I tied up her body (but not her heart).
The great thing about a local bar is everyone has already seen you at your most humiliatingly drunk moments. It almost becomes an obligation not to let them down. My “pick up line” is to get drunk at the bar and make wise cracks the entire night. So many people are shy or quiet, even at 1 am at a bar, so my goal is to get them a little fired up. I’ve taken it too far of course, getting into fights, hitting on guy’s girlfriends, offending the bartender (even after tipping her good every night so you know I really must’ve messed up). Not every night, but sometimes, a woman will eye me up and want to know more about the boisterous loudmouth in the corner.
On this one particular night, there were two girls sitting close to me and they were talking amongst themselves, so I butted in. I kept asking them loud questions, loud enough so the entire bar would hear and then turn to hear their answer. I was getting drunk and I was probably being too aggressive, as the one girl turned and with a venomous look said “we are having a private conversation!”
They left and the bartender gave me a dirty look for chasing away customers. No free shots of whiskey for me tonight. That’s when an unassuming looking dark haired girl about mid 30’s sat down next to me. Her face was a little pale and I could tell she wasn’t wearing much make up. She just kind of looked homely, not bad but most girls will glam up more even if just going to a local dive bar. I said hi to her and she responded attentively.
“What’s your name,” I told her mine, “what do you do,” I tell her I do cell phone repair, it’s not even true but I don’t like telling women my real profession. I do tell her I’m a bit of an artist, of erotic literature. She says that sounds interesting. I’m still pissed off the other girls rejected me, and this girl was maybe a 6 or 7 out of ten, so I start going off on women in general.
“Dating apps suck,” I say, knowing that the local dive bar is probably worse. “Why do women care about attractive guys, that doesn’t mean they are good guys, it just means they’ll cheat on you.”
“I think you’re attractive,” she said. A nice deflection and grabbing my attention.
“Okay,” I said, but I really wasn’t that interested and I was getting sloppy drunk. I tried to think of something witty to say to her.
“If you could date anyone in the world, who would it be?” I asked.
“Oh I don’t know, Lady Gaga,” she said.
I spit out my drink. “So you are a lesbian?”
“No, bisexual.”
“Well okay,” I said.
She asked, “do you like coming to this bar”
I took too long coming up with something witty, but eventually managed to say “I come here to find diamonds.”
“What diamonds?”
“Diamonds in the rough, like you.”
“Okay,” she said. I wasn’t sure how she handled that compliment. I was pretty drunk. I set my beer down and tried to clear my head for a bit. I figured she was interested in me so regardless of how she looked I should close the deal.
“So you can come home with me tonight,” I said, and to soften the blow I threw out a corny joke, “So long as you are okay staying in the kitchen.”
I was too focused on my own stupid comment to see her reaction. I was off my game.
“So why do you hate dating apps so much?” she asked.
Ugh, I really didn’t want to talk about this, but I couldn’t help myself. I was feeling cynical because of those two stupid women at the bar. “Let me prove my point. Do you think honesty is a good quality for a man?”
She thought for just a second and then said, “Yes.”
“Okay, so let’s say a man came up to you right now and said “wow you are hot, I would love to have sex with you,” what would you say?
She didn’t say anything.
“He’s being honest, at least.”
“I’d probably say, thanks,” she said.
I didn’t like that answer, I figured she was lying. “Most women would be offended, yet he is being perfectly honest.”
“Well where’s the romance?” She asked with a smile.
“Romance is an illusion, a lie!” I nearly shouted, but by this time everyone at the bar was being drunk and loud so we were having a private chat.
“Fair enough. I can accept that,” she said, a concession! “Well what kind of women are you actually interested in, besides barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen,” she asked.
I figured I should go big or go home, swing for the fences, I was still feeling in a jerk mood. “I just want a woman to do whatever I say.”
“Oh, it’s that easy. Well yes, Sir!”
I laughed at my own joke like a fool, and so didn’t quite get the full impact of what she had just said. But I was feeling more comfortable with her, so I asked her a question I always ask women, a way to get into their psyche and get a glimpse of what kind of person they are,
“Name one thing in the world you really hate?” I asked.
“Oh, I don’t know, I don’t hate anything”
“Something that really annoys you, like really.”
“Well, I don’t like feminism.”
I nearly spilled my beer. “Wait, what? Did you say you hate feminism?” I wanted to make sure I heard her right. “You ARE a diamond.”
“Yes, Sir!”
She said that phrase again, it made me feel weird, but at least I knew what she was all about.
“Come back home with me,” I said.
“I don’t know, I’m tired,” she had a sad look on her face.
“I’ll put you to bed early,” I said. ” I want you tonight.”
“Okay,” she said and gathered up her things. Deal closed, now will I have buyer’s remorse?
