The Virgin Dating Game

by Sky Corgan

  That night, I went out with Tanya and Vinny to a restaurant. Just like the time when I came over to watch movies with them, I was pretty much ignored until I brought up what had happened in Damien's classroom.

  “You don't happen to have any idea who the woman was?” I asked after describing her to them.

  “Probably the next person he was going to fuck,” Vinny said, which was met by a jab in the ribs from Tanya.

  “Don't be so rude,” she chastised him.

  Even though I knew he didn't really know what he was talking about, I still felt the fires of jealousy rage through me. The thought of Damien with another woman irrationally infuriated me. I had nothing to worry about though. He had already told me that he belonged to me. And besides, I had left the marks on his back to prove it. If he did sleep with someone else, they would know I had been there first.

  “The guy has a track record, is all I'm saying.” Vinny shrugged.

  “You don't know that,” Tanya argued.

  “Hey, I only know what I've heard.”

  “So neither of you have any idea who the woman was?” I asked.

  “It could have been the dean. The description matches,” Vinny said before taking a sip of his soda.

  “Stop it. You're gonna freak her out.” Tanya pushed him.

  “It's a little too late for that,” I said, not knowing whether to believe Vinny or not. The more time I spent around him, the less I liked him. He definitely did not get the Chey seal of approval, and I couldn't wait until his entertainment value for Tanya had run its course.

  “I'm being serious. It sounds like she was probably Kim Westerman. She's the dean of the school, you know?” he told us.

  “I didn't know,” Tanya admitted. “I don't keep up with that crap.”

  “How can you not know the dean of the college you go to?” Vinny teased her.

  “I didn't know either,” I said. “I mean, I was told at some point, and it's not something that struck me as particularly important to remember.”

  “I bet you'll remember now,” he joked, making an obnoxious face before dipping one of his fries in ketchup and chewing it noisily.

  Hate this guy.

  “So how are things aside from that?” Tanya asked.

  “Good, I think. If all goes well, I'll get my training collar this weekend.”

  I expected her to ask more questions, but her interest died the second Vinny slid his hand across her inner thigh. From that point on, they were in their own little world, laughing and joking and cuddling and kissing, and barely acknowledging my presence. It made me angry . . . and jealous.

  Even though I was certain Damien and I had better sex than them, we didn't share the same kind of relationship. I didn't get to hold his hand in public, or go out on dates, or introduce him to my parents. At times like this, when I was surrounded by normal people in normal situations, it didn't even seem like we were in a real relationship, more like something fantastical he had come up with to suit his bizarre needs. That wasn't true though, and I knew it. There were other Dominants and submissives out there. But did they act like we did? Did they hide their relationship from viewing eyes? Some probably did. But more didn't. It wasn't just the BDSM part of our relationship that accounted for our queer behavior, but also that fact that he was a professor, and I was a student. Our relationship was forbidden. Before I met Damien, I would have thought that was romantic. Forbidden love had always held an appeal to me. Experiencing it was a completely different story though. There are few things that suck more than not being able to be public with the person you love.

  Once we had finished eating, we parted ways, and I headed home, obsessing about my discontent with everything. Vinny had taken away my sounding board. Damien was too distant to talk to. My mother couldn't know about our relationship. There was no one else I felt I could really turn to. I was beginning to feel very alone.

  For some reason, I had a hard time not masturbating that night. Perhaps it was the thought of seeing Damien the following day, and the memory of what we had done in his classroom. Aside from the random woman spoiling our heated moment, it was like something straight out of a porn. It never ceased to amuse and amaze me how creative Damien was. We had fucked on his desk in every position I could imagine, though I was sure that he hadn't shown me all that could be done with it. The guy was a sexual MacGyver. That was part of his appeal though. I doubted our sex life would ever get boring or stale, as I'd heard happened with so many other relationships.

