First steps, or how it all began
Teachers open the door.
You enter by yourself.
(Chinese proverb)
With a tall glass filled with dark beer, Larisa, sitting on the balcony on an improvised little sofa, quietly howled at the full moon. Tears choked her; she wished tomorrow would never come. Each new day of waiting prolonged her suffering. Self-pity overwhelmed her completely. "Why am I so unhappy, why does this always happen to me, why does this keep happening in my life over and over?" Questions without answers. The one who could and wanted to help her was slowly dying on another continent at that very moment. And she wasn't even allowed to simply be by his side.
Fate had its own plans. "Sweetie, I didn't manage the most important thing in life—to marry my wife..." — this phrase from their last Skype conversation burned her soul again like a red-hot iron. Another wave of almost silent sobs shook her body. Beer spilled from the glass, as if forgotten in her hand. And only the full moon grinned ominously in the dark autumn sky.Skype rang in the room. She knew only two people could be calling her—one, for whom she was now shedding bitter tears, was lying in a clinic at that moment, so it must be Vovich... But she couldn't talk now, she didn't want to see anyone. Skype continued to demand an answer insistently.
Larisa got up, entered the room, put the glass on the table, and pressed the answer button.
— Vovich, I can't right now, leave me alone!
She had met Vovich even before Tim. He was 18 years younger than Larisa. But for a long-distance relationship, that hardly mattered. He was domineering, strong, an absolute possessor. He couldn't even stand the mention of other men. He demanded complete submission and belonging only to him. At first, Larisa was indignant and resisted as best she could. It seemed to her that such an infringement of her independence was unacceptable, but this boy somehow incredibly attracted her; they even dreamed of a real meeting, but overcoming the distance of an entire country was beyond their means.
And over time, she suddenly realized that she experienced incredible pleasure from such treatment. At his first demand, she would come in front of the screen as many times as he required, took photos and made videos to his order.
He was the one who introduced her to the belt. There was just one problem—the belt was in her hands. And, as we know, we tend to pity ourselves. So, although there was spanking, it was very gentle. He could call her at work during the day and order her to take a massager, go to the restroom, and pleasure herself.
He once, punishing her for betrayal—though involuntary, but betrayal—ordered her to spend the whole day at work with an anal plug. And then watched as she took off her soaking wet underwear, as lubricant flowed down her legs. It was precisely that time Larisa came from a spanking for the first time. The edge of the belt landed on her burning, excited clitoris, and she was breathless for a couple of minutes from an incredible orgasm. How he laughed at her then: "I understand everything, but to come from pain! What a bbbitch!"
He always pronounced that word so beautifully and tenderly, slightly stretching the first sound, that for her it sounded like a reward for her efforts.
While communicating with him, Larisa started writing stories based on his plots. It was the most fruitful period in her life. Stories were born one after another, and he kept offering her new plots again and again.
No, they didn't talk about BDSM; no, she wasn't his slave; no, their relationship just developed that way. Unknowingly, Larisa was learning something new, previously unknown to her.
Strong and independent in life, she reveled in this dependence and lack of freedom, and waited for his orders, caught his slightest attention. For the moment when he smiled at her, and little devils started dancing in his usually stern and sad eyes, she was ready to do anything.
But one day, Tim appeared in her life... She presented Vovich with the fact that she would be with Tim, and if he didn't want to accept it, they would have to part ways. Vovich disappeared for a long time... He reappeared suddenly and unexpectedly, but precisely when Larisa finally learned about Tim's terminal illness. Perhaps he simply sensed she was feeling bad. And today he called to see how she was holding up. And saw her tear-stained, swollen face on the screen...
— Okay, I get it. Listen to me! Your Tim isn't dead yet, and you're already mourning him? Pull yourself together and calm down immediately. Otherwise, I'll calm you down differently. Missed the belt? I'll arrange it now.
— Vovich, I'm not in the mood for you, I can't right now, I don't want anything, leave me alone...
— Take the belt, ten for now, then we'll see, — he said evenly and calmly.
— No, I said I don't want to.
— Fifteen. I don't give a damn about your 'don't want to,' I said take the belt, — his cold, piercing gaze went right through her.
Larisa sighed and got up from the sofa. She knew he wouldn't back down anyway, that she would submit anyway, but the number of strokes would keep increasing. So, she wisely decided to stop at fifteen. As she walked to the bedside table to get the belt and vibrator, she suddenly realized it had become hot and wet between her legs. The mere thought of a spanking always aroused her, and now, apparently, instinct kicked in. A couple of minutes later, she returned, put everything on the sofa, and took off her robe.
— Well, I'm waiting, begin. Fifteen...
— If you slack off, I'll add more, — his voice sounded soft and tender, but she knew he wasn't joking, and she raised her hand again.
Now she herself wanted to feel the pain. Physical pain distracts from emotional pain. And now the belt landed with proper force, but—we do pity ourselves. How she wished now that he would take the belt in his own hands, that he could reach her. Her mind slowly grew foggy, thoughts drifted away. Fifteen strokes with her own hand—a trifle, just to warm up. But she honestly did them all. She raised her eyes to the screen and saw his smile.
— Good girl, you really went at it today. Now fuck yourself.
Heated up, her consciousness already floating somewhere, she took the vibrator—it was an incredibly huge, rigid dildo, once battery-operated. Her first sex toy in life. (Specially for .org — ) It had long since darkened with time, the vibrator no longer worked. But its rigidity allowed her to apply proper pressure with her hands on her clitoris to come. Larisa loved it and hated it. But to achieve a quick orgasm, she always used it. An old friend, so to speak... Vovich nicknamed it the 'self-poker.'
Larisa ran her hand over her labia; they were wet, her clitoris was tense, and she desperately wanted to come. Her mind switched off. She began moving the self-poker up and down quickly and confidently, feeling the tension building in her lower abdomen. Yes, there, just a little more. A hot wave washed over her from head to toe, her vaginal muscles convulsed, she sharply squeezed her legs together, pressing the self-poker hard. After a couple of seconds, she spread her legs again and stroked herself. And then, completely unexpectedly for herself, she inserted her fingers inside and came a second time. Her body arched, she cried out and fell silent...
— Bbbitch... — she heard through the fog in her head and opened her eyes.
Vovich was smiling, little devils dancing in his eyes.
— The fingers were impressive. Good girl! Now go to bed and don't cry anymore. I'll call tomorrow.
Larisa sat on the sofa, pulling her knees to her chin and wrapping her arms around them. There were no thoughts in her head. There was emptiness. But a pleasant emptiness. It enveloped her like a soft blanket, lulled and warmed her.
— Thank you, — she whispered almost inaudibly, with just her lips.
The screen went dark. For another couple of minutes, Larisa came to her senses. Then she took a sip of beer from the forgotten glass and, still naked, went out to the balcony. She lit a cigarette. Her hands trembled slightly, but peace and calm reigned in her soul. And the full moon smiled in the dark autumn sky.
Soon Tim was gone; he died on the eve of her birthday. Vovich moved to another city, trying to arrange his own fate. The connection was broken. Larisa started life with a clean slate.
A year passed. And all that time she thought about that very lack of freedom she had, which she suddenly began to miss. The door had been opened for her, she had been allowed to touch something new, all she had to do was step through. And that's what she did, with an open heart, a pure soul, towards the unknown. And the day came when she really knelt down and a Master put a collar on her. Now her life had become different.