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Message-ID: <38182asstr$1031397002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Jonothon Darksong <jdarksong@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} [sapphic] An Open-minded Discussion
Date: Sat,  7 Sep 2002 07:10:02 -0400
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Greetings.

I have decided to submit a contribution for each catergory. Here
is submission number 1.

J. Darksong

__________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!?
Yahoo! Health - Feel better, live better http://health.yahoo.com

<1st attachment, "sappho1.txt" begin>

Sapphic Festival Entry #1 ---- D: 'First Time' Story

Story: An Open-minded Discussion by J. Darksong


  At the time, I don't suppose I'd really thought about it much.
You know, the whole 'other side' of sexuality. I mean, yeah, I
had girl friends who were openly gay, and it didn't bother me. It
just wasn't for me. Personally, I couldn't see the point of it.
For me, cock was 'king'. Once you've been well and thoroughly
fucked by a strapping young man with a ten-inch wang, you kinda
think to yourself, 'Life can't get much better than this.' Just
goes to show how you can't really say you love or hate something
if you've never experienced it before.

  I was between boyfriends when Sharon in our accounting
department approached me, asking me if I wanted to check out the
club scene after work. It was the weekend, and I had nothing else
planned, so I said fine, and grabbed my purse. I'd always liked
Sharon; we'd talked a few times in the hallways and at the water
cooler, and while not best friends, we'd become at least friends.
I knew she was a lesbian, but again, I saw her only as a cool
girl, an okay person to talk to, and a member of the work staff.

  When we entered 'Altered States', it took me several moments to
realize what type of bar it was. Realization hit me like a slap
in the face, and I stood there, shocked, while woman of all
colors, races, and varieties danced, mingled, and openly kissed
one another. Sharon saw my stunned reaction, grabbed our drinks
from the bar, and led me over to a private booth.

  "First time in a gay nightclub?" she asked, looking amused. My
cheeks burned as I sputtered out a reply.

  "Sharon," I said in a low voice, "when you invited me to go
with you to a club after work, this was not exactly what I had in
mind."

  She laughed. "Sorry. It's my fault. Everyone at work knows
about me, knows how I am, and most of them avoid me like the
plague. It's the year 2000, the new millennium, but among some of
the older generation, I'm still considered taboo. But you, you're
different. You talk with me, you smile, and laugh at my jokes,
seem to really like me. I thought... well, I kind of hoped...
well..."

  I blinked. "That I was gay?" I said, a bit louder than I meant.
Seeing her expression, I quickly rephrased. "Sorry, I didn't mean
to react like that. It's just, you, all this, it caught me off
guard." I sighed. "Sharon, I think of you as a friend, a really
good friend, but I don't have those feelings for you. I'm sorry.
I guess I'm just not wired that way."

  Sharon sat there quietly for a moment, sipping her rum and
coke, then looked me square in the eye. "How do you know you're
not... 'wired' that way, Beth? Have you ever even considered the
idea, the possibility?"

  I shook my head. "No, not ever. I like cock, Sharon. I always
have. It works for me."

  Sharon laughed again, sipping more of her drink. "You know
Beth, I graduated with a degree is Psychology, so I know a few
things about the human mind. I happen to think that most women
ARE gay to some extent, but most have just been taught by society
to follow the status quo. I bet if you actually tried sex with
another woman, you'd love it so much you'd never want to have sex
with a man again."

  Okay. I thought she was full of shit. She was obviously
attracted to me, and was no doubt trying to talk me into a
one-night stand, a little 'experiment' to see whether or not I'd
like the experience. The whole thing about knowing psychology,
that 'most women are gay to some extent' was pure bull. I was
confident and secure in my sexuality, and no amount of debate was
going to change my mind. I simply wasn't interested.

  I smiled at her, and drank deeply from my Tom Collins. "I'm
just not interested, Sharon. It's an interesting theory, but I
guess I'll never find out whether or not it's true."

  She didn't take the hint, however. "You know, I never thought
of you as being close-minded, Beth," she persisted a moment
later. She moved across from me. "You've always struck me as a
free-thinking, very open-minded person. I want you to do
something for me. Look me square in the eyes, Beth, and tell me
that you've never thought about what it would be like, not even
once."

