Let me preface this by saying that the events in this story are part fiction, part fact. The events are based on real life, while the conversations and details have been suitably modified for better narration and in the interest of anonymity.
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I used to work at a big finance firm a few years back. Our company hired many junior undergrads as summer interns who were invited to work on certain projects for a few weeks. Based on their performance and abilities, they would be later extended a full time position (or not). One of the things I used to love about this program was the eagerness and enthusiasm of those young undergrads to please their superiors. I have always had a dominant streak in me, be it inside the bedroom or otherwise. Setting up rules for someone to achieve their goals, training them with the discipline they need to develop in themselves, pushing them out of their comfort zone, are some of the things I have found that I enjoy that naturally come to me. Being a mentor for a small team of these summer interns would mean taking the responsibility to guide them through their project, and cultivating these skills in them. Besides, their willingness to learn was the cherry on the cake.
This one particular year I was supposed to handle a team of 5 interns. 3 young men and 2 young women : David, Tyler, John, Diane and Susan. They were intelligent, smart, and ambitious young students who wanted to make their mark. It was obvious from their interactions with me as well as with each other that these weren’t your typical spoilt and entitled college kids, but people who were willing to work hard and put in the effort to achieve what they wanted.
I must admit, even though I was always professional with them in our meetings and discussions, there was a great deal which I could’ve never openly admitted to any of my colleagues lest it was interpreted in a way that could damage my reputation. However logical the human brain might be in its rational moments, the primal part of it can’t help but feel the emotions that naturally arise. Looking at Susan you would say it was no surprise that I fell for her charms and feminine beauty. A petite brunette, naturally beautiful breasts, a rather supple derriere, she was the object of desire for every male set of eyes on the floor and the object of envy for every female. Smart and sweet. Giggly and friendly. She was a breath of fresh air for anyone she came to interact with. The geeky glasses she used to wear and the way her eyes turned wide when she was confused when I talked about some intricate concept in detail were only some of the little things that added to her delightful presence.
The interns went back to their hometowns to finish their senior year in college at the end of summers. David, Diane and Susan had made the cut. They received their full time position offers a few weeks after the internship ended, and all three of them had accepted it. That evening Susan texted me saying how excited she was to get the position and thanked me for the mentorship and how it wouldn’t have been possible to get there without me. This was the first time that we talked after the internship was over. I replied her back saying all that she achieved was due to her own effort, my role in it was minimal. We texted back and forth for a while that night, before she had to go back to her assignments and we said our goodnights.
Over the next few months, the frequency of texts from Susan increased. Initially it used to be about logistical issues, questions pertaining to the position of new hires in the company, or something related to moving to the new city etc. Over time, it gradually proceeded to more personal happenings from her life, like how she was having a bad day or if the new assignment was giving her a tough time or how Kelly was being a mean bitch to her. Conversations with her were always interesting. She was a curious young mind who wanted to know and experience as much as she could about the world. At the same time, she was still the naive and innocent young one, who was still in the phase of that delightfully carefree adolescence when you had very few responsibilities which burdens so many adults from being fun. We texted about inconsequential things, yet nothing sexual so far. It was my self imposed policy to never initiate a relationship of that nature with anyone in my workplace.
The year passed and the fresh hires were ready to join. Our team had planned of throwing a little house party to welcome them to the new job. It was decided that for the sake of convenience of everyone, the party would be held at my place. My home was the nearest to the office, and that way no one would have to travel much. Sure, I didn’t mind.
That Friday we (4 of my colleagues, the 3 new hires, and I) headed back to my apartment after office. We had ordered food and some drinks and were generally having a good time sharing some of the stories from our first year experiences working at the firm. We were sitting in the living room all this time. About an hour into the stories Susan had the urge to go to the washroom. When she came back, she looked at me with a confused look in her eyes and at first I couldn’t figure out why, nor did I bother to find out more. She took the seat nearest to me and after a few moments, leaned in to whisper something into my ears
“I have so many questions! Why do you have that *inscribed* dog collar in your room, when you have no pets?”
Her emphasis on inscribed made it clear that she had read what the collar said. That was the moment I realized what had just happened. When she went to the guest bathroom, Diane was already using it, and so Susan had went to the one inside my bedroom. Unfortunately, (or fortunately?) I didn’t get the time to clean up my room after a regular play session with one of my subs the previous nights, and Susan had accidentally stumbled upon that collar.
