© Copyright 2003
This is a story about a sexual FANTASY written for consenting adults. If you're not both of those, don't read it. Characters in a FANTASY don't get sick or die unless I want them to. In real life, people who don't use condoms and other safe-sex techniques do get sick and die. You don't live in a FANTASY so be safe. The fictional characters in my stories are trained and experienced in acts of FANTASY - don't try to do what they do - someone could get hurt.
If you think you know somebody who resembles any of the characters here, congratulations. This particular story is about one of my loyal readers. None of the events, however, have taken place in real life. Any similarity between any of the other characters in this story and any real person is purely coincidental, since all of those characters are figments of my dirty little imagination.
This is my story, not yours. Don't sell it or put it on a pay site. You can keep it and/or give it away with all of this information intact, but if you make money off of it, you're breaking the law and pissing me off.
"You said in your emails that you met online." I asked "Is this the first time you've met in person?"
She sat at one end of the sofa, arms folded under her modestly sized breasts, while he sat at the other end, leaning away from her on the arm of the sofa. From their body language, it wasn't a promising start.
They both nodded and shot each other embarrassed glances.
"You were wise to meet on neutral ground," I continued, "and to enlist the help of an experienced person before embarking on this journey."
My smile did no more to break the ice than had the glasses of wine that sat untouched next to each of them. Well, it WAS kind of an awkward way to meet.
"I understand from your emails that neither of you has played dominance and submission games before?"
Two more silent nods.
"Then let's start at the beginning. Shea..." she gave up her contemplation of the dust on her shoe for a moment, and I continued, "What is your safeword?"
"Ah, I, well..." she flushed red, embarrassed.
"Ok, Shea, you don't have one yet. Dennis?"
He too turned red and shook his head.
"Do you know the purpose of a safeword? Shea?" I asked in my best classroom voice.
"T-to protect the submissive from doing something she really doesn't want to do?" she didn't sound too sure of herself.
"That's one reason." I turned to the sandy-haired, slightly built Dennis, "Can you think of another?"
He thought for a while, but shook his head.
"Listen carefully, then." I lectured, "The safeword, by not being used, lets the top know he's NOT exceeding the bottom's limits. No matter what else the sub says, no matter how much she pleads for mercy or screams bloody murder, unless she uses the safeword, it's all part of the fantasy. That's particularly important when the two don't know each other well, as in your case."
I turned back to Shea. "A safeword needs to be something that you would not normally say while in pain or in the throes of passion. It must be something - a word or phrase - that you can think of and use quickly even when in dire straits. You should each choose one now."
Dennis looked confused. "Why do I need one? I'm the top!"
I met his gaze coolly and his eyes dropped. "On this property, there is only one top! I agreed to teach the two of you, and there's no better way for a dom in training to understand his sub than to be one for a little while, got it?"
At his embarrassed nod, I turned to the brunette. "By the same token, if you want to truly understand your role as a submissive, you should take the dominant role for a little while, see yourself through the other person's eyes."
Shea looked a little non-plussed, but nodded.
"I have a rule about safewords, however." I held each one's gaze for a few seconds before continuing. "The bottom who uses his or her safeword will be punished severely, each time he or she uses it!"
They both gasped, but I continued, "Can either of you think of a reason for this?"
They thought for a while, then just as I was about to break the silence, Shea's face lit up.
"Of course!" she practically bubbled, "If the bottom is allowed to use the safeword whenever she feels like it, she's in control, not the top! So by punishing her, or him, for using the safeword, you ensure that they only do so when they really mean it!"
I smiled at her, "You get an 'A' for the course! Now, before we move on to something else, I want to know your safeword. Shea?"
She cleared her throat, tossing glossy brown hair over her shoulder, "I, um, I guess, uh... Oh! I know! Woodpile! Yeah, that's it! Woodpile!"
I nodded and repeated, "Woodpile. Dennis?"
"Oh, hell, I don't know!" he muttered, "How about dog-dish?"
