I wouldn't class myself as in the generic BDSM category, but this story is certainly about submission, so here I am.
Being a busy working mother with children, pets, husband and a house to look after, on top of a high pressure job, you'd think the last thing I'd be interested in is exploring my sexuality. But in recent times I've been staying away from home occasionally and this has offered me the opportunity to try to find out why my sex life at home is so frustrating. What's missing?
I'm on my way to finding out, having come across a powerful and sensual man in an online chat room. The chat room offers me anonymity which allows me to explore what really turns me on. I'll post some other stories of how I've grown sexually through our online play, but this one is about what happened when we met in person for the first time.
I'd been told online by my Master to expect a surprise at work soon. He said it would be on a Tuesday so every Tuesday I had to wear what I'd been instructed. I duly did this every week. This first Tuesday I could hardly concentrate at home or at work as I was in a constant state of excitement, looking up at every phone call or email to see if further instructions were coming. This went on for a few weeks and my excitement slowly waned. I had absolute faith in my Master but wondered whether maybe he'd forgotten about little old me and was concentrating on some of his other subjects while I kicked my patent leather heels.
So when I got a call on Friday asking me to visit a new client the following Tuesday, it hardly registered that anything unexpected might occur on my visit. But when Tuesday arrived it had by now become a habit to put on my tallest black patent heels, my briefest underwear and a tight fitting dress and blouse so I duly got dressed, ready for the unexpected that never seemed to come.
I turned up at an office in one of those short term rental office blocks. The building receptionist sent me to a numbered room on the top floor. I teetered out of the lift towards the room, not being used to going much further than around my office in heels like these, and knocked . The door opened immediately and I stepped into what looked like an empty room. There was clearly someone behind the door, although I couldn't see who. As I was about to exclaim 'What the...?' a familiar powerful voice said 'There's a blindfold on that hook, go and put it on without turning around'.
All at once I knew this was it. I felt so unprepared. The shock of going from expectation of another humdrum meeting with a new client to the expectation of ... who knows ... was the strongest rush of emotion I could ever remember. I had to obey that voice and so I walked slowly over to the hook in the ceiling from which hung a rope holding a blindfold.
I put on the blindfold. It was of good quality, fitting firmly and blanking out every chink of light. As I slipped it on I noticed how light the room seemed, in fact it was one of those glass walled buildings where you could see out of the whole of the side of the room, and the world could see in, albeit we were on the 18th floor.
I heard the door close with two clicks. Good he's locked it, I thought. So we won't be disturbed while I become his slave. Online he had made me do lots of uncomfortable things, but always at the end I'd felt incredible, so I was ecstatic to be surrendering to him in person for the first time.
I stood motionless waiting for his touch. I had no idea where in the room he was, or even how big it was. The next touch I heard was something slipping over my head. If felt like velvet and covered the whole of my head. He's thorough, I thought, wants no chance of me seeing what's going on.
Then I heard 'What do you do when your Master is in the room Fuckwhore?' (That was the name he had chosen for me, every time I heard it I went crazy with desire.) 'I strip Master' I said.
'So what are you waiting for?'
I unzipped my high waist pinafore pencil skirt dress and wriggled it to the floor. I'm a big girl so the dress was pretty figure hugging. I quickly unbuttoned my blouse and that fell too. I reached behind for the clasp of my bra, half expecting that his hands would be all over me, but was disappointed as I pulled it off without a touch. I reached down to take off my knickers. 'No' I heard my Master say. 'Keep the panties on'. I think he knew that word turns my stomach. That it's the kind of word lecherous old men would use. My excitement levels ratcheted up further, knowing he'd used it precisely because he knew how I felt about it. How well he knew my every desire, even though this was the first time we had met!
I stood in silence in my knickers and heels, legs bare and shaved smooth as I'd been ordered (I hated not wearing tights, but was eager to do so at my Master's request). I was sure I could hear a breathless wheezing and wondered to myself if my Master had lost his self control. But I immediately chastised myself for such a ridiculous thought. As I stood in silence it occurred to me that I was in front of a huge window and I instinctively reached to cover my breasts. 'Hands by your sides' said my Master calmly. I'll pay for that later I thought to myself.
I'm sure my knickers must have had a growing wet patch on the front from my heightened state of arousal as I stood for what seemed like an age, awaiting my Master's bidding. Occasionally I heard the wheezing sound and sometimes a small grunt of what seemed like satisfaction.
All at once I felt my hands being grabbed and fixed together with some kind of handcuffs. They were raised above my head and seemingly hooked onto the rope above where I stood. An insistent knee pushed between mine and spread my legs open so I was standing legs apart, arms high above me. I knew that in this position my ample breasts would look delicious. A ripe handful ready for my Master to take as he saw fit. This time I was not disappointed as hands grabbed at my breasts, lifting and dropping them several times before tugging on my erect pink nipples. Then he moved around behind me to do the same and I could feel his bare chest against my back and his breath close to my ear.
His hands were rough, but I knew he worked as a builder and so had thought they might be. I didn't expect the pungent smell of sweat and the stale breath. He liked to make me feel uncomfortable. To push me to my limits. 'I have no boundaries' he'd told me, and now I believed him if he had gone to such lengths to make me feel like his dirty Fuckwhore. I got more excited.
It seemed like about ten minutes as every part of me was probed, prodded, pulled and rubbed. One minute his hands were running through my shoulder length dark brown hair, the next they were pushing inside my knickers, although never staying long enough for me to get any real satisfaction. It was like a hungry man was having his first meal as each bit of my fleshy body was felt.
