I had been talking to mistress Liz for over a year now. Every few months I'd send her a Snapchat when I was horny and ask if I could come over tonight to which she would usually respond that she was busy or it was too late of notice. The few times she would respond I would chicken out and would dive into a library of excuses of my own. I liked her, not because she was beautiful, but because she was the only mistress twisted enough to listen to my dark fantasies and actually occasionally add to them and make me fear for my own safety. I was used to being ignored by other online mistresses or to find out they were fake or asking for money. Liz was not. She genuinely just liked crushing men's spirits and I loved it.
I'm not unattractive and have been with a fair share of women but never a very dominate one. The one real-time girl that I ever felt comfortable enough to share some of my fantasies with, Mikayla, such as being pegged or tied up, ended up leaving me for a guy in New York City. That's ok, I wasn't even sure if I was ready. I had always dreamed of the day that a woman would tie me up and have her way with me but the idea of it actually happening terrified me, especially with Liz. See there are two types of girls that I share my fantasies with. The first ones are the Mikaylas. These are the girls that I match with on local dating sites and feel like I might actually have a shot with as a long term relationship so I tell them I like being submissive sometimes, a lie to hopefully not scare them off. In honesty I'm a complete sub, always have been. I want nothing more than to be bound by women and worship the ground they walk on. To be tortured with no safe words. I don't know why I get that way, one little tap on my balls and I'm crying in pain but I can't stop watching cbt videos online fantasizing about what it would be like to be helplessly tortured with no way out.
That brings me to the second type of woman. These are the Liz's. The women I share my most f*cked up fantasies with because I feel secure in the fact that we will never actually end up meeting. These things are usually things that deep down I know I don't act loyally want but when my mind wonders in this direction, I can't help but tell someone that wants to do it with me as well. Helping me live the fantasy vicariously through our text.
This is until I got a message from Liz one day at just the wrong time.
I was home alone doing my usual Sunday morning wank, laying on my couch while looking at images of women holding chastity cages with captions such as "put this on and I'll have you on your knees begging to suck my dick in a week".
The text was just three lines long, it contained my full name, my street address, and a note that said "see you in 30 minutes. It's going to be a long night slave. 💋"