Hime bares it all...

[Hime]

Well, my soul anyway. If you want bare boobies I will direct your attention to the lovely gallery of ladies at the top of your monitor.

The other night D. ordered my collar from a leather website I like. It feels like a big step to me (I'd been pestering him for one for ages with no results), but I'm not exactly sure where we are now. In this thread I'm going to try to write down everything to get some outside perspectives and gather my thoughts on the subject of our D/s relationship. And because the point is for people to *read* it, I will make sure to put in as many dirty bits as possible.

When D. and I first started talking online, I was immediately drawn to his forceful personality, before I knew what he looked like or even heard his voice. We both post on the same forum (not this one), and he started to single me out as a friend and to find excuses to send me sweet messages all the time. I respected his passionate nature and his eloquence, but he had a reputation for being crazy about beautiful women (not a category I included myself in), so I wasn't sure why he was interested in plain old me. As it turns out, he'd seen a post (in response to a picture of a model) where I mentioned that I wear a D cup bra, and had started looking for my posts to see if I'd posted any pictures. He didn't find any, but he did like what he got to know of me from my posts, and decided that one way or another, he was going to find out what I looked like.

From the beginning I could tell that he had a talent for being in control of the situation. I told him that I wasn't interested in more than friendship because he was older than me, a college instructor when I was a college student (in the same subject!), and lived far away. It got to be a "joke" between us that he would push his luck with compliments and sexy suggestions until I posted "when" -- at which point he would theoretically back off, except that it meant he knew he was getting to me, and the encouragement meant that he'd just take it further next time. He made off-the-cuff references to blindfolds, ice cubes, and other things I hadn't really thought about in that way before (I was a 19-year-old virgin at the time), and at one point told me that he wanted to pleasure me until I could barely speak. But what really did it was the "roleplay" scenario in which he imagined us as the lead characters in Jane Eyre, with him having to grab my wrist in his hand to keep me from slapping him as he drew me in for an ellicit kiss... eventually I was at the point where I couldn't think about anything else. Against my better judgment, I agreed that he could come visit me "just for a friendly lunch" --- over the Valentine's Day weekend.

to be continued tomorrow...

[ElectricBadger]

*listens, curious where this shall go...*

Congratulations on your collar, I hope wherever things go that it's a very good place!

[cariad]

*Reserving seat*

[TheDeSade]

reads. . . . . this looks interesting. . . . but I gotta admit I was hoping for more pics of that pink corset

[slave327-834-200]

~taking the seat next to cariad, with the green and blacks in hand for sharing out~

[cariad]

*perks*

Did someone mention Green and Blacks?

[~hellish one~]

oh you tease! ~curling up to wait for the next installment~

[Warbaby1943]

So until tomorrow, then.

[Hime]

So of course all of my friends insisted on me keeping my cell with me, as well as getting his name, phone number, physical description... one even asked me for his license plate number (how would I know that?)! Meanwhile, I was busy thinking about what to wear and whether he'd be interested in me once he saw me in person. The way he talked to me made me feel different from, well, everything else, except maybe performing onstage -- like I was someone special and interesting and worth spending time with. I was afraid that for him, the reality might not match up with the fantasy. Finally, I decided to wear a fitted v-neck red sweater, my favorite comfy jeans, doc martens and, as a last-minute addition, my dark-green leather dog collar, for good luck.

When I first saw him neither of us quite knew what to say. He was a little shorter than I'd expected, but very, very good looking. He has beautiful hazel eyes with long lashes, and classic Native American (he's part Cherokee) bone structure, high cheekbones and a strong nose -- think young Clint Eastwood. We ended up heading back to his motel room (despite what I'd promised everyone I *wouldn't* do) to exchange Valentines' presents. I'd tried to stick with neutral gifts (a sampler pack of gourmet coffees and a cute plushie of my school mascot) that wouldn't seem embarassing if we turned out to not have the chemistry in person. He, on the other hand, had found a beautiful red necklace for me that looked just like something I would have picked out if I'd had the luck to find it. It had a pretty antique-looking pendant and was just the right length (he later confessed that this was intentional) to dangle right between my breasts. You can barely see that I'm wearing it in my avatar.

