1 comments/ 16689 views/ 1 favorites Your First Time Ch. 01 By: holy_horny You arrive at the bar at 9 PM, as instructed. The joint is dismal, with only a few cars parked out front. This both relieves and disappoints you somehow. Upon entering, you find he has already arrived, sitting in an intimate booth near the back. He spots you immediately, rising from his seat, but does not come over to greet you. You find this odd, but smile and try to ignore it. You strut over to him, flipping your hair back over your shoulders, attempting to exude as much confidence as you possibly can. "Hel-" you begin to say, but before you can even make out half the word, he cuts you off. "Sit." His eyes tell you not to disobey. You begin to sit across from him, your back facing the patrons seated at the bar. You knew what you were there for, but you assumed the evening would begin with at least a little awkward small talk or something. "No, no. Right here." He motions to the side he was just sitting in, and you do as you're told, timidly shuffling into the booth. He follows, careful not to brush against you as he sits. "You look...nice," he says, almost disdainfully, as his eyes scan your ensemble. You wish you would have worn something else, something sexier. You almost subconsciously cross your legs underneath your knee-length, loose, almost child-like skirt. "Thank you," you choke out. "So, I'm aware that this is the first time you've ever done anything like this," he continues. You nod uneasily. "But you understand the process, I'm sure. You will do anything and everything I tell you to, no questions. No excuses." You nod again, slower this time. "You do, however, always hold the right to say no. I cannot take that away from you. Just know that if you decide to take that avenue, I will have to put an end to the evening. I'm not here for small talk." "I understand," you say, glad to know that it's never too late to back out. "But you know," he says, his eyes almost devilish above his glass, "from what you've said, I don't think you'll be wanting to leave." You shift uncomfortably in your seat, a mixture of excitement and fear brewing within you, trying to rack your brain for all of the bits of information you shared with this man online over the past few weeks. "So, what can I get you to drink?" You snap out of the trance you were lodged in as his words bring you back to the present. "Um...Vodka cranberry is fine." You force an awkward smile. "Vodka cranberry it is. But first..." he digs into his jacket pocket, resurfacing with a small plug. Your heart skips a beat when you see it. He leans in close, placing the plug in your hand and whispering, "This had better be in your ass by the time I return, and I do not want you leaving this booth. I will be watching." With that, he gets up and walks over to the bar. You're left staring blankly after him, dumbstruck. It takes you a minute or two to realize the reality of the situation you've put yourself in. At this point, he has already reached the bar, and was chatting to another man as he awaited the bartender's attention, eyes never leaving your booth. He subtly taps his wrist, hurrying you along and snapping you out of your bewildered state. You glance around the bar: no eyes on you. You hesitantly lower your hands under the table, pulling up your skirt. Sliding down in your seat just enough to give yourself access, you pull aside the string of your thong. Spreading your legs to provide an easier target, you take the butt plug and ease it into your hole, wincing. As you slide it in, you see his eyes locked on your body, a sneer playing on his lips. You look away. As you drop your thong back between your ass cheeks, the pressure the plug forces on your asshole deepens just a bit. That pressure is amplified even more as you slide back up into a normal sitting position, however, and you can't help but grimace at the discomfort. "Good girl." He has returned, drinks in hand, a proud smile across his face. You feel your cheeks warm a bit at the words of appraisal, and you look away. "No, no. I'm proud. That must not have been easy for your very first act of exhibitionism. But you must know, it only gets harder from here." The kind words make you smile, but the realization that the evening has only just begun elicits a sickening pit in the bottom of your stomach. - Author's Note: I was quite interested in trying my hand at this type of writing. Just a short preview. Will be adding more soon. Your First Time Ch. 02 "So, my little pet. How do you feel?" His eyes bore into you, but you are unsure of whether or not to exchange the look. "That's not a rhetorical question." His voice is sharp. You look up at him. "I feel okay." It's half true. Honestly, you feel nervous, anxious, slightly scared. But the constant pressure in your asshole somehow supplements the ill feelings, producing a sense of excitement and pleasure within you. "Just okay? That won't do." He brings his glass to his lips, slowly sipping. As he does so, his hand finds its way to your thigh. Your senses