I was both nervous and excited as I raised my cell phone, brought up Jason’s contact information, and initiated the call. I felt a sudden tingle up and down my body when I heard his voice say, “Hello?”
“Hello, Sir, this is Jill. I hope you don’t mind me calling you; Sam gave me your number.”
It was through Sam, my sister, that I’d met Sir. I listened anxiously until I heard him say, “No, Jill, of course I don’t mind. What can I do for you?”
“I’d like to follow up on something we talked about briefly the other night,” I told him. “You mentioned easing my way back into the scene community; could we meet to talk about that?”
“Sure. Let’s have coffee sometime; what’s your schedule like?”
“I can meet you any afternoon you’re available; how’s tomorrow at three o’clock sound?”
“That’s fine, Jill. I have no idea where you work; what’s convenient for you?”
“There’s a Starbucks in Tysons Corner Center; would that be okay?”
“Absolutely. I’ll meet you there.”
We hung up and I heaved a sigh of relief.
*
I timed my arrival to be right at three o’clock, and as I walked up to the Starbucks entrance in my button-front blouse, knee-length A-line skirt, and three-inch heels I saw Sir arriving from the opposite direction. He raised his elbow and I put my hand through it as we strolled silently in unison to the counter. I’d been a bit nervous about seeing him again, and I was relieved by his gesture of inviting physical contact.
“What will you have, Jill?” he asked as we strode to the counter.
“A cappuccino, if it pleases you, Sir,” I replied.
“We’re not in scene now, Jill; my name is Jason.”
“Thank you for telling me, Jason, and I’ll use your name when that’s appropriate. But I like addressing you as Sir.”
As we arrived at the counter he said, “I’m glad you feel that way, Jill. Now let me order our drinks.” He turned to the barista. “Two grande cappuccinos, please.”
“Certainly, Sir,” she responded, and I couldn’t help but smile as another attractive woman addressed Jason that way.
At that time of day the place wasn’t busy, and our drinks arrived almost immediately. Jason led me to a table outside the store entrance and we sat facing the mall walkway at one corner of the four-top. After each of us sipped for a couple of minutes, watching the people pass by, Jason turned to me.
“So, Jill, what’s on your mind?” he asked.
I was expecting a question like this, and I’d been mentally rehearsing how I would respond. “Two things,” I replied. “One is that I’d like to take you up on your offer to help me find a new long-term play-partner, one who might turn out to be a romantic partner as well.”
“I can do that,” Jason said. “I assume you’re interested in finding a male partner, not a woman; am I right?
“Definitely.”
“Okay, I know several eligible men who might fit the bill. Most of them are regulars at the weekly Black Rose education meetings, so I’ll take you to one as a guest and introduce you to those who are there that evening.”
“That will be wonderful,” I told him. “I really appreciate you doing that.”
Jason sipped again, then said, “I’m happy to do it, Jill. I always like to see folks meet potentially complementary scene people. Now what’s the second thing on your mind?
I hesitated, looking down at my cup for a moment, then let my eyes meet his. “I want another scene with you, Sir.”
It was Jason’s turn to look away momentarily, but then he turned to fully face me. “Why?” he asked.
I didn’t hesitate this time, and my voice was firm and steady. “Because our first time together was wonderful, and I want to experience more of what you have to offer.”
His response was serious. “Okay, we’ll do it. BR education meetings are on Tuesdays, and they’re held at The Crucible these days. There’s a meet-and-greet BYO munch before the actual meeting, but I think we’ll skip that; I know who I want to introduce you to and I don’t want to get sidetracked by a lot of questions about where’s Donna when I show up with you.”
“Is Donna your sub?” I asked him.
“Yes, she is; you’ll meet her someday. Now as I was saying, go home after work next Tuesday, change into casual clothes, and grab something to eat. We’ll have to drive into Northeast DC; I’ll pick you up at your house at seven.”
“Yes, Sir, that will work just fine.”
