Late Night Hookup Pt. 02

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It had been months since Charlotte had had her deeply secret, late night hookup. For weeks, she was barely able to think back about her intense adventure. She wasn’t sure at all that this was what she had actually wanted. Sure, she had fantasized about being dominated sexually, but the memories of what happened there in that apartment, with that extremely demanding woman, who objectified her, humiliated her, even fucked her relentlessly, made her face flush in deep shame to this day. Yes, she couldn’t deny that that she got weirdly aroused by the whole adventure, at the time, and the gorgeous blonde had even masturbated a few times afterwards, to the idea of what happened, and what could happen if she did it again, but it was just too much. too much at once, while completely unprepared, and not having a clear idea at all about what she would or would not indulge in. It even felt as if the woman had taken advantage of her. Of her naivety, of her lack of experience. She hated that thought. It was shameful to realize that she had let that happen.

“Hey baby, whats up. Up for some fun tonite? Msg me”

She had gotten a message from that woman, that “DommeKath” or whatever her name was, a week after that night she wished not to think about ever again, but she had flat out ignored it.

Lately, however, her sex drive again took the better of her. She wanted more adventure. And she figured there would be safer ways to do it. Better ways. With better people. With people who respected her lack of experience, and who’d take things slower. People who wouldn’t take advantage of her like that woman had clearly done. Still, she had felt reluctant about even logging into that F4F dating app again. She had only logged in once after it happened, and that was just to deactivate her profile.

Then one night, she just couldn’t help herself. What was the worst that could happen? She just reactivated her profile, and while she felt that urge in her body again, she started going through profiles.

Everything was there. From vanilla to hardcore BDSM types to outrageous fetishists having pictures on their profiles that made her eyebrows raise. She hadn’t looked that far when she first got on there.

Would she want a vanilla encounter, perhaps? It would at least be, well, not as overwhelming as what she had experienced. She tried to imagine it, but discovered quickly that that was not what she was really feeling.

Her mind wandered off once again as she scrolled through some kinkier profiles. One profile in particular caught her eye. “Mistress Muriel” was her name, and her profile told her that she was a ‘soft Domme’, that she had 20 years of experience in BDSM, and described her style as “caring and respectful”. That certainly sounded a lot better than what Charlotte had indulged in.

It took a few more days before she had overcome her reluctance of actually getting into yet another adventure, but once her curiosity triumphed yet again, she took the chance of at least sending her a message. She had told herself to take things slow this time, and at least this person seemed respectful enough to reach out to.

She went on and wrote an honest message, about how her profile had intrigued her, that she wasn’t very experienced apart from a little adventure, that she would like to know more and asked whether she didn’t mind her lack of experience.

She received a reply the next day. At first she had grinned about the woman calling her “Little one,” and how she was open to “new subs”. But what followed was a whole rant about how she would then apparently “train” her, and when she would earn her respect and love, she would be “collared”, whatever that meant.

It was very obvious that this woman was very deep into that whole thing, and was probably not looking for a little adventure.

But she did answer, giving her the benefit of doubt, although she wasn’t entirely sure that this was what she was looking for either. She replied that she was curious about what that training looked like, that this lifestyle thing fascinated her but that she wasn’t sure what she had meant by collaring her, but that she was also looking for a discrete date now and then, rather than a full on “lifestyle relationship” as the woman had called it.

The reply that she got after that baffled her. The woman literally scolded her for not knowing what she wanted, that she had to show some respect, that the adventure she had had was ‘probably fake anyway’, that she didn’t know what being submissive even meant, all phrased in a way as if she knew it all and Charlotte knew nothing.

She read it in disbelief, and for a minute, she even took it personally. She even felt the urge to reply that she was sorry, but it was only then that she just got angry at her, and ignored her completely. So far for trying something else. With her stupid collar, her D/s whatever, and her accusations. God. But she left it there without responding, and without even getting back on that bartın escort app.

