Meeting Pearl

This is a continuation of Meeting Pearl. There is sex (sort of) at the end of the chapter, but it is not a stroking type of story. It is developing the characters. If people like it, I will continue. So here it goes, I hope that you enjoy.

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Waking up, I am a bit sore and realize that I am laying on something hard, I am definitely not sleeping in my bed! Opening my eyes, I stare up and see a ceiling fan spinning over my head, which is alarming seeing as how I do not have a ceiling fan in my tiny apartment. Shaking my head and starting to sit up I feel tug on my neck. Glancing down I see a rope tied to the foot of a bed and seems to be connected to me, I reach up and sure enough there is a rope tied to a leather strap on my neck. I shake my head a bit as I start to remember the events of last night and where I am; I am on the floor of his hotel room.

I do not even recall his name, I know he told me when we first started talking. My mind slowly clears and I recall he told me his name was Matthew, not Matt but Mathew. But he told me to call him Sir, and for some reason that does not bother me. I mean calling a gentleman sir is respectful, but there is something different about how he wants me to call him Sir.

My fingers reach around the leather wrapped snuggly around my neck, Sirs belt, well my collar he said. I start to panic, this is not a collar, but his belt. I am sure I can untie this knot. What right does he have to do this to me, to treat me this way? I start to work at the knot with my fingers, but I stop realizing it that Sir would be disappointed. I do not want him disappointed in me. I should at least keep it on until he wakes and talk to him, ask him to let me go and that I need to go home.

I move towards the bed so that I can sit up fully. Once I am sitting up I can make out the outline of his body under the sheets. He is not using a blanket as it is warm, and I can make out his body beneath the sheet. He has a strong fit body, not muscular, but firm. His age is hard to make out, but definitely in his 40s I would guess, so a good decade older than myself. There is nothing visibly special about him, I have slept with men with larger cocks as well as smaller cocks, and men much more fit and more attractive then Sir. But there is something about him, his confidence or something that makes him different. He has an inner strength perhaps, it seems to me that is notable even in the way he sleeps.

I would estimate him to be approximately 6-foot-tall and 180 pounds, he has short brown/gray hair and a trim goatee. I recall his eyes, they were a greenish/golden/brown color, it was hard to tell, but they were amazing, and they seemed to see everything. They seemed to see right through me, to see things about me that I did not even realize.

All of a sudden I am aware that I have to pee, but the rope will not allow me to move anywhere near the bathroom. I ponder this and decide I do not have to pee badly enough that I want to wake him and I do not want to untie myself at the moment. I will wait for a little while.

As I stare at his sleeping form, my mind flashes back to last night and what I allowed a stranger to do to me or made me do. But made is not really true is it, he did not force me to do anything. He simply did things, told me to do things and I obeyed. But there was something about the way he told me and the way he looked at me.

I am used to men looking at me, undressing me with their eyes, looking at me like a figure to. I am used to men fetching me drinks, doing what they can to fuck me. I am not stupid, I know I am attractive and that most men I meet are just focused on fucking me and putting a notch on their bed post.

But he didn't do that. He talked to me, his eyes never wandered down my body while we talked. He treated me like a person, he respected what I had to say. Somehow, he made me feel less shy and more secure. I do not know why or how he did that with just talking to me, but that is what I felt.

Although I suppose he did not need to undress me with his eyes, a couple hours after meeting me he just told me to undress for him and I complied without much hesitation. Although in my defense he had just given me the most intense orgasm I have had in ages, possibly the most intense orgasm of my life. The amazing thing is that he only used his fingers to give me that orgasm. On top of that it was outdoors in a place where someone could have walked by and seen me. After that orgasm, he made me strip to my panties, kneel before him and suck his cock, he did not even let me use my hands.

I have never in my life tried so hard to please a man as I did when I sucked his cock. I so badly wanted him to fuck me right there, even in the open. I did not care who saw, I just wanted his cock in me. But he did not offer, so I sucked his cock, and I recall thinking that if he liked it he may fuck me or he may give me another orgasm like the first one.

After his orgasm, I did swallow most of it, but some dribbled down my face he made me get dressed but did not allow me to put my bra back on. I could feel the cum drying on my face and thought of wiping it off with my blouse as I put it on, but I realized I did not think he would like that and did not.

Then he told me to take off my panties and I did not even question it as I reached down and slid them off. He held my wet panties in his hand and told me to open my mouth; I knew he was going to shove my panties in my mouth, but I just did as I was told and immediately opened my mouth and sure enough he shoved my panties in my mouth.

I have never tasted myself before, well a bit after a guy would fuck me I had occasionally sucked their cocks. But not like this, my mouth was flooded with my flavor. I am not sure if I like the flavor, but I like that he had that slight smile as I closed my mouth around them, like he was proud of me.

