Amanda and I hadn't spoken for weeks. I didn't understand what I was
feeling, I just knew that the hair on my neck stood up when I heard about
it. She had been wonderful, not entirely what I expected. She was
concerned, patient, and comforting.

After all the discussion she finally agreed to meet. I arrived promptly
at 9. She stresses that promptness was not an option. Actually I arrived
about 20 minutes early, but I sat in the car until 2 minutes till 9 and
then went to the door. She asked me not to wear anything special, just
something to be comfortable in. I chose my customary nice T-shirt, my best
pair of faded jeans, and my favorite Docksiders.

Her front porch was dimly, although adequately lit, and in the foyer
just beyond the stained glass of the door, I could see candles. Suddenly I
felt quite underdressed and completely ill prepared. My stomach churned
and I was face to face with my doubts of whether or not I was really ready
for all of this.

I knocked on the door as close to the stroke of nine as I could figure,
and it took only moments for me to get a taste of what the rest of the
evening was going to be like. I stood there at the door for an eternity.
It was actually only five minutes, but I didn't dare knock again. I knew
she was expecting me, and I knew she was ready. She was making me stand
outside, just beginning to exercise that subtle control I knew she'd had
for a long time now.

When she did come to the door, I was dumbfounded. I had gotten a rather
vivid mental image of what my 'mistress' was going to look like. She was
about 5'9", long, flowing, dark brown hair, and a figure like a cross
between a career swimmer and a career gymnast. Her breasts were modest,
but ample. Her figure was strong and toned, but still soft. Every step she
took would be silent, perfect.

When the door did open, there stood a normally quite average woman, not
a perfect body, but wonderfully shaped. She didn't have the animal
qualities I had imagined, but the confidence and sensuality she carried
could have swept me off the porch like floodwaters. I might as well have
been standing in front of a Greek goddess.

I stood there with a 'deer in the headlights' look on my face. I guess
I must have physically staggered, because she allowed herself a subtle
smile. She was wearing high heels, dark stockings, and a full-length
crimson dress held precariously on soft shoulders by impossibly thin
spaghetti straps.

She said, "Come in Adam, it's nice to finally meet you." I
didn't speak. I couldn't. She walked away from me, completely unconcerned.
I assumed I was to follow. I smiled. Whether or not I was ready for this,
I was in it.

She had told me, there wouldn't be any sex involved, although at some
point I might be told (or did she say 'allowed' to come), but if I did so
without permission, I was going home and not coming back.

As we walked, I noticed that the only light in the house was by
candles, and the air was sweet with patchouli incense. I didn't know if
she prepared like this for the other people that came to her, if she did I
was impressed, if she didn't I was beyond flattered. I could only assume
she did this for all of her submissives, but I wasn't going to ask.

We walked into a large room with all the accouterments I had envisioned
in a 'playroom'. There were the usual shackles, various hooks, bolts and
the like, and a very nice set of traditional looking stocks. What struck
me the most was a queen size four-poster bed, sans headboard in a corner
of the room. The thing I found unique was the abundance of holes running
the length of all four poles (I assumed for eye-bolts).

She turned around and looked at me. I felt my chest tighten, and I just
stood there looking stupid.

She walked close to me and said, "I want you to take off my dress.
You can use any means you want."

She walked behind me. I felt her take my hand, and I heard the
ratcheting sound I'd heard only once before when I got hauled in for those
unpaid speeding tickets. She took my other hand, same noise.

She walked back around me, "Begin," she said. I stood for a
moment, pondering my situation. I was nervous about taking the obvious
tact, my teeth, fearing that she would be disappointed in a pat response.
Since I didn't have any other answers, I started as best as I could.

I walked around her and began to grab one of the straps in my teeth to
slide it off her shoulder. I must have let the tip of my teeth nicked her
skin, because I was rewarded with a resounding slap across my astonished
face. I hadn't even seen her move.

"You BIT me!" her voice hardly raised, but the inflection
unmistakable, "All the time I've invested, and you're sloppy, maybe
I'll just call this whole thing off."

"O god, no," was all I could reply.

"I don't give second chances, don't expect another. You had better
do better this time," she told me.

