She tossed her sandy blonde hair, causing me to have definite thoughts in the same vein. She was so pretty, with her ponytail coming to the middle of her back, and her perfect proportions. At nineteen, the remaining baby fat was melting away, leaving a stunning figure. We'd been dating since the second month of her freshman year, my sophomore one. As far as she was concerned, I was the only one for her, and I certainly had no complaints.
She got a funny look on her face. "What?" I asked, wondering if she was getting ready to jump me for a quick roll in my well-used bed. She had lost her virginity in that bed after her first semester dormitory formal. Katie’s discovery of sex and the freedom to pursue it with me was going to force me to buy a new mattress—soon.
"I was wondering—about some stuff," she shyly began. That meant she wanted to talk about sex. Since her initial discovery of the thrill of penetration and missionary position sex, she’d wondered about "some stuff" like sex in different positions, sex with the lights on, oral and anal sex. I waved at her to go on. Man, that was good beer… "Well, I have this-umm-fantasy… I mean, I had it when I was a little girl. I’d like, dream of this big, strong man who would take me away from my home and tie me up." I raised my eyebrows. "But I never went past there, because I didn’t know what happened after that."
"And you just happened to think of this now?" I asked. Even through the pleasant fog, I knew what she was asking me to do. I wanted her to say it, so there wouldn’t be any misunderstanding later.
She blushed, and shifted in her seat. "No… I’ve had these—thoughts—since high school, but they’ve been a lot—better—since we’ve been going out. Or more precisely, since we’ve been having sex. Probably because I know what comes afterwards now." Her voice trailed off, and a faint pink crept above her neckline. "I mean, haven’t you had a fantasy?" I nodded, but kept my mouth shut. My particular fantasy would be better served hidden from this midwestern cutie. She got up and sat down next to me, placing her hand on my breast. "I’ll tell you all about mine, if you tell me about yours. It makes me feel really horny when I think of mine," Katie purred. I saw the look in her eyes. She wasn’t lying. "I mean, not having control of the situation… is exciting." She was panting, very softly. "What about yours? Please tell me," she cooed.
The beer had really kicked in, and I wasn’t able to hold it in. "I like watching women smoke. I think it makes them sexy, and it makes me hot." Panic set in when Katie’s body language changed. My comment had broken her fantasy reverie. She didn’t smoke, and was now looking at me strangely. I shrugged with a goofy grin on my face. That way I could always lie and say that I was just kidding. I might even get away with it.
"Really?" I nodded. "You’re not just saying that to make me feel better about my fantasy, are you?" She gave me a way out, but if I took it, I’d be lying. And I didn’t want to do that to her. I gathered up the courage, aided by a few pints of incredibly excellent beer, to tell her that it was true. I said that I had what was known as a smoking fetish. "Oh wow," she said in a small voice. "So do you get as horny watching women smoke as I do thinking about being tied up?"
"It depends on a lot of things, but with the right woman, yeah," I confessed.
"Oh wow…" Sometimes she’s too small-town America. "Is that it, though, really?" I nodded and told her it wasn’t any more complicated. "I guess then, I have to tell you about mine…" Before she finished talking about it, the fantasy (and the possibility of realizing it) had left Katie more than willing. Halfway through, we took each other's clothes off.
The next morning, after we were both sober, we talked about "some stuff" some more. She worried that I would think she was "Weird, with a capital W," because she had a fantasy. "I mean, I don’t know if I meant what I was saying last night or if I was drunk," she babbled. I held up my hand to cut her off, and pointed out that it certainly seemed to make her even more enthusiastic than usual. A small shiver went through her, and her nipples stood up. "Guess I can’t lie about that, can I?"
"Nope." So far so good. No discussion about my own fantasy. I tried to keep it that way, too, as we spent more time that day talking about her fantasies, BDSM in general, and possibly trying it. I gave her my reservations about hurting her, and she promised to find out more if she could. She left my room reluctantly, after giving me a hot, wet, deep, long kiss. "You’d better leave," I panted. "We’ve both got midterms in two weeks."
