As I was walking up to her hotel door my mind was replaying our entire relationship. Well maybe relationship is the wrong word, I was actually meeting her in person for the first time in just a few minutes. Let me go back to the beginning.
I am a man with some submissive tendencies. Basically, the thought of being restrained and helpless while being teased or forced to cum has been haunting me for years. The Internet has been my friend, for in it I have found stories and pictures and videos of ever more extreme situations. These have been the fuel for my imagination leading me into the world I'm about to enter.
I have played with self-bondage, but being a man has hindered me. Tying myself up definitely arouses me, but then with no stimulation I'm quickly bored. Leaving one hand free allows me to stimulate myself, but doesn't truly leave me feeling helpless or controlled. Either way I don't really experience the fear of being helpless at someone's mercy. This is a common theme that races through my favorite stories.
Having gone as far as I could go on my own I decided that I needed to find a Mistress to go to the next level. Not knowing where to find one, I turned to the Internet yet again. That is where I met her.
I'm not even sure I remember how I found her site, but when I found it I inhaled every word. I lingered over every page, reading it multiple times. I studied every image until my imagination was using her likeness to restrain and tease me. She was actually a fetish model, so I searched the Internet to find even more images. I even found a few videos. Then about a month ago I took the plunge and filled out her application.
We traded a few emails back and forth until we setup today's meeting. I had almost cancelled a few times, and once had even written a polite email explaining why I was backing out. I deleted that email unsent, and now I was nervously knocking on her door.
She opened the door and invited me in, closing and locking it behind me. She was wearing a black skintight lycra top that accented and highlighted every delicious curve. On top of this she had a black silky corset that both highlighted and exaggerated her figure. It disappeared into a black skirt, with black stockings sensuously covering her legs down to her black heels. Her black satin gloves went up to within an inch of the short sleeves on her top. In short she looked every bit the fetish model that she was, and seeing her in person took my breath away.
She greeted me with a big hug, wrapping me up in all the satiny smooth textures she was wearing. Her strong, athletic body left no doubt as to who was in charge as she pulled me into her grasp. It ended all too soon for me, but that only reinforced the thought that she was the one in charge.
She was warm and friendly as we sat down at a small table to chat. She really put me at ease, making me want to open up to her as we talked. She referred to our emails on an iPad, and she took some notes as well. After a few minutes she was ready to begin.
"I thought we would do some role play today. Are you ready?"
"I guess. What setting are we using?"
"Stand up and just go with it. You'll figure it out." she said as she stood and tied a small white lace apron on top of her skirt. Adding a cute little white tiara turned her into a classic fetish maid. She turned away from me and walked over to the dresser to pick up a feather duster. She bent at the waist with her legs straight to reach down and dust the bottom edge of the stand. I had to adjust my pants before I could get to my feet.
She stood up, turned towards me, and gasped as she said "Wer bist du! Wie bist du hier reingekommen?"
I was a little shocked, but I tried to play along. "Umm... I don't know... I don't understand."
She set down her duster and started speaking English in a heavy German accent, pretending to struggle with the language. "English then. Why you are here?"
"I was invited."
"You lie. No guests today. Tell truth now or we make tell truth." she said as she removed her apron and skirt. Her top turned out to be a bodysuit, and her stockings were actually pantyhose that went all the way up under the lycra.