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Summary of what happened

We went to a cafe and Roland looked less disgusting and more attractive this time, also less fat.

Roland said I’m a psychopath and a very happy person.

I found out he is a millionaire and he gave me a statement of one of his accounts showing 1.6 million which I’ll upload in redacted form here (in another post) and to Facebook.

We did another photoshoot in his studio involving oral (me recieving), a vibrator and the whipped cream I bought from the student shop while waiting for him to turn up;

At 7pm we went to his house where he spanked me for a long time with different implements (hand, wooden spoon, hairbrush, flogger, paddle, cane) and forced me to give him a blowjob; I tried to run away but he caught me so I had no choice but to use the strawberry and cream flavoured sauce I’d got in case of this worst case scenario. So at least it tasted good.

I tried to use the knife and needles I’d brought but he didn’t trust me to pierce his cock; instead, he did it, trying to draw blood that I could suck (as per my intentions). This was unsuccessful. So I used a firelighter to heat up a fork instead, which was a bit too sucessful.

He caned me and then let me cane him, but only too strokes because he said I did it “very hard” though I would call it mild. But I am more of a domme than a sub.

What happened next? How did he end up ‘abducting’ me to Newcastle at 5:45am the next morning? What other stuff happened and how did we feel about it, what did we say etc? And how did he end up paying me and dropping me off in the small area/town that I live, where I could potentially be seen with him and getting out of his car when I was supposed to be somewhere else? WHAT MADNESS WAS THIS?!!I’d LOVE LOVE LOVE to write it now but I’m tired, and I still hurt from yesterday thanks to him. I can’t even guarantee that the ‘highlights’ I just gave you were the most dramatic, surprising or important bits; so many weird dramatic things happened, like me holding a knife to his neck, or the handcuffs wrestling where I squirted him in the face with the cream and in his mouth so he had to eat it…heh. And learning what would’ve happened if I’d told him my tuition fees were 12k, our plans for taking my virginity, his Chastity theory about me, calling Roland by his fake name for three hours as two models got naked, and a load of other stuff, like lying to our families (and others) about where we were, as well as the other sexual stuff we did. I discovered a lot about myself. I think Roland did, too.

 

 

 

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After the spanking

Roland held me against his chest – he’s really tall- and I felt embarassed about crying but I couldn’t stop, which was a bit scary as my body was outwith my control. I felt disappointed in myself for not being able to handle it, and disgusted with myself for crying (as I usually feel about crying). He stroked my hair and kissed the back of my neck, and I slowly relaxed. I hadn’t been comforted like this since I was 5 or 6. Roland said I’d done very well as it was only my first time with implements, and that it was good that I’d asked to stop when I knew I couldn’t take it. He knew exactly what I was thinking. He brushed my breasts with his fingers and I wished he wouldn’t do that. He cuddled me for a while and then asked if I still wanted to take photos or stop and go home; I think it surprised him a bit that I wanted to take photos. He said if I wanted to go home we could go right now, and he didn’t want me to feel like I had to.

He took lots of photos of me lying and kneeling on the couch, and told me to look “vanquished” like I just got spanked. He said I could do the pained expression very well. (It was easy because I just remembered how the spanking felt and recreated the expression).Roland reminded me that we could stop anytime if I wanted to, and I ased “Are you really not disappointed? That I couldn’t make it to six?” and he said he wasn’t. After he took the photos I said he could give me the rest of the six strokes, and this seemed to surprise him. He gave me the first/fourth very gently and I said he could do it harder, and he gave me 3 more (so 7 in all).

Then he took pics of me in more erotic poses on the floor and I asked him if he was going to put this on the internet and he said no, so I relaxed and posed much more explicitly like I was touching myself; then I started actually masturbating while he was shooting (because his camera doesn’t give blurry images if there’s movement and I was doing it slowly anyway). Roland looked like he couldn’t believe his luck. He was shooting away and then asked if I could do actual porn poses, and he said I was good at it, and photographed me sitting in porn poses which was lots of fun. He made me pull one of my inner labia out, and I found that mine are really stretchy, so they just ping back into shape if I let go, so I was having lots of fun going “PING!” and giggling. He used his video camera to film me pinging and I gave him a thrill by rolling around on the carpet and doing forwards rolls and backwards rolls.

