Sub*lime

Sub*lime ©2004

"I used to always catch you staring at me," my friend said casually.

I took a sip of the margarita I had ordered, gulping it nervously. Of course he had constantly caught me, and though my face would grow hot with embarrassment each time, he'd only smirk nonchalantly and continue on with his activities.

"I liked you, even then," I quietly offered.

He grinned. "Well… I like you, too. Do you like your food ?"

"It's very good. How's your shrimp?"

"Too bad you're allergic to them, they're great."

Returning his smile, I wondered where our little supper date would end up. Even though I knew it wasn't to be romantic, I had still done some special preparing for it. That afternoon I went to a local lingerie boutique to purchase some exotic underwear just in case we ended up together in a bedroom.

I browsed the aisles for something that would flatter my body; I had been kick boxing for a couple of months but was still unhappy about my skinny, unshapely legs. I chose some black garter stockings to enhance them and a lacy red bra that unlatched from the front.

I was near the panty rack when I noticed a mannequin wearing a dominatrix costume. Fascinated, I took in her leather mask, her satin bustier, tight black skirt with riding crop stuck into the waistband, and her thigh-high boots. I felt an unusual desire emanate inside of me and momentarily thought about buying at least the boots and crop. I licked the corners of my mouth as I continued to marvel at the statue. Then, instinctively, I looked to my left at a man in the bikini section. He was grinning sleazily at me, baring a snaggletooth, tobacco-stained grin. With that, I hurried to the checkout line.

The meal with my friend was going pleasantly. We talked about the same things we always did and our platonic honesty remained intact. I asked him, "You have any other hobbies?"

As he explained them to me, I studied his face, which was quite unremarkable. I couldn't understand why I was so very attracted to it. He had dark brown hair cut into a nondescript style and boring brown eyes that finished off his average appearance. I smiled again as I thought of how perfect he'd fit in the lawn care department of Lowe's. As he returned my grin, I wondered what his true opinion of me was.

I focused on finishing my food. More than his looks, though, I liked his sociable, down-to-earth personality. He liked to act as a teacher to those around him and had an unmistakable authority to him. It intrigued me. Being a teacher was like being in control of the person one was talking to and that was what initially turned me on to him. It was easy for our friendship to develop once he began to assist me with my tasks.

A couple being led into the eatery passed our table and as they caught sight of us, their eyes widened in momentary shock. I'm sure that my friend noticed it along with me.

He took a pregnant pause and confirmed my assumption by asking, "Have you ever done this type of thing before?"

"Done what?"

"You know. Go out somewhere with a white guy."

I wiped my mouth with a paper napkin and softly said, "I've done just about everything there is to life at this point."

His eyebrows lifted. " Every thing?"

"Well, everything vanilla ."

He only responded with his smirk. I wondered if he knew what vanilla meant in the context I was using it in. Soon, I'd get the answer.

"What about the type of women you've dated?" I asked.

"I've been pretty conservative in my life about that."

"Oh."

"I've had… experiences, though."

I absently stroked my bottom lip with my thumb and perked. I felt comfortable enough to ask, "With who?"

His demeanor didn't change. "A few black prostitutes I picked up when I was serving in the military."

"Really?"

"Yes. But they weren't anything special. Most of them just laid still underneath me and kept asking if I was almost finished."

"I see."

"It's so much better when a woman is with me to enjoy it, not for any other reason."

"That's very true."

He eyed me for a while, and I think he was being so straightforward to test me. I just suppressed a beam, enjoying his candor as much as a juicy piece of gossip.

By the time we entered his home that evening, the sun had all but lowered and the moon was out in the graying sky.

"Do you date a lot?" he asked, locking his door behind us.

"Not a whole lot, like once a month."

He prepared mugs of coffee for us while I looked up at the early stars from his slide door.

"What about relationships? Have you had many?"

I sipped the cappuccino he handed me. "No. The ones I've always been in have been short. And unhappy."