The days following, she felt extremely frustrated. Not only because of the reply she had gotten, but it seemed as if with that reply, her sexual frustration had only grown worse, and that night it reached yet another peak.

Should she just reach out to that DommeKath person again? She knew what she could expect from her now after all. Well, not completely, but at least she had an idea. She even allowed memories of that night back into her mind. She masturbated furiously to those memories under the shower, leaning with her one hand against the bathroom wall, and delivered a hard slap on her own round, perfect ass, in a way trying to relive that experience on her own.

“Arch that back, slut… ” she mumbled, repeating what the woman had said to her at some point, and moved her hand between her legs, rubbing herself, as she gave herself yet another hard slap on her ass, “dirty whore…” she whispered as she then couldn’t contain herself anymore, and masturbated herself to an orgasm that made her head spin.

It was as if all the pent up energy of these last weeks just had to get out. As if she was finally able to be honest towards herself about actually deeply enjoying what happened that night.

But while she was able to let go of her inhibitions, and as relieved as that orgasm had made her feel, her frustration stayed. She wanted more. She wanted kinky. She wanted rough.

Sitting on the couch with her towel still wrapped around her body, she then scrolled through her older messages, towards the message Kath had sent her months ago. She hesitated, but only because she thought it might be impolite to reply to that message only months later. How would she react? She practically ghosted the woman.

But what did she have to lose? But then again, what if the woman didn’t want to talk to her anymore? In her current mindset, she’d even hate being rejected by her. She was crazy turned on.

“Hey, sorry for not texting, have been kinda busy -“

As she started typing, she felt the adrenaline rush through her body, and right then and there she wanted to touch herself again as she continued typing.

“Up for some fun again soon if you are ;)”

She felt her face flush as she typed it. She knew she was offering herself to that same woman that she had cursed, despised, while buried in her own shame. But the itch between her legs and the thoughts racing through her restless mind defeated all morals and inhibitions.

She felt tense as she was still looking at the screen, and already saw that Kath was typing a reply. The idea that she had read her message was now even thrilling.

“Mmm hi little slut… what kinda fun you looking for”

She received a first message, but saw that Kath was typing yet again, and Charlotte just waited. Apparently she hadn’t minded at all that she had ghosted her for quite a while.

“How ’bout we try some paid fun, bet you like it… up for it? little whore xx”

Charlotte’s eyes were fixated on the screen, and her thoughts ran off, while that itch only got worse. Paid fun. Oh, she remembered very well how the woman had mentioned it before. She had mentioned it even before she left Kath’s apartment that overwhelming night. She actually had called it ‘that pimping thing’. Those words. But she knew she would be a hypocrite if she denied that even those words, and that whole idea, turned her on. She had whispered it to herself just minutes ago in the shower.

At that moment, Charlotte was just a ball of sexual fire, unable to even keep her hands off herself while reading that message again. She wanted adventure, and the prospect of that being within immediate reach drove her crazy.

“I guess I can try it…?” she then texted back, still careful, but clearly feeling the rush in her body even thinking about it.

The woman did not answer for a while, which drove Charlotte even crazier. Had she read the message? Was she expecting a different answer? Should she just propose that instead she just wanted a similar adventure to what she had already experienced? But no, her body told her clearly that she was up for new adventures, despite her earlier inhibitions. Perhaps even being turned off so greatly by that so called “Mistress Muriel”, or whatever the name of that stuck up bitch was, made her long for something uncomplicated and kinky even more. She didn’t need acceptance of those sorts of people. And what was the harm in it, when despite her inhibitions and shame, she had clearly really enjoyed that night at Kath’s apartment in retrospect? She told herself that she had just been afraid of herself, and that her fear would only get in the way of what she really wanted.

“Keep Friday night free xx”

That’s all she texted. Friday night. That was two nights away. It was going to happen. She was going to have another kinky adventure. She didn’t know what exactly, bartın escort bayan but based on her earlier experience with the same woman, she knew that it was going to be a thrill, one way or another. And that was what she wanted.

