Isabella And Darcy

There are many elements including personality, past experience, life in the present, desires, fantasies and objective knowledge that go into the formation of a BDSM partnership. And, you never know where a partner might come from or when they may mysteriously appear from another realm or part of the world and your entire being says this is the one, "this IS the one".

Just such a thing happen during the meeting of the experienced Mistress, Isabella and Darcy, the submissive man who would soon become her slave. He was from another country but was desperate t find his Mistress. He had looked in his own area and, never quite to Ms Isabella's satisfaction, tried to explained why he was unable to find that perfect Mistress somewhere closer to home. Ms. Isabella had dealt with so many inadequate slaves that she tended to doubt the words of all of them especially since their words all tended to be the same. A little variation here and there but the fact is they all swore the deepest devotion, great love and care to an unknown Mistress.

Isabella was always amazed and yet irritated that someone would pledge to serve a woman they did not know. All had become such a bore to her. But, this one was different. That is, if he were telling the truth. He had told Isabella that he once had a great love that betrayed him and in doing so made him feel less than a man, had belittled his manhood before she walked out on him. Isabella never knew for sure what made each man need her but she had, over the years, come to some basic conclusions. One of those was to give up the mental control in order to find their emotional strength again. This man fit those conclusions perfectly. And, he was quite handsome and had a cock that she knew she could work with and enjoy.

After many writings, messages, and phone conversations, they agreed to meet each other to see how things might work. It was a big step. This man, the first in a long time, wanted more than a Mistress, he needed to be a total slave but also wanted a woman to love and still be a man. A very tricky proposition for her to negotiate. Which role or need comes first is always the question, is it the love of the man and woman or the bond between the Mistress and the slave. And, was he really a slave? He'd never had a Mistress other than a couple of short trials and a couple of pro-Dommes.

However, his desires and a need to serve appeared to be very deep. It was possible that part of the way into his training he would realize that he did not want to "play this game". Isabella new that for Darcy to be a total slave to her she would have to create an unusual environment for him one which was often cruel, exacting, and demanding but full of respect, care and nurturing. He must know that he is a slave owned by Isabella for her pure enjoyment. If he received what he needed from it - fine - but what he would receive was the knowledge that he totally belonged to a powerful woman and no longer had any control over his life and the freedom to let go of himself and old wounds. Only if he could truly be her slave could she allow herself to love him as a man. Isabella shivered at the thought of the pure joy but possible disappointment that lie waiting for her.

Upon meeting, Isabella decided that the first step would be to touch him on the desiring, loving woman level. He had been alone for a long time. They met at the airport and without a word of introduction, Isabella kissed him and felt her own passions rising quite unexpectedly and it was evident to anyone who cared to look that Darcy's passion was already aflame. "Did you book us a hotel room?" Isabella asked? Darcy just stared at her eyes and was almost incapable of answering. He finally managed a soft raspy "yes". They got her bags and went straight to the hotel. Much to her own surprise, Isabella found that her desire for this man sitting next to her was mounting each moment. He was a good-looking man with somewhat delicate features but it was evident that he had worked hard all is life because he was very muscular and had a presence that announced control is his business life. She imagined the muscles in his ass rippling as he fucked her - fucked a woman for the first time in a long time. The trip to the hotel could not be fast enough.

The room was delightful and cool. He had already checked in and gathered fresh fruit, chocolates, champagne, and bottled water. Very few words had been spoken during the cab ride. There had been holding and touching of hands but all words seemed to have been stuck in each throat. Now, standing in the small but beautifully laid out room, they merely looked at each other. There was an intenseness that made the space between them seem as far away as when using the web cam of the pc to connect their two countries, but also so close that she imagined she could feel the skin of his body. Isabella realized that it was she who must make the first move. Still, with no words said aloud, she walked to Darcy and began to remove his clothing. He stood frozen. This beautiful, sensual man almost like a child, he merely held her gaze as he completely removed all clothing. He stood before her. His manhood was strong, erect, and pulsing. Tiny droplets of pre-cum moistened the head of this beautiful cock that she was now very sure she would own - this cock and the man who wore it, who would keep it for her - it was hers.