  I was starting to get pissed. She just wouldn't let it drop.
"Sharon, this is ridiculous! I came with you to have a nice time
and---"

  "Beth, please!" she said loudly, cutting off my protest. Her
green eyes focused in on mine like a laser. "Just look into my
eyes, Beth, stare straight into my eyes, and tell me the truth:
Have you or have you not ever thought about what it would be like
to have sex with another woman before?"

  I sat there, stunned, feeling totally off-balance. Sharon was
deadly serious. Her eyes seemed to bore into me as I stared into
them, finding that vibrant green overwhelming, seemingly
penetrating my deepest defenses, stripping me bare, all the way
to my soul. She demanded an answer from me, and I felt powerless
to lie to her.

  "Yes."

  I had thought about it once, true enough. I hadn't found the
idea tempting or enticing in any way. I'd masturbated many times
in my life, and frequently used a vibrator when I wasn't dating,
so I'd wondered, briefly, about what it was like for two women
together. But before I could explain all this to Sharon, she
began to speak again.

  "You see? I was right. You have, at least in some small way,
thought about it. And that's good, that's natural. That shows
that you're an open-minded individual, someone who thinks about
and considers the options before making a decision. You DO
consider yourself open-minded, don't you, Beth?"

  I thought about it briefly. It was obvious. After all, I had
friends like Sharon, didn't I? I wasn't close-minded, stubborn,
set in my ways. I wasn't the type of person to try something new
just for the hell of it, but I wasn't a prude either.

  "Yes," I answered. "I'm open-minded. I..."

  "Good, good," Sharon said, taking control of the conversation
again. Her eyes blinked for a moment, only to stare back into
mine again, recapturing my gaze with that same intensity as
before. "Since you're a very open-minded woman, Beth, you should
have no problem reasoning out a few things for me then. Tell me,
do you think I am an attractive woman?"

  Again, the answer was obvious. "Yes," I said, immediately.
"You're gorgeous."

  "An interesting choice of words, Beth," Sharon remarked. "You
think I'm GORGEOUS. That means, you have an opinion about me,
that in your way of thinking, I'm attractive, pretty, beautiful,
and in your own words, gorgeous. You think I'm attractive. You
find me to be an attractive woman. In other words, you are
attracted to me."

  The realization hit me like a splash of cold water. Attracted
to Sharon? No. Not possible. Unthinkable. I tried to shake my
head. "No... no. You're wrong. You're... twisting things around.
I like men."

  "No, Beth," Sharon purred softly. "Not twisting your words...
UNtwistng your thoughts. Think about it. You say you love men.
You've had lots and lots of men, had sex with them. And yet, you
haven't stuck with ANY of them. You date them for a while, then
decide that things aren't working out, or he's not right for you,
or that you're just not ready to give what he's asking in the
relationship. In the end its always the same: you leave them, and
search for someone else, someone to fill the void, the NEED you
feel, that the last man was unable to fill."

  Sharon's words filled my head, as I began to think back over
all my previous failed relationships. Some of the men had been
great, damn near perfect, and yet something had been off with
each one. My head seemed to throb with her words, and the
realization that I was on the verge of truly understanding
myself. I stared deeper into those deep green eyes, seeking the
answers Sharon was only too happy to supply.

  "I think what a part of you, way down deep, knew all along what
it is you sought. You want more than just sex, Beth. Sex is only
physical pleasure." Her hand slid under the table, caressing my
silk encased leg, sending goose bumps across my flesh. "What
you've been seeking, the thing you've been missing, Beth, is more
spiritual in nature." Her hand circled my thigh, causing me to
whimper, making my sex begin to moisten. "You seek someone who
can fill you with pleasure, joy, happiness, contentment, and
security all at once. You want someone who can fill that void in
your life, fill you to the brim, and beyond, until the sheer
pleasure within is overflowing."