The best and worst thing about college romance is that you don’t see each other all the time. We were both dedicated students, and realized that our relationship might not last forever, but our transcripts would. We buckled down for midterms, and came up for air at the ice cream parlor a couple of times. No sex was discussed, nothing more about fantasies; we were studying. Katie came over immediately following her last midterm. "Wanna go out to the coffee house with me? I’m fried," she complained. "This has been such a stressful week. My art history midterm was a lot harder than I thought." We went to one of the non-campus coffee places. I ordered our favorites from the waitress, and told Katie I’d be right back. When I got back, she was—lighting a cigarette!!! I sat down, astonished.
"I started again, OK?" she said, somewhat defensively. "I was so stressed I started smoking again." She took a drag from the Marlboro Light, snapped a ball of smoke back into her mouth, and quickly exhaled towards the ceiling. I never knew she had smoked in the first place. "I quit senior year in high school, because I was going off to college. I was quit, too, until last week. I never told you because I didn’t think I’d ever smoke again," she apologized. I just gaped, lust growing. After her next drag, snap –inhale, and quick exhale, she looked at me funny. "What’s the matter? If you don’t like my smoking I’ll quit again—wait!" Katie leaned forward, a light in her eyes. "You have a thing for smokers, right?" I could only nod. "After we finish the coffee, let’s go back to your place and fuck," she whispered. "It excites me when I make you horny for me."
She went to a munch to meet some local BDSM folks and I went along, "just so nobody gets the idea that I’m available." In short order, "lilkatie", as she was known, became an accepted regular on the channel and got invited to attend "play parties." We couldn’t afford to attend the out-of-town parties, and she refused to attend a local party without me. Finally, both of us had free Saturday nights, and there was a local party scheduled. Katie squeezed my hand as she presented her invitation at the door. "He’s with me," she explained.
I looked around somewhat hesitantly as we went in. It looked normal enough. At least until a guy dressed in leather and wearing a mask said, "Doms to the right, subs to the left." Katie went left. I debated whether to follow her. I wasn’t sure if I could stand to see my honey get whipped or worse. At my puzzled expression, the leather man stopped me and asked, "First time?"
I nodded. "I’m here because my—girlfriend—is interested, and she asked me to come. She’s a sub, but I’m not sure if I should be here or not."
He nodded with what seemed like understanding. "You must be lilkatie’s boyfriend. I’m "EvilTwin," he said, extending his hand. We shook. "She talks about you a lot. You’re a really great guy from what she says. Tell you what, after I get done directing traffic, let’s talk. I can tell you’re nervous and worried about her. We’ll all keep an eye out for her. We know she’s a first-timer, too. You can wait in the living room for me." He pointed down the hall. I went, still worried about my sweetheart’s physical and mental health.
About fifteen minutes later, he came into the living room and removed his mask. "I’m Robert. My wife Amanda and I have been in the scene for about twenty years now, Tom. We’re your hosts for the evening. Katie really does like you, and she’s worried that this will drive her away from you."
"Will it?"
"It can," he replied somberly. Although that wasn’t what I wanted to hear, I appreciated his candor. "If she truly is a submissive, then sooner or later, that side of her nature will cause her to split from you, because if you are not a dominant, then she will be unsatisfied. It may be three weeks from now; it may be thirty years. But her submissive side will ultimately not be denied." He smiled. "At least you’re still sitting here. That little speech usually makes them yank their girlfriends out of here post-haste."
"I can’t see myself—hitting her--even if she asks," I said, worried.
"That may not be necessary," he said. "BDSM comes in many different flavors. Some of the most respected doms I know do not lay a finger on subs. Dominance is an attitude, a way of interacting with another person. If it’s any consolation or clue, Katie would very much like you to be her dom. That’s half the battle. The other half is with yourself, convincing yourself that it’s OK to be in control. You don’t have to go to the dungeon. We’ll bring her home if you decide to leave. I know that some of the activities will be disturbing to you. Just remember that everything you see is consensual."
"Robert," I began, "I think I'd better stay, just so I—"
He cut me off. "One of her explicit limits is that nobody does anything involving sex with her. She has been very clear on that, and she's only going to be with experienced doms tonight who will not violate that. If you're not going to participate, you'll have to be willing to trust her at some point." He looked at me.
