MY FIRST TIME We'd been chatting pretty regularly for weeks on the Internet. He told me from the word Go that he was into BDSM and I told him very definitely that I wasn't. I don't know why he seemed to want to stay in touch; presumably there must have been something in my questions or answers that kept him interested. But I always insisted (and still do) that I do not enjoy pain or being humiliated and that if I ever got into a situation with him, I would defend myself. He just laughs whenever I say this. One night he decided he would come and see me, suss me out. The idea was to meet for a chat and a drink in a public place - nothing would happen - and I surprised myself by going for it, thinking I could handle whatever situation may arise. During the evening he came, he sent me numerous texts, taunting texts, maybe checking I was still up for it. I couldn't get hold of a taxi that night, but managed to get a lift up to the pub with a friend. As I got out of the car on the car park she asked me if I thought I was doing the right thing - I said I wasn't sure at all. As I leaned into her car to answer her, I saw a car pull up and a dark, bearded man with a sports bag climb out and walk confidently into the pub, without looking at me. I thought he might have been the one so I gave him a couple of minutes and then walked into the pub and over to the bar. There was hardly anyone in there for a Saturday night and as I ordered a drink I asked the bar-man if he could see a chap on his own who could have been waiting for someone. Without looking round, he gestured at the far corner and when I looked around I saw that indeed he was the dark bearded man from the car park and the man I had come to meet. I thought, "Oh well, at least he's not bad looking" but I was scared stiff and shaking as I walked over and sat with him. We shook hands and chatted very nicely for a little while. I asked him what he had in his bag and he showed me - nothing really - a few disks - I don't know what I expected, maybe whips and chains. He had asked me specifically to dress in something smart that I would wear for work - and nothing underneath. I wasn't particular enamoured about wearing a work suit on a Saturday night and actually did wear underwear - and tights - which I knew he would hate if he found out. But then again, he wasn't likely to find out, was he? He had one of those hypnotic voices that you could listen to for hours, deep and rich with a slight northern accent. I found him very good looking - his intense grey eyes glared with passion like a hungry lion about to pounce. He made me feel very small and vulnerable. After a while the subject of BDSM came up and I thought I handled it well enough. At one point he asked me to spread my legs so he could see up my skirt, but I was too self conscious to do this. Towards closing time, we left the pub and drove up to the motorway services for some coffee and more fencing. He must have just about given up on me when I decided suddenly that he might as well come home with me for a coffee, it was so expensive where we were. I suppose I was thinking: nothing is going to happen unless I want it to - he just wouldn't dare attack me. A couple of my close friends had his name and one had his telephone number, so nothing could possibly happen. I felt as if I had known him years - he was very responsive and interesting and yet I never felt he was coming on to me. The first thing I did when I got home was to get changed out of the awful prudish suit into something a bit scruffy but more comfortable. I put the kettle on for him and he spent a few minutes upstairs trying to sort out a couple of problems with my computer but while I was making a drink, he came down with a ruler he had picked up somewhere and proceeded to try to stick it up my tee-shirt. It felt naughty, but I let him anyway. He slowly used the ruler to lift the top right up, exposing my breasts moving it underneath and round them, stroking gently. I didn't mind him seeing my breasts - thought they were possibly my best points. Then, he suddenly slapped my left breast with the ruler and I gasped. I knocked his hand away and called him some name or other, but he did it again, and I knocked his hand away again. I thought he was going to kill me. He went absolutely wild - tore my clothes right off me until I was cringing naked on the kitchen floor, then he dragged me by the hair into the living room and put me over his knee to give me a good spanking. I was blazing angry, screaming and desperately trying to get away from him but he was just too strong. He pushed me down on the floor and bent over me looking me up and down like a hungry wolf. His eyes were all over my body and I really thought I was going to be raped after all he had said over the past weeks about trust. His hands everywhere - my legs, stomach, breasts - but not in a groping sort of way, it was more like he had decided I was his property