Deliverance Ch 01

My mind raced with a million thoughts, and I wondered how this all came to be. It was never what I intended and nothing close to anything I had ever dreamed. I felt whole . . . amazing how it took giving myself up to feel that completion. I've discovered who I am and who I can become. It was all so surreal. I've read of these things, but never believed they could gain substance and become tangible. Words like submission and slavery are thrown around, without any perception of what they really mean, of what they could mean.

"A woman on her knees truly is a most beautiful site." He spoke as he crossed the room. My eyes, cast downward, followed each step. He rested himself in a chair and patted his leg. I crawled to him and laid my head in his lap. As he stroked my hair nothing else seemed to matter. There was safety in his presence. I knew that, but more importantly, I felt it. It was not a simple task to make my worry disappear. But he managed to erase it all with one commanding look. I trusted him and that was vital, because I gave him not only my body, but my life as well. In return he gave me serenity and freedom, freedom from control. I was no longer conflicted with those menial decisions, what to wear, how to style my hair and so forth. All of these things now rested in his hands. He started slowly, but he was consuming me. And I knew that there was much more to come, each step more in depth than the last. He never pressured, never needed to. It was as if he could see into my mind. He knew what I was ready for and how to push just enough to expand my limits, without going too far.

"Look up pet."

"Yes, Master."

"Are you ready pet?"

I smiled at his question. He knew the answer, but wanted to hear me say it, "Yes, Master."

"Crawl over to the table and retrieve that rope for me."

"Yes, Master." His commands always required a reply. For each of us, the obedience meant so much more than any sexual act could. I crawled across the room, and I could feel his eyes on me. When I approached the table, I leaned up on the tips of my fingers, making certain to never let them leave the floor. I grasped the rope in my teeth. Then slowly, deliberately, knowing how much he enjoyed watching each movement, I turned and crawled back to him.

I dropped the rope at his feet and stayed on all fours before him. He picked up the rope and stood. He placed two fingers under my chin and raised my head so that I was looking him in the eye. "Such a good girl you are."

"Thank you, Master." He smiled down at me before gently pulling me up on my knees and walking behind me. He took my hands behind my back and melodically tied my wrists together, tight enough that I could feel each bristle of the rope. He ran his fingers over my shoulders and down the sides of the black lace camisole he had picked out for me that night. He slipped one hand inside the camisole and around my breast. He ran his thumb over my nipple, causing me to gasp. Abruptly, he pinched my nipple, "Who do you belong to?"

"I belong to you, Master."

"And what are you?"

"I am your slave, Master."

"Good girl." He removed his hand from my breast and came to stand in front of me. He wore only a pair of shorts, but quickly gestured for me to remove them. It was a bit awkward pulling on them with my teeth, but I managed. He ran his fingers through my hair and grabbed it at the base of my neck. My mouth gaped open, waiting, yearning for him. When he finally slammed his cock into my mouth, my lips wrapped around him, and I savored the taste. He fucked my mouth feverishly, and I heard him moan as my tongue worked every inch of him. I could feel him getting close and he slowed down slightly before forcing his cock down my throat. My panties became soaked as I heard, felt, and tasted him come. He pulled away from me and smiled.

"Thank you, Master."

"You are welcome, pet." He untied the rope and gently massaged my shoulders for a moment before sitting back in his chair. "Fuck your cunt for me."

"Yes, Master." I placed a hand down my panties and finger inside of myself. I was dripping and so close to orgasm as I slid my finger in and out of my pussy, faster and faster.

"Remove your panties and then get back on your knees. Fuck yourself with two fingers and use your other hand to rub your clit."

"Yes, Master." I quickly did as I was commanded, never questioning, never doubting. I was on the verge of coming and knew it wouldn't take much more. "Please Master, may I come?"

"Not yet pet." I sighed in frustration and slowed my fingers. "Don't slow down," he commanded

"Yes, Master." I couldn't hold out much longer. And I know he enjoyed the pained expression on my face. After what felt like an eternity, he spoke, "Come now, my pet."

"Yeeessss, Maaassttteeerrr." An ocean of pleasure fell upon me. I moaned and gasped, my body shaking. How incredible to be able to give myself this kind of gratification. It was so much more than any time I've masturbated before. I took immense joy in the approval my Master showed. He patted his leg again, and I crawled to him, still panting. I laid my head back in his lap and softly whispered, "Thank you, Master."

"You are welcome. The night is young, pet, and we've only just started."

I dozed off for a bit, kneeling in front of him. I dreamt of everything from the months prior to this meeting. It started so obscure and I would never have believed you then if you told me this is where we were headed.

* * * * *

It was a Monday night and the bar was virtually empty, as per usual. I had been a Monday night regular for months now and the bartender didn't even know my name, nor I his. But he did manage to have my drink - vodka martini, dry, two olives - in front of my regular stool before I even sat down. I gave him a weak smile as I sipped my drink. I lit a cigarette and turned to watch the game - not that I really knew what I was watching. This was my ritual, though I was beginning to wonder what purpose it served. A few hours of avoidance from my empty apartment and that was all. I promised myself I was going to get out more and meet people, but I was clumsy and self-doubting. In three months I hadn't spoken to one person in that bar, save the nameless bartender when I ordered my drink the first few times.

