After a brief pain-and-pleasure-tinged flirtation with a gorgeous coed, Carl must wait years to find his one true BDSM beauty.

When I was nineteen, I had a game-changing sexual experience. That lone erotic episode would haunt me for years and eventually shape the type of sexual creature I would become. My true self.

I was never one of those studly guys. I wasn’t bad looking, just insecure. Mostly, I lacked confidence to approach women who I found attractive. Out of all my passing crushes, one actually led to the most memorable moment of my life. From the first day of college, I’d nursed a wicked crush on a beautiful lady named Hillary.

She was my dream girl, as stunning as a model, with the sort of long blonde hair that looks like spun gold. She carried herself with assurance, but she wasn’t mean or bratty.

Even so, I couldn’t bring myself to ask her out until a week before she was set to transfer to an out-of-state college for her sophomore year. Hillary surprised me by agreeing immediately to see me. I picked her up in my truck, and we went out to eat, then drove along dusty back roads around our small town.

She suggested we park. I pulled onto a trail halfway into an empty field. When Hillary turned to me and smiled, the moment felt surreal. Was this really happening? I’d had sex a few times, and the women had all given me that same look right before we did it.

“Something wrong, Carl?” Moonlight spilled through the windshield. Hillary looked so lovely gilded in the silvery light.

With the engine off, I was intensely aware of the country night sounds, birds and breezes. “I can’t believe I’m here with you.” I didn’t want to say anything more than that, didn’t want to make any presumptions.

Her laugh was like music. She reached over and ran her fingers through my hair. I shivered.

“I wish you’d asked me sooner,” she said. “Or wished I’d asked you out. I’ve had my eye on you for… a while.”

That comment opened up a whole world of missed opportunities for me to regret, and I promised to give myself some thorough mental kicks later. For now, I concentrated on the moment.

“You’re so hot!” I blurted out.

Even that stupid outburst didn’t put her off. She slid across the seat into my arms. Her body was a wonder in my eager embrace, firm and lithe. She raised her pert little mouth to mine.

We kissed.

I swear fireworks went off behind my eyelids. Her lips tasted like nectar, and when they parted and I felt her tongue, my cock surged in my jeans. Her breathing shortened. I opened my eyes as we parted, and heat showed in her cheeks.

“Tell me what to do!” she said.

“What?”

“Tell me” — I heard a plea in her voice — “what you want me to do.”

It was like a genie had granted me a wish. Her words were so unexpected I sat there and gaped. But my fevered brain leaped into overdrive, and I nearly shouted, “Take your top off!”

An excited grin flashed across her face before her expression became demure and submissive. With lowered eyes, she peeled off her halter. No bra underneath. Her breasts were full, pink nipples perked up. Her skin seemed to drink in the starlight.

I was totally astonished by the sight of her. “What now?” she asked meekly.

“Touch your tits.” The words came magically. With them, I felt a strange rush of confidence. She’d given me control, and I felt heady with power.

She obeyed. She cupped those pale mounds of flesh and squeezed. I’d never had a woman do this in front of me. She was thrilling to watch. “Tweak those nips,” I said, and she did that, too, pinching herself and sighing. My cock was a steel bar.

When I unzipped, Hillary gazed at my meat with lustful admiration. I was turned on by her half-naked body, but it was her eager obedience that made me tremble. I felt good — I felt right — giving her orders, making her do things. And she, very obviously, wanted to be the one submitting to my wishes. I wondered if that was why she’d had an eye on me, if she had sensed I might like this kind of thing.

I wanted to touch her, so I did. I reached over and seized her tit, strength pouring into my grip. Her whole body writhed, and instinctively, I squeezed her harder.

“You’re hurting me,” she whimpered.

Instantly, I let go, my sense of dominance replaced by concern. But Hillary’s hand clapped over mine, pressing it back onto her breast. “Don’t stop! Please.”