But, there were other things first. Isabella gently touched his entire body. As with Tantra exercises, she closed her eyes and gently touched every inch of his body. Feeling the muscles ripple and quiver made her quiver inside. Feeling his cock strain for her, becoming even more engorged and the soft moan from his lips as she gently touch his manhood, his balls, and dug her nails into his ass. Everything was slow and gentle to caress this man, this beautiful man who wanted to give himself to her. Darcy continued to be fixated on her eyes, so deep a shade of blue and so intense wondering if what he saw was her own desire or just a Mistress inspecting. He felt his breathing become shallow and disjointed. His cock betrayed his feelings and now it seemed that his whole body was going to somehow betray him, tell her too much too soon, tell him too much too soon, oh god.

Isabella directed him to the bed and laid him down. He was so beautiful lying there; his eyes full of desire and - was that love? How could that be? How could this beautiful specimen find love in her when he did not even really know her - but knowing a part of her, she was about to change? Isabella very gently and slowly took off her own clothes. She was a beautiful woman she knew that but she also knew that her body was far less than perfect and was looking for any sign that he found her less than his dreams. All she saw was more admiration and a cock that now struggled to touch her body. Again, she touched all of his body, softy and gently.

This time Darcy closed his eyes and his little moans were barely audible. His breathing was faster and shallow and as he grinded his hips ever so slightly he reached his arms out to grips the bed as if in invisible bondage. Isabella wanted to slow things down. Slow herself down. She managed to find her voice and asked if he would help her bathe after such a long flight. She held out a hand to him and he, still saying not a word, took her hand and led her to the bathroom. As with most facilities in Europe the shower was small and suited for only one person. He turned on the water, adjusted the temperature, and then stepped aside for her to enter.

As she was allowing the warm water to overrun her body when she suddenly felt his hands on her back and they were big, strong, and slippery with soap. Her instincts were to tell him he had no permission to touch his Mistress but she controlled that part of her. Tonight she was his lover. She tuned and said "close your eyes, Darcy, and wash me and feel my body". He softly stoked and washed every inch of her body. She was aware that he lingered much longer on her lower back and ass. She knew that Darcy loved a woman's ass, the flower of the lower region and he now concentrated on exploring hers and knowing it and she knew he longed to open her flower with his hands, his tongue and his cock. She would do this for him but not yet. Her feelings were overwhelming her.

Suddenly she needed to urinate. Again, she became excited. She knew his deep desires regarding the nectar of the woman he longed to serve. To feel it, wear it, be a part of it, and the intimate bonding of consuming her precious nectar was something she knew Darcy needed as much as he needed anything. For him and to her, it was the ultimate intimacy between lovers and between Mistress and her slave. She slowly began to release and as she did there was a frantic gasp as Darcy reached to feel the flow run across his hand. He was so overwhelmed that he slowly sank to his knees and took a moment to compose himself in order to stand and continuing bathing Isabella. Darcy's mind was racing. Could there really be a woman that understood his needs, respected them, and received her own pleasure and power from them. It was too much. Fear ran through him that she would not want him.

The shower finished, he ever so delicately and dabbed her dry as if she were made of fine porcelain and would break. He pressed the towel around her head to soak up the water. He stepped to the sink, from his own toiletry bag produced a comb, and proceeded to comb her short, platinum hair for her into the very style that she wore as if he had created it. Still, he did not speak. Isabella was not sure if he was still so very nervous or just overcome by the whole situation. He could also be worried about performing for her - what she might ask - worried that his manhood would not please her or was less than good enough since some fool had once told him such stupid things. Isabella knew more than anyone did how words could hurt and affect your entire life.

She led him back to the bed. Isabella set down first and pulled him on to the bed. The tension between them was now at a total pitch of desire, fear, nervousness, and mad crazy feelings of love. This could not be - but love was in the room in almost a tangible nature. She directed him to lie again and Isabella positioned herself with his arm around her and her head on his shoulder. She folded one leg across his legs and gently rubbed his chest. Without even thinking, her hand floated to his cock. He had shaved for her - funny, she had not noticed before but the skin so soft and delicate surrounding this magnificent member throbbing and pulsing.