*
I’d been anticipating this evening’s events for a few days, so when I got home from work on Tuesday to get ready I followed Jason’s instructions. I’d worn a nice silk blouse that day, and it was opaque, so knowing Jason’s preferences I took it off, removed my bra, and then put the blouse back on. I released my hair from its French braid and changed from my skirt-suit and heels to a pair of not-too-tight slacks and ballet flats. Then I fixed a quick salad for dinner and was ready in plenty of time.
Jason was right on time picking me up, which was certainly no surprise, and we immediately got into his car and headed into DC. After threading through the last of the evening rush-hour traffic, we arrived at The Crucible. It was 7:45 when we entered; Jason paid the BR admission fees, his as a member and mine as a guest, and we walked into the main open space. The munch was apparently over; people were standing up from the tables and mingling in small groups.
Jason took my upper right arm in his left hand and steered me toward a pair of men chatting on one side of the space. I was thrilled that Jason had stepped right into his dominant role, taking charge of me both physically and psychologically. The men stopped talking and turned to greet us as we approached.
“Hi, Jason,” one of the men said. “How’ve you been?”
“I’ve been fine,” Jason replied. “How are things with you two?”
“Pretty good,” the other man answered. He looked inquiringly in my direction, and Jason introduced them to me.
“Jill, these are Bill and Randy,” Jason said, indicating first the initial speaker, a blondish man of medium height, and then the second man, a very good rendition of tall, dark, and handsome. “Gentlemen, please meet Jill.”
Randy was the first to extend his hand in greeting. “A pleasure to meet you, Jill,” he said, bowing slightly.
“My pleasure as well,” I told him, and I extended my hand to shake his. Bill just nodded and extended his hand also, so I released Randy’s and shook Bill’s as well. Randy looked a question at Jason, and he obviously knew what Randy had been thinking.
“Donna’s fine,” Jason said. “She’s at home this evening, and Jill is just a new friend who’s interested in the scene.”
“Well, in that case, you’re welcome for sure,” Randy said to me. “We’re always interested in finding new faces, especially ones as pretty as yours.”
He smiled, and I noted with considerable appreciation that he was carefully keeping his eyes on my face rather than looking me up and down as so many men tended to do. Bill, on the other hand, had been casually checking out my figure, and while he was being discreet about it I was not as happy to be in his presence. I knew I was attractive, but it was especially refreshing to have Randy behave the way he was in a gathering of people he was most likely accustomed to seeing wearing little if any clothing while they were playing.
Our brief conversation with Bill and Randy was interrupted by the start of the meeting right at eight o’clock. The two men waved politely as Jason led me away and we took seats. After some preliminary announcements of upcoming events by the BR board members and special interest group happenings from the SIG leaders, the meeting moved on to the presentation of the evening, a talk about and demonstration of fire play. I’d never done or even seen fire play, so I was very interested in what I might learn.
The presenter was introduced as Dan, and his subject, an attractive brunette, was introduced as Nancy. While the group gathered around the demo area, Dan laid out a set of items on a small side table and Nancy stripped down to just a black thong. Then Dan assisted Nancy as she used a step-stool to climb onto a rectangular folding-leg table that was covered with a sheet; she pulled her long ponytail over her shoulder, away from her back, and lay on her stomach.
“There’s not a lot to talk about before I begin the demo,” Dan started. “Everything needed for fire play,” he gestured to the array of materials he’d set out, “ is here on this table. We have a bottle of 70-percent isopropyl alcohol, and that’s what you should use; the 91-percent version burns too hot and can damage the skin. Next we have the wands.” He held up two dowels that looked to be an eighth of an inch in diameter; they each had a ball of white cotton fabric wrapped tightly around one end. “We have a glass jar with a lid,” he held it up, it was about the size of a jelly jar, “a votive candle in a glass holder, and a pack of matches.”
“Have you ever done fire play?” I whispered to Jason.
