Wednesday, August 5, 2015

First Date

I've been seeing Val a lot. She is so perfect in so many ways. Today Phil at work mentioned that she was probably the best looking girl at work, and I had to agree.

She's also, like... very delicate. Thin, nice shape, beautiful face. She isn't into all the things I like, but at least she tries. And I'm getting really used to having a girl that will fuck whenever I want, however I want.

I was thinking about it last night when she slept at my place. When my cock is inside her, it is like... her flesh is so soft and yet has this sort of texture to it that envelopes me, and stimulates me. Her pussy is tight, always sort of clings to my cock flesh. She is always wet when I touch her, always ready. Sometimes too wet, so it gets slippery and doesn't feel quite as good. We stopped using condoms after the first time, at my insistence, and the feeling of being inside her is fantastic.

It's making me want to cum right now.

So I guess she and I are an item, you know? Like... sleeping with a girl two or three times a week doesn't automatically meet commitment or anything but, I guess it does sorta. We've been going out every Friday and Saturday night for the last two weeks, and usually at least one night during the week. This week it was twice.

Last night we had planned to go to this gig a girlfriend of hers was playing, the bassist in a band. It would have been fun. Not to mention another chance to peel the clothes off Val and find some new position to fuck her in.

But Isabel called yesterday at about 6:00, and told me to come over at 8:00. She didn't ask, she told me. And I said OK. I called Val right after and made some lame excuse about a cousin in town, to which she said "gosh bring him along!" and I had to come up with some other convoluted story. I am such a bad liar. So Val was totally upset, I couldn't tell whether she was hurt or angry. She kept asking if I was mad at her, or if everything was OK.

I go over to Isabel's, and I have no idea what she wants so I dress casually because for all I know she wants me to move more furniture. Her street is really dark at night, and her house is isolated from neighbors by the curves of the canyon and trees. It was damn eerie.

I ring the doorbell and there's Isabel, dressed in tight plunging leather with some spikes and a dog collar and hell she is looking good-- she can wear jeans and make them look like a million. Her makeup is just a little goth looking and it suits her really well. She looks me up and down and says something like, "Well, I guess you sorta don't care what you look like around me."

That was humiliating because I was trying to make a good impression. I honestly am not sure why, because Val is really cute and totally wants me.

Isabel takes me out to her car, an amazing BMW i8. That car must cost well over $100,000 and my idea about Isabel and who she is just shifts gears completely when I see it. I should have known, her house must cost several million, it stands to figure she is loaded. No idea how or why. She's gorgeous, strong, and rich.

I get in the passenger seat and we fly down the hill toward Hollywood and in minutes we are parked at this shop I never knew existed that has all this fetish clothing. She gets out and I follow her in, and she is picking out clothes for me. I still don't know what is going on, but I don't care, being with her is a completely different experience than anything and I'm sort of excited.

She looks at my jeans and says, "I guess the jeans will do but try on this shirt," and hands me this black thing that has rings sewed in it, and some zippers in weird places. She also hands me a collar, like a dog collar with small spikes and a ring.

I put on the shirt. It's some weird material, not leather, but maybe vinyl or something. It's uncomfortable and feels tight. The collar I am looking at and wondering WTF... but I put it on. While I am doing that she shoves something over the top of the dressing room door and says, "put this on too."

She has given me some weird kind of leather or vinyl jock strap. Well, it had better fit because once I try it on they are going to make her buy it, I think. But I go along for the ride, it's her money, and slip off my jeans, slip on the jock. It's tiny, too small, and holds my cock and balls like a tight glove. I put on my jeans and then open the dressing room door.

Isabel looks at me with a sort of half disgusted expression, and then says, "Yeah, maybe. The collar suits you. What about the jock?"

"I put it on," I say.

She looks at me like I am insane. "Marc, show me the fucking jock strap."

"What??? Here?" We were standing in the middle of the store. There were people around, a couple of whom were staring.

"Fuck it Marc, you wanna go out tonight or not? I am trying to help you here. Now show me the damn strap or walk home!"

So I undid my jeans and slid them down below my knees, right in the middle of the store. And yes, everyone looked. I think I blushed bright red, the first time I had done that since I was like... 10.

Isabel looks at my thinly and tightly covered package, smirks a little, and then reaches out and feels the way it fits. Oh, my god. Isabel has touched my cock, something I have dreamed of for several weeks, since I first met her. Except she is doing it in public with people watching and I am humiliatingly wearing this one size too small vinyl jock strap separating my flesh from hers. My cock should be getting hard right now, except it can't because the strap is too tight, besides getting up with a bunch of strangers watching isn't happening.

She says, "Turn around" and twirls her finger.

I shuffle my feet so she can see my bare ass (so can about 10 other people in the shop).

"Yeah. OK. It will be nice to know you are wearing that tonight while we are out. I hope it is a little uncomfortable. I'd get you a bigger size.. but... well, you just aren't that big. Yanno?"

I wanted to fucking melt into the ground. I pulled up my pants, buckled my belt, and we walked up to the counter to pay. It felt like I was on display, all the other customers looking at me knowingly.

We get up to the counter, and the clerks rings the shit up. $273. Holy crap. Then Isabel drops the big one.

"So pay him, Marc."

Uh.... "I thought... you..."

Isabel has this mean look on her face, like she is looking for an excuse to hurt someone.

"You thought I was going to pay to dress you properly? Really?"

I handed the clerk my credit card. 273 fucking dollars.

