The Meeting
It was noon; the wind beat the trees beneath the grey, moody sky. The rain that had been threatening all morning began to fall in big, fat drops as I battled against the unrelenting wind, which gusted around me.
He had said meet him at exactly 12.00, it was now two minutes past. He was not going to be impressed and I did want to impress him. My heart thumbed unfortunately, I could not afford to make him angry. From the messages we had exchanged and that one intense telephone call; I knew he was the one. I did not want to fail him when he had made it clear that failure was not something he found acceptable.
I made myself walk faster, my high heels beating a rapid tune on the hard pavement. My tight, long skirt that I had put on so carefully over barely there, red underwear was not designed for running; otherwise I would have sprinted the short distance between me and the coffee house where we had arranged to meet; I would dothat just to be a few seconds less late than I knew I was going to be. I should have left earlier, should have given myself ten minutes more time. Taking so long putting on soft, red lipstick on my full lips; too long putting on extra coats of black mascara to frame my blue eyes; so long choosing the dark red silk jumper with the deep V neck that showed my plump breasts to their advantage; all had cost me the time I needed to get to our meeting on time. I should have known that I’d need more time, why would he want to take me on if I could not even meet him at the time we had agreed?
I made it to the coffee house door, my hands suddenly slick with sweat as they turned the cold, metal handle. I was breathless; my mouth dry and my heart pounding. Would I recognize him, would he recognize me? Would he be as stunning as the picture I had built up in my fansies? As sensitive looking as the voice I had heard during our telephone call when we had arranged this? The questions built in myhead, and drowned out the muted voices of the coffee house customers.
The place was packed. I could see couples arguing whilst children ran between the tables; an old man reading the paper; a sales rep with orders scattered over his table top and young lovers holding hands while their coffee grow cold. Where was he? I checked my watch – 12.15. Maybe he had left? I had failed in his instructions, why would he stay? I could feel tears of disappointment pricking my eyes as I considered that he might not be here.
A hand gently but firmly claped my elbow from behind. I turned. My eyes moved up from the strong, large tanned hand to the muscle arm, covered in expensive cream, cashmere. His shoulders were broad; you could imagine yourself being protected by those shoulders – those were the type of shoulders that could block out the world and make you feel that nothing else mattered but having your head resting on them. I looked up, to gaze into blue eyes, the colour of a summer’s sky when no clouds existed to block the intensity of the sun; eyes that could look straight through you and see your soul. Eyes that had seen too much of the world’s secrets, there would be no hiding from those eyes.
“You’re late?” He guided me to a table, obscured behind some large, green ferns. “Let me take your coat”. Those hands, those long fingers helped my coat from my shoulders and gently removed it from me. “Sit …, please.” He hung the coat on the coat stand and returned to the table.
“Thank you.” I said. I clapped my hands demurely in front of me, mainly to hide the fact that they were shaking and kept my eyes lowered. I was not ready to gaze fully into those eyes until I had got my breathing under control.
“So, why were you late?” He said. His fingers drummed impossiblely on the table.
“I didn’t judge quite how long it would take me to walk here. I got caught up choosing what to wear.” I raised my eyes to his face, and watched as his smile broke the sternness glinting in those too blue eyes.
“Well, that is something I can take care of for you.” He paused, his eyes resting on the V framing my breasts. “Though, you chose well.”
I smiled back, pleased that I had not disappointed him, even though I was five minutes late.
He leaned across and took my clapped hands in his. “You asked to see me before we began our relationship. It’s not something I usually agree to but in this case, you interest me and I’m willing to make an exception.” As he spoke his fingers stroked the back of my enclosed hands.
I feel the shiver run through me as the delicious stroke of my hands spoke to my body of further pleasures those hands could impart. He released my hands and motioned to the waitress.
The waitress sashayed around the tables, her notebook flipping out to take his order.
“Two coffees, white; no sugar” He said. He took it that I would have my coffee the same as his, and I was far too in awe to disagree.
He reclaimed my hands as the waitress moved off to get the coffees.
“So …” He looked at me, waiting for me to speak.
