Author's Notes:
After several months of editing on Literotica, this is my first attempt at my own story. If it gets good feedback, you will all be treated to more of the on-going tales between these "based on reality" characters.
Special thanks to my Master and muse LunarSirius. I have learned much about writing from him, and he was instrumental in helping me turn this from a simple fantasy into a full story for you to hopefully enjoy.
Contains elements of BDSM, but nothing too severe. I welcome constructive criticism and compliments, but haters please just walk away.
I leaned up against the cool steel of the railing, looking across the river at the Statue of Liberty. It's dark outside and late enough that most people have gone in. The view is beautiful and I'm enchanted; Ellis Island, Governor's Island, so much history is in front of me. I use the beauty and history to try and purge you from my mind.
I've been your slave for two months now. I knew that long distance relationships were hard, but long distance dom/sub relationships are next to impossible. Every morning I send you an email professing my devotion to your service. Every morning you send me reply encouraging me to do more, be better and try harder.
It's been that way almost from that first cold-call email you sent me. You guessed my email address from my screen name and demanded that I serve you. I'd chosen the screen name on a lark. I'm not really a submissive type; I'm a successful professional. I have a career. People count on me to be strong, make decisions, be a leader. I'm certainly not a slave. Yet here I am, pathetically wondering if your two days of email silence is a punishment for something I've done. I've sent my daily morning emails, and each have received no response. I am going crazy with fear that I've lost you for some unknown reason.
Sometimes you punish me with a self-inflicted spanking or humiliating task that I perform collared in full view of people that I might see the next day in my professional outfit and perfect makeup. I do what you request. I send you pictures of my cherry-red ass and my collared face in public places. I try to be your good girl, but you make it so hard. I feel like I'm always failing.
I hold the cool metal of the railing as the only image I have of you floods my mind's eye. Your warm brown eyes make me want to serve you. They make me want to drop to my knees and show you what a good girl I can be. I imagine myself unzipping your pants and freeing your hard cock. I look up into your encouraging eyes as I slide your penis into my mouth. You grab my hair in your fists and drive your cock hard down my throat.
I stop. This daydream is exactly what I shouldn't be thinking about. I need to purge you from my mind, not embrace your hold on me. I look over across the river into New Jersey and then down to Staten Island. I begin to briskly walk, symbolically walking away from you.
I'm wearing a black stretchy knee-length skirt and a light blue tank top with no bra, just a tighter tank top underneath to keep me from bouncing too much. My breasts are not small but not huge, and I like being free from the confines of a bra. I walk for a few hundred feet then stop again to take in the beauty of the view.
I sense someone walking up behind me. I feel hands covering my eyes and hear a whisper in my ear, "Guess who?"
Of course, I've never heard you speak before, so I'm a bit confused and anxious at first. But when I hear the commanding tone of your voice, I just know that it can be only you, and it explains everything. I haven't heard from you because you've been travelling to surprise me.
A smile breaks across my face and I try to turn to greet you, excitement welling up inside me.
You grab my shoulders and keep me from turning. I try to crane my neck around to look at you, but I can't quite see you as you duck and turn away. It's too dark for me to see much anyway, and I tense up for a bit. Then your lips meet my right ear and whisper, "Just relax..."
I do. The timber of your voice soothes me and I lean back into you a bit. My butt immediately feels the hard rod in your pants, and strangely this makes me calm. Sexually excited, but no longer jumpy and nervous.
Your arms encircle me and we both lean forward a bit, supported by the railing. You whisper in my ear again, "Have you been a good girl?" I nod. "Are you ready to be MY good girl?" I nod, too aware my voice would probably come out as a squeak, I'm so breathless. Of course you remember what I've said in our communication--calling me a 'good girl' is one of my hot buttons.
Your lips sear into the flesh on the back of my neck.
Oh, how I've been craving this.
Your hands move from my shoulders down to my arms, then rub their way up and around to my chest, slowly, agonizingly feeling my breasts over my top, just rubbing slowly, letting the tingling sink deep into my flesh. Your lips nibble on my ear and kiss softly behind it, once, twice. I'm moaning softly, and I can feel the desire running like a current through your body.
Then suddenly things turn. You grab my left hand and bring it behind me, and place it on your package, still hidden behind your shorts. You use one hand to pull down the elastic and slip my hand inside to feel your hardness. I immediately grab it and start lightly stroking you. I'm slowly feeling this cock I've been dreaming of for months, trying to gauge its size and imagining how it will feel splitting me open.
You growl, "Harder, slut."
Of course I obey and move my hand quickly over the hardest dick I have ever felt. After a few minutes, you stop me, as you want to hold out as long as possible. Out of nowhere, your other hand produces a couple of lengths of hemp rope and before I realize it, my right hand is lashed to the railing and my left hand is being held in place for the same treatment.
I try to look at you as you are doing this, but all I can see is your earlobe, as you are wearing a dark baseball cap low over your eyes, probably so I wouldn't recognize you if I turned before you got to me. You are focused on your task, bent over to make sure the knots are secure.
Once my arms are secured I feel your foot kick my right leg out and you lean down and tie it to the bottom of the rail and then the same with my left. My skirt has ridden up a bit so the bottom of my ass is feeling the night air and my eyes are closed, just melting into the sensations.
