The journey begins.
There was absolutely no way on god’s green earth that I was going to shave off my pubic hair for him or anybody else for that matter. Hell, I’d only had the bloody stuff for a couple of years so why the hell should I want to shave it off. I put all my efforts into my college work pleased to say paid dividends later on. I didn’t go out at all just stayed in and crammed for the exams my father was really proud of me he’d always wanted me to be a teacher. When the day I was due to meet my saviour so to speak I wasn’t going to go let alone shave anything not even under my arms let alone my pubic hair. With just two hours to go, I was still full of resistance if not defiance there was no way, none.
Two hours later I was waiting made up and dressed to impress outside the place we had arranged to meet, minus my pubic hair and any other body hair for that matter. I’d used my scissors to crop it and my brother’s razor and shaving cream to remove it and Alison had helped me shave the parts I couldn’t reach myself. I’d arrived before we were due to meet as he would always prove to be, he was on time to the second. I don’t remember the events of the night but I do remember as on our first date he was a complete gentleman. I also recall that at the end of the night he took me home kissed me goodnight in the porch of the house and told me he’d ring me the next day. He’d never even mentioned my shaved pubic mound or tried to find out if I was shaved or not, I was disappointed god I was so disappointed.
Our third date was a few days later and started in a pub I’d not been in before it looked run down and we were the youngest people there by at least 50 years. He told me he liked it that way as older people tend to leave you alone and didn’t want to prove how macho they were to their mates or girlfriends. During our conversation, he told me he had something for me and I was intrigued, “What was it I asked?” and he handed me a tin of lighter fuel and a small lighter to go with it. “You are going to need that,” he told me and handed me a very large thick brown envelope and added, “To burn these.” I opened the envelope and there inside was at least 300 Polaroid’s of me taken by my persecutors for the past year. I wanted to cry and I also wanted to know how the hell he got them, he must have read my mind and just looked at me and said: “Don’t ask.”
I wanted to burn them straight away and told him just that, then all I wanted to know was had he seen them? I was blushing as I asked and even more so when he said: “Of course I have I am a man, men like to see naked women being fucked and abused, why wouldn’t I look?” I said I didn’t know and I felt awful and even more so when he told me I looked as if I was enjoying it, well at least some of it. Once again I didn’t know what to say I just looked down at the package on the table and wanted the earth to open up and swallow me as I felt a tear running down my cheeks. He decided that we’d go over to another town not far from us and go to a club there which was frequented my footballers (Pre Premier League) from United and City as well as Stoke and even the Liverpool clubs. On the way we stopped at the car park Alan was so fond of and burnt the photos. I wanted to ask if he’d kept any but I was too scared of the answer much, later on, I found he hadn’t.
At the club which was in the posh part of Leicestershire there was a huge line of people trying and failing to get in and we parked his modest Escort between two huge Mercedes then he took my hand and we went straight to the front of the line of people the Doorman moved the silk rope across the door and told him “Welcome back Sir enjoy your night.” All I could think about was how impressed Susan and Hanna would be when I told them. The one thing I’d notice with him was the fact he had never touched a drop of alcohol and he never swore, ever. I, of course, liked a drink and I still do and I liked to dance and he was a good dancer I felt relaxed and I felt like a lady because he treated me like one and I felt he was really interested in me.
Towards the end of the night still, at the posh club, I asked him why he’d never asked about me shaving my hair like he’d asked me to. He just smiled at me and told me “Simple because I knew you would and I didn’t have to ask you” and he went on to say “Do something else for me now, leave your handbag and go to the ladies and take off your knickers and bra and cum back and put them in the pockets of my jacket over there hung on that chair, do it now please.” I was stunned at first then he just smiled at me and sat down and once more off I went and took off my underwear just like he’d asked and brought them back to him and put them in his jacket.
I felt really exposed although my dress was not really that short I had the feeling everybody knew I had no knickers on and they could all see I didn’t have a bra on that much was plain to see. We danced some more and I was conscious all the time that one slip and the whole place would see my shaven charms. Over by the table, we were sat at it was pretty dark but not un-crowded he kissed me up against the wall and then turned me around so he was up against the wall and I had my back to the room. That was the first time he touched me sexually putting his hand up my dress and I opened my legs to give him easy access as he fingered me I groaned and felt my legs buckle as I came, my first public sex act.
