Page 2 of Savage SEAL's Virgin
Until then, I’d be the savage who could take a woman, bend her until she thought she’d break, then reform her into a superwoman, able to take care of herself and feed her desires. I had been thanked by all the women I’d taken on.I had to be doing something right!
Blyss
Nerves were never something I’d dealt with. But that night at the BDSM club I’d found online, The Dungeon of Decorum, I was shaking uncontrollably. After filling out lots of online paperwork and going to a doctor to get not only a clean bill of health, but a certificate of virginity, I was in Portland, Oregon.
The lady from the club, Isabel, was happy as a clam when I told her I was a virgin. She asked me if I was a virgin to BDSM or an actual virgin. When I told her I was an actual virgin, she was ecstatic and told me I’d end the summer a wealthy woman. It never occurred to me that I’d get so much money that it’d make a difference to me. But she assured me that if I brought a certificate of virginity with me from the doctor, then I’d probably have more money than I’d ever dreamed of. On top of that, I’d be fought over at the auction.
The idea of money was novel to me. I had a job as a tutor at Stanford that didn’t pay a whole lot. My apartment was one of those studios with sparse furnishings. My car was ancient and I barely used it, as walking could be faster at times than trying to drive the backfiring rust bucket anywhere.
When I’d left my apartment in Stanford, California to head to Portland, I’d told the manager of the complex I’d lived in for five years to sell what was in it. And I’d given her the rust bucket that was parked under the covered parking area designated to me. Leaving her the signed title to the car, I’d gotten into a cab and headed out to the airport to start my new life as a Submissive partner to a complete stranger. I was leaving it all behind. Every bit of it. When I returned to go to school in the fall, I’d have enough money to get myself a new car and a nice place to live.
That knowledge had kept my chin up as I waited for summer to come. Bonus news just kept coming from the BDSM club. I was to bring only what I absolutely needed—my birth control if I took oral pills, which I did, and any other personal things like glasses or contacts. The Dom who won me would put me up in a place to live. It might be with him or it might not. And he’d cover all the bills and keep me fed and clothed. Now the clothing would be his choice, mind you, but I was down with that. My usual attire of lab coat and slacks would never do as a sexy Sub anyway. My new man could dress me any way he pleased. Or not dress me at all. I was cool with nudity.
I’d worked on sculpting my body once I’d made the decision to become a sub. I wanted everything about my appearance to please men. My hair had been down to my ass. I rarely cut it as I put it into a tight bun each day. I’d gone to a beauty salon to have it shaped up, and I loved the loose, layered waves that hung from being freshly cut. And they’d fixed up my eyebrows and waxed up my body, telling me that was what women did all the time. They’d even taught me how to put on makeup and sent me home with an entire bag full of it. It had all cost me a small fortune of about five hundred dollars, but I was a new woman when I’d left there.
Having no luggage to check on the flight was great. I had so few things that everything fit into a large purse. I was given a gorgeous white dress to put on when I got to the club that night. My hair and makeup were done by the club’s stylists, and I was sent to walk around a large room with other women who had high hopes of becoming subs to the many Doms. The men who were doing the bidding were supposed to be sitting in an area behind a large, two-way mirror.
Isabel was hurrying here and there, helping us. There were twenty of us in all. It didn’t go unnoticed by me that the other women were being subjected to all sorts of things I wasn’t. And boy, I was thankful for that. The trainers were all huge men with sculpted muscles, and they did all kinds of things to the other women, including showing off the want-to-be subs’ genitals to the mirrored wall. I hadn’t been aware of all the things that would have been done to me if I wasn’t a virgin in both ways.
No one expected me to take any kind of punishment, as I’d not been trained at all. Whoever got me had to do all my training. I thought that might be something Doms wouldn’t want, but Isabel and the other women who were on the auction block with me assured me the men would be putting their homes up for third mortgages to get me.
It was still hard to believe that to be true. Without being able to see the guys at all, it was like the whole thing was make believe. We were paraded around so much, it seemed ridiculous. I wanted to take a break and write down all the feelings I’d had through the whole process, but there seemed to be no time for that. Time went on, women got called and left to meet their Doms, and I was getting left behind. Isabel came to tell me there was a bidding war going on for me as the only other woman who was left with me was taken away.
Isabel took me with her to a small room. It was lavishly furnished and there was a bottle of wine on a small table. “Take a seat, Blyss. We’re out of sight in here.” She poured a couple of glasses of red wine, and I looked at my white dress.
Klutziness was my middle name. “I better not. I’ll most likely spill it all over this dress and that wouldn’t be good.”
“Nonsense.” Isabel pushed the long-stemmed glass toward me as I sat up, preparing to lean over the table as I took a drink of it.
She walked away and came back with a small tray of fruit and cheese. “That looks good. I haven’t eaten since early this morning.”
“Eat up, Blyss.” She sat down and joined me as she took some yellow cheese and a chunk of apple. “I’ve never seen anything like what’s going on upstairs.”
I was more than a bit surprised. “How long have you worked here?”
“Since it first opened. I was one of the owner’s first subs. He and I tested the waters as the men made up their long list of rules.” She sipped her wine, and I tried to follow the way she did it, without making a mess.
Holding the wide bottom, I lifted it and put only a small amount in my mouth. I was successful and placed the glass back on the table as I held the liquid in my mouth for a moment to taste the first bit of alcohol I’d ever had. It wasn’t as unpleasant as I’d thought it would be. It was actually quite good. “That is a long list. That’s the only thing I read about this whole thing. I had to read the rules and sign off on them, or I wouldn’t be here, would I?”
“No, you would not.” Isabel’s cell went off and she looked at it. “Oh, good. My assistant sent me a message. You’ve been won, Blyss Danner. Are you ready to go meet the man who’ll teach you things you never dreamed of?”
My heart was pounding, my knees were knocking, and I had the sudden urge to run like hell.
Troy
I had decided to drive to Portland, instead of flying. I wanted to have my Jeep, so my new Sub and I could do a little backcountry traveling. With camping gear ready to go, I was planning on having some fun in the deep woods. I’d always been more at home in the outdoors. My parents called me Tarzan because of it. My brief visit with them—I’d only spent two nights—wasn’t enough to make them happy. And they never understood my vacationing in Portland. I told them I liked the forests of Oregon.
It wasn’t a complete lie. I like the forests too.
My drive was supposed to take around ten hours, but due to some gnarly thunderstorms, I was three hours behind schedule. I had to head straight into the club, borrowing a tuxedo from the rentals they had available. The Dungeon of Decorum had a strict dress code, which I found kind of funny, as they also allow various states of undress by the subs and prevalent sexual behavior, rendering body parts exposed.
The auction had already begun as I entered the bidding room. A bevy of beauties were walking in a figure-eight pattern on the stage floor below us. The women were paraded around different areas to allow us to see portions of them at different heights, and allowing us to eventually see all of them. With them on the lowest stage, we could see their posture, the tops of their heads, how narrow or wide their shoulders were, and their gait. Not that any of that shit mattered to me. But it was what the men who founded the BDSM club came up with, so it had remained the same throughout the years.
Slipping into the dimly-lit room, I found it was nearly full. One of the owners caught my eye and I took a seat next to him. “Finally going to grab you up a Sub for the summer, Grant?”
“Me?” He looked at me with a grin on his face. “Not me. I’m here to catch a glimpse of the virgin all the men are talking about.”
“A BDSM virgin?”
