The Advertisement (BDSM)
Playful WF, 23 Y/O, seeking gentle but firm male to dominate me. I'm
5'8, 115 lb. Nice figure and long brown hair. Box 5559
I read the ad once more. Well, what the hell. I picked up the phone
and dialled the number. After listening to the instructions, I started
to work my way through the menus. Then I keyed in the girl's box
number, and upon hearing her ad, I was intrigued by her soft, slightly
husky voice. I was told to leave my message and heard the beep.
Trying hard to keep the nervousness out of my voice, I said that I
noticed her ad and that I would like to know more about her. I told
her my name was Jim, left my e-mail address, said bye for now, and hung
up. Probably just a waste of three minutes at a dollar ninety-five, I
thought, and got ready to go to work.
Things started off hectic that week. Three days later when I checked
my mail, I couldn't think who 'email@example.com' could be. When I
opened the file, I remembered my impulsive phone call and saw that it
may have paid off after all. 'Little1' turned out to be Samantha, and
she gave me a few more details about herself than were in her ad.
Thirty-four, twenty-two, thirty-five was a nice place to start. She
told me she was into bondage, which was good. Almost as a warning, she
stated that she had couple of piercings, but that was fine with me too.
Samantha said she hadn't been able to find someone who could take her
to that special place she'd heard about, and was hoping that her ad in
the paper might land her a ticket there.
I wrote her that I enjoyed visiting exotic places, but had not yet
found a compatible travel companion. I described myself; 6'1, 185.
Casual, outdoorsy, and easy going, mostly. Thirty-five years old. I
didn't want to come on too strong, but I said that I thought I might
know what she wanted. I said I would like to see her, and told her to
pick a mall or coffee shop someplace in town; that I'd meet with her
this Saturday sometime. Her first letter was posted on Tuesday, this
was Wednesday. I didn't want to give this girl too much time to think
At lunchtime Thursday, I checked my mail and smiled to myself. Little1
had taken the hook. She mentioned a shopping mall at the north end of
town that I knew had a cosy food court, nice and public. Smart girl.
She said any time Saturday would be good, so I said I'd be there at two
in the afternoon. I told her I'd meet her in the food court and to tie
her hair in a loose ponytail with a red ribbon, so I would know who she
Even though I kept trying to convince myself this may not lead to
anything much, I nevertheless tossed and turned that night, excited at
meeting with Samantha. Fortunately, I slept in late Saturday; woke
fresh, and rested. I did some work on the computer, then after lunch,
I showered and got ready for my 'date'.
I arrived at the mall at about quarter to two. I wandered around the
big mall for a while, checking out the sights, then went to the food
court and bought a coffee. I was just about to find a seat when I
spotted long brown hair, really long. Past the bum long. Normally
that alone would make my heart flutter, but this hair was tied back in
a loose ponytail with a piece of red ribbon.
I moved through the crowd and sidled up to the girl with the long hair.
"Can I buy you a coffee, Samantha?" I asked.
Samantha turned to face me and I felt the old ticker trip. She had a
silver ring in her right nostril. I smiled. Her face was gorgeous;
thin eyebrows, bright blue eyes, all framed nicely by her thick hair.
"Jim?" she asked.
I took a sip of my coffee to try to hide my excitement.
"You're a very pretty girl," I said. "Jim Bradson. Can I get you
She said coffee would be fine so I got one for her and topped up mine.
The girl looked stunning, and I noticed several guys followed her with
their eyes as we walked across the area. We snagged a table off to the
side, a little away from the bustle of the crowds, and sat down.
Samantha was a real beauty and I told her so again. She was wearing a
loose cotton dress, bare legs, and sandals with thin straps that showed
off her lovely feet. A small silver ring adorned one toe.
We talked a bit about work and stuff, she saying she worked as a teller
in a bank and had taken graphic arts in collage. She was looking for
something, maybe part time, which she could apply her artistic talents
to. I told her I worked as a network consultant and that I also
managed a database at one of the hospitals in the city.