He fucked me hard in the living room of my parent’s house stuffing my knickers into my mouth to keep me quiet. It was safe in the living room because at that time they would all be in bed and the bedrooms well to the other side of the house. Plus both my middle-class parents even if they knew I was having sex downstairs wouldn’t like to admit it. It was clear he liked it from behind in my by then not unlimited experience most men did. I asked him when he had me bent over my father favorite chair which hole he was going to put it in fearing the worse, he just smiled at me slapped me hard on my backside and told me “Both of them now.” He let himself out of the house and it took me a while to get myself together gather my clothes and walk still naked to my bed.
I didn’t hear from him all week but I knew he’d be in touch and on Friday he was telling me he’d pick me up about 8 pm but he not be out late and wouldn’t be able to see me for the rest of the weekend. I didn’t get back from college 7.30 and I wasn’t anywhere near ready and I sent Alison down when he arrived to ask him to come in. The little minx loved every second of it and when I went down all hot and bothered about being late I swear she was actually flirting with him and I was jealous.
In the car before we left he asked me “What colour knickers are you wearing?” and I told him “Does it match your bra?” yes I said they did match. “Take them both off and put them in the glove box before we go anywhere,” I said that my parents may see or my brothers would be watching but he just smiled at me and pointed to the glove box and so I did lowering myself down in the seat as I did and he was happy. Will I have to do that every time I asked trying to make a joke out of it as I was very embarrassed by it and he just smiled and said: “Stop wearing them and you won’t have to.” We had a good night and found a lay-by in a lane down the side of my father’s favorite pubs and I often think as I drive past the spot if they could hear me screaming from there.
This was a Friday night and I was back home and in bed before 11.30 when normally I’d be just arriving at The Cave. Instead, it was Alison who was the dirty stop out not arriving home until 10.30 the next morning looking slightly the worse for wear to say the least. My father went off his head she was just 13 years old and had been out all night. She was/is a clever girl and she got out of it by claiming she’d told our brother all about staying at a friend’s and told him to pass it on so nobody would worry. He was such a drip he couldn’t remember if she had or hadn’t, in truth her friend's parents were away and she’d told them she was staying at Alison’s house and of course they were both fucking the cocks off their boyfriends.
The following Wednesday the local paper came out and had a feature on of all people, Ian under the headline “Local Karate hero leads England to Glory” it would appear the reason he couldn’t see me at the weekend as he had a Karate competition. This quickly put him up in my family’s eyes all apart from my father who still hated him even more and always would do, in time he’d learn to respect him but never to like him. My mother was so impressed she wanted to invite him for Sunday lunch and even my grandmother wanted to meet him. When he rang me Friday night I told him and he was only too pleased and told me that if I didn’t want to take off my underwear on the drive again not to wear any and don’t forget to shave and I gladly did. The sex was always great and my family excluding my father really liked him and I knew I was always safe with him.
As I got to know him after just a few weeks I knew I was a changed person I didn’t go out to just get as drunk as I could and end up with any fool inside me at the end of the night. When I went out guys left me alone and didn’t take it for granted I’d fuck them if I was drunk enough, which may still have been the case if I hadn’t met him, who knows. I’d told him everything about myself including Richard and his cards and making me pay his debts threesomes with Susan everything and answered all his questions. Including how it made me feel about this or that experience or why did I think I did this or that. He also asked me how I felt about wearing no knickers or a bra and shaving off my pubic hair? I told him I didn’t want to do it but I did it because he wanted me to.
He told me that he knew what my answer would be before he asked the question and that soon he’d tell me just why he knew. So now I automatically shaved once a week on a Friday to be smooth for him at the weekends without being asked. He wanted to know and when I buy a dress or skirt did I buy them just a little longer to make certain they don’t show off my lack of knickers and again I had to agree that yes I did. Going back to Toby and Steve I knew I’d be fucked and used by them and their friends and yet I still went, didn’t I? Again I had to admit that yes I still went knowing it wasn’t going to be pleasant. As well as still going to Richard’s card games knowing that I’d end up fucking for money, did I still go, yes I did? “Do you know what fucking for money made you Susan?” he asked me and I didn’t answer. “It makes you a prostitute, a whore it made you a fuck for money slag Susan, that’s what it made you.” I can recall every single second of that conversation up to that point as if it was burnt onto my memory. At first, I thought he was going to bring it to an end and my eyes began to fill with tears.
