Ali’s Story

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It’s my epic summer. I crave the heat. Heat seems to stir up my happiness genes. I had no idea how my organized, careful world would come to such an abrupt and decisive end. You can direct and plan your life in a fashion that corresponds with your economic means and social demands or you can try to self-actualize. I had gone the safe route with occasional side trips to my secret life. I say chuck it all, why not live in the brief time you have. Revel in your oneness. Narcissism in small bites might not be a bad thing.

Why all the detail? I wanted to make sure you understood I wasn’t bored and looking for some gratuitous action. I had a lot of cool things to hold my attention. Why I encouraged a visit to a part of my life I always thought of as my secret world is still something I’m pondering along with my attachment to my friend Ali.

So I started tooling around on the Internet highway on a freeway dedicated to those of the BDSM persuasion. I would chat and message interesting women who styled themselves as Submissive. I had always been comfortable as the Dominant so the D in the D/S pair. Lots of fun, great on-line conversation. Even some texting and a few phone calls. I grew more creative and suggested to a few profiled babes I had a specific scenario in mind and to please message me if interested. I could imagine the hilarity as some of the more sophisticated recipients thought “Fucking Nerd”. Ultimately I met some approval and had to deliver. I offer for the readers entertainment and sympathy (please), Instructions.


You are instructed to answer your door wearing your shortest skirt and no under pants. You can choose either a pushup bra or Bustier. You need to find the best way to provide good access to your erect nipples. High heels will be in order and a nice bright red lipstick. Your fragrance should suggest you need serious examination.

Once inside I will continue with your assessment. I need to determine what type of spanking suits you. Your level of grooming will need attention. You may have hair in places that needs to be removed or trimmed.

I will ask you to give me your tongue. After your tongue is placed in my mouth I will begin inspecting your nipples with my fingers. At first I will use gentle caressing pressure to make them stand up. When your nipples are sufficiently hard I will begin to squeeze them and as long as you murmur enjoyment and pleasure your nipples will receive my attention. Careful breast squeezing will further arouse your interest. Perhaps some careful sucking, licking, and nibbling will be well received. Your respectful encouragement is expected.

You will now have a collar fitted and a short lead attached. Naturally you will be led around to get a sense of how you walk in heels, how your hips and ass thrust up as you slowly move about.

Your pheromones will now be tasted and their fragrance examined. You will be directed to wet two of your fingers where you should now be wet and aroused. Offering yourself and asking if more is needed will go a long way to establishing further attention.

You will be directed to spread your legs so you can be inspected. A little hair for decorative purposes is ok but too much around your labia will have to go. Your hair will be trimmed with perhaps a stylish V created and the rest shaved off.

You have begun your journey and it’s time for you to dress for the adventure. Do you have stockings and a sexy garter belt? Well put them on. I expect skimpy and sheer panties. Your breasts should be supported and offered. Makeup and fragrance needs to show how you want to be used and aroused.

Spanking is so critical to your excitement. You love to be spanked but how is the question? There are three basic spanking types; hand, paddle, and cane. Which one will make you lose control and submit must be discovered.

Pulling on your lead you will be positioned on your knees. Crossed slender wrists will be bound behind your back. You will be instructed to position yourself on my lap. I want to make sure you are comfortable and available. I can detect your fragrance and increased breathing. You know you want to be taken.

Instructions follow. I will grasp your hair and pull it back as you are vigorously spanked. Naturally you will be aroused by the hair pulling and spanking. You will have to count out the spanks and plead for harder or less so. 10 spanks will decide how you like your this treatment.

Now things are getting serious. After the hand spanking you will resume your kneeling position. Have you ever worn a ball gag? The sexist aspect is the drool and you need to accept that you will drool when you’re gaged.

You will be instructed to open you moth and the ball gag will be inserted. Tying the ball gag in place behind your hair will set the scene. A paddle will be applied to your ass. You can ask for harder by nodding yes, begging for less by shaking no. You can continue with the way it is by just remaining still. You will be gaged and unable to speak but you can express you delight by groans, moans, squeals, and squeaks.

Perhaps hand trabzon escort spanking and paddling is enough to satisfy your desire for ass pain but in that unique case you may want to be caned.

