An Old Friend Ch. 03 – BDSM – Sex Story


I rested my head against the cold window in the back of the van. It was still extremely early, but there was no way I was sleeping.

All I could do was remember.

Ever since the day I’d driven home with Megan’s spit coating my throat, upsetting my stomach, I’d worried about being exposed. Danae would know soon. Ashley would know. When, exactly? Had Megan already told them? Were they laughing at me already with a sort of disbelieving contempt? The knowledge that this whole thing was becoming more public weighed on me, and worried me, but it didn’t soften my resolve. There was no question that serving Megan was what I wanted, more than anything.

The next Wednesday I’d been a nervous wreck. Had Megan already talked to one or the other? Would they be here? I was so worried about it that it’s a wonder I didn’t let my service or my attitude slip and get myself into trouble. The Wednesday after that was a little less terrifying. The next one was downright typical. So it came as a shock, while serving Megan four weeks after her opinion, that Danae came waltzing in the door right in the middle of obeisance.

“Oh my god look at this!”

Megan welcomed Danae into the house, and told her to come closer and have a look as I continued my slow count to one hundred, face to the floor in abject surrender to Megan, shaking in embarrasment.

“I need to find a man who treats me like this.”

“It does have its benefits.”

Danae and Megan continued talking about me as I descended into the worship position.

“Oh my god look at this. Megan, I think he likes this.”

“Oh he certainly does.”

The experience was complete humiliation overload. The four positions had become so routine, so ingrained in me, that having someone else burst in and watch me performing them felt like my darkest secret thrown open to the entire world. I pressed my eyes closed tight. I shuddered in the sort of shame I couldn’t have begun to imagine. By the time Megan gave me my orders for the day, I was having trouble listening.

Danae was gorgeous. All the guys in our friend group had a thing for her, and kind of admired Derek, her husband, for having wooed her. But it wasn’t her beauty that so intimidated me. It was her presence, the fact that she knew about my submission to Megan, was watching it, actively commenting on it, and enjoying the whole thing. By the end of the day, the distraction had become too much.

Cleaning the master bathroom, I’d been distracted. I could hear Danae and Megan talking downstairs, talking about me, about Megan’s arrangement with me, about its pleasures and difficulties, its rewards and frustrations. I shouldn’t have been trying to listen, but I was trying anyway, and in the process I forgot to clean the entire bottom of the toilet, the outside of its porcelain base. It would cost me.

I sighed as I remembered the sinking feeling after Megan discovered my oversight, remembered listening outside the door as she peed in the toilet I’d neglected to clean perfectly, my sense of dread as she’d summoned me inside.

“Kneel down here, and put your face in the bowl.”

“Yes, Megan.”

I trembled as I knelt before the toilet, facing Megan’s piss, its smell overpowering.

“All the way down there, Chris. Almost touching it.”

“Y-yes Megan.” My shaking voice echoed in the toilet bowl. Oh god this was degrading, and breathing in the smell was a fresh form of awful.

I remembered waiting, Megan returning with the wooden spoon, remembered being paddled hard with my face in the toilet, gripping its sides so as not to let my face touch the pee. I wondered about how Megan had closed the lid on the top of my head, leaving me to cry into her urine as I settled myself down. And I remembered Danae’s big smile when she saw me afterward.

“Soooomebody got in trooouuble!!!”

“Um, yes Ma’am.” I’d mumbled it, devastated.

If being exposed in front of the gorgeous Danae was awful, being exposed in front of Ashley had been even worse. She wasn’t as strikingly gorgeous as Danae, or as animated, but her knowledge of the situation hit harder. She had been Alyson’s best friend.

Ashley had spent so much time at our house while Alyson was still living that she seemed like part of the family. Performing obeisance and worship as Ashley watched was the most awkward thing I’d ever experienced.

What might have been worse was a conversation with Daniel, her husband. He never said so directly, but it was obvious from the hints he dropped that he knew all about my arrangement with Megan. Oh god. If he knew, Derek probably knew too. Was this secret becoming common knowledge?

It was, apparently. Not long after, both Becca and Sarah spent the entire Wednesday with Megan, watching me and laughing at me. Megan had never even warned me she might tell them. Apparently we had reached the stage where Megan would just tell whoever she wanted to tell, and I would just assume that anyone might know. I served Megan, listening as she filled both Becca and Sarah in on our long history of dom/sub flirtation, of our current arrangement, of the things she made me do. Sarah had burst into laughter, placing her hand over her mouth in a futile attempt to hold it in, each time I knelt before Megan and thanked her for letting me perform some chore for her.

