We'd already talked quite a bit over email and exchanged pics. We agreed on a time to meet. He let me choose the location, and I picked a coffee shop near a small but popular city lake - depending on the weather, we could sit inside, walk along the lake, or find a bench under the trees.

I was a few minutes late but he didn't mind, and his smile was far cuter in person. Very polite and charming in an understated way, and I found myself responding in kind. He already had a drink, so I got one as well. We chatted a bit, and then he said that he had brought along a little surprise for me, but didn't want to show me in the coffee shop. Hmm... what could it be?

We took our time finding a bench; the weather was lovely and the conversation flowed smoothly and easily. The surprise turned out to be a ring gag, something he'd mentioned enjoying in our emails and something I'd mentioned never seeing in real life before. Naturally I wanted to know what it felt like, and for just a moment he set it behind my teeth, right there along the lake. He took it away just as someone jogged past. We laughed and admitted we were both a bit aroused.

Usually I don't play with people the first time I meet them, but I was bewitched. I rode my scooter back to my apartment (after first sending a quick text message to my boyfriend to let him know what was up) and he followed behind in his car. Once we were in the apartment his eyes settled on a small magazine table and he picked it up, testing its weight. I had no idea what he had in mind - in fact, I'd never really thought about the table much, it was just a random piece of furniture I'd 'inherited' from a former roommate.

Soon we were slipping into our roles... the ring gag was back in my mouth but this time securely buckled behind my neck. My clothes were removed, and I was ordered to kneel. The magazine table was placed in front of me, and I was gently but firmly pressed over it. He'd warned me that ring gags lead to drooling, and sure enough an embarrassing little puddle of saliva started collecting. I wasn't really thinking about it, though, as there was so much else to process - the feel of the ring gag against my lips, tongue and teeth... the slap of his hands on my bare ass...

He kept walking away and coming back, and I didn't know why. I was confused, but with no instruction to stand or to stay I didn't know what to do, and chose to remain where I was, on my knees over the table, my head hanging low. I heard a bag being unzipped... soon my hands were tied behind my back. He was sitting on me, just sitting on me like I was the table (heavy enough that I couldn't wiggle, light enough that I could breathe) and the soles of my feet were being whipped with something small and stinging. I hadn't really tried to talk with the gag but now I was mewling helplessly. I don't usually like my feet being messed with - but I'm not in control, am I? He's in control, and he wants to torment my feet, so torment it is, and I can show him how obedient I am. He can tell I don't like it by the way I squirm and protest, trying to move my feet away. He holds them tightly. I am humiliated. I am aroused. I am in pain. I am enraptured.

Now his fingers are inside me, I'm so wet, he's pushing against that certain spot I'm all too familiar with and my mewls turn to moans of pleasure. The saliva is dripping freely, I don't care anymore, and the carpet is definitely going to need a cleaning after the juices that just came out of my pussy.

Now I'm up on my feet, still bound and gagged. He walks me over to the large window overlooking the neighborhood, and presses my body against the glass. I shake my head No and try to protest, but he ignores it. My breasts are flattened against the chilled window. My wet breath is creating steam. I'm glad I live in a highrise so no one can see me. I secretly hope that someone sees me. ...no one looks up. I decide they're missing out.

At last I am ungagged, and can laugh and talk and stretch my jaw. I am unbound, and can put my clothes on. We hug, a warm tender hug that lets me know I've done well, a hug that hints of future torments and delights. He promises to call, he leaves, and I jump into bed to get myself off because I'm so turned on from the delightful little escape from reality that I've craved for too long. My body needs the ecstatic release that my brain was just treated to. I give myself exactly what I deserve, and it is good, and I hope I interpreted that hug correctly!