The First Date – BDSM – Sex Story


Let me begin by stating clearly that I’ve never been into bondage. That’s weird stuff for weird people. I’m not like that. So, admittedly, it’s surprising that I would be tied, spread eagle, to the four corners of a bed in front of a stranger.

“Do you trust me?” she asks.

Trust her? I only met her 2 hours ago. Of course, I don’t trust her! I’d be an idiot to trust her.

“Yes,” I said.

“Good,” she replied. “I sometimes don’t even trust myself. I can get carried away.”

Oh my God. What have I gotten myself into?

Let me go back to the beginning and explain how this insanity came about. I had just ended a long-term relationship, which meant that I hadn’t dated anyone else for a long time. So, I had been out of the dating scene and was out of practice. That why, when I came upon an ad for a dating service, I decided to try it. Enter Melissa. I loved her video, with her gorgeous face and sweet voice. She talked of her interests (many similar to mine), but did end the video by saying she liked light bondage. I didn’t even know what that meant, but if she wanted me to pretend to be a pirate and tie her up, sure, that’d be harmless. We arranged to meet at a local bar after work.

She was as pretty in person as in the video, with a lovely figure. A tall redhead, she wore tight fitting clothes that emphasized her curves. Clearly, she wasn’t modest about her body. Another positive. She was clever, funny, and had a ready smile. We hit it off and I was delighted when she suggested we go back to her place.

We had some more drinks, and although I was a little light headed, I cannot blame alcohol for my actions. Let’s just say lust drove me forward. (The first time that has ever happened – just kidding.) Melissa reminded me of her statement in the video, that she liked light bondage.

“Have you ever been tied up?” she asked.

“Er, not since I played Cowboys and Indians when I was 10 with my best friend,” I said, making light of the question.

“It’s very sensual,” she replied. “The lack of control, the utter dependence on another person for your needs, and your pleasure. It can be the most erotic and thrilling thing you’ve ever done. Are you game to try something a little adventurous?”

Put that way, it’s kind of hard to say no. Sorry, lady, I’m a wimp and not into pleasure or thrilling things.

“Sure, I’m up for it” I said.

“Great. Strip down to your underpants and lie on your back, on the bed.”

I knew there was something wrong with how this date was going. Isn’t the idea to remove the woman’s clothes?

“Er, will you be taking off your clothes too?” I asked, a little hesitantly.

“Would you like me to?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“Then I will.”

We both removed our outer clothes. She had a matching bra and panties outfit that was very fetching. The bra strained to contain her breasts, which swelled over the top. Very nice. My briefs are more pedestrian, but they were tight and showed off my man parts nicely.

I lay on her comfortable four poster bed, bare chested, wearing just the briefs, wondering what would happen next. She straddled me, her legs over my middle.

“Put your hands up, near the bed posts.”

I did, and from behind the posts she withdrew a Velcro covered strap, that she fastened around one wrist. Then the other wrist.

I was a little nervous, being imprisoned like that. But it happened quickly, before I had time to fully process what was happening.

“And now the legs,” she said.

Once my wrists were secured, I really didn’t have most say in this. She went to the foot of the bed and moved a leg to a corner post and fastened it. Then the other. I was spread eagled. Never in my life had I felt more vulnerable. There was a slight movement in my penis. I’m not sure if it was from sexual excitement or fear.

“OK, now let’s see what you’ve got,” she said.

And she produced a knife.

Gulp. What an idiot I am. I didn’t know this woman from Adam (or I guess, Eve), and I’ve allowed myself to be restrained by what I now see is a serial killer.

“What are you going to do with that knife?” I asked, trying not to be as panicked as I was starting to become.

“Do you trust me?” she asked.

“Yes,”

She smiled and grabbed the elastic of my briefs in her hands, and cut it with the knife. Then she cut my underwear into pieces and pulled it off my body. I was nude.

“You’ve ruined my shorts,” I dumbly stated the obvious.

“You won’t be needing clothes.”

“Let’s see the equipment,” she said, grabbing my scrotum. She fingered the testicles, as if she were a jeweler appraising precious gems. Then she pulled the penis to its full length.

“Adequate,” she said, “but I think we can get it to a more respectable size.”

With her hand, she began to massage it, stroking it, adding some saliva to her hand to make things slide easier. The penis, which had been flaccid (hard to be aroused when you’re expecting a serial killer to finish you off), succumbed to her ministrations. It grew in her hand, until it soared over my abdomen.

“Much better,” she said with a smile.

I wondered she would continue to massage it. Instead, she went to the dresser and return with a short strap, with leather strands. She stood over me. Then she used it to gently slap on my chest, inflicting small pain. She traveled down my front, striking the abdomen. Then made little flicking taps to the underside of the penis, causing it to bounce up and down. The erect penis, hard as a rock, didn’t initially feel pain. But the repeated tapping and rubbing along the length, combined to bring both pain and pleasure. With her other hand, she travelled below the scrotum, rubbing the underside. Her finger travelled to my anus and to my shock, she slowly crawled a finger into my ass. She pressed upward, and I jerked from the pressure. Semen began to seep from the penis.

“Not yet,” she said, as she released her finger. She wiped the semen away and smeared it on my stomach.

She stood up, and removed her bra and her panties. She positioned herself over my middle, and guided my penis into her. She rose and fell over me, letting the penis slide in and out. I couldn’t move much, being bound hand and feet, and she used me like a sex toy. She rocked on me, twisting, using a hand to rub her clitoris for greater effect. She moaned. Her nails dug into my chest, her hands rubbing my face. She squeezed down with her pelvis on the penis. The pressure, and the erotic sounds of her excitement, sent me over the edge and I spurted into her. I fell back, my body spent. She continued to rock on the softening penis, and climaxed then too. Her body fell over mine. Her lips found mine and she circled my mouth with her tongue.

“That was good, wasn’t it?” she said.

“God, yes,” was all I could say.

She reached up and freed first one of my hands, then the other. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her even closer.

“Do you always do this on a first date?” I asked.

She laughed. “No, of course not. Sometimes I let the guy tie me up.”

But I’m getting ahead of myself; that was our second date.

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