Something turned over deep inside me with those words. I felt a tidal shift, a sea change. Every sexual circuit in my psyche reconfigured itself in that moment. Hillary’s willing submissiveness fit perfectly with my newly discovered urge to dominate.

I mauled her breast with my hand, fingers digging in. I raked her other tit. She cried out, a sweet mix of urgency and surprise. I sensed the line, where I could go without really hurting her. She shivered with delight. She was truly wired for this kind of action. I told her to pull up her skirt, take off her panties, and finger her pussy. She did, jamming in two fingers, nearly panting. She hadn’t even touched my cock, and this was already the best sex I’d ever had.

My truck’s windows were steamed up by the time I told her, “Get your mouth on my rod.”

Now remember, I wasn’t terribly experienced sexually. I’d received one other blowjob in my life, from a girl so tentative she wouldn’t take more than a few inches of my dick into her mouth. Watching Hillary drool in anticipation before she squirmed around on my truck’s seat to lower her head toward my cock was almost too much to take.

Blonde hair spilled. Her skirt was a band of disarrayed cloth around her middle. Her bare ass poked toward the ceiling of the cab. I wound my fingers into her hair, gripping at the roots. She groaned with pleasure. I would control the tempo of the blowjob, I thought with evil joy. I would bob her head up and down on my straining shaft, forcing every inch of cock down her throat. And I knew she would obey — and like it.

Those glorious moist lips closed around my cockhead. Sensation whipped through my body, every lean muscle thrumming with pleasure, my bones pulsing with a deep-seated thrill. She started swallowing me, her tongue dancing.

And right then — dammit — I came. I absolutely could not stop myself. Ecstasy seized me. My balls tightened, and I let go of my juice in a huge first spurt. Hillary kept her mouth dutifully on me. But with my second jet of come, I was already feeling a terrible regret and embarrassment. I’d wanted to fuck this woman. I’d been half-imagining all sorts of wicked things we could do together. Now my load was blown.

She made a satisfied sound as she sat up next to me, and I heard her swallowing the last of my cream. I blushed and could barely look at her. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, Carl?” she replied, nonplussed. “I’m so glad we got to do this. But it’s getting late, and I’ve got to be up early. Stuff to do before I leave.”

I was too mortified to argue. I doubted I could have gotten it up again anyway. Hillary and I stayed in touch, but it was never practical for me to go visit her at her new college. By twenty-two she was married. I envied the hell out of that guy, picturing her crawling for him, obeying him, maybe submitting to spankings and other fun S & M diversions.

Meanwhile, I was left incomplete.

Six years on and I was still branded by that night. Ridiculous, huh? Some groping and an over-too-soon blowjob had changed my life. I wished I could say it changed for the better.

Problem was, I’d never found another woman like Hillary. Sure, there were web sites and dating services, but none of them appealed to me. However, as I’d gotten older, I was a lot more successful with women. But that success made me realize how rare Hillary was. She was a fully formed human being who liked some power play mixed with her sex. I hoped to find another woman like her one day, and many years later, I did.

I was working at a financial office where staff came and went. One day, I noticed a new employee. She was in her mid-twenties with dark hair. She moved with a graceful wariness, like she was ready to spring in any direction at any moment. But she wasn’t a nervous type.

I observed how toned the backs of her thighs were beneath her beige skirt.

“Getting an eyeful, sailor?” She’d turned suddenly.

“Sorry. Sincerely. You caught me.”

She chuckled. “It’s okay. I’m against the idea of making all men wear blinders.”

At lunch we chatted more. Her name was Corina. Her big thing was physical training. She enjoyed biking, running, basketball. I could feel the attraction between us, and I was sure it was mutual. When I asked her out, she offered a counter-proposal.

“Come train with me this weekend. Hours of hardcore exercise. I call it the Punishment Zone.”

