Speed Dating

by Hines, Yvette

  "This is supposed to be Valentine's Day, not April Fool's." Tilting the list toward her friend she asked, "Are these questions serious? Do I like abrasions, spanking, edge play, pain or mummification? Asphyxiation, Nat!"

  Natalie didn't bat and eyelash, giving her an intense look. "It's very serious."

  Jenna stared at Natalie, taking in her outfit and all. Understanding dawned on her. This was Natalie's world: the clients she always spoke about and the controlling manner that was a part of her friend. Jenna may not understand many things on the list, but she was sure Natalie was what people referred to as a Dominatrix. "Nat, why did you bring me here?" "You were in desperate need of a date." Glancing around at the men, Jenna said, "So, dress me up like some

  Thanksgiving bird to be someone's submissive slave?" Jenna watched the tilt of her friend's head as Natalie looked back at her, offense evident in Natalie's face. Jenna almost wanted to take back her words. "Nat—"

  "Look, Jenna, I know this may not be your scene, but give it a chance." She glanced away, looking around. When her eyes returned to Jenna, she continued, "For the last few months, you've been ordering mail in hopes some guy would make the first move. He never did. I think you're looking for something. Who knows? You just might find it here, so give it a chance. If, at the end of the speed dating hour, you don't make a match, I'll take you home."

  Nervous, awkward, and unsure of herself, Jenna bit down on her lip. Looking around at the men and women mingling around the room Jenna considered Natalie's words. Was she looking for something? Was that something or someone here? Her mind screamed no, but another part of her located in the depths of her belly seemed to be sighingyes. "How does all this work?" Jenna dropped her eyes back to the list. "Good girl. Soon, Daria or the Mistress of the Night as she calls herself, will ring a bell signaling everyone to take a seat. Until then we munch and get to know people. She'll also give us the safe-word for the night. Then—"

  "Safe word?" Jenna cut her off. She could feel the tightness of her own face as she tried to make sense of her friend's terminology.

  Natalie laughed, opening up the bag on her shoulder she pulled out a small thin book. "Here, use this tonight. It should keep you out of trouble."

  Taking the book, Jenna scanned the cover. "BDSM Dictionary of Words and Phrases." Flipping through the book to the S's she located the definition for safe word.

  "Yes. If someone tells you they're interested in something or want to do something to you, look it up before you agree. You don't want to get yourself in a bind you can't get out of…all puns intended."

  Tension tightened around Jenna's spine and her sex leaped in response. The thought of her being restrained and unable to move aroused her. She took a cleansing deep breath to keep her voice even. "What do I do if I'm interested in someone?"

  "If you look around the room you will see doors around the walls. You and your partner or partners select one of the available rooms, and you all share the evening however, you see fit. I will caution you, if you see VV on a door, it's for voyeur viewing. Usually it's adjacent to a room marked ES for exhibition stage. So, if you are not ready to watch or be watched, keep aneye on the doors." Nodding, Jenna confirmed. "Got it. VV, ES, and use the dictionary." At that moment, the self-proclaimed Mistress of the Night stood in the center of the room. Beside her, a man who towered over her by a good two feet and wearing a thick dog collar rang a bell.

  All the daters began to head toward the tables and chairs in response to the sound.

  "No turning back now." Jenna muttered to herself as she and Natalie went to the table to claim the last two seats. "One last thing, Jenna." Natalie's voice stopped her. "What?" Jenna's mind already felt as if it were spinning, she didn't

  know if she could take any new information. "If you don't remember anything else tonight, don't forget the safeword." * * * * "So, what's your pleasure?" Jenna asked the prompt question of the man who claimed the seat across from her. Lady Luck must have been with her because she had ended up on the side of the table where she sat stationary and got to ask the questions. So far, she was at her sixth date and no one even sparked her interest. However, all of them made her nervous. Nervous she might find herself alone for Valentine's Day, regardless of Natalie's efforts.

  "Odaxelagnia." The man's black hair offset his pale skin and made it appear as if he hadn't ventured into the sunlight in years.

