Haven
The First Taste
by
Spoken
Copyright Spoken 2010
Published by LMinc
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is dedicated to all of those who said
there was no place for a story like this.
Thank you for your inspiration…
For those who saw a diamond in the rough, thank you for pushing me:
Tasha
Kat
And my daughter with the purple hair…
Chapter 1
Daddy
Hunger can be a fickle beast that will turn on its captor when left unfed. Nicole was no different. Her need for sexual gratification began to wreak havoc on her; invading her space and feeding on her every thought. In the shower it consumed her naked flesh. While she slept it manipulated her dreams into an erotic playground that she feared entering into her real life. It loomed over her like a never ending hangover and began to affect her job performance. She found herself fighting hard to concentrate on her clients, instead of the pounding that beat against her pussy with every step. And now it had led her to the parking lot of a bar that on any other night she would have driven past.
Earlier that day, as she stood in front of a client, she found herself succumbing to the whispers that ravished her body. They poked and prodded her, taking her to a place that resided beyond the walls of her office. While going over the business plan of a potential client she slowly drifted off, shedding her suit and neatly wrapped bun for nakedness. As Madeline spoke to her, she saw herself kneeling down in front of her and crawling over to her knee. She felt Madeline running her hand through her wild curls and petting her like some unclaimed kitten who needed an owner. She could smell the breath of her client against her face as Madeline moved in closer to her and slipped her hand between her thighs. Nicole came close to letting out a moan but was interrupted by reality. If it wasn’t for Michael calling into her office over the speaker, she would have given in to her fantasy.
Michael was her loyal assistant and best-friend. He had always appeared when she needed him and his intrusion was welcomed, giving her the diversion she needed to cut the meeting short so that she could clean herself up. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, staring through her reflection, she screamed inside. Raging at whatever this was that was slowly taking over every part of her. And now she was here, sitting in the parking lot of some unnamed bar with only an “Open” sign to welcome her in.
Nicole walked through the doors taking her time to inspect her surroundings, hoping for a clue to tell her why she had come. But there was not, and so she made her way towards the bartender dragging her nails along the withered wood.
Before she could ask for a drink the bartender had a martini waiting for her.
“How did you know?”
“You look like a dry martini type of girl.”
“I’m never dry.” She responded and grabbed her drink.
Nicole made her way towards the jukebox, inserted change, and searched for the right song to play. But before she could make her selection a stranger stepped in and chose a song for her.
“You owe me a quarter.”
“I’m Donatella, but they call me Dante”
Nicole leaned against the stranger, pressing her breast against Dante’s chest.
“I didn’t ask for your damn name.”
“And I didn’t wait for you to.”
Nicole turned to leave but Dante grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her closer.
“Dance with me.”
“No!”
Dante moved in even closer and whispered in her ear, “That wasn’t a question!”
She grabbed Nicole’s drink and finished it for her. Nicole felt the stern tone of this stranger run its way through her body, making her ignore her mind telling her to leave. Dante slid her hands around Nicole’s waist and rocked her slowly back and forth, in-synch with the beat that blasted through the speakers. Her hand started to slide from Nicole’s waist and ease its’ way up her blouse. Her breath came out heavy and Nicole was two seconds away from giving into her dance partner, but her senses took over and she pulled away. This time Dante wasn’t quick enough to stop her from running out of the bar.
And now here she was sitting in a parking lot, hitting her head against the steering wheel of her car and scolding herself for wanting a touch of a stranger. Nicole had no clue what was happening to her. Tonight proved that the beast she thought she had a handle on was getting out of control and control was one thing she prided herself on.
Her body wanted to be fucked, pounded into submission, subdued. But she couldn’t fathom having random sex with someone she barely knew despite the hunger pains her soul was suffering from. She started her car and flew out of the parking lot not looking back and trying desperately not to turn around.
When she got home she tried to bathe away the filth, but no amount of water would make her feel clean. Deep down she didn’t really want to be cleaned. She wanted something but that something had no name. So she found herself in front of her computer searching through personal ads over the internet. Her senses had turned her body into a depraved beast that needed to be fed and a simple meal would not do.
Pages of ads gave way to more ads and incessant ramblings of pervs who could barely spell “dick,” making her regret the idea of searching the internet in the first place. Nicole was close to ending her slow death and retreating to bed until she came across an ad that peaked her interest – SF Submissive Looking for Her Master. The title alone forced her to investigate further. As she read the ad, her nipples began lifting up her thin shirt and before she realized what she had done; her nails were deep in her thighs breaking skin. The brief moment of pain made her lick her lips while she reread the posting. She knew that this woman couldn’t pacify her because she appeared to be a passive creature looking for a dominate counterpart. However Nicole wanted to be her. The thought of being commanded seemed to fuck with her as she sat. She knew she had stumbled upon a world in which she may belong.