"I promised her I'd be here," I finally said.
"Then the only thing I ask of you is to not interfere, or say anything," Robert replied, "Or else I will have to have you thrown out." I swallowed hard. And thus began our initiation into the world of BDSM.
One Friday night in August, Katie went to Robert and Amanda's house for a party. As usual, I opted to remain at home. We'd spent some time as a couple with the two of them socially, and away from the BDSM scene. They'd buy us dinner, and we would talk, but never about BDSM. They mostly wanted just to talk with us. I'd grown to like them. In public, you'd never guess that anything was going on unless you had experience with BDSM. In retrospect, I suppose I missed a lot on our double dates. I was at home just watching TV when the doorbell rang. It was Robert. "Hi Tom. Can I come in?"
I immediately worried that something was wrong with Katie. "No, she's fine." Then I started wondering if he was the harbinger of a break-up. "Actually, I came here to invite you to dinner. Just the four of us." I wondered aloud why Katie hadn't said anything. "She didn't know. But Manda and I think that you two really love each other, and this shouldn't come between you. So, we're inviting you over to our house afterwards for some—counseling. We believe it may help. Will you accept?" After confiding my fears about our relationship, and admitting that I didn't want it to end, I accepted. "Great. The car is parked in the back lot."
When I got there, I got a huge surprise. Amanda greeted me by the side of the car and opened the back door. Katie was there, sitting docilely in the back seat. She was wearing different clothes than the ones she left with, and had a collar around her neck. She was blindfolded, and there was something keeping her from speaking. "Go ahead, tom, get in," Amanda gently urged. "The leather leash is for you to hold, but please, don't release Katie until we tell you to. Please, trust us. Now get in before Robert has to explain this to a wandering passer-by or cop!" I reluctantly climbed in. If something bad was going on, at least Katie would know I was going to go through it with her. Tom climbed in the car.
"What's going on?" I demanded, trying my best to sound threatening.
"Take it easy, Tom," Amanda replied as the car swung away from my apartment. "It has come to our attention that you and Katie are very much a couple, and would like to stay that way. Tonight, we're going to help you cope with her BDSM desires. She's been spending far too much time with us."
Tom took over. "So, right now, Katie is the complete sub. She can not do anything you don't want her to. However, you can do anything to her that you want. Right here, in the car. If I were in your shoes, I'd make it something sexual, since nobody else has done that to her while she's subbing."
"I can't kiss her through the gag," I complained. Amanda suggested that I forget about romance, and pay attention to Katie's "physicality." I hesitantly reached out and brushed a nipple through the fabric that was covering it. No bra. Katie almost went through the roof. I realized that her nipples were rock hard.
"She likes that, Tom. I bet she wet herself," Amanda chuckled. "She's been longing for you to do something like that for the last several months. Explore her body, in the semi-privacy of our car."
I reached for Katie's crotch. She tried to keep me from touching her there, arranging her body so that I'd have a difficult time reaching. However, I had the leash and a reach advantage. Instinctively, I gave the leash a tug, moved her dress out of the way, and put my hand right on her pussy. She attempted to purr through the gag, and arched her mound to give me a good idea that she wanted more. I was about to, but for some reason, which I still don't understand, I stopped and put my hand on her thigh instead. She groaned in frustration and moved. I took my hand away completely. Then I began to gently stroke the small of her back, something that gets her worked up. She began to shudder, but using the leash, I was figuring out that she couldn't move much unless I wanted her to. I ran a fingertip along her jaw. I'd never really teased Katie before now. Somehow, in the back seat of somebody else's car, with no possibility to strip and fuck, I began to see the potential in all of the "body information" I'd gathered on Katie. This could be fun. By the time we got to the house, my girlfriend was ready to do some serious fucking.
