Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, BDSM,
Desc: BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A young country girl comes to the big city and finds her darker side. Murder, meyhem, mob and intrigue. A BDSM Romance
Mrs. Alex Wilson wasn't a stupid woman, but right now she was having serious doubts about the exact level of her intelligence. She had been walking down this trash-strewn deserted street in a rundown part of the city for more than 20 minutes and the building numbers just weren't changing very fast. What she had assumed was only going to be a walk of a block or two had been four blocks so far and now looked like it would be at least another four or five blocks before she found the specific street number she was seeking. The longer she walked, the further she was getting from the relative safety and security of the main thoroughfare. She hadn't had much of a chance to start any closer, however, as the city buses stuck to the main roads.
It was a testament to her determination that she kept on walking, despite her misgivings and growing uneasiness. It was 10:00 on a weekday morning and Alex stuck out like a sore thumb in this seedier industrial part of town. She was wearing her Sunday best, not knowing exactly who she was going to meet, if anybody. Her silky print dress, the bright one with the tiny little blue and yellow "Forget-Me-Not" flowers on a white field reflected the bright sunlight. The reflecting light gave her an angelic glow as she walked down the gloomy street, though she seemed unaware of her striking appearance. Her sensible shoes, her nicest flats, clicked loudly on the concrete, echoing off the solid stone walls of the buildings that lined the sidewalks. Twice so far she had turned around to see if anyone was following her as she heard her own steps echoing behind her. She had not seen anyone behind her, in fact, she had seen no one at all, but Alex couldn't shake the growing feeling she was being watched.
White cloth gloves with a lace ruffle clutched her white leatherette purse to her chest. It wasn't clutched to her in fear, but in embarrassment, sort of. She had decided, at the last minute, to wear her combination slip and bra with the dress, rather than her usual sturdier undergarments. She hadn't worn this slip since her honeymoon, and it really did look better under the dress. It didn't support her like her other heavier bras did and the subtle bouncing of her breasts embarrassed her to no end. Only Harold had ever seen her breasts bounce around and that was when he had her do a 'hootchie' dance for him one night last month. Secretly she had been pleased he had gotten so excited watching her boobies bouncing around, but their unrestrained motion still bothered her. This morning her nipples were clearly visible, too, and that was another reason she was carrying her purse like a shield. Her other bras were thick enough to prevent them from showing so obviously, but what she was wearing now just wasn't up to the task.
A white pill-box hat with a blue rim set at jaunty angle completed her outfit. The white hat set off her red hair nicely, though it wasn't really necessary. Her lustrous hair was her best feature, she thought, and she spent hours every day brushing it. It wasn't Lucile Ball red, that orangey color that looked like it came from a bottle. It wasn't a dark red or brunette with red highlights, either, but somewhere in between. It was definitely red but not the hue typically associated with a hot temper. Hot sex, maybe, though that suggestion would have made Alex blush fiercely.
She still wasn't used to all the attention the men in this new city gave her. Those men lucky enough to have caught a glimpse of her wouldn't have disagreed that her hair was a nice feature. But her best one? To a man they would have said it was her body. When pressed, however, there would have not been any agreement on specifically why they thought that. There wasn't any one part of her body that was more outstanding than the others, but none of them were anything to sneeze at. Her breasts were normal sized or maybe a bit larger and very firm, but nothing outstanding, like the whoppers on the women that Harold was always staring at in his girly magazines. For the casual observer, it was hard to tell what their shape and size truly was, as Alex tended to "dress down" to de-emphasize that part of her body.
Her ass was well rounded and pert, but again, nothing to draw attention away from anything else. Those boys from her high school who had seen her in a bathing suit would have argued perfection or nearly so, but Alex avoided tight-fitting clothes so not many people had a chance to see for themselves. Like a fine wine, Alex had improved with age.
Her legs were long and shapely, but not exaggerated. Her waist was thin and her tummy flat, but still, just about what you would expect. All in all, she was very well put together, but seemed neither ashamed nor aware of her attributes.
To her family and the few friends she had, her bright green eyes captivated your attention, drawing you to her with dancing amusement. Her intelligence and curiosity were evident in those expressive eyes. She always seemed to be laughing inside, too, and when she wasn't hiding her mouth and nose with her hand, you could see a persistent smile, sometimes impishly teasing the corners of her lips. Her face was usually devoid of makeup, part of the reason the women in her new neighborhood tended to be jealous of her. She had a naturally striking beauty without any artificial coloring or enhancements.
Alisson 'Alex' Wilson had been married for only 9 months. Her husband, Harold — not Harry! — was an accountant for a local Accounting firm and was several years older than she was. Actually, he wasn't a certified accountant yet, so most of his jobs were more bookkeeping than accounting, but Alex knew that one day he would make it. It was just a matter of finishing his degree -- well, actually, he had to start taking the courses first, but that was going to happen as soon as he could get his next promotion -- and then he could get certified. Which Harold said was almost automatic. Harold had such big plans!
