Vanilla

Vanilla

J.A. Bailey

Author’s note

This story is a thank you to my fans. I have some amazingly
supportive fans who continue to stick by me and read all my stories. I never
dreamed people would be so interested in reading my books and I am still blown
away that people take the time to purchase and read them. The vast majority of
my stories are from my imagination but this one is different. I often get asked
how I discovered BDSM and this is my story. I hope to expand on it one day but
this is the tale of my first experience of D/s. Names/locales have been changed
but the essence is there. I hope you enjoy it!

Copyright 2013 ©J. A. Bailey

All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without
written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical
articles and reviews.

This is a work of
fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, organisations, or persons, living or
dead, is entirely coincidental.

Vanilla

“Addy! Please tell me you'll come with me. It might do you some
good to get out and meet new people, not to mention break out of that vanilla
shell of yours...”

“Vanilla? Now you're
comparing me to a flavouring?”

“NO! Come on, you know what
I mean. You've been in what, four relationships and had maybe half a dozen
total sexual partners?”

“What does that have to do
with anything?”

This was my life. Back and
forth, side to side, with my best friend Loren. She was what I like to call a
sexual deviant. Getting involved with all sorts of things I would never dream
of: suspension, latex, breath play, she even told me one instance where her partner
shoved his entire fist… never mind, I don't even want to think about that.

We'd been friends since we
were kids. And when we entered high school, she was the first one of us to lose
their virginity. She bragged around school later that she had slept with an
older guy, a real sports fanatic, and that it didn't really hurt because he was
small (from the steroids). I knew otherwise, however, because the girl had been
masturbating since she was eleven and used her curling iron regularly.

I was, of course, the last
it seemed in my graduating class. It's not like I was religious or anything, or
really thought there was a value to my virginity, I just didn't want to sleep
with anyone. Love or not, I wanted it to be right, and it be the right time and
be fully ready for the experience.

That experience came quickly
after I started college. Bryan was my first and it seemed we were on the right
track. We’d been dating for two months and when I was ready he was very
encouraging and gentle, not like most experienced boys it seemed with girls.
And, he actually stuck around afterwards, something that shocked me.

We dated for three months
after that. However, during one of our times together, something happened that
freaked him out, to the point he didn’t want to see me again. (WTH happened?) I
was devastated and heartbroken. While I wouldn’t say I was in love with him, I
had developed feelings for him, but I quickly realized that I was young and
shouldn’t let one guy bring me down. Besides which, there had always been
something missing during our times together. I put it down to our inexperience.

And here we are today, my
best friend asking me to go to a fetish ball with her. She was right though; I
did need to get out and date new people. Give up the dating sites and bar and
actually meet someone interesting, maybe even another newcomer that really
wasn’t into such things and was coerced to go as well.

Loren got down on her knees,
clasping her hands in front of her in prayer. “Pretty, please?”

I sighed. Defeated.

She got up and jumped for
joy, pulling me in for one of those deep side to side hugs.
“This is going to be so much fun! I can’t wait to
dress you and give you a makeover!”

I held up my hands.
“Whoa, whoa, wait a second. I didn’t agree to that. Can’t I
just wear a pair of high heels, jeans and like a black cut up shirt?”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No, I’m really not.” What
did you wear to a fetish ball anyway? I pictured myself in a gimp suit and
grimaced.

“You have to dress the part.
Either as a slave or as a Dominant.”

“And what if I want
neither?” I certainly couldn’t picture myself as a Dom. Men thought me as quite
outspoken and confident but inside… sometimes I wondered who I really was? But
did that mean I’d have to be a slave? The thought of being at someone else
command made me shudder. It had a slightly odd effect on me too though, a
slight twisting in my stomach.

“Well, we’ll figure
something out.”

A week later I was told by
Loren to meet her at a store called
Liquid Desires
. I arrived a good
fifteen minutes ahead of time and started to look around the store. A few
things caught my eye, but nothing really wowed me in my perusal.

Loren soon got there and
drilled me on what I saw and what I liked. She quickly buzzed around the store
finding me this and that to try on. I tried on everything: fishnet body
stockings, skin tight latex dresses and sexy maids’ outfits. What I decided to
get, however, was something that could reflect me in a setting I was walking
into.

I settled on a leather skirt
that touched several inches above my knees and hugged my curves, opaque black
tights that attached to a garter belt under my skirt and a deep emerald green
corset that highlighted my hips and ample breasts.

Once those purchases were
made, Loren insisted I update my straight locks and dye my hair to highlight my
eyes and creamy complexion. I only agreed because she was overly excited and
was willing to pay for it. She took me to her favourite salon and my long fair
hair was lightened to a golden blonde and short layers at the front framed my
face.

The following weekend was my
crowning moment. Loren came over at four in the afternoon to start getting
ready. I showered first so she could dry my hair and set it hot curlers. Once
she was out and had her hair set, she helped me don my clothing, cinching the
corset tighter than it had been at the store.

My make-up was next. My skin
for the most part was blemish free, so a slight layer of concealer for my eyes
and powder was all that was needed there. My eyes she took her time on. A white
shadow called “bone” was applied, followed by a green that matched my corset
and made my blue eyes pop. A heavy liner and mascara followed, so much that I
barely recognized the girl in the mirror, but even I had to admit I looked
good.

She donned similar
undergarments to mine, but her dress was a black, shiny latex number that was
cut so low I was sure her breasts would fall out.

The time grew closer, and we
left my apartment for the venue. The entire drive there, Loren was giving me
the rundown on what and what not to do.
“If someone asks you into the backroom, don’t go with them.
More than likely they’re going to try and give you some drugs and take
advantage of you. Someone you might want to consider is someone who will take
you to the side of the room, get to know you and what you’re looking for, and
if you think you two might be a good match they might invite you out to dinner
and then back to their place.”