"I'm sorry to hear that. What's been the problem?"

"I don't know," I answered while remembering how I got no joy or real sexual satisfaction from any of them. "How about you?"

"I've had some good relationships over the years. When I found the kind of woman I like."

My cheeks warmed. I didn't think to ask him what kind of woman he was speaking of. I nursed my drink and mulled over how hard sex and relationships were for me, though I regularly ached for them both. I didn't think that this night we were sharing would be any different. I was just obsessively drawn to him and wanted to consume as much of him as possible, even in the ultimate way. I hoped I wouldn't get so nervous that I'd be uptight and not able to do or experience anything. I had drunk quite a bit of tequila so I was feeling bold, but I knew one frown from him would destroy my augmented self-confidence.

We were in his home office, near his desk. He kissed me for the first time there. His cologne danced into my nostrils and relaxed me more. His arms were around my waist and my breasts squeezed against his chest. I hesitated for a second, drawing back, but he held me tighter and slipped his tongue inside my mouth.

"Feels good?" he asked, his face but an inch from mine.

"Yes."

Then he suddenly loosened his embrace and shoved me roughly into the desk. I gaped at him, frozen. His expression was dark and my heart leapt curiously. I glanced at his front door.

He yanked my shirt and bra up, then carefully bit my right nipple. I gasped while my hands clutched the shoulders of his shirt in case I had to keep him at bay. But to my relief, he remained gentle, and I found the slight pain from his teeth was actually making me aroused. My chest heaved as he switched to licking and sucking my breasts. He undid and lowered my pants and with the sight of my garter stockings and naked pubis, his face lit up. He propped me on his large desk and slid himself inside of me. I was surprised and pleased with how easy he pushed it in.

He moved in me with good even strokes which were slow at first. I squeezed and caressed his smooth buttocks while feeling heat and contractions between my legs. Moans escaped my throat and it all caused me some embarrassment. He held me tightly around my shoulders and pumped away, then quickly took a hold of my buttocks and we thrust together until our climaxes.

He kissed me once more then withdrew and untangled himself from me unceremoniously. He went to finish off his coffee and I was left in the office feeling spent but awkward. My heart was also still slamming from the initial terror of his mood swing. I didn't know what to do next. I felt like a slut that had just been fucked in a back alley.

"Come sit with me," he said from his sofa.

I rubbed my lips together thoughtfully and obeyed him. We lounged there together for a while. We watched TV. Then he said, "Come closer to me."

I meekly sipped from my mug and did so. He embraced me and drew back to press his lips to mine. I savored the sensation as he repeated the action again and again.

He cupped my rear and writhed his crotch into mines. Feeling his penis pulsate against me, I gripped his back and parted my legs more. His living room was dim and quiet except for the TV, and I found his couch to be quite cozy and perfect for lovemaking. But then he took my right hand and pulled me up and towards the back of the house.

Once inside his bedroom, he gave me a playful smack on my backside. I broke into a smile and he peeled off his shirt and dropped his pants. Without asking he stared into my face and tugged off all my clothes. I was glad that he was being aggressive, dominant, and take charge with me. Like the biting it was giving me a euphoric adrenaline rush.

We kissed some more in his bed. My heart still thumped and I felt inadequate, but thrilled. He nipped at my nipples again and stuck three fingers inside of me. When he attempted to do four, I silently stopped him. He climbed on top of me and I held onto him and thrust upward in pleasure with my eyes squeezed shut.

"Look at me," he said.

I made myself gaze into his face and it heightened my arousal. He felt larger inside of me that time. And he fucked me much rougher, smacking his skin into mine and knocking the headboard against the wall so hard that I wondered if he was trying to hurt me. When the passion was over, he rolled his body from mines and things were quiet for a while.

"You liked it when I bit you," he stated it in question form.

My eyes opened and for the first time I noticed that his ceiling was stucco. "You scared me half to death at first."

