedy romance writer. I’ll most likely write boring articles for the newspaper and live in a house full of cats. Sorry to have bothered you.

Sitting up, I hurriedly type, Don’t end this! Please, don’t. Jade, I’d like to talk to you more. I really would. I’m the kind of man who likes to see dreams come to fruition, much like in the scenes I create with the subs. And damn it, I want to create something for you. How about a scene where you’re already a celebrated author of erotic romance? A cool, sultry vixen you are. At your first awards ceremony, I escort you to the podium to accept your award as the best writer in the universe.’

This is silly, she writes back, but I’m happy she’s still there.

No, it’s not. Help me create it. What are you wearing to this awards ceremony?

I like myself in black. Most of my clothes are black.

What color are your eyes? I ask her.

Brown, well, a kind of golden brown.

I see you in a yellow, flowing, nearly see-through dress. It billows out behind you as I hold you by the waist possessively. The world thinks you’re mine, and I’m proud to be at your side as you take the stage. Your creamy thighs make brief appearances through long slits in the dress as you glide over the tan marbled floor. And then a tall, elegant woman, wearing a short, tight, red dress, hands you a crystal trophy. Your name is etched in the crystal: Writer of the Year, Jade Thomas. And then you look into my eyes.

She asks, What color are they?

I’m glad to see she’s getting into it and type, Blueish brown. Hazel is what they’re called. When you look into them, I can see your depth. You have honesty and courage, and I’m lost in your gaze. The people are all cheering, and I turn you to look at them, then slap your ass, making them all cheer. You blush and drop your gorgeous head. I take your chin with two of my fingers and make you look up and tell you how perfect you are.

Then do we kiss? she asks, and I can almost feel her breathless question even though it’s only written words.

Our mouths make slow progress to the others. Our lips touch and heat builds inside of us both. Then my tongue eases through your lips, taking your tongue, making it submit to mine. I move my tongue around yours in a dance that sends it into a frenzy of lusty need as I cradle you in my strong arms.

Ahem. So in this little fantasy, other than the slap on my ass, what else occurs in the punishment department? she asks.

I feel she’s too into the punishment part of what this is all about and admonish her quickly, Jade, I didn’t ask you to ask me questions. I told you to add to the fantasy what you wanted to. You have to quit acting as if this is about punishment all the time. If you want me to take you by the neck with my belt and haul your sweet ass off stage where I throw you up against the wall and take you right there on the backstage, then say that. DO NOT ask me what I’ll do to you! This is your fantasy. Tell me what you want. Do you want me to pull your dress away from your breasts and take a flogger to them as your fans watch? Or would you like to be a bit more discreet and have me escort you off stage then take you to your dressing room and bend you over the chair you sat in when they did your hair and makeup and smack your ass until you cry, then shove my cock into your wet pussy?

Damn! is her reply.

I tell her the same thing, Damn, is right. Your mind is narrow where BDSM is concerned. You’ve formed your opinions on the trash you’ve read in those stupid little novels. Here in my world, things aren’t always glowing brightly in the sun, but sometimes they are. All is not dark. All is not sinister. And all is not as the fairy tales lead you all to believe. Pain is a part of life, and when one finds it can be turned into pleasure you could never get anywhere else, it becomes addictive. Don’t judge until you’ve been there, Jade Thomas!

You’re right, Pierce. This was a mistake. Bye.

NO!

I wait and wait, but she’s gone. She’s really gone. And I’m left feeling emptier than I’ve ever been …

---

Jade

Chills fill my body as I lie on my bed and wonder why I just did what I did. Why in God’s name would I allow myself to jump into such a thing with a Dom? Am I insane?

Looking at the closed laptop that’s sitting on the edge of my bed, I wonder if Pierce is frantic about losing touch with me or could not care less. I’m sure it’s the latter.

I’m a silly girl, a naïve person who took on more than I could handle. The man took me over so quickly. I lost control of everything— the interview and my body. My mind was lost somewhere in that time too.

Rolling over onto my stomach, I pull a plump pillow into my arms and snuggle with it. I didn’t get to have an orgasm, and that left me feeling frustrated. But I have to admit I’m more than sexually frustrated. The way I ended things was abrupt, and the idea of loose ends needing to be cut spins around my brain.

Letting the pillow go, I open the computer again and see he’s left one more message after I ended our discussion. Jade, please contact me whenever you want. I feel you need my help. I’m here for you. Anytime. Sorry about moving too fast for you. And sorry about spoiling your interview.

Closing the laptop, I lie back and try to picture the man. He said his hair is brown, short on the sides and long enough on top I could run my hands through it. His eyes are hazel, and I bet they’re soulful. The way he communicated wasn’t what I’d expected. He did get dominating a few times. It seems to be his nature, not an act.

Bringing up the itch that one can’t scratch has me thinking that some people must get an idea in their head about acting out things that others would find frightening. I’m reminded of the time my parents took me to a theme park in France. There was an enormous roller coaster, and I was afraid of it. You could hear the riders screaming in terror from all over the park. Yet I wanted to ride it too.

As we stood in the long line, waiting for our turn, I recall being so afraid I almost left the line. But then a surge of adrenaline would flow through me, and I’d grow excited about doing it. In the end, the ride was scary but fun, and I did enjoy it.

So I sit up on my bed, cross my legs, and pick up my laptop to see if Pierce really meant what he said. I type, Sorry for the rude behavior. I was out of my comfort zone. Did you really mean you’d still like to help me?

Yes, comes his quick reply. And please accept my apology. I moved far too quickly. So, ask me anything you want to.

I smile as I look at the screen, wishing I could see his face but not daring to ask that of him. Not after what I pulled. So I type in another question, Are people actually auctioned off?