I gulped, wondering what on Earth I had
let myself in for.
The drill lasted until we got
there. As we walked through the hotel and to the ballrooms, she produced the
tickets from her purse, and once we were in she handed over her purse to the
check-in. “The girls here drink free, so if you want to give them your purse,
you won’t have to worry about someone taking it.”

I decided to keep my purse
with me just in case I got overwhelmed and needed to leave quickly. Once we
were in, I took notice of everything that was presented to me.

The ballroom was darkly lit;
blue and red lights, along with strobe lights danced across the walls and dance
floors. The majority of the women were dressed even more scantily than Loren
was, and I thought her attire was revealing a bit too much. The men mostly wore
leather pants and were bare-chested, though a few were dressed in slacks and
button down shirts. My heart hammered with apprehension.

“The men in the nicer attire
are looking for something a little more low key. A lot of them hold high
rankings in businesses and the likes. If one of them approaches you, you might
do yourself some good and chat with them.”

“All right. What if someone
comes up to you and you’re not interested?”

“You tell them so, and they
have to respect it. If they’re persistent, then they run the risk of being
asked to leave. If they’re asked to leave, then they pretty much get written
off by potential partners. Word travels fast.”

My nerves dissipated at this. It wasn’t
the sort of sordid affair I’d expect. Heck, half the men looked pretty
respectable. Maybe I
would
meet someone interesting.
The night went on, and Loren stayed with me for a little
while, introducing me to her friends and a couple of the people she played
puppet to in the past. Around midnight, however, I could tell she was getting
antsy to go off and hang out with some new partners and I set her free. She
told me that if I wanted to go I could, she could find a way home.  I
decided to hang around for a little bit longer, while I wasn’t talking with
anyone, nor had interest, the music and performers were entertaining and I
still had a drink to finish.

I milled about the crowds
for a little while, watching a guy on stilts juggle flaming bowling pins, a
girl with a light up hoop spin tricks that were impressive, and several other
acts. I turned to head back to the side of the room and that’s when it
happened. My gaze immediately locked on a guy across the room. His dark hair
was cut and combed expertly, almost as if he went to salon just for this
occasion. It took him a moment, but he too found my eyes. He took a sip of his
drink and after what looked to be a full body scan beckoned me over with a
flick of his head.

With an obviously toned body
and interesting features, he was gorgeous. I would’ve been stupid had I not
gone.

Weaving in and out of the
crowd, I finally reached my destination; the tension, whether good or bad I
didn’t know, hung heavy in the air between us. He broke it by leaning down and
saying, “Hi, my name is Derek. May I have the pleasure of knowing yours?”

I didn’t get quite as close
but his formal turn of phrase interested me. “Addy,” I spoke loudly over the
music and crowd.

“Is that short for
something?”

“Adeline.”

“I much prefer Adeline, if
you don’t mind.”

I liked the way my name
rolled off his tongue. “I don’t mind it at all. Most people call me Addy
because Adeline is such a mouthful.”

“Well, I like mouthfuls.” He
emphasized the point by looking down at my chest, which made my face hot. “How
are you enjoying yourself?”

“I’m enjoying myself quite a
bit.” He obviously heard the surprise in my voice. “This is my first time at
one of these events,” I explained, “and I actually came because my friends
insisted I get out and mingle with new people.”

“Well, to say the least, I’m
rather glad you did come out.”

I studied him for a moment, inhaling the
fresh scent of his cologne. Flutters of anticipation beat in my stomach.
“I am too, to be honest.”

The friendly banter
continued for some time; he even went up to the bar and grabbed me another
coconut rum drink. He took me further to the side of the room, to where the
leather couches were, and we sat down.

“So, may I ask you what
you’re into?”

“Well, I like to read, and
go and see movies—”

“I don’t mean like that, I
meant fetishes.”

“Oh, uh...honestly, I’m not
too sure myself. It’s not something that’s ever come up with my partners
before. I believe my friend called me ‘vanilla’?” My cheeks warmed as he smiled
knowingly.

“I see. Anything you’ve ever
thought about?”

“Not really. I can say I do
like to be stimulated and touched. The nape of my neck is probably the most
sensitive part of my body save for the obvious parts.”

His grin expanded. “That is
potentially very dangerous information you just freely gave up, Adeline.”

I didn’t know what to say,
so I just sat there in silence looking at him, my face heating with every
moment.

Finally, he leaned in toward
me. “I want to take you out, I believe. Perhaps to dinner and a show of your
choosing?”

I smiled, excitement
streaming through me. “I believe I would like that. But, I couldn’t choose the
show, if you’re going to show me hospitality, you can be the one to choose. I
will say, I like comedies and musicals, you can go from there.”

We exchanged numbers and
parted ways for the night around three in the morning. The following day we
figured out plans for dinner and show for that weekend. When the weekend came,
he took me to dinner at a French bistro, and then to see the newest comedy
production downtown.

“I have to say, I rather
enjoyed your company tonight,” he told me. “It’s really not too often I find
someone up to my standards at those kinds of events.”

I wondered at his turn of
phrase. A little flutter of pride sat in my chest at the thought of being
up
to his standard
. “I really wasn’t expecting or really looking for anybody.”

We strolled along the
sidewalk back towards city centre; it being a Saturday night a lot of couples
were out and about taking in the sights and street performers. We weren’t in a
hurry and we spent quite a while down there.

We found a little cafe that
had a live jazz band playing and we sat down to listen to them play while
enjoying a glass of wine. I kept feeling his dark gaze on me, and during one
such time I turned my head to look at him, a small smile playing on my lips.
“What?” I asked.