 

 

 

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Preying on a young student

“Anyway, a contract wouldn’t be a good idea, because it’d be evidence. If we got found out. And you’d have more to lose than me,” I added smugly, “Cos nobody cares what a student does. Even if I was famous in future, they’d be just like, ‘oh, she was a student, she was just doing it for the money. But you’re a businessman. That’s a scandal.” I let the word drip with luscious shame and it hung in the air between us.

“Oh yes, I would be the bad guy,” he smirked, “Corrupting an innocent young student. A pervert preying on a helpless young girl.” (Or something like that – I make no guarantee that I remember every word correctly in this scene, or in the rest of this blog; I also omit conversations which repeat themes, facts or content, as my conversations with Roland were occassionally repetitive, probably because of the nature of the situation.)

This made me smile.

We stopped at Roland’s studio so he could get his photography equipment to shoot me in his office. While we were in the studio, I sat on the tiny sofa where he had given me my first spanking around two weeks before. We chatted a bit about the spanking and I admitted that I’d felt a bit confused and mixed-up immediately afterwards because I hadn’t realised that something so pleasurable could be free and so easy to do. I had been unprepared for how satisfying and wonderful it felt. He had finally given me what I’d fantasised, written and drawn about since I was 9 years and 2 months old. And it had been better than that time I’d spanked a guy. Roland laughed when I told him that.

“You want to spank me now?” I asked, and he went out into the corridor to check and said people would hear it. He came back in and made me strip like a dirty little prostitute. He grabbed me around the waist, his hands rubbing and feeling my whole body; I must’ve looked stunning to him in my red lacy underwear so I’m not surprised he did that. It was very tickly, and painful and delightful all at the same time. Roland squeezed, pinched and stroked me, saying “Is this what’s for sale? Let’s see this body then.” I wriggled as he examined me. It was so debasing and entertaining to be treated as a commodity, a mere product, like a red Ferrari or something. Something to be inspected, looked at from every angle, test driven. You might wonder how a feminist – I’ll post more on my views, research, and political beliefs later – could possibly be aroused and intellectually stimulated by a man treating her as a possession. Surely, any woman (and indeed regular man) with half a brain cell would be horrified at reading this blog. But I think the enjoyment was possible because I knew he didn’t really see me that way; he sees me as a person and he knows my thoughts and personality, interests, views and hobbies. It was also pretty funny because it was really tickly so I was giggling and squirming a lot.

He made me sit on the sofa, saying “look what the uni dragged in,” and set up his camcorder. He started filming me, interrogating me about selling my virginity to him. The special photography light was shining in my face as he gave me the third degree while filming my responses.

The light he used to make me ‘confess’

I said this must be how people in Saudi Arabia feel (before being hypothetically spanked by the police) and then said I knew this was inapproriate to joke about; I cut that fantasy short because I had a bad experience with discovering one of my BDSM torture fantasies to be actually true in a neighbouring country to Saudi Arabia.

Anyway, he made me confess to prostituting myself and then I asked him to stick the radio’s little plug in my butt, and it hurt quite a lot, it was uncomfortable but also very satisfying. Then we drove to his office.

 

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Afterwards

We talked some more – musing over how the film would be done, discussing ideas, and also chatting about other things like Creationism, the Epic of Gilgamesh and world stuff/current events. It was very much like talking online with him on the art site, where this whole Virgin/Whore dichotomy idea had been born through our messages about the double standard and its creation of the dichotomy, as expressed in many ancient religions and texts such as the Bible (and, more recently, in the works of de Sade: Juliet v Justine). Roland thinks that de Sade “places pleasure (philosophically) where Nietzsche places the will, and the rest follows inexorably both through feeling and through logic.”