They are. There are four different auctions at our club, as well as times when different groups gather there. I belong to the heterosexual group where men are Doms and women are Subs, or tops and bottoms. We don’t use the other terms much anymore. The other three groups are women who are the tops and men who are the bottoms, then there are the lesbians, then the gay men. It just makes things easier to keep us all separated. And all groups do have auctions.’

If purchased, does the person have to stay with the person who bought them? And for how long? I ask, then get up to go get myself a bottle of water.

When I get back and climb onto my bed, pulling the laptop onto my lap, I see he’s answered, Auctions are done with the time limits stated in the contracts the people sign. There can be nightly auctions, weekly, monthly, and I’ve even seen one that was for one year. The most common are weekly. During that time, it’s up to the individuals if they stay together or meet at the club in private rooms or whatever they want to do. It’s all up to them. But money is exchanged for the purchase. And the person who’s auctioned off gets a percentage of that money.’

“Prostitution,” I whisper. Then type, Isn’t that illegal?

The clubs pay taxes, so no, it’s not. And the auctioned subjects are called entertainers in the contracts. The contracts are worded much like hiring an actor.

But aren’t there sexually explicit things in many of the contracts? I ask, as the ones I’ve read about are very explicit.

Yes, but things of that nature can be legal. Think about the porn industry and how they’re paid to do what they do. And that’s all legal, mostly, because they pay their taxes. Where the government is concerned, it’s all about the money.

“The wicked dollar,” I say out loud. I need to put the financial thing to the side and focus on the other questions I have. Have you ever paid for it?

My dues to the club are all I’ve ever paid. The women I’ve met at the club are given money to be there. So, inadvertently, I’ve paid. Did I just lose your respect, Jade?

Not entirely, I answer him. But I am intrigued by the money factor. Women are paid to allow you to hit them. And now I have a much better idea of why some of them do this sort of thing.

It’s really not about the money. I don’t think it is, anyway. There’s a long pause, then he adds, I think I’ll ask a few of the women I’ve been with if that’s a big factor in why they do this. You really are an excellent interviewer. You make me think. I like that.

Happy with having him like me, I type, It’s odd to me, the way you make me feel. I just got a rush out of making you happy.

As you should. It was born into you, Jade. As a woman, making people happy is a basic instinct. If a baby cries, it normally triggers a woman’s instinct to find out why it’s crying and do what she can to make it stop. She wants the baby happy and healthy. It makes her feel good.

I see what you’re saying, Pierce.

So you can understand why some women in BDSM like to cater to their Top or Dom? It makes them feel good. And as the Tops, we want our bottoms to feel good. That means if we take on a submissive for an extended period of time, we take care of the bills and the making of the rules. We take that off her back so she can do what she wants to. Make us excellent meals, take pride in the laundry and how clean the house is.

I laugh and type back, See, you lost me there. I and many other women don’t get our rocks off by folding laundry and cooking. I’m a pretty terrible cook. My only culinary skills are in the sandwich department. And I can nuke a mean frozen meal.

You’re single, right?

I am. I live alone. I have for the last five years, I answer him.

No one to cook or clean for, baby. If I was coming home to you every night, I bet you’d like to have me a clean home to come to after a hard day’s work. I bet you’d enjoy learning how to make me a home cooked meal. Did your mother cook for her family?

Mum cooked, yes.’

Did she act like she was put out about doing it? Or was she proud of what she served you all?

She took pride in her meals most times. I shake my head, as he’s turned things around in my head again. So you’re saying that I don’t fully understand things of this nature because I live alone. I have no boyfriend whom I could cater to. So there’s no way I can understand this at all.’

Pretty much. You should get yourself a man, Jade.

Truthfully, I reply, There are none who interest me at this point. Picking up just any guy wouldn’t have me experiencing this euphoric state of being a homemaker, Pierce. Nor would handing my body over to just any guy, either.

Tell me what you look for physically in a man, Jade.

You’re going to laugh, but here it goes. I like muscles, tons of them. I’m average height at five feet six inches, but I want a man to tower over me. He should be over six feet tall. And he should be extraordinarily handsome. I’m pretty hard to please, you see. I laugh as I wait for him to tell me how spoiled I am or something of that nature.

There are men like that, Jade. Keep your eyes peeled. You’re not asking for too much. And on that note, what are you doing to make yourself attractive to this fine specimen of manhood if you ever cross paths with him?

Looking at my sweatpants, which are baggy and the equally baggy shirt, I look into the mirror that hangs above my dresser. No makeup covers my pale skin. I need to get out into the sun more. My hair is hanging in limp strands, doing nothing to help my appearance.

The ding tells me he’s added something, and I read his words, How about the crotch area? Do you keep it nice and tidy or is it a bushy nightmare? You should think about how accessible it is. If you meet Mr. Right, will he need a weed whacker to get to your juicy goods or is it readily available for his snacking pleasure?

Pulling the elastic band of my sweat pants, I look down at the unkempt area and shudder. Um, I think I need to step up my game. Not that I ever had one, I write.

You should get on top of that. You should groom yourself just as much as you find attractive on a man. If you’re out of shape, do something about that. Eat right, exercise, do what you need to in order to be in the kind of shape you want in a man. So, how bad off are you, Jade?’

I’m a good weight for my frame. I could use some toning in the muscle department. I do have a problem with clothing. I can never pick out good things to wear. My weekend garb is most often sweatsuits, and my daily wear is jeans and pullovers. A raggedy pair of sneakers rounds out my ensembles.’

I tell you what. Give me your measurements and your address and I’ll send you some things. I’ll need your shoe size as well. And I happen to have an excellent regimen for shaving that leaves your skin bump and ingrown hair-free.’

Shaking my head, as I just don’t understand this man, I type, Why would you do all that? It’s not as if we’ll ever meet. And if we did, I wouldn’t be the girl for you anyway.

Just let me help you, Jade. I want to. It’d help a lot if you’d send me a pic. Not a nude one. Just a full body picture with something on besides frumpy clothing. So I can get an idea of your body type and pick out clothes that would look good on it.