I agreed and met up with her on Saturday. We ran a daunting uphill trail outside the city where I now lived and worked. I managed not to fall on my face halfway up. Next time would be easier, Corina promised. I grinned at the thought of a next time.

Her grueling workouts became our shared routine, definitely a different kind of dating. My stamina did improve. The exertion felt good. On our third outing, we came off fifty straight minutes of one-on-one hoops. We had roughed it up a bit on the basketball court, in a friendly way, of course.

“I’m sorry if I played too harshly,” I said.

“I’m not. I call these exercise sessions the Punishment Zone for a reason.”

“Just how much punishment can you take?” I asked innocently, but it wasn’t an innocent question. I thought — or hoped — I was sensing something in this attractive woman, some sexual urge mixed in among the impact and rhythm of our workouts. That night with Hillary called to me over the years. Memory and fantasy merged, and the physical tempos were like the imagined smacks I would have given her delectable ass. I heard her begging voice: Please tell me what to do.

Right now, Corina was gazing back at me, eyes filled with a swirling energy. She said, “I can take all the punishment you can dish out, Carl.”

My cock swelled, bulging inside my gym shorts. “I’d like to punish you, Corina,” I said in a hoarse voice. I had put it all on the line, taking the risk, hoping she was the woman I’d been searching for.

She looked at me a timeless moment longer. Then she said, “I deserve to be punished.”

With that incredible statement she led me to her car, and we headed for her place. On the way, in a clipped tone that didn’t hide her burgeoning excitement, she set down the rules, what she would and would not do. I agreed eagerly, barely able to believe this was happening. We reached her stylish loft apartment. I didn’t ask for a tour as she pulled the steel door shut behind us.

“You need to crawl,” I said, in a forceful growl.

She obeyed immediately, dropping onto hands and knees. Her gym suit was tight on her fine body. I gazed at her taut, curvy ass.

“I bet you want to crawl to the bed.”

Dark, sweat-damp locks spilled over her eyes as she looked up with a pleading expression. “I do, I do.”

“Then beg for it!” My voice cracked through the open loft. The bed was in a half-screened space. I watched her carefully, making sure every step of this was okay with her.

Turned out she was very fine with things so far — and wanted more. “Please, let me crawl to the bed for you!”

Her eyes fell to my big cock bulge. I rubbed myself, sending thrills through my body. “I know you want to suck my dick. Maybe I’ll let you. But right now get to the bed!” I didn’t have to worry about raised voices. The floor was cement, the building’s framework steel. A band could be playing next door and we wouldn’t hear it.

I followed her, staring in wonder. Somehow she looked natural crawling like that. She prowled and slinked, head down, awaiting further orders.

The bed was wide and brass-framed. I stood over her as she knelt at the foot on the floor. “I want you naked,” I said. I wasn’t reading from a mental script, simply winging this. I reached down, grabbed her top and drew it off over her head, exposing her luscious tits. She rolled onto her back, and I pulled off her sneakers and gym pants.

She lay naked and gorgeous on the floor, excitement shining her eyes. “Hands and knees,” I commanded.

Corina complied, presenting her succulent ass to me. Acting on instinct, I reared back and then slapped her left asscheek. She yelped, her cry laced with a note of sexual bliss. A pink handprint appeared on her skin as she writhed lewdly. I didn’t wonder who else might have administered her punishments in the past. In this moment, she was mine, and evidently she trusted me. She’d probably been subtly feeling me out these past weeks, like I’d been doing with her.

I swung the other way, catching her right asscheek. I loved the way her flesh rippled and how the color came up bright and hot. She made a whimpering sound, and I paused. She looked back over her shoulder. “Please don’t stop!” Her hand scrabbled underneath the bed, and then she held out a black leather belt. “Use this.”

In a daze I took it, feeling the nice heft. The leather was worn but still had a pleasing, earthy scent. I doubled the belt and gave it a test swing.

“Get up on the bed.” I wanted her at a level where I didn’t have to stoop.