  Giving him a small smile, Jenna thumbed through the book and read the definition of the word. Jenna lifted her head from the pages and looked at the man in front of her. "You're aroused by biting people?"

  His eyes were intense, in a detached sort of way, shining through the holes in his mask adorned with red feathers, as he said, "I liken myself to a vampire and share in similar delights." He smiled, exhibiting his elongated eyeteeth. Both filed into distinct points. He continued to talk about all the things he would like to do to her if she would agree to be his for the night. The man must have been carried away with his own fantasy as he began to tell her how he wanted to fuck her while several people were biting her.

  Red . Her mind screamed the safe-word as it had done eight other times in the last half hour. Jenna found herself just as shocked as the other people made her, when they asked if she were into stapling, shibar, algophilia, handballing and felching. What ever happened to long walks in the rain and sipping wine by the fire? Saved by the ringing bell—literally. "Maybe I'll see you later." The man stood up slowly, his black cape

  surrounding him. Jenna made no promises as she thanked him for his time. Leaning back in her chair, she wanted to exhale a loud breath. She was unsure if she could get through one more date. She felt exhausted. Uncertain about whether or not it was from the multiple dates in a short amount of time or because she had yet to find anyone who had even sparked a small flicker of desire inside of her, she was at her limit. Someone stepped in front of her vacated chair. Her first view was of narrow hips. As the body lowered into the chair, she noticed a tapered waist, broad chest, strong shoulders, and a set of full lips that made her pussy ache thinking about them on her. Unlike the ghostly man who just left, this man's skin held the deep kiss of the sun. He was the color of midnight. The man's smoke grey top and black leather pants complemented his skin tone. Jenna couldn't help arching her back and pushing her pulsing sex into the seat cushion, feeling it leap with arousal. Crossing her legs, she met the gaze of the man staring back at her. His mask was black with small grey feathers surround the edges. Sitting quietly, he observed her. Using the opportunity given to her, she did the same. Noticing his interlocked hands resting on top of the table, it amazed her how someone hands could appear confident, self assured. His hands were big, like those of a body builder, a mechanic, or just someone used to working with their hands. Hands that knew how to cup a woman's ass, squeeze it just right, and guide her pussy down hard on his cock.

  He made her feel uneasy. Not as the other men and women did, but in a way that made her skin feel like it was on fire knowing that his touch was what she needed to cool her body in every hot place.

  Damn, did one of those other dates hypnotize me? Lifting her hand to her face, Jenna fidgeted with one of the large white feathers at the top of her mask. Get a hold of yourself, girl, he hasn't even said anything yet.

  It dawned on her that the man was awaiting her opening question. Swallowing to moisten her dry mouth,she began, "So, what's your pleasure?" "Talking." His voice was thick and smooth, making her imagine tongues swirling over wet flesh. Rotating her hips, she pressed her thighs together a weak attempt to control her raging hormones.

  "Talking." Her own voice repeating the word sounded different, husky as if spoken by a stranger. Unashamedly, she jerked the book up scrolling rapidly down the T's. "Talon, tantric, tattooing, tawse, teasing, teledidonics, terror play, tit torture…" Jenna's voice drifted off as her gaze rose away from the pages. Perplexed and frustrated she couldn't find the definition of the word, she said, "I'm sorry, but you're going to have to explain
, talking isn't in here."

  "Maybe it's because you have the wrong book. You need Webster's," his speech calm, with a hint of teasing evident. Curious, Jenna asked, "Webster's. Like in Master Webster?" Chuckling, the man announced, "No, like MerriamWebster's...which defines talking as to make the subject of conversation or discourse and—"

  "To express or exchange ideas by means of spoken words," she finished, before dropping her masked face into her hands. Embarrassed and stupid the two feelings ran rampant through her body. "Don't worry, it could happen to any newbie," he reassured. Laughing at her own foolishness, she sat up and gave him a small.