As she touched the base of his cock and his balls it moved, trembled, and leaked more of the glistening pre-cum. She could not help but touch the head of his cock and massage the slippery pre-cum into the beautiful head. As she did, he moaned and started to flex his hips. Isabella told Darcy is her softest voice: "I am tonight your woman. I am in love with you and you mean all things to me. I lie here next to you and want nothing more than to give you my love, my desire, my body and have you take me, use me in whatever way will make Darcy, the man, happy and filled with love and satisfaction. I want you to make love to me, Darcy. I want you to know when morning comes just how much I want you and desire you. And, no matter what the future brings, you will remember this night and how much you were wanted and desired by me, Isabella."

Her words struck a long dead chord in Darcy. He rolled on top of her and for a moment merely studied her eyes with such deepness that she felt as if their bodies were being melded into one entity. Slowly and lovingly, he began to kiss her breasts, her mouth, her neck and face, and then moved down to her stomach. He kissed every single part of her body except for her womanly mound and the flower of her ass. She knew he was savoring her essence, her trembling, moaning desire, and her inability to remain still. Isabella was at first surprised at her own passion but was soon so caught up in his kisses and caresses that she forgot she was there to be a Mistress. She forgot all the disappointing loves of the past and thought only of this man, this moment, and the throbbing desire of love that was making her lightheaded, drunk, swollen and aching for his touch.

When Darcy was ready, he slowly positioned his cock at the opening of her pussy. He felt her incredible wetness and very slowly lowered his cock into her and moaned as he felt the tightness of her muscles grip his cock like a drowning man might grab for a rope. She arched up to meet him and gripped with all her might - wanting to feel every inch of him, every vein, every pulse. What started slowly and gently became a tangled mélange of moans and inaudible words, as the thrust grew harder and deeper. Isabella wrapped around Darcy and dug her nails into his back and ass as he pounded her harder and faster. Like a flash of lightening, he flipped her over and pulled her ass up so she was exposed to him. Then she felt his face, his tongue buried in her ass.

Flicking his tongue at the flower, which she opened wider and wider to be ready to receive him completely and effortlessly. The wetness of his mouth and tongue sucking and fucking her flower was almost more than she could stand. She reached down to touch herself, wanting desperately to have release but he grabbed her hand and in one strong move was thrusting his cock into her ass. She was open and ready and there was no slowness or gentleness but pure raw lust. Passion that had overtaken all other senses and thoughts of Isabella. Driving into her ass harder and harder and slapping her ass after each thrust, Darcy then drove his cock as deep as he could and moved about in small circles while he reached around and rubbed Isabella's now swollen little female cock. She was a mad woman, crazy with desire like she had never known.

He suddenly stopped and withdrew from her ass and she was again on her back. His face now buried deep into her pussy, licking, sucking, and running his tongue across her swollen labia. He knew from previous conversations that Isabella liked to have her clit blown on and vibrated. He began to blow and she felt his hand entering his ass. She could hardly hold still to find the release needed so badly - then suddenly Isabella was yelling to Darcy not to stop that she was cumming, oh gawd she was going to cum like it was the first time in her life. Darcy did not stop, he was like a machine and then it was there - the gush, the squirting and he moaned with delight at the essence of her orgasm flowing all over his face and chest. He threw back her legs, entered her ass once again, and began to pound her frantically and desperately with all of his strength.

He reached down and took one of Isabella's hands and laid it on her pussy, she began to rub herself and felt another orgasm mounting. They were now pounding at each other in such rhythm and desire like neither had ever felt before. Again, Isabella screamed a muffled scream of another orgasm and Darcy looked up to the ceiling, holding fast to Isabella's legs and let out a long painful moan with several very fast and deep strokes. They both came this time in one union filled gift of love and desire. It was the kind of gift that only lovers of the most intimate nature can give to each other.