I wanted to try it on, so I lifted my blonde hair to let him remove the dog collar and put on the necklace. The feeling of his hands at the nape of my neck was so intoxicating that it was difficult to stand still. We sat down together on the bed, and he asked if he could hold my hand. I said yes.
He asked if he could put his arms around me. I said yes.
Then he asked if he could kiss me. I wasn't sure if I should kiss on a first date. It had been a long time since I'd kissed anyone. But I couldn't bear to say no. As we kissed, he pulled me back onto the bed with him and his lips moved to from my mouth to my face, my throat, and my collarbones, and then to my breasts as he pulled down the neckline of my shirt. I felt very glad that I'd decided to wear a pink lacy bra that day, the only really pretty underwear I had.

We ended up making out for hours, and then for most of the weekend. On our first "real" date, the next day, we went to an art museum, where I wanted to show him some of my favorite paintings. Needless to say, it was difficult to concentrate on art. He would wait until we were alone in a room, and then hold me tight and move his hands over my body with incredible urgency while he kissed me, as though he desperately needed every part of me. At one point, while we cuddled on a bench in an otherwise empty room, he pointed out that there were probably security cameras watching us. He seemed pleased that that just made me want to put my arms around his shoulders and press myself against him even harder.

We had decided that we were not, no matter what, going to have sex the first weekend, and to my continuing amazement, we managed not to go farther than some below-the-belt petting. Without admitting it to each other, both of us ended up going home and, well, helping ourselves at the end of each day. What he didn't tell me until much later was that he'd fantasized about just tying me down and fucking me. What I didn't tell him is that I knew the whole time that I was just a little bit of pressure away from giving in to him completely.

Still, we both knew that we'd never wanted anyone in the same way before. Almost as soon as he arrived at home, we talked online again and decided that the next time we saw each other, we were going to go all the way.
So of course all of my friends insisted on me keeping my cell with me, as well as getting his name, phone number, physical description... one even asked me for his license plate number (how would I know that?)! Meanwhile, I was busy thinking about what to wear and whether he'd be interested in me once he saw me in person. The way he talked to me made me feel different from, well, everything else, except maybe performing onstage -- like I was someone special and interesting and worth spending time with. I was afraid that for him, the reality might not match up with the fantasy. Finally, I decided to wear a fitted v-neck red sweater, my favorite comfy jeans, doc martens and, as a last-minute addition, my dark-green leather dog collar, for good luck.

When I first saw him neither of us quite knew what to say. He was a little shorter than I'd expected, but very, very good looking. He has beautiful hazel eyes with long lashes, and classic Native American (he's part Cherokee) bone structure, high cheekbones and a strong nose -- think young Clint Eastwood. We ended up heading back to his motel room (despite what I'd promised everyone I *wouldn't* do) to exchange Valentines' presents. I'd tried to stick with neutral gifts (a sampler pack of gourmet coffees and a cute plushie of my school mascot) that wouldn't seem embarassing if we turned out to not have the chemistry in person. He, on the other hand, had found a beautiful red necklace for me that looked just like something I would have picked out if I'd had the luck to find it. It had a pretty antique-looking pendant and was just the right length (he later confessed that this was intentional) to dangle right between my breasts. You can barely see that I'm wearing it in my avatar.

I wanted to try it on, so I lifted my blonde hair to let him remove the dog collar and put on the necklace. The feeling of his hands at the nape of my neck was so intoxicating that it was difficult to stand still. We sat down together on the bed, and he asked if he could hold my hand. I said yes.
He asked if he could put his arms around me. I said yes.
Then he asked if he could kiss me. I wasn't sure if I should kiss on a first date. It had been a long time since I'd kissed anyone. But I couldn't bear to say no. As we kissed, he pulled me back onto the bed with him and his lips moved to from my mouth to my face, my throat, and my collarbones, and then to my breasts as he pulled down the neckline of my shirt. I felt very glad that I'd decided to wear a pink lacy bra that day, the only really pretty underwear I had.