Strangely enough, I wasn't. I was having too much fun frustrating her. Robert told me to get out of the car. "Well, we're here. Did you have fun? Manda thinks you did." I nodded, grinning. "Now for the next part of your lesson. You are responsible for getting Katie into the house. Her legs are loosely bound, she can't see, or speak, and her hands are tied. You may not change any of this." I wondered aloud why. "Because I want you to feel responsible for her safety. When you are someone's dom, you are responsible for their care, as well as their pleasure. It is a sacred agreement. I want you to get used to being responsible for her." It took about ten minutes, but with a lot of soft and patient instruction, as well as waiting for her because of her physical limitations, we made it, without her falling or banging into anything. I had unconsciously gotten used to having the leash in my hands, too. The effort of making it to the dining room had capped Katie's excitement somewhat, but her nipples were still hard.
"Katie, do you remember your instructions?" Robert sternly asked. She nodded, with her head bowed. "Tom, Katie can not speak unless directly addressed. She is to address you as 'master' when she does. You may remove her gag now, but nothing else." I did, and my girlfriend breathed a loud sigh of relief, but she said nothing. "Let's eat," Robert said. "Amanda was really proud of the meal she put together for us."
I had to feed Katie, because she was still bound and blindfolded. It was actually very romantic; as helpless as she was, I felt that I had to take care of her. I was her protector. The smiles she gave me during the meal made me feel very, very good inside. After dinner, we retired to their patio. "You can take her blindfold off now." Katie blinked a few times, but still said nothing. Her smile went clear to her eyes. "Tom, you've got a really good opportunity here to bring Katie closer to you. It's obvious that you care greatly for each other. I don't think there'll be any problem with your being her dom." Before I could say anything, he continued, "After all, you can give her something she can't get from any other dom. Sex."
"Katie, is this true?" I asked her.
"Yes, master," she softly replied, and I saw her flush, and her nostrils flared.
"This is very arousing to her, as I am sure you know. If you want some privacy, you can go upstairs to one of the spare bedrooms. Otherwise, you can stay out here with Amanda and I," Robert calmly said. "I'll show you some things you can do, because she has agreed to be my sub this evening as well. You have veto power over anything." Over the next hour, he taught me how to use the difference in our relative sizes, and the leash and the collar effectively. Katie kept getting a little hotter when it was time for me to practice. "Finally, there's the possibility of Pavlovian training." Katie and I were both puzzled by this. "Amanda, purple paisley rag flags," Robert said to his wife. Amanda gasped quietly, shock on her face, and turned red. Katie's eyes went wide as Robert smiled, and his wife softly panted, her legs shaking. Suddenly I realized what had happened. "Wouldn't it be fun to take Katie out for an evening at an expensive restaurant and have her orgasm on command?" Katie swallowed hard. "You can play with her now, and she'll have to let you do it, unless she's changed her mind about limits with you. But it's more fun when you've got them trained to orgasm on a verbal command." He paused, and his wife grabbed his hand and squeezed it, saying a very, happy, out-of-breath, "Thank you, master."
I had a hard-on. Katie was looking at me with a slightly worried expression. "Something like that is domination, control of another, and you haven't laid a finger on her. Are you beginning to see the possibilities now, Tom? Or do you need another demonstration?"
My cock was definitely hard. "When I get done with you, Katie, you'll be cumming so hard and so often that you'll never even think about sex with somebody else," I whispered. "Right now, I want to play with your body." My hand ran to her crotch. Her eyes widened, but she whispered, "Yes… master…" We retired to a bedroom. She got very hot, and I teased her mercilessly for about fifteen seconds. Since she was still cuffed (and I didn't have the keys), I made her kneel and take me in her mouth. I didn't last long, but I made her swallow, too. Her inner thighs were soaked. I balled Katie a couple of times more that night. Between round two and round three, somebody slid the keys under the door. Crazed by lust, I took her anally. She fucked back at me with frightening intensity. "Good night, Katie," I said after we'd finished for the night.
"Good night, master," my darling Katie responded sleepily. She cuddled against me and purred. This had promise, because at that last master, my cock gave a twitch. If I didn't have to hit her, I could definitely do this dom gig. To hear her call me "master" was great, it was intoxicating, and it was… a strongly sexual rush.