Roland had said online that he wanted to do photographs of me in a brothel for his project “the Virgin in the Whorehouse” which we’ll probably do along with the virginity film, or after. When I told him about looking into selling my virginity on adultwork.com (a site which my friend had told me that his friend, a sex worker, used) he said a girl who wants to sell her virginity is surely “the perfect VirginWhore”  He also said “you are a piquant combination of a pure body and an impure mind; the fantasies and curiosities of the Virgin conspiring inevitably to bring about her own Fall of her own volition, and for her own pleasure. Whether that pleasure be physical, material, spiritual, artistic or all of these at once. If man-meal you would have yourself be, then these pleasures are the exquisite spices that make it worth paying for – and, indeed, consuming. It is a very human story, an old story”.

I wrote to him: “Oh to be a Victorian, to transform in an instant from angel in the house into fallen woman! The American Tragedy of the beautiful, intelligent young sluts the psychiatrists fled from in horror when they percieved the sexuality of the 1950s/60s woman. Maybe they knew, even then, that the repression was falling; maybe they glimpsed in their unmarried pregnant patients’ eyes the courage and adventurousness of their innocent daughters.”

I include snippets of these conversations because I believe they form a backdrop to our arrangement, and are perhaps the reasons for this deal – without any connection through writing I doubt the deal would have happened, because for Roland sex is all to do with the mind and the mind is the greatest sexual organ. And so it is with me as well, I think.

Anyway, we continued talking and I remember thinking that I probably look hot eating the icecream (not that I was attempting to do so in a hot way; just not shovelling it in as I would do if I was at home). I eat lots of icecream and 5-6 bars of chocolate per day as well as coffee, hot chocolate and crisps; I’ve never dieted in my life. I was feeling sort of mentally dizzy after he said £8000 because although I’ve always wanted to sell my virginity, I never truly imagined I’d succeed!  And I would have, if necessary, sold it for £4000 or even £3000; (but then since Roland would be seeing me after getting my virginity and giving me the rest then, you could say that the virginity itself was being sold for £4k). Before he paid the bill, I went to the toilet to jump up and down and go “YES!YES!YES!” in private and look at my beautiful self in the mirror. I’m not one of those squealing fashion-slave divas who spends an eternity getting ready. In fact, I’ve never had my nails done professionally or been waxed; I only go to the hairdressers if I want highlights and trim my hair myself. And I LOVE LOVE my style which, although it incorporates the trends, is not at all dependent on the latest look (though I usually will have one or two items of clothing that reflect the latest look.) But, despite only taking about 5-10 minutes each morning to get ready, I always look fabulous. I’ve had total strangers from teens to little old ladies and accountants come up to me in the street and compliment my cheapo outfits that I buy in Internacionale, Primark, New Look and at best Topshop, Bank, Dorothy Perkins, Next and Republic. Anyway, I jumped up and down for a while before actually using the toilet and then staring at myself in the mirror and my reflection looked radiant and golden. I thought, ‘I have to tell Lochlan’ (my best friend) but my phone, Fire, wasn’t with me or I would have right then. I may have said “8000! You did it! You did it! Yes! Yes! 8000” but I’m not sure; my memory is very fuzzy at this point because this was the best moment of my life, and the fact that I was experiencing the best moment of my life in a toilet cubicle didn’t bother me at all. After a bit more screaming, I went back outside and Roland and I walked to his car (it’s a BMW convertible and, as he says, it’s a boy car with muscles. I won’t describe it further though). We had the run the last hundred metres to beat the traffic warden, which we managed by one minute.

 

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The Deal

Roland’s mention of his art quest reminded me of what he said online: “I see you also as a lovely muse, someone with whom to create or inspire art – erotic art. I see what happens sexually between us as part of that art. It is surely appropriate that an artist pays his muses. And this payment does not – alone – make them whores.” I had suggested we film it, and I knew this idea appealed to him.