  The next day, I tried to hit up Tanya for some midday shopping, but Vinny got to her first. When she asked me if I wanted to hang out with them, it was easier to say no than I thought. Seeing them together was starting to get to me on multiple levels. Next time I got Tanya alone, I'd have to talk to her about us having our own time, not that I thought she would listen. Hell, if I got her alone, I should probably take advantage of it and pour out all of my problems, not waste it on words she wouldn't follow anyway. Hoes before bros, that one.

  I called my mom as a backup plan, but she was at work, so I ended up having to spend the day alone. Bored and with nothing better to do, I got a headstart on my laundry and some of the other cleaning, then watching television until it was time to go to Damien's house.

  The collar of consideration was snug around my neck when I knocked on his door. Hopefully, I'd be walking out with a training collar, if we both felt like that was the appropriate next step.

  When Damien opened the door and looked down on me, I sensed a certain level of discontent, and fear rushed through me as I was suddenly reminded of the woman who had heard us screwing in his office. Either he's had a bad day, or something is weighing on him.

  “Are you alright?” I asked as he led me to the classroom.

  “Just a little stressed is all,” he replied dully.

  “Care to talk about it?”

  “It's none of your concern.”

  We sat in our usual spots, with me on the bed and him in the chair in the corner of the room. He really didn't look like he was into dealing with me today.

  “If you don't feel well, I can leave,” I said, though my tone spoke otherwise. It was selfish, but I relished my time with Damien—couldn't get enough of it. The thought of missing out on an evening with him made me sad.

  “No. I don't want you to leave.”

  “Is this about that woman? Was she the dean?” My stomach twisted from the word.

  “She was.” He nodded.

  “Are you going to get fired?”

  Damien sighed, avoiding my eyes, but his expression said it all. This did not have a happy ending.

  “She's allowing me to finish out the semester,” he said finally.

  “Oh, Damien, I'm so sorry.”

  I wanted to go to him, to pull him into my arms and tell him everything would be alright, but I was afraid of how he'd react. Was he too strong to want comfort? Would it be out of line for me as his submissive to offer it to him?

  “It will be alright. At least she's giving me the option to resign and not firing me outright. It was a kindness, to be honest. By all rights, she should have made me pack my desk that very afternoon, but we have a bit of a history. That's the only thing that saved me,” he told me.

  For a while we sat in remorseful silence. My brain screamed for me to do something—anything, but I didn't know what.

  “I'm here for you,” I said. “I don't have much to offer, but if there's anything you need from me, just ask it. I love you so much. I'm so sorry this happened.” My eyes welled up with tears, and my hands began to shake. Stupid, stupid, Chey. Why are you crying at a time like this? That's the last thing he needs.

  I knew why though. It was guilt—guilt for knowing I had played a part in all of this, even if it wasn't directly my fault. If I had just ignored Damien's text, maybe he'd still have a job.

  Suddenly, the roles were reversed. Damien crossed the distance between us, and I found myself sobbing in his arms. He stroked my hair gently, telli
ng me not to worry, that it wasn't my fault and everything would work out. His voice was so soothing, his embrace so warm. I melted against him, wanting nothing more than to stay in his arms forever.

  “It's my fault, really, for enforcing that no masturbation rule. I guess my willpower isn't as good as I thought,” he told me, breaking my sobs with soft laughter.

  I looked up at him, grinning through my tears. “Really? Is that why you called me to your classroom?”

  “It was.” He nodded. “I was so horny I don't think I could have gone another day without imploding.”

  The thought was both amusing and arousing. Maybe all of my fantasizing about Damien's aching cock had been accurate. A sick need pulsed between my legs, totally inappropriate for the situation. Was I truly so insatiable that my body could turn even this tragedy into a sexual stimulant?

  I bit my bottom lip, placing my hand on his thigh and rubbing towards his crotch. “And how do you feel right now?” I asked.

  He gazed down at my hand. “I feel like you're trying to seduce me.”

  “Maybe I am.” I craned my neck for a kiss, tasting my salty tears on his lips. His mouth was soft against mine, feeling more vulnerable than needy.