Isabella lay trembling wondering how she managed to have such two incredible orgasms. Darcy moved about the room with hardly a sound. He produced a hot wash cloth to clean Isabella, propped up pillows, and helped her to get under the covers. He stoked her still wet hair, kissed her softly, and merely said "I love you, Isabella, with all my being". Shortly, the food he had previously placed in the room was on a tray and he quietly and sweetly giving her bites of food and drink. Darcy stoked her cheeks and just silently looking at her as if she was some special gift from another world. Oddly enough, Isabella herself felt as if she had floated into another world.

The world of this man - this incredible man and his desire. She knew he understood her love and desire for him. She understood that she was deeply in love. Months to getting to know each other through letters and phone had taught them many things but nothing had prepared her for the way she felt. It was totally out of her control. A feeling that Isabella was not accustomed too having. But this was the moment; soon she would have to learn if he could separate the man and the woman from the devoted slave, the slave she would own. A slave who would have no other thought than the fact that he belonged to her. But, morning, yes, there would be time in the morning to talk about the Mistress and the slave. This evening she was just his woman and wanted him to feel every bit the man he deserved to feel from her love and desire. She again gave to him with all her heart and body.

Morning found the pair still awake and still in the wonderment of a new found love and passion. Darcy had been so many years without loving a woman that finding all this love just for him inside the arms and body of Isabella was almost more than his mind could control or contain. He was filled with amazement that one woman could so desire just him. Many women did in fact desire Darcy but he never saw them as real or honest. There was always a cloud in his mind from the one who hurt him so badly and destroyed the man inside. Isabella had touched the man deep within and no matter how Darcy tried to fight it, to resist letting his mind follow his body –he knew that in every way he belonged to Isabella and that she belonged to him. Nothing could ever make him doubt her love because it was given so freely and openly. She was like a trembling first love, a woman, a whore, a vixen in his arms but the love she offered was a simple, honest, and open gift. No questions, no conditions, just pure unencumbered love.

Darcy was almost frightened. He had been so long not believing anymore in love that here it was lying next to him and yet – he also knew that lying there was his new Mistress, the one who would own him and train him. Would he have to choose? Could he have them both? Could she be both? Can a woman be your taskmaster and own you and turn around and be your lover and your whore? If she was capable then she must be even more incredible than he had imagined. Yet, he somehow knew she was capable. The fear he felt was for him. Was he capable? He needed a Mistress so much that his whole body ached. He yearned for the control of this woman, to feel her whips and her bindings, her harsh tones and punishment. But something was also stirring in him he thought long ago dead – love. Real love for a partner, a friend, a woman, his woman, but also the women for whom he would be a willing slave. It was too much.

Time soon arrived to leave for Darcy's flat and put behind the hours of equality and passionate love-making. Isabella was nervous for the first time in many years. This man had touched her heart. She always liked to keep things separate but this was going to be hard. She was in love with this man and she knew it but she also knew that his needs far surpassed those of mere love. He needed her strength, her harshness, and her ability to be cruel, her nurturing and car. She must concentrate and focus all her thoughts if she was going to be the Mistress that she was proud to be and be the Mistress that he needed.

She decided not to mention anything until they reached his flat. Let the train ride home be pleasant and light like those of a tourist. Once at the flat, she would make the transition. She was going to need strength for this one. She was already too much in love.

Tension and anticipation were building as they mounted the steps to the Darcy's flat. Neither had any idea of what was in the mind of the other. Normally it would be "will she like my home" or "I wonder how he lives" but instead his mind was full of thoughts about when she was going to mention the main reason that they are now together and she was wondering how he was going to handle the transition. When should she start? Small talk first? Another discussion of needs and her expectations but they had done that for months? Isabella decided that as soon as the door was closed it was the moment to transition and begin the training. After all, that is why he contacted her in the first place. Darcy did not write to her to find a lover but to find the Mistress he needed and he saw in her the spirit and tenacity that he thought he would need. She stood and looked around the neat and orderly little flat.