If caning is your desire other arrangements will be necessary. You will have your bonds released and be led over to a short table. Your wrists will be tied to sides of the table. Next, your legs will be spread and tied to the legs of the table. You are now bent over the table and ready to receive the cane. Again you can control the severity but you must understand that you won’t escape without marks.

Bent over the table, panting and waiting. I will toy your ass with the cane to let you get a feeling for what is to come. I will have to express my disappointment in having to abuse you in this fashion. The caning will start and the count will be given. You can controls the intensity but you will receive 5 strokes.

Which do you like the best? Does the hair pulling make you wet and weak? Questions that are answered during the spanking assessment determine where things will go next.

I would have paid good money for a WEB cam or to be a fly on the wall to watch and listen to the reactions. Now bear in mind I didn’t post this on OK Cupid but often thought that might be fun. I sent this to ladies in the life who could at least understand and appreciate. On the whole when I received reactions they ranged from approval to contemptuous dismissal. Dangerous overblown ego resulted from the positive responses. I became selective and started wanting to edit the comments that I received. I thought to send back the edited comments with instruction on how to approach me correctly. Fortunately I realized that self aggrandization is the path to a big fall besides I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.

The profiles on the Internet “Fet” (Fetish) site have stylized pictures and some sort of interesting name. I took a shine to NaturalOne and launched my fetish initiative. It took a couple of days before I received a short but thoughtful note from NaturalOne. What kind of rope did I envision and what would she have to do if her wardrobe didn’t include a pushup bra? BDSM banter, kinky terminology, fetish lexicon. We tested one another with the secret handshake of the sexually liberated. NaturalOne turned out to be a wholesome lady by the name of Ali. Ali, Ali, there was something about that name that fascinated me. Ali was a mother with two young children and, as she repeatedly said, a clueless boring spouse. I had to promise solid confidentiality and respect her position at all times. Little did I know? Had my Crystal Ball not been in the shop I would have taken a short vacation, chucked it all. But I didn’t. Many stories have a satisfying arc, a happy ending. Other more sordid accounts are woven with interesting tragedies and a startlingly sad ending. My tale features both which makes it all the more compelling to tell and hopefully for you to explore and process. You will root for Ali and Terry even at the end. At your peril my friend, at your peril.

I met Ali in the fall. Well it really was more like a collision. The intersections of our lives and hearts was the most breathtaking event I’ve ever experienced. We both pulled up to the BDSM four way stop. Neither of us could stop. We crashed into one another on the internet. An alternate life style WEB home for lonely people with a proud desire to confirm their life styles. I once had a relative tell me I needed therapy after broaching the concept of vanillaness.

Ali and I were separated by 80 miles so naturally we gravitated to an e-mail life.

As our email became more complex and nuanced we realized we needed more intimate contact. Ali had a challenging job as a special math and science teacher so her time was not always hers. We fell into two calls, one as her day began and another in the evening when she walked her dog.

Obsession wouldn’t come close to describing my feelings about these calls. What did we discuss? In the end we left nothing on the table. My connection to Ali was welded by the frank, honest, and open discussions. We both had come together to explore our Dominant – Submissive roles, to define our desires, to stake out positions. Time and time again we detoured into romantic, life mating possibilities. I could see myself with this women. I could see a life together. Ali’s submissive desires would just be the seasoning in our life changing stew.

Nothing survives the light of day. Especially my half formed thoughts and confusions. Nothing will be the same after our final ultimately satisfying but tragic meeting. I asked for it. I planned and plotted. Ali aided and abetted me and drove things along with curiosity and determination. Clearly I was the captain of our adventure and really the more responsible of the two of us for the way things turned out.

We had plans for a special life affirming first meeting but somehow I couldn’t fully accept the new reality. I had actually brow beat Ali to send me a photo. Major infraction in the FetLife community. I had my reasons. tunceli escort Ali complied. My realization of Ali’s purity, her beauty drove me to the depths of intense self-recrimination. How could I doubt my angel? We had poured our souls out to each other and I had demanded a JPEG tribute. Perhaps women are right about male base insensitivity. Not perhaps, we are or at least I am. Worst of all.