His voice was gentle. "I'm sorry. That was the was last thing I meant to do."

"It's okay."

"Did my teeth hurt?"

"Not too much."

"Did you like the pain?"

"It was… okay," I answered with carefulness. I didn't know where he was going with the conversation.

The fact that he had shoved me without reason was still on my mind, but I decided not to bring it up if he didn't. There was something more important that was bothering me, anyway.

"You know…" I started.

"Yeah?"

"I've never done this before. I mean, going home with a guy for the first time, and jumping into bed with him. This the first time I've ever done it."

"Why did you?"

"Well, we've already known each other for a while now. It's not like we're strangers. We're friends"

"That's right. So why are you explaining yourself?"

"I just don't want you to think that I'm a slut or anything."

"You're not a slut," he stroked my hair, then added, "But I wouldn't mind if you became my slut. My obedient black slut."

He stroked my hair once more then laid back in bed while I digested his last words with a furrowed expression. Then before long I was drifting off into a light, brief sleep.

*

We became closer over the next month. He craved intimacy and was very demanding of it. He often did whatever he wanted to me without asking while giving a pinch, nip, or shove to my body. Otherwise he'd give me orders to follow. I liked what he was doing and wasn't freaked out by it. I enjoyed following his commands, it turned me on. His treatment inspired me to one day reminisce to him about times I had asked past boyfriends to spank me and get kinky during sex.

"Well, I didn't ask them straight out," I told, "but I implied to them that it was what I wanted."

He peered at me with narrowed eyes. "And what did they do?"

"They didn't take me seriously at all. Some even laughed." I blinked my eyes impishly.

"You… ever thought about me spanking you?"

"Mmmm, not really."

"Do you like the idea now?"

My cheeks warmed and I smiled. I wouldn't look at him then.

"Yes or no. Does the idea turn you on?"

"…Yes."

He leaned back, then suddenly got pensive. He interlocked his fingers and was silent for long moments. I watched him expectantly.

"What if I told you that I'm a Dom?"

My mouth parted and I fumbled for words.

"Do you know what that is?" he asked coolly.

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"A… dominator."

He smiled slightly. My friend was very confident, controlling, and straightforward, especially behind closed doors, and yet at all times there remained his easygoing, mentoring demeanor. Therefore I stayed relaxed, though still surprised that I actually knew someone who was into such a thing. I mean, spanking and pinching was one thing, but was he talking about extreme stuff like whips, chains, and piercing needles?

"That's right, basically." He nodded. "Are you familiar with play?"

"N-no, not personally. I've seen things on TV about it, though," I answered with a quick shrug to appear sophisticated.

"Would you like to have a session with me?"

"You mean… here? Now?"

"Sure. I want to. And I have everything we need."

"Well, I don't know you that well. I just couldn't…"

He placed his hand on my knee. "You can trust me. I'm sane, I'm safe. I was formally trained to be a Master and take it very seriously."

I shot him a look. "Why didn't you tell me all this before?"

He stood up thoughtfully. "I didn't want you running away from me screaming."

"I wouldn't have done that."

"I know."

"I'm not judgmental."

He was staring directly down at me and I felt the pressure to make up my mind. I looked up into his eyes.

"What do you want to do to me exactly?"

"I'll keep it light, okay? You don't have to worry," he replied in a soothing voice and started massaging my shoulders. Warm goosebumps flooded my upper body.

"You've trusted me so far, haven't you?"

"Yeah," I admitted.

"And I mean, if I were a psychopath, I would've done something bad to you a long time ago. Why would I wait so long?"

I remained silent and thought that over. He began to fondle my nipples through my clothes. Stirring began between my legs as my mind was struggling with ambivalence.

"Let's just try it once. If you don't like it, I'll stop right away and we can go back to the way things were before this conversation, okay?"

He took my hand and pulled me up. I found myself walking with him to the bedroom. My heart was racing and stomach fluttering.

