A Story of You #4 His

Contest entry number four by Lola Batling...

4. His

This is the story of my first time with a Dom and a stranger.  It is the story of my first non-parental spanking. It also marks my second time in a carʻs back seat for sexual purposes. Funny how that worked out, Iʻm just glad Iʻm adventurous.

I thought Topping while in a wheelchair was difficult, but I must be a masochist. Bottoming is harder, hands down.  While itʻs not more difficult in terms of capability or ability, there are a fair number of difficulties.

The finding partners is always the hardest part. Finding people who can accept the “my bitch comes with wheels” is quite difficult. Adding that I’m a painslut makes it even weirder. People have a hard time hurting me. Even though I’m a big girl and I ask for it. I know what I can handle, and I will use my safe word.

You know what they say, that when you stop looking for something, you find it? It’s true. In fact, itʻs the only thing I believe in. I just have to remind myself of this a lot.

It was a cold night when I met him. I was with friends outside of Stilettos, a gay and lesbian bar in Detroit. He caught my eye. He was older and debonair, the type of guy I masturbate to. I love older men, but I had never really been with one. I was staring at him. He was staring right back.

My friends had to drag me inside. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go in. I simply wasn’t about to lose a test of wills. Once inside, I consoled myself with something alcoholic that tasted vaguely of blackberry and turned my attention to the stage.

“Hello.” A velvety voice whispered in my ear. Startled, I jumped and looked up. It was him.

“Hello.” I said, marveling at how close he was, yet he was not touching my chair. He put his hands on my shoulders. My breath caught, my heart pounded, he was touching me.

“My name is X, I’m interested in getting to know you. Come outside with me while I smoke,” he said before walking away.  It was not a request, it was an order.

Before I could think, I was up and away from my party. I quickly caught up with up him. He held the door open for me. My nipples were hard and I couldnʻt tell if it was the cold or the excitement.

“Let me guess, early twenties, rebellious and a Daddyʻs girl,” he said from behind me.

“Hardly a Daddyʻs girl,” I said, giggling nervously.

“No...” I could hear the smooth suck on his cigarette. “I can fix that.” He spoke confidently, reaching down and tweaking a nipple. I was mortified, I was embarrassed, I was aroused.

I was his.

There are those moments when you can just feel your whole life change. This was mine. The moment I knew I could be submissive. As the realization set in, he turned and the next thing I knew, he was walking off, during my moment of epiphany! How dare he! I chased after him.

He stopped in front of a really nice, sleek black car.

“Ever done it in a BMW… I didnʻt quite catch your name?” He said. He was smirking.

“No, and my name is O.” I said. Oh shit, I used my real name. Oh fuck, I wanted him bad.

“Well, O . Let me enlighten you.” He said undoing my seatbelt with one hand and opening the BMWʻs back door. He tossed aside his cigarette stepping on it once, crushing the glowing ember beneath his heel.

He lifted me as if I weighed nothing and set me in the back seat. I lay there my heart beating while he moved int the car with me shutting the door behind him. I watched him wide eyed.

He immediately exposed my nipples, looking me over.  Caressing the curve of my hip.  “I want to hurt you, O.” He stated it the way most would say, “I like green.” He let his hand trail down the front of my thighs.

I whimpered.

He moved me so that I was on my belly pressed against the leather. He lifted my skirt. As usual, I wasnʻt wearing any  panties. He brought his hand down on my bare ass. Sound of flesh on flesh filled the car. On and on he went until he finally got me to cry out.

It hurt a lot but I was taught never to cry. It felt different from the times my step-dad spanked me. My ass hurt the same, but the electricity was there and my pussy was wet and aching. He knew this, surely he had to. His fingers would dip into every time heʻd stop to rub my ass.

I raised my ass under his hand as he rubbed my ass smearing my wetness across my backside. He laughed and continued his assault on my ass. I was moaning and gasping, and then:

“Stop please.” I said, not my standard safe-word but, he stopped sitting back on his heels.

“70. You must have been an unruly child.” He said chuckling.

“Yeah.” I said gasping. His finger slid into me stopping me from talking. He pushed inside my tight pussy. I was surprised by my own wetness. He slid back and forth adding a second finger and third until my pussy was stuffed full and convulsing around him.

Before I knew it, I was orgasming at the speed of sound. The whole thing was sharp and brief. Even now I think about it, what I could have done differently if I had the toys on hand and the knowledge to use them.

Just as the thought sparked through my mind, my body recoiled, trying to place a definite end to the encounter. Abrupt as it was, the next thing that happened was him putting in me back in my chair and handing me his card.

“Call me.” He said. I quickly dashed back into the bar. My friends hadnʻt even noticed I was gone.

Of course I called.

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