Allison was a young woman of 22 years old, and average was all she had ever know. Average height, average weight, average grades, an existence she considered “average”; sometimes she wondered what she must have done in a past life to feel so boring.

She was prettier than she gave herself credit for and she didn’t notice the guys that liked her; probably because she was too busy daydreaming and being ignored by the guys she was attracted to.

Her hair was light brown and typically pulled into a low pony tail which lay along the back of her neck, contrasting softly against her pale skin. She owned some makeup, but was too afraid to use it. The thought of others laughing and snickering at her had crossed her mind more times than she could count; more times than she cared to admit to herself.

Working as a waitress and being a student in college, she lived in a studio apartment that might as well have been a closet. Allison felt like it would be an eternity before she would be able to break out of her shell. She wanted to be a designer, or a chef, or a museum curator – anything, anywhere other than what and where she was right now.

The muted tones and style of clothing she wore did not do her any favors in the “finding Mr. Right” department. She could always rely on the guys at the bar in the restaurant she worked at for a whistle, or a stare that made her feel like “men are the absolute worst”. Maybe this was why she hid in plain sight, a camouflage of sorts.

There were many days that Allison looked in the mirror and told herself “Today. This is the day that things change for me.”, but it was always just more of the same. School, work, home. Study, minimum wage plus tips, sleep. Blah, blah, blah.

What was she doing with her life?

She was committed to getting a degree, but hadn’t yet figured out what she wanted get a degree in; working now on general education classes. More of a book-worm than anything else, but she had trouble focusing, particularly during exams. The pressure got to her and diminished her grades, perpetually.

As for dating, she had dated so many of the wrong guys that it was starting to feel impossible. Mr. “I’ll pick up the check after being a jerk for an hour and you know what that means?” “It means you’re going home with less money than you started the night with” she laughed to herself. Nerds, jocks, even the guys who seemed like they might be “perfect”; they had baggage, or they were liars, or rude, or angry at the world, or angry at themselves. The list goes on.

Her most recent date involved meeting online and talking for weeks before meeting in person. Immediately after meeting this guy, she wished that she hadn’t. He was even more self-conscious than she was and she got the distinct feeling that if he made a move, it would be very awkward to say the least.

With regard to sex, it was like a foreign subject. Guys never knew where to touch or what to do so that she felt pleasure. Her experiences told her “They don’t even really care”. “I’m in, I’m out, I’m done with you.”

One particular experience she had was during the summer between high school and college, years ago. There was tension and excitement in making out and having sex with one of the better-looking guys she had been in school with. A writhing ball of heat and flesh, hands grasping wildly and exploring each other’s bodies. He finished before she even felt an orgasm beginning to dwell; wet and juicy, but not yet satisfied. She never heard from him again.

It’s not that she had never orgasmed, but it was almost always her “helping” herself.

She would lay awake at night staring at her ceiling and imagining what foreplay must feel like. Softly running her hands over her body wishing that a man would come along and be that person for her. Imagining movie stars or guys she had seen and was attracted to then inserting them into her memories of the better sex that she had in the past.

Sometimes it was almost like a ritual. The lights turned low and music playing softly in the background. Her favorite pornographic movies on her cell phone. Listening to the women moaning and wishing just once that she could feel what they must feel to make the noises that they make. Her belt unbuckling itself and her pants being pulled off. A hand caressing her stomach and ribcage on its way to her breast and grasping it. A finger lightly teasing her nipple until it became hard. A second hand finding its way into her underwear causing her to bite her lip.

What must that be like?


Today was an ordinary day, nothing special. Allison found herself at the mall alone walking around and people-watching. She did this from time to time as kind of a hobby, maybe she would meet someone, or maybe she would find herself in an interesting situation. One time a person collapsed and paramedics had to take them out on a stretcher; it must have been horrible for that person, and it wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world but at least she wasn’t at home, on her fold out couch, again.

As she was walking, she noticed a couple. She guessed that they were somewhere in their 30’s, and something about this man and woman just seemed different; she couldn’t put her finger on it exactly but something about them drew her attention.

The man was handsome with short dark hair, wearing dark jeans with a button up shirt and dress shoes. The vibe she got from him was that he was kind, but not a pushover – just something about the way he was treating the woman.

