Going in Blind

One...

Tristen held the clipboard in her hand and took a seat. Gripping the pen tightly, she looked over the extensive forms. Preferences, safe words. Hard stops. She knew it all, had done her research. She wanted this.

So why was she so nervous?

Her therapist had recommended it. Said it may be helpful for her "problem." That it may be a way to ease her mind. Relax her. And give her what she needed from someone with no strings.

It was certainly expensive. And if her parents knew what they were really paying for, there's no way in hell it would have been funded. They were still somewhat reluctant to pay for therapy. She hid the real reason that she went.

Finished the questionnaire, she took a breath and stood, returning it to the girl behind the window and took a small ticket with a number and returned to her seat. She had no idea what to expect, and nerves set in.

She knew the rules. She knew her limits. But going in blind made her nervous. That she'd never know the person behind it. Would they silently judge her? Think she was a freak for being there?

Others certainly would. And that's why it was her deep, dark secret. Only her therapist and her roommate Els knew that she'd come here. They were the only ones who wouldn't judge her.

"Number 32," she heard and swallowed, standing as a woman appeared, directing her to a nondescript black door. "Go in and strip. Grab the black mask, cover your eyes," she instructed and Tristen nodded. "Get into position and he'll be with you shortly."

Tristen did as asked, slowly stripping her clothes, neatly folding them and setting them on the table. She grabbed the black velvet mask, running her finger along it before pulling it over her head. She eyed the instruments hanging on the wall. Paddles in every shape and size.

She wondered what he'd use, how easy or hard he'd go on her. It wasn't her first time, but she felt her stomach turn. Was she doing the right thing?

She moved toward the stool and laid over it, her ass in the air and pulled the mask over her eyes. And waited.

The lock clicked a few minutes later and the scent of his cologne overwhelmed her. "I'm James," he said softly, moving toward her. "Do you have a name I can call you?" She swallowed, her throat dry. "J-Joy...," she stuttered, choosing her middle name.

"Joy...," he repeated. His voice was warm, like honey and it made her body heat up. "May I touch you?," he asked and she nodded. "Words, sweetheart," he said, "I need words in here. Confirmation, denial. Doesn't matter." She nodded again.

"Yes, you may."

He hummed in approval and trailed his fingers down her back. "Can you tell me why you're here?" She cleared her throat again. "I...I need to be spanked," she said quietly, her cheeks heating up. She felt him kneel behind her, his hands now caressing her ass.

"Do you need to be punished?," he asked, his voice low and she nodded again. "Words, Angel. You need to use them," he said, giving her right cheek a hard squeeze. She gasped, immediately turned on. "Yes, Sir. I need to be punished."

He chuckled a bit and squeezed the left side. "That's a good girl. Let's get the blood flowin', hmm?"

She nodded, so desperate for relief. Her body buzzed. "We'll do colors, okay? Do you know the system?," he said softly and Tristen nodded. "Yes, Sir," she whispered. "Good. And your safe word, Angel?"

"Silver."

She didn't know what to expect. He was completely silent for a moment. She barely had time to register when he landed the first blow. It was hard enough to make her cry out, her back arching.

"Good girl...," he whispered, his lips to her ear. No word before the second came down, equally as hard as the first. She cried out again and she could feel her wetness drip down her thighs. This. This is what she needed.

"Have you been bad?," he cooed, his hand soothing the marks he'd left and she nodded. He pulled her hair, yanking her back just enough and his lips brushed over her ear. "What did I say about words?"

"Ye-yes, S-Sir...," She stuttered, already close to a release. She wanted him to touch her so badly, push her over the edge that she was teetering on. "Yes, Sir," she said a bit more confidently, "I've been bad."

Two blows in quick succession and she let out a moan that had Bucky immediately hard as a rock. No one had ever had that effect on him in this room.

And he knew why.

"Doing so well...," he whispered, "color, Angel." She let out a soft breath and leaned back a bit, desperate for more. "Green, Sir. It's green." He hummed in approval before landing four more blows.

The redness of her ass cheeks somehow made him harder. He twitched in his jeans and he was so desperate to touch himself. To touch her. "You're close...," he breathed and she nodded, muttering a soft 'Yes, Sir.' "Would you like me to help you out?"

She whined, nodding furiously. "Yes, Sir," she panted and his fingers quickly moved to her wet folds. He bit back a moan and pushed two inside her dripping core. Her walls fluttered around him and he briefly imagined what she'd feel like around his cock.

Two more hard blows to her ass, combined with the way his dexterous fingers worked her cunt, she came.

Loud, long.

The sound ripped from her throat and he knew it would be forever etched into his memory. It tore through him, reverberating and causing him, for the first time since adolescence, to cum in his pants.

"Color, sweetheart," he panted, and her head dropped. "Green, Sir. God, so fucking green." He bit his lip and pulled back, helping her to her feet. "You did so well, Angel," he said, and he couldn't keep the smile from his face.

Leading her into the next room, giving her the aftercare she needed, he held her until she'd calmed. Eventually, he helped her back to her feet and dressed. "You'll exit back out, put the mask in the dropbox and head back to the lobby," he instructed and she nodded.

He hated that it was over, watching her go with an ache in his heart. "Thank you, James," she said softly as he opened the door to usher her in. "Just doing my job...Joy," he smiled. Tristen. God. How'd he get so lucky?

And how in the hell was he going to be able to face her Monday morning?