0 comments/ 23428 views/ 1 favorites Fetish Night Defloration Ch. 01 By: GoodGirlTurnedSlut I had had a bad week, in fact the most appalling week – top 3 on my list of worst weeks of my life. Going out to my first ever Fetish night with my beautiful banshee friend was supposed to help get me "back on the horse" as my darling husband put it. I wasn't all that sure. My body was so chronically high on adrenaline on that Saturday morning that I could barely cope with daytime London crowds and the fearful nausea just didn't seem to want to shift. At that point even meeting my wild friend seemed like more than I could handle. So when she didn't make it, I had the perfect excuse. At least 50% of me just wanted to go back home and hide, the other 50%... well, the other 50% is easily lured by temptation and too stubborn to be beaten. It's also the second 50% that got egged on by my husband to go and do it anyway. He didn't seem to care that I was anxious about being left in London by myself or that I'd never been to a club on my own. He did know that once I was there, I'd be in good hands though. I was meeting a great couple we'd swung with before. Lovely, warm, safe and fun people – just what I needed. I also knew that he would give me the most beautiful athletic fucking and that she was keen to spank my arse in the process. So in the end I'd texted them to say that I was by myself, but still wanted to come out if they could give me a lift home afterwards. The text that came back said "No worries, just pleasure." How can a girl resist that kind of invitation? Nevertheless, as I wriggled into my G-string and black corset in the toilets of Waterloo station, I felt nervous. I decided to leave my beautiful virginal red suede and black leather collar in my handbag for a while longer. The rest I could disguise under my clothes, but the collar was a little too hardcore to be just an interesting fashion statement. I felt faintly guilty, when I encountered the lengthy queue outside my cubicle, but guilt wasn't really an emotion I could afford that day. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. My husband's picture flashed up frantically on its screen and it took a while for my shaky fingers to stop fumbling with the slider bar. "Just making sure you are still going," said his warm familiar voice. "I'm here now. If I was going to chicken out, I would have come home with you." "Just checking." He gets such a thrill out of me being bad, even when he's not part of it. He is comfortable being a little tamer – letting me be his wild child by proxy. A wild child he so badly and proudly encourages. I needed a bit of encouragement that night, as I hailed a cab to take me to the club. The driver seemed intrigued by the peculiar address – a business park at 11 pm on a Saturday night? "Are you going to one of those parties then? One of those secret swingers' parties?" he asked me from behind the screen. "It's fetish night tonight actually, but not so secret it seems." "Well, I'm a taxi driver...." He left his voice trailing. I was feeling a little flirtatious now. "So as a taxi driver you know about parties..." I saw him smile in the rear view mirror. "So where's your outfit then?" "Under my clothes... it's not really suitable for streetwear. There's not very much too it." He swallowed. "How are you getting home afterwards?" Now I was smiling. "Don't worry, some friends are taking me back." He was silent then. The block of the commercial unit that housed the club was probably one of the weirder club locations I'd been to. The brightly lit entrance door gave nothing away of what lay inside. I passed the friendly doorman and headed up the stairs, down the non-descript looking corridor and towards the reception desk. It was an oddly empowering feeling standing at the desk just by myself waiting to sign in. I let out an internal sigh. I'd got myself entirely too entangled lately. However, this was definitely not the time to dwell on that. I handed over my membership card and entrance fee. The cute receptionist winked at me. "I'll make sure that everybody properly misbehaves themselves." "Oh, I fully intend to!" I said smilingly. My friends were waiting for me by the bar. A little chilled white wine and the demons of the previous days started to drift further and further away. My friend started to explain to me how much she wanted to learn some mistress-craft and would ask one of the experienced people to show her the ropes. For this mission I was to be her sub. Now, you should bear in mind here that whilst I had been dominated before, this had very much emerged out of the rough play with one person – no S&M equipment involved. Neither of us really knew what we were doing and whilst my face had been slapped hard and persistently enough to make me cry and