Fiona was a shy girl, and still very much a virgin. She had seen many of her peers and friends engage in crude acts at parties and even in her own bed, but she could never bring herself to join. The very fact that she masturbated at all mortified her. She felt almost a dirty sense of guilt afterwards and she would often let out a few tears as she sucked her own cum off of her fingers, wishing that she had someone else to do this for her. God, she hated it when her hands were dirty.
Fiona often would walk through the park and daydream as she passed by couple after couple, trying to picture them touching. Trying to feel the sensation of what it might be like to be touched in that way. She really hoped that no one could read her mind, and maybe that's why she was so shy in the first place. There was a defenseless demon inside of her that begged to be tortured. Begged to be spanked and told how naughty she was.
Just then, with her head down, she very nearly runs into a man. She let's out a startled, "OH!" as she stops dead in her tracks right in front of him. She looks up at him with her head still down, waiting for him to move. He's the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. He was so tall and handsome - the kind of guy you'd see in a particularly steamy horror movie. Dracula, maybe? He was dressed all in black, but that didn't change the gentle and warm smile on his face or the mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Hello," the man seemingly sang to her. "Where are you rushing off to?"
"Ummm..." was Fiona's reply. She felt dumb. Speechless. Titillatingly helpless. It was an exhilarating feeling.
"How about you come with me?" the man answered her sweetly. Fiona nodded a few times, still speechless, and followed the man around a tree and to the back of an apartment building. "I live here," he said. "Would you like to come up and see my home sweet one? I promise I won't hurt you." he smiled wryly. Knowingly.
"..Too much." he added ruefully. Fiona felt dizzy. Her stomach started to tighten with anticipation. She knew what they planned to do, and yet, she remained unafraid.
He led her upstairs and to an apartment with no number on the door. She looked at him quizzically but his face remained the same - placidly calm with a rueful, knowing smile lighting up his face. He unlocks the door and moves to the side, motioning for Fiona to take the first step. Giving her the power, once again, to choose her own fate. She chose to go in. She chose to go deeper.
He followed her in slowly, shut the door behind him and flipped the lights on simultaneously. Fiona took a seat on the couch in the living room. It was a nice couch, but seemed to be the only thing in the room. There was no TV. No tables. Just the couch. The man sat next to her, simply gazing straight into her eyes - saying nothing. After a few moments, Fiona dropped her gaze and asked quietly, "What shall I call you?"
His eyes seemed to lighten and darken at the same time as the ends of his mouth widened into a touched and mischievous grin. "Sir," he responded. "Call me Sir."
She smiled slightly and he moved in closer to her, his face touching her hair, his hand slowly making its way up her thigh. He put his face in her hair and took a deep breath, quietly moaning. "Do you like music?" he asked. Fiona is momentarily taken off guard. "Yes?" she replied.
"Mmm, good girl." Suddenly, Sir got up and moved over to the seemingly blank and empty wall. Fiona noticed he'd grabbed two remote controls off of the arm of the couch before standing. He opened a cupboard that seemed to have come out of nowhere and pressed a button on one of the remotes. Without notice, Human Behavior by BJORK starts playing. Fiona started to wonder if that was a coincidence or if he somehow knew that this was one of her favorite playtime songs. Only, usually, she was playing by herself.
He excused himself for a moment and Fiona starts to feel the pool of wetness in her tight leggings. If this goes on much longer, I'll be walking home with soaked pants, she thinks to herself.
Sir momentarily comes back in with what looks like a large purple toy of some sort. Fiona had never seen such a toy...
Sir wandered absently back to the couch and rubbed the vibrating purple toy along Fiona's legs and she almost cried out in pleasure. Just then, Sir swiftly moved in closer and said, "Don't scream, love," putting his hand, gently but firmly, over her mouth.
To toy was cold against her skin as she sat, feeling helpless yet exhilarated and breathless. She instinctively touched the wetness and began raising her fingers to her mouth - but Sir stopped her short. Quietly but sweetly he asked her: "Did I tell you you could do that?" and laughed a little. Fiona let out a meek squeak.
LET YOUR MIND WANDER...
YOUR TURN TO TELL THE STORY, SISTERS. LABEL IT "PART 2" ;)
I look forward to your additions.