From the tone of her voice, it was clear enough that she was as yet not exposed to this world of kinks. I had to make a crucial decision at that time. I could either brush off the question, or take this as an opportunity to take a curious mind and introduce it to an interesting world of perversions. Her eyes were looking into mine, waiting for an explanation, while I was taking my time to contemplate how best to answer it.
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Part 2
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I looked around the cafe as I sat at my table awaiting the arrival of my fellow colleague, and depending on how things went ahead, a potential playmate. I sipped a glass of water to collect my thoughts, running over my plan for this afternoon in my mind on how best to intrigue Susan’s curiosity. So far her accidentally finding out the collar in my room had made her curious enough to agree seeing me alone. But if I wanted this to end as I had pictured it, I had to play all my cards right and leave nothing to chance. My seat at the far end of the cafe allowed me to have a direct view of the entrance. I let a smile form on my face as the door opened and I saw her enter, looking around before finding me. She waved her hand as she began walking towards me. I stood up to greet her as she came nearer. Here it begins…
*”I have so many questions! Why do you have that inscribed dog collar in your room, when you have no pets?” she asked me. I took a moment to consider how best to answer her question.*
*”I’ll tell you later, text me tonight” was the only short reply I gave. There were too many people around at the time to delve deeper into the topic.*
*Indeed, not much time after the party ended I received a text from her : “Now can you tell me what was all that about?”*
*How much time had it been yet since they left? She could’ve hardly got into her Uber by this time!*
*”Long story. Meet me tomorrow at Andy’s Brews at noon, and I’ll tell you all about it” I sent her back. This was followed by some back and forth with her making up excuses as to how she was busy, and trying to get her answers out of me over text. But I knew that the goal I had in my mind required me to read her reactions, something which wasn’t possible over texts. She eventually gave in to her curiosity and agreed to meet for half an hour.*
She took the seat opposite to me and we ordered our coffees. The first few minutes of our conversation had been about irrelevant things. The things that don’t matter, which everyone involved knows. Yet for the sake of following social protocols they talk about them nonetheless, even though they already have something specific on their minds. Our coffees arrived in a while. We took a couple of sips, before her questions began. Questions that I knew must’ve been burning in her mind since last night.
“So..that collar..interesting piece of decoration you have hidden in your bedroom huh?” she began, trying to start it on a light note.
“Decoration…A curious choice of words.” was all that I offered, enjoying her uneasiness to directly address it. She was getting fidgety with her curiosity.
“Now come on, what was it? You don’t own any pets, of that I am sure. And even if you did, who in their right minds would name them..” she consciously lowered her voice before finishing her sentence “*slut*?”
I could hardly control myself and allowed a chuckle to escape. I saw her throwing a confused, and a slightly annoyed look at my condescending reaction. I composed myself before answering her question.
“Okay, you are right about me owning pets. I don’t. But that collar isn’t mean for *animals*.”
“What do you me…what? I don’t …do you mean..Can you please stop talking in riddles? I can’t get that image out of my head since the time I saw it! Will you just tell me now?” she grew frustrated at the fun I was having at her expense.
“Fair enough” I said, composing myself again. “Before I answer that, what do you know about BDSM?”
Susan was taken by surprise at the counter question.
“Umm…I don’t know much..isn’t that some fetish when people beat up their partners during sex? I never understood what could possibly turn them on about it!” she offered.
I visibly gasped at the view she had in mind of the whole concept.
“And where did you get this idea? 50 shades?” I enquired.
“Yeah…I guess so..” she replied sheepishly, sensing from my reaction that her guess was far from accurate.
“Oh dear…you need to forget all that you think you ‘learned’ about BDSM from that movie” I was well aware how majority of the people had weird misconceptions about the lifestyle, but every single time I talked to someone new about their notions of BDSM, they managed to surprise me.
“Okay, I can tell you all about it if you are interested. I myself have been practicing this lifestyle since quite some time now, and let me begin by saying that what you just described is a rather tiny fraction of BDSM, called sadism and masochism. And even then, its not at all what you think it is.” I noticed that she had put down her coffee on the table and was intently listening. Good, I had her attention.
