Vanilla, page 1
This story is a thank you to my fans. I have some amazingly supportive fans who continue to stick by me and read all my stories. I never dreamed people would be so interested in reading my books and I am still blown away that people take the time to purchase and read them. The vast majority of my stories are from my imagination but this one is different. I often get asked how I discovered BDSM and this is my story. I hope to expand on it one day but this is the tale of my first experience of D/s. Names/locales have been changed but the essence is there. I hope you enjoy it!
Copyright 2013 ©J. A. Bailey
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organisations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
“Addy! Please tell me you'll come with me. It might do you some good to get out and meet new people, not to mention break out of that vanilla shell of yours...”
“Vanilla? Now you're comparing me to a flavouring?”
“NO! Come on, you know what I mean. You've been in what, four relationships and had maybe half a dozen total sexual partners?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
This was my life. Back and forth, side to side, with my best friend Loren. She was what I like to call a sexual deviant. Getting involved with all sorts of things I would never dream of: suspension, latex, breath play, she even told me one instance where her partner shoved his entire fist… never mind, I don't even want to think about that.
We'd been friends since we were kids. And when we entered high school, she was the first one of us to lose their virginity. She bragged around school later that she had slept with an older guy, a real sports fanatic, and that it didn't really hurt because he was small (from the steroids). I knew otherwise, however, because the girl had been masturbating since she was eleven and used her curling iron regularly.
I was, of course, the last it seemed in my graduating class. It's not like I was religious or anything, or really thought there was a value to my virginity, I just didn't want to sleep with anyone. Love or not, I wanted it to be right, and it be the right time and be fully ready for the experience.
That experience came quickly after I started college. Bryan was my first and it seemed we were on the right track. We’d been dating for two months and when I was ready he was very encouraging and gentle, not like most experienced boys it seemed with girls. And, he actually stuck around afterwards, something that shocked me.
We dated for three months after that. However, during one of our times together, something happened that freaked him out, to the point he didn’t want to see me again. (WTH happened?) I was devastated and heartbroken. While I wouldn’t say I was in love with him, I had developed feelings for him, but I quickly realized that I was young and shouldn’t let one guy bring me down. Besides which, there had always been something missing during our times together. I put it down to our inexperience.
And here we are today, my best friend asking me to go to a fetish ball with her. She was right though; I did need to get out and date new people. Give up the dating sites and bar and actually meet someone interesting, maybe even another newcomer that really wasn’t into such things and was coerced to go as well.
Loren got down on her knees, clasping her hands in front of her in prayer. “Pretty, please?”
I sighed. Defeated.
She got up and jumped for joy, pulling me in for one of those deep side to side hugs. “This is going to be so much fun! I can’t wait to dress you and give you a makeover!”
I held up my hands. “Whoa, whoa, wait a second. I didn’t agree to that. Can’t I just wear a pair of high heels, jeans and like a black cut up shirt?”
“You’re joking, right?”
“No, I’m really not.” What did you wear to a fetish ball anyway? I pictured myself in a gimp suit and grimaced.
“You have to dress the part. Either as a slave or as a Dominant.”
“And what if I want neither?” I certainly couldn’t picture myself as a Dom. Men thought me as quite outspoken and confident but inside… sometimes I wondered who I really was? But did that mean I’d have to be a slave? The thought of being at someone else command made me shudder. It had a slightly odd effect on me too though, a slight twisting in my stomach.
“Well, we’ll figure something out.”
A week later I was told by Loren to meet her at a store called Liquid Desires. I arrived a good fifteen minutes ahead of time and started to look around the store. A few things caught my eye, but nothing really wowed me in my perusal.
Loren soon got there and drilled me on what I saw and what I liked. She quickly buzzed around the store finding me this and that to try on. I tried on everything: fishnet body stockings, skin tight latex dresses and sexy maids’ outfits. What I decided to get, however, was something that could reflect me in a setting I was walking into.
I settled on a leather skirt that touched several inches above my knees and hugged my curves, opaque black tights that attached to a garter belt under my skirt and a deep emerald green corset that highlighted my hips and ample breasts.
Once those purchases were made, Loren insisted I update my straight locks and dye my hair to highlight my eyes and creamy complexion. I only agreed because she was overly excited and was willing to pay for it. She took me to her favourite salon and my long fair hair was lightened to a golden blonde and short layers at the front framed my face.
The following weekend was my crowning moment. Loren came over at four in the afternoon to start getting ready. I showered first so she could dry my hair and set it hot curlers. Once she was out and had her hair set, she helped me don my clothing, cinching the corset tighter than it had been at the store.
