[en] [slave-girl] My Master Fulfilled my Fantasy

Four weeks after we started dating, Jon learned I was a sexual deviant. One of my girlfriends told him about my perverted fantasies, I found out later. She thought it was the only way shy ol’ me would get laid properly. Thanks, Laura. At first, I thought he would dump me in disgust. Then, I figured I’d have to dump him, because I was afraid, he would try something. But he sat down with me and had a nice, calm discussion. At least, he was calm. I was just too frightened to run. He confided that he had tried some kinky stuff “once or twice”, and that he was “willing to experiment”. If I ever felt uncomfortable, we’d stop right away. I decided not to tell my new Master that I was already way beyond “uncomfortable”.

Anyway, that’s why I showed up at his door at 2:58 PM on Friday, as instructed. On autopilot, I knocked, processed his “come in” and closed the door behind me. Then I waited. He sat with his back to me, apparently checking his email, while I tried not to fidget or ask what the holdup was. Those first two minutes were as bad a torture as any implement I’d imagined him using on my body. When it was exactly three o’clock, he gave me my orders without even turning around. In a scary emotionless voice, he said:
– Strip. – It took me a few seconds just to comprehend that he’d spoken, and by the time I’d convinced my fingers to move he’d turned around and was glaring at me. – Well? – After I had my sandals, shirt, and jeans off, I wondered why I was turned on by this treatment. Here I was, read to submit and lose my virginity all over again, and it was like he didn’t even care! I’d fantasized about all different types of Masters commanding me, and here was a real live one, as brutal and powerful Master as I’d imagined, one who just happened to sometimes be my geeky “normal” boyfriend. I felt great. Still terrified, though.

After I was naked, my Master made me wait again. The room wasn’t that cool but standing around naked changes things. Once, I was bold enough to bring my arms up. It was like he had eyes in the back of his head! Without turning around, my Master just cleared his throat and, I went back to statue mode. As for sitting down, well, I didn’t even think about it. I felt like I’d been waiting for weeks. It must have been about fifteen minutes. Finally, my Master stretched, cracked his knuckles, and ambled over. He walked in slow circles around me, fixing me with a distant, intent stare that pierced through my skin. I flushed, feeling more naked submitting to his scrutiny than ever before. Finally, he came to a stop behind me, where I couldn’t see what he was doing. I felt his arms reaching forward before he made contact and flinched involuntarily. But he drew me into his embrace and bent his neck around my shoulder, sliding his hands around my sides to meet over my navel.
– Ahhh, little one – he whispered in my ear, and this time his voice was all tender. – We’re going to have so much fun. – After a few moments of caressing my belly, Jon moved me over to the bed and forced me down to it. I slowly went limp as he half-turned me and positioned my body lying down. He then sat down at the other end of the bed and lifted my feet into his lap, massaging the toes. I let my stress flow into them, my eyes fluttering closed as his caresses pulled the nervousness out of my stomach.

– It’s really too bad I’m not a foot fetishist.
– Why’s that? – I asked, without opening my eyes.
– They’re the first thing I noticed about you, you know. Your toes, in those platform sandals. – He wiggled them firmly for emphasis.
– I hate those.
– Oh. Do they pinch your feet?
– No, but I curl my toes when I walk and, ummmm…
– Why didn’t you tell me you could do that?!
– You never asked. – I opened my eyes and he was beaming down at me, so I gave in to the change in mood and basked in the sensations he was creating. This was dominance of a different sort, and I decided that he was doing it on purpose; that he was going to show me all my fantasies so I could enjoy my first time as much as possible.
– Feeling better? – he asked.
– Thank you. – I hesitated. – Should I call you something? Like ‘Sir’, or ‘Master’?
– Master’s fine.
– Beat.
– Roll over. – I did. When he straddled my back and pulled my arms up above my head, I didn’t resist, but the some of the nervousness came back. Not as much as before, though. Was this to be more of the massage, or something new? He had a way of taking my mind off things. For some reason, as soon as he crossed my wrists and started wrapping cuffs around them, my doubts vanished. The feeling of restraint felt so right, like I had been begging all my life to be made helpless, like I had been made to go without some basic need. Jon gathered my hair and arranged it around my neck. – Are they OK? – My Master had taken away my wrists! As I tugged at them experimentally, I felt an answering tug between my thighs. At least someone was enjoying this. Finally, I told him the cuffs were fine. My ankles, too, were captured and stolen, as the helplessness I had felt since I walked through the door became real. I moaned softly into the pillow and wriggled joyfully. When he asked what I’d chosen for a safe word, I told him, and he made me promise one more time to use it if I had to.

Then he showed me the whip…

It was a fearsome-looking thing, nine tails and made of deliciously scented leather dyed a dark blue. He dangled brushed it against my face, and I inhaled deeply.
– How many do you think you can take? – (Uh-oh.)
– Twenty, Master? – I stammered. He laughed.
– You’re brave, little one. I’ll give you five to begin. – I was relieved. Five little strokes couldn’t hurt that bad, could they? Did I want them to? Without warning, he rained fire just above my right shoulder blade.
– EEEE-YAAAA! – I screamed, as the burning sting spread out into my consciousness. It was as if he could read my mind. The instant I’d gotten used to the feeling of my first flogging, a second blow hit my left should, the mirror image of the first. – Please, Master!
– If you want me to stop, just say the word. – He waited. – Good girl. – He snapped his wrist sharply and stroked pure agony across the upper left side of my back. – Three. I’m proud of you. – He didn’t wait as long for the next one, and my buttocks seized up. Whether in pain or pleasure, I couldn’t tell. Four! One part of me realized that I was babbling something, pleading interspersed with frequent “Masters”. Another part was surprised to find how much my breasts and pussy loved the abuse of my back. The rest of me was somewhere out of state, busy experiencing someone else’s use of my body. The fifth stroke was the best yet, the whole of my back erupting into flames as I dug my mound into the mattress and screamed through a dry throat. Five, and the whipping was over, but neither of us were done. The next thing I knew, Jon’s hands were on me, exploring the scorched skin I offered to him. His touch had a soothing, tranquilizing effect on me, but not on my arousal.

– You took that so well, little one. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.
– Uh-huh, – I agreed, in between heaving breaths. I was still trying to process the sensations when my Master touched my inner thighs, and I felt his tongue where I needed it most.
– Uh-huuuuh! – I said again, helplessly arching into the bed almost immediately. My hips rocked and squirmed as he applied mouth and fingers. I cried out again and again, conscious but not aware of it. He caressed and spanked me a few times as I shivered, reddening new areas and stimulating those that had been touched by the fourth hit.

Later, after I’d recovered and he untied me, we just cuddled for a while. My Master was still mostly dressed, although I got his shirt off. In between snogs while working on his pants, I said:
– You’ve done this before. And more than once or twice. – Jon laughed. – All right. I know your dirty little secret, so it’s only fair that I let you in on mine.
– Oooh, what is it, Master? I promise not to tell…
– Yes, I have a little more experience than I let on. – My Master kissed my throat, then looked me straight in the eye: – With men and women. Does that bother you? – He seemed almost anxious.
– As if anything about my Master would bother me.
– Thanks, Laura.

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