[This story was inspired by events that haven't happened yet. It includes D/s, oral, anal, coitus, bondage, some pain, and lots of trust. Comments are welcome.]
Seven months prelude, lead-up, foreplay, if you will. I read her posted story. She read three of mine. An email. A week later, another. Then two in a week. More emails. I read her other stories and poem. More details shared than were in the posted profiles. I was interested from the first email.
My story was about being introduced to D/s. She surmised that I knew something about what I wrote. I did. My introduction was a lot like the one in the story, without a trip to Chicago. Things change. The women in the story are no longer in my life. When my heart stops hurting enough I may write about the ending. It only took ten years to write about the beginning.
She asked good questions right from our beginning. I answered and wondered where she was in "the lifestyle." Curious from a distance, curious from a new D/s relationship, from inside a long relationship, or curious because what I wrote about was so alien from her experience? Over time I got answers to those questions. She had been curious and now was getting ready to take another step forward.
My approach was slow and respectful. Let her tell me what she wanted me to know. I knew that, in my experience, a sub needs to establish such a high level of trust that any hurrying may end the relationship before it ever actually begins. I let her ask whatever she wanted to ask.
Over a period of years, I had read some bulletin board postings that began by answering a sub's first post with commands. How rude. I am not looking for someone who just accepts orders from anyone. First, we establish who I am and who she is, then, if we agree, we take one more step.
Opening post: "Hi. I'm looking for a f/t Dom. I'm forty-eight and divorced." First response: "You will answer the following questions and address me as Sir: (1) Give me your statistics. (2) Send me a picture of you nude. (3) Be prepared to move to the east coast."
I am not a predator. The man who posted that response was a predator, in my opinion. He was looking for a victim. Not my style.
Her writing showed me she wanted a man who would stretch her. If she could trust him she could allow him to guide and lead her toward a life more filled with excitement and joy. She saw something in my writing that said I might be someone who could do that.
We explored our beliefs about life, love, caring, sex, pain and comfort. Emails became almost daily. We wrote and I noticed that she addressed me as Sir, always. She wrote in submissive terms. "If it please you..." "If I am not intruding..."
At some point I requested her phone number. It was not a command. She was not mine to command. Even if she were I would state my commands as requests. She gave it. I requested a time when she would accept a call from me. I called at that time.
We spoke for exactly fifteen minutes. I had asked for no more than fifteen minutes. Ending on time demonstrated my willingness to abide by her limits and not push past them. The email follow-up was excited and pleased with the phone call.
I called once a week for a month. In the last call she asked if she could have more. "Please, Tell me what you want."
"I want more time with you, Sir."
"More time in emails, more time on the phone, what?"
"Whatever you are willing to give me, Sir."
Weeks of more and longer calls followed. We played during some of the calls. Not just sex play, but certainly a little of that. She asked questions that had her learn more about my preferences.
"What kinds of things to you like to eat, Sir?" "Do you prefer a woman in dresses or are pants Ok too?" "If a woman wears red do you like it or hate it?"
After a hundred of these questions she asked, "Do you want to know my favorite foods, color, music?"
"Are you willing to live a life with none of those things, if that would please your Master?" I asked, in answer.
A long pause followed my question. "If he was truly my Master, yes!"
"Who decides if he is your Master?"
Another pause. "I do, Sir."
"Any one who would want to impose a Dom relationship is not the Dom I would even want as a friend. I want any sub who is mine to come to me, willingly, offer herself freely and to love her choice."
"Sir, may I ask for something?"
"Of course. Asking does not guarantee the answer is yes."
"I would like to be with you."
"You know you must tell me exactly what you want."
"I would like to meet you somewhere for a weekend and spend the weekend with you." She spoke quickly, as if that would make me more agreeable.
"Where would you like to have this happen?"
"I am in Vermont. You are in California. Somewhere in between?"
"Can you go to Denver the first weekend of next month without being on your period?"
"Yes! Sir."
"Then we will meet there, if you agree. I will make reservations for us and will email the details to you. You agree to tell someone where you will be and to set a time to call them from Denver on Saturday and early Sunday so they know you are safe."
"Yes, I can do that."
"Are you intending that during this weekend you will be my sub?"
"Yes, if that would please you, Sir." Her voice was soft.
"I would like that very much. That means that you will come to me prepared to give me whatever pleasure I might desire from you?"
"I trust you, Sir."
I concluded the call and went to my computer. An hour later I had found a quiet B & B not far outside Denver. It had small cabins and a main house. I booked a small cabin. I booked it and sent the details to her.
The next day I sent her an email and the text said, "I arrive in Denver at 2:10pm. What time will you arrive?"
An hour later while I worked on my computer it dinged and the message was from her. "My plane arrives at 3:15pm United."
I sent an email back that said, "292 hours. I am excited."
The evening before our flights I got an email that asked, "Is there anything you want me to pack, bring, wear?"
I called her. She answered and I said, "Are you thinking about Denver?"
"Yes, Sir! I can hardly think of anything else."
"Have you a pen and paper handy?"