Adele closed the side door to her house. A cold winter's night wind blew at her, twisting up under her trench coat. Even if she had any clothes on underneath her bulky coat this was the kind of wind that blows right through a person and she shivered. Her petite body was not built to withstand this kind of chill. She adjusted her shoulders under the coat. She twisted her hips, trying to get comfortable. Adele blinked slowly and breathed heavily. Her little heart was beating as if she had just finished a workout at her gym.
Was this a good idea?
Her red heels clacked against the footpath as she made her way to her car. Adele fumbled in the pocket of her thick black coat for her keys. Her breath fogged the air in front of her as she approached the car, her chest heaving in small ragged breaths. Her head was a mess of thoughts. Nervous thoughts one second, blissful thoughts the next. All were erotic and twisted though.
In her twenty two years of life she had never done anything this insane.
She turned the ignition and pulled her car out down her driveway into the street. Her headlights pointed into the blackness ahead of her. Putting her car into gear Adele drove her tiny Toyota away from her house. She glanced at herself in the rear view mirror. Her long black hair fell over her eyes as usual, what was different tonight was the look in her eyes. A look of pure animal desperation. Adele felt the satin inside of her expensive trench coat caress the slender curves of her body. Her hips, her small belly, her nipples. She was going to give her body up tonight.
It was almost 9 o'clock. If she got there even a minute too late would she pay for it? Would he punish her in various deliciously painful ways? Or worse, would he not even open his door to her?
Adele's car sat purring at the traffic lights. The radio was buzzing in her ears. She reached her elegant hand out to switch the noise off. Turning the radio off she was puzzled to find the buzzing continue. Her head was scattered. Her heart was racing. She looked at the ring her father had bought her when she turned thirteen which had never left her hand since. It sat comfortably on her middle finger and shone incandescently in the flickering lights of the road at night. Traffic lights, street lights, car lights. A car pulled up beside Adele as she waited at the red. She nervously kept her eyes away from the driver.
Could he tell that she was naked beneath the coat? Could he? Could he read her nervous eyes and tell what her night was about to become?
Adele heard the motor of the car beside her rumble back to life as it sped off. Her eyes had been fixated on an arbitrary point on the dashboard ahead of her and meanwhile the lights had turned green. The car behind her honked and she put it into first and began to move.
"You are pathetic," Adele said to herself in the mirror in a whisper.
Still, though, her body rubbed sensuously against the coat. Adele felt the smooth skin of her ass, the folds of her cheeks as she had never before. She had never imagined something as simple as driving would be so arousing. Adele had Dr Herrington to thank for that.
Two hours ago Adele had come out of a warm shower, dried off, and settled in front of her laptop in a worn singlet and comfortable panties. She had come home from work with a sense of lust and a feeling of arousal. Finding a free chat site through a search engine Adele logged on under the name LilAdele as she dried her black hair with a fluffy towel. It didn't take long to get a reply.
The repetitive clicking of the indicator broke Adele out of her haze. Dr Herrington lived on the other side of the city in a very rich suburb. The arrow went green and Adele started the car again. The good doctor was fifty five, Adele was twenty two.
Would age be a problem? He was almost as old as her father.
Adele thought of her father again. She glanced at her ring. Imagine if he knew how kinky his daughter was. How disgusting. How common and primal she was. It wasn't his fault she was a submissive. Hell, it wasn't Adele's fault either, that was just the way her body and mind was wired. And if Dr Herrington was the man who knew how to handle her fetishes then what difference does it make how old he is? Right?
He was practically the same age as her father.
Adele tried to put the thought of her father out of her mind as she overtook a car going slower than the limit. Her family had no place in the sadistic coupling she was planning on tonight. Planning on wasn't even the right word -- agreed on. She had agreed to be at this man's house at 9 o'clock and as a submissive it would be wrong of her to do otherwise. He was expecting his new slave.
Could she be a slave to a stranger?
It was far easier online. After giving the flick to a few eager males who slipped the phrase "do u have ne pics?" in after the third line, Adele found herself intrigued at the responses from a man calling himself Relic123. This user was clearly aware of her submissive nature, or at least treated all females like this, and was getting through to her. As she replied to this man she found herself squirming in her panties on the comfortable computer chair.
The clock in Adele's car ticked over to 8:47pm. She looked over on the passenger seat where her handbag was. What good was a handbag going to do her here? Inside it though, rather than her usual odds and ends, were her two favourite sex toys, as instructed to bring by her new master. She had selected a butt plug and her leash, which had made this man pleased online. Now those toys sat nicely in her Marc Jacobs handbag. The butt plug was a toy she had bought herself as she did find herself horny from time to time and dropping to all fours with a plug in her worthless ass all night did make her feel insatiable. The leash however was a remainder from her one and only ex master -- Simon, a businessman who had moved to Malaysia about a year ago. Her friends and family thought he was her boyfriend, nobody knew that he was her Master and was using her like a slave dog every night.
Would this new master use her like this?
He would say "bark like a dog" and Adele would obey. He would say "fetch" and she would run on all fours and retrieve whatever object he'd thrown with her mouth. He would say "clean me doggy" and she would lick his balls and asshole with her tongue. He would fuck her and go to sleep leaving her chained to his bedpost to find her own comfortable position on the floor. He would have her go to the toilet outside in the open by the cover of darkness. Simon would force her to cum with a vibrator looking at videos or pictures of subjects that would normally not have aroused her -- films of bestiality, sounds of a voice insulting her, pictures of her sister Lucy. What Simon said, Adele did. The thought of her old master flooded Adele's shaved pussy, moistening her trench coat, but also brought her to the edge of tears. Her chest swelled up and her bottom lip curled slightly.