Are you some kind of a professional stylist, Pierce? I ask him as I laugh and scroll through my cell to see if I have any pictures of myself.

No, but I know what I like, and think I can be of service to you. So, are you going to send me a picture?

I find one that isn’t too awful. It was taken before I cut my hair, though. If you’ll send me your phone number, I can text one to you.

756-666-0097.

K, I’m sending it now. And how about you send me one of you? Just so I can put a face to your name.

I send the picture of myself and soon after, get one of him. A gasp comes out of me as I look at the hot man. He looks tall as he’s standing next to a bar. He’s in a black tux which fits him perfectly. He’s a big guy. Very well-muscled under those clothes, I bet. And his eyes look as soulful as I thought they would. Although not cheery or sweet, he wears an expression that says he’s well aware of who he is.

Then I realize that I’ve told him what I find attractive in a man and he must’ve gotten this photo off the Internet and sent it to me as himself. What a jerk!

Is this picture really of you, Pierce? Because you can be real with me. It’s not like we’re ever going to meet anyway. If you’re short and plump, that’s okay, you know.

The picture is of me. That was taken last week at a fundraiser. And may I tell you that your bone structure is breathtaking? You need more sun and need to learn how to dress for the curvy figure you have, but you have potential to be a great beauty, Jade.

Even though he can’t see me, I blush with his words. He thinks I have potential to be a great beauty!

---

Pierce

Thump goes my cock as I look at the picture she sent me. Long black hair shines in the sunlight as Jade stands in front of a pond, smiling at whoever took the picture of her. A long black skirt that goes to the ground and a white blouse, buttoned all the way up, cover her curves. Delightful curves that beg to be accentuated.

“Oh, but you have promise, my little beauty,” I mutter as I gaze at her.

Though her face is pale, it’s gorgeous. The slightest bit of a tan is all she’d need to be perfect. I cannot wait to buy her something to wear that would suit her. A dress, I think. Maybe in a lavender shade to highlight the natural blue hues in her dark black hair. Her eyes shine out with a happy innocence, and her lips are plump. Ripe for the kissing!

I type, You and I should meet.

A long time passes. Too damn long. But I hold out for her to answer me.

Pierce, I went to the bathroom. Sorry that took so long. I see your little message here and have to let you know that I’m not going to become one of your bottoms. I have no desire for that at all. I do, however, love talking to you. We could have an online thing. I could get my camera fixed on my laptop, if you know what I mean?

My body tenses as I think about only having her through a camera’s lens. I’m afraid that will never do. I use tactics to make her jealous. I’ll have to get my physical needs met by someone here, I guess.

I assumed you would anyway, she responds.

Not what I wanted at all!

I could have my jet bring you to me, Jade. I wait and chew on a pencil. I’m never this tense about something like this!

I can have any woman I want. And my wants have been all in one area for the last few years. And they still are. But I want to bring this little young thing into my world and make a place for her in it. I think her curiosity about BDSM is a thing I can shape and sculpt into a reality.

If she wants to write about things of that nature, isn’t it better to have lived them?

No, thank you, Pierce. I do appreciate your invitation, though, she finally sends me.

“Damn!”

Typing furiously, I send, I could come to you.

Her response is quick and to the point, My flat is tiny, and I have neighbors on all sides. I’m quite sure if you came to me and we did the dirty deeds you surely have in mind, the authorities would be called and on my door step before you were through with me.’

I have to laugh and shake my head. She’s witty. I have to give her that. But I have a remedy for that situation. I’d get us a hotel. A very beautiful one. I’d wine and dine you before I showed you what you’ve been missing.

Such a fantastic liar you are, Pierce!

Slamming my fist on my desktop, I roar, “Fuck!”

She has no idea who I am or how much money I have. I could be with her in mere hours, holding her, caressing that pale skin of hers, and showing her what it means to feel the sting of my whip.

My cock thumps again as I think about her hanging from ropes attached to the ceiling, naked, except for the cord that crisscrosses her body. I could send her mind to a place it’s never been, a place she never even knew existed.

Can I make a video of a submissive and me to show you how it is in reality, Jade?

That might be great, actually. Would you really do that for me?

I laugh and say to myself, “I think I’d do anything for you, Jade.” But I type, I would do that for you, if you would consider seeing me sometime in the near future.

Pierce, I’m not into pain. Now, if you’d like to meet and have drinks and see where that leads, I might be into that. But as far as getting into your world, no, thank you.

Drumming my fingers on the desktop, I think about my response, then write, I want you to work out your fantasy and write it all down for me. Then I’ll find a woman who wants to play it out. We’ll play out your scene, Jade. You’ll see how erotic it is to make a whole scene up. And I encourage you to use ropes, whips, paddles, and maybe some hot wax too when you write your scene.

I have no idea where to start with that, Pierce.

With a sigh, I find myself enthused that she and I will write the scene together. I will write it with you then. We can work through the night to get it hashed out. Are you up for that?

Only a short pause is made before she answers, I am up for that. Let me grab some lunch. Then I’ll get back on here, and we can do that. Okay?

Okay, I’ll be waiting.

Not hungry yet?’ she asks.

Not for food. I laugh and lick my lips as I look at her picture again then say to myself, “But for you, I’m ravenous, Jade Thomas!”

Before I go, can you give me an idea of how we’ll be writing this?

I ease back in my chair and type, Jade is kneeling outside my playroom door, waiting to be dominated for the first time. Her body is covered only by thin lines of black leather. One line covers the nipples of her pert breasts; one line runs between her legs, hiding her sweet box. And one line joins them. Her body is pink with excitement and nervous energy. An energy she will give to me, her Top. I will take that energy and transform it into pleasure the likes of which she’s never experienced in her life. How does that sound to you so far, Jade?