I began again, in earnest, panicked that my next mistake would be my
last. This time I took the straps between my lips, making sure they
weren't too wet, or too dry. This was working really well, but I was
getting high from the smell of her skin, the perfume she had on, and
feeling her skin under my lips. My head was swimming, as I dragged the
strap over her shoulder, I risked a small kiss on her arm. Her eyes darted
toward me with a 'don't think you can get away with that again' look, but
at least she didn't whack me. Maybe I was high, maybe I was just
stretching to see how far I could get. This wasn't domination. I'd played
games like this in college, with women similar to this.

Finding a method that seemed to work I continued in my task, getting
absolutely no help from this woman. The most difficult part was dragging
the dress down. It was a snug fit, magnifying every curve on her. I knelt
in front of her and grabbed the dress, just between her legs, I caught her
scent, clean and sweet. It's a smell I've always loved. I thought the
veins in my neck were going to explode, I almost buried my face in that
lovely crotch, but I knew if I did, I'd be lucky to get out alive, and I'd
never hear from her again. The dress finally hit the floor, and I looked
up. Not the black lace teddy I was expecting, but plain pink silk panties
and bra, and not a spot of moisture on them. I have to admit I was
disappointed. I tried to show a little flair in my first task, evidently
with no results. I knew it wasn't because she was cold, but in complete
control of herself also.

I was exhausted. My muscles were so tight you could bounce quarters off
my stomach. I had broken into a light sweat, and had a little trouble
getting up off my knees.

"You did well once you got started, maybe I won't send you home
yet," she laughed.

I really didn't have much to say, I figured less is more, and I wasn't
much good at small talk anyway. It seemed to be the right thing. She took
off the handcuffs and told me to take off my shirt. Once my shirt was off,
she handed me a set of leather cuffs that looked like they had been swiped
from an institution for the criminally beefed-up. They weren't large is
size, but I knew from looking, that once I was in them I wasn't getting
out unless I was released. Once my wrists were in the cuffs, she led me
across the room to a corner under a cable, which was hung through a bolt
in the ceiling. I was told to walk up a series of small blocks until I
could hang the chain between the cuffs on the hook. Once secure, I walked
back down the small blocks, slowly stretching my arms overhead. By the
time I got back to the real floor, the tips of my toes were the only
things that touched ground. There I was, shirtless, stretched out like an
animal ready to be cleaned.

She went to a table and picked up a leather paddle. The fear spread
over my face, but I knew that was bound to happen.

The paddle landing on my ass reminded me of those little fireworks I
used to set off as a kid, not the sting, but the sound, and it hurt.

"That's not all there is, dear, I'm going to strip off those cute
jeans and see if that little butt is quite prepared to cash the check your
mouth was making on it's trip down my body. I saw the look in your eye.
You knew better but you kept up those little kisses anyway, we can't have
you taking liberties now can we?"

She waited for a moment and the paddle struck again.

"CAN WE?" she shouted.

"No... No...", I said, meekly.

"SMACK" the paddle made itself known again, and I was damn
glad I was still in my jeans, I only worried that this rosy glow I could
feel was just a sampling of what my indiscretions was going to get me.

"You will always answer with, 'Ma'am,' 'Mistress,' 'or, 'Lady', DO
YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"YES... yes, Lady, I understand."

With that, and not another word, she undid my belt, and my zipper, and
my pants fell to my ankles.

"Slip out of your shoes and kick those pants away," she said.

"Now, I'm going to give you a little reminder about your place
here. You knew you shouldn't have been planting those cute little kisses
on me, but you did it anyway, if we're going to get along, you must
learn."

I knew this was a bad thing.

Now my situation had gone from bad to worse (or was it better, at this
point?). Now I was hanging from a cable by professional shackles in
nothing but my black bikini underwear. The beating then began full swing.
I lost count after 12 swats. I assume my brain was trying to shut down
from the pain. She told me I could stop this at anytime, but she wasn't
really going to test my endurance the first time, and if I did safe word,
I might get a peck on the cheek on the way out. So I held my breath and
fell into the trust I had entitled her with.

My face was clenched and pouring with sweat, although the room itself
was a comfortable temperature. I realized she had stopped, I opened my
eyes, and she was standing directly in front of me. I could feel her
breath. I could feel the warmth of her sex against my stiff prick. Her
hips moved gently, then she backed away.

"Well, if you feel properly punished, we can begin."

My ass was on fire. I'd never hurt like that in my life. I wondered how
I was going to drive home, and this had just gotten started? I was
trussed, naked and a thermonuclear tan on my rump, yet my only fear was
that I wouldn't please her, and I'd be gone.

