After 10 years of self-imposed celibacy, she had finally plucked up the courage to join an app that matched submissives to dominants. It still wouldn't be easy, as she trawled through countless profiles, only to be met by a collection of 'dick pics' that, together, could create a contemporary piece Tracy Emin would've been proud of.
A bigger problem was the sub 'frenzy' that had hit almost instantaneously the second she'd made the decision to explore the dormant, submissive side of herself.
She now spent her days in an almost unendurable state of arousal; cunt wet, nipples sensitive to even a whisper of a touch, permanently on the edge of orgasm.
She'd researched online, learning everything and nothing.
There was still no dominant.
Finally she'd found him...or had he found her?
She had looked at his profile several times before, drawn to a photo of him on the beach, but she had reservations because he was younger than she was.
Serendipity, perhaps? The first exchange didn't go well, with her ranting about the latest idiot who had told her to kneel and suck his cock as an opener on the app.
But her soon-to-be dominant had been good natured and sympathetic.
In only a few days they had progressed to the telephone.
Any resistance she had dissolved as her already aching pussy became her pulsating, dripping centre, as his smooth voice teased and caressed her amid seemingly innocuous conversations.
When he suggested they meet , her now constant longing for him overrode any common sense and she invited him to her home.
His instructions were clear in terms of her presentation: Bra, panties, suspenders, stockings, high heels and make-up, things that went against her usual understated look.
The day arrived and here she was, waiting. The butterflies in her stomach were more like the size of elephants; her desire tinged with a potent mix of anticipation and fear.
She heard a car pull up and peaked through the window, a black Mercedes; an appropriate steed for her dark master she later realised.
Footsteps on the path, sending the 'elephants' in her tummy stampeding.
Shaking hands after opening the door, the irony of him being a 'tall, dark stranger' crossed her mind, fleetingly.
He stepped in, with a cheeky grin that was somewhat at odds with this serious, suited man. She looked again past the smile to his eyes.
'Dominance': she'd read the definition. It meant power and influence over others. The man in front of her exuded it with his every breathe.
She took him in, short dark hair, dark brown intelligent, inquisitive eyes, tall with a strong manly physique; all alpha male wrapped in a sharp suit.
In a heartbeat, he had her long, dark hair wrapped in his fist, pulling her head back and taking control.
"There is no easing into this," he told her as a way of explanation, as he propelled her up the stairs to the bedroom.
Her bedroom until now, comfort and security, transformed into desire tinged with fear.
She was guided to her knees and was now close enough to breathe in his musky scent. He removed his clothes and her eyes moved along the contours of his cock just millimetres away from her now salivating mouth. Her cunt flooded as she thought about licking his shaft.
A groan escaped her and was met with an answering chuckle from the man she had met in the flesh only moments earlier.
She was a virgin in terms of submission, and she felt it keenly, but at the same time this felt so right to her. Her feminist side balked at the thought but there was no denying it.
Her want was rapidly becoming a need as he continued to tease her with the sight of his beautiful, hard cock.
"Tell me what you want," he said.
She answered him hesitantly. "I want to suck your cock." A hard slap to the face left her reeling with humiliation, but her pussy gushed and her desire spiralled even higher.
"What do you call me? Have you forgotten already?"