My make-up was next. My skin for the most part was blemish free, so a slight layer of concealer for my eyes and powder was all that was needed there. My eyes she took her time on. A white shadow called “bone” was applied, followed by a green that matched my corset and made my blue eyes pop. A heavy liner and mascara followed, so much that I barely recognized the girl in the mirror, but even I had to admit I looked good.
She donned similar undergarments to mine, but her dress was a black, shiny latex number that was cut so low I was sure her breasts would fall out.
The time grew closer, and we left my apartment for the venue. The entire drive there, Loren was giving me the rundown on what and what not to do. “If someone asks you into the backroom, don’t go with them. More than likely they’re going to try and give you some drugs and take advantage of you. Someone you might want to consider is someone who will take you to the side of the room, get to know you and what you’re looking for, and if you think you two might be a good match they might invite you out to dinner and then back to their place.”
I gulped, wondering what on Earth I had let myself in for. The drill lasted until we got there. As we walked through the hotel and to the ballrooms, she produced the tickets from her purse, and once we were in she handed over her purse to the check-in. “The girls here drink free, so if you want to give them your purse, you won’t have to worry about someone taking it.”
I decided to keep my purse with me just in case I got overwhelmed and needed to leave quickly. Once we were in, I took notice of everything that was presented to me.
The ballroom was darkly lit; blue and red lights, along with strobe lights danced across th
“The men in the nicer attire are looking for something a little more low key. A lot of them hold high rankings in businesses and the likes. If one of them approaches you, you might do yourself some good and chat with them.”
“All right. What if someone comes up to you and you’re not interested?”
“You tell them so, and they have to respect it. If they’re persistent, then they run the risk of being asked to leave. If they’re asked to leave, then they pretty much get written off by potential partners. Word travels fast.”
My nerves dissipated at this. It wasn’t the sort of sordid affair I’d expect. Heck, half the men looked pretty respectable. Maybe I would meet someone interesting. The night went on, and Loren stayed with me for a little while, introducing me to her friends and a couple of the people she played puppet to in the past. Around midnight, however, I could tell she was getting antsy to go off and hang out with some new partners and I set her free. She told me that if I wanted to go I could, she could find a way home. I decided to hang around for a little bit longer, while I wasn’t talking with anyone, nor had interest, the music and performers were entertaining and I still had a drink to finish.
I milled about the crowds for a little while, watching a guy on stilts juggle flaming bowling pins, a girl with a light up hoop spin tricks that were impressive, and several other acts. I turned to head back to the side of the room and that’s when it happened. My gaze immediately locked on a guy across the room. His dark hair was cut and combed expertly, almost as if he went to salon just for this occasion. It took him a moment, but he too found my eyes. He took a sip of his drink and after what looked to be a full body scan beckoned me over with a flick of his head.
With an obviously toned body and interesting features, he was gorgeous. I would’ve been stupid had I not gone.
Weaving in and out of the crowd, I finally reached my destination; the tension, whether good or bad I didn’t know, hung heavy in the air between us. He broke it by leaning down and saying, “Hi, my name is Derek. May I have the pleasure of knowing yours?”
I didn’t get quite as close but his formal turn of phrase interested me. “Addy,” I spoke loudly over the music and crowd.
“Is that short for something?”
“I much prefer Adeline, if you don’t mind.”
I liked the way my name rolled off his tongue. “I don’t mind it at all. Most people call me Addy because Adeline is such a mouthful.”
“Well, I like mouthfuls.” He emphasized the point by looking down at my chest, which made my face hot. “How are you enjoying yourself?”
“I’m enjoying myself quite a bit.” He obviously heard the surprise in my voice. “This is my first time at one of these events,” I explained, “and I actually came because my friends insisted I get out and mingle with new people.”
“Well, to say the least, I’m rather glad you did come out.”
I studied him for a moment, inhaling the fresh scent of his cologne. Flutters of anticipation beat in my stomach. “I am too, to be honest.”
The friendly banter continued for some time; he even went up to the bar and grabbed me another coconut rum drink. He took me further to the side of the room, to where the leather couches were, and we sat down.
“So, may I ask you what you’re into?”
“Well, I like to read, and go and see movies—”
“I don’t mean like that, I meant fetishes.”
“Oh, uh...honestly, I’m not too sure myself. It’s not something that’s ever come up with my partners before. I believe my friend called me ‘vanilla’?” My cheeks warmed as he smiled knowingly.
“I see. Anything you’ve ever thought about?”
“Not really. I can say I do like to be stimulated and touched. The nape of my neck is probably the most sensitive part of my body save for the obvious parts.”