I was watching my girlfriend smoke later that night, when I started to wonder if I could command her to please me with my particular angles on the fetish. Katie smoked Marlboro Lights, and I had to admit that she did have an attractiveness to her manner when she did it, with the snap-inhales and all, but I had definite ideas about the best way to excite me with smoking. After a little bit of soul-searching, I decided that I would take advantage of our D/s relationship to bring me more pleasure. However, I turned to Robert for more advice first. He noted that, "So far, everything you have done as a dom has been for Katie’s sake, even though you both have reaped some rewards. Since she already smokes, having her do so in a particular fashion to please you is not wrong. But since it is a destructive habit, I would consult with her before you do this, since you are responsible for her care as her dom."
Our fall break was a long weekend in October. I told Katie that we would not be attending any BSDM events that weekend, and that she should come to my apartment for the duration, ready to serve me. She vibrated with excitement at that, and was waiting for me when I got home from my last class on Friday. "Master? How may I serve you?"
"Katie, you know that I have a smoking fetish, correct?"
"Yes, master," she replied. "Would you like me to smoke now?"
"No. Before we go any further, how much do you trust me? I would like you to satisfy my fetish in ways that I will have to teach you. It will involve different brands of cigarettes, an occasional cigar, and accessories." She regarded me with obvious hesitation. "You can say no, and this is the last I will ever discuss of it with you."
"Ummm—exactly what are we talking about here? I mean, I know that I smoke a little, not a lot. Are you going to make me smoke more often? If so, I don’t know that I can, even if I wanted to. Tom, I need more information before I can decide. Can you tell me a little more about what you have in mind?"
The history between us about our sexual fantasies and acting them out in real life made it relatively easy to have discussions like this. Katie candidly asked for more specifics, and I did not feel strange about giving them to her. "Well, I have an image of how women should smoke, and I’d like to make you the personification of that image. I don’t necessarily need or want you to smoke a lot. Just that when you do, I want you to do it in a glamorous, elegant fashion. I’m willing to instruct you how to do this. But if you agree, you’re going to have to go through with it. Starting with changing your brand." I paused, waiting for a response. Katie just continued to look curiously at me. "When it’s done properly, the act of smoking can be one of the most elegant, erotic things that a woman can do," I resumed. "I want my slave to understand that, and portray it at all times."
"Not to mention that it’ll make you really horny," she replied with a faint smile. "Are you gonna make me smoke menthol? I don’t really like menthol cigarettes."
I shook my head. "No. An elegant woman should smoke an elegant brand, and short Marlboro Lights just won’t do."
"Will you let me safeword out?"
I paused to consider this. I had never tested Katie’s limits anywhere near the point of her safeword; in fact, I’d only seen her use it twice, both during pain scenes with other doms. "Do you honestly think this would be pushing your limits that far?" She said that she didn’t know. "I guess then it comes down to how much I trust you not to use your safeword indiscriminately. In other words, are you willing to really work at doing what I’m going to ask? I don’t want you to safeword at the first sign of something slightly unpleasant, because if that’s going to happen, then I’d rather not start." She asked me if I’d let her think about it tonight, and if we could go out without being "in scene" or discussing it further.
She didn’t smoke at all that night, explaining that she felt really self-conscious, and apologized for it. I told her it was fine; I didn’t need her to smoke to be attractive to me. Dinner and the movie were nice, we returned to the apartment, and almost immediately after turning on the stereo, began to pet on the sofa. We moved to the bedroom in short order from there, and made love passionately. Afterwards, we lay next to each other in the muted light. "Tom, will you make me look stupid or slutty?"
"No, Katie. I can’t promise that you won’t be embarrassed on occasion, but you will not look stupid or slutty. Elegance is never stupid, and I wouldn’t go out with a slut. You know me," I tenderly answered.
"Then… I will do this for you—master," she whispered, sliding along my body. She could feel the arousal and excitement her statement caused in me. Katie silently rearranged herself, and made me moan with the greatest of pleasured desire.
"Yes, master. I’m a little curious, and a little excited about it. I’ve been thinking about it since I woke up today," she answered. "I don’t know what you’ve got in mind. I mean, you told me different brands, and cigars and—I don’t know at all what you mean by accessories, but—I’m looking forward to it, I guess."
