Dungeons & Dragons

January 27, 2018

 Damien and I met when I was 17. I worked weekends in a local nightclub and he worked week nights in a power plant. He was 8 years older than me, quite shy and very insecure. He was a very attractive guy, or so I thought. Medium height, muscular build, olive skin and dark hair. His insecurities were a mystery to me. Damien and I had a very normal relationship. He would pick me up from work in his sports car, take me to Indie Night at his local club, sneak me in, buy me drinks and drive me back to his house, where he lived with his parents and his younger brothers. He was a lovely guy, very complimentary, couldn't do enough for me, generous and caring, and absolutely fabulous in the sack. 


Damien was completely different to any guy I had been with before, and at 17 that wasn't many at all. In my eyes Damien was a man, much older than me, with experience and wisdom. He lasted for hours, some nights we wouldn't have slept. He could finish and then continue and I often struggled to keep up. Back then, anal was about as adventurous as I had reached, I had no idea about anything else. Anal was already a forbidden fruit for 17 year olds, not many people had experienced it and it wasn't the done thing to do for girls unless you wanted to be branded a slut, but Damien loved it. For a medium built man, his dick did not reflect. It was huge! Still to this day one of the biggest I've had, the girth was literally jaw breaking. Even though the sex was out of this world, there was something always a little bit off about him. He was very mysterious and strange and over a few months this grated onto our relationship causing us to argue and split up. 


4 years later Damien and I reconnected. We both had recently split up from long term relationships and were looking for a bit of fun, with someone familiar, something we knew was good. Since we last spoke he had bought a flat and was planning on moving into it the following weekend, to which I offered my assistance. In my mind I had pictured the helpful friend, moving boxes, putting things away and having great sex on the kitchen counter, christening the place so to say. Damien hadn't changed much over the years, he still looked the same, that muscular build, olive skin and those eyes that were so deep you could drown in them. He upgraded the sports car though, which made the whole process of moving a lot harder. Trip after trip and box after box, we had finally moved his things into his new 1 and a half bedroom flat. The rooms still smelt of paint and there were no home furnishings like lampshades or curtains, but we made do, ordering a pizza and grabbing a bottle of wine to toast to his fist night.


As I lay on the sofa drinking wine, he sat next to me on the piano. Damien had many talents, he was artistic and creative, he moulded and painted his own figures for a mythical game he played. Most people don't understand the amount of skill that goes into mastering the art, they presume it's just a fantasy game for lonely, unattractive men, to which films have portrayed, but the half of a room was going to be his studio.Thinking back to that moment, it was actually quite romantic, the TV wasn't set up so we relied on each other for amusement, he played and I listened. Something about watching him channel his energy into playing, the way his hands slid across the keys and the way he looked at me. He felt it too, Damien stopped playing mid composition and proceeded to play with something of mine. 


We spent the whole night together, doing what we did best and rekindled our flame over the next few days whilst we were texting. He invited me back over to spend the night but wanted to talk face to face. I was a bit confused, was he going to tell me this is just to remain a friends with benefits situation? Does he want more? Did I want more? The drive over to his was quiet with minimal conversation and quick glances. As he opened the door to his flat the smell of paint was no longer there, the furniture had been set up and it looked homely. A lot had changed from the previous week, the lounge was tidy and everything had a place. I sat nervously on the sofa as he made the tea, my heart was pounding, I had no idea what he wanted to talk about, had I done something wrong? Was he angry at me? He wore his poker face, giving no indication of whether he was in a good mood or bad. He sat on the sofa next to me and reviewed the past week, saying how we had connected again, how we had both grown up and he could see a future between us. But he needed to be honest with me.


Honest about what?


He told me to keep and open mind, and I thought oh great, he probably has a girlfriend, another guy who wants to live out his fantasy with two women. He grabbed his keys from the kitchen side and gave them to me, telling me to go into the bedroom.  One of the keys was to the lock he had installed on the top of the door, admittedly I had trouble reaching, whether it was because I was scared or nervous, but the lock didn't open easily and he needed to help me. The room was dark when I opened the door, the black out curtains let not even the smallest bit of light in. The switch for the main light had been disconnect. Damien stood in the doorway and told me to turn on the bedside lamp. As I did it illuminated the dark red room.The bed was just a wooden frame and a mattress, no pillows or duvets and as I turned around, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.


Hung on the walls like trophies were whips of all sorts, wrist and ankle cuffs, blindfolds, gags, masks and ropes. I was speechless. No word of a lie, Damien could have been the original Mr Grey, without the flashy job and haunting childhood. Just a dingy flat in an average part of town, housing a sex dungeon. As I sat on the bare mattress Damien joined me, he explained to me that he and his ex-girlfriend had a dominant and submissive relationship and it ended because she didn't want that any more, but he did. There were things he wanted to do which she didn't, he wasn't ready to chuck in the towel and go back to a "normal" relationship - his words. I couldn't look at him, I just kept looking at the accessories all meticulously placed on the walls. Wondering what some were for, how they were used. I still wasn't familiar about what a submissive was, what it entailed, but he grabbed my head in his hands and kissed me with such force and passion, that I had never felt from a man before, and told me he wanted me to be his sub...







...to be continued. 






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