“If I could film it,” he said now, looking at me steadily, “And take photographs – if I could make some art out of it – a work of art, not just a porn film…I would look at the sex as part of that art…”

“Yeah, anyone can make a porno,” I said, “Two 12 year old neds could make a good porn film. It would have a narrative. And,” I added, dispensing with the hushed voice “It would not be just that one second, the goods would be yours for a whole day. If you saw my second-last message…” Roland nodded. “Yeah, just no big permanent marks. Small ones are okay.”

He grinned at me, amused and a little surprised. “You want a reminder, don’t you!” he said.

“I don’t want a reminder, I just wouldn’t mind one,” I smiled. “And now there’s a deal you won’t get anywhere else.”

He nodded.

“So, how good are you at negotiation?” he asked, looking right at me.

I smiled instantly. “We-ell, I tricked the Chief of Police of the entire […] district into admitting he’d lied and that police on his force had been corrupt – that was to do with the local authority thing I told you about. I was 18 then. So that should tell you something about my skills.”

Roland frowned, and I knew he was thinking about the local authority in another town and how they had lied about my family.

“That was pretty impressive, right?” I said, grinning.

“What’s the first rule of negotiation?” he said suddenly.

I thought for a bit, a little smile on my face and looking hot while I was thinking (as I always do if I use this particular ‘thinking’ expression). I said, “I think it would be always to keep the end goal in your mind. Because as long as you don’t forget your goal, you will make a good negotiation.”

“That’s very true.”

“So what do you think is the first rule of negotiation?” I said.

He thought for a bit. “I would say, don’t be the first to name a price. Because then the other person can change it or lower it or debate it.”

That made me smile. “I already broke that one, didn’t I? Like I said I wasn’t after as much as those other girls got.[4k; 8k and 100k]”

“How much are your student debts?” he said.

“I think eight thousand, but it might be like twelve thousand now because they changed it.” [Actually now I know it would have been 10k if they had not changed it, but after changing it it is now 12k. Which doesn’t matter anyway because I doubt Roland would have given me 10k or 12k; or if he had, he might have asked for more stuff in return.And as this venture is not actually prompted by student debts, it doesn’t really matter.]

“I’ll give you eight thousand,” he said, “Provided that we film it; we’ll do some spanking, bondage and some shots to establish the narrative. So it might take three or four times before we actually consummate it And you continue seeing me after the consummation, for photographs and some more spanking and sex.”

I put my dessert spoon in my mouth and sucked off the icecream. It was the best raspberry ice cream I’d ever had.

I said, semi-truthfully, “I don’t know if I’d be here after we consummate it because I might go travelling. I’m not going to say I certainly will be here if I might not.”

“Well, let’s say four thousand for the virginity, and a further four thousand for if you want to continue,” he said.

“Yeah, I think that’d be easier,” I nodded.

We agreed that he’d pay me £1000 each time he saw me; I wanted this method of installments, rather than a lump sum, because it meant that if either of us wanted to back out, it would be easy to do so without negotiating how much was owed or how much of the deal had been fulfilled.

“And,” I said, “I would want something in advance; it doesn’t have to be much.”

“Like a deposit,” Roland smiled.

“Yeah – like I’m a Ferrari.”

 

 

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Selling virginity: an attempt at documenting the experience

I started this blog because I am selling my virginity, and I wanted to document this wonderful adventure I’m having – not out of vanity or celebration, but as an accurate portrayal of our society at this precise moment – the human experience of pleasure, ideas, our social world, which led to this exquisite transaction and which will ultimately shape it – whether we are aware of it or not.

Obviously, all names will be changed. This is my first attempt at blogging so I cannot promise you an earth-shatteringly good blog which will blow your mind/provide a startling social commentary/whatever. All I can deliver is the truth; or rather the truth from my point of view, as I see it.

I hope you enjoy reading what I write – whether it amuses, entertains or surprises you.

 

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