We had met for a drink previously- assessing each other, discussing kinks and life, seeing if there was any chemistry and alignment worth pursuing. I found him to be self-aware, philosophical, and experienced- my kryptonite trifecta. At the end of that meeting, we both decided that we wanted more. We spent the entire day of the scheduled playdate messaging back and forth, trading information on limits, safe words, protocol, etc.- I was given a few instructions to start out.
Be waiting for him kneeling beside my bed, arms behind my back
Have the toys that I am okay with him using nicely displayed
Wear babydoll type lingerie, lace panties, hair down
Address him as Sir
Do not speak unless/until spoken to
Maintain good posture
Speak in the third person (ie. Sir, your sub needs to cum now)
Ever the good slut, I endeavored to fulfill all of his requests. I would say that my experience with protocol is average; it is certainly one of the elements of D/s that I am interested in pursuing further. The thing about protocol that I find interesting is that it is often very simple to follow, but sometimes not intuitive. It is easy to forget manners or posture when your mind is otherwise occupied, and I find it irritating to be called out on it. It presents an interesting challenge for me, which of course I can’t get enough of.
Now on to the good stuff.
I did exactly as I was told; purple lace babydoll, black lace panties, long, blonde, curly hair down my back. I took my time on my makeup, hoping (knowing) that it would be ruined by the end of the night. I chose my favourite perfume, and then headed to my bedroom to wait. The anticipation built as I knelt on the floor and worked to quiet the butterflies throughout my body- breathing deeply, eyes closed, listening to my heart beat. Getting as grounded as I can before someone comes to challenge me.
I heard the door open and close, and the lock latch into place. I heard him leisurely take his coat off, taking his time to climb the stairs. By the time he got to the top I was ready to jump him. We made eye contact, and I resisted the urge to greet him with words- my smile would have to do. He got settled and oriented in the room, browsing the toys I had left out, and adding a few of his own. My skin started to crawl- I just wanted- needed- him to break the ice…touch me, anywhere. He came over to me, running his hands through my hair, tilting my chin up before complimenting me on my appearance. “Good girl, you clean up so nicely,” he purred as he circled me. He came back to my face, leaning to smell my perfume before his lips touched mine.
I melted into his kiss, relieved and excited by the stimulation, and by the fact that the chemistry from our conversation definitely translated physically. Definitely.
He took his time, devouring and exploring me like a five-course meal. I remained kneeling, hands firmly gripped behind my back. His hands roamed my face, neck, and shoulders, down my hips, over my thighs- a whisper between my legs, so swift that I wasn’t even sure it had happened. Down my back, over my ass- briefly pulling the lingerie up to appreciate my panties. His lips followed, punctuating the trail that his hands left. He finally came to sit on my bed, levelling his gaze with mine as he teased my nipples through the thin lace. That earned him his first moan from my lips as my nipples hardened even more under his touch.
At long last he popped my breasts over the lace, allowing them to spill out into his hands. He kneaded, palmed, flicked, and pinched me into an absolute frenzy. He tested me, gradually pinching each nipple, offering a twist at the end to see when I would flinch. After a sharp moan of surprise, I was able to breathe through it- his growl told me that I had impressed him, which of course made me smug.
With one hand still on my breast, he moved his other between my legs. He told me that my panties wouldn’t come off until they were soaked. As he dipped a finger between my lips, he smirked as I moaned- “I guess that won’t take long.” He brought his dripping fingers to my lips, allowing me to suck my juices off them. He slid them back along my tongue, a gentle test. He held them in my throat, waiting for me to gag- I didn’t. He muttered his approval as he tested me a few more times before returning his fingers to my throbbing clit.
He rubbed my clit, fingers sliding ever so slightly inside me every now and then, until I was more than ready for release. He then stopped, bending me over his lap. I was still reeling from the edge that he had put me on when the first slap came down on my ass. “This isn’t punishment,” he said gently, “you have been a very good girl. I just can’t resist seeing what I can do to you.”
Another slap landed, and I moaned in pure ecstasy. He focused his full attention on my ass for quite a while- spanking, adjusting and moving my panties to hit different spots, pulling them tight between my lips to ensure that the lace was as soaked as my pussy. I could feel myself starting to drip as I relaxed over his legs, leaning into each sharp sting. I could feel his enjoyment radiating through his hands, and it fuelled mine. I was in such a state by the time he allowed me to sit back up on my knees, that when his fingers gently stroked my clit my body crumbled into him.
He pulled back again, this time coating my sensitive nipples in my juices before paying them more attention. He took his clover clamps out of his bag, my body tensing at the sight of them. His touch was impossibly gentle as he attached them to my nipples, a stark contrast to their inevitable bite. I winced and cried out, trying to breathe through the initial pain. I came close to calling it, but I didn’t want to disappoint him- my desire for praise allowed me to compartmentalize the discomfort, eventually pushing it away to focus on his finger that had returned to my clit.
I was desperate to cum. The pressure of his relentless finger on my clit paired with the pain shooting through my nipples was too much to bear. I began trying to think back to the protocol around such things- oh, right- third person. “Sir, your sub needs to cum!” I said urgently, followed by a chorus of “Please, please, please Sir” as I desperately tried to hold on. He toyed with me for a few beats, no doubt revelling in my desperation, until at long last he said “Please? Okay, sub- cum for me.”
His words were like a trigger- my body convulsed before my brain was even able to catch up. My orgasm washed over me, pulling me into him, lips hungry for kisses, finding his neck as my hips and legs convulsed around his fingers. My hands grasped at anything to steady myself, voice lost in the moment. His fingers eventually relented, coaxing the last few shudders out of me before his arms wrapped around my crumpled form, pulling me into him. I tried to regain composure, righting my posture and fixing my tousled hair, meeting his eyes with a look of what I am sure was surprise, gratitude, and adoration. The man is good.