"Let me show you around the place," he said. Gently pulling upwards, his hand in my hair got me up before he released me. When we were clear of the tables, he put his hand in the small of my back. It felt so big.
"This area in here is a public play space. Where people can play, and also watch others play." He told me about the different toys and instruments. Floggers. Canes. A flogging bench. The hooks in the ceiling for suspension bondage. All the time, I could feel him focusing on me, trying to read my reactions. "This isn't really your thing, is it? The masochism bit, I mean. I think, maybe, if you dared, you'd like to be seen here, on display, though." He was right. The thought of pain didn't excite me. The humiliation of others watching me as I was punished, though...
"If you want to, we could try it. Right now. No pressure, and remember, if you're uncomfortable, you can always code. That is, use the code word to make it stop. In this club, it's red, by the way." His proposal was definitely arousing, but it seemed like too much, too fast. I wasn't ready for that. I was, I realized, too shy. He picked up on that, as well.
Continuing the tour, he took me past cages and a bench with a big, powered dildo attached to it. We came to the end of a hall. "Here, we have private rooms. Perfect if someone's a bit shy, like you." Saying that, he pushed me. Not hard, but enough to make me stumble, into one of the rooms. As I turned, he stood in the doorway, blocking it. "I want you to call me Sir," he said.
My mouth went dry. My heart was racing. Panic. No. Intense heat between my legs, slippery wetness. Arousal. I gulped. "Yes, Sir,"
"Good girl," he said, and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "You want a man to boss you around, you said. Someone like me. And not just in the bedroom, I think. You want a man who is your boss both in and out of the bedroom. A man who decides, who makes your choices for you, who controls you. Am I right?"
"Yes, Sir."
"I am going to be that man. You are going to be my girl."
"Yes, Sir." The tone of his voice made me fearful to deny him, at the same time as the things he was saying were pushing all the right buttons. This wasn't healthy, I told myself, this was pushing too far, too soon. But at the same time, it wasn't. He had read me so well, and I, both the Mark-side of me and the Melanie-side, felt like I could trust him.
"I want to see you naked. Strip."
Silently, I complied, unbuttoning my dress, letting it fall to the floor. The bra was easy to unhinge, with non-existing years of muscle memory, and suddenly, my breasts were exposed to him. He smiled as he looked at them. I went for the socks. "No, keep them on."
I removed my panties, and he stepped in towards me. His size, my size, him clothed and me naked. Every aspect amplified the others. Amplified my feeling of vulnerability. My feeling of helplessness. My desire to let him decide. He touched me. First my face, gently caressing my chin and lips. Then down my neck, stopping half a second with a grip around my throat. Not hard, just firm enough to show that he was in control. Then, my breast. Feeling it up, massaging it, playing with the stiffening nipple. I shuddered as his touch sent flashes of pleasure down towards my crotch, up my spine.
And then, further down. Slowly, fingers tracing his way across my ribs, across my tummy, past my belly button, to the inside of my tigh. Skirting my mound, teasing me. I pressed towards him, squirmed, tried to get that finger to the right place. "Stand still," he said. And then, when I did, he slipped his finger in between my wet lips.
"You're tight," he stated. "Are you a virgin?" I affirmed. "Then I hope this won't hurt too much. I doubt it will, considering how wet you are. All that horniness contained, saved up, for me to exploit here today." He grinned. I realized I was, quite literally, going to be fucked in mere moments. He pushed me backwards towards the bed that took up most of the room. The bed had cuffs, and as he pressed me down on the bed, he climbed on top of me, took first my arms, and then my legs, and fastened them to the bed. The ropes gave me almost no room to move, and I lay, spreadeagled, truly helpless, with no choice at all but to enjoy the moment. I was going to lose my virginity. Soon, Sir would be deep up inside me, filling me with his cum. Impregnating me.
Fuck! As he stood before me, undressing, about to climb on top of me, I realized something. "I'm not on the pill," I said. "If you don't use a condom, you could get me pregnant." The way I said it, it didn't sound so much a request for him to use a condom as merely information, something he should be aware of before deciding what to do. There *was* a part of me that wanted him to use a condom. A part of me that started to think that this was all going too far. That this experiment had been a mistake. But there was also a part of me that hoped he would choose not to wear a condom. That wanted to feel him bare inside of me. That wanted...