He then told me to follow him 'home', to his hotel; He did not even look back at me but I could tell he knew I followed him. During the walk home, my breasts bounced as I walked, my nipples rubbed against the fabric of my blouse and were stiff, poking through the thin material. It had to be so apparent to everyone that saw me that I was not wearing a bra, and to top it off, I had Sirs belt around my neck, dangling between my breasts.

I cannot imagine, well I guess I can imagine what people thought of me. But I did not care what others thought of me, I just thought about making him happy and proud. As we walked, I wondered if he had drugged me as I was so turned on. My pussy was so wet, I could feel pussy juices running down my leg. I have not been this turned on many times, and never while not having sex.

As we walked I wondered if he had drugged me, why I was doing this. I had never even had sex on the first date. But we had not even dated, we talked for a couple of hours is all. But I do not think he could have drugged me, I do not know how he could have. He was a stranger there and I knew many of the people. I asked around before he started talking to me and no one except the host even knew who he was. And he sent me to get drinks, and I never let go of mine; I was so nervous that I held it my hands, so I would not fidget as we talked.

When we got to his room, he made me stand in the center of the large living area and told me to strip. I promptly complied, and he took my clothes away and put them someplace. As I remember this I glance around the room trying to see where my clothes may be but do not see them and am not able to search for them right now.

He then instructed me to stand with my head held high, my eyes forward, my legs spread slightly, and my hands clasped behind my back. He walked around me and adjusted my head some, pulled my shoulders back so my tits stuck out further. Then he grabbed my wrists firmly twisting my hands so that I was grabbing the elbow of the opposite arm. Each time he touched me it caused little jolts of pleasure to run through my body. I wanted his hands to touch me all over, to caress my body. But he simply moved my arms up

I could sense him standing behind me, I was so anxious to find what he was going to do. Then I felt him remove the belt from my neck, oddly I recall how I missed that belt. After a few minutes I felt him working at my neck again and could feel the leather again, but this time I could feel him snug it up and secure it on my neck.

I saw him walk away with a length of the belt, he must have cut much of it off. A few minutes later I heard him walking back. He stood in front of me and I could see a small padlock in his hands, like on off luggage as he reached up and did something to his belt. He finally speaks to me "Pearl, this will suffice for a collar until you prove yourself."

A collar? Prove myself? What the hell did he mean by that? A collar like a pet? Of course, I have heard of Dominants and subservients, or Masters and slaves and I know that collars are a part of that. But I had never thought of myself as a sub or a slave or whatever before. Thinking about the evening I realized that he had "dominated" me much of the evening and that I loved it.

Does that mean that I am a sub? What is going to happen? I stood there in shock thinking, rationalizing everything that had occurred, I considered asking him to let me go home, but I never did. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I did not speak them, I did not speak at all.

His hands on my collar, or his belt, or whatever shook me from my thoughts. He secured a rope to my collar and the other end to the foot of his bed. The rope was short, only allowing me to move approximately 3 feet from his bed. I do not think I could climb into the bed, not that I have tried as he told me to sleep on the floor.

He then climbed into bed, looked at me and told me to sleep. He told me that if I was good that I may have a blanket or a pillow the following night. Than he simply lay down and I heard his breathing get slower as he fell asleep. I lay on the hard floor for hours as I could not fall asleep. I masturbated twice thinking about the events of the night before I finally fell asleep.

My mind comes back to the here and now and I reach up and grab the roped knotted to my collar, I mean his belt, I mean, I don't know what I mean!! As I fiddle with the knot in my hand, wondering what I should do I hear the bed move and turn and realize that he is watching me, how long has he been watching me? I feel a blush come over me as he looks at me, then he speaks "Kneel" one word that is it, but I find myself moving to my knees and kneeling looking towards him.

He gets up and walks to me, his hands touching me, adjusting my posture and where my legs were positioned, how my head was held. Those hands again, how I loved the feel of his hands on me, each touch sending small jolts of pleasure through my body once again. I found myself trying hard to comply, to please him. But why, why does his approval mean so much to me. I hardly know this man, what has he done to me?

Then he leaves, he just walks out of the room. I don't know what to do, but he did not tell me to move, that I could relax. Should I, he is not here, how long am I to sit like this, to kneel for him? He will come back won't, and if he does I want him to be pleased, so I continue to kneel. My bladder is so full, I hope he lets me get up and pee soon.

I hear his footstep returning, the soft pad of his bare feet on the floor. Not daring to turn my head from where he placed it, I can see him out of the corner of my eye as he sets down a couple of bowls. I hear him walk away then hear the shower turn on. Not knowing what else to do, I remain kneeling listening to him shower. And oh my god, the sound of the water splashing made me feel like my bladder was going to burst.