explode. You never thought even the slightest touch could excite you so. He drags his fingertips over your skirt, finding the hem. He lifts it ever so slowly, the anticipation driving you wild. You glance around the bar. All seems normal, no prying eyes directed your way. "No, no," he continues. "That won't do at all." He sets his glass down, slowly tracing his finger along the rim. Your eyes follow the motion. With his other hand, he slides your skirt up so far that your panties are exposed. You immediately regret the tiny G-string. Without another word, his fingers find their way to the front of your panties, just barely grazing across them. Your clit throbs. You can feel yourself moistening further, and assume your panties must be soaked. You let out a low moan as his tease continues to drive you crazy. He simply laughs. Then, far too abruptly, he removes his hand from your body. Your eyes shoot up at him in disappointment. "Take them off." His tone is serious. You're at a loss for words, even for thoughts. Your pussy aches with hunger. You do as he says. Trying not to draw any attention, you ever so slightly lift yourself off the seat and slide your thong down your legs, glancing around the bar as you do so. Lifting your feet out of them, you ball them up in your hand and bring them to your lap. They're drenched. "Good girl." Again, his words of praise elicit some sort of excitement in you, almost causing the longing you're feeling to grow stronger. You await your next task, firmly clutching the panties in your fist. "Now put them in your mouth." "In my mouth?" you immediately question, regretting it as soon as the words leave your lips. His face is twisted. He offers a disturbing smile before gently bringing his hand to the back of your head, caressing your hair. You start to smile, thinking perhaps he was just joking. However, your smile disappears as he suddenly grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls, forcing you to jerk sideways, closer to him. "You do not speak unless I tell you to, bitch. And you absolutely do not question me. Ever." His words come in a sharp, menacing whisper. "Now put them. In. Your mouth." You feel tears brimming from the pain on the back of your head, but you comply. You quickly shove the panties, soaked with your own juices, into your mouth. Biting down hard, you fight to stop the tears from forming. He releases your hair and you sit back up, composing yourself. The taste consumes your mouth. It isn't as bad as you thought it would be, but it also isn't exactly something you prefer. "Don't ever make me repeat myself again," he says much more calmly, giving you a pat on the head. As you sit there, mouth and ass full, you consider running, pulling the plug (no pun intended) on the whole thing; perhaps you could find satisfaction another way. You timidly glance up at him, and find him smiling down at you eerily. "What's the matter? Is my little pet not having fun anymore? We've barely just gotten here." You consider his question. Sure, you're sitting in a bar full of people, skirt hiked up to your stomach, pussy exposed, mouth stuffed full of your own soaking panties and a plug shoved up your ass; but is all of that really a bad thing? Your pussy is dripping wet. There are myriad butterflies of excitement in your stomach. And you can't wait to see how this near stranger degrades you next. So why would you run? You smile at him. You attempt to exude some shred of sexiness, but he only laughs. "So the little slut is enjoying herself. That's what I like to hear." You feel your cheeks redden. "Why don't you go order us another round?" He throws some cash on the table. You start to reach up to your mouth to remove the panties, but he stops you. "What do you think you're doing? Those stay in." You hesitate. You know that everyone up there will know. And their reaction terrifies and excites you simultaneously. You grab the money and stand up, not even bothering to look back at him. You know his eyes are glued to you. As you stand, you can feel the plug in your ass start to slide out slowly, and you shift uncomfortably, trying to keep it in. You walk up to the bar and find an empty stool, throwing yourself down on it in an attempt to shove the plug back up your ass. It works well. There are only a few people seated on either side of you; all men, all older, all chatting and drinking. A few glance over and smile at you as you wait, but none say anything. You try to return their smiles. "What can I get you, sweetie?" The bartender smiles at you sweetly: a woman, a little older than you. You tremble. Moment of truth. "Can I get a vodka cranberry and a scotch?" The words tumble out of your mouth before you can think twice about the situation. They are distorted, muffled. You know the bartender can tell there is something in your mouth, but her puzzled expression tells you she doesn't quite understand what. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. Come again?" A few of the others take notice of her confusion. They begin to stare at you, inquisitive. You take a deep breath through your nose. "Vodka cranberry and a scotch." You open your mouth wider this time, enunciating more clearly. However, as your tongue moves to form the words, part of your G-string falls out of your mouth. You slurp it back in as quickly as possible, blushing profusely. "Um...Sure," the bartender says, slowly grabbing glasses. She shakes her head, although you're not quite sure why. "Say, whatcha got there, sugar?" One of the men has sidled over to the seat next to you. You respond by shaking your head, keeping your lips shut tight. "Don't be shy. Show us." He places a finger on one side of your chin, gently turning your head towards him and the others seated down the bar. You glance back towards your booth, where he is seated comfortably, watching you with gleaming eyes. Your own eyes beg for assistance, for some kind of savior from the prying hands of this other man, but he offers you none. "Come on, now. Open up," the older man prods, slapping your face playfully. He is noticeably quite drunk, and this only frightens you more. You try to back away, but there is another man directly behind you. "I promise we won't bite." His tone is too suggestive: you feel sick. You feel trapped. And although fear is running through you, so is something else: excitement. Lust. Energy. Desire. You have no idea what will happen when you open your mouth and show these men the dirty secret inside. But you cannot wait to find out. Your First Time Ch. 03 "I think that's enough for one night." You spin around to see your 'prince charming' has finally gotten up from your booth to come and take you away. Just when you were starting to enjoy yourself, too. "Hey, buddy," the man standing directly behind you says, pointing a finger at his chest. "Finders, keepers." "Why don't we leave it up to the lady?" he responds, gently removing the man's finger. "Lydia?" It was the first time he had addressed you by your name all evening. For some reason, it sent a shiver down your body, leaving you tingling. You were suddenly very aware of the plug in your ass and its effects on your dripping pussy. Your response was immediate and unconscious: no competition. It was as if you knew you belonged to him. You moved to stand next to him, eliciting a chorus of disappointed sounds and comments from the barmen. He smiled. "Goodnight, gentlemen." And with that, he led you out of the bar. Once outside, he turned quickly on his heel, delivering a quick slap across your face. You stumbled back a bit, not so much from the pain, but from the surprise of the blow. You start to ask what on earth that was for when you remember his rule about not speaking unless prompted. Instead, you look up at him inquisitively, holding your cheek. He smiles devilishly. "Just need to remind you who you belong to. I'm sure those men in there would have thoroughly enjoyed you. However, you are not theirs to enjoy without my expressed permission. If and when you will fuck other men is entirely up to me. Do you understand, Lydia?" The sound of your name all but erases everything he just said to you from memory, and you nod. You feel the familiar tingle, coupled with the pressure from the plug. You're in a daze. "Good girl. Now, get down on your knees." You comply without a second thought, the gravel from the parking lot grinding into your skin. Not ten feet from the door of the bar, you hope no one exits it any time soon. Or drives by, for that matter. You consider what it would be like to have a random stranger watch you submit, on your knees, to this man. Although your brain is telling you it would be horrifying, your dripping pussy says otherwise. You're pulled out of your fantasy by the sound of a zipper, and you realize what's about to happen. As he pulls out his flaccid cock, maybe five or six inches you think, surprised at its length while soft, you prepare yourself. You're no stranger to sucking men off, although you've never done it outside of the comfort of a home. The excitement of getting caught only makes you more eager to perform, and you find yourself salivating at the thought of his cock between your lips. Additionally, you find yourself wanting to prove yourself to him, to show him that you can turn him on, too. "I'm sure you know what to do with this, slut." His words both hurt and excite you simultaneously, and you keenly pull his cock to your mouth. Suddenly, you realize the panties are still in there. You had grown so accustomed to the feel and taste, you had forgotten. You start to spit them out when he delivers another slap across your face, with his hardening cock this time. "Did I tell you to take those out?" You look at the ground sheepishly. "Give them to me." You remove the soaking panties, rolled into a ball, from your mouth and place them in his outstretched hand. "Stand." You comply, eyes still on the gravel below. He reaches down to the hem of your skirt and pulls it all the way up, tucking it into the top of your blouse. Your cheeks grow warm at this humiliation, realizing anyone walking