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My
first encounter with the man who took my "virginity":
"Do you wear
the thongs I asked you to wear?"
As I answer "Yes!", he then
says: "Give them to me?"
As this happens, it
is late in the evening and I am seated at a table for
two, in Cabaret Cléopâtre, a crossdressers' hangout, in downtown Montreal. We are in the
Fall of the year 2001.
I am dressed all in black, with an
ankle length skirt and knee-high high heeled boots. My skirt
is raised almost up to my waist because, a few moments earlier,
that man, whom I will call C, raised it to caress my thighs.
I hesitate a moment
and take the time to check the people seated at the
tables next to ours.
In the previous weeks, when
exchanging daily emails, I had been so well prepared by C that I start to lift the back of my skirt and try to grab the
thongs I have been asked to wear.
As I am rather excited, I
have difficulties the find the top of my panties among
the laces of my corset but, when I can finally grab them,
without hesitation, I lift promptly my buns
from the chair and, as
discreetly as possible, I get my left leg
out of the panties and, then, the other and give
them to C. He
almost displays them in front of everybody before putting
them to his nose.
To
my great surprise, I immediately feel relieved and
even proud of myself to have gone through this first test. The
five girls at the table beside ours did not miss a beat of
what we have done.
About a couple of months prior to
that first meeting, C had sent me a first email telling
me he had seen my web site and wanted to
meet me. During the following weeks, he sent me a picture of himself
and he started to prepare myself to obey
him.
He is a very tall
man, in his thirties. Not a fashion model
but he is handsome.
After reading only a few of his
emails, I started to feel attracted to him, even though,
sometimes I went through periods of doubt because he sounded
too good to be true. I am not very much experienced in
discipline and submission but, in my mind, he did not seem
the typical dominant. No doubt, we have a lot of common
grounds to share but he is so caring and only wants to give
pleasure before thinking about his own. But, above all, he
seems to accept me the way I am,
without any hesitations, and does not bother about our age
difference. Sometimes, I felt it
too much for me. But, I wanted to meet him. at least ounce,
to make sure such a man really existed.
I must also admit
that, during the time we exchanged
emails, he introduced me to enemas and
started to control my sex life.
Our first meeting had been
scheduled for around 23:30, on a
Thursday evening, in that previously mentioned nightclub. The clothes to wear, the color of
my hair had been agreed upon many days before our meeting.
Also, in conformity with his instructions, I had to wait for
him at
the far end of the bar, had to bring
a pair of high heels he had chosen and to carry a
small dildo in my handbag.
Upon his arrival at the club,
C comes close to me and I
recognize him almost immediately, even if he
does not wear any longer the small beard I had
noticed on the picture he had sent me.
We
move to a table, in front of the stage,
and try to start a conversation. But, it is
almost impossible. The music is
definitely too loud.
Before the waiter comes back with
C's drink, I already start to feel his hands on me, under
the table. Then, he motions me to put one of my heels onto
his crotch. He likes my boots very much and I am so happy
about that because he already have told me that he is very
fond of high heels and my boots only have four inches heels.
During the whole Drag Queen Show,
on the stage, he does not stop to caress my hands, my inner
thighs and my "clitty". Do not ask me how is the show! I am
always on the verge of loosing my mind and the control over
my body. But, as soon as the show comes to an end, he gives
me the sign that we are leaving. We walk the short trip to
my parked car, I walking in front of him.
I unlock the doors and he takes the
rider's seat, telling me that we are going for a ride. But,
before I can fasten my seat belt, I must open my winter coat
and raise it, as well as my skirt, in such a way as to sit
on my naked buns. I must also slide down my body so that I
am almost seated on my lower back.
During that time, he has put on plastic gloves and,
as soon as I am in the required position, he starts to open
up my bottom hole in order to insert the dildo I was
carrying in my handbag. And, on the way we go!
We are now driving on one of the
busiest street of the city and I use what is left of my
energy to concentrate on the directions he is giving me and
on my driving.
It is almost impossible to
accomplish because he does not stop caressing my clitty.
Even while we are waiting at a traffic light he does not
stop touching me and everybody in the cars around us are trying to have
a look at what he is doing to me. I am almost always kept
close to cumming but what a delicious torture it is.
Pretty soon, we arrive in front of
a MacDonald's restaurant and he directs me to the drive-in
window.
Can you imagine the sight for the
boy who is asking for the money to pay for our order? My
coat is wide open. My skirt is raised up to my waist. And,
using both of his hands, C keeps my legs wide open for the
boy to appreciate that I am a very special kind of a "lady". I
would like to die but as far away as possible from the sight
of that boy.
As soon as we get our order, I
drive to the nearest free parking slot to try to regain my
composure. I just cannot believe I did what I just did. I
need more air! A lot of air to calm down.
During, all this time, C is sipping
his soft drink, smiling from one ear to the other, beside me.
About fifteen minutes later, I am driving back to
our point of origin, thinking that, for our first encounter,
I just had enough emotions.
The parking space, on the
side of the street, I left, about
an hour ago, is still empty and I
slip into it.
C tells me to get out of the car
and to take position beside a cement block
which is located nearby. I must put one of my legs on
top of it and raise my skirt so that my stocking tops are showing (see the censored picture above).
C's camera flashes. After I have been
directed to some other spots, many other pictures are also
taken.
For one of them, I even have to bend at the waist, right on
the sidewalk, so that my naked buns and the butt
plug in between could be well in sight.
Then, we kiss
goodbye and I drive back
home, unable to stop the turmoil which takes place into my
mind. I will have the rest of the night to sort out what I
have been through during this first of a series of meetings
with C.
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Épilogue:
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Even if, a few
months later, I moved to a Quebec City suburb, C and I
continued to meet irregularly. And, I had to accept to
exhibe myself, in some sort of state of nudity, everytime we
met. Each time he threatened me to exhibe myself, in more
and more crowded places, I was scared to death and I
resisted. But, each times, he manipulated me so well that I
capitulated. After each photo session, I had to admit that
it was not as difficult as I thought and I got used to it. I
believe I even started to enjoy myself. The adrenaline rushes
were so incredibles and I started to feel excited just at the
thought of having my sex naked, in front of C, so that he
could not only photography it but also grab it at will.
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Amongs the other
stories, posted on my website, you will find some which relates to
my later meetings with C, like:
or
.
