Chapter 3 Submission

If you want to see how I looked in those old Red Light Center days, go to my pics. Like the bangs?
FD was German. I'll be using initials, by the way, for everyone I virtually knew, and even some of those may be changed. I don't know yet how candid I will be, how many bridges I might want to burn, but I won't name names. Not full names. I've never done this before for public consumption, and it should be interesting to balance my interest in telling the truth with not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings. How bold will I be? Should I let the chips fall where they may or be the soul of discretion?
But back to FD. If you'll recall, when we last saw him, he was standing over me with a whip. Standing over poor little me, blue-eyed and snowy white, dangling from a rope, bound hand and foot in the center of a crowd of horny and vulgar men. I was utterly helpless and exposed at that moment, and he made the most of it. He ignored my pleas for mercy. He began slowly, almost gently, and I felt a connection almost immediately. This man is paying attention, I thought, and wants to please me. He's firm. He's masculine. He knows what he wants, and he's not afraid to take it, but he pays attention. He's playing me. My response means something to him, and he plays to it. I was bound, whipped, and penetrated, but even while still suspended, still under the lash, still violated, I began to feel a certain tenderness towards him.
The moment I had the freedom to stand, I asked him, right in front of everyone, to be my master. I used my best high voice. "Please, please, sir, will you be my master? I so want to be your slave." And you might wonder at this point, if you haven't already, can I really feel tender and be so manipulative at the same time? Yes. Why not? And besides, I wanted to please him. I liked him already, just from how he'd whipped me. We hadn't yet really spoken. We didn't really know each other, despite the connection I felt, and so it was prudent on his part, a good sign, that he said he had to test me first. It also proved to be exciting.
He recruited two of those horny and vulgar guys who'd watched him beat me and took me to a room that would hold four people. There were no threesomes on RLC at the time, so I had to screw the two guys one at a time. That was the test. They fucked me and he watched. No bondage. That privilege was reserved for him. When they were done, after a little man talk in front of me about how hot I was, he told them to leave and took me to yet another room, one just for two. I already suspected his extremes: rough passion, sentimental tenderness. German vulgarity and romanticism. He had the cutest accent, and when he wanted to cuddle and say sweet things to me, I was captivated. Later, when I was in the hotel lobby and thought he'd gone, he came back and told me he wanted a kiss to make my submission to him official. Some guy with wings began to harrass us, and as we kissed I asked FD if he would always protect me, and he said he would.

Chapter 4 An Angle

I think of that night with FD as the real beginning of my virtual life. It would still be over a week before I became a working girl, but that night convinced me that just wandering around and fucking any Tom, Dick or Harry who might come along wouldn't do. I needed more than that. At the very least I needed what reporters might call an angle, and it was up to me to invent it.
My favorite place in RLC has always been The Bareback Bordello. It's like an enclosed courtyard with dancing in the center and rooms all around. The day after I met FD I went there wearing nothing but panties and high heel sandals. I never had a tattoo. Never a tan. Just pierced nipples. Simple rings that glittered a little like diamonds. I stood in front of one of the bondage rooms and waited to see who might come along, and my story changed depending upon my mood. It also improved with time, as stories will. Ultimately, I was telling anyone who approached me that I was there waiting for my master, and that I could do nothing without his permission.
Meanwhile, FD and I settled into a routine that was much like our first night together. We would seek out excitement with other people, then find a room where we could be alone and where FD could make love to me, which he did exquisitely. I've never known anyone better at combining romance with pushing the limits. On our second date, as we relaxed in a pool just before saying good night, he ventured the opinion that we made a lovely couple. "But you'll get tired of me sooner or later," I told him. "That's how men are." Insecure submissive women are supposed to say that. They always do in movies. And FD, my hero for the moment, knew his lines. "I could never get tired of you," he said. "I'm not like most men."
Our agreement in regard to other people was that anything went when FD wasn't on line, but of course that's not what I told those other people. As everyone knows, when we can't have something, we want it all the more, and during the next few days, from my post in the Bordello, I began to attract a small crowd of guys who decided they wanted me. Some wanted to be my master. One even threatened to kill FD. He was drunk, I assume, but it still thrilled me that I could arouse such strong feelings. Others promised not to tell my master if I'd just submit to them once, and still others just wanted to chat, so they said. It was great fun, and at the same time I was improving my teasing skills, which would help tremendously once I turned professional.