“Tell me Susan” he requested “what does fucking for money make you answer me?” I tried to speak to defend myself and I wanted to feel his arms around me hugging me. “It makes you a whore Susan and a slag tell me what it makes you Susan, tell me to say it.” I wanted him to stop I’d do anything to turn things back just a few seconds I wanted it to stop so I told him, “It makes me a whore.” The dam burst and I started to sob loudly and then he holds me as I wept and that made me feel better. He told me “It’s nothing, nothing at all Susan and it doesn’t matter unless you make it matter.”
He went on to explain to me that although I was a clever girl and had no doubt a bright future I’d probably had more sex than most women had in a lifetime and certainly more sex partners already. He didn’t think that was good, bad or even relevant at all it certainly wasn’t important unless I thought it was but he didn’t. I was he told me I was a “sexually submissive” which meant I was “wired” differently from most other women. The conversation was long and mostly one way he spoke, I listened only interrupting him to ask the odd question mainly related to my thought process that he was going to dump me because I was a slut at the very least and a prostitute at the other end of the scale, only prostitutes shaved their pubes.
I didn’t understand why this conversation was taking place and I didn’t know how it started not really what I did know was I wanted it to end. I also didn’t understand half the things he told me I’d never even heard of S&M or BDSM submissive natures or Dominant ones for that matter. I did know I didn’t want him to dump me. I tried to take it all in as he talked about control and me wanting to please my sexual partners, some but very little made sense to me. All I could think of was “Please don’t dump me, please don’t dump me please.” I had an awful pain in the bottom of my stomach and I just couldn’t hear him anymore so bad was my anxiety at that moment I thought I would scream the grief was so bad.
Then I felt him stroking my hair telling me to calm down and not to worry because there was nothing to worry about, his words pacified me and I started to relax although. I’m not even sure what I said to him or for that matter what he said to me either all I knew was he was still with me and I was with him and I didn’t want that to change, ever. The sex after our conversation and my humiliation, was some of the best I can ever remember, he pounded into me hard making me orgasm time and time again, making me say over and over “Fuck me I’m a slag, fuck me I’m a slag, fuck me I’m a slag” I also screamed at him to “Hurt me, bang it inside me hurt me please hurt me” I am pleased to say that he did just that.
I arrived home later a real mess my hair was wet from my own sweat and his cum, my skirt was filthy and my top was torn having done that myself in a hurry to get it off and my make-up made me look like hell after all the crying I’d done. Alison wasn’t there and she wasn’t there all night and in the morning I was told she was staying at her friends and no doubt her friend would be staying at our house, things had started to change for both of us and more than we’d ever realise.
Each time we met which now was most nights as my exams had finished, normally at his mother’s council house on an estate the other side of town, the wrong side in my father’s eyes. The sex was always great and plentiful and so were the things he taught me and the conversations I had. He explained to me that “If I wanted to stay with him I’d have to learn his rules.” The first two I’d learned without knowing to keep myself shaved and no underwear in his presence and no knickers at any time, which was relaxed when I had my period. As our relationship developed there would be more rules as he himself advanced into his role as a Dominant and could call himself a “Master.”
One of those first rules was my use of language I was told that I had to abandon my middle-class Leicestershire mindset and embrace what I really was which was a “Whore and a slag” so out went words like prick, Willie, penis, pussy, vagina, breasts, anus, and bottom to be replaced with cock, cunt tits and arse hole or just arse. I also had to leave behind any notion of what I thought of myself because I wasn’t a nice middle-class Leicestershire girl because I was a “Whore and a slag” all very confusing at first. The main thing I found hard was the fact that I was told that I didn’t need to any of those things and I was free to end it at any time I wanted and to talk away. All I had to say was “No I’m not doing it” or “no I don’t want to I have had enough” and I was free to walk away from him and he’d understand. I didn’t want to walk away and I told him that, I wanted him to want me the way I wanted him. “When I ask you to do something Susan,” he told me “I want you to do it, not because you have to but because you want to please me by doing it. When you do things I want even though you may not like to do them, I know it’s because you want to please me, you do want to please me don’t you Susan?” Yes, I did, I really wanted to please him and I wanted him to want me. At that point in time, I wanted nothing in the world more than for him to be pleased with me and not leave me I was empty even thinking about that.
To be continued.