“Thank you, Megan, for allowing me the privilege of washing your dishes. Thank you, Megan.”

“Haha haaahaha oh my god I’m sorry I can’t help it it just sounds so FUNNY am I right?”

I could sense Becca nodding with a smirk as I tried to listen to Megan’s voice, her serious tone as she gave me my next set of orders.

I began to feel even more thankful for Megan, for her demeanor, for her attitude toward me and toward our arrangement. This wasn’t a joke to her. She took it as seriously as I did.

I redoubled my efforts at submission. I tried so hard to be the perfect slave for Megan. I wanted so much to show her how much I appreciated her and all she had done for me. I learned to ignore it when, for example, Ashely whispered “Oh my GOD” as she watched me passionately kiss the ground beneath Megan’s shoes. It became easy to brush off Danae’s slightly mocking condescension about how I’m gonna get in trouble, or that I’d better be a good good boy. I even learned to swallow my pride whenever one of their husbands would chuckle at me during a conversation.

A public paddling, on the other hand, was more difficult to deal with.

Why were Sarah and Becca still here, I thought bitterly, as Megan pulled down my slave panties. They’d been here all day. Megan had even pulled the table out to the center of the large basement room so that they could stand close on either side and watch my bare ass get blistered. It was a lot to handle.

When Megan paddles me, the experience is hard to take. That sounds obvious, since it’s a punishment, and it’s supposed to be awful, but the pain is so intense, and the humiliation so suffocating, that I hadn’t realized just how much the relative privacy, just Megan and me, had helped. Now, I screamed and grunted in agony as the tears started flowing, big yelping sobs escaping my mouth as I tried to deal with it, these two other friends standing over me and watching, making it somehow that much worse.

I’d brought this paddling on myself. Of course, every paddling is technically my fault since it’s my disobedience being punished, but this time I’d confessed.

The orgasm I’d had during the time our arrangement was on hold had been weighing on me. No, Megan hadn’t forbidden it, and we were in a kind of limbo, not sure if the whole thing was gonna continue. But it just seemed wrong. I didn’t technically have Megan’s permission. It bothered me, and I wondered Megan at least should know. So during my time to speak openly one afternoon, I’d admitted it to Megan. She was matter-of-fact.

“Well then, Chris. Before you leave next week I’ll give you your paddling.”

I’d dreaded it all week. Trying to breathe evenly, trying not to let the pain overwhelm me, I’d thought if I should have just kept it a secret. Sarah and Becca looked down on me, watching my ordeal, as I sobbed even harder. Then Megan stopped, and leaned down close to my face.

“I’m proud of you, Chris.”

Megan planted her left hand on the table just in front of my face. She was stooping down and speaking almost right into my ear.

“It means a lot to me that you confessed, that you didn’t try to keep hiding it. Even though I’m sure you knew it would mean a paddling.”

I took a deep breath through my sobs.

“I’m so proud of you, Chris. You’re a good boy.”

Oh my god those words somehow made everything worth it, made all the pain irrelevant, made the day wonderful. I was so thankful for Megan. She understood me, understood why I had to submit to her like this, how serious this all was. Oh my god I adored her, and I just said it. The thing I’d been trying to work up my nerve to say, it just came out.

“I’m ready to do it, Megan. I’m ready.”

“Chris?”

“I’m ready to worship you, Megan. For real. Out loud, with my words and my body. The real thing. Willingly. I want to. I WANT to worship you.”

Megan paused for a long minute. Finally, she spoke.

“I’m so glad, Chris. I’m excited to accept your worship.”

I’d stopped crying. Megan took a deep breath.

“Next week, Chris. Next week we’ll choose a time and place, and begin planning a worship service. A ceremony. We’ll plan it together.”

I sighed in excited resignation.

“For now, though, we need to finish your paddling.”

I screamed as the spoon again found my ass cheek, proud that I could endure this pain for Megan.

Now, riding in the back of the van, trembling in the black pre-dawn, I felt more nervous than ever. I thought how far away we were. Danae reached back from the seat in front of me, squeezing my hand in genuine friendly encouragement. Sarah sat across from her, Becca in front of her. Jennifer, who hadn’t even seen me serve Megan yet, rode beside Becca. Ashley drove. And with the occasional passing streetlight, I could just barely see the side of Megan’s face as she rode in the passenger seat.