eventually bruise, the rest of my body had stayed oddly untouched. This here however, surrounded by fetish-clad folk, sitting with a woman with a whip, this felt like the real thing. Hell, I had no idea, whether I even liked pain! But I was intrigued, excited – the potential for new discoveries as thrilling as ever. It wasn't long before a busty statuesque dominatrix joined us for a chat. "So are you all together, then?" We nodded, as she looked at my friend. "So you're going to be the mistress." Her eyes moved to me. "You'll be the slave." I nodded. "And what will you do?" she asked my friend's husband. "Oh, he does the fucking," my friend said dryly. "Ah, that'll be quite useful for the climax of the scene," the dominatrix said with that air of experienced expertise in her voice. In part, this conversation was feeling very surreal to me, but it also started to conjure images and sensations that were gradually building my arousal. She took us to a quiet lockable room and talked to us about pain scores and how to keep checking them with your slave, about slapping lightly at first to bring the blood to the surface of the skin, about the pleasures of sensory deprivation – being tied to the wall of a dark room, not knowing when the next move is coming or what that move will be. She extolled the virtues of caressing someone with a silk stocking, of withholding slaps when they are wanted, of making your slave beg for them and finally of the feel of cold (blunt!) sword steel against your neck. It was the latter that made me inhale sharply through my teeth. She looked at me quizzically. "No just carry on talking," I said. I knew I had that aroused smile playing on my lips, my eyes getting slightly unfocused. Hey, I'm not a detached person – when I'm aroused you are going to know about it. We had planned to drift back across into the dungeon area and watch for a little while, but you just can't keep my guy friend from fucking for very long. Before long he was standing behind me, grinding his beautiful, hard cock against me, its size barely disguised by the tight latex he was wearing. Do I find that greedy or offensive? God, no! It's glorious! And vastly compatible with me... So soon we returned to the quiet room: the mistress, the sex god and my own greedy self, hungry to pleasure, hungry to be pleasured. I always struggle to stay away from a beautiful cock, so it wasn't long until I dropped to my knees to slip my friend's impressive cock into my mouth. At the same time I was arching my back, holding up my arse as high as I could manage. As I sucked and worked him, his wife's whip started making contact with my arse, just lightly at first, patting, almost caressing, warming me up. This didn't feel so bad and the suspense of waiting for full hard contact added to my excitement. His cock had grown to its full size now, so wide it would not fit as deeply down my throat as I liked it. He grabbed my head by the hair and neck then, holding me down between his legs, pushing himself as deep as he would go, holding me, holding me longer. Swish! The first full blow fell on my arse, making me yelp with the shock. He started face fucking me, still holding me deep on his cock. I struggled to keep my arse in the air, arching more strongly yet, working hard to keep presenting my buttocks. Swish! Ah, that hurt! I moaned deeply into his pubes. I could feel nothing but his cock deep in my throat and my burning buttocks. His thighs were muffling the sound and I could see nothing as I was forced down on him. The patting resumed, fine slaps with the whip covering the most sensitive parts of my buttocks, always low down towards the tender tops of my thighs. Swish! I kept working his cock holding it deep, pulling up, using both my hands on it as well as my lips. I was concentrating so much, that the next move took me by surprise. I gasped. The cool leather end of the whip gently pressed itself against my outer lips. The feeling was exquisite. The whipping had increased the blood flow to my nether region enough to make me highly sensitive - and dripping wet. The mistress started to move the whip gently, using the leather edge to caress my lips, edging forward towards my now prominent clit. I arched harder, spreading my legs, willing her to continue - and she withdrew. "Sit on him," came my mistress's voice from behind. He had already grabbed and deftly unrolled a condom, leaving him ready for me to mount. My wet pussy slid easily onto his cock. He was beautifully wide and long but not a comfortable fit. As my full weight sank down on him I could practically feel him hit my cervix. I started moving up and down on his cock, every deep movement hitting me hard. That alone was enough to make me moan with pleasure-pain, Swish! The whip landed on my left