"Come on, we'll pick out some things together ," he was saying.

He went into his closet and began laying out his equipment, which I had never seen until that time. All of it was high quality and I felt a little hurt that he had kept this side away from me. My faith in him was shaken.

But I continued to go along. He stood behind me and I felt like he was my father guiding me through something that was unknown but ultimately beneficial and wonderful. He chose a leather collar for me, a thick one that was black and had decorative steel chains lining it.

He placed it around my neck. It fastened just like a belt and clung to me securely. In the middle of it was a metal ring that he then attached a leash to. With that, I was already beginning to feel like his personal property. I got the same sensation as when I saw the dominatrix outfit in the store.

We looked over his collection of spanking tools: there were leather slappers, hand paddles, and small whips. He picked up a paddle that had a leopard-print surface.

He asked, "How about this one? Do you like it?"

I nodded. I was hesitant to counter him even if I didn't agree. He grazed the surface of it along the right side of my face while smirking.

"Take off your clothes."

I silently obeyed him and was left standing in my blue bra and panties. He chose a gray blindfold and placed it over my eyes. Sight taken away from me, my other senses got more acute as did my anticipation of what he'd do next.

The paddle brushed across my face again, then traveled down the middle of my chest and belly. I swallowed hard.

"Do you like the way it feels?" he asked.

"Yes."

Abruptly it smacked against my left buttock and I gasped as rapid stinging spread over the surface of my flesh.

"Yes, what?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir ?"

"Good, bitch," he praised, then slapped my backside once more. "And don't forget it. Now put your hands behind your back."

I waited to hear the clinking of handcuffs, but never did. He secured my wrists together with leather bands that linked with metal rings.

That's when my heart started to race faster. Tethered and without my sight or hands, I was totally vulnerable to him. I prayed that he indeed was trustworthy and sound.

"How do you feel being so helpless right now?" he asked.

"Okay so far."

"What's going through your mind, slave?"

"I'm wondering what you're going to do next."

He tugged on the leash and I jerked forward. "Come sit a while."

As I sat in his bedroom chair I could hear him changing some of his clothes. I heard zippers zipping and laces being pulled. Then he removed the restraints from my wrists. He yanked on the leash and I stood up.

"Get on your hands and knees like a good bitch… Good… Now kiss my motherfucking feet."

I reached my hand out to find them, patting the floor. He yanked the leash and slapped my buttock with his bare palm.

" With your lips ."

I puckered them and after some fumbling, found one of his feet. My lips pressed against the toe of his shoe and discovered that he had changed out of his sneakers. I felt and smelled leather as I kissed both of his feet silently, feeling like an exploited piece of garbage. But it was vaguely gratifying me. Amazed, I tried to decipher why I wasn't as offended as I should've been. Meanwhile, my crotch was still stirring in pleasure.

"You like the way it tastes?" he asked huskily.

"Yes, Sir."

He stepped away from me and I paused; he tugged me towards him. I crawled to him and resumed kissing his boots. Again he stepped away and began to lead me around like a dog through the house. We came to his living room sofa.

He had me climb up on it. My elbows and knees sunk into the plushness with relief. My backside was in the air and facing him. He took hold of my panties and pulled them upwards so they acted like a thong. My cheeks fully exposed he began to lightly massage and caress them with his hand, then thrash them each with the paddle.

The burn was intense. A moan escaped my throat and he smacked harder as if to get a stronger response. I bit down on my bottom lip and relished whenever he paused to soothingly graze my buttocks with his fingertips.

"You like the way this feels, don't you?"

I winced and breathed hard. "It hurts."

He whacked harder. "This can be just the beginning. Do you want it to be?"

Right then I was smarting, but the punishment was still satisfying a hunger somewhere inside me. I had been right to ask for past spankings.

"Answer me, cunt."

"Yes. I would."

He hit me harder than ever before and I yelped out.

" Yes, what? "

"Yes, Sir ."