“I just wanted to make sure that you were who you said you were before …” I paused, not quite sure how to carry on.
“Before, we began your training.” He finished the sentence for me. “And now, little one you are sure?”
“Yes, I believe you.” My voice sounded small, childlike “I trust you.” I murmured. Remembering that he had said I had to trust him, needed to if I was going to be ready.
“Good. Your submission must come from trust. Without that …” He paused, as the waitress put down the coffees in front of him. “Thank you.” He said to her, and gave her the benefit of his smile before turning back to me.
“When?” I asked. I was eager now for the lessons to begin, the knot of tension inside me threatened to exploit. If he answered now, I knew I would have followed him anywhere, done anything to feel those hands stroke my body withthe same cares I had felt on my hands.
“When I decided.” He said. “You will give me your house key. You do have the spare key with you?” He reached out a hand, and left it open on the table.
This was what I wanted, what I needed, what I craved for. It still did not stop the fear, from making my movements clumsy as I removed the key from the pocket of my too tight skirt.
I placed the key in his open palm and he clapped his hand around it and my hand. “Thank you.” He said. His eyes looked deep into mine.
Submission is a gift, wrapped in trust and tied with a big bow of hope. I had just presented mine in the shape of a key. The first step on a journey to a place I believed in but had no directions to; I could only have faith that this man was the right guide and would be able to lead me.
The Scene
The rain battered the old sash windows as I lay in bed, snuggled under the thick, soft blankets. The house was old, and aloneSurrounded by trees but wrapped around me that winter’s night keeping me safe. My naked body was warm and comfortable as I slowly relaxed into sleep.
It was the loud creak on the stairs that I. Old houses tended to speak and groan especially in the winter when the heat is craneated up high against the cold. But this was a different sound – the type of sound that heavy feet made when pausing on the third stair. I could feel a shiver run up my back as I strained to hear. Nothing. It must have been one of the cats. I laid back into the pillows and pulled the covers tighter around me. That’s the problem with living alone in a big, old house – you can frighten yourself so easily. I drifted back into sleep.
That’s when the hand was clamped over my mouth. A large, rough hand forcing my head back into the pillows and holding tight to my long blonde hair. Any scream I would, or could have made was cut off by that hand. His weight shifted down and pinned me under the covers, my arms were useless and any movement I made was hampered by the thick blankets that had earlier made me feel so safe.
His hand was still on my mouth; I breathed quickly through my nose and tried to think. His other hand, pinched my nose … I can’t breathe. I tried to move, shift his weight; I was sinking…
“Now little one, when I let you breathe you will do as you are told. Understand?” The voice was miles away. I tried to nod my head, I don’t know whether it moved or not but he released my nose and I sucked in air greedily.
He laughed… “Well, I hope you suck my cock as enthusiastically as you’ve just gulped that air”. He shifted his weight off my chest, still covering my body with his from my belly to my feet and pulled down the covers, the hand covering my mouth moved to grap my neck. Such a big hand, one squeeze on my neck and I knew I would definitely not be breathing again.
The blankets were now resting on my stomach; my naked breasts were exposed in the moonlight. The cold winter air teased across my nipples as they stood proud and erect. “You are a pretty one, aren’t you?” He said. I felt his hand on my breast gently caresing the nipple. A line of pleasure ran from my nipple direct to my pussy; I could feel myself begin to run wet just from that small touch. I moaned against his hand, he chuckled. “Well, this might just be fun; as long as you remember who’s in charge”. His hand tightened round my throat slightly – I could feel the pressure as he continued to stroke and squeeze my breast.
He rose off of me quickly and the covers were swept away, I pulled my hands up and tried to price that hand from my throat.
“Still!” His voice was like a gunshot and I froze. “You will accept and do as you are told or …” He did Not need to finish the sentence, I understand.
I could feel his eyes, moving from my breasts down to my stomach, down to the shaft between my legs. I kept my legs tight together and hoped that he couldn’t smell my juices distinctive musk as they began to moisten my thighs.