"Wouldn't you like that?" His thumb was on my clit, a pressure was growing inside of me. "Wouldn't it make you happy to feel your mans potent seed spilling into your fertile womb? To, maybe, have my child grow inside you?" As he said those words, the heat in my crocth erupted. I twitched, jerked, moaned, as the flashes of pleasure became lightning bolts, travelling up and down my spine. Writhing, seizuring, with no control, at his touch and his suggestion that I could end up pregnant with his child. As my convulsions started calming down, I felt him climb on top of me, felt the tip of his member at my opening. It slid in, splitting me. It felt like... I couldn't believe how something that big would fit inside me. I had known Eric was well-endowed, but this felt like a monster. Was I just that tight? I hadn't actually caught a glimpse of it, not out of his pants, though it had seemed pretty massive straining against them. "Please," I uttered. I wasn't able to think straight, the pleasure of having him penetrate deep inside me, of being helpless beneath this massive, dominant man, was short-circuiting my brain. I didn't know if I meant "please, stop", "please, harder", or maybe even "please, I need your cum inside me!" Maybe I meant all three, at the same time.
He was rough. There was no gentleness in him. He was in control, he was doing what he wanted regardless of what I wanted. That was what I wanted, and he knew that. I was scared. Scared that I might get pregnant, scared that he would actually hurt me. But I also wanted it. It was an emotional rollercoaster of fear, arousal and pleasure. I came twice more before I felt him twitch, felt him bury himself as deep as he could inside me, and felt him fill me with his hot seed.
As he withdrew and started unbuckling my limbs, I started crying. He lay down beside me, gently pushed me over on my side, spooning me. I felt, somehow, safe, enveloped by him. Enveloped by the man who had just roughly taken my virginity. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" he whispered in my ear. Gone was the roughness from before. He sounded caring, protective.
"I... I don't know," I whimpered. "What just happened... it was all so... so much. I'm sorry... Sir."
"Don't be," he said. "I pushed you. I pushed you almost to your breaking point. It's only natural that you'll have an emotional reaction. But look inside yourself." At that he moved a little bit back, got me over on my back, and put his hand on my chest. Above my heart. "Look inside here, and you know how right it felt. I know it. Your eyes tell me everything about you." He leant in, kissed my tear, as his hand slid down from my chest to my other pair of lips. "You are mine, and I am yours. You yearn to obey me, and I crave your obedience. You desire a man in your life that decide for you. You desire to be my housewife, subservient and loving, taken in hand, carrying my children and tending my home. Barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. I know there's a nagging fear inside you, that what we just did isn't right, isn't true. But this isn't going to be a one-night thing. You're coming home with me, and you're staying."
I didn't know what to say. I couldn't... I wasn't able to... he really did hit *all* the buttons that Melanie-me craved. I could feel my adoration for him surge. Maybe an hour with him, and I was crushing. Hard. My resistance was melting away. That fear I had felt... maybe I hadn't been afraid that I would get pregnant? Maybe I had been afraid that he would stop seeing me, that he *wouldn't*, at least at some point, get me pregnant? I was confused. The two parts of me were getting less distinct, the border between the Mark in the back of my mind, and the Melanie on top of him, getting fuzzy. Melanie clearly was into this, into him, clearly wanted to say yes. Clearly wasn't even able to say no. And Mark... Mark was wavering, wondering. Questioning, but meekly. Not enough to overpower her compulsion to submit to him. I came back. I couldn't... I wasn't able to tell him no. I needed to obey him. "Yes... Sir." I said.
He got up. "Good girl. Now, get dressed, and lets go back and join the others." He picked up my panties. "I*m going to take these. I want you to feel my seed coming out of you, running down your legs. I want you to savour the humiliation I am sure it brings to you, and let it remind you that you just lost your virginity. That you might now be with my child."
With that, dressed, he escorted me back up to his friends.