Charlotte did want to ask more, about whether the plan was for her to come over to Kath’s place again, about what that “paid fun” meant exactly, about what was going to be expected from her next Friday. But she didn’t. Perhaps she didn’t want to know just yet, as it allowed her fantasies to wander free, without having to worry about what it actually was that Kath got in store for her.

“Okay… looking forward to it. 🙂 xx”

Charlotte re-read her reply after she sent it, and while she just meant it playfully while being carried away in her arousal, she wasn’t sure she should have replied that way. Did she sound too eager? Too naive? And did she just confess to that woman who exploited her so intensely, that she had been appreciating it, even while she had been feeling ashamed and even slightly angry for months because of it?

But Kath did not seem to care, as was evident from her follow up text, about an hour after she sent her last message, giving her thoughts plenty of time to wander off, barely able to leave her hands off her own body while trying to imagine what was going to be in store for her.

“Friday 9PM. U can bring the outfit u wore last time. Where can i pick u up?”

Charlotte’s heart skipped a beat, as she realized this was actually going to happen. Images of the scandalously sexy outfit she had been wearing while visiting Kath a few months ago, and which she had thrown in a dark corner of her closet ever since, flashed through her mind. She had not been able to even look at it, the thought was just too confronting.

But the last part of that simple message had her confused a bit. Pick her up? Kath was looking to pick her up somewhere next Friday? Was she implying she was going to give Kath her address? That felt a bit dangerous, even though she was tempted to just give it. She clearly wanted this, but at the same time her paranoia about having her privacy invaded kicked in. She had appreciated the discretion around her first visit, and she felt reluctant to just give that up, while at the same time not wanting to miss out on the prospect of a new adventure.

“Can you pick me up at the corner of Wells and Chestnut street? And do I just bring the outfit or wear it?”

It even felt slightly dangerous to give Kath a spot near where she lived. The idea of this woman somehow getting near her real life made her feel somewhat uncomfortable. But she told herself not to be so paranoid. This was about fun after all, and that’s clearly also what Kath was looking for.

“OK. U can change later, wear what u want, something easy to take off.”

So it was settled. She was going to go and meet this woman again, now that her sexual, perverted cravings got the better of her. And for a second, she felt something resembling panic. Wasn’t it better if all of this just remained a fantasy? Was she really going to allow herself to get into one of those encounters again, and possibly regret it for months after, just like what happened last time? But it felt as if it was too late to change her mind now, having already promised Kath that she was up for it, and even gave her the location of a spot near her place.

“Tell me ur going to be a good little whore”

Charlotte’s face flushed. There it was again. The sort of language that was just so crazy perverted, even humiliating to some extent, but which turned her on so immensely. It was almost as if Kath was in the room, controlling her, demanding an answer. She remembered those eyes clearly now, that pushy attitude that wouldn’t let her get away with anything.

“I’m going to be a good little whore”

Her fingers trembled slightly as she typed it. That feeling of obedience she had felt while she was over at her place, and which she had imagined afterwards when she was in the shower by herself, leading to one intense orgasm after another. But the real thing, as even typing that text felt, was already feeling more intense.

“Mmm yea u better be. See u friday, slut.”

Charlotte could barely contain herself. She couldn’t think of anything else anymore, even though her mind was caught in a strange blend of doubt and excitement.

The day following, Charlotte was exceptionally cheery while at the office where she worked, contrasting with the weeks before where she had been absent minded, and touchy. Not that day. Her mood swing had seemed so obvious, that at some point a colleague asked her whether she was dating someone. Charlotte had been blushing slightly, and had playfully answered that maybe this was the case. Despite her nerves, it had been as if a weight had fallen off her shoulders. The burden of shame.

Later that day, she felt her phone buzz in her back pocket, and escort bartın seeing on the screen that it was a message from Kath, she quickly hunched to make sure no one was able to see it while she read it.