“Open your legs.” He commanded. I automatically obeyed – I was in no position to do anything else. My legs spread. I was even more vulnerable to his view and the moonlight clearly lit everything he wanted to see. “I can smell you, you want this.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Good girl.”
His hand was Still around my throat, he used his other to slowly stroke down my body from the tip of my breast to the parting of my legs. His finger gently pulled my lips apart to expose my clip. The juices were flowing and lubricated his finger as it stroked my clip firmly. I moved against his finger as the strokes sent waves of pleasure through me. I moaned and my hips moved to the rhythm of his touch. “Very good girl” he murmured.
His mouth lowered to my ear and whispered, “I am going to remove my hand from your throat, if you move I will punish you. Do you understand? You are not to speak.” I nodded my headvigorously. He removed his hand. I fought the urge to move or try to run. I knew I would not get far.
Put your hands out in front of you. I obeyed and felt the silk of my dressing gown sash wind around my wrists. He pulled it tight, and I could feel the smoothness bite into my flesh. My arms were forced back over my head as he attached the sash to the bed head. Just tight enough to be Uncomfortable, I had the feeling that this was not the first time he had performed that task.
“Lift your head.” His voice was not loud or cruel, it just sounded like it was used to being obeyed. I did not know what punishment would be provoked by disobeying and I did not want to find out. I did as he said, lifting my head from the pillow and he knotted the blindfold firmly around my head.
The blackness was complete all I could do was hear and feel. I could hear his clothes falling on to the floor and I could feel the cold night air chilling my body. I whimpered and swallowed the sound just in case he thought that it was enough of a noise to demand the punishment he had promised.
He knelt, knees either side of my chest, flattening my breasts with his weight. “Open your mouth … wider.” I strained my lips apart to do as he said. He slide two fingers inside my mouth, gently forcing my tongue down. “Suck”. I could taste myself on those rough, large fingers but I sucked. I moved My tongue to cares the juices from between his two fingers and heard his moan of appreciation.
He removed his fingers and moved up so he was now kneeling just below my neck. “Now, you remember what I said about moving. Punishment would not be nice, would it?” I shook my head. “Then we will move on. Open your mouth wider.” I opened my mouth as wide as I could and the large head of his cock brushed against my lips as he pushed himself into my mouth. “Move your tongue down and to the left … all the way down”. I strained to take the shake of his cock; I could feel the head pushing against the back of my throat. My throat spasmed and he pulled back before I could gag. “Good girl. Let’s try again.” I could feel tears forming at the corner of my eyes as his large cock re-entered my mouth. He pushed in, pulled back and pushed in again, using my mouth as he would a vagina. I could taste his pre-cum as he pulled out of mouth entirely. He slapped my hip as he moved down my body to kneel between my legs.
“Good, very good.” He murmured as his fingers began struggling my thighs. I was still wet, the cold air had hardly dried my thighs at all and his stroke fingers were well lubricated as they pushed into my throbbing vagina. “Nice and wet. Very wet. It’s almost as though you’re enjoying yourself?” He paused. “Answer me! Are you enjoying yourself?” My silence was not enough. “Tell me!” The order could not be ignored. “Say – Yes sir.”
“Yes sir.” I whispered. The tears escaped and buried themselves into the blindfold. As his fingers patted my mound and inched back inside my soaking lips to cares my throbbing clip. My hips moved to meet them as two fingers invaded my open and welcome sex.
His fingers drove in and out, in and out as I gasped and strained to take those fingers ever deeper inside. He pulled his fingers out, his weight covered my thrusting body and he drove his cock deep inside. His hands buried into my breasts and squeezed, kneeled and pulled them as he rammed into me. The rhythm of our bodies smoking against each other, joined by the length of his thick cock, began the first waves of my orgasm. The contractions gripped around him and pulled him even deeper inside me. He pulled out completely and whilst I was still coming, the spray of his orgasm hit my breast and open mouth.
He moved to hold me, as my body still throbbed. He stroked my hair and whispered “Well done, baby. You learn fast. We will soon begin the second lesson.”
Yes sir.” I moaned in reply.
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