It was the woman though, who Allison found herself staring at. This woman was pretty, wearing cute wedges, a frilly skirt, a tank top, and a collar. A collar. Her makeup looked effortless, like her face naturally contoured itself in all the right places, and her wavy shoulder length hair looked like it was professionally colored; black with bright purple highlights.

The woman noticed Allison staring, and smiled. Allison immediately felt herself blush and turned away for a moment. When she looked back, the woman was talking in the man’s ear and then they were both looking at her. Allison felt butterflies in her stomach as intense as she has ever felt them. Part of her wished that she could absorb herself into a wall and that they had never seen her, but she also couldn’t help but feel curious about them. She stood around faking interest in the scenery and the products in the windows, glancing back at the couple every now and then.

The woman must have known exactly how Allison felt because the next thing Allison knew, the woman was walking in her direction. Even the way this woman walked seemed like she was controlled and intentional but at the same time like she was floating. The woman started talking about the soaps and candles Allison was pretending to be interested in. After a few pleasantries, the woman introduced herself as Lacey and handed Allison a black card with silver writing on it. Lacey said that this card was for Allison and no one else. If Allison was interested in meeting up or just talking some time, she should contact Lacey and tell her they met at the mall.

As Lacey left, walking back to the man, holding his hand and kissing his cheek; Allison watched, enviously. What had just happened? She looked down and felt the card in her hand. It seemed thick and sturdy. On one side silver writing read “Steele & Lacey” with an ID for a private message service. The other side had a symbol that she had never seen in the center, a lightning bolt was recognizable through the middle of it.


That night Allison did not know what to think and placed the card on her dresser, and there it sat. She looked at it every day. Sometimes she would find herself holding it and looking at her phone wondering whether she should reach out, and what would happen if she did.

A week passed and the curiosity overwhelmed Allison, her thoughts were filled with questions. This was not like any experience she had before. After multiple arguments with herself, she downloaded the app onto her phone and reached out using the address on the card simply saying “Hi”. “I can always just say ‘no thanks’ if things seem weird.” she rationalized.

A few minutes passed and Allison had not looked away from her phone. “What was I expecting?” she thought, “did I expect an immediate response?” Why did she feel this way? Like she just got asked to a dance.

A couple of hours went by and there still wasn’t a response. Did she send the message to the wrong person? Then Allison remembered that she should write about the mall and sent a second message.

About an hour later she got a response “Hey, how’s it going? Did you end up getting any of those soaps?”. Allison smiled and began talking with Lacey. They talked about general likes and dislikes; music, tv shows, movies things like that. Lacey had asked if Allison had a boyfriend, and Allison said she didn’t. A little while later Lacey asked if Allison wanted to hang out some time.

Allison felt nervous again. Would Steele be there? Who was he? Who were they? She realized it had been a while since she had received the message and told Lacey she had to go.


It had been a couple days and Allison was very confused. A week ago, she was “plain Jane” and now all of a sudden, she is talking with a woman who… She thought about it for a moment. Was she attracted to Lacey? Was she attracted to Steele? Were they attracted to her? Or were they just trying to be friends?

A scenario in which the couple became horrified and disgusted at Allison’s assumptions ran through her mind more than a few times.

Once again, Allison after struggling with herself reached out to Lacey. She asked what Lacey had in mind if they did hang out, and if Steele would be there. Lacey responded that they could do whatever Allison wanted and gave suggestions of bowling, pool, and mini-golf. Steele could be there, or he could not be there depending on what Allison wanted, but he was buying regardless.

Allison was not expecting a response like this. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but this was certainly not it.

Allison and Lacey made plans to go bowling that Thursday night without Steele.


Allison and Lacey met outside the bowling alley. Allison immediately felt like she was the under-dressed “friend”. Lacey was glowing in skin tight jeans, a stylish blouse, make-up, curled hair, perfect French tip nails, and a collar again only this one was different, dark silver and black with a heart shaped lock on it. They said “hi” and hugged, Allison couldn’t help but notice Lacey’s perfume, which was intoxicating. They made their way into the building and got a lane.

They were at their lane inputting their names and getting ready to bowl now and Allison was very intrigued by Lacey but had no idea how to approach talking to her.