Ali and I had planned to meet Friday at a quaint riverside restaurant that she had selected for intimate seating. Sounded great to me. Unfortunately I could not contain myself. I suggested we meet Monday just for a quick chat and a chemistry check. Ali agreed and we planned a lunch time meeting. My motives were jumbled but I think driven by insecurity more than anything else.

Not content with restaurant plans I arranged to meet Ali in a park on Monday. We were getting together for drinks on Friday but a quick get together on Monday seemed right for me. Ali would have arranged a Bruce Springsteen concert if I asked. For perspective, 160 mile round trip for an hour visit. Hilarity abounds. Ali points out that this spot where we’re meeting is the rendezvous for the local micro criminals who meet to trade in urine for drug tests. Safe pee, what a concept. I saw Ali appear on the opposite side of the park. I raced over, parked and jumped out of my car. Greeting Ali for the first time stunned me to my core. All I could do was extend my hand for an introductory hand shake. Ali grasped my hand and I felt the ocean move under me. Our first full embrace seemed to last forever as Ali’s softness flowed against me. I had intense feelings of longing, of desire, of downright fear and confusion. I hadn’t felt any human emotions like these for many years and now I wondered if I was being realistic about it all. I released Ali and saw in her smile and the way she held onto my arm that she had undergone a similar realization. I guess this is the moment that people talk about. The elusive “Love at First Sight” moment.

We retreated to my car and after some gentle hand stroking we tried a hesitant kiss. Soft, sure pleading. I knew I had found a very special person. We had spent so much time in one another’s psyches that physical contact was both strange and very satisfying. I decided I was falling in love. Falling in love with an idea, with a fragment born online. Alternately couldn’t believe my good luck and knew I should get the hell out of there.

We discussed our latest BDSM conversations. I suggested I could tie her hands behind her back to see if she liked my technique. Ali was both amused and aroused so she readily complied sitting forward with her hands behind her waiting for the rope.

Ali and I fooled around and laughed. So pure, so together. We parted and I aimed my curiously impoverished-self northward. I should have been satisfied and let it go at that. Greedy bastard.

Friday arrived and I settled into the long drive south. I arrived early and parked in a nearby riverside parking lot. I decided to conduct a couple of business calls. The absurdity of mixing business with pleasure never felt so real to me now.

Off the river park and into town. Ali had made arrangements to meet at a local restaurant famous for its intimate, laid back decor. The King George Inn was now famous for the union of Ali and Terry. I asked Ali if she’d rather call our newly claimed special place “The King” or perhaps “The George” she just laughed and slid into her seat. I couldn’t believe my good fortune as I dropped into my seat across from Ali. We ordered wine and decided food was irrelevant. Ali was my queen, my hotness. Ali’s cute face was wreathed by stunning long hair and her eyes just went on with a blue that announced a serious brain on the other side. I decided to break the ice by complementing Ali on her prominent breast works. Ali almost lost her wine laughing at my rather forward observation but clearly she delighted with my attention.

We talked, we laughed, and we planned to offer our special selves to each other. Time stood still. Finally time evaporated and I escorted Ali to a cab and watched her disappear. My heart was broken until I realized this was just a tune up for next Friday. Oh did I mention we had plans for an all-day fetish event, alone, with no limits? Our deepest desires on the line and waiting.

We couldn’t leave it alone. Our calls continued and our lovers in love theme dissolved into pure BDSM Dom Sub chat.

I sent Ali a nice picture of a kneeling woman in her underwear with her hands tied behind her back. Ali liked that and encouraged me to branch out. I sent a picture of a woman bound with a rope pressed through her cunt. Nice. I commented on the roughness of the sisal rope. Ali though it might serve to focus attention and wondered if I had a piece of rope like that for her. I assured her I did and couldn’t wait to rig her appropriately.

Our graphic encouragement continued. We discussed aspects of the Dom Sub ethos. How to use correct titles. I settled on Sir. I’m not a big fan of the whole Master thing. zonguldak escort Ali insisted that her submissive desires were tied to pleasing me completely, without any reservation. I couldn’t tell her that my only desire was to possess her heart and the body that it beat in. What was I thinking? I started with a yearning to fulfill my BDSM desires and now I had fallen in love with my prey. Clearly a dangerous mixture of carnal desire and the things that make life important.