by or leaving the bar has a full view of your naked ass. He shakes the panties out of the ball they were in and moves his hand to your pussy. In one fell swoop, he lodges his finger into you, bringing the panties with it. He uses two more fingers to shove them the rest of the way in, making sure they're deep enough to stay. You feel strange with the fabric stuck inside of you; it's almost pleasurable, feeling the cotton move slightly as you fidget your legs. Without warning, he shoves you back down to your knees and forces your face onto his cock, now a fully erect eight or nine inches. He slams his member to the back of your throat, forcing you to gag. Holding you there, he says, "This is what happens when sluts disobey. Those panties better stay in this time, bitch." You don't make a move or a sound. You just kneel there, forehead pressed against his shirt, ass and pussy on display, mouth full of cock. He grabs two fistfuls of your hair, pushing you as far as possible against his body, seemingly not caring that you're quickly losing oxygen. After what seems like an eternity, he pulls you off and away from him, suspending you a few inches from the tip of his member. You gasp for air, but are pulled back onto his cock far too quickly. He continues this motion a few more times, pressing you into him for ten seconds or so each time. You try to grow accustomed to breathing through your nose while trying not to gag, but have difficulty. You begin to cough around his cock, gasping for air. His response is not what you had hoped. "Choke on it, pet. You'll have to get used to it sooner or later." His tone is casual, almost as if he's about to laugh. He then pulls you off of him, allowing you a second to catch your breath. The moment ends too soon as he changes his game: he's now pulling you back and forth faster and faster on his cock, basically fucking your face. In a strange way, you almost prefer this, as you know it will be over soon. You can sense his impending orgasm. "I swear to God, if you waste one drop of this..." He doesn't bother finishing the sentence, and instead finishes in your mouth. The hot cum nails the back of your throat and you swallow it down as quickly as possible. You've never minded the taste of a man's ejaculation. Just then, you hear laughter and cat calls behind you. A pit forms in your stomach as you realize a few men have exited the bar. With his hands still wrapped in your hair, holding you on his emptying cock, you cannot move, even to cover yourself. You try to look up at him, but the angle is too difficult to adjust. What seems like hours is only mere seconds that he keeps you on display like this, showing off his prize to these onlookers. Finally, he releases you. "Well done, pet," he praises, tucking away his shrinking cock. You silently wish he would indicate you could cover up as well. Instead, he leaves you on your knees, ass still exposed. You hear applause behind you, but don't turn around, knowing it will only humiliate you more. He, on the other hand, pretends to bow for the onlookers. Pulling you up from the ground, your knees grateful for the release, he spins you around to face the four men that have gathered outside for a smoke. Your eyes are glued to the ground as your cheeks redden and your pussy moistens. "Looking good, little lady!" "You're a lucky man there, pal." "What service!" The men call out a string of sarcastic praises. "Alright gentlemen," he says, snaking his arm around your waist, still refusing to let down your skirt, "I know she puts on a good show. However, it's time for us to depart. Have a good evening." And with that, he leads you to his car, opening the door. You climb in. As he gets in the car himself, he hesitates to put the key in. Looking at you, he says, "Alright, Lydia. Now you've had a taste, literally, of what entering into any kind of relationship with me would be like. I'm allowing you one final out. If you're at all uninterested, please, just get out now. Because once I start this car, there's no turning back. You will belong to me, mind, body and soul. You need to understand that." You remain silent, pondering his words. Mind. Body. Soul. That seems like a lot to give one person. But as you think, you relay the past evening's events in your head. You've never gotten so incredibly turned on just by someone's words before. It was as if he had cast a spell over you, one you weren't sure could even be broken if you wanted it to. You consider the fact that you did tell him you were interested in being in a submissive relationship, with a man who didn't mind showing you off now and again, as you so eloquently put it through your online messages. Try anything once, right? And with that resolution came clarity: you were in it for the long haul. There was no way you could pass up an opportunity like this. "I'm staying," you declare, looking at him square in the eye. He smiles that devilish smile, obviously pleased. "Wonderful..." And his tone makes you hope to God you didn't just make the biggest mistake of your life.