  Her hand slid underneath my skirt, underneath my panties,
teasing my soft curly mound, sending pleasure shooting through my
body. I felt torn; on the one hand I knew what she was doing,
that she had me under some kind of spell, that she was trying to
seduce me, but on the other hand, her words made so much sense,
and her hands, her slim, soft fingers, were touching me in all
the right places, making me feel things I had never felt before
in my entire life.

  "Now, Beth," Sharon cooed into my ear softly, "I want you put
it all together for me. You admit you've thought about having sex
with women before. You find me attractive, beautiful, and
gorgeous. You have been with many men, had sex with them, even
enjoyed it, but still couldn't find true satisfaction with them.
You recognize that you seek someone insightful, someone who knows
you, knows what you want and need, and can give it to you."
Sharon's fingers, slick with my juices, had now reached my clit,
but they teased, circling along the very edge, just enough to
push my arousal higher but not enough to force that final release
I desperately needed.

  "What you NEED, Beth," Sharon declared, eyes alight with lust,
"is a woman. A WOMAN, Beth. Only a woman can give you that which
you desire, that which you've wanted all your life but never
realized... until now. You want a woman to control you, Beth, to
love you, to FUCK you, and make you feel complete. And I want you
to say it, Beth, say it with feeling, with the belief infused
into every part of your being. SAY IT, Beth!!"

  "I NEED YOU!!" I cried, loudly, heedless of the crowds staring,
of the people at all, seeing only Sharon's beautiful, loving
green eyes, feeling only a deep seeded need, so deep and
terrible, a virtual canyon within me, begging to be filled, and
realizing that this woman, this sexy, alluring creature before
me, whom I'd secretly lusted for ever since we'd first met, was
the only one who could fill that need. "I NEED YOU SHARON!" I
cried again, opening myself fully to her. My heartfelt
declaration endured me to her, and she deigned it time to seal
the matter. One finger rubbed my sensitive bud, rubbed again,
while those other clever, learned, slender fingers slide deep
into my hole, pumping in and out of my spasaming cunt.

  The orgasm, when it came, rocked me to my foundation. My mind
shattered into tiny little pieces; my eyes were wide open,
staring up at the ceiling as my back arched, but all I could see
were Sharon's green eyes. My entire soul seemed to burst from my
chest, surging, too full to be contained by my physical shell any
longer. My awareness was reduced to only one point in space: the
contact of my body with Sharon, the source of my pleasure, the
source of my fulfillment.

  That night, we left the club and returned back to her
apartment. Sharon, or 'Mistress' as I call her in private, taught
me firsthand the joys of Sapphic bliss. She had a wide range of
fetishes--- foot worship, tickling, spanking, bondage, hosiery,
role play--- and I accommodated her in all of them. We even
discovered a fetish I possessed, which I'd never even known.
Breast worship. You can't imagine all the wonderful and creative
ways to pleasure a woman's mammaries. At last count we'd tried
two hundred and seventy one.

  I now lead a more or less normal life. We both still work
together at the company, and aside from the rare dalliance in the
broom closet at lunchtime, our behavior at work is purely
professional. After work, however, Mistress and her sex slave,
namely moí , explore our blossoming love to its fullest. I've
given up men completely, perfectly happy in my lesbian
relationship.

  I realized what Mistress had done to me in the club that night,
that she had hypnotized me, and virtually remade me into a
completely new person. I can look back over my life clearly, and
see the changes in myself. She's never bothered to deny it,
either. But am I upset? Not in the slightest. The fact is, she
didn't change a single thing in my head, didn't reprogram me into
a mindless sex slave--- despite my fascination and love of being
submissive to her--- and didn't alter my memories or my
personality. All she did was open my mind to the possibility of
another way, another kind of existence, and let the pleasure do
the rest. Everything else was already inside me, being repressed
by my strict way of thinking.

  Oh well, gotta go. Mistress is taking me back to 'Altered
States' again tonight. We're meeting a friend of ours from work
later. Cindy. She's straighter than an arrow, but tolerant of
(Mistress) Sharon's and my lifestyle. She's a nice enough girl,
but a little close-minded about some things. Still, if anyone can
open her mind, Mistress can.

((END.))

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