Damn, Pierce! You’re good at this.

So I’ve been told. Go eat your lunch, then take your clothes off and climb into your bed, and we’ll get going on this project. You’ll most likely want to bring that vibrator with you. Things get pretty steamy when discussing scenes. I’d hate for you to leave this conversation sexually frustrated.

Me too. This is so crazy! But I’m going to do it, Pierce! God! Be back soon, naked and ready to make up some sick shit.

Her words do anything but satisfy me. I don’t want her to think of anything we do as sick or twisted. I want her to open her mind and see it for what it is: beautiful and mind expanding. Her life will be changed by the end of our scene. She’s unaware of the seed I’ve planted in her mind. The seed will grow and grow until she’s begging to see me. I have no doubts about that. None, whatsoever!

---

Jade

Curtains closed, lights dimmed, vibrator on the nightstand next to a bottle of lube, and I think I’m ready to get back to Pierce. If he’s even still waiting for me, that is. I can’t help but believe that this is too good to be true.

I went online to search for some answers and somehow ended up doing some kinky shit with an actual Dom, or Top, which he said was the latest term. Now we’re about to write a scene, as it’s called in the realm of BDSM. Wow!

When I open my computer, I see he hasn’t sent me a thing, which has me a little worried that I’ve gotten my hopes up for nothing. And then my mind comes back to reality. I’ve let him drag me into a fantasy world!

Staring at my computer screen, I see our back and forth messages and have to wonder how I got to this place. The screen blinks, and then I see Pierce has written something.

You’re back.

I guess it came up that I’m back online. And now here I am, caught. I could close the computer. I could walk away and stop all this insanity. But deep inside I want to know what this scene writing is all about. So, I type, I am. You still want to do this with a lowly, vanilla virgin? I’m sure to disappoint you.

I highly doubt you will. And I’m your guide through it all. If you disappoint me, that’ll be my own fault for not teaching you correctly. I have my pen at the ready to write down your ideas. Have you thought about what you’d like me to do to you?

I’ve thought of little else for the last hour while making and eating a ham sandwich. Thoughts of ropes, whips, paddles, and other things I deem wild. Another ding has me looking at my computer to find he’s written, Anybody there?

I’m here. Just nervous and thinking I’m being dumb about this whole thing.

You said you want to be an erotic author, Jade. This is just writing.

Fuck. He’s right, and I know it!

I type back, Okay, let’s get going on this then. I think I’d like to hear what you’d suggest to a newbie who’s a virgin.

Let’s pretend you aren’t a virgin for this, shall we? he writes. If I can ever talk you into anything for real, I plan on fixing that little problem promptly anyway.

I squirm on the bed as I get more comfortable and giggle at the thought. Even though I don’t believe the man in the picture he sent me is him, it’s still rattling around my brain that a guy like that one would be my first lover. It’s just too crazy!

Okay, Romeo, so in this scene, I’m a mature lady with miles of sex behind me. A real sex maniac. And I’m looking for some tough love. I stop and laugh at the idiotic words I’ve written.

Seriously, Jade. This will be so much better if you act like it’s really going to happen to you. Are you ready to stop playing around and get to it?

Damn, he is bossy!

I type, I’ll get serious, Pierce. So where would we go from here?

I left you kneeling at the playroom door. You have on bits of black leather, and I’m wearing loose-fitting black pants and nothing else.

Do you have defined abs? I ask as I move my face closer to the screen as if I could see him.

A full six pack and some perfect pecs that I work on daily. My biceps have been called monstrous. And I’m about to use my powerful body to bring yours into a state of complete submission.

K, I write back, as I’m having trouble breathing. The thought of him, whether it’s true or not, is making me hot.

Striding past you, I make my way to a couple of long ropes that are hanging from hooks on the ceiling. I will tie your body with the ropes, suspending you off the floor at a horizontal angle at just the right height so I can fuck you once I’ve got your endorphins buzzing.

Oh, I write as my heart races. And what can I do for you?

You can accept my rule over your body. You can allow me to play with it and make it do things you never dreamed of. I would appreciate you also letting out howls or moans.

So, pretend you hear me doing that then. In real life, I’d most likely bitch him out if he actually walloped me.

I will keep that in mind. Once I’m at the ropes, I will call to you to come to me. You will do so with your head bowed. And do you know why you are bowing?

No clue, I admit.

You are doing it because you want to. Not because I’ve told you to. You’re already getting prepared to transfer your energy to me by keeping yourself wrapped up in a neat little package until I untie you. Get it?

Um, I’m being calm and untalkative as I’m saving up my energy for what’s about to happen. Is that close?

Very, and I have to commend you on figuring that out all on your own. You are a very good girl, Jade.

Thank you, I say, and feel a little bit of pride. I don’t know why I do. The man just talked to me like I’m seven years old!

Okay, once you get to me, I will instruct you to hold out your arms, which you will do with no hesitation because you’re a good girl and know you can trust me with your body and your mind. I wrap one of the ropes around your arm, making sure that weight is distributed in such a way that you’ll feel weightless. The ropes will almost cradle you. Do you believe me when I tell you that if you let your mind soar, you will feel the way I’m describing?

I do believe that. I’m kind of on pins and needles as I wait to see what’s next.

Good. Limb by limb, I tie you up until you’re completely suspended as I described before. Is this all working for you, Jade?

It is, I answer.

If anything isn’t, you must let me know. This is supposed to be your fantasy, but since you’re so out of touch with this kind of thing, I’m helping you. You will soon be able to come up with your own ideas. You’ll see. And then you and I will make scenes together. And that will be something.

Sure. For this time, please go on.

Once I have you completely strung up and at my mercy, I’ll taunt you. You’ll be in a relaxed state as the ropes hold you, and I’ll end that by moving the ropes in such a way that your body will swing, taking you away from that ease of mind.