A fire ignited between her thighs and she started a new search. This time she typed in dominant, master, submissive, slave, and bondage – words that were familiar to her but not used in the context she was now reading. She couldn’t type as fast as she thought. Images flooded her screen and bombarded her senses. Erect nipples gave way to labored breathing. Nicole’s mind was on a tangent and it took every bit of her strength not to hump the nearest arm rest in celebration of her discoveries.
In her daydreams she envisioned herself giving her body over to someone else to control. When she awoke from her fantasies she found herself smiling at the thought of relinquishing herself. But it wasn’t solely the sexual aspects that intrigued her. During her search she came across many journals of slaves and submissives. Reading their reasons for entering the lifestyle showed her glimpses of what she secretly desired. She wanted to test her self-proclaimed boundaries, she wanted to feel and be owned, she wanted to submit at the feet of a Master and explore her sexuality in ways she never had before. Her visions of being chained, commanded, whipped, blind-folded, restrained, and lovingly tortured, were more than just that of a bored executive. They were the dreams of a submissive that had been caged.
She wasn’t sure what role she fell into, a slave or submissive, but she could see bits of both in her encounters. The way she desired her lover to fight her and make her do as they asked regularly was a sign. Overtime it had increased, she found herself fighting against them just to have them man handle her and take over her body. She begged for them to call her names and became wetter when they did so without asking. And she enjoyed pain and no matter how hard they pushed her, she wanted more. She was lucky to have come across lovers who indulged her whims, but her whims were becoming more and more intense and she began to realize that she didn’t want to tell anyone how and what to do with her, she just wanted them to do. And then she came across these terms, these small words that seem to make her wet when she thought of their meaning. She was starting to come alive.
Nicole went back to the personals site and typed female dominant. Her search returned a surfeit of listings. Her beautiful brown eyes twinkled in the glare of the computer screen. She had found her candy store. One by one she read the ads, playing out the wants of the posters. She wanted to run but found herself fixated on what she discovered. This was technically all new to her and yet it felt like it was a part of her. Now that she had found this utopia she couldn’t abandoned it. Possibly being bound and gagged excited her and the reality of being owned sounded sweet. The likelihood that she would get to indulge in these things was even tastier.
The personal ads coerced her into believing that in them, she would find what she sought. Even when the poster spoke of things she was clueless about she felt her body becoming excited. Her pussy became wetter with every word. And just when her clit felt as if it would cry out in agony, she found a posting that appeared to be written just for her:
“Female Aggressive Domme Seeking Female Submissive.”
“Umm,” she thought. The title tasted good to her pallet and made her instantly see herself at the woman’s feet, begging to be the submissive she sought. Without a second thought, Nicole began reading:
I am an aggressive Domme with years of experience. My taste is comparable to a yet to be discovered fine wine and as such it will be difficult to please me. The one who will have the privilege of sitting at my feet must be classy and possess a business mind. But first and foremost, she must be submissive. Many women claim to be submissive but are truly dominant. I do not have time to help you figure out which one you are. You must know your place when you come to me. I will be your priority, your reason for breathing, your master. Being the great Domme that I am, I will allow you to play boss while at work. When you crawl into the door of my bedroom you will take your rightful place beneath me. Know what you want when you come to me. No one is perfect and I prefer you not to be. My strap is an extension of me and with it I will break you. If you are here, you are obviously not what I need you to be. None the less, at my hand, you will be.
You may ask yourself if you are worthy. The decision is ultimately mine of course.
You may inquire of your worthiness, by sending me your picture in an email, addressing me as Daddy.
And be hungry… I like hunger.
Daddy’s words ran through her, molested her thoughts, and wrapped themselves around her neck with a powerful grip. Nicole wanted Daddy. She had that way about her. It didn’t take her long to make a decision and once it was decided that she wanted something, she went after it. Everything was a merger to her and anything left unprotected was ripe for the picking. In her career it made her a hot commodity but it was a quality that may prove to be detrimental in the voyage she was about to undertake.
With all of her daydreams the one vision that seemed to haunt her the most, consisted of her walking out of a boardroom meeting upright and then entering the doors of her home on all fours. There was a ball-gag strapped across her mouth and a collar around her neck. She was being led by an unknown entity. The dream had become like a cancer running rampant throughout her mind. It infected her conscious thoughts and forced her to focus on it alone.
Nicole was next in line to be Vice President of the acquisitions company she worked for. She played hard and rough in a boys sport and they despised her for it. She got off on knowing the power she had over them and laughed at the fact that they all wanted to either be her or fuck her. These qualities should have made for a supreme dominatrix. Instead she wanted to abandon control. When she had sex she didn’t want to teach or direct, she wanted to be molded and made to do. She would gladly hand over her crown to one who could control her. But the task would not be easy. A strong minded woman can smell the scent of another like-minded woman. Anything less would be recognized as weakness and her mind alone would devour them. Daddy seemed like a strong enough adversary and she was anxious to give her a chance.