  "Let me guess, my use of the dictionary gave me away." "Not as much as your outfit," he declared. "What's wrong with it?" Anxious, Jenna sank her teeth into her bottom lip. Oh, shit, was I sending out some deviant signal I didn't know about? That would explain the bazaar request from the earlier dates. "Nothing. The color is for those who are new to this lifestyle." "Oh," relief washed over her like a cool breeze. "Would you like to continue your education?" The bell rung. The man stood, respecting the rules. Now or never. "Yes," breathless and eager, Jenna called out her answer. There was no doubt in her mind she made the right decision. If I can't have my chocolate delivery man, this man would do.

  Staring at her, he gave her a sexy smile. "The lady has chosen." He said to the woman moving over to her table, never breaking his eye contact with Jenna.

  "And chosen well." The woman's only words as she stepped around himand continued to the next table. Holding his hand out, he asked, "Shall we begin?" Slipping her hand into his, Jenna rose. Not asking where he was taking her, she followed. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Natalie wave at her as she headed to a room with a white woman in a flesh colored transparent outfit and a man who Jenna remembered asking her if she were into Algophilia. For a brief moment, she wondered who was the pain slut, Natalie or the woman in the clear outfit.

  Three

  "Here we are." He opened a door and stepped aside for her to enter. Jenna walked in. Amazement struck her at the warmth of the room. For some reason she always thought bondage rooms would be cold. As she glanced around, she noticed a fireplace with flames high and licking as if dancing. In the center of the room sat a large sleigh style bed with open wooden slats at the head and footboard. For tying, she assumed. Scattered about were chairs, tables and a massive armoire with intricate carvings that covered an entire wall. The room looked spacious and elegant—another shocker. If she'd seen it in a magazine, she would have assumed it was someone's bedroom located in a house, not a fetish den. "Are you interested in others joining us?" he asked. She faced him. "No." Jenna watched as he slid a small panel on the door. She had no fear of anyone watching them or them watching someone, because when they stopped at the room she made sure to check for the letters outside. She was already taking one step into the unknown, she wasn't ready for two. A click sound signified the door's closing. He stepped in front of her. His scent, masculine and heady, wrapped

  around her. "How far do you want to go tonight, my vanilla princess?" Smooth silk. His voice caressed her skin causing goose bumps to

  rise on her arms. "Vanilla as in plain," she was sure she sounded disappointed. She'd hoped that even if she couldn't spark an interest in Malcolm, this man, in this place, might've found her sexy.

  The stroke of his finger along her cheek was unexpected, just as the electric shock that stung her at his contact. Jenna flinched. "The carpet."

  "Maybe," he said, brushing her bottom lip with his thumb. He paused then dropped his hand. "Vanilla as in new. There is nothing plain about you." Laughter bubbled up from inside of her before she could stop it. "I'll

  allow you your fantasy." "Hmm. I'll remind you of that later." His declaration cut her humor short. "Vanilla princess, you never answered my question. How far do you

  want to go tonight?" Shrugging a single shoulder, Jenna responded honestly, "I don't

  know. I wouldn't even know where to start or what to call you." "How about, L'entraîneur." This time he placed two of his fingers

  on her mouth, sliding them back and forth. His focus so sharp, he appeared mesmerized by his own

  movements. The gentle touch made her lips tingle. Brown eyes, met hers as he removed his hand once again. Licking her lips, she asked, "The trainer. Not maître?" "La princesse de vanille, sait le français?" "No," she giggled. "If you keep going on, I'll really show my

  ignorance of the language. There's very little I remember from college." "I like the sound of your laugh." He stepped away from her. "One summer I visited a friend whose family was stationed in Luxembourg. However, to answer your question, not Master. Never Master when one is just beginning. That title is built on trust and security. Only a submissive can make that choice."

  Fidgeting, Jenna seized a side of her bottom lip and ran a hand down the slick waves of her hair fingering the uncharacteristic bun. "There so much I don't know."

  She thought she heard him groan, but he turned away from her so quickly, Jenna wasn't sure.

  "I'll make things simple for you. Only two things are important for you to know tonight." "They are?" she inquired. "I'm in charge." He tilted his head to the side as he spoke. "Will that

  be an issue?" Viewing his profile, Jenna shook her head then confirmed her action with her words. "No," she responded, ecstatic she didn't mistakenly stumble upon a guy who wanted to be dominated. She would have been clueless.