“BDSM is much more than that. Infact, for the most part it need not even be sexual. Let’s start with the basics. In its most simplified form, there are two partners in a BDSM relationship. One, who is the Dominant type, or Dom, and the other who is a Submissive type, or a Sub. There are many nuances, of course, but for now let’s just talk about this. Are you with me so far?”
She nodded.
“Good. Now, the relationship doesn’t have to be sexual always. There are many aspects of it. Let’s talk about control and power exchange, which have nothing to do with sex. Being a sub in a D/s type dynamic with someone means allowing them to make certain decisions for you. This does not mean that the sub has absolutely no power over her life and has to obey everything that her Dom says. Far from it. Infact, counter-intuitive though it might seem, it is the Sub who has the real power. It is the Sub who *chooses* to obey. The Dom in this dynamic only has as much power over the Sub as the Sub allows him to take. With me so far?”
“What do you mean make decisions? What kind of decisions?” she asked. Clearly, her mind had begun processing all the new information being thrown at her.
“Great question. Like I said, it depends on what the Sub *allows*. It could be something as innocent as choosing what she wears on a particular day. Or it can be something as depraved as controlling when she gets to have an orgasm.” I took a pause to observe her reaction. It was the first time in all the time we had known each other that we were venturing into discussions of such a dark nature. Much of our interactions had been professional, or rather platonic at best. It was important to tread these waters lightly before pulling her in deeper.
Susan’s reaction was interesting. Her eyebrows shot up at the last sentence, but she spoke nothing. Her curiosity urged me through her silence to fill her with more of the knowledge she was so eagerly seeking.
“BDSM isn’t just about sex. It can extend far beyond that in your life. A good Dom who can induce a sense of discipline in his Sub can help her achieve goals in her life that she felt were otherwise unreachable. Often, a Sub allows her Dom to take control of her routines, her schedules, her habits. The Dom may restrict certain activities and enforce certain others. What the Dom provides here is his time, his experience, his guidance, rewards, and punishments. What the Sub gets here is someone to be held accountable to, someone who takes responsibility for her, someone who is willing to invest himself in her improvement. The rewards and punishments that I talk about are often discussed in advance, and they come in fun sexual packages depending on compatible kinks. Again, only as much as the Sub is comfortable with.”
I repeatedly kept emphasizing the part about how beneath the surface, the Sub had plenty of control of everything that was happening. One of the frustrating misconceptions that frequently come up in interactions about BDSM is how ‘powerless’ a Sub is, and that turns a great deal of people away from the lifestyle. I wanted to make sure I got this point across as clearly as possible, ridding Susan’s mind clear of any such notions.
“But then,” she began “how is it different than a conventional mentor-mentee dynamic?”
It was this curiosity in this young woman that made her all the more alluring to me. I subtly checked the wall clock behind her for the time, as if blankly staring in the distance. About an hour had passed since she had arrived for our supposedly half an hour meeting, and not once had she mentioned the time. I knew I was doing something right.
“You are perceptive, and have touched upon a fine nuance.” I replied. “The Dom/Sub dynamic is not really that different, except the sexual aspects of course. You see, people identifying as the Dom type or the Sub type isn’t something that exists only within the framework of BDSM. Quite often people unconsciously follow those roles their entire lives without coming across this lifestyle. The way I see it, BDSM is only a system which allows you to explore something that inherently exists within you in a fun and fulfilling way, while combining it with sexual play to make it all the more exciting. However, these are only the broadest of dynamics. As you explore the finer nuances, you’ll get to know more and more about the type of person you are, the type of things you like, and more importantly the characteristics you would want in a partner, with whom you’ll feel comfortable in any relationship. Mentally, physically, and sexually. But that is a topic of discussion for another time. You’ve got plenty of information to process for a single day.”
I sipped the rest of my coffee, watching her face as a hundred different questions and emotions created turbulence in her thoughts. She was blankly staring at her coffee, turning her fingers around the cup, while her mind was deeply engrossed in an entirely different world. After a while, she spoke
“You still haven’t told me anything about that collar”
I simply smirked.
“You’ve heard enough for today. Maybe next time.”
Her curiosity was a wild beast, one that could not be tamed. Nor did I want to. It was this curiosity indeed which would make her keep coming back to me, of that I was sure.