“Yes, several times,” he replied. “I bought a kit some years ago; it came packed in a metal case a little larger than the sheet-metal lunch boxes that grammar-school kids used to tote many years ago.”
While we were whispering, Dan had removed the lid, put the wands into the jar, and poured in enough alcohol to completely cover the balls of fabric at their heads. Now he lit the candle and ran his palm gently over Nancy’s back, butt, and thighs. She sighed gently, no doubt well aware of what was coming.
“As some of you know, and others may have guessed, it’s a really good idea for the areas of skin that are going to be touched during a fire-play scene to not have any hair.” There were several knowing chuckles throughout the space. “Aside from the fact that it would burn, the smell is not the most pleasant scent in the world. Now let’s get going.”
Dan took one of the wands out of the jar. The head wasn’t dripping, but by then the ball of fabric had to be thoroughly saturated with alcohol. He waved the head of the wand across the candle flame and the ball immediately showed a mostly-blue flame, not a large amount of fire but enough for me to see that the alcohol had been ignited. Dan ran the ball across Nancy’s shoulders and immediately followed it with the palm of his other hand, extinguishing the flaming alcohol that the fabric ball had left as his hand slid along her skin.
“That is the essence of the play,” Dan said. As he immersed the head of the wand back into the jar, he continued, “The alcohol in the jar deprived the fire of oxygen and doused it.” He repeated the display, sliding the wand down her spine from near her neck to her waist. She wasn’t loud, but this time I distinctly heard Nancy hum in apparent pleasure at the sensation.
“It’s really not that hot,” Jason whispered. “It’s warm, and very sensual, but he’s moving his hand soon enough after the wand passes that there’s not enough time for the fire to burn her skin, other than maybe a little redness if he allows a bit more time.”
“It looks amazing,” I whispered back. “I think I’d like to feel it sometime.”
After several more passes on Nancy’s back, butt, and upper legs, Dan had her turn over. He drew circles of fire around her nipples a couple of times and then actually put the flame directly on them. Nancy’s hums and moans got louder and more emphatic; each time he put the fire on her breasts her nipples got harder, and she began to writhe each time Dan lit up her skin. Then, after he ran a circle around her navel, he slid her thong down to her knees. When he put the fire directly on her shaved labia and her clitoris, Nancy shivered in what looked a lot like a mini-orgasm.
*
The meeting broke up after the demo, and I felt a quiver of anticipation as we walked to Jason’s car. He helped me into the passenger seat and then leaned over me to latch the tab of my belt into its socket. It was another instance of Jason taking control of me, and I was even more excited than I’d been earlier in the evening. The scent of his cologne wafted into my nostrils; my lips brushed over his cheek, my nipples stiffened, and my imagination flared with mental images of what Jason might do when we got to my house. But there was something I needed to tell him first. So after he went around the car, got it started, and headed for the highway I turned partway to my left and faced him.
Jason glanced in my direction, then returned his eyes to the road ahead. “Well, Jill, what do you think about this evening so far?”
I found the fire-play demonstration interesting,” I replied, “and Nancy certainly seemed to enjoy it. So I think I’d like to try it myself sometime.”
Jason chuckled, then asked, “Anything else, Jill? What about the guys I introduced you to?”
“I smiled at him. “I think I’d like to get to know Randy better if he has a similar interest.”
“I’ll see what I can find out about that,” Jason said. “I’m pretty sure I can guess, but I’ll talk with him and let you know what he says.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now let’s go to what’s next on the agenda. Unbutton your blouse.”
He was starting to get physical with me, sexually physical, and my juices began to flow. Jason reached his right hand into my blouse and played with my breasts; he tweaked my nipples until they were stiff and then alternated between lightly pinching them and caressing the skin around them until I was squirming from my steadily increasing arousal. I managed to keep my torso still but my hips were moving in short jerks and my secretions had flooded my thong and begun oozing down my upper thighs. By the time we got to the house I was taking quick short breaths and trying, mostly successfully, to keep from moaning.