  "Lastly." Strutting toward the armoire, he asked, "Do you remember the safe-word?" "Red." "Very good." He opened one of the many cabinets and pulled out a stool. "Read me everything on your list you have rated a two or three, identify the column as well."

  Dropping her eyes to the form, Jenna felt beads of sweat pop out on the back of her neck. She'd forgotten she was even holding it. When she'd marked her form earlier she never considered the moment she would have to reveal her hidden desires to someone. "Wouldn't you like to just read it?" Jenna held the clipboard toward him. "Read the list, vanilla princess," his voice weighted with authority. Jenna didn't want to start the night off on a bad foot so she pulled the form back and began to read. "Column two. Anal with finger and cock, fellatio, fucking, hand job, handcuffs, licking, massage, masturbation, photography." She paused, her throat felt tight and her hands were shaking. "Continue," he ordered. Her temperature was beginning to rise. She didn't know if it was the roaring fire, the rubbery suit, revealing of her secret fantasies, or L'entraîneur. Most likely, it was a combination of all four. "Column three. Bondage, cock worship, double penetration, hair pulling, hot wax, immobilization, and spanking…sex toys…vibrators." Breathless, Jenna finished out her list.

  When she looked up from the list, he was standing in front of her with a stool at his side.

  "Vibrators, vanilla princess? I heard your first list. Your sexual activities weren't traditional?"

  "No, they haven't been. I've never been bold enough to order one. Besides, my hand always got the job done."

  Freeing her hands, L'entraîneur took the clipboard and tossed it on a table."Remove your heels and sit."

  Slipping her feet out of her shoes, Jenna commented, "I thought men found high heels sexy."

  Watching her walk to the stool, L'entraîneur informed her, "To a considerate dominant, sexy is never as important an issue as safety and comfort, especially if someone is going to be in a position for any length of time."

  As she approached the stool she sat, noticing the numerous straps and buckles connected to the supporting bars underneath.

  "From here on out, my vanilla princess, you'll only speak when told to do so. If you speak out of turn, you'll submit to punishment. The only word you can say without prompting is the safe-word. When asked a question you will always respond by beginning and ending with L'entraîneur. Understood?" his voice commanding.

  No turning back, now, Jenna girl . "L'entraîneur, yes. I understand, L'entraîneur." "Good. Put your arms behind you." Jenna obeyed. She heard the
clatter and slapping of leather and buckles, then the grip of the padded cuffs as he placed them around her wrists. Jenna felt wet heat fill her sex at the simple securing action.

  He stood directly behind her. She felt the warmth and power he exuded.

  As he moved passed her his chest brushed her shoulder with his chest, he asked,"Are you wearing panties?"

  At that moment, she wished she'd disregarded Natalie's words about the hilarity of panty lines in a rubber suit, because soon her level of arousal would be apparent to him. "L'entraîneur, no. I'm not wearing panties, L'entraîneur." "Prove it to me." The commanding bite in his words caused more liquid to pool between her thighs, and her clit throbbed. Since he didn't pose a question, there was only one thing she could do. Slowly she parted her legs, revealing a small gap under her skirt. "Wider." Pushing her thighs back until she felt the resistance of the rub material, Jenna stopped. Seeing her peach skin splayed, in contrast to the mahogany colored wood seat and knowing he could see her moist cunt heightened her arousal. "More, vanilla princess." Unsuccessful at her attempt to press the latex hem wider, Jenna

  became frustrated, forgetting her role. "I can't." Instantly, her trainer was before her, disappointment radiating from

  his eyes inside the mask. Jenna knew she'd made a mistake. His hand moved between her legs as more than one finger entered her fast and deep causing her to cry out. With amazing skill and dexterity, his fingers curved inside of her, locating the sensitive spot behind her pubic bone. "I don't remember asking you to speak." His hand didn't move, but

  the slight pressure his fingers exerted made her want to come. Jenna wanted to rotate her hips and grind her clit against his palm,