FurryFury
12-31-2005, 02:28 PM
"Chapter one" :
He watched me cry for a while as if enraptured. Those looks on his face of near reverence made me smile then eventually stop. He undid the cuffs. Picking me up as if I weighed nothing of consequence, he carried me over the couch and set me down. Holding me in his arms he cuddled me and somehow made me feel safe even cherished.
"You will be safe here, for as long as you are here, you will be safe." He comforted me with his body and his voice. His stokes were on my hair and against my back there was nothing inappropriate about them he was soothing me only.
I soon began to look forward to his visits. He came to see me often but not nearly as frequently as I wished. The time alone drove me crazy. There was so little to do. The time with him was a wonder I had never before experienced.
He listened to me. I don't know how many have ever had another human being really listen to them as he did to me but for me, this was a new and magical thing. He asked me questions seeming to find everything I said fascinating. He listened intently. He didn't offer to fix things for me that I felt were wrong with me or the bad things in my life like so many men tend to do, he simply seemed to empathize with my feelings about my life so far. I really felt heard when I was with him. I didn’t feel judged either. It was such an intoxicating thing to feel that way.
When he first started to come and ask me questions I was shy. I promised myself I would keep certain things secret but little by little I wanted to give him more of me. I wanted to be understood and cared about. Here he was asking about me as no one else ever had. This was my chance to become human to him. He had given it to me on a silver platter as they say.
He told me little stories about himself too. What different lives we had lived so far. His was one of privilege and affluence but he wasn't the sort of snobby person that I would have imagined. There was something of the little hurt boy in him that I sometimes glimpsed, it made me want to reach out to him, hold him, and kiss “it”, whatever it was, until he was all better.
It was odd to me this duality of personality that he had. At the same time he was fully in charge and confidant but sometimes peaking out I saw that bit of hurt child in him. I felt as I thought about it that we all had that, a hurt child pushed down inside. The difference was the degree to which we tried to hide it.
Our physical interactions progressed along with our communication. From kissing, to petting we went. I confess I was partly the aggressor. I felt deeply driven to be loved. I felt a need to make him smile and feel warm. It may sound like I fell for him ridiculously easy but I was just 18 and had been through a difficult time, I molded to his needs adapting as if it were natural to do that to his wishes. In a way he became my world, my hope for salvation.
When he wasn't there, I missed him terribly. Thoughts of going back to that horrible place with those men would take me over. I would wish for the comfort of the man who had bought me. I thought about his questions. Did I want to go back there a virgin? No, of course I didn't. Yes, I would like my first time to be lovely and good. If I ended up going back there at all, which I prayed I would not, I no longer wanted them to have the power to take my virginity.
Secretly I felt I could make this man truly love me enough to keep me and not send me back to be used by those animals. I just knew if I could give him what he wanted, he would love me and keep me close.
One night over red wine and pasta, which he had arranged because he knew I loved pasta, while we dined by candlelight, I told him what I had previously imagined my first time would be like.
There were three scenarios that I had fantasized about. One of course was rape. I had read enough to know that this was a common fantasy of women in my society but still I blushed when I said that horrible and dangerous word.
He smiled as if to say, yes, I understand. I knew he would never force me. I felt secure with him that way.
His eyes were so warm in the candlelight I wanted to kiss him right then but I had started this and I would finish it, I was determined to do that now that I had my courage up.
The second was on my wedding night in a lovely hotel suite. I would be in white still. Lovely fragile lacy sheer under things would gild my body, and my love; my husband, would take me, making me his forever.
The third fantasy was the one I favored most. In it I would be a cold-blooded executive bitch who had no time for a relationship or for men. One night I would meet a man who was exotic and had a thick accent. This man would be obviously experienced, charming and very sexy although much older. He would take me back to his place or a hotel and teach me about sex.
The first time would be in a large bathtub. I felt that would be not only sexy but since I was worried about the blood from being broken open, this would minimize the mess. He would teach me about sex so that I could fuck anyone I wanted and have confidence they would enjoy it. Then we would part forever.