We ended up making out for hours, and then for most of the weekend. On our first "real" date, the next day, we went to an art museum, where I wanted to show him some of my favorite paintings. Needless to say, it was difficult to concentrate on art. He would wait until we were alone in a room, and then hold me tight and move his hands over my body with incredible urgency while he kissed me, as though he desperately needed every part of me. At one point, while we cuddled on a bench in an otherwise empty room, he pointed out that there were probably security cameras watching us. He seemed pleased that that just made me want to put my arms around his shoulders and press myself against him even harder.

We had decided that we were not, no matter what, going to have sex the first weekend, and to my continuing amazement, we managed not to go farther than some below-the-belt petting. Without admitting it to each other, both of us ended up going home and, well, helping ourselves at the end of each day. What he didn't tell me until much later was that he'd fantasized about just tying me down and fucking me. What I didn't tell him is that I knew the whole time that I was just a little bit of pressure away from giving in to him completely.

Still, we both knew that we'd never wanted anyone in the same way before. Almost as soon as he arrived at home, we talked online again and decided that the next time we saw each other, we were going to go all the way.

[Hime]

A month went by, and we’d managed to find an excuse to see each other again – a conference at the school he taught at, which happened to have to do with my field of study. We spent some of the time at the conference, but most of it in the beautiful hotel room I was staying in (where he ended up staying with me). We were both on spring break, so we had plenty of time to explore one another and find out our specific preferences.

Now, I had always known that the fantasies I had were not ones that could be casually shared the way the girls in my dorm liked to talk about shirtless Josh Hartnett or the like. From the time I started thinking about sex, I could not stop myself from thinking about being kidnapped, tied up, and otherwise humiliated. There were times when I felt like this was wrong and tried to stop thinking about it, but that never worked for long. It hadn’t occurred to me that there was a name for that kind of feeling – sure I’d heard of “S&M,” but wasn’t that all about leather and high heels? I had no particular interest in leather and high heels, and had concluded that the fantasies I had tended to focus on the extreme as some way of compensating for the fact that they weren’t real. No, that doesn’t make any sense, but you try reconciling being a radical feminist and a submissive woman. It’s much easier to live in denial.

Anyway, as soon as our sex life started it was obvious that I liked it rough. The first time he spanked me (at my playful suggestion) I simply could not believe how good it felt. I liked being bitten, too. And teased verbally. And told what to do… and in general, things that required me to stop at the store and buy a tube of concealer for my neck and chest before going home to my parents… Suddenly things that had been mysterious for years made a lot more sense.

There was one moment that weekend, though, that stayed with me for a long time in my head. The morning before I had to leave, we were fooling around in bed. As he resolved a bit of banter by pinning me down by the shoulders, I told him “I’ll do anything for you. Tell me what you want me to do.”

He got quiet and looked out the window for a second. The shades were drawn and indigo-colored morning light was just starting to seep through. “I can’t do that,” he replied. “The one thing I want is something that wouldn’t be fair to ask of you.”

For a moment I was afraid to say anything, but I had to ask, “what?”

He looked back down and met my eyes. “I want you to stay.”

I breathed again, deeply relieved. But in the split-second before I’d found the nerve to ask, I’d recognized that I was experiencing something that was going to be important again someday, in a situation far more intense. I went back home that evening exhilarated, but with a sense that there were feelings between us that were a long way from being resolved.

[cariad]

*making myself breathe*

*wishing it was tomorrow already*

cariad

[slave327-834-200]

~gulp...staring forward while passing the chocolate to cariad absent mindedly~

[Guest 91108]

She stopped there? There?!!?

Gee ... a cliff-hanger ........

[annie]

Ohhhhh Hime....

I don't skip to the end of the book... but can it be posted faster???

PLEASEEEEEE???

[Warbaby1943]

Damn and I have to leave for a week. OH well!!!!

[TheDeSade]

very very nice. . . . what two lucky people!

[cariad]

*Silently taking the chocolate from slave327-834-200, and sharing with annie as we eagerly wait*

*Fidgets impatiently*

[annie]

*absently takes a piece of chocolate*

*watching... waiting.... *

Ohhhhh is it tomorrow yet?