I shook my head, "Probably not the best word you could use. In some humiliation scenes, you might wind up eating from a dog dish. Pick something that's not likely to come up in any sexual scenario.
"Crap, I don't know! Ah, Banana Slug?" he looked dubiously at me.
"Can you remember to say that, even under extreme duress?"
He nodded, and I repeated, "Banana Slug."
"Now I need to learn a bit more about you." I even sounded pedantic to me! "You should each listen to the other's answers so you'll get to know what the other's all about. I'll start with Dennis."
"Um, ok." his nerves spoke for him.
"Tell me why you want to do this." I was a little nervous about him too, and I wanted to get a feel for the kind of person I was dealing with. "What is it about dominating a woman that turns you on?"
He cleared his throat before answering. "Uh, well, it's just the idea, you know? I mean to be able to make a woman do whatever I want just really turns me on!"
"So, is it about having power over another person," I prompted, "or is it about her willingness to do what you want?"
He thought for a few moments, then said, "A little bit of both, I guess, but mostly it's just having control over a beautiful woman. I don't know."
"What will you do with that control?" I tried to keep my voice neutral, but I was getting a bad feeling about this.
"Pretty much anything I want, right?" He wasn't even being flip! He was serious as a heart attack! "I mean that's what being in control is all about."
I watched Shea's mouth drop open from the corner of my eye, and signalled her to keep quiet. I wanted to make sure she knew why I was about to do what I was about to do.
"What about your partner's needs?" I asked in as neutral a voice as I could muster.
"Well, if she's a sub," He shot back, "then that's what she gets off on. As long as she keeps me happy, then we're cool!"
"And you, as top," I fed out a little more rope, "don't have any responsibility toward your sub?"
"Well," he waffled, "I mean, I'd stop if she used her safeword, but like you said, she'd get punished if she did! I don't think she'd use it much after that!"
He sounded like he was trying to impress me, and he was, but not in the way he thought.
"Ok, Dennis, that's all I need from you," I stood and motioned for him to follow me. "Let me take you and get you situated. Shea, if you'll wait here for a few minutes, I'll be right back. Ok?"
I blindfolded Dennis and led him down to the dungeon by a circuitous route. Czar, one of my wolf-malamute mix dogs followed in our wake, while his brother stayed to keep Shea company.
"Go ahead and hang your clothes on those hooks over there." I instructed as I removed his blindfold.
He was a little self-conscious about undressing in front of me, but managed to get it done without too much blushing.
With his slender build, pale skin, poor muscle tone, and light coloring, from behind he looked almost like a pre-pubescent girl.
I'm no Mr. Universe, but I keep myself in shape with weights, martial arts workouts, and working around this place, so compared to this guy, I might as well have been King Kong. I manhandled him into the stocks, over his protests and ineffectual struggles. Locking him securely into place, I lubed a medium butt plug and shoved it unceremoniously into his ass. When he screamed, he sounded like a little girl.
"Oh, shit!" he cried, "Banana Slug! Hey, Banana Slug motherfucker!"
These stocks were built low to the ground so that their occupant had to be on his knees, ass exposed, while head and hands were locked into cutouts in the board. I walked around to his front end and asked mildly. "Are you SURE you want to use your safeword right now?"
I pulled the oiled, knotted strands of a well-used cat through my fingers in front of his face. I had removed my shirt and my biceps and chest showed to advantage through the tight singlet I wore.
"Fifty lashes with this little toy is your alternative." I continued.
He swallowed hard, and realized at the same time that his ass wasn't hurting quite as much as it had at first.
"Uh, never mind." He mumbled.
"Very well." I kept my voice calm, as I let the other shoe drop, "However, there's still the little matter of the disrespectful way you addressed me. In the future, you will call me 'Sir', not 'motherfucker'. For your first offense, the punishment is ten lashes. If you fail to address me properly in the future, the number will increase by five lashes for each infraction. Now prepare yourself. This will hurt."
"Wha? Wait! I didn't know! Please!" He begged.
.... There is more of this story ...