She moved beside me, I felt her push something warm and soft against my
ear. It surprised me at first, but I realized it was those wax earplugs
swimmers use, it covers the ear canal without going in it, but seals out
everything including sound.

Before the other plug went in she said, "All you have to do is
stay as still as you can. If I need you moved, just move where you're
guided. Don't answer me, I know you understand."

I knew sound deprivation wasn't all she was going to do, and then, as
if on cue, came the blindfold. It was leather and fit snugly across the
whole top of my face, across the bridge of my nose. My nose and mouth were
free, as well as the top of my head, but my eyes and ears were completely
covered.

I could feel my heart pound, and I could hear the blood rushing through
my veins, but that was all. My whole body had become an antenna. I felt
something really cold trickle down my back. I jerked and it pulled me off
balance, I began to twist around, catching myself after a nearly
ninety-degree turn.

The paddle came down on my raw bare ass with angry intensity, I steeled
myself for another blow but it wasn't coming.

The cold dribble began again, It was ice, no doubt, and she began
rubbing little circles with it on my partially covered ass cheeks, my legs
and back twitching unconsciously. She removed it and then ran what I could
only assume from the length was a dildo made of ice up the inside of my
thigh. Again I flinched, and again the paddle sang its song.

Well, I was determined I wasn't going to get swatted again for failing
to follow instructions, so I concentrated on keeping my toes planted.

Again I waited, panting in silence, waiting for the next swat, the next
shiver, I cock was rock hard and spilling out the side of my briefs. I
felt her hands pulling my legs close together, and she took off my
bikinis. My shaft sprang out, slapping me on the stomach.

"SHIT!" I thought, "She said no sex! I didn't think I'd
be naked."

I began to hyperventilate. She put her hands on my chest gently
stroking me.

I heard her ask me through the plugs, she must have been shouting, if I
wanted to stop. My jaws were locked together and I shook my head 'no'. She
kissed my chest and I started to relax. At this point, I'd had a hard on
longer than I thought was humanly possible, and I thought I felt pre-cum
on the bottom of my shaft. She reached down and took my aching cock in her
hands and I started to groan. I knew I was going to come as she stroked
it, her hand still cold and moist from the ice. I was completely lost. If
I safe worded I was gone. If I came I was gone, and the moment of truth
was crashing down. I shouted the safe word she had given me, and it was if
time had stopped. Her hand was gone, there was no contact, my body was
shrieking with no relief, I was physically and mentally exhausted, and I
cried. I hung, my chest heaved to catch my breath and I cried. I know I
hung there for a long time, although exactly how long I didn't know. My
throat ached, my eyes burned behind the blindfold. I knew it was over and
I hadn't been able to handle it.

I felt the small steps being pushed underneath my feet. I managed to
get myself down from the hook and nearly collapsed. I felt her weight
under me, wrapped in a terrycloth robe. She helped me over to the bed and
laid me down on my face. I sat up just a little and began to speak, but
her finger covered my lips, and she motioned me to lie still. She began to
rub some salve or cream into my ass and the backs of my legs where I had
been so expertly stained red from the inside. It cooled the burning and
the stinging, leaving a warm dull throb. She stroked my hair and back. I
started to cry gently again. She rolled me over, a little trail of pre-cum
down my leg and took off the cuffs. She sat me up and turned me away from
her so she could undo the straps the to mask. I didn't turn around. She
turned my head and took the plugs out. I could hear the air conditioning;
I could hear the clock down the hall ticking.

I couldn't look at her. I didn't want to hear what she had to say. All
the weeks we had talked, I had gotten used to her voice. It wasn't love,
but she was a kind mentor, and now I'd be without that friend. What a
drag, but I guess life will go on.

She took my chin and turned me around to face her, Surprisingly she was
smiling. That smile could melt polar ice. I was very confused.

"Are you all right? I got worried for a bit."

"I don't get it," I stammered, "I said the safe word,
you said that would be the end of it."

"I drove you to your safe word on purpose," her voice was
almost a giggle, "if you had come on my clean carpet it would have
been over. Everyone has a limit. You admitted you had reached yours. That
will save you a lot of grief someday. Shower's through there, towels on
the rack, your clothes are on the table. I'm tired. I'm going to go make
us some coffee..."