She had graduated from the county high school last June, ranked third in a class of 27 when Harold had come into her little town. She had dated a little in high school, but most of the guys there were more like her brothers or cousins and it didn't feel right. Besides, with all of the chores everybody had after school and during the summer, there wasn't much time for socializing. These days, the survival of their farms and their families depended on everybody pitching in and working hard. Alex had not been looking for an escape from her life, but what with graduation and falling madly in love with a mysterious older man, Harold, her life had been turned upside down.
Harold had proposed to her on their third date and they were married in a small ceremony before the local Justice of the Peace. Only her mother and two of her best friends had been able to attend. Everyone else had had to help with the first harvest, but they sent their best wishes. Alex wasn't disappointed, but Harold was surprised at all the produce they received for wedding gifts. It was as if he had expected money or something. Folks in these parts had big farms and were considered millionaires because of the property values, but money was always tight.
Alex had been a virgin on her wedding night, a fact that Harold had not expected nor appreciated. Alex had known what to expect as her mother and aunt had prepared her, but even then she was disappointed. It was over so fast and really, she couldn't see now what all the fuss was about. Harold had got on, grunted, rolled over and snored. Big deal. She didn't let her disappointment show, however.
Daddy was thrilled when Harold agreed to help on the farm. There was sort of a mix-up, because Harold had thought he would just handle Daddy's money. He wasn't prepared to handle the pitchfork Daddy handed him. Harold didn't last an hour.
Harold was also surprised to learn that the farm wasn't going to be broken up between Alex and her older brother. Farmers had learned that lesson the hard way a long time ago. The land stayed intact and in the family. Alex' brother, away at college getting his Ag Degree, was getting the farm. Alex wasn't getting anything and didn't expect it.
Two weeks later Harold had decided to get 'a real job, ' as he put it and moved his new family out of state to a small apartment in a big city. There was no question that Alex would move with him, even though she was needed on the farm, as wives were supposed to support their husbands. Since the move, Alex had been trying to make the small two room apartment a home for them, but time was beginning to weigh heavily on her hands. She was not used to having so much idle time and Harold didn't want her to work.
In his newest job, the third new job since they had moved, Harold traveled across a 5-county area doing the books and payroll for several small businesses. His travels kept him away from home four nights a week, two nights to the north, home on Wednesdays, then two nights to the south and home for the weekend. In a way, his schedule was what brought Alex to this part of town. She was looking for one of businesses Harold visited on Wednesdays when he was in town.
Blushing even now as she thought about why she was here, Alex couldn't suppress a soft sigh. She knew she was not experienced sexually, having had no experience prior to Harold other than watching the animals on the farm during their mating seasons. Watching barnyard copulation was different than actually doing it herself and she had been a bit disappointed in the experience. However, she had noticed that recently, about once a month, Harold would come home on Wednesday evening and, well, the best way she could describe it was that he 'ravished' her.
He would be more forceful and demanding than usual, asking her to do new and, for her, imaginative things. He had even had her touch and stroke him with her hand one time. She had felt so naughty and tingly doing it that she wasn't even that disappointed when he rolled over after he had messed in her hand and started snoring softly. Alex had lain there for a long time that night rolling the sticky residue between the tips of her fingers, reveling in its texture and smell. It never crossed her mind to taste it.
The anomaly of her new husband's Wednesday night behavior had been quickly apparent the following Saturday night. It was back to normal with Harold and when it came to sex, Harold was clearly uninventive, unimaginative and uncaring in his love making. Not that Alex would ever dream of complaining or of discussing anything so personal with anyone for comparison -- not ever her mother! -- but even as inexperienced as Alex was, she could tell that Harold was, well, pretty dull in the bedroom. Downright boring, in fact. He was so predictable, that with only a couple months' experience Alex had noticed the odd pattern of the Wednesday night's behavior.
Alex had been raised since birth to please her husband to the point of suppressing her own needs and desires. She had come to assume that that meant sexually, too, as it never seemed there was anything for her when he was pounding away on top of her. She didn't mind when he was forceful. In fact, that was what had drawn her to him in the first place. He had been so forceful on their first date, touching her titties and stroking her behind. She hadn't been as shocked as she had pretended and when she had gone to bed that night, she found her panties were still soaked.
She had no idea if her mother was ever satisfied by her father, but hearing them in their bedroom late at night or on Sunday afternoons hadn't been difficult. Her mother had, from the sound of it enjoyed it more than Alex was, but apparently, it wasn't important enough to discuss with her daughter. Her mother's upbringing had been terribly old fashioned, she knew, so it was hard for her to talk about breeding cows, much less human sexuality.
