Feeling the warmth of the sun on my face I woke. I smiled a child like smile to the world. A world being seen for the first time. How did the same world see me? I don't know, I do know its perception of me will be totally different by tonight.
Given what was to come, I felt strangely calm as I leaned against the windowsill. The sun mirrored my mood as it dragged itself off the purple hued mountains to the East. Would that be his direction, East? Where do the international flights come from? I smiled, making a mental note. I'd have to ask him later.
Later! The word draped itself across my soul. No snatched phone calls, cyber chat, or flying three day visits. Later meant face to face, in our home...forever.
Closing my eyes, I remember the night we met... a scared little sparrow, and he the watchful giant... so much larger than life, so full of knowledge I didn't understand existed. He was friendly, and although I could not see his face, I knew he had to be handsome. Like a moth to flame I was drawn. Things stirred in me only he could see. I'd never believed in love at first sight till that night. Now I am living proof it exists. I look at the changes to come, and it is almost with shock I realize those changes began with that first meeting.
Many nights of long almost romantic chats followed. So many questions. Yet he always had the answers. I'd had a vague idea of how a Master should act, but he seemed to break the rules. He filled my head with smells of desire, the need for obedience, encouragement, and of acceptance. Never did he force me, berate me, or harass me. Those nights were filled with his masterful commands, edged with respect and understanding. Without even realizing it I opened to him like a flower onto the sun. I let him explore my darkest places, my weakness, and the things that make me vulnerable. Never did he judge, ridicule, or laugh at my lack of knowledge. Never did I feel I didn't belong.
Then one night he said the words. "We need to meet." My heart nearly stopped, my body reacted with amazing intensity.
"Yes Sir." I whispered. "When?"
"Little one that would be too easy." He laughed. He went on to give me a window of dates, be ready, you'll never know when. I nearly died at the thought, but the chance to feel whole, and complete was too much to pass up.
"I would be honored Sir." I was almost in orgasmic bliss by then.
I was beginning to worry. Five days into the two-week period I'd heard nothing. No phone-calls, emails...anything. Had something happened? Had he changed his mind? Decided I was not worth the effort after all.
Then I heard the door.
"Oh God, it was him. It had to be him.... Please be him.
He found me in the kitchen, preparing dinner for the night. His face was hard, yet even. It wasn't anger. I learned it was the look he always got at these moments. "Every scene needs be crafted, fussed over, focused like a three course meal." I soon understood exactly he meant
In silence he came to me. Just stood there, staring, looking straight into my eyes. I wanted to greet him, welcome him.... Say anything. But that look...my mouth...mind...froze. The image of the moth and the flame danced in my mind's eye.
Instinctively I lifted my hand toward him, our eyes never leaving each other. I felt comfortable warmth as his hand curved around mine. With a ghost of a smile he led me out of the kitchen. Never hesitating he took me into the bedroom, how did he know? I'd never told him the layout of the house. Again a question to ask later... as he continued on to my room. He paused at the foot of the bed. With a magician's skill, ropes appear tied to each corner of the bed. How long had he really been here? What had he seen of my life? Oh God the power of this man, where does it come from? If he'd said a word I would not have heard it. My heart was pounding in my ears; the short shallow breaths I'd been taking threatened me with hyperventilation.
He sensed the stress, the fear of the unknown. "Relax." He whispered softy, then moved to a chair in the corner. He sat, not offering another word, a finger resting on his chin, an``````````````e artist, not quiet sure where the next dab of paint was to go.
"What does he want." I searched his face for an answer. Nothing, it was typical of him. He always made me work for my knowledge. "Find it your own way." A favorite saying of his. "Then you will truly understand."
Then I realized. With a nervous half smile I reached for the first button of my blouse. The slight change in his face said, good girl, continue. The next button, he maintained the eye lock. The third brought an actual smile. The forth button completed the task. With a slight role of the shoulders I let the garment fall from me. Quickly my skirt joined it in a small pool at my feet.
Naked except for matching pink bra and thong, stockings, and my favorite 'fuck me' stilettos. Suddenly the lesson of this little pantomime flashed in my mind. He'd told me to be ready, always. He was checking, making sure I'd followed his instructions. He was strange like that; most Doms would punish me if I'd failed, not him. He has always appreciated effort, as long as he can see that I am trying, there would be only encouragement. The fact he was still sitting said he was pleased. A man of few words, he believed actions told the real story. I'd learned, he was right.
Very slowly with one finger he made a circling motion. Turn, I understood. I imagined the catwalks of Milan, slinky sluty fashion models. I began to move around, displaying his property, hopefully showing him the love and lust he generated in me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him stand.
"Come lay on the bed my slut."
"Yes Master." Had I passed his test? The answer had to be yes. He didn't look upset, angry, his face still held it's calm mask. On the bed I crawled to its exact center. I'd marked the spot days ago, should I tell him later. I'd guess he's already noticed.
My breath became ragged as I watched him take each leg and arm in turn and fasten me to the corner posts. Finished, he waited, just looking at me, at my body. Suddenly he reaches forward, skin on skin for the first time. A finger trails along my wrist to my arm, across my shoulder, back down the other side.
Oh God I want to scream, my body twitches from the sensations. My cunt explodes with lubricant. How can this man do this? Where does this power come from? With one finger he has turned me to a desperate nymphomaniac.
With a sinister chuckle he stops. My cheeks are glowing. My arse grinding into the bed. Oh fuck me fuck me, my mind screams. He bends...his breath hot on my thigh. My cunt juices more. Almost embarrassed. I can smell my sex filling the room. I feel his lips brush my burning flesh.