I lived close to the bar, she drove but I told her to just leave her car it was fine there. The whole walk home I felt like I was making a mistake, I kept looking back to see if she had a boyfriend chasing after us, but nobody was in sight. I wondered if she had any diseases as she kind of looked unkempt, although it was hard to tell as she wore long shirt and long pants. I was also worried because I couldn’t really see her body. The thought of her being a submissive sounded fun but not really knowing what she looked like naked was maybe a problem. Oh well, as long as she had a vagina I would be happy.
We get back to my place and I get a beer and we sit on the couch. She gets comfortable but I’m worried she will pass out. “So what do you like to do to set the mood?” I asked. I thought she would suggest dim lights or candles but her response shocked me.
“I don’t really know how to do anything in sex, so I just want the man to take over,” she said.
I laughed. “Well we can do that.”
“I know that’s boring”
“No, that’s fine, as long as you’re there.”
I take her to my bedroom and I begin to undress her. I take off her long shirt, and there’s…another shirt underneath. Geez, I was starting to worry this girl was a virgin. I take her under shirt off and she’s not wearing a bra, she has nice perky tits and a surprisingly good body. Her baggy pants remain and for some reason she seems nervous.
I start to rub her chest and breasts but she gets even more nervous. We are standing over the bed.
“Are you a virgin?” I ask.
“No, I just feel awkward during sex. You can tie me up. Just take charge.” She said.
Wow. My boner was racing now. I lay her down on the bed, and she says just make it so she could get free if she wanted. So I take some t-shirts and tie her hands loosely to the bed posts. Her legs are still free. I pull her pants down and her crotch is nicely trimmed with just a little patch. It looks sexy and I’m so glad. I start licking her pussy lips. Running my fingers through her patch of hair. Kissing her thighs. I remind myself that she may pass out so I want to get to business. I mount her and start to push my penis in but I’ve been drinking and have whiskey dick. Yet she was tied up and being submissive, so I relaxed and pushed my dick halfway in her.
I was studying her face and found her to be quite pretty, and I appreciated that she didn’t wear a pound of make up. I asked her if she enjoyed being submissive, and she said yes. I asked her if she would fuck me every morning,
“Yes, I’ll even suck you off while you write erotic fiction.”
My dick got huge and I pushed myself all the way in.
I had broken up with my girlfriend 6 months ago and vowed to not jump into another relationship anytime soon. But the thought of this submissive type made me intrigued. Perhaps the ideal woman I’ve been searching for my whole life is essentially a real life blow up doll. I was kind of impressed how simple the male mind really is.
As I am making love to her she is moaning, and I’m not even wearing a condom, this is the height of abandonment to pleasure and I don’t care what tomorrow brings. If I have to marry this girl right here and now I’d do it, and I’m the type of guy who just yesterday said I’d swear off women for life and stick to masturbating. This is better than masturbating but with just as much control.
I kiss her passionately and could feel her wetness. This is really turning her on and I’m not even doing anything special. Just good old fashioned missionary sex. I feel like she already is mine and I’m in love.
I want to cum inside of her but I’ve done that plenty of times to other women. I pull my dick out and wave it over her face. I take full advantage of the fact that her hands are “tied” up. I lift her buttocks up and start spanking her. I’ve always wanted to try that and she was in the perfect position. I spank her harder and harder as she licks my balls dangling over her face. I am rubbing her pussy, and spanking her, while also rubbing myself. I feel the pressure start to build as I smack her one last time, as hard as I could. I blow my load over her face. She moans in pleasure as she licks my tip. My submissive darling.
After she cleans up we both pass out quickly. Or she did, rather, and I snuggle up against her as we are both naked. She snores most of the night which keeps me up, but that gives me a chance to caress her naked body in her sleep.
I pass out. I wake up with her giving me a kiss, as she turns and walks out the door. I get up and she is already gone. I never asked for her number. But she’ll know where to find me.
That day, I’m thinking about her nonstop. I’m in love with her. I go to the bar, and hope that she is there. I actually went around 4 pm, a little too early for most people, as it was only Tuesday. That night, she doesn’t show up. I’m a little sad but I figure she’s not a regular like me.
I continue to go to the bar every night. I would’ve done that anyways but it is sadder because she’s not there. My hopes perk up a bit come Friday and Saturday. Surely she’ll come here to submit to her man, but she does not show. The weeks go by. I ask around about her, nobody really knows anything about her. She played me. She was the dominant one. I sit at the bar and sometimes imagine her walking through the door. Other nights I’ll try and talk to other women about being submissive, but none seem willing. I lost a diamond. I tied up her body, but not her heart.
All of the characters in this story are over 21 years old and are consenting adults, all names have been changed to protect privacy. For entertainment purposes only.