Jason parked and shut off the engine. Then he got out and walked to the trunk, opened it, and removed a large duffel before coming to my door. When he opened it and extended his arm, I put one hand in his while holding my blouse closed with the other and he helped me out. As we walked up to my door, I reached into my purse and grabbed my keys.
After a moment of fumbling, I got the key into the lock and opened the door. As soon as we were inside with the door closed, knowing Jason’s preferences, I kicked off my flats and stepped into the stilettos I’d left in the foyer. As I raised my eyes from the floor, I could see a slight smile pass across his lips and I knew I was in for a pleasurable time.
Jason knew the route to my basement from his previous visit and he led me to the stairs, switched on the light, then took me down into my private dungeon, taking ownership of me even within my own house. When we were standing in the open space in the center of the room, he gestured and I started stripping off my clothes. I had to take off my shoes to get my slacks off, but I immediately put them back on and stood before him completely naked otherwise. I could smell my arousal and I was sure he could as well.
The first time Jason was here he stood me in the center of the space and attached me to a bar he hung with ropes from hooks in the ceiling beam. This time he led me to the St. Andrew’s cross that stood at an angle in one corner of the basement. He used short lengths of chain to attach his suspension cuffs to the top corners of the cross at a good height for me, then turned to face me.
“I appreciate your attention to my likes,” he said, “but I think it’ll be safer on the cross this first time if you take the shoes off.”
I stepped out of the heels and took a couple of steps to stand directly in front of the cross. “How do you want me?” I asked.
“Facing the cross, as you are,” he replied, and I stepped up a few inches onto the wooden box at its base and raised my arms. Jason put the cuffs around my wrists and fastened them. I turned my head and saw him walk back a few paces and appear to thoughtfully survey the scene. Then he reached into his duffel and withdrew a chrome-handled blue flogger with tails about 18 inches long.
Jason moved to stand behind me, took the ends of the flogger’s fall in his left hand, and ran the tips of the tails lightly across my shoulders. I hadn’t been the least bit anxious, but now my shoulders slumped and I relaxed completely to the gentle sensations. My breathing was slow and steady as he ran the tail tips down my spine and then brushed them back and forth a few times on my behind, and my nipples stood up as my arousal increased.
He moved to my right side and swung the flogger repeatedly across my shoulder blades. He used a steady rhythm, not too fast, and the fall fell consistently across my upper back as he gradually increased the strength of his strikes. I grasped the cuff handles and kept my torso still, but my hips began to sway as the sensations started to really warm my skin … and my thoughts.
After a few minutes, Jason stopped the flogger and ran his hand over my back. I thrilled to his touch and my hip-swaying became more emphatic. Then his hand slid up the front of my rib cage and cupped my right breast, and I moaned and pressed my chest forward. My nipples had been standing more and more firmly throughout the flogging, and now the right one hardened to a tight knot of insistent pleasure as his palm slid across it. Then I felt Jason’s breath on the back of my neck as he moved behind me, laid the flogger on my left shoulder, and cupped my other breast in his left hand.
“Are you having a good time?” he whispered into my ear.
“You know I am,” I whispered back.
“That’s good,” he crooned. “Let’s see if we can make it even better.”
I suddenly felt bereft as Jason removed his hands and the flogger from my body, and I turned my head to watch him return to his duffel and remove a second flogger, a twin to the first. Now he stood directly behind me and began a dazzling display, moving both implements simultaneously in a virtuoso demonstration of Florentine flogging.
I turned back to face the cross and bent my head down, reveling in the tingles and the increasing warmth of the skin on my back. Then Jason moved the floggers from my back to my ass, again starting with light strokes but gradually increasing the intensity. He started with one flogger but then resumed the Florentine action, and I felt my behind growing warmer as each pair of swats became harder and stung more. I sank into the sensations, feeling the endorphin rush and processing the pain into increasing pleasure, climbing faster and faster up the mountain towards my peak.