Ali was steadfast that she was a submissive and her desire was to serve her Dom. I wanted to explore how we could manifest her desires. Ali was sure about this and went into detail about collaring, leashing in private and subtle collaring in public. I wanted it all. No limitation. Ali was mine and subject to my command. I felt comfortable and strangely empowered. The whole Dom – Sub relationship made so much sense, was so primal and filled an aching hole in me. What I couldn’t process but I loved was that despite Ali’s Sub status she had ideas, she had interests and goals. A smart poised woman who clearly knew what she wanted. Who was I to argue? I went with the flow. My heart ping ponged between ecstasy and disbelief. How could we ever become the couple we envisioned?

I can’t do justice to the enormity of the tale by leaving it at that. I try to understand, to process, to be at peace but nothing will let that happen. I must deliver the details and I ask your forbearance. We fell into two hour long phone calls a day. Ali called me to preserve her privacy and to make sure she wasn’t overheard. I had the same problem. I used a convenient over the ear Bluetooth device with my mobile phone. I would stalk around my yard every morning trying with Ali to make sense of our previous evening’s ramblings. As I mentioned, we yo-yoed between intense BDSM – Don/Sub conspiracies and a potential life changing joining of our fortunes. Probably our biggest mistake was mixing our interests. We crossed the streams with spectacular results. Very satisfying, terrifyingly tragic.

Our evening calls were the most satisfying for us both. Mostly because of the solitude of our individual settings. Ali was out walking her small dog so she was away from all her hubbub at home and able to really concentrate. And concentrate she did. Ali had some very specific ideas about her Submissive role and constantly tried to get my views, to draw me out with seemingly innocent but usually very charged questions. “My dear, do you think a Sub should spit or swallow” was par for the course with Ali.

I was usually outside as well with a nice fire going in my Chimenea and a decent glass of wine at hand. I could feel the beginning cool air of early fall, see the autumn constellations wheel overhead, and enjoy the quiet. Occasionally the sound of dried leaves rustling down toward the ground would fill the background sounds.

We talked, we laughed, we plotted, and we planned. Our ruthlessness regarding our families, jobs, friends, and social circumstances should have been the first clue to me that my thought process had gone off the rails.

The internet and associated e-mail, text, and chat possibilities assured us that we could exchange our highly charged ideas, observations, and emotional storms. Usually without adequate intellectual vetting and certainly without a real plan built on a solid foundation. We constructed our new public and secret lives on the fragile foundation of our doomed dreams.

Ali’s e-mails always began innocently and then wound up in some steel toothed trap of charged D/S miasma.

Ali to Terry

Speaking in terms of a relationship or BDSM dynamic only, would you say that you enjoy surprises, the unexpected, variety, and spontaneity?

Would you say that in the long term, you would consider your ideal partner to be one that embraced personal growth and accepted part of the responsibility of initiating innovative play?

Terry to Ali

Ha, Ha. Is this a trick question? I suspect you already know the answer. Surprise, innovative play can on one hand be a delightful addition or a delicious opportunity for ritual correction. Win win. Don’t you think Il Mio Amore?

Ali to Terry

Not a trick question. Just trying to learn about you.

Terry to Ali

Well I hope it was instructive but seriously didn’t you see my reaction coming? I have tarted up a little ditty for your inspection and enjoyment. I messed up tense and sentence structure but I was determined to move our discourse in another direction. Your impressions and possible effect on your day will be eagerly awaited. BTW would you rather a Word Doc or is the in-line approach acceptable? I offer for your enjoyment and arousal, “Ali Surrenders”.

Ali Surrenders

You enter the room and things seem slow and tinged with deep shadows. You notice the candles and sense some exotic fragrance that seems to infuse the air. You’ve seen this before and sure enough there is the chair front and center. A pillow is positioned in front of the chair and another on the right side. Nice comfortable pillows reassure you that your Dom Lover has your comfort in mind. You ass isn’t so sure. Your man enters the room, he’s wearing a short silk robe and underneath a pair of short black silk shorts. He’s got a gleam in his eye, a crop and paddle in hand, and an intoxicating cologne that seems to make your erect nipples quiver.

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