| Lesbian: BDSM: Donna and Belva Chapter 1 (1/5) |
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Sugar in the Raw I was so exhausted I couldn’t move. Soft shafts of sunlight were coming through the Venetian blinds in my bedroom. I thought I had turned them upwards. Then I remembered the irritating glare from a security light shining in Belva’s eyes; she had asked me to block it. Some time during the night, the tape had come undone. Surprised, I rubbed my wrists. I thought duct tape held everything. It had certainly kept me from moving. Belva was the first Dominant I had ever had who knew how to remove tape without pulling off your skin. As she tenderly cared for me, carefully cutting my sticky restraints, she had said, “The secret’s in the oil. You have to use peanut oil, the good kind with the red bull on it, not that cheap crap they sell at T. J. Maxx and you have to let it soak in really good. The protein eats right through and dissolves the glue.” I had been so turned on by that, meeting someone who was so informed. She had been right too. Coming off, it had felt like wet band-aids being peeled off my arms. There wasn’t much about the D/s world Belva didn’t know. “Belva? You here?” There was no answer. She must have gone. Typical. That was the way our sessions usually ended. We’d pull an all nighter, I’d pass out around sunrise and she’d mysteriously disappear until our next meeting, which was usually every other month. We had met three years ago at an alternative lifestyles retreat sponsored by Good Vibrations. They had set up in the biggest conference room at Buck Lobster, midtown’s four-star restaurant. I remember laughing and thinking, only in California could you dine on lobster tail and filet mignon and then walk next door to check out dildos and floggers. California, you just had to love it. There had been a slew of straight couples there, casting for a third and bi-curious onlookers, but there was a small group of single lesbians like me looking for likeminded partners. I had noticed her immediately when I walked in. It was impossible not to notice Belva. She wasn’t tall, but she carried herself with so much authority, her presence and gait commanded attention. I was drawn to her like a bee to honey. Her short dark brown hair was wavy and spiked with gray, not dull gray, but silvery as if strands of icicles had been woven at just the right places. She had on black leather pants, boots, and a dark suede vest. It was a bit of a cliché, but somehow on her, it all looked natural, the quintessential lesbian Domme. I got wet just looking at her. She was standing at the strap-on display looking at the new line of dildos from Garden Secrets. I walked over and stood beside her, not too close, but close enough to get her attention. For the longest time, she refused to acknowledge me, but finally after she picked up a humongous double dildo she turned and slowly looked me up and down. “This is so fucked up,” she said wobbling the dildo at me like a reprimanding schoolteacher. I remained quiet. What could I say to such an opener. She noticed my dismay and a glint of glee danced and sparkled in her eyes. “These things are usually designed by some dumb ass man who thinks he has an idea of what turns women on, and it’s always the size of the ship and not the motion of the ocean.” she said. I thought she sounded |
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Amazing