Suddenly Jason stopped, and then I felt the fall of one of the floggers slide gently between my upper thighs. The continuation of that stroke caused the tips of the tails to land softly against my bare pussy and slap gently against my clitoris, and I was instantly overwhelmed. I cried out in ecstasy and my body shivered and shook as a strong orgasm washed over me. I held on with my hands but hung limply with my knees unable to support me.
Jason approached and put his arm around my waist to support me and take my weight off my arms, and I croaked out thanks from my suddenly-dry mouth and throat. He held me until I was able to stand on my own and then released me.
“Wow,” was all I could say. “That really surprised me.”
“I was hoping for that kind of reaction, but it was much more intense than I could have imagined. You’re amazing.”
“I had some very good encouragement,” I told him, and we both smiled.
“Are you ready for more?” he asked.
“I’m always ready for whatever you’re willing to give me,” I said, and he had the grace to blush as he turned away and returned once again to his duffel.
*
Jason returned to my right side and caressed both my breasts, first sliding his palm across them and then focusing on my still-stiff nipples, tweaking them between his thumb and forefinger and making them even harder. Despite that orgasm, I was still fully aroused, and I groaned and swayed my hips as he pushed me higher. Then he stopped teasing them, and a moment later I felt something squeeze my left nipple. I gasped at the sudden sharp twinge, and after a couple of seconds my right nipple got the same treatment. A chain brushed the skin above my belly and its weight tugged on the clamps, tightening them.
“Good girl,” Jason whispered.” I looked down and saw a clover clamp dangling from each of my nipples. That type of clamp can be bought in any fabric store; only the chain connecting them indicated that they’d been adapted for this purpose. I felt his warm breath caress my cheek and I turned my head so our lips met. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth; Jason pushed his tongue out and I welcomed it with my own. I pressed my mouth to his with increased force, hoping the intensity of my response would signal how much I wanted, how much I needed, more of his attention.
After many seconds, Jason broke the kiss. “I got your silent message,” he said, “but now I want to distract you for a little while.”
Jason moved a few inches away from my right hip and then a whistling sound was followed by a sharp pain in my left ass cheek. I danced a bit from one foot to the other, and that motion caused the chain to swing and pull down a bit on the clamps. “Ouch!” I exclaimed, and then I cried out wordlessly as a second strike hit the right side of my ass. “What is that, Sir?”
“It’s my favorite crop,” he answered. “Do you like it?”
What a question! It stung, of course, but it also felt good, and I knew I was getting closer and closer to another big orgasm.
“Yes,” I whispered, “I like it.”
Jason didn’t reply in words; he just hit me again, slowly alternating cheeks and giving me time to settle between strikes. After a few more hits, Jason reached in and hung a weight on the chain, and the pain in my nipples increased. Then he slid the crop around and around on my belly, just above my pussy. I was pretty sure I knew what would happen next, and Jason didn’t disappoint me. The crop struck directly on my engorged clit, another rush of endorphins suffused my body, and I blasted off for heaven.
“Eeeaaahhh,” I screamed as my body shook and shivered in a spectacular orgasm. The clamps bounced with each bodily motion, but the added pain, moderated but not eliminated by the hormones flowing through me, just complemented and enhanced the pleasurable sensations. Jason dropped the crop and lightly stroked my clit with one hand while holding me around the waist with the other until I started to come down from that peak. Then he removed the clamps, unbuckled the cuffs, and led me on my shaky legs to the open sofa-bed at the end of the play-space.
*
Jason laid me down on the bed and then stretched out beside me, still fully clothed, on his side with his left arm under my neck. He pulled me close to him, and we snuggled together as the last of my endorphin-fueled excitement bled off and my heart rate finally returned to normal. I reached out and began unbuttoning his shirt.
