Bdsm Virgin

Part 1.5

So, I searched for other sites with information. I found plenty of well-meaning blogs and websites dedicated to Dom/Sub relationships, but none that gave me the why. And so, I did what any well respecting feminist writer would do.

I joined FetLife with a different name to protect my identity, but I was honest about my intention there. I was looking for people to interview – male Doms and female Subs – that were willing to open my eyes to their world.

Most answers were the usual, "Come to me. I'll show you all you need to know." Yeah, right! After two days, I was ready to just give up and go to Grace to decline the article – something that would have been the death of my career.

Then I heard a "pop" sound on my computer telling me I had a message. There, a message from a male Dom from FetLife. It read: "Saw your profile. Read your questions. Interested in sitting down and letting you interview me. Male dominant without a female submissive, but I am not looking for anyone nor do I wish to show you the ropes, so to speak. Merely talk." It was signed, TheRealDeal.

I admit, my heart jumped, and my hands were shaking as I replied to TheRealDeal.

"Well, RealDeal, thank you for answering. Just name the place and time, and I will be there."

Within minutes, he answered, "But I thought you are a feminist. Are you sure you want /me/ to name it? Lol!"

Ah, a sense of humor. Fine, then.

"RealDeal, I'm flexible. Alright, how about Starbucks on the corner of 5th at 4pm this afternoon?"

Pop! "I'll be there. I'll be wearing a navy t-shirt and jeans. I'll wait for you outside. How will I know you?"

"Well, I'll be wearing black jeans, a white shirt, and gray jacket. Oh, I have long dark brunette hair. It's up today."

Pop! "See ya there! You'll recognize me with the Raiders ball cap on."

***

I checked my watch. 2:00 pm. My stomach began to gurgle, but I couldn't tell if it was from hunger or just plain nervousness. There was something that was speaking to me about this guy. I felt like a teenage schoolgirl meeting the high school jock for the first time. Stop it, Chance! This is not you, at all!

3:30 pm, finally! I had used the time to jot down questions I hoped seemed intelligent and educated about BDSM and D/s relationships. Gathering my bags and pens and laptop, I heard a Pop! and looked quickly.

"Letting you know, I am on my way." It was him! RealDeal! My stomach flipped upside down. My mind imagined what he looked like. Jamie Dornan? Henry Cavill? Oh, Lord! Stop it! This is ridiculous!

I pulled into the Starbucks parking lot, and saw an incredibly handsome man sitting outside. Jeans and a navy t-shirt. God! Is that him? RealDeal?

A quick look in my mirror, and I opened my door. Just as I turned around, a man with a Raiders ball-cap was walking straight toward me. Not the guy that was seated, but this guy was striding confidently toward me and exuded sex.

He put out his hand toward me. "May I help?"

"RealDeal?" I asked. My mouth went dry. This man wasn't incredibly handsome, but he was ruggedly sexy. Yes, I know, ruggedly sexy? That's the only way I can describe him. Dark wavy hair, tall, mid-weight, brown eyes, deep baritone voice, chiseled features with laugh lines around his eyes, and an easy smile. He was not what I expected at all.

He laughed, "RealDeal? Oh, right, my anonymous name. Hi, I'm Jeff Slater. And you?"

I know my hand was shaking, but I placed it in his. Wow! His hand completely enveloped mine!

"Ummm .... Hi. I'm Chance Ames." I waited for the usual pun, but instead he gazed at me.

"Why are your hands shaking? I won't bite – hard." He guffawed and gently guided me toward Starbucks. It seemed so easy to let him guide me into the coffee shop and let him order me a café latte – skinny. I didn't even tell him what I wanted – he just seemed to know.

"So, what do you want to know, Chance? All the sordid little details, or what drew me into BDSM?"

Oh, crap! I forgot my questions! I stuttered a response, "Whatever you want to tell me." What? Get hold of yourself, Chance. For God's sake, you eat men alive!

He reached out and took my hands in his. "It's ok, you know. I have read your work. As a matter of fact, I'm a big fan. I should be the one shaking, not you. How about if I just tell you a little about what draws me to BDSM for starters?"

Releasing my hands from his I reached inside my bag and pulled my iPad out to take notes. I looked at him realizing that this was no game or fantasy for him. He is an honest to goodness Dominant Male in the BDSM lifestyle and willing to share it openly with me. "May I use your name? Jeff Slater?"

"I would prefer not, strictly because I am not sure I want the world to see me as a Christian Grey." He laughed. "Why don't you use the name Bill Smith? Generic enough, don't you think?"

The afternoon went into evening. He told his story and made me feel as if I was the only person alive. His cell phone buzzed and pinged, but he only looked and turned it to silent – not once answering or acknowledging a message.

Finally, around 7:00pm, he stopped mid-sentence. "Chance, you must be hungry. Let me buy you dinner? Nothing fancy, but something."

Accustomed to taking care of myself, I opened my mouth to say so, but all that came out was, "Sure!"

I have to say that I was so enthralled by him and found myself drawn to his masculinity more than any man I had ever met. And hearing his story and why he was in the lifestyle only made him more appealing.