I noticed that the girl seemed to have a hard time looking straight
into my eyes. She would glance up from time to time but mostly kept
her eyes lowered to a spot on my chest, or on my coffee cup. Once, I
made a quip that brought a giggle. She put her hand to her face,
touched her nose ring, then quickly settled again.
"I like your ring," I said.
She blushed a little, then smiled and looked up at me. I saw her eyes
dance mischievously and I knew what she wanted to tell me.
I prompted her. "Your letter said something about a couple of
Her eyes flickered downward.
"Down there?" I asked.
"Two," she answered a little shyly. "In the lips."
"Mmmm," I purred. I felt my cock twitch at the thoughts of her labia
rings squished between her softness and the hard chair seat. It jumped
again as the scene in my mind shifted to my nose pushing in between
"Some men I've dated got turned off when I told them about my rings,"
she stated. "You don't mind?"
"Oh no," I said with a big smile, "I don't mind at all."
I began my pitch. "Samantha, I have a fairly good idea of what you're
looking for. I want to you know that you don't have to worry with me;
I will take things as slowly or as fast as you want. Trust in these
kinds of situations doesn't come easy, and I understand how hard it can
be for you, but I hope to show you that you have nothing to fear, if
you want to take things further. Just seeing you has been a treat for
me. If you'd like, we could go have some dinner and talk some more.
Then after, maybe go back to my place?"
Samantha didn't even hesitate. "O.K," she said.
Thats all for today. Tell me if you like the story.
Responses (at least) and rep (if u like) pls.
I wasn't sure if that was OK to just dinner, or both. I was encouraged
however. Sam, she asked me to call her Sam, said she didn't have a car
and had taken the bus here. We left the mall and walked through the
parking lot to my Jeep. I told her that I do some camping and
canoeing, and the truck suited my needs. Sam told me as I drove how
she loved the great outdoors and enjoyed camping a lot. I talked a
little about the trip I took last fall, of the serenity of the
uncrowded park up north at that time of the year. I drove to a Thai
restaurant near to my house where I eat often when I'm too busy to cook
something, or too lazy to.
Paul greeted us at the door. "Good afternoon, Mr. Bradson, table for
Paul led us to a table by the front window. I caught his sly wink as
he seated my companion, and I grinned at him. I asked Sam if she liked
spicy food and she asked me if they had hot and sour soup here. "Only
the best I've tasted," I said. We settled on the soup, a beef and
basil curry, and some steamed rice.
I have always wondered how girls blew their noses with a big ring in
them. Half way through the spicy soup, Sam had a major case of the
sniffles, but she handled it with grace, subtly wiping off her ring
with the tissue afterwards. I think I embarrassed her by staring, but
I flashed a smile that seemed to make it OK.
I answered Sam's question before she asked it. I'd been married
before - Susan, my high school sweetheart. She was killed in a plane
crash about six years ago. I was angry and bitter for a long time
afterwards. I threw myself into my work to try and fill the empty
hours, taking on more and more projects, attempting to forget. It was
while working on a web project for a women's support group that I began
to find people in much the same situation as myself, people who had
lost someone near and dear to them. I opened contact with a fellow in
Britain who'd had similar experiences, and through a series of long,
personal letters, we were both able to come to grips with what had
I didn't know if it was my story or the spicy food, but Sam had tears
in her eyes.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to bring you down. What my wife
and I had was something special. The kind of relationship that I think
you are seeking, if you know what I mean. I'm not trying to replace
her, well maybe a little, but, well, I'm just saying I do know
something of what women like. Submissive women, I mean."
I didn't think this was going all that well, but Sam took my hand and
looked up at me. A small tear had run down her cheek and was hanging
off her nose ring. She touched it with her finger to wipe it away.
She spoke. "I think you do know what women like me want, Jim. I don't
know why I'm like this. But I do know how I feel when something
happens. I can see you are kind and gentle and that makes me believe I
could trust you. You don't come across all macho like some guys I've
met. But I'm not really looking for gentle. I think I need more than
Thank you to all who visited and replied.
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