Giving It All Away Ch 01

Chapter 1 of a fantasy story - I will write more if people like it...

The room is quiet and dark, the woman sitting on the only chair is waiting. She is in her late 30's; attractive with large, heavy breasts and a trim, curvaceous figure. She is dressed in a skirt that is too short for her, a top that is very low and shows off her cleavage and her long legs are encased in black stockings.

She is waiting, nervous but also excited, she knows what she has asked for but has no idea how this will be carried out. It is what she has asked for that keeps going around her mind; that and the thought that the man she has asked is clever, imaginative and knows her desires very well. She is waiting for sex. She is waiting for a type of sex only this man can bring her and only in this way.

She is waiting. The room is made for waiting. There is nothing to stimulate the senses of distract the mind. Inside the plain, dark walls, there is a plain, dark leather chair; a dark wooden table where a glass of chilled white wine is sitting and a small lamp in the corner giving off a slight, low glow. In the corner is a door; simple, plain, dark. There is no clock, no ornaments and there are no pictures on the walls, nothing to indicate what this room is a precursor to or prepares it's occupant for.

She is waiting and any second now, the wait will be over. She checks her emotions. Nervousness is increasing because she knows that the effort is just about to begin.

The light flickers off and back on again. This is the signal she has been waiting for. Knowing what to do is critical, it demonstrates her training and her tacit acknowledgement of her role and place in this tableau. She stands up and moves away from the chair, legs apart and hands behind her back and looking down at the floor, chin on her chest. Whilst she is still, she notices her breathing rate has increased; consciously she takes a slower, deeper breath.

The door opens; a man dressed simply in black jeans, dark shoes and a black T-shirt walk into the room. He is clean shaven, with close cropped hair and no watch or jewellery. He walks over to her as she waits.

"Good evening slut" he whispers, "are you ready?"

"Yes sir"

He walks around her, dragging his finger along the base of her spine. She feels a familiar electric glow created by the power in the room and her willingness to let it flow.

While behind her he pulls a dark piece of material from his pocket and suddenly, with no sound or warning, pulls it over her head, completely blocking out the little light. She gasps, sense suddenly heightened; more aware of the silence. The length of material totally encases her head, cover her face from neck to the top of her head. She feels him walk around her; looking.

"When you wrote to me this time you asked for complete abandonment; you said you wanted to be completely abused with no thought for your feelings or humanity; is that the case?" He says it coldly, with no emotion considering the remarkable nature of the statement.

"Yes sir" she swallows "I need to be dehumanised, made to feel like only my body matters. I want the exquisite pain of the whips and the clamps and whatever else you want to do to me. I want to serve you with my suffering. I want... I need you to use me." She can feel her breath rising again as she says this out loud. Writing it to him was one thing, admitting it in the open, out-loud brought it all home to her. She could feel her pussy throb slightly in response. The thing was, he knew it, she didn't know how but he always seemed to know how her body would react to this sort of talk. He reaches forward and grabs at her crotch; pushing her knickers to one side he pushes his finger into her already wet pussy, stirring around the lips and then inside her.

She moans and instinctively moves her hips forward; "Stay still bitch", he snaps "do you think I am doing this to please you?"

"No sir, sorry sir" she gasps slightly as he puts his hand against her face; a small warning.

He takes his fingers from inside her and rubs the material from her knickers over her clit, she moans again as the lace scrapes against her and his rubbing becomes harder.

"Have you worn this outfit all day as I demanded?" "Yes sir, I went to work dressed like this, just as you told me to"

"And...how did that make you feel?" he asks

Oh, how did he always know this stuff in her head, what she had been thinking about all day? "Dirty sir, I could see them all in my office, looking at me, looking at my body and wondering how I could dress like this"

"And do you know why I did that to you?"

"To make me feel dirty and slutty sir, to remind me of my place" again, saying it out loud was a cathartic turn on.

"Yes, that is true, but it does have another function in your evening." She can hear the smile in his voice as he pulls her oh, too short skit up around her hips, exposing her suspenders, belt and tiny panties. They have been bothering her all day because she never wore this type of outfit normally; they had been too uncomfortable and too exposing for her. But they had had the desired effect, she had not stopped thinking of her body all day and had been made to feel like an object; everything sir had wanted she supposed.

As she reflected, she felt something cold against her skin. There is a snip and her knickers are loose around her waist. She realises he has cut her knickers, there is another snip at her other hip and she can feel his pull her knickers through her pussy lips. It is now she realises that she is hopelessly wet with desire, the knickers slip through her and into his hand. What was it he said about another function...?

Suddenly there is a chink of light as the blindfold is lifted from the bottom "open wide" he says. She obeys and can feel him stuff her slick, damp knickers into her mouth. "You were made to wear it all day so that when I shoved your knickers in your mouth you would be thinking about the fact you had worn them all day and that they smell of you and everything you have done. And, in order to get your sexual kicks, you now have to realise that you are willing to gag on your own, wet panties. How does that feel??"

He knew, and so did she because all the way through that little speech her pussy had begun to leak slightly onto her leg. Stood there with her panties in her mouth and her skirt around her waist. She felt absolutely filthy and demanded. But she knew, he had only just got started.

"Filthy" she mumbles through the gag. "Filthy sir."