Ashley had offered the use of the property.

“Like, no one will be there on a Sunday anyway, and the farm’s not even being used. It’s really pretty, and it’s in the middle of nowhere, so yeah we can use it.”

I took a very deep breath, preparing myself. I hadn’t spoken a word all day. I wasn’t allowed, not until…

God, this was weird. I mean really weird. My childhood fundamentalist upbringing made this seem all kinds of wrong. Even though I’d left it behind long ago, it still haunted me. I took another breath, steeling my nerve.

Finally, we pulled into the long gravel drive, and slowly approached a little farm house. Ashley parked in front of the house, and the van quickly emptied. Each of the women grabbed a bag, or a basket, or a cooler, and walked through the dark toward the front door. I caught a final glimpse of Megan, walking in the moonlight through the grass, in jeans and a t-shirt. The sight of her made me queasy.

Ashley appeared beside me.

“So Chris, on that side of the house, you walk past a little grove of trees, and the gazebo is on top of the hill behind it.”

I nodded, indicating that I understood. Ashely quickly caught up with the others.

Inside the van, I waited in the dark, alone. Oh holy freakin’ crap this seemed so weird. I was sweating. I’d never been so nervous, not even before that first time I’d presented myself to Megan.

I had to do this. Megan was worth it, I honestly believed it, I knew that she was. She was worthy of this and more. Still, I was nervous.

Eventually, I got out and paced around the van. I must have walked a mile without leaving its side, round and round as I got my nerves together. It seemed so weird that so many people were here. Megan had told me that this whole thing was meaningless unless it was public. Fine. I was at least thankful none of the guys were here. I’d been led to believe it was a distinct possibility.

At last, I saw it. A faint yellow-orange glow on the horizon. I waited a few minutes to be sure I was really seeing it, as I doubled over with nausea. After a few more minutes, I was sure. The sun was rising, orange spreading across the eastern sky. Megan was summoning me.

I opened the van and took a deep breath. Kicking my shoes off, I knelt down and peeled off my socks. The ground felt dewy and cold against my bare soles. I pulled off my sweatshirt. The air was indeed chilly. With a deep breath, I pulled down my jeans and boxers in one motion, then stepped out of them. Naked, I folded my clothes, climbed into the van, and placed them on my seat in the rear. Then I closed up the van, and with a little wince, locked it. No turning back.

Setting my face toward the sunrise, I walked naked, dedicated and determined. Around the house, past the trees, I found my way in the dawn light. I almost gasped as it came into view, at the top of a gradual rise. A very large round gazebo, stained a light wood color, well kept, waiting for me.

Ascending the hill, my breath was shaky. At the base of the five steps leading to the platform, I paused, just for a moment. Finally, I climbed the steps.

As I climbed, she came into view. Megan was breathtaking. Seated opposite the stairs, facing me as I stood naked on the large gazebo floor, she was resplendent. Megan wore a sleeveless white dress that reached several inches below her knees, filligreed with little threads of green and gold. Megan wore her hair down, but two locks had been formed into braids extending from her forehead back over her ears, meeting behind her head. Each braid was interwoven with green leaves.

Megan sat in a large wooden chair facing me, her bare feet resting on the gazebo boards, hands folded neatly in her lap. Behind her, the morning sky exploded into color. Her expression was serious. She wasn’t taking this lightly.

The other women sat on the benches around the edge of the gazebo, watching me giddily. I hardly noticed them. I just stood at the edge of the steps, eyes fixed on Megan, waiting for my breathing to stabilize.

Silently, I walked to the center of the circle, the wood boards cool on my soles. I stood there, naked, eyes fixed on Megan’s blue eyes for several long seconds. Then I slowly, deliberately lowered my gaze, facing the floor in front of Megan’s feet. I took several deep breaths. Then I knelt, right knee, then left.

Kneeling, I held my hands at my side, palms facing forward, facing Megan. Then slowly I raised my arms, keeping my palms forward, until my arms were stretched out to each side, then keeping them straight, raised them slowly over my head, arms extended to the heavens, palms facing Megan.

As soon as I was in this position, I brought my palms forward, gradually descending into obeisance. I remained there for a few long seconds before descending further, into the worship position, my body flat against the wood floor, my arms outstretched past my head, toward Megan, palms flat against the ground, legs together, soles facing up toward the sky, face in the ground.