Why? I have to ask. Why not allow me to feel comfortable and safe in the ropes?

Because that’s no fun. You’d soon fall asleep, and where’s the fun in that?

Oh, you’re most likely right. Go on then.

I’ll swing you, and you’ll begin to feel vulnerable. Your mind will fill with the idea that you might fall. You won’t, though. I’ll tie you in such a way that you could struggle for hours and still wouldn’t fall.

Or set myself free, I add, as the thought occurs to me. I will be at your mercy as you stated before.

That you will, Jade. Back to our fantasy. I’ll swing you around and add in some more torment. An occasional whip will crack around you, but it won’t touch your flesh at this time. It will sizzle through the air and make your nerves buzz with the anticipation of the sting your flesh would feel if I accidentally hit it. But I won’t. Only your brain will not allow you to have that much faith in me at that time. You will be afraid. And you might even shout obscenities at me, which I’ll ignore and continue with what I’m doing.

And you won’t want to punish me for shouting at you?

No. It’s not as if you can control that action. Not when you’re new to this kind of thing. I’ll actually be delighted to get a great reaction from you. But my face won’t show it. If you look at me, if I allow that, I might wear a mask. That’s one thing you have no control over. Your Top can wear a mask if he so desires. But what would you like, Jade? Mask or no mask?

Um, how about you don’t wear one? ’Cause that picture of you is hot, and I’d like to look at that handsome face. I pick up my cell and look at the pic he sent me again. He is yummy!

No mask then. For this, I’ll let you decide. But only for you, Jade. Now, I’ll continue to snap the whip around until you stop swinging. You’ll buck in the ropes in a vain attempt to escape at that point.

You sound sure about that, Pierce.

Because I am sure. You’ll be cussing and shouting at me to let you down, and I won’t do it.

Unless I say the safe word. Which is?

Red, but you won’t do that at this point. You’d miss out on the best part.

And that is?

Feeling my cock inside your tight pussy, Jade.

I gulp, then type, Oh! So, go on. I’m nearly panting with his words and feel so hot, I toss the blankets off me.

I suppose this would be a good time to let you know the words that will work on me. Red means stop, completely. That will shut it all down. Yellow means ease up. And green means you’re screaming like you’re about to give up, but you’re really not. I’ll ask you throughout the scene for the color you’re feeling at times. You’ll answer accordingly. Understand?

I do. So, I’m bucking and trying to get free while screaming at you and calling you a cocksucker, just so you know. I giggle and wonder if he’s laughing too.

Such vulgarity, Jade. Naughty girl. Now I’ll use two more ropes. These will secure you like a hammock, not allowing much movement to occur so that I can safely hit your body without you jerking around and making the paddle fall on a part of you that would really hurt you.

Paddle, huh?

What would you prefer?

There’s this short whip thingy with lots of soft looking strands. I think that one would be okay.

A flogger, then. I can use that. And just so you know, that makes a thud on the body. A light thud, but still a thud. The longer I go, the more your ass will feel. Or would you like me to use it on your breasts? Or both your ass and your breasts?

Hell, go for it, use it on both, I type as I laugh. It’s not like this will ever actually happen anyway.

I think it will. And what’s more, another woman will be subjected to this scene. Keep that in mind, Jade.

Oh yeah! Um, the ass only, please.

Ass only it is. And I’ll limit it to ten strokes since you’ll be new at it. Once I’ve finished that round, you’ll be panting and maybe even crying a bit. That’s normal. So I’ll leave your ass alone and start fucking around with your tits. Small clamps will come into play, I’ll lick and nibble your breasts until they’re as hard as they can get, then I’ll clamp them. It’s the kind of sensation that sends endorphins flooding your body. You see, when women breastfeed, their nipples become highly sensitive. That first pull from a baby’s little lips hurts like a motherfucker. Hence why nature gave you the natural reaction to that kind of unpleasantness.

Oh, that’s clever, Pierce!

It is, isn’t it? So, on to the next step. You’ll be kind of wiped out at that point. Your body will be somewhat numb, and your head will start to get a bit loopy. And that’s when I’ll introduce you to my massive cock. All nine inches of the fat thing will penetrate your cunt. You will suck in your breath and try to move, perhaps wanting to touch me or hit me. One can never be sure at that point.’

But you’ll leave me bound, and I’ll only be able to watch you fucking me, won’t I?

That’s right. You’ll watch me use your body for my own pleasure. I’ll say nasty things to you. Try to make you mad at me.

Like what? I ask as I reach for my vibrator. I lube it up and turn it on, rubbing my clit with it as the idea of Pierce fucking me in any way at all is arousing.

Things like you’re my whore. I own your ass. Your pussy belongs to me. Things like that. And I’ll keep doing it until you agree that you belong to me. Then I’ll let you know what a hot, great cunt you have and how it was made for my dick. And then I’ll pull out, leaving you panting. You will beg me for more, and I won’t give it to you. I’ll place my cock on your lips and tell you to kiss it.

“Shit!” I moan as I push the dildo into my pulsing pussy. “This guy has me on fire!”

Which you do as you look me in the eye. You take it in your mouth and lovingly lick and suck it. By the way, read up and watch some videos on how to give a blowjob, Jade. I can’t wait to feel your mouth wrapped around my cock.

Um, okay. Will there be a test? I ask, laughing a bit at my joke.

Yes. When you have my cock in your mouth, that’s the test. So, I begin to skull fuck you and you’re making exquisite moans and groans. Then I pull my cock out and walk away, leaving you hanging.

Why would you do that?’ I ask as I stop pushing the dildo in and out.

To let you cool down a bit. You’re getting too hot and bothered and will orgasm too soon. I want this to last a while. Don’t you?

Sure.’

I pull the dildo out and wonder what he’s going to do next.

This guy is like a sexual guru or something. I wonder if all Doms are like him or if he’s exceptionally good?