After the shower I hear him move around for a while before he walks in front of dressed. He kisses the top of my head and says "Very good". I can feel my face blush at his praise. "I must go to work, it will be a long day for me. I have left some food for you and some paper and pencils for you to draw and color. Oh, and your facilities are sitting by the bathroom door." He then unties the rope from the bed and ties it to another length of rope. My collar is still tied to his bed, but I have more mobility.

All I can think is 'he remembers I love to draw, he actually listened to me'. Then I hear the door to the hotel suite close. I look around the room, and walk around. There is food water in bowls near the door to the main room, a bowl of water not a glass or jug. On the floor near the window is a stack of paper and a large box of colored pencils. Then I glance at the door and I see a small pail with a roll of toilet paper and some hand sanitizer next to the pail.

Oh my god I have to pee so badly!! I try to walk to where the bathroom, but can just enter the doorway, I can see the toilet but I cannot reach it. I am so desperate that I just squat over the bucket and pee. There is nothing I can do with the bucket, so I slide it around the doorway so I do not have to look at it and flip the bathroom vent on so I do not smell it.

As I walk back into the bedroom, I glance at the clock on the nightstand are realize that I am late for work. But I do not even have clothes, well I don't know where they are. And he did not tell me that I could untie the rope. But he did not say I could not did he? I go to the telephone on Sirs nightstand and call in sick to work. I know that my boss will not be pleased, but he is unlikely to fire me for missing a single day of work.

I eat some food and drink, I find that it is much easier to put my head into the bowl and drink, although it is embarrassing. If I try to drink from it, more of it runs down my face and chest then I drink. But there is no one here to watch me, and I feel that Sir knew it would be harder and did it intentionally, so I drink from the bowl like a dog would. Besides he only left me the one bowl and I do not know how long he will work; I do not want to waste water.

I spend the day drawing and eating some. I find that I feel very content, even though I am naked in a collar and tied to a bed. I avoid the side of the room with the pee bucket unless I really need it. Late in the afternoon, I need to use the restroom, but not to pee. He could not really expect me to poop in the bucket, would he? I go to the bucket and look in and find I cannot do it.

I am able to lift the bed and slide the rope off the foot of the bed. Carrying the rope, I go the restroom and relieve myself. I wash my hands and return to the bedroom and go to return the rope, but find that I am unable to slide the tight knot over the foot of the bed. Worried I examine the intricate knot and slowly untie it. I then retie the knot just like it was.

I spend the evening relaxing and drawing some more. I actually take a nap on the hard floor; I do not know that I am allowed to go to the bed. I thought about that for a long time as I lay on the floor watching the fan blades, am I allowed on the bed? The thing that bothers me most I think is that I know I can lay on the bed, he likely would never know. He did not tell me I could lie on the bed and although I try to rationalize lying in the bed in my head, but never do.

I eventually drift off. I hear the door close and am instantly wake. I feel my heart race, I am excited that he has returned. I quickly try to think of what I should do, should I kneel? I start to panic, I don't know what I am to do? Why did I not just go home? What am I doing here? My mind racing.

I just lay there as he walks into the room, I feel myself calm down some as he enters the room. I do not know why, I would think that I would be more nervous. He does not say anything, he simply looks at me; I glance his way, not able to look him in the eyes. I don't know what to do and start to feel nervous as he stands there and stares at me. Finally I hear his voice, I love his voice, and he says that one word "Kneel."

I quickly roll over and get up and kneel, trying to remember everything he had showed me earlier. He walks up to me, "Good girl, you did well" he tells me as his strong hands guides me making some minor adjustments to my posture. There it is again, those magic hands! I love the feeling of his hands on my body and I find myself getting aroused, my pussy actually tingles. How the hell can I get excited from his touch, and not a sensual touch?

He looks down at me and nods then goes to the restroom. He returns and sits in a chair across the room. He looks so strong sitting there in his slacks and dress shirt. He just looks at me "Did you untie the rope today?" he asks me. I nod and look down staring at the floor. "Speak when I ask you a question. Did you until the rope today" he asks again,

"Yes" I respond meekly. He just stares at me. I find myself wanting to fidget, but work hard to hold myself still, I am certain it would not please him if I moved.

His eyes staring into my eyes "Yes what?" he asks

I quickly glance at his eyes then look down again as I respond "Yes Sir"

"Did I tell you to untie the rope?" he asks.

"No Sir."

"Did you think it would displease me to untie the rope?" he asks me in that firm steady voice.

"Yes Sir" I respond.

He gets up and walks to me and I feel his fingers make a fist in my hair, pulling my hair. "It is time for you to make a choice, you intentionally did something that you