I had done what I could to turn the little sparks of her curiosity into flames; now I had to maintain patience and let time fan those flames into a fire.
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Part 3
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We parted our ways after the coffee. I could tell she wasn’t completely satisfied with the meeting; after all she never got the answer for the one thing she came over for. But what she did get was plenty of questions, in her mind. Just like I had planned.
Over the next few days however, things seemed like they went back to normal. Susan didn’t follow up with the discussion we had at the cafe, and acted as if we never had that talk. She went back to being her former, professional self. Even the frequency of her platonic, once regular texts decreased. It was a very real possibility that she might have been weirded out by the kink. In that case all I could do was stop having any thoughts about her ending up as my playmate.
Things went on like this for about a couple more weeks. Regular office related conversations, if any, and nothing else. Earlier she used to stop by my desk randomly when she got bored with work. These short interruptions were always a pleasant distraction for me as well. We would talk for a few minutes till we were both charged up again, and then go back to work.
Then one day, about three weeks after her finding out the collar in my room, Susan stopped by my desk. Apparently she wanted to clear a technical doubt about the project she was working on. I explained to her the thing she was struggling with, and after seeing what looked like satisfaction in her face, I shifted my attention back to my work. But she stood around by my desk, nervously tapping her fingers on her notepad.
“Uhh…” she began
“About that *guidance* thing from our discussion earlier…”
My fingers stopped typing. I turned my face to look at her. She had caught my full attention. She averted my gaze as I raised my eyebrows in a questioning glance.
“Can we talk a little bit more about that?” she requested “Not here, not now. Maybe someplace in private?”
*Curiosity indeed kills the cat*
“Sure” I offered. “How about dinner tonight after work?”
Her lips shaped up in an imperceptible and silent smile, as if conveying her gratitude.
“Yes, that works!” she gleefully accepted. What a remarkable difference between the woman standing next to me now and the woman from 3 weeks ago who hardly had half an hour. The flames of curiosity were indeed flaring out.
—-
“Thank you for meeting with me again!” Susan said as our orders were placed on the table. I briefly acknowledged it with a smile.
“So, what brings you here tonight?” I asked
“I’ve been thinking about our discussion from that day. A lot. And I’ve been reading up a great deal about it on online forums. Honestly, it felt scary and intimidating at first, but the way you described it last time felt much more calming, and much more…safe!” My decision to take it slow had indeed paid off.
“I am getting really curious about this whole thing. I want to try it out and experience it for myself. But the more I read about people’s experiences online, the more it felt like there were far more bad Doms than good ones out there. But you…you put my mind so much at ease that day that I didn’t even realize it! I was completely comfortable during the time I was with you. I only felt scared when I was reading about it alone.”
“You are most generous to make that assessment of me. BDSM can be scary, yes, and your first time experiences can make or break your decision to choose this as a lifestyle. You are completely justified in feeling that way. Infact, a healthy bit of skepticism is beneficial to keep yourself alert if the person you’re submitting to is acting to fulfill his own selfish desires, or is he actively trying to make your experience better.”
“I was wondering…” she hesitated in completing the sentence. In the back of my mind I could guess what she was wondering, but I let her finish her sentence on her own accord
“I was wondering if…you would do this with me” she said eventually.
“What makes you choose me?”
“Well…you seem to be a really caring kind of guy, and like I said, you make me feel so comfortable about it. I don’t know if I could even talk about such dark fantasies with anyone else. But you already have experience in this it seems and I feel that I could learn a lot from you!” The will to learn. How pleasing these words were!
The seeds that I had planted in her mind had been growing under the nourishment of her curiosity.
We discussed what were her expectations from this arrangement. She asked questions about the kind of rules I would set up for her, about the rewards and punishments I would give to her. I asked questions about how willingly she was going to devote herself, and what level of control over her life was she ready to give up. We talked about our preferred kinks, likes, dislikes and common sexual fantasies. About a couple hours later, dinner was finished and our mental appetites were full as well. I agreed to take her under my wing.
“We begin your training this weekend, when we will have our first play session.” I looked into her eyes as she got visibly excited like a little girl who had just heard she was going to Disneyland.
“Dress pretty!”
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The story is long and I haven’t finished writing it all out yet. I’ll be posting the rest soon.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/9y7dhw/mild_initiation_of_a_young_girl_to_the_bdsm