buttock. Swish, swish, swish! Ouch, not the same spot!!! "How much pain?" my mistress asked. "Seven," I gasped. "Before - four... or ...five." I was still riding him hard, getting out of breath now, both from the exertion and the whipping. I ground my pelvis into him, pushing him ever more deeply into me. He was piercing my insides that way, and I could not help but press one hand against my abdomen just to make it bearable. "Smack." His hand landed on my face. Swish! I was alternately moaning and screaming now, as I rode the deadly cock and blows were landing on my arse. He pulled me down towards him, holding on to me tightly, and started thrusting into me from below. This left my buttocks even more exposed. Swish. The next blow landed firmly on my upper thighs. "Eight!!!!" "Suck him again!" ordered my mistress. Now dizzy, I rose off his cock and dropped to my knees again. He quickly pushed me deeply down onto his cock yet again. He face-fucked me deeply but firmly, as the blows kept raining down on my arse. I was dizzy and light-headed now, arse and throat, throat and arse all that existed. Intense sensations. I felt him harden in my throat and then he was coming, salty cum splattering against the back of my throat. I swallowed and gasped, coming up for air, my arse finally sinking down on my thighs. Enough - at least for a little while... Fetish Night Defloration Ch. 02 I returned to the dungeon area armed with a glass of wine, ready to do some watching. I'd not really ever seen a live BDSM scene and I was hoping for some visual titillation. A beautiful blonde girl had just been tied up to a bondage chair. She was slender, delicate, with the most perfect breasts, differentiated sharply from her defined ribcage. The chair spread her legs wide apart, her body covered only with delicate pale pink panties and some narrow wrist and ankle restraints. Exquisite. Her dom was equally appealing. He was perhaps in his late twenties, dark haired, just the right kind of toned, and wearing what can best be described as some kind of black leather breeches that left his crotch and buttocks fully exposed. His cock was already erect as he approached his girl with the kind of magic wand vibrator I'd only ever seen in S&M porn. They had my attention now. I moved a little closer. I came to kneel on a spanking bench, sipping on my cool white wine. My own buttocks were still burning. I smiled in anticipation and fixed my eyes on the scene in front of me. He approached her with the wand, running it gently up the inside of her thighs. I was imagining the soft flesh of her thighs rippling. She and I made brief eye contact. Despite my habitual shyness in social situations, I don't avoid eye contact in sexy settings these days - actually it is rather hot to meet someone's aroused glance firmly. It's part of the naughtiness, the provocation, to meet someone's eye and let them see my slut soul. I watched the dom exchange some whispered words with the cute receptionist I'd met earlier on. Before I knew it, he approached me. "I believe a lady's assistance is needed here. They are asking whether you may like to explore her body?" I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "You don't need to ask me that twice. Of course, I would!" I left behind my wine and approached the girl. It is a strange thing how touching someone intimately in a public space becomes the most natural thing in the world. I ran my fingers along the length of her outstretched bound arms. We introduced ourselves to each other briefly and she enquired about my partner. It gave me a little thrill to answer that I had left him at home for the night. The words "free agent" crossed my mind. I didn't even have to stay with my friends, I could drop myself into any scenario I was invited into or chose to create. I started caressing her beautiful breasts, at first gently, with my fingers, then more daringly, running my fingernails along one curve towards her nipple. At the same time, my left hand was massaging her pubic mound through those delicate panties (which I wished weren't there). I lowered my face towards her breast, nibbling lightly, covering her in the lightest, tiniest bites possible. Her man who had given us a little space returned to us and introduced himself briefly. He switched the wand vibrator on again and ran it along the breast that wasn't currently occupied by my exploring mouth. The vibrations were so intense that they crossed the distance between her breasts and left my lips vibrating in the most delicious way. I let go and laughed at him lightly, through a small intake of breath. "Oh, I can feel that." "You can?" "Mmm, sure I can," I said, as I refastened my mouth on her nipple. He brought the vibrator over to that breast, strengthening the vibration in my lips. A small noise of pleasure