  When our lips parted, I found myself slipping to my knees, working to unfasten his belt bucket. Damien watched me, allowing me to take the lead for once. There wasn't much I could do for him, but this was one thing.

  He groaned as I took him into my mouth, sucking and nibbling and caressing, worshiping his cock with my lips and tongue. I enjoyed the feel of it growing firm as I pleasured him, the way the meaty length of it filled out, and his veins bulge against the surface. Men's anatomy had always fascinated me.

  Damien's touch was gentle, moving my hair away from my face, so he could watch me suck him off. The fire in his eyes wasn't there. Carnal Damien was asleep, somewhere deep inside. Tonight he was someone else, someone who wanted to give up control instead of taking it.

  When I could taste his salty pre-come, I laid him back on the bed and crawled on top of him, hiking up my skirt and moving my panties aside to take him inside of me. I groaned as his bulbous tip spread me wide, fitting perfectly, as if our bodies belonged together. Once he was in all the way, I began to move my hips, using all the skills I had learned from his sex position video. He stared up at me, his eyes betraying no sign of pleasure.

  “Would you rather be on top?” I asked, suddenly feeling insecure.

  “No. You're doing just fine,” he told me, so I continued.

  I rode him until my body peaked, and then I kept on going. My thighs began to ache, and sweat made my shirt cling to my back, but I didn't stop. Everything in me was consumed with the desire to make him come. For once, my mind was more focused on his pleasure than my own. It was a strange switch from the norm, but different could be good sometimes.

  Eventually, his eyes became hooded, and I could feel that he was about to reach his limit. Damien's hands came to rest on my hips, and he began to buck, the friction building so much that I could feel a second orgasm coming on.

  “Are you on birth control yet?” he asked.

  “No.” I shook my head, feeling guilty for dragging my feet about getting on it.

  He gave me a disapproving look, but didn't stop thrusting. The waves of pleasure were coming, and as soon as Damien felt my first contraction around his throbbing member, he was urging me off, spilling a jet of semen onto his black T-shirt. I laid beside him breathlessly, waiting for my orgasm to finish playing out, though all the movement had dulled it a bit.

  Damien pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the floor, and I rolled against him, practically forcing him to put an arm around me, so I could rest my head on his chest. We lay in silence for several moments, catching our breath as I ran my fingers through the soft coating of short dark hair on his chest and watched his muscles contract. Damn, did he have a beautiful body. Looking at him like that made me feel oddly grateful that I was in his bed, and it wasn't someone else.

  “Do you know what I want for Christmas?” I asked and then instantly felt bad about it. The last thing he probably cared about was what I wanted for Christmas, especially since he was about to lose his job. It was such a selfish thing to have said, and yet it had left my mouth before I could stop it.

  I half expected Damien's response to be rude or demeaning, but instead he just replied, “No.”

  “I want you to shave this off,” I told him, swirling my finger over his heart.

  He turned to look at me. “You don't like body hair?”

  “I prefer my guys shaved.”

  “I trim it, as it is.”

  “I know. I want it all off though.”

  “If that's what you want,” he sighed, kissing me on top of the head. “You need to get on birth control if we're not going to be using condoms anymore.”

  “I know. I'll see if I can't get in to see the doctor on Monday after school.”

  “Make sure you do. I don't like having unprotected sex knowing you're not on the pill.”

  “Have you ever gotten someone pregnant before?”

  “No, but I've had a few scares, and it's never fun.”

  I made a soft noise in reply and cuddled tighter against him. What would I do if Damien Reed got me pregnant? While I was certainly too young for children, I couldn't help but think we'd make beautiful babies together. Maybe someday. Was that even allowed in a BDSM relationship? Did he want children later on? There was so much I still didn't know.

  He continued, “Have you put any thought into whether you want to continue your training or not?”

  “I have,” I replied.

  “And?”

  “I'm nervous about all the extra rules you're going to make me follow, but I think I'm ready for it.”

