"BDSM Beach" Pt. 1

Cassie was very horny. Sitting next to her on the plane was a
most attractive medical-school senior named Doug who kept
stealing glances at her chest. Six times he had brought up the
idea of their getting together in Cancun, and he kept trying to
get her hotel address. Cassie Henderson, whose last boyfriend had
thighs the size of Doug's forearms, was having the worst time
keeping her accommodations a secret. She just kept reminding
herself that she was going to Cancun for something better than
sex with a handsome graduate student.

"I'll be right back. I need to use the ladies' room," she said,
getting out of her seat.

Doug grinned. "Need a partner for the Mile-High Club?"

Cassie paused and looked at him. Doug kept grinning, most likely
because he had to look up past her D-cup breasts to make eye
contact.

"No, thanks, I'm going to try to join the club solo."

The shocked look on Doug's face made Cassie giggle. Three steps
later, though, she was blushing. What on earth had made her say
that to him? She wasn't even in Cancun yet, and she was feeling
like a completely different person. The old Cassie, the one who
dated nerds like herself, would never have said such a thing to a
boyfriend, much less a handsome stranger. The old Cassie had had
a hard time admitting to her girlfriends that she masturbated,
and here she was bragging about it. Maybe it had something to do
with the fact that she really was going to the ladies' room to
masturbate.

The bathroom was tiny. She barely had room to turn around,
especially with her rather round ass. The toilet seat looked
clean, but because she was sharing a toilet with a plane full of
other college students on their way to spring break, Cassie
decided to clean it a few times with the flimsy toilet paper. She
debated leaving her pants on while she masturbated, but that felt
like cheating. If Cassie was going to masturbate in a public
restroom, she was going to do it right.

She pulled her pants down to her ankles, along with the
bright-red thong that had come in the mail. She sat down and
spread her thighs as much as the cramped quarters would allow.
Two fingers in her cunt, two fingers on her clit, Cassie began
stroking.

"Oh, God," she moaned. She was startled by the volume of her own
voice. Her cunt was wetter than any time she could remember. For
a moment, she worried that the people in the plane could hear
her, but then she relaxed as she realized that the sounds 100
college students hitting on one another would drown out any noise
she could make. 

Her fingers kept stroking, and Cassie purred at the way her body
was reacting. This whole trip was such a crazy idea, but she
couldn't deny how much her body loved it. Her nipples were hard,
straining against her bra and T-shirt. Inside her shoes, her toes
were curling, and when a strand of blond hair fell across her
mouth, Cassie bit down on the lock just to have something in her
mouth. It was as if her entire body had been rewired into a
machine designed only for orgasms. 

Why shouldn't her body be this way? She had been craving this
trip ever since she'd seen a copy of "The Claiming of Sleeping
Beauty," by Anne Rice, at the bookstore. Cassie had timidly
bought the book after spending an hour reading it in a corner of
the store. In those flowery pages was her first glimpse of the
world of submission and dominance. It also had sex, so much
dirty, naughty, wonderful sex mingled with pain, denial and
cruelty. Cassie had spent her life up to that point reading her
mother's romance novels, and she'd always felt as if there were
something missing from them. With her first BDSM book, she
finally felt as though she had found what her heart, mind and
pussy had been craving.

That first book also gave her her first taste of carpal tunnel
from masturbating. Now, in the bathroom, her technique was much
better. Short, rapid thrusts into her cunt were something she'd
picked up from a story online. Stroking her clit was something
she'd read about in a Black Lace novel about a dominatrix music
teacher. 

In the few short years since she'd first read "Beauty," Cassie
had learned an immense amount about masturbating and fantasies
but damn little about real-life BDSM. As easy as it was to
imagine being a willing submissive slut, it seemed almost
impossible for Cassie to bring it up with her boyfriends. They
were all sweet guys who thought rough sex was when you made the
girl sleep in the wet spot. Cassie could never bring herself to
tell these "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" fans that what she really
wanted in bed was to be slapped till tears ran down her face.
Instead, they licked her cunt while she imagined being held down
by unforgiving leather straps. 
 
Oh, God, I hope he has leather, Cassie thought with a moan. Her
fingers worked faster as her mind drifted to the ad that had led
her to spend her savings on a trip she could barely afford. This
semester, she had decided to skip having a boyfriend and focus on
getting spanked before 2007 was over. She haunted kinky dating
Web sites, read Usenet groups and bought six BDSM dating books as
she worked up the courage to somehow put herself out there on the
Internet in the hope of finding a pervert like herself. Cassie
had not quite been able to bring herself to actually place a
personal ad. Unable to admit her interest to boyfriends and
friends, she found it twice as hard to put herself out in the
Internet where the anonymous world could see.

Then she saw it. A simple advertisement from a dom looking for
newbie submissives to share a beach house during spring break.
Room and board were provided on one condition   obedience.

It was a reckless ad. Everything Cassie had read about safe, sane
and consensual screamed that this kind of an offer was wrong.
Going to a foreign country to serve a man she had never met? It
was crazy. It was ludicrous. That sort of thing turned out well
only in erotica, never in real life.

But it was a chance to explore her submissive side with a man she
had never met and might never meet again. Cassie had responded to
the ad, filled out the questionnaire he sent to her and then put
on the red thong that came with a small handwritten note:
"Masturbate to climax while on the plane."

And here she was, masturbating in the plane's restroom on her way
to spring break. Her parents, who'd searched her bedroom once a
month during high school for drugs and cigarettes, didn't blink
when she told them she was going to Cancun. Her friends, who'd
refused to watch "Bound" with her, encouraged her to get laid a
dozen times. It was as if spring break were some magical free
pass to misbehave; why not use that free pass to do something she
really wanted to do?

She kept stroking her cunt as she pictured what she wanted. She
wanted to be blindfolded and bent over. She wanted to be spanked
till she could take no more and then spanked a whole lot more.
She wanted to whimper like O, moan like Beauty, scream like Mr.
Grey's secretary and climax like Amaya. As her fingers worked her
cunt, Cassie imagined taking each of their places over and over
again.

The climax bloomed inside her. She thought of the dom who had
ordered her to do this, and it sent her over the edge. Cassie's
body shook, and she jammed her fingers into her cunt as harshly
as she could.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes," she whimpered. Masturbating at someone
else's command so much better than doing it by herself.