Daddy’s post hit on every aspect of her longing and was scarily in-tune with her daydream. This stranger possibly held the key to stopping her hunger. Her pussy dripped from Daddy’s very first line. A wicked grin crept its way across her face as she mulled over the possible scenarios that could come from their involvement.
Nicole logged into her email account and mentally prepared herself to reply to the ad. She had been use to demanding what she wanted. Although her being wanted to submit, the act itself; tested her. At first, she just stared at the blinking cursor on the screen. When her fingers finally touched the keys, her subconscious guided her. But nothing she wrote seemed to be worthy. The words she wanted to express fought with her to gain control. Her words seemed to get all tongue tied in her mind and her thoughts became twisted, stifling her. The chaos brewing inside of her was the equivalent to a horrific accident and for once she felt lost and didn’t know what to say. Her savvy business sense proved to be no help as she fumbled through the email. Out of frustration, she simply typed: “Daddy, Am I worthy…” attached her picture and pressed send.
Nicole got up from her desk and headed towards the kitchen to make some coffee. She was extremely tired but didn’t feel like sleeping and hoped that coffee could balance her mood. Coffee always seemed to have an opposite effect on her - it never kept her up, but instead cooed her into a calm state that eventually led to sleep. As she headed towards the kitchen she saw headlights shining through her window. She didn’t immediately go to the door, but waited to see if the lights would go off or at the very least she would hear a car door slamming. When nothing else happened, she thought that it must have been someone who was lost. She quickly turned her attention back to the task of making coffee and rummaged through the cabinets looking for her favorite blend.
“…French Vanilla, Columbian Dark Roast, Brazilian Nut…where’s the damn Amaretto…”
Nicole’s favorite button-down shirt revealed her panty-less ass and thick thighs as she reached deep into the cupboard. A sigh of relief escaped from her lips as she finally found what she was after. As soon as she brought the gold little bag down to embark upon her coffee making ritual; she heard a knock at her door. It wasn’t very loud at first which made her question if she had heard anything at all. But then a series of violent knocks reassured her that someone was there. She ran to the door thinking that it must be some kind of emergency for anyone to be knocking wildly at her door at such a late hour.
Nicole pressed her near naked body against the door and looked out the peep hole. “Who is it?”
“Baby it’s me, please open up…”
Nicole smiled at the sound of the familiar voice and opened the door to find Aden standing before her with distraught eyes. Despite her apparent frazzled state, Aden still appeared to Nicole as a thing of beauty. She stood 6’ 2” with a deafening physique. If Adonis had been a woman, Aden would have been her. She possessed a feminine air about her, but came off as very masculine. Nicole may have been the only woman in her life that saw the delicate side in her. Aden’s tone was passionately strong and mannish whenever she spoke. The oxymoron’s Aden exhibited enticed Nicole and she had been engaged in a cat and mouse game with her for quite some time.
Tonight, as Aden stood in her doorway, Nicole saw chips in her armor and wondered what had brought her to her this evening. It must have been raining on Aden’s side of town because she was drenched and her hair was stuck wildly to her olive colored face. Her clothes hung off of her like she put little thought into getting dressed and Nicole could see her fingertips trembling underneath her oversized shirt. Nicole reached out her hand and led Aden inside. Aden paused in the foyer and pulled Nicole to her. She got on her knees and opened Nicole’s barely buttoned shirt and inhaled her scent as she rested her head against her pelvis. Aden held her taunt by the thighs as if the survival of her world depended on her holding on to Nicole. Nicole ran her hands through Aden’s hair stroking her head gently without saying a word. They remained like this for quite some time, both still and silent holding on to one another. Nicole had no idea what event brought Aden to her at the brink of morn, but as she held on to her, the need to know the reason behind her visit faded.
Aden started slowly kissing Nicole’s stomach, leaving behind spots of wetness along her torso. Nicole moaned softly as she closed her eyes. The warmth that emerged from Aden’s lips made her feel heavy and she wanted to fall. Her shirt slipped off of her small frame, causing her long, thick hair to rest on her ass-cheeks and graze Aden’s arm. Aden grabbed the ends of her hair and gave a light but hard tug. This sent Nicole’s hormones raging and made her feel even weaker. The wetness that seeped from between her thighs was greeted by Aden’s hand and shortly thereafter, her fingertips. Nicole’s pussy hugged Aden’s fingers tight and began to contract in rhythm with her movement. The more her pelvic muscles flexed, the wetter she became, making it easy for Aden to slip her entire fist inside of her. Nicole gasped as Aden’s fist played within her womb.