“So, you and Steele?” Allison offered. Lacey was putting her hair up and smiled at Allison. “Yup, me and Steele”. “Does he make you wear that?” Allison asked pointing at the collar around Lacey’s neck. Immediately, Allison felt like that was the lamest question she could ask. Lacey smiled again “He makes me want to wear it”.

Allison clearly did not understand. Lacey leaned in and whispered in Allison’s ear “Steele is my lover, and he is my Dom”. Allison gave another look like this was a language she did not understand – “lets finish our game and I’ll tell you about it later”.

The two women bowled for a couple of hours and had a good time in spite of Allison’s un-itched curiosity. Allison explained that she was in college but hadn’t found a direction yet; Lacey encouraged her to continue and that she would figure things out when they needed to be figured out. A song came on that Lacey liked and she made Allison dance with her, Allison couldn’t remember the last time she had this much fun.

The moment they walked outside Allison brought the conversation back to the collar and the “Dom” thing. Lacey laughed quietly and suggested they go back to one of their places and have a drink so they could talk in private. Allison was embarrassed about her apartment and did not want Lacey to see it. She imagined Lacey taking one look and walking away, so she agreed to go to Lacey’s for “one drink”.

Allison followed Lacey back to her place, wondering the whole time “what am I getting myself into?”


Lacey and Allison pulled up to a house in the middle of a suburban street. The house wasn’t a mansion, but it was big and it was beautiful. Rock accents were lit up by lighting in the front lawn. Lacey parked her car in the garage then escorted Allison to the entrance of the house and opened the door.

The entrance they walked through led them into an open area immediately adjacent to a living room that Allison felt could fit her entire apartment and still have extra space around it. The décor, art, furniture, wall paper, everything looked clean, tidy, and immaculate. Lacey took Allison to the kitchen and made herself a spiked lemonade, “would you like one?” she offered. Allison nodded, taking in the stainless-steel appliances and the granite counter tops. Lacey handed Allison the drink and escorted her to the living room.

A wrap-around sofa with an oversized ottoman invited Allison to sit before Lacey even offered. Lacey grabbed a remote and turned on a rather large TV then handed the remote to Allison. “I’m going to tell Steele we’re here and I’ll be back”. Allison started looking at what was available to watch. She found a teen comedy she enjoyed in theaters when she was about 20. Lacey returned “Awesome, I love this movie!” “Turn it on” she said.

The ladies had their drinks in hand and with the movie in the background began to talk as Lacey promised. Allison wanted to know what the collar was for and what a “Dom” was.

Lacey asked about Allison’s familiarity with “kink” and “BDSM”. Allison had heard the terms, but wasn’t quite sure what they meant. Lacey explained what the terms meant in her opinion, and what the roles of a submissive, a dominant, and a switch are. She explained about the collar, what it meant to her, and that she had earned it.

Allison found herself a little overwhelmed by the information. She was excited and nervous and a little scared again. Lacey took the drinks and placed them on a table near the couch. Then Lacey put her hand on Allison’s and said “We can talk about whatever you want to talk about, and I understand if you aren’t interested” Lacey guided Allison’s hand gently to Lacey’s knee.

Lacey’s touch was causing Allison to become warmer, her heart beating faster, she could feel perspiration beginning to intrude upon her skin. Hormones started to race through her veins, the butterflies fluttering anxiously. An unscratchable itch of pleasure and desire building up between her thighs and moisture finding its way into her panties.

Lacey leaned in and whispered in Allison’s ear “I want you to know that you are seen. I gave you the card because you seemed curious. Steele and I will not push you beyond your limits, and if you want, you will never hear from us again.”

The warmth of Lacey’s breath on Allison’s ear caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand up, a jolt of nerves running down her spine. The perfume pleasantly enticing Allison in ways she never expected to feel.

Lacey then kissed Allison on the lips.

Allison resisted for a moment out of shock, then she felt exhilarated, and stimulated. She realized that she was into Lacey and really enjoyed what was happening. Upon this recognition, she kissed Lacey back like she didn’t want to lose the feeling. It was electric.