Even Alex, raised in the '90s, but in a rural area, often felt at odds with the often prurient topics of discussion when she watched TV talk shows or when she talked with the other married women in her apartment complex. So she kept the TV off most the time and kept to herself rather than gossiping with the neighborhood women. It was how she had been raised.
What was important to her was to please Harold. This was becoming her sole objective and so far, she felt she was failing. They were still newlyweds and he was losing interest in her. And she wasn't pregnant yet, either, a fact that her mother had not failed to mention. Alex was willing to try anything to please Harold, and besides, except for the first time when he frightened her with his aggressiveness and those strange demands, she found she liked being 'ravished.' It made her feel tingly, almost like it was leading to something bigger, but never quite got there.
Not being stupid, Alex had soon realized that ravishing her was clearly out of character for Harold. So she began keeping track of where Harold went, trying to discover what was prompting him to act in this aggressive manner. In the back of her mind was the unconscious idea to see if she couldn't somehow find a way to encourage this behavior. It obviously pleased him, so, in her mind, she was justified in her actions. That she liked him to be forceful was just an extra benefit.
In typical female fashion she didn't ask him what she wanted to know directly. No, that would make him too suspicious. Instead, she questioned him everyday about how work had gone, pretending more interest than she felt in what he was doing. She wanted to know what happened in the offices he was in, what he had for lunch, where he ate, who he talked to, and so on. Two months of sly investigation had given her a lot of information, but not the answers she was looking for.
That called for more drastic measures, so Alex began snooping. Each evening he was home, Harold would shower immediately after walking in the door, recently, even before he kissed her. Every night, like clockwork, he would drop his overnighter on the bed for her to re-pack, drop his coat, pants, shirt, socks and dirty underwear on the floor for her to pick up and headed for the shower. So each evening, while Harold was in the shower, Alex would go through his pockets. She had to pick up his pants anyway. When that failed to yield anything but lint, she turned to his briefcase.
The second week of snooping she got her first big break. It was in the bottom of his briefcase that she found a scrap of paper, like it was a corner torn off of a matchbook cover. There was a name "George" scribbled in pencil on the back. And on the front were the letters "DUNGE..." The rest of the letters were torn off.
That night, Harold had ravished her. Twice. The next week as she did her snooping, the torn matchbook cover was gone. It was her only clue. Those five letters, the name "George" and the place where Harold had said he had had lunch that day. He said he had eaten lunch in a dilapidated old diner, a greasy spoon. It was the kind of place Harold seemed to favor, and it was located down on Main Street, about a block from the bus stop where she had just gotten off.
Searching the telephone directory for that part of town yielded only one business with the letters "DUNGE..." in their name. Only one business that would have a matchbook cover, too. But Harold had never mentioned to her that he was doing any work for a nightclub. It was his complete silence on the subject that convinced her she was on the right track. Why wouldn't he have told her about working at The Dungeon unless he was secretly excited about what he saw while he was working there? Especially if he was secretly ashamed of being excited about it, too.
So, undaunted in the midmorning sunshine, Alex walked on until she reached the nondescript door of the club. There wasn't even a lighted sign to advertise the business, just a small bronze plaque above a bell. She tried the door and found it locked. Chagrined, she suddenly realized that it was a nightclub and probably closed during the day. After mentally kicking herself for missing something so obvious, she almost headed home.
But first, what the Heck, she pushed the buzzer. She had come this far and it was a long walk back. With a solid click, the electronic lock of the door buzzed. Giddy with her surprising success, she pulled open the heavy door.
The cool stale air assaulted her senses; confusing odors of smoke, incense, sweat, beer and something else captivated her, luring her onward to the second door. It was a heady, seductive aroma to the naïve country girl. This second door was an elegant door, shining darkly in the dim interior. It was covered in black leather with polished brass fittings, very ornate. There seemed to be a lot more fittings than were necessary, so Alex assumed they were for show, as well. Overall, it gave the door a rather medieval look, somehow befitting the name of the place, The Dungeon, without being blatant.
A small but powerful halogen light overhead created a small spot of light on the wall, highlighting an electronic keypad. Alex had only seen one like it before and that was on the vault at the local bank back home. She was impressed and depressed at the same time. Without an entry code, she had no hope of getting inside. Then her hopes soared. The cleaning crew must have been expecting someone to come in later as the door was propped open with the deadbolt extended.
She frowned. The extended bolt was marring the perfect finish of the doorframe. It was a careless act, but it would explain the buzzing of the lock on the outside door, if they were trying to get someone inside. Regardless, she had come this far. Alex dug her fingernails into the edge of the door and pried it open, opening the door to a new world