Taming a wild one. Pt.1 [MF]

When I first met her I was newly single and still trying to find my feet again, that I stumbled into her without all my wits about me was somewhat cruel, but that’s life. I’m a sucker for strong women, we had an instant rapport and a lot of fun jousting back and forth through text, I couldn’t know what I’d gotten myself into. The best word to describe her was(and still is) fierce, a statuesque 5’10, slender but strong, busty and with a mane of flaming red hair spilling down her back – she owned herself and her sexuality utterly and loved the power that gave her.

On our first date, I had naively intended to take things slow, but after a long kiss and wandering hands, she told me, clear and cold, that if I left that night without fucking her, I was never coming back. She texted me a photo the next day of my raised handprint on her ass saying “I’ll need that again before this fades.” I had passed my test it seemed. Our sex was frequent and feral; teeth, fingernails, sweat and even a little blood were the norm. Every time she met me at the door with a look that dared me to try and break her and I obliged. I’m an athlete and I take pride in my size and stamina as a sexual partner, I was used to women tapping out, needing time to recover, or not being up to the intensity I could bring. It was the norm that I expected but I was always wrong. I had, truly, met my match.

She wasn’t shy about her past, she knew what she liked and she got it. Even with all that control, there were some things that had never come up for her. She had always made her men cum inside her, and while she had enjoyed being the one in control with them she confided how excited she could ride me until her legs gave out, how much she loved not having to hold back anymore without bringing sex to an early end. She said our sex felt like freedom. I will never forget her legs clamping around my waist and her nails clawing my back as I drilled her into the mattress or slamming my climax into her from behind as she moaned filthy encouragement over her shoulder at me. We were quite a pair. This story isn’t about that, giving her what she wanted was the price of admission and that’s not much. This woman had spent her whole life dominating her bedroom and anyone who came into it. One day as we lay in a sweaty afterglow I raised the subject of if she had ever considered giving control to someone else. She laughed and said the idea had never crossed her mind, but given how well we worked together… she might consider it.

I let it simmer for a week without pressing further, but found a nice length of white nylon cord and planned out a scene for her. When I went to visit the following week, she greeted me at the door in a white tank top and black yoga pants, her nipples were straining through the fabric and the band of a purple lace thong rode up over her hip, she kissed me as I squeezed her ass and gave it a firm spank.

“Couch?” I offered.

She smiled and led the way. I sat down and she nestled in under my arm, her hands already sliding up my thighs and massaging the bulge in my pants,

“I want to do something different tonight.” I started,

“Oh?” her voice husky as she’d started drifting into the primal state we were known for.

“Yes, I want you to be mine tonight”

Her hand stopped moving and gave me a firm squeeze, “Yours? How ambitious, how do you plan to accomplish that.”

“You’re going to let me have you.” I said flatly,

“Just like that?” Her voice was incredulous.

“Just. Like. that.” I said, taking her hand and standing her up.

Her eyes were flashing, curious and defiant, “Alright, you have my attention. What now, huh?”

The rope came out of my pocket, “You’re going to put your wrists together, I’m going to tie you, and you’re going to do exactly what I say for the rest of the night.”

“I… what?” She stammered, uneasy for the first time in I could remember.

“You can trust me, you’re safe, put your wrists together please.” I said firmly.

She worked it over in her mind for a moment, her eyes locked to mine. Then, slowly, her shoulders dropped as she let out a long breath and her wrists came together in front of her chest.

I smiled, “Good girl,” and secured them together neatly with a double cuff and to her waist with a loop around her hips. Her eyes were flashing, she worked her wrists against the rope, testing its strength. I gripped the corded handle between them, my free hand plunging down her shirt to cup her breast, the hard nipple pressed into my palm.

“Now now, be good.” I told her firmly, the tip of my thumb now circling her nipple as my lips brushed up her neck. “You’re mine tonight, remember.”

She gave another slow twist at the rope around her wrists, “Can’t blame a girl for trying,”

I took a handful of her hair and tilted her head back and sank my teeth into her neck.

“Yes I can,” I growled, and spanked her, the sharpness of it making her gasp,

“I can do whatever I want, can’t I.”

“…yes.”

“Yes, what?”

There was a long pause, her eyes flashed and she pushed out her chest for a moment, leaning into the challenge to her authority before wordlessly dropping her gaze, though her posture still firmly held its pride.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Shall we continue?”

“Yes, please.”

The night was just beginning.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/anwv9y/taming_a_wild_one_pt1_mf