We get into her car and are driving down the boulevard, god knows where, my crotch sort of hurting from the strap that's got me squeezed. But the sensations of being with Isabel, the air flow from the speed we are going, the pain in my crotch, the weird feeling of wearing the collar, the musky scent that comes from her... it all comes together to form this exciting mix of experience and feeling that is just so different, so exciting, so ... I felt totally alive. To arrive anywhere in her company seems exciting to me.

She parks and my heart sinks. We are at The Abbey. It's where Val's friend is playing. Val is going to be here. She is going to see me. I don't want to be here, Val is my only steady fuck right now, in fact my only fuck because Isabel shows no signs of putting out, and I sort of like Val. I hesitate by the door to the car when the valet takes the keys from Isabel, but it doesn't last long.

Isabel has a long leather strap in her hand and swiftly takes one end with a clasp and clips it to my collar. It's a leash. I've been fucking leashed. She walks away from me, and in two steps the leash pulls tight, my neck is yanked and *bam* I am following her into the club obediently.

The place isn't really going yet, but we head to the dining room for dinner.

Amazingly, dinner is delightful. We get a nice bottle of wine, and then another. Isabel is actually a rather good conversationalist, and I found out a little about her. She is like, this VP of a marketing firm that manages some of the biggest movie and media companies in LA. I get the impression she knows someone and her connections got her that far ahead at a young age. She mentioned a number of women, so it is clear that she is bisexual (duh... figured that out the first time I saw her). The Abbey is one of the more famous places in LA, and she knows everybody there. We were treated like royalty. The food was great, Isabel was nice (mostly), she even took the leash off.

Yeah. The leash. It felt so weird. And yet, I didn't dare ask her to take it off. I don't know why.

Then the bill comes. $522. For me to pay. Just.......... crap! I don't say a word. I pay it. So far I am into this girl for $800. OK, I really like her, I like being seen with her, I like being in her presence, having her pay attention to me gives me a hardon just thinking about it. In fact, I am letting her run roughshod over me because I want to be with her so much. But... man, I am not rich and she is.

Anyway, it's 10:30 and the club is open and we get up to go in. And, of course, the leash goes back on. I'm trying to think of a way to get her to take it off without completely destroying the evening, when we meet a group of two girls and one guy that are dressed rather oddly in zippers and leather and holes in their clothes that expose interesting part of their anatomy. One of the girls squeals when she sees Isabel and runs up, hugging her and then turns to me. She sees the leash and says,

"Well! Isabel, I see you have a new pet! This one is niiiiiiice... what's his name?"

"This is Marc. We're trying him out. Marc, this is Jenn, and Tran, and Christina."

The squealy girl blonde is Jenn. Tran is a short buff guy, probably Vietnamese, with some interesting tattoos. Christina is a quiet dark haired girl, pretty in a European sort of way, wearing a thin round metal collar.

The bit about my being Isabel's new pet takes me aback. How do I feel about that? It implies some sort of relationship with Isabel, something I had only dreamed of. On the other hand, what kind of relationship? I am going to have to bark like a dog? Is it just a term of endearment?

Go with the flow, I tell myself.

We get a private table. We are in a different room from the one where Val's friend's band is playing, and I am relieved. We have table service and are once again treated like royalty. The DJ in this place is great. We dance, we drink, we get drunk. Christina is quietly rubbing her body up against me, discreetly. When Isabel leaves the table without me, she ties the leash to her chair. I don't challenge the action and stay put. It feels weird, but somehow ... good. Like she cares enough to want me to be there, exactly where she left me. I liked the feeling.

It got really late. I was drunk, very drunk, and had started to rub up against Christina. One time when Isabel wasn't there I leaned over and put my arm around her, nuzzling her neck. Then I saw Jenn looking at me, with like, a warning. She says something to Christina. I didn't hear it but it was something like, "he belongs to Isabel, don't screw with that".

It was too late, 2:00 am. I had to work the next day. I tell Isabel I need to go. She's drunk too, but doesn't show it as much as me. At first she asks me what is so important that I want to go. I tell her I gotta go to work the next day. At first she looks like she is going to hit me, but something comes over her.

"Fine. We go home. But you owe me for this one. Right?"

"Sure," I say, "I owe you for this one."

I got no idea what that means. But she takes me back to her house. Driving in the beamer is so cool, down empty Hollywood streets, up the canyon, sitting beside this beautiful bitch of a girl, feeling like her pet. It feels good.

When we get to her house I stagger over to my car. She kisses me hard, once, on the lips. Tongue going deep, her hands and arms around me. God, it feels good, like a coke rush. My own arms go around her holding her close and I feel her body against mine. It's like a dream, our saliva mixing, her soft lips against mine, tongues chasing and playing.

She then knees me in the groin. Pain goes shooting through me, and I fall to the ground, hands and knees, and vomit on the driveway. I roll over to a fetal position for a bit, and finally the pain begins to fade.

"Now we are even. Don't ever make me leave a place again," she says, and then turns and walks into the house, leaving me on her drive.

I barely made it home last night. Work was shit today. I paid such a fucking high price for a night out with that bitch. But oh what a night... I've never felt so alive. I wanted to be with her so bad, and that last kiss was amazing, but... damn.

I swear, never again. She isn't worth it.


  1. Getting drawn in slowly, each step minor, in and of itself, but all moving closer to submission to Isabel. This is deliciously erotic. Great.

  2. Getting drawn in slowly, each step minor, in and of itself, but all moving closer to submission to Isabel. This is deliciously erotic. Great.