escaped my throat. The vibrator moved across from her breast to my neck and collarbone. They were probably the most intense vibrations I had ever felt. I lent back a little holding on to the bondage chair, my head leaning into his beautiful partner's arms. The vibrator probed the top of my breasts which were raised high by the constriction of the corset. It only took a small pull on the corset to expose my nipples. Now it was his turn to make an appreciative noise. He started unhooking the small fastenings of my corset. Having little trust in guys' finer motor functions I completed the work myself. The corset dropped to the floor, as he was running the vibrator over my breasts in earnest now. As I've said before, I'm a responsive girl. I like to make noises, not just to give you feedback, but because I can experience sensations quite strongly and I get much more turned on myself if I let that come out in my voice. So what can I say? I was enjoying the sensation! My eyes were closed, my body arching up towards him and I was drawing in breath deeply and releasing it the way only a seriously pleasured woman would. He was liking that. I've never yet met a man who hasn't. More importantly, I was liking it - arousal was beginning its delightful work of making me loose and soft and open. "I think we are going to have to tie you up and play with you. Would you like that?" I opened my eyes. "Yes! Yes, of course I would." "Good." Of course I hadn't planned for things to go this way or expected it, but God what an opportunity! I was watching with a strange sense of happy calm, feeling completely and surprisingly at ease, as he untied his partner and fastened her wrist cuffs on me. I was wearing nothing but my boots, my collar and my G-string now. He led me across the room to an upright gate-shaped frame and proceeded to fasten the cuffs to its metal rings just below chest height, using some fairly industrial looking carabiners. "I think that's going to have to come off," he said pulling on my G-string. I stepped out of it and he gently spread my legs apart and bent me over at the hip. What a beautiful, arousing move, just gently bending me over like that, positioning me just right for him. I'd not ever actually thought of myself as an exhibitionist, but I was loving being displayed like that. I knew there were at least around 20 people watching, but I was facing away from them, unable to see them and frankly it just added to the thrill. I held on to the frame in a way that would accentuate my arms and shoulders and aimed to arch my back into the most aesthetic position, knowing that my tattoo would look just perfect. I'm quite aware that my body is not conventionally attractive, but if you are going to do these things, you may as well do them with attitude. I must apologize to you my darling reader, because from here things start to get a little hazy. That is actually quite unusual for me and perhaps a sign of how deeply I let go in the session that was to follow. But I shall do my best to document what I thought was happening as I was being assaulted by the most delightful onslaught of sensations. Do bear in mind however that my back was turned to my tormentors at all times and I could not actually see who was working me at any one point. The first sensation that I recall was a caressing sensation running down my back and across my buttocks. Soft, delightful, most likely coming from one of those many fingered whips made of soft suede leather. I moaned softly and arched my back even further to raise my behind towards the sensation. Then another, distinct feeling, more familiar, probably my mistress friend's crop with it's small leather paddle, lightly patting the tops of my thighs. I was getting the shape of this now, they were warming me up again, getting my blood to circulate just beneath my skin. And they were working as a team on me. But I had little time to think about that, as the sensations were becoming a little more intense. With a soft swish, the whip landed lightly on my behind, as the crop hit the underswell of my right buttock. "Ah!" More a moan than a sound of discomfort. Swish and smack - the other side. The pain was short and sharp, not strong yet, and after each moment of contact a wave of tingling sensations spread across my skin. Swish and smack, smack and swish. I was holding on tightly to the frame. Nobody was asking me about pain scores now. I'm not sure I could have put a number to it, but it was perfect. Building up ever so gradually. I could feel my pussy throbbing, for the first time in all my experiences actually from the sensation of pain, not just from the psychological thrill. Swish, the top of my buttocks and smack, the edge. And smack, and smack and smack! "Au!" I yelped. Much like my friend to keep hitting