---

Pierce

With our scene finished, after a long night of editing it to perfection, I’ve come to the Dungeon of Decorum to find a bottom who might want to do this with me. If I can find someone, then I’ll pay for a video to be made in one of the private rooms and share it with Jade. I have my fingers crossed that she’ll see what actually happens and accept my invitation for her to come for a visit.

Before we ended last night’s conversation, she told me she has the next couple of months off from school. She could come to me if she decided to. I threw in the enticement of getting a remote cabin for the summer and said that I’d take a vacation too. We could spend the entire time together, finding her limits.

She’s still nervous, just as most people who first start this are. I did tell her how much of a better writer she’ll be if she took this on. Her mind would open so much more, and she’d have personal knowledge she could use to create better stories.

Grant sees me and waves as I come into the poker room. “Over here, Pierce.”

I make my way to him, grabbing a couple of cocktails off a passing waiter’s tray. Placing one of them in front of Grant, I take a seat next to him as he’s waiting for his turn at one of the poker games. “Evening, Grant. How’s your weekend coming along?”

“Pretty good. I can’t complain. Earlier, I had a threesome with a couple of girls who’re about to leave this all behind them and go work in Las Vegas as showgirls.” He pulls the short glass to his lips and takes a sip.

“Cool. I’ve found a little prospect. A young woman, studying to become a writer. She and I met when she asked a question on the message board of our club’s website.”

Grant smiles at me and claps a hand on my shoulder. “So, where’s she from and when will she be here?”

“The U.K., and I don’t know if she’ll ever be here. She’s not into this scene. She’s also a virgin.” I watch his face lit up.

“Wow! So, I know you plan on reeling her in. How will you do it, Pierce?”

I catch a woman eying me as she walks into the room. I’ve caught her attention and give her a smile and a small wave. “She and I made up a scene last night. I want to find a woman to do it with me and have it videoed. I’ll send it to my girl and see if that doesn’t intrigue her.”

“You already got her to make up a scene with you? That’s moving pretty fast there with a woman who hasn’t been into the scene. But I guess she was looking to get into it. Or she wouldn’t have asked a question on a BDSM club’s message board.”

“No, she wasn’t looking for that. She wanted to ask questions about the lifestyle. She’s clueless. But she has more of a clue now. And I want to teach her much more.” I watch the woman as she gets a drink and slowly makes her way toward me.

“You do realize that means having more than one time with her, right, Pierce? You’ve never done two scenes with anyone so far.” Grant looks over his shoulder as the woman approaches me.

With a nod, I say, “No, I never have, and I’ve already offered her two months of my time, starting as soon as the end of next week. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me.”

“Two months?” he asks as he shakes his head. “In your home?”

“No, in a remote cabin where she can feel free from onlookers. I can tell she’s worried about what people think.” The woman holds out her hand, and I take it, kissing the top. “Dr. Power, Madam.”

“Mystic is what they call me,” she introduces herself.

“If you’ll be so kind to excuse me,” I tell Grant. “I’ve got to talk to this lovely woman about my idea.”

“Good luck, Dr. Power,” Grant says with a raise of his glass.

Taking the raven-haired beauty by the hand, I lead her off to a quiet spot where I can sell her on my scene and see if she’ll be all right with me calling her Jade and wearing a lace mask to help Jade see herself in her role.

Fingers crossed!

---

Jade

The email Pierce sent me has an attachment. A video. It’s Sunday night, and he seems to have already gotten a woman to do our scene with him. He’s a fast mover, but that shouldn’t surprise me at all.

He sends me a message through Skype, asking me if I got his email. I type back that I did and will watch the attached video then get back with him. He sends back that he’ll be waiting patiently for me and tells me I should know that he only thought of me as he did the scene.

“Yeah, right!” I mumble as I open the attachment.

I ate lunch with an older woman who came back to college after getting married and having kids. Sara is a no-nonsense kind of woman, and she told me I was most likely being catfished. She said that’s when someone pretends they’re more than what they say they are. And she cautioned me that BDSM is really bad.

Sara knew a lady whose second cousin was married to a man who knew a guy who was into that type of stuff. He would beat the hell out of unsuspecting women all the time. He was a real lowlife, like what men in that world are really like. I acted as if I took in her words, but I just couldn’t believe her.

Her opinion is based on some pretty far reaching information. She couldn’t even recall the man’s name. So, I haven’t decided to shut Pierce out just yet.

Getting the video up, I get ready to watch some shoddy footage of some guy, most likely not Pierce, if that’s even his real name. As it starts, I notice how dark it is.

A gasp bolts out of me as flames blast onto the screen and a title page is there. The Dungeon of Decorum presents, Pierce and Jade in: The Tale of a New Submissive.

The production is of high quality, I must admit that. But it’s only the opening. I’m sure it’ll go downhill from here. The scene goes to a woman kneeling beside a dark door; her hair is black, almost like mine. Her head’s bowed, but I can see she has a bit of lace covering her eyes.

The camera pans out to move along with a pair of men’s bare feet, black pants flowing loosely around his ankles. Then it pans up his body slowly, and I can’t breathe.

It’s the man from the picture but way better looking. He moves with a grace I’ve never seen a man move with. His eyes look into the camera, and then he says, “Only for you, Jade.” His voice is deep, somewhat raspy, and sexy as hell.

“Damn!” I moan. “Could he be real?”

I’m mesmerized as he walks past the woman, just like he wrote he would. Then he turns as he gets to the two long ropes that are hanging from the ceiling of the dark room. The recessed lights are dim. “Come,” he says, and the woman gets up and goes to him, her head lowered.

He begins to tie her up and does a great job of it, making it look seductive as he binds her in the ropes. She seems to be floating above the floor, languidly.

My heart is racing as I watch him and only him. If that’s Pierce, I’d be a damn fool not to go to him. He’s magnificent!