[TheDeSade]

just sits and stares at annies new AV. . . .

[Hime]

just sits and stares at annies new AV. . . .

Yes, I would really like to know who that model is.

[annie]

*smiles* i don't know who the model is... would like to though.

Someone special shared the ava with me... *smiles*

[TheDeSade]

well. .that person has good taste

[annie]

*nods* i would agree they do... they have VERY good taste....

[TheDeSade]

wonders if they taste good

[Hime]

So, months went by. He lived in his state, I lived in mine, and we visited each other whenever we can, which came to about once a month. The first night of every visit was always amazing – he would take me home and slowly undress me, and we would do our very best to make up for lost time. Most of the time we were just happy to be able to feel each other’s physical presence, and in too much of a hurry to do much experimenting. Over time, though, we did try a few things. Sometimes we would play a game where he was my teacher and I was visiting after class… which eventually led to my making myself a little schoolgirl outfit as a present to him. Every once in a while he would give me a spanking, which we both greatly enjoyed, but they tended to be few and far between. I’m not sure if he knew how much time I spent thinking about the feeling of his hand coming down hard on my ass, or that the reason I’d been doing so much lower-body work at the gym was because I was hoping he’d want to spank me more. It took a long time to realize that the problem wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy it, but that he didn’t want to enjoy it.

After knowing each other for about a year, I came to spend Thanksgiving with him. After dinner, we went back to his apartment. He let me undress him, starting with his shoes and moving up to his shirt, but when I took off his silk necktie he stopped me with his hand. “We’ll set this aside for later,” he said, taking the necktie to a corner behind the bed. When I saw him place it on top of a pile of three other ties, my heart surged. I tried my best to concentrate on what was going in, as he unwrapped my black silk blouse and lace-overlay skirt, and took a few picture of me in the black underwear I had on underneath. After what felt like a long time, he guided me onto the bed and gathered the neckties. He has a really nice brass bed with posts, and he worked slowly as he gently tied each of my wrists to the headboard. The silk felt cool against my warm skin, and his touch was light and careful, but for the first time I knew the feeling of being powerless and having to put all my trust in another person. He kissed me and moved to the foot of the bed, where he tied my ankles to the footboard with the remaining ties. He asked me to try to move to make sure I was secure. I wriggled a little and couldn’t move. I felt completely loved and accepted as he kissed me and ran his hands over me, then began to part my thighs…

[Hime]

At the time, I admit that I hoped that it would be the start of a brand-new way of life for us. It wasn’t. We played a few games on occasion (he liked to tease me explicitly on the phone when he knew I was in a public place; I liked to send him naughty emails at work…), but for the most part we were a very happy, if long-distance, vanilla couple who had just gotten engaged. I started reading this site on a friend’s recommendation out of curiosity, and more and more I came to feel like I needed to belong to him in a more… solid way. I craved the feeling that he trusted me enough to let go of himself with me, something I’ve never had before in a life of being sheltered and protected – by parents who still thought of me as the underweight baby I’d been, by teachers who knew I was smart and didn’t want to see me fail… I wanted the man I loved to see that I was strong enough to let him play with me. But I didn’t know how to tell him without seeming like I wasn’t happy with what we had. I thought that he might think I was a freak, or the opposite – that my tendencies were a cliché phase that everyone else had already gone through. I was sure that he had a tendency to be dominant… I just wasn’t sure how to bring it out.

There was another problem, too, one that was much more obvious between the two of us. I had my secret kink, and he had one that he couldn’t keep secret if he tried. He loved tits. Especially very large ones. Until that point, I had been pretty happy with D-cup boobs on a 115-pound frame, but I noticed over time that all the women he mentioned as being attractive, and all the models I caught him looking at pictures of, were extremely busty, mostly augmented but some just natural and very, very lucky. His friends teased him about his love of breasts. And well, he obviously loved mine. He was always looking at them, touching them, kissing them, encouraging me to show them off in skimpier clothing. I enjoyed the attention, but quickly began to feel inadequate about not being in the extreme category that he seemed to enjoy. He worried that I didn’t trust him. I worried that I was too small and slight for him to use as a plaything the way I wanted him to. Without telling him, I bought a padded bra to wear on insecure days. I hardly ever wore it in front of him, because I didn’t know what he would think, whether he would object to the extra barrier between him and my chest, or worse (in my eyes), prefer me that way. Wearing it made me feel like I had some armor against the world. I started to wonder, hardly admitting it to myself, if I should have breast implants.