  “There really aren't too many more rules. For as strict as you think I am, I'm not very strict.”

  “Will the no masturbating rule be on the new contract?” I asked with a smirk, my mind drawn once more to the thought of Damien's cock throbbing painfully beneath his jeans with desire. The image was enough to make me want to climb on top of him and go for a second round, but I stifled the urge, content with being by his side.

  “It will be for you. Not for me,” he said, making me scowl.

  “That's not very fair,” I pouted.

  “Life isn't fair, my dear.”

  I supposed it wasn't. Fair was a world where Damien didn't lose his job just for being with me. It was a world where age didn't matter, only love. No, life wasn't fair.

  “Since you're going to lose your job anyway, does this mean we can start going out together now . . . like a normal couple?” I hesitated, feeling greedy.

  He took a deep breath. “It's funny you should bring that up. Tomorrow, I'd like for you to attend a munch with me.”

  “A munch?” I scrunched my nose at the word, immediately thinking about carpet munching. My clit throbbed with approval.

  “It's a public social gathering for people of the lifestyle. I thought it would be good for you to meet other Dominants and submissives.”

  “Oh,” I replied, unsure of what else to say. All I could picture was a room full of leather and vinyl clad people walking around and talking to each other. “How many people will be there?”

  “It varies. With this particular group, it can be anywhere from six to thirty people.”

  “That's a lot of people.”

  “Luckily, they're having it at a burger joint this time. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to take you. They usually have it at a bar.”

  So he is going to take me out in public. The thought was exciting, though this was far from the first date that I had pictured.

  “Am I going to have to dress up in leathers and wear my collar?” I asked, even though I didn't own any leathers to dress up in.

  “No,” he gave a short breathy laugh. “It's a very casual event. People wear their normal everyday clothing.”

  “So, it's kind of just like a luncheon then?”


  “Kind of.”

  “That doesn't sound too bad.”

  “It isn't.”

  “What time is it?”

  “One. So, it's going to be an early day tomorrow. I hope that doesn't conflict with your plans. I know this is a bit last minute, so I'll understand if you can't go. I wasn't informed of it until last night.”

  “I'll go,” I said quickly. There was no way I was going to miss a change to be out with Damien in public. Not that I had any plans anyway. At most, I might have gone to see my mother, since I knew she almost always had Sundays off. This would be a lot more fun though.

  “Good. Shall we go look over your training contract?” he asked, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze before moving to sit up.

  “Mhm.” I nodded, standing to follow him into the living room.

  The paperwork was waiting for me on the coffee table, the same as usual. I picked it up and looked it over, noticing that a new set of vocabulary words had been placed on top of it.

  “Did you finish your definitions?” Damien inquired.

  “Yes, but I left them out in the car.”

  “Yes, Sir,” he corrected me. “You've got a lot of corner time coming for that constant slip up, if I remember correctly.”

  I groaned internally. Why did I have such a hard time calling him Sir?

  “So do you want me to get my definitions first, punish me, or have me sign this contract?”

  He thought for a moment. “You can give me your definitions before you leave. Read the contract first. If there are any changes that need to be made, then you won't sign it until tomorrow because it will have to be revised. Afterward, we'll worry about punishment.”

  “Yes, Sir.” I straightened the papers, moving the vocabulary list to the back to focus on the contract.

  At the top, it said Training Contract. Below, the verbiage was pretty much the same as what I had received in the contract of consideration, except for that this contract addressed things specific to my training instead of my consideration. Aside from that, there were only a few minor changes, mostly involving the level of discipline I'd receive, an increase in assignments, which included keeping a detailed journal of my sessions with Damien and my feelings towards my submission, and the expectations of higher standards. I was also to turn in my schedule to Damien once a week, not that he didn't already know it, and basically inform him of where I would be at all times. When I got to the last page of the contract, which listed my hard and soft limits, I didn't know if I should smirk or be angry. Damien had moved most of my hard limits to the soft limit area. Crafty bugger.