ja**** Posted August 5 We were assigned to a project in Manila, Philippines. I was young and restless, full of potential, full of ego, and full of that dangerous kind of hunger that doesn’t yet know what it’s hungry for. A week into the assignment, after long meetings and expensive wine, the buzz of the city had worn thin. We were all tired of pretending to care about things that didn’t matter. I didn’t socialize much. My work kept me at a distance. And truthfully, I preferred it that way. But that night, I joined the group at a local bar, a small, dimly lit place just far enough from the hotel to feel like an escape. She was already there when I arrived. She didn’t speak much at first. She listened. She watched. There was something quiet in her presence, but not passive. Contained. She didn’t seek attention. She didn’t need to. And maybe that’s why I couldn’t stop noticing her. She was older, elegant, but not in the obvious ways. There was a calmness to her I didn’t yet understand. I found myself looking for excuses to be near her, to say something that might hold her attention for longer than a polite nod. I tried. I tried in all the foolish, transparent ways young men try when they’re standing in front of a woman who clearly sees through them. I made clever remarks. I name-dropped books and places I barely remembered. I offered up pieces of myself like samples on a tray, hoping one might interest her. Nothing landed. At some point, the conversation turned to literature, and without thinking, genuinely not thinking, I made a passing reference to Justine by the Marquis de Sade. A half-joke, maybe. Not directed at anyone. Definitely not meant to impress. But then her head turned slowly, and her eyes fixed on mine. Something shifted. “You’ve read de Sade?” she asked. I shrugged. “Not everything. Just enough to feel slightly disturbed.” For the first time that night, she smiled. A real one. “That’s the only honest way to read him,” she said. And just like that, the temperature between us changed. We didn’t speak much after that. She stood, said her goodnights, and disappeared into the night like it didn’t owe her anything. The next evening, after another long day, I was walking down the hotel corridor when I saw her again, passing me slowly, deliberately. She didn’t stop. But just as she turned the corner, her door opened. Then closed again. Not fully. An invitation. I stood there, heart racing, wondering if I’d imagined it. I knocked once, lightly. The door opened. Her room was quiet. Warm. The light was low. She had already changed into something soft, satin maybe, but simple. Her hair was pinned up. There was a silver-handled hairbrush on the table, positioned deliberately. Not forgotten. Placed. “I don’t usually bother with people your age,” she said, without turning around. “Too much performance. Not enough presence.” “I wasn’t trying to perform,” I replied. “You were,” she said, turning to face me. “But not for the wrong reasons.” What happened that night wasn’t wild. It was precise. She taught me that domination wasn’t about volume or costume or control for its own sake. It was about patience. Ritual. Awareness. Her version of BDSM was the old-world kind, more discipline than display, more presence than power. She didn’t order me around like I was beneath her. She guided me like she expected me to rise to her level. The hairbrush didn’t scare me. What scared me was how much I wanted to understand what she was showing me. How ready I was to give up control without fully knowing why. *** was part of it, yes. But it was shaped. Sculpted. Every stroke was deliberate, followed by silence that made my skin ache for the next one. She didn’t ask me to speak, and I didn’t need to. She could read everything she needed in the way I breathed. It wasn’t sex. It was something else. A lesson. A connection. A moment where someone older, wiser, and far more composed decided to open a door for me. And when it was done, she didn’t ask for anything. She simply kissed me on the forehead as I stood at the edge of her bed, breathless and changed. “You’ll forget the names of your lovers,” she whispered. “But not this.” She was right. That night, the lioness did not hunt. She waited. And the deer, trembling, reckless, eager, walked willingly into her mouth.
En**** Posted August 5 Lovely read though I don't think he hunted her. She, seems more of an opportunistic predator.
ja**** Posted August 5 Author 3 minutes ago, Enemeldee said: Lovely read though I don't think he hunted her. She, seems more of an opportunistic predator. That’s based on a true story, and no ma’am he tried to hunt her in all ways possible, and after long and frustrating delays and denial finally he had the chance to surrender willingly.. she wasn’t a predator she was just making him look to the world as she saw it
ja**** Posted August 5 Author 7 minutes ago, Rockstone83 said: What a fantasy... 👏🏻 Wasn’t a fantasy, there is truth hiding in the dramatic lines
ja**** Posted August 5 Author 3 minutes ago, Batmanlover86 said: Was this you or just something that was told to u? That was me. However it didn’t go exactly like this.. there is too much happened and there is too much things I wish it didn’t happen.. but overall that was my first encounter with BdSm
ja**** Posted August 5 Author 3 minutes ago, Batmanlover86 said: Oh wow. I'm sorry to hear that. I love reading real life stories. Basically all of my stories are based or inspired by my experiences .. I just shift the tone or add some dramatic context to make it not so graphically accurate
ja**** Posted August 5 Author 3 minutes ago, Batmanlover86 said: I like that. I'll definitely have to read some more Promise you’ll enjoy it.. just be patient and read through it
Ro**** Posted August 5 1 hour ago, jaykkolins said: Wasn’t a fantasy, there is truth hiding in the dramatic lines My fantasy. I'm so glad/jealous it happened to you 🤤
ja**** Posted August 5 Author 3 minutes ago, Rockstone83 said: My fantasy. I'm so glad/jealous it happened to you 🤤 Hopefully you will, although we both wanting the same thing right now
ja**** Posted August 5 Author 1 hour ago, sinasinn said: Have fun It was long time ago, all the fun was gone 😁
ja**** Posted August 6 Author 23 hours ago, Batmanlover86 said: Oh wow. I'm sorry to hear that. I love reading real life stories. Just replying on your status, we can’t message you because you have this message and comments filter so we can’t message you
ja**** Posted August 6 Author 1 minute ago, Batmanlover86 said: How do I fix that? Go to settings, messages and comment and remove the filter Please note: every one could message you or you can add the ones you need to talk to as a freinds
ja**** Posted August 22 Author 1 hour ago, goldenretrievergf said: Oh, that was lovely 🖤 It was! Sadly
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