(See Part 1 of this story here.)
The first time a man
asked me told me, to call him “Sir” I was unprepared. We’d had this really light hearted totally flirty date, leading up to him walking home with me. We had spent a few minutes chatting easily in the kitchen of my apartment there in Chiang Mai, and poured two glasses of wine for us to drink. He looked at the closed door of my bedroom and asked me, “Is this the bedroom?” but before I could answer, he took my hand, opened the door and pulled me through.
He turned on the light, and we stood there at the edge of the bed. He pulled me close to him and kissed me until I was weak. Then without pulling away, our mouths still close, touching breathlessly, he threaded his hand into the back of my hair and whispered, “You are going to do what I tell you, and do it while calling me Sir, or I am going to take you over my knee and spank you.”
In that instant, I was more turned on than I have ever been, I mean, Hello! Fantasy come true! And also, too nervous to do anything more than giggle. With that giggle he pushed me onto the bed, where I started to really laugh out loud. Come on? Pushing me onto the bed?
Oh, the laughing stopped when he sat down next to me, and proceeded to do exactly as he said he would. Before I knew what was happening, he pulled me over his knee, and gave me three good smacks on the ass. THAT shut me up quick.
He let me wiggle off of his lap and sit at the top of the bed. I sat there looking at him without speaking. He asked me, quietly, “OK now. Are you ok with moving forward with this?” I didn’t answer him right away, and he took a few sips of his wine, and offered me my glass, while he let me ponder my response.
Really, I knew I was going to say yes. I have always had fantasies about these kinds of scenarios. A strong person, over powering me, making me submit to all the ways they would pleasure me. Except, I wasn’t sure that was how this would go. Would he make me submit to my own pleasure, or submit to pleasuring him? My hesitation was in deciding if I was willing to do this either way, not in the desire to do this. That spanking had totally pulled me in, my desire had quickly risen very high, we were already a little tipsy, and I was ready for this adventure.
“Yes, I am ok with this.”
“Yes, I am ok with this, Sir!” He gently corrected me.
“Yes, I am ok with this, Sir.” I dutifully replied, savoring the way “Sir” sounded rolling off my lips. I had never called a man Sir without being silly, or joking, or respectful as when speaking to my elders. THIS? This was something new entirely, and with that phrase I was giving in to this experience and prepared to find out what it would be like.
We started kissing and touching and exploring each other’s bodies. The light was on, and the cool night breeze, and sounds of my busy Thai neighborhood were filtering in through the open window. Eventually, he stopped and said, (always he spoke to me in a low, quiet, and steady voice) “Take off your clothes, leave your panties on.”
As I stood up to do as he bid me, he said, “What do you say?”
“That’s a good girl. Nicely done. Now, take them off.”
I am not going to lie. As turned on as I was, as much as I wanted this experience, it was difficult not to giggle nervously and talk my way out of it. Giggles are almost always my first nervous reaction, and talking too much, well that’s just how I operate! But, I kept myself together. I reminded myself how much I wanted to see where this was going, and I took off all my clothes, except the light blue cotton panties I was wearing.
He patted the sheets next to him, indicating that I should join him in the bed again. “Put your hands behind your head, spread your legs, and don’t move,” he gently commanded.
“Yes sir,” I remembered to say it this time without being prompted. I was relieved to realize, this was going to be a “submit to my own pleasure” kind of experience, at least for the moment, and relaxed into the position in eager anticipation.
He slowly touched my body. Alternating his touches with between gentle caresses and slight slaps and easy pinches. Moving from my bare breasts, to my face, back to my stomach, along the tops of my thighs, behind my knees. He trailed his lips and wet tongue behind each caress of his fingers. I was tingling all over but he was avoiding the most sensitive spot of all.
I don’t know how long this went on, it seemed like time stood still as I let myself be touched, and then he just stopped. I opened my eyes and looked at him, he asked me “Do you want more?”
“Yes please who?”
“Yes please, Sir.”
“Yes, please Sir, you want what? Tell me what you want.”
“Please, Sir, I want you to keep touching me.”
“Where do you want me to touch you? Tell me, my good little girl.”
“Sir, I want you to touch me all over.”
“No, I don’t think so. I think you are ready for me to touch you in a very specific place, and you need to tell me where, or I won’t do it. Can you tell me, sweet one? Tell me where you want me to touch you.”
“Please Sir, I want you to touch me down there.”
“Down where, little one? Your pussy? Tell me that you want Sir to touch your pussy.”
“Yes, please, yes, touch my pussy.” With that he gave me a quick slap to the inside of my thigh, I had forgotten to say Sir.
“Sir, please, sir!” By now, I was so hot, and so wet. I felt like I NEEDED him to touch me, I needed the relief!
He very slowly and very deliberately started to touch me. Through my panties, alternating sensations, again following with his tongue and lips. Finally he dragged my panties down my legs and off.
“Spread your legs wide for Sir.”
As I did what he commanded, he began his exploration of me in earnest. I tried to move my arms down, I couldn’t stay still, he pushed them back up and behind my head once again. Finally, I was so close, I wanted to come so badly, my hips were writhing, he was smiling, and he stopped.
“I want you to touch yourself. I am going to watch for a while. You can move your arms now. But don’t do anything until I come back.” He climbed off the bed, and sauntered into the kitchen. He took his time and he poured himself a glass of wine, before he came back and sat on the edge of the bed. “Ok, now you will touch yourself.”
He casually sipped his wine and watched me intently as I caressed myself. The time he had made me wait, had slowed the intensity of the sensations I had been feeling, and now I was building them back up again. But I too was taking my time, enjoying the feeling, enjoying him watching.
Before too long, while I swirled my fingers over my clit, he pushed his fingers deep inside me and began to stroke, in and out. My breathing was heavy, and he could tell I was close to coming, and again he stopped and covered my hand with his to stop me as well.
“Do you want to come? Does my little girl want to come?”
“Yes, Sir! Please I want to come!”
“Ok, little one. You may come now.”
With that he resumed his stroking motions, and I resumed my swirling motions, pushing my hips up to meet both touches as closely as I could. I came very quickly and very intensely. As I lay there, spent, sweaty, and feeling so very relaxed, he said, “Open your mouth.” As I did, he put his fingers inside, and knowing what he wanted, I licked them off.
He lay close beside me, pulled me against his curled up body, he stroked my hair, and brushed his fingers along the side of my face. “What a good girl you are. You came so nice for your Sir. That was beautiful. What do you say to me for letting you come?”
“Thank you, Sir.”
I was half asleep while we lay there, relaxed, spooning together on the bed for a while, when he leaned in and kissed me on the forehead. He whispered, “Sleep. Don’t get up. Sir has to go now. Thank you for a lovely evening and for being such a good little girl.”
He got up out of the bed, turned off the light, shut the door, and left. I never saw him again.