the same spot! My buttocks pulling away now, not towards the sensation. Then, suddenly, intense vibration against my crotch. I could hear myself moaning and whimpering loudly, as from a distance, but my whole being was taken up with the sensations in my crotch. Impossible to describe - like cuming but not cuming, really not like any other feeling I'd ever experienced. Even my body seemed unsure whether to grind into it or try to escape from it. But there was no escape to be had, the pressure against my clit and pussy was firm, so all I could do was to hold on for dear life and ride it out. I was in it, I was it, pure pleasure. Then it stopped. The hands that had bent me forward straightened me up again for a moment. "I just want to save your back. How are you doing?" I turned my head as much as I could to look at him. "I'm good, I'm good, I'm good," I gasped, still mostly out of breath. "I'm going to up the intensity a bit now, but I think you can take it." I nodded vigorously. "Yes, please!" He gently bent me forward again. I adjusted my legs so they were well spread once more. I could feel the incredible wetness between my legs. The whip and the crop resumed their work, lightly again at first. Swish and smack, smack and swish. My buttocks were already radiating heat. The tingling wasn't so much going in waves now, as being more of a constant radiance. They were working me more firmly now and my moans took on a more pained tinge, the pain still good though, still deeply pleasurable. Then there were hands stroking my hair. I lifted my head slightly to come face to face with my male friend's erect cock. I opened my mouth to take him in, blows still raining down on my buttocks. He is so large as to require a wide open mouth and much concentration, both of which were difficult to achieve, but being stretched open by him added to the intensity of the sensations. Smack, smack, smack! Sharply now. I moaned into his cock. Suddenly the vibrations hit me again. I heard the buzzing, the same intensity as last time. Then the noise turned a degree more high pitched and so did the vibrations. I don't know what I was doing, whether I was moaning or screaming or sucking cock. Also the blows on my arse didn't cease this time. My brain went into non-computing sensation-blasted silence. Cuming, cuming, cuming, but not cuming. No orgasmic ending, just flying at the mercy of the person who held me at that point. And then it stopped. I was straightened up once more. I was feeling incredibly light-headed, almost completely high. He was standing in front of me now. My eyelids were fluttering and it took a big effort to focus and meet his eyes, but I did. "You were enjoying every minute of that!" he said, sounding almost surprised. "Yes, I did." I couldn't resist bending over briefly once more, to give him at least a few sucks on his gloriously hard cock. He undid the carabiners, but I stayed in position, still holding on to the frame. Somebody new was standing behind me now and starting speaking to me softly and pleasurably. I leant into him and turned my head a little to see a gorgeous bald guy in a very sexy leather kilt. "My friend and I couldn't help but come over to see who was enjoying themselves quite so much. She is wondering whether she can lick you pussy." Only then did I notice a petite, naked dark haired girl squatting by my side. "Mmmm, of course." I kept leaning into him as she started licking me, my soaking pussy loving the stimulation. My beautiful dom for the night still in front of me, his hands (at least I think his hands, but I'm not sure about anything at this stage) kneading my breasts. Suddenly, a shocking feeling on my radiant buttocks. Ice cubes!! Ice cubes, melting their way down my hot arse. My head swimming, still moaning, still holding on. Then my friend and his beautiful cock were back, behind me this time. He grabbed my hips and penetrated me deeply. But I was so stretched out for him now, made wide open by my arousal, or maybe it's just the endorphins keeping the pain from his deep thrusting at bay. I knew this was it now, the grand finale. He was fucking me hard, as I held on to the frame for dear life. I felt somebody's hand against one of mine and grasped it and held on. And he was fucking me and fucking me, as I was screaming the place down in glorious happiness. And then we were done - we really WERE done. My mistress friend helped to straighten me back up and led me to an arm chair. And believe me, I needed leading. My legs were shaking, my eyes unfocused and I was high as a kite. I did little more for the next half hour than to sit in that chair, clutching a glass of wine and smiling my famous Cheshire cat smile, interrupted only by occasional outbursts of: "I love you guys!", "You're amazing!" "So nice to meet you!"