“That’s not necessary,” he said, and he placed his other hand over mine to stay it. “I’ve had a great time, but the high I got from our play this time wasn’t driven by sexual arousal.”
“Does that mean you don’t want me?” I pouted.
“Of course not,” he replied. “I want you as much as I did the first time we played. It’s just that this time I’m not as sexually driven as I was then, maybe just not as horny, and I just want to enjoy this closeness with you.”
“Then let me please you,” I told him. “Give me the chance to show my appreciation for the pleasure you’ve given me.”
“Okay, if you insist I won’t stop you.” He rolled onto his back and pulled both pillows under his head so he was partially sitting up.
I slithered down the bed until I was able to slide off the end, stand up, and slowly, lovingly, remove his shoes and socks. Then I crawled back onto the bed on all fours and unbuckled his belt. He lifted his hips and I slid his pants and briefs down his legs in one motion. Then, before I went any further, I crawled backwards off the bed and walked the few steps to where I’d left my heels. I’d stepped into them and started back to the bed when Jason gave a wolf whistle of appreciation, and I swear I saw his cock twitch.
“J.P. said it exactly right,” he exclaimed.
“Who?” I stopped walking and stood with a quizzical expression on my face.
“J.P. Richardson, commonly known as The Big Bopper, was an early rock-n-roller who died young in the same plane crash as Buddy Holly and Ritchie Valens. In his biggest hit, Chantilly Lace, he sang, ‘Whoa, baby, that’s what I like,’ and looking at you now those are exactly my sentiments.”
I smiled and resumed my walk back to the bed, sashaying with a more obvious sway to my hips. When I had resumed my place next to Jason, I took his cock in my hand and began slowly stoking its full length. It gradually stiffened, and when he was completely erect I swung my leg over him and settled my ass on his upper legs. I sat up straight and rested the backs of my thighs on the pointed heels of my stilettos, then moved up and forward until his cock was poised below my pussy.
“I know it’s not a submissive position,” I said, “but I’d like to be able to do all the work of pleasing you.”
Jason nodded, so I took his cock in hand and lowered myself onto it in the cowgirl position. I was still very wet, so he slid in easily all the way to the root in a single motion. When he was firmly seated, I squeezed my vaginal muscles, thankful that I’d done my kegel exercises, and began a slow rising and descending, using his cock to mimic my exercise motions. He smiled, then closed his eyes and pressed the back of his head into the pillows as my efforts really started to affect him. His breathing became quicker and more shallow, and I watched as he opened his eyes and reached for my breasts.
I was still very aroused, and when he closed his hands on me and pinched my nipples I knew I was close to coming myself. It was increasingly hard to maintain my pace, but I kept at it, and suddenly he gasped and I felt his hot cum pulsing deep into my pussy. That pushed me over the edge and I wailed in ecstasy; I slammed myself down on his cock and rode it out, unable to move my lower body any longer.
*
After I collapsed onto Jason’s chest and he rolled me onto my side next to him, we lay quietly, comfortably, until our heart rates and our breathing returned to normal. Then Jason led off a conversation I’d expected would happen.
“That was a wonderful reprise,” he started, “and I hope it satisfied the first of your two desires for this evening.”
“It certainly did,” I replied. “Tonight was everything I’d hoped for ever since our first scene with each other.”
“So now we turn to the second of your desires,” he continued.
“I know you’re not available for a long-term relationship, and I’m not happy about that, but I’ve known all along that was the case, so I’m not really disappointed. I do hope Randy is interested in me.”
“I’ll find out,” Jason told me, and then he moved to get up from the bed.
“May I please have a last kiss, Sir?” I begged him.
“You may certainly have a kiss, Jill, and I sincerely doubt it will be the last one we share.”
I raised my lips to his, he leaned down to meet me, our tongues danced an erotic tango, and I hoped and prayed his last words were prophetic.
Copyright © 2020 by Left Side Signals