“Dont forget to wear slut makeup”

It was followed by a link, which Charlotte decided to open later, in the privacy of her own house, even though she could barely resist. But what if her phone suddenly started to make porn sounds? There was no way something like that was going to happen.

Once home that night, she blinked as she opened the link, showing her a picture of some girl with an almost ridiculous amount of makeup on her face. Glossy pink lips, dark eyeliner giving her eyes some sort of cat eye look, an exaggerated amount of blush and foundation making her face look barely natural. It was just screaming ‘porn’. That was not Charlotte’s style at all. Sure, she used makeup, but she always used it in such a way that it would look natural while highlighting her facial traits. But apparently, Kath insisted, and she didn’t even know how to argue with a demand like that if she wanted to.

Charlotte didn’t respond to the last message, but she promised herself she would give it a shot.

The next morning, after a somewhat restless night, Charlotte could barely concentrate at work. It felt as if her colleagues even knew she was hiding a secret from them, even though no one had a clue. She was glad to have the afternoon off, needing the space around her, even though thinking too much about finally meeting Kath again that night drove her crazy, both in good and bad ways.

It was only then that she collected that sexy, slutty outfit from the deep away corner of her closet where she hid it, for the first time since that intense adventure. Fishing the black stockings and garter belt and holding them up took her right back to that night, back to the overwhelming entrance with that bossy woman who had insisted that her thong needed to go immediately, to that same woman who made her practically worship her body in such kinky ways. That woman who completely dominated her, and fucked her in such an unspeakable way.

Even looking at these clothes, at the thong, the bra, and especially the super high platform heels that she had bought especially for the occasion, now made her mind fill up with shame again, and even more so when realizing she was going to do it again. She was going to allow herself to dive head first into something incredibly kinky, into unknown territory, into something possibly even more edgy than what she experienced the first time.

While she was freshening up that sexy outfit, she just could not stop thinking, and had to try hard to not panic a few times. How serious was this “paid” thing anyway? And where exactly was Kath taking her to? Was she even sure she wanted to do this? Could she not have suggested that she did not want to try that, but just come over to Kath’s place again? And then what would have happened? Would Kath have been open to it, and wouldn’t that have been a much safer choice? Why did she jump on the first thing Kath suggested?

Even after Charlotte took a light meal that night, the unrest in her mind continued, and even the warm shower she took, which had been relaxing her and sending her right back into that kinky fantasy world so many times in the last few weeks, did not work that night. She felt slightly stressed, and had to tell herself repeatedly that it was going to be fun, that she should drop her inhibitions once more, and just let go of all the worries.

After having groomed herself and having gotten into comfy clothes – blue Adidas track pants and a white shirt, with easy, comfortable underwear – she took another look at that dreaded picture Kath had sent her, before starting to work on her makeup.

Surprisingly, putting on her makeup and gradually applying more and more, seeing her own transformation in the mirror while her face was turning into that of some kind of porn girl, got her in the mood somehow. It was as if she was putting on a mask, as if hiding her real self, and assuming some kind of slutty identity. The thought comforted her. In a way, she imagined, the real Charlotte would not be recognizable.

Watching herself in the mirror, the dark blue eye shadow that she had barely used before put on so heavily that it could hardly be called natural, the eye liner drawn to accentuate her eyes in a slightly exaggerated way, her eye lashes colored in a dark black, contrasting with her pale complexity, her lips covered in an explicit pink gloss, the combination of the slight amount of foundation and clearly visible blush making her face look almost like that of a doll, she grinned for a second. This was on the verge of being just silly, especially in contrast with her comfy, casual clothes.

She continued her makeover by carefully painting both her finger and toe nails in a bright pink color. She promised herself to remove it once this adventure was over and not leave any traces for when she’d be at the office again.

At 8:45, Charlotte decided it was time to get ready and leave her apartment, her nerves rising to sky high levels. She realized that Kath was probably already be on her way, and she felt the adrenaline rushing through her body increase.

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