The ropes start to move as he pushes and pulls them. The woman is jostled, but she doesn’t complain the way I think I would. Instead, she takes it all in stride, probably because she knows how it all goes.

I kind of feel sorry for her as I’m sure this scene is lame compared to what she’s used to. The whip starts popping, and I watch Pierce’s abs flex with each crack of the long instrument. Now the woman’s body is beginning to sweat, I see, as it glistens in the light. So the sound of the whip does make even someone who’s been around the BDSM block a time or two grow nervous.

A flash of light puts a spotlight on her, and Pierce moves around, securing her with the other two ropes, creating the hammock-like thing he told me about. But she doesn’t wiggle or say she wants to be set free.

Instead, she seems to be patiently waiting. Pierce pulls the thing he said was called a flogger off the wall and goes to her. He moves the whip in a circle eight motion, making sure to hit her ass cheeks back and forth only ten times.

I watch her flinch with each one, so I know it hurts some. But she doesn’t scream or anything. He stops, and I freeze as he pushes the elastic waistband of his pants down, revealing an enormous cock that’s erect and ready. He looks at the camera again.

“This is you, Jade.”

“Oh, shit!” I say as I put my face closer to the screen. “Oh, God!”

Her pussy is hairless, I can see that as the camera moves in for a close-up shot. And then I see his cock go into her and I go wet as I watch him thrust into her.

Now she’s moaning as he says, “You’re my whore. Your body is mine. You hear me, cunt?”

The woman moans, but doesn’t answer him. He goes at her harder and more furiously. “I’m going to fuck the shit out of you, then do it all over again. Your ass will be sore from my whip, and your cunt will be sore from my cock.”

More moaning from her, and I join in as I watch him use her body to stroke his cock, and she does not hate it at all. She moans, “Yes, I’m your whore.”

With that, he gives her ass a nice smack then says, “You are my whore. My sweet little whore who will do as I say all the time. Because she wants this cock in her pussy more than she wants anything.”

“Yes,” I moan as I fidget on the sofa, so uncomfortable as I watch him fucking her. That could be me!

He pulls out of her and pushes the leather off her breasts, then begins to fondle them, and I’m shocked to feel my breasts aching. I run my hands over them, trying to pretend it’s his hands on me. Then he starts licking the shit out of one of them, and the camera moves up close.

I’m panting right along with the woman as he licks her nipple, then sucks it hard, and I feel the wetness pouring into my panties. With a slow, tantalizing loop of his finger around her taut nipple, he puts a clamp on it, and even I scream when he does it.

The woman goes loose in the ropes. I think she may have passed out. And that’s when he moves his hands all over her body, stroking it with soft touches, which he explained would be feather-light. Then he moves his mouth to her glistening pussy and begins his assault on her.

I’m quivering as I watch him devour her. She’s moaning as he licks her over and over with a flat tongue. I’m shaking with need as he goes on and on. Then he stops licking just as she starts to make a high-pitched moan.

I think she was about to have an orgasm and he stopped it. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand then kisses her stomach as she moans, “No, please. Please let me cum.”

He smacks her ass, then goes to work on her other nipple, kissing, sucking, and licking until it’s erect and he clamps it too, making her scream again. And he looks at the camera with a sinister smile on his face. “Come to me, Jade.”

I have to get up and pace around a bit. This is unreal. Like, this shit doesn’t fucking happen!

When a loud cry comes from the computer, I look back at it and see he’s at her crotch again, licking, sucking, and then he’s putting his hand on her stomach, pulling her skin back, and it’s making her clit come out. He taps his tongue to it, making her scream again. “Fuck! Let me cum!”

He gives her another smack and moves around behind her. This is where he torments her ass, making her think he’s going to put his finger in her asshole, but he doesn’t, ’cause I told him I wasn’t up for that just yet.

But she wants it, and that’s obvious as she begs for him to put his fingers into her asshole. It’s kind of gross to me. But she must’ve done that before because she really wants it.

His lips press against her stomach as he looks into the camera. “Jade didn’t write that into the scene. No ass-play tonight.” He moves around her, entering her pussy again and making her moan like crazy as he fucks her with some seriously hard thrusts. He goes on and on until she’s quivering, then he pulls out and walks up to her face, placing his juice-soaked cock to her lips. “Taste yourself on my cock, Jade.”

She eagerly opens her mouth, and he slips his erect cock into it. I gasp as she sucks it and he takes her by the head, moving her back and forth over his dick, making her take it at the pace he wants, which is a moderate speed. And they look into each other’s eyes as they do this.

Suddenly, I realize I’m not breathing at all as I watch this, and take a deep breath to replenish my oxygen. My head feels a bit light as I know that could be me he’s skull fucking.

Pierce groans and pulls his cock out of her mouth; a droplet of pre-cum bubbles up from the tip and rolls down the shaft. He stopped before he orgasmed, and I find that incredibly selfless of him.

“It is time for the finale, Jade.” He moves back to her pussy that’s shiny with wetness. Putting his mouth on her again, he really goes to town, and she’s moaning in a sweet agony. An agony I can see myself being in if I actually go to him.

I sit back down as I watch him take her with his mouth. She cums and screams as she does, then he stops eating her out and fucks her again, making the orgasm go on and on. There’s no denying that she’s in some kind of an altered state as he doesn’t let the orgasm stop and she’s writhing in the ropes.

“Yes! God! Yes!” she screams, and Pierce just keeps on pounding his cock into her until he makes a magnificent groan. I can see the thick wetness of their combined juices on his cock every time he pulls out of her. Then the lights go out, the scene is over, and all I can hear is Pierce saying, “Jade, please come to me. I need you, and you need me.”

I’m fucking spent, just watching this shit. It’s just too much!

I haven’t even had my first sexual experience yet. I think that might kill me!