Corina scrambled onto the brass bed like an eager pet. On her knees, she clutched a pillow and thrust her ass toward me again. She was a quivering mass of desire.

Up until now I’d been holding back, but it was plain she wanted more intensity. I cocked back my arm and let loose. The leather whistled, and the flat of the belt swatted her. The impact was loud and crisp. She heaved a cry into the pillow. Her pussy gleamed, juices flowing.

I cracked her again, just as hard. I was putting real muscle into the blows, and sweat streamed anew on my body. In a rush, I peeled off my workout clothes and stood nude. My cock throbbed mightily.

“Please, more!” Her voice was muffled by the pillow.

The belt slapped her again, eliciting another smothered cry. On impulse, I grabbed the pillow out of her clawing fingers and flung it away. “I want to hear you!” I barely recognized my own voice, the intense commanding tone.

When I struck her next, she let out a carnal peal. What a glorious sound. I had to hear it again. And again.

My eyes stung with sweat and heat. The folded belt shook in my tightly clenched fist. Several minutes had passed. I beheld Corina’s ass, the lovely rounded surface glowing with color.

I dropped the belt. I stepped forward and placed a palm on her ass. She flinched at the contact. But as I withdrew my hand, she spun with amazing speed and grabbed my wrist. I was keenly aware of her physical strength.

“Feel what you’ve done to me,” she insisted.

Laying my hand back on her ass, I felt the palpable heat rising from her flesh. “I hurt you,” I whispered.

“I wanted it,” she said decisively. “I needed it.”

I tightened my fingers, squeezing a hunk of her well-whipped backside. A cry tore from her throat. I clutched the other half of her ass and pulled her toward me. Need burned in me, white-hot.

When I had her in position, I drove my cock straight into her streaming pussy, slamming it home. Corina moaned with surprise and rapture. The cries echoed through my head, reverberating back through the years — through the empty nights of longing, with only the pitiful memories of my brief encounter with Hillary to dull my lack of fulfillment.

Only a strong woman could accept this kind of treatment, I realized. She had to be strong of character, too, emotionally sure. I knew we were equals. I understood that what we shared was precious.

All that added to the pleasure coursing through me, firing up every nerve ending. I plowed Corina, plunging into her hole. I smacked her rosy rear, lost in lust.

“Please! Please! Please!” She’d been begging for half a minute or more. She cried, “Let me come! Please let me come!”

She was holding out, unable (or maybe unwilling) to give herself over to her final bliss without permission from me. I grinned, drunk with the power. But she had truly earned this. “Come for me, Corina!”

She spasmed crazily, arms flailing, hips bucking. I felt her pussy squeeze my shaft, watched her love-liquid gush down the insides of her thighs. She writhed so much she came disconnected from me, tumbling sideways onto the mattress.

Still grinning, I lunged up onto the bed, straddling her tits. Her eyes sprang wide at the sight of my glistening cock approaching her mouth. She opened her lips and took me, every last fucking inch of me. I speared myself into her throat. Her tongue worked my rod.

I thrust into her lovely mouth, balls slapping her chin. I wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, with dark hair haloing her head, her face wet with exertion, those exquisite lips encircling my meat. But words were beyond me. So I let my come tell her for me. The deep joy rose in me. Electric sensations raced across my flesh. The first gush tore through my whole being. Hot cream jetted. My heart pounded. I was fulfilled, even as my essence flooded into Corina’s mouth.

When I tried to pull away, she yanked me back until the last drop had flown. Finally, I rolled off her and lay spent beside her. She curled onto her side, against me. Her come-slick lips brushed my chest. I wanted to say something. Say everything. But my mind couldn’t put the words together.

She said, with a sweet laugh, “I’m glad it’s Saturday. I wouldn’t want to be sitting at my desk tomorrow.”

I laughed and held her, and later I told her how this had been the best day of my life, when I had become the real me.

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