Of course, my insecurity about my body was what formed the barrier in our budding D/s play, not my body itself, which he always loved. It became a vicious cycle: not recieving the kind of treatment that I longed for made me feel more insecure, which made him more reluctant to do anything that might hurt me. Eventually I knew that I had to break down and tell him.

[Hime]

The breaking point came on the day when we were picking out clothes for our wedding. We went to David’s Bridal on the day of a big sale, and found a dress that made me feel like a movie star, strapless and perfectly fitted to highlight my curves. Then we went to the formalwear store to pick out tuxedos for him and his groomsmen. When the salesperson mentioned that the groomsmen could wear their jackets either buttoned or unbuttoned, depending on what the groom wanted or their personal preference, he smiled and said “I want to get to tell them what to wear,” I couldn’t help but giggle a little. I was sure his dominant personality was coming out… until that night when I tried on my dress to take some pictures for my family back home, and put on my favorite corset (the one in my avatar) under it. I got him to help lace me into it, which of course got me all excited. After I took off the dress, I laid down on the bed in the corset, hoping he’d be aroused by the sight. Instead he told me, “why don’t you change into one of your nighties? That just can’t be comfortable.”

I knew that he was being kind, but I felt hurt and stunned. With his take-charge personality and gentle bedroom manners, it felt like he wanted to dominate everyone… except me. ☹ Was I too emotional? Too young? Or as I feared, just too thin? I’d lost some weight recently and was even more concerned than usual about seeming fragile. I couldn’t help it; I broke down and sobbed until I was having a genuine panic attack. He held me until I was feeling composed enough to talk, and I confessed to him that I had been reading bondage websites and had decided that I wanted to go further in that direction.

His reaction wasn’t the best I could have hoped for, but it wasn’t the worst. He wanted to make me happy. He didn’t think I was weird or a poser. However, as a victim of childhood abuse (something I did already know), he wasn’t comfortable being in a situation that would make him feel like an abuser. He told me kindly and honestly that he could spank me and tease me, but he could never truly take away my control. I was ok with that; but the conversation did leave some ragged edges. We ended up having a couple of fights over the phone, and for the next couple of months the situation between us was basically static. I didn’t know how to reconcile the fact that I loved him and couldn’t bear to think of him suffering any more from his painful past, with the need I had to be dominated. I don’t think he knew what to do, either.

When we saw each other that summer, we ended up doing a lot of lying in bed talking. I tried to explain my desires, and he finally gave me some straight answers about his. It turned out that his love of breasts was more than just a preference, it was a fetish that I’d never heard of – he enjoyed reading and writing stories about women’s breasts growing, usually by some kind of unnatural means. He has a talent for explaining things in erotic ways, and he made me see the appeal in it – the idea of someone wanting more for herself, more power, more pleasure. He was also aroused by a process which I was going through at that time; the process of building muscle. I had started working out because I wanted more energy for dancing, but I had quickly become enchanted with the feeling of my body growing stronger and more powerful. I felt a sense of control that was new and exhilarating. While I was unsure how to feel about the breast fetish, which felt like something I couldn’t really do anything about, I loved that the joy I found in light body-building was a turn-on for him, too. And in spite of my insecurities, I found myself sitting up at night trying to think of a way to make his other fantasies come true, as well.

[slave327-834-200]

~popping more chocolate in my mouth as I wait with baited breath~

[cariad]

*reaching over to slave and helping myself to chocolate as I try not to wish the next 24 hours away*

cariad

[annie]

*sighing* OM! *keeps waiting.... wondering where the story is leading.... and wondering what they might taste like as well....*