I fall back on the sofa, panting as if that was me. My heart is racing; my body is on fire; and he wants me to do that for real?

No way!

I can’t. I cannot go to him. He’s some kind of a sexual demon or something. How in the hell can he make me feel like this from so far away? I’ve never even met him, and here I am falling all over myself for the man.

None of this makes any sense. I need to stop it. I have to. For my sanity, I must tell him I no longer want to talk to him. So I lean forward, resting my elbows on my shaky legs and pull up Skype and tap in what he needs to know, Pierce, that was much too intense. This isn’t what I’m into. It would kill me, I think. From just watching, my heart is pounding like it has never done before. Sorry for wasting your time.

I close my computer, not feeling up to having a conversation with him right now. In my state, he’d have me reneging on my decision to leave him alone.

I can still write my books. Sure, they won’t have the depth of what they could if I had first-hand knowledge of BDSM, but that’s okay. Hell, the author of those books that went to film didn’t have any first-hand knowledge either, and look how far she got.

No, I’ll be okay without that. I’ll be better off never knowing Pierce Langford in person. I’m sure of that!

---

Pierce

I can’t believe my eyes as I read what Jade sent me after watching the video of our scene. It had the opposite effect on her!

I can see she’s gone offline and it infuriates me for a moment, until I realize that I have her phone number. Picking up my cell, I call her obstinate ass. It rings and rings, then I hear her voice.

“Pierce?”

“Jade,” I say, then sigh as I’m relieved she picked up. “Baby, it’s so good to hear your voice. It’s just as sweet as I dreamed it’d be.”

“Pierce, I can’t …”

I cut her off. “Please, Jade. Don’t make hasty decisions. That scene won’t be done right away. You and I will make love first. We’ll get to know one another and do normal things when we first get together. I promise you that.”

Her warm voice is laced with curiosity as she asks, “Was that really you?”

“It was,” I answer her, and run my hand through my hair. She has me on pins and needles. It’s got me pacing as I talk to her. “Jade, you can trust me. I will never do anything you don’t want me to. I will never push you past anything you aren’t ready for. You and I will discuss everything in explicit detail. Nothing will come as a shock to you. Please, Jade. I’ve never felt such urgency for anyone. Not ever!”

“Perhaps that’s only because I’m not jumping up and down to do what you want.”

“Perhaps you’re right. I have no idea. I only know that you’ve consumed my thoughts for the last two days and my dreams last night. I look forward to sleep tonight since I’ll find you there.”

“Pierce, how can I know I’ll be safe with you?”

“Jade, you’ll have your cell with you. If I do something to hurt you or make you afraid of me, then you can simply dial 911, and the police will find us and put me away.”

“I’m still unsure if this is something my parents would approve of,” she says, sending a flash of anger through me.

“Are you twelve? Do you think you have to let them in on every little detail of your life? Do you honestly believe that they would let you in on their sexual escapades? Be a grown up; trust your intuition. You’re talking to me. You must have more than a bit of curiosity about what I could do for you.”

“I do have that,” she confesses. “But I have a ton of fear too.”

“Have you never done something you were afraid of?” I ask her, knowing full well we all do things we’re afraid of.

“Of course I have. But this is my body I’m putting on the line. That and my sanity. I was mentally involved in that video you sent me. I put myself in the woman’s place …”

I interrupt her, “As you should have. I meant for you to get into it and out of your own head. And you did. You never heard her cry out for me to leave her alone, did you?”

“No, she quite liked it,” she agrees.

“She did. And she asked me afterward if I ever thought I’d like to go further.”

I hear a gasp. Then Jade asks, “So you’ll be seeing her again?”

“Is that jealousy that I hear quivering in your voice? Because one who cares nothing for another person has no jealousy. Your tone tells me more than your words ever could.”

“Well, you are asking me to come spend a couple of months with you exclusively, are you not?”

“I am.”

“Then you must expect that we might find more than mere sex that will bloom between us, Pierce. Dare I remind you that love could be found?”

“Love?” I ask, then chuckle. The poor, little naïve thing!

“Yes, love, Pierce. I’ve never been in love. I’ve never had sex, and I could fall in love with you. I know I could. So, in the vein of being honest, that’s what I’m more afraid of than anything else. Falling in love with a man who has walls built around his heart. For you must have them if you have sex with women you care nothing for and never have any more to do with after your encounters.”

I sit with a solid thump on my bed and think about what she’s said. She could fall in love with me, and that could hurt her. She’s right. And now I’m left with nothing.

“I need to be honest with you,” I say as I pull at a thread on the blanket covering my bed. “I’m not afraid of love. I am, however, not in the market for a girlfriend.”

“And spending a couple of months with a woman, any woman, Pierce, would be just like having a girlfriend, or a wife, for that matter. And now my wheels are spinning because I’ve found something I can do for you. I can test your limits, Pierce. I can push your commitment boundaries while you push my sexual ones.”

I’m not sure if I want that. But then a bright idea pops into my head to make sure Jade decides being my girlfriend, or worse, my wife isn’t a thing she’d want to be.

“Okay, let’s do that, then. We’ll have a 24/7 exchange of power for the matter of two months. I’ll have a contract drawn up, and you can sign it online before I send the private jet for you. You’ll bring nothing with you. As my woman, I’ll take complete care of you. And you’ll dress the way I want you to. I’ll purchase everything you’ll need.”

“So you and I will play house for the summer?” she asks.

“You and I will definitely play house, and I’ll introduce you to life with me as your husband. A list of rules will be sent to you so you can read over them and understand what I demand in a wife. Is that what you want, Jade?”

“Yes, it is. Now I feel as if I can be as useful to you as you’ll be to me.”

“Great,” I mumble as my mind whizzes with what all I’ll have her do as my ‘wife,’ and we’ll see if she falls in love or runs away once our two months is up. I’d bet on the latter!

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To be continued…

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This story will be published in May