I managed a small advertising firm and I was successful in my work, though that was in part because it was all I really had. I lived and breathed my work as a way to escape the pressures of what lurked outside. My only other venture was this Monday night ritual, this pitiful example to myself that I was making an effort.

I took one last drag from my cigarette and stubbed in out in the ash tray before turning on my bar stool to step down. In my attempt to be smooth in my movements I ended up getting my foot caught on the crossbar. I stumbled forward and fell face down. I laid there for a minute, paralyzed from embarrassment. I imagined the mocking faces of the few patrons that sat around me, but instead I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, "Let me help you up." I pushed up and while wanting to look at this kind stranger's face, I kept focused on the floor. "Are you hurt at all? Besides your ego, I mean." I could hear the smile in his voice, and I faintly returned one.

"I banged my knee pretty bad. Otherwise, I'm okay."

"Thomas, get me some ice," the stranger called to the bartender. 'So that's his name' I thought and I smiled, almost laughed at the whole situation. Thomas returned quickly with some ice wrapped in a towel and handed it to the stranger. I was sitting now with my knees pulled to my chest. The stranger gently held the ice on my swollen knee. A soft, barely audible "thank you," was all I could muster up the courage to say.

He took my hand in his and lightly helped me to my feet. I moved toward my bar stool to sit down, but he stopped me. "Please, come sit with me at that booth." He gestured to the corner where his drink sat at one of the booths. I nodded and stumbled over to the table holding the ice on my knee, while he grabbed my drink and my pocketbook. I slid into the corner of the booth, lifting my leg to rest on the seat cushion. He sat opposite me and placed my drink and my purse down on the table. I quickly took my drink and finished it in one gulp. The momentum of my heartbeat was reminiscent of my high school days. I didn't quite understand what I was feeling. "Would you like another drink?" he asked smiling, as if he enjoyed my discomfort.

"Please." I answered, and I watched him motion for Thomas to bring me another drink. Thomas quickly obliged and with my fresh drink in front of me, I found myself in the midst of a very awkward silence. I slowly raised my head to look at this stranger for the first time, and I was caught instantly in his gaze. His dark eyes seemed to speak directly to me, and I found myself suddenly wanting to know everything about him. He was the first to break the silence, though that was certainly no surprise, "Since you have agreed to sit and have a drink with me, would you tell me your name?"

I smirked, "Grace."

"Such a beautiful name."

"Even if it is a misnomer."

He smiled again. I couldn't believe I was having a conversation with this man . . . And that I was beginning to feel comfortable with him. "Well, Grace, it is a pleasure to meet you. I'm Brian." He extend his hand for me to take. His grip was strong and powerful, but soft. "I must admit, Grace, that I have been watching you for quite some time now." I was taken aback and my comfort shifted some. "Please don't take that the wrong way. I just mean that I have been a Monday night regular for years now, and I noticed you have made this your home as well for the past few months."

"I suppose I have."

"But you always keep to yourself. I've never even seen you have a conversation with the bartender."

"I guess I'm just not that outgoing."

"Well, I have to say, you're bruised knee aside, I'm happy you fell because it gave me a reason to talk to you." It was such a line, but it felt sincere coming from him. I smiled, not quite sure what to say next. I finished my drink and proceeded to examine the backs of my hands. "Would you like another?" he asked.

"Oh, no. Thank you. I think 2 is enough for me on a Monday night. In fact I think I should get going. I have to be up early and all." I fumbled through my pocketbook searching for my wallet.

"I understand if you must go, but please, your drinks are on me."

"Oh, thank you, but I couldn't"

He took my hand and looked me in the eye, "you can and you will. I've enjoyed your company, and I would like to pay for your drinks." It was commanding, but not forceful. I stopped questioning him at that point and felt a shiver run through my body. Subconsciously I knew something had changed in that instant, but it would be several weeks before I knew what it was. "Enjoy the rest of your night, Grace. And I look forward to seeing you next Monday."

"Thank you, Brian, for everything." I picked up my pocketbook and walked out of the bar, limping slightly. My body was aching, and it had nothing to do with the fall. When I got into my car, I must have sat there for ten minutes or more before even putting the key in the ignition. How could such a short meeting have impacted me this much? I still can't answer that, but it did give me plenty to think about the next 7 nights as I slept alone.

* * * * *

I felt something against my cheek and shook my head slightly to shoo it away, but it remained. "Grace, my pet. It's time to wake up." I squinted a bit and looked up at my Master smiling at me.

"I'm sorry Master, I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"Nonsense, pet. If I didn't want you to sleep I would have woken you up earlier. Do you feel rested?"

"Yes, Master."

"Very good. Then it is time to continue."