Lacey put her hand on Allison’s thigh and started moving it slowly upward. Allison could feel her underwear now beginning to soak with anticipation. Lacey took her hand all the way into Allison’s crotch and could feel the moisture through Allison’s jeans. Lacey moved her hand slowly and softly up Allison’s belly, across her breasts and ended up gently grabbing Allison by the face.

Allison had a look of great surprise when Lacey looked her in the eyes. “Do you like the way this is going?” Lacey asked. Allison nodded yes. “If at any point you don’t like the way things are going, say the word “Red” loudly, do you understand?” Allison nodded her head “yes” again vigorously. “Take off your pants” Lacey ordered.

Allison took off her pants as fast as she could manage not caring about how clumsy she must have looked while Lacey sat comfortably. “Lay down” Lacey said while pointing. Allison laid down on her back in the spot as told, unsure of what to do with her hands and her legs. “Good bitch” Lacey said “Now close your eyes and I will be back”.

Allison could not remember the last time she felt this nervous. She finally decided to leave her arms to her sides and her legs together. She admitted to herself that she wasn’t sure how she felt about being called a “bitch”, particularly in this context, but she was not about to argue.

Allison heard Lacey return and then she felt her underwear being taken off. A hand gently caressing her legs and then her pussy. “So much pussy juice” she heard Lacey say. Allison felt a finger that wasn’t hers touching her clit in the most pleasurable way for the first time in her life. She bit her lip and she came without much effort on Lacey’s part. Her body convulsing and releasing soft moans out of pleasure. Breathing heavy she opened her eyes to look at Lacey.

Lacey softly slapped her on the face and said quietly:

“Bitch, did I say you could open your eyes?”


Another soft slap “You will address me as Mistress. Is that understood?”


Another slap “Yes what?”

“Yes Mistress”

Lacey softly stroked Allison’s hair “See, isn’t that pleasant?”

“Yes Mistress”

“Good” Just then Lacey grabbed Allison by the hair and Allison suddenly felt wetness on her face and smelled a somewhat familiar aroma.

“Lick bitch” Lacey ordered.

“Yes Mistress!” Allison shouted eagerly into Lacey’s crotch licking wildly.

“Do you not like my pussy? I can’t hear you. Moan you slut!”

Allison was now inaudible but she was moaning and licking like her life depended on it.

Allison then felt a finger playing with her clit and her legs started to shake. The finger then penetrated and began moving in and out.

“You have a tight little pussy, don’t you?”

More noises from Allison.

Lacey was now riding Allison’s face and being as liberal as possible smearing juices all over Allison’s mouth and cheeks; making sure her pussy was being stimulated by every spot she felt like exploring with her clit. Lacey’s right hand held a tight grip on Allison’s hair, her left hand stimulating Allison’s pussy which now had two fingers being thrust in and out of it.

“Don’t you stop, do- ont you d-are f-u-ck-ing st-op” Lacey shouted as she came all over Allison’s face, Allison moaning the whole time. Lacey released her grips and ran her hands from her belly to her breasts to the back of her head moaning and smiling throughout.

Lacey dismounted and slapped Allison on the face a little harder this time “Up bitch, face down, ass in the air.”

Allison moved as fast as she could into the position she was ordered to.

Two fingers found their way back into Allison’s wet and open pussy.

“Fuck my fingers” Lacey ordered.

Allison began moving her torso back and forth feeling the fingers enter and exit each time.

*Smack* Allison felt a hand spank her ass. The sound was loud but it didn’t hurt as much as she expected based on the noise.

“Who’s my bitch?” Lacey asked calmly as if it wasn’t a question.


“I am Mistress”


“Say it” Lacey ordered.


“I’m your bitch Mistress”

“See, was that hard?”

“No Mistress”

Allison felt the fingers come out and felt her body being forced to turn back over. Allison was now on her back, legs spread. Lacey mounted Allison’s face again but this time in the opposite direction. They licked each other until they both came, Lacey humping Allison’s face lavishly, moaning until she was completely satisfied.

After a moment of laying, Lacey got up and grabbed a blanket then put it over Allison. Lacey came back a minute later with a couple of bottles of water and two hard candies; she put one in her mouth and told Allison to have the other “it will help”. She wiped Allison’s face with a moist towel, then Lacey spooned Allison and they slept on the couch the rest of the night.

Allison had never been so satisfied in her life.

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