We went to a tobacco store, where I selected a carton of More cigarettes, a case with matching lighter, and a box each of Nat Sherman’s Virginia Circles and 164’s. Then I quietly told her to select two cigarette holders. She mouthed "No," but I didn’t respond, indicating that the matter was closed. She studied the display, then blushed furiously as she told the clerk which ones she wanted. I added a 12-inch long black holder to her collection and picked up a box of Tijuana Smalls. We left the shop in silence; she was very anxious to talk about everything we’d bought, but I wasn’t speaking, which meant that she shouldn’t, either. Once we got back home, I said, "I want you to go out and purchase a pack of each of the following cigarettes: Virginia Slims 120’s, Eve 120’s and Max 120’s. We’ll begin your training when you return, slave."
She was somewhat stunned by my abrupt manner, but replied, "Yes, master," in a soft voice. It was very clear that we were in scene now. Despite her curiosity, worry, and uncertainty, she was the submissive, and being submissive turned her on. This was the strongest I’d ever dominated her in private, and she later admitted that it excited her a great deal. While she was gone, I made some preparations, putting a pack of Mores in the case, and putting a Virginia Circle in the 5" black holder. I also threw out the Marlboro Lights. I laid out everything on the coffee table, and waited patiently for her return.
As she walked in, I told her to put the items she purchased onto the coffee table with everything else. I could see that she was surprised by the amount of stuff we had bought. "Sit down, Katie, and then we can begin." As soon as she did, I started with, "Katie, this is the last chance you have to back out completely." She shook her head vigorously. We both took a deep breath, because this was going to take our relationship to new depths of dominance and submission. "Very well, slave. As of this moment, you will never smoke a Marlboro Light again." Her eyes widened in surprise. "As far as commercially available cigarettes are concerned, your options are represented by the four packs you see on the table. However, your primary brand will be Mores. You may smoke the others as a change of pace, unless I tell you otherwise. I like women who smoke long cigarettes. Do you understand?" I could see her swallow and reluctantly nod. "Do you have a question?"
"Ummm… yes. Don’t you think the brown cigarettes make me look like a dyke? Aren’t you worried about what people will say?"
"If I thought they made you look like a dyke, I wouldn’t have ordered you to change to this brand." Softly, I added, "Remember why we’re doing this. These are things that will excite me when you do it, especially if you learn everything I want you to do. I really don’t care what other people will say, Katie. I will have a very sexy, elegant, smoking woman with me, and that will make me desire her all the more, regardless of whether she’s my slave or my lover. You will be a work of art."
Her eyes went starry. "Tom… You just made me wet myself," she whispered, breaking our scene for a moment. "I want to do this—for you. Please—be patient with me?"
"Katie, when have we not been patient with each other?"
She smiled. Bowing her head slightly, she said, "I will smoke Mores from now on, unless you command me otherwise—master." The last word made her tremble involuntarily.
"You may also smoke anything from Nat Sherman as long as it is brown, or any black cigarettes, such as Sobranie Black Russians, which I forgot to buy," I smiled. "I may be your master, but I’m not infallible. And frankly, some of the thoughts going through my mind in the store were very distracting. The cigarette holders… You will use them when I direct you to. I will make you use them in public from time to time, as well." She blushed again. "Anyway, that is the what. The next, and more important thing, is the how." Katie cocked her head.
"It’s one thing to smoke elegant cigarettes, use a holder, or smoke an occasional cigar. However, the rituals associated with smoking including the preparation, light-up, handling, inhale and exhale all contribute to what makes a sexy, elegant smoker. I’m guessing that you can get used to the different kinds of cigarettes easy enough. It’s the act that will require concentration and practice. I can only tell you what I like to see, but you will have to do it. Are you with me so far? Will you do this for me?"
"Yes, master. I will learn how to smoke for you. I will learn to be a sexy smoker. For you," she said, her eyes taking on that sizzling quality when she wants to fuck. "Will this become my master’s favorite foreplay? Will my master desire this smokeplay all the time?"
"Not the only foreplay, my slave. Just another variety," I replied.
"Then teach me." And "smokeplay" was born.