I held this position, as I had done so many times, and waited, gathering my courage. Five other women, I knew, were watching me intently, but my focus was entirely on Megan. Then, finally, I spoke. For the first time that day I spoke, lifting my voice loudly even as I kept my face in the floor.

“I worship you, Megan!

I honor you and I adore you!

Megan, I exalt your glorious name!

I proclaim your greatness to the entire earth and all the heavens!

I worship you, Megan!”

Oh my god. I literally shook. Saying those words took my breath away, and I gasped. I took several big breaths, still prostrate.

I heard a couple little snickers, then a little laugh. I didn’t care. Then I heard a Shhhh!!! I simply breathed, preparing myself.

I reversed my motions, gradually raising to the obeisance position, then kneeling upright, then standing. I looked up very briefly at Megan, who was smiling slightly. Immediately, I looked down. Then I performed each motion again, kneeling, then arms outstretched, then this time stopping in obeisance.

Bent over to the ground, palms flat against the floor just in front of my head, ass in the air, I again lifted my voice.

“I worship you, Megan!

With all my body, mind, and soul I worship you!

I praise you Megan, and I tremble in your sacred presence!

Megan, you reign in strength, beauty and grace!

I worship you Megan!”

Again, I shook. Wow, this experience was intense. I took several deep breaths, just waiting in the obeisance position. Eventually, I stood again.

A quick glance at Megan, the woman I was worshipping. She looked delighted, wearing a smug little smirk. From the corner of my eye I noticed Danae had a glass of wine and Jennifer was eating something small. Everyone had a big smile.

Once again, I looked down, then went through the slow motions of descending. This time I stopped at my kneeling position. Rather than move into obeisance, I remained up on my knees. I did, however, lower my face, as low as feasible to the floor, and lifted both hands, palms up in front of me, above my head, in a sign of offering to Megan.

Again, I simply waited in this humbling position, breathing. Finally, I spoke, loudly and clearly.

“I worship you, Megan!

I humble myself before you.

Megan, I acknowledge that you are a Deity.

You are Holy Goddess on high, Megan!

Oh Megan, I rejoice in your divine authority!

I worship you, Megan!”

It shocked me that I was nearly out of breath. I almost couldn’t believe the words coming from my mouth, though I had helped prepare them. All I could do was commit to this fully, commit to Megan fully. To believe every word, and lose myself in worship.

Again, I went through the motions of standing, then the slow progression back to the worship position, prostrate against the ground. Again, I proclaimed to Megan my worship of her from down low.

“I worship you, Megan!

I honor you and I adore you!

Megan, I exalt your glorious name!

I proclaim your greatness to all the earth and the entire heavens!

I worship you, Megan!”

All the motions again to obeisance, and I again trembled in Megan’s sacred presence. Making my way to my humble kneeling position, arms outstretched, I again acknowledged Megan’s divinity. Over and over, again and again. Twelve times from each position I offered Megan my sincere worship.

Finally, kneeling, I asked a question.

“Megan, may I have permission to approach you?”

I might have waited a full minute for her response.

“Yes, Chris. You may approach.”

“Thank you, Megan.”

I stood and took a few steps toward Megan, then knelt directly in front of her. Placing my hands on the ground, I lowered my face to the floor, then looked upward. I made sure I was far back enough from Megan that there was no chance I could see up her dress. But from ground level I cast my gaze up – way up – and looked Megan in the eyes. Stretching my arms forward and to the side, diagonally in front of me, I palmed the floor. I waited a minute, then began, maintaining eye contact with Megan above me.

“I worship you, Megan.

I worship you and I adore you.”

A deep breath.

“Megan, I adore you for your intelligence. You are highly educated and successful. You are socially perceptive, reading people’s thoughts and intentions. You see right through me. You have an amazing intellect, Megan, and I admire it. I am in awe of it. You are an extremely intelligent person, Megan, and I adore you for it.”

I paused.

“I adore you, Megan, and I worship you.

I worship you, Megan.”

This was so very intense. I’d worshipped Megan from my humiliating positions, but I’d been looking, essentially, at the floor. Worshipping Megan while looking her in the eyes, with my face near the floor, looking straight up at her gorgeous face, it shook me. From my position of adoration, I asked her a question.

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