but not quite what to do about me. I just couldn't believe I had let myself get into this ridiculous situation. As I cowered on the floor he dropped on top of me smothering my mouth with his, forcing his tongue down my throat, and I gasped as he pushed his fingers deep inside my cunt, probing around and whispering to me how wet I already was for him. I begged to differ - didn't want anything to do with this. He stuffed his wet fingers inside my mouth - this was an absolute nightmare - I just wanted it to end. I started to panic as he put his hands around my throat and squeezed hard and evenly, but it wasn't painful as he didn't dig his thumbs into my skin. He just kept saying, "trust me". And I did. Then, he stood up, looked contemptuously down at me and slowly started to undo his leather belt. I realised what he was going to do and tried to get away from him, curling my body up so he couldn't get to my breasts. I had absolutely no chance as he forced my hands away from my body and beat me hard over my legs, my arms, my bottom and my breasts over and over with the belt. It was excruciating - while all this was going on I was hoping to God the neighbours weren't listening at the wall at all the screaming and pleading and crying that was going on next door to them. Everything was happening fast. Next he turned me over onto all fours, forced my legs apart so he could see everything I had and proceeded to beat me unrelentingly between the legs, on the top of my thighs and across my cunt, all the time telling me how much he was enjoying seeing my pain and distress. Every now and again he would stop and tell me to make him another drink, to keep him sustained. I had to stand in the kitchen, stark naked, in front of this stranger, filling the kettle and making coffee. It was very embarrassing and he knew it and enjoyed seeing my discomfort. Then, he would start again beating me over my breasts, legs, stomach and private parts with the leather belt. He carried on a while rolling me over as he spread the beatings evenly over my body and making my lick the sweat from his forehead. Then he stopped and again pushed two fingers inside me, telling me I must be enjoying it, I was so hot and wet inside. I braced myself for more pain but amazingly this time it didn't come this time. I found myself pushing my body backwards onto his fingers. He laughed scathingly. Said he knew all the time I was enjoying being treated like a whore. He pushed his fingers in and out of me and I rocked backwards and forwards onto his hand. When he took away his fingers I felt sick to my stomach, wanted him to put them back inside again. As things got more stimulating, we got hotter and sweatier until eventually his body smelt like a crazy feral animal, and I was a wanton bitch in heat. I will never understand why but I actually spread my legs wider for him, leaning forward so he could see more precisely what he was doing, could get his belt to me easier. He laughed again, told me what a dirty filthy bitch I was turning out to be after all. When the belt caught me at the top of the legs I actually felt a very slight disappointment, and would change my position slightly so it caught me in exactly the right position next strike but I hoped at the time he didn't notice. The beatings (with intermittent breaks) went on for over three hours - using his hands and the belt on me, then stopping for a coffee, then starting again, then stopping to be compassionate and soothing with me, telling me what a good girl I was and how well I was doing for my first time. By the time he left at 5am, I found I wanted him so much I could put up with all the nasty painful elements as long as I got the gentle and caring parts as well. I wanted more of him, to feel his rough hands and mouth all over me in every private little place but by then was in so much pain I know I couldn't have borne it any more. Before he left that morning, he looked me over and became extremely excited at the prospect of red welts and purple bruises coming up all over my body. My bottom was red and swollen and the bruising lasted for ten days afterwards - what a mess he made of me that first time. I could still taste his sweat when I went to bed that night. He has since introduced various other themes into his visits - one night I spent an hour and a half chained up, with my legs fastened wide open to a wooden bar and a log of wood inserted into me, kept in place with a hook on the outside end which was also chained to the bar. I think I can take it better now than on the first time, but when I tell him this it just makes him even more determined to find more gruesome and painful situations for me, and this I also find exciting. I actually look forward to it now but he has never ever made such an awful bruised and battered mess of my body than he did on that very first night - and I do so wish he would.
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