(continued next post)
He watched me cry for a while as if enraptured. Those looks on his face of near reverence made me smile then eventually stop. He undid the cuffs. Picking me up as if I weighed nothing of consequence, he carried me over the couch and set me down. Holding me in his arms he cuddled me and somehow made me feel safe even cherished.
"You will be safe here, for as long as you are here, you will be safe." He comforted me with his body and his voice. His stokes were on my hair and against my back there was nothing inappropriate about them he was soothing me only.
I soon began to look forward to his visits. He came to see me often but not nearly as frequently as I wished. The time alone drove me crazy. There was so little to do. The time with him was a wonder I had never before experienced.
He listened to me. I don't know how many have ever had another human being really listen to them as he did to me but for me, this was a new and magical thing. He asked me questions seeming to find everything I said fascinating. He listened intently. He didn't offer to fix things for me that I felt were wrong with me or the bad things in my life like so many men tend to do, he simply seemed to empathize with my feelings about my life so far. I really felt heard when I was with him. I didn’t feel judged either. It was such an intoxicating thing to feel that way.
When he first started to come and ask me questions I was shy. I promised myself I would keep certain things secret but little by little I wanted to give him more of me. I wanted to be understood and cared about. Here he was asking about me as no one else ever had. This was my chance to become human to him. He had given it to me on a silver platter as they say.
He told me little stories about himself too. What different lives we had lived so far. His was one of privilege and affluence but he wasn't the sort of snobby person that I would have imagined. There was something of the little hurt boy in him that I sometimes glimpsed, it made me want to reach out to him, hold him, and kiss “it”, whatever it was, until he was all better.
It was odd to me this duality of personality that he had. At the same time he was fully in charge and confidant but sometimes peaking out I saw that bit of hurt child in him. I felt as I thought about it that we all had that, a hurt child pushed down inside. The difference was the degree to which we tried to hide it.
Our physical interactions progressed along with our communication. From kissing, to petting we went. I confess I was partly the aggressor. I felt deeply driven to be loved. I felt a need to make him smile and feel warm. It may sound like I fell for him ridiculously easy but I was just 18 and had been through a difficult time, I molded to his needs adapting as if it were natural to do that to his wishes. In a way he became my world, my hope for salvation.
When he wasn't there, I missed him terribly. Thoughts of going back to that horrible place with those men would take me over. I would wish for the comfort of the man who had bought me. I thought about his questions. Did I want to go back there a virgin? No, of course I didn't. Yes, I would like my first time to be lovely and good. If I ended up going back there at all, which I prayed I would not, I no longer wanted them to have the power to take my virginity.
Secretly I felt I could make this man truly love me enough to keep me and not send me back to be used by those animals. I just knew if I could give him what he wanted, he would love me and keep me close.
One night over red wine and pasta, which he had arranged because he knew I loved pasta, while we dined by candlelight, I told him what I had previously imagined my first time would be like.
There were three scenarios that I had fantasized about. One of course was rape. I had read enough to know that this was a common fantasy of women in my society but still I blushed when I said that horrible and dangerous word.
He smiled as if to say, yes, I understand. I knew he would never force me. I felt secure with him that way.
His eyes were so warm in the candlelight I wanted to kiss him right then but I had started this and I would finish it, I was determined to do that now that I had my courage up.
The second was on my wedding night in a lovely hotel suite. I would be in white still. Lovely fragile lacy sheer under things would gild my body, and my love; my husband, would take me, making me his forever.
The third fantasy was the one I favored most. In it I would be a cold-blooded executive bitch who had no time for a relationship or for men. One night I would meet a man who was exotic and had a thick accent. This man would be obviously experienced, charming and very sexy although much older. He would take me back to his place or a hotel and teach me about sex.
The first time would be in a large bathtub. I felt that would be not only sexy but since I was worried about the blood from being broken open, this would minimize the mess. He would teach me about sex so that I could fuck anyone I wanted and have confidence they would enjoy it. Then we would part forever.
(continued next post)