His grin expanded. “That is potentially very dangerous information you just freely gave up, Adeline.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just sat there in silence looking at him, my face heating with every moment.
Finally, he leaned in toward me. “I want to take you out, I believe. Perhaps to dinner and a show of your choosing?”
I smiled, excitement streaming through me. “I believe I would like that. But, I couldn’t choose the show, if you’re going to show me hospitality, you can be the one to choose. I will say, I like comedies and musicals, you can go from there.”
We exchanged numbers and parted ways for the night around three in the morning. The following day we figured out plans for dinner and show for that weekend. When the weekend came, he took me to dinner at a French bistro, and then to see the newest comedy production downtown.
“I have to say, I rather enjoyed your company tonight,” he told me. “It’s really not too often I find someone up to my standards at those kinds of events.”
I wondered at his turn of phrase. A little flutter of pride sat in my chest at the thought of being up to his standard. “I really wasn’t expecting or really looking for anybody.”
We strolled along the sidewalk back towards city centre; it being a Saturday night a lot of couples were out and about taking in the sights and street performers. We weren’t in a hurry and we spent quite a while down there.
We found a little cafe that had a live jazz band playing and we sat down to listen to them play while enjoying a glass of wine. I kept feeling his dark gaze on me, and during one such time I turned my head to look at him, a small smile playing on my lips. “What?” I asked.
“I want you to come home with me tonight,” he said, almost inaudible over the band.
My smile faded, not from fear of going to his place, but at what might happen to me, what I might awaken inside of me. My brain decided for me before I could even think about it. “All right, sounds good. No more wine though after this glass.”
The ride back to his house was a quiet one. He lived in a top floor condo a little ways outside of town, in a neighbourhood clearly marketed for the wealthy. I hadn’t asked what he did for a living and it wasn’t something he brought up with me, but seeing his place now made me question exactly what he did.
He paid the cab and had me walk in front of him as we crossed the short distance to his front door. Stepping behind me he put in a code for the automatic door. We walked through the marble lined receiving area and to an elevator to the left of the entrance. He input his code once again and we entered the elevator that took us to the top floor and deposited us in his living room.
“Here, let me take your coat,” he said as his hands wrapped around the collar of my jacket. I undid it and let the weight fall into his hands.
Derek ushered me into his room, a warm palm against my back. The heat steadied my nerves for the moment. The room was large, and felt even more so because of the bareness of it. Two walls were glass that overlooked the city in a breath-taking picturesque view; the other two were white and bare except for one small photo frame containing a black and white picture of a cliff with water breaking over it. This was a room that was set up for one purpose only, and as I finished scanning the room, my eyes were drawn to the large bed that I had avoided in my initial observations.
While I was accustomed to sleeping on a full sized bed, I was no stranger to queens and kings, however, this looked far larger than any other king I had ever seen. “The bed...what size it?”
“They call it the Caesar. You can fit ten people on it if you wanted to. The frame is custom as well.”
I took the time to look at the metal four poster bed, and what appeared to be various straps and swings hanging off of it and through it. Down the posts there appeared to be rope and whips of varying
The air displaced around me, and I felt Derek move closer. His hands came up and trailed down my hair causing goosebumps to rise in their wake. I shivered, and I wish I could say it was out of fear or the room being cold but it wasn’t.
“Your skin is so sensitive, so responsive to my touch.” He spoke the last part against my neck, his lips trailing up my spine and kissing me beneath my hairline; my body shook involuntarily at the contact, he knew my biggest weakness and he was using it for the first time right now.
His hands moved back up my arms, when they reached my forearms he gripped them, securing me in place by his strength and he bit right over the spot he had just kissed. My knees instantly buckled; pleasure coursed through my body at his mouth’s ministrations, a combination of licks, sucks, bites and kisses. I remained standing only because of his hands around my arms.
Suddenly the attack stopped and I was harshly pulled against Derek, his erection hot and heavy against my back. “You are not to make a sound. If you do, there will be punishment. You do not come until I tell you it’s okay to do so, and you will not touch me until I tell you so. I can be your greatest lover, and take you to heights of pleasure you’ve only ever read about in ancient manuals. In the end, you’re the one ultimately in charge. If you want to stop then just say the magic word.”
“What’s the magic word? Stop?” I managed to spit out, voice trembling with anticipation as his direct words.
“No, it’s never stop. Stop is a word that you say when the pleasure is too much and you don’t think your mind or body can take it, that you will break if your cusp over that edge. You choose the word though; it can be anything.”
“So, like banana?”
Derek gave a short laugh. “Yes, like banana, but can we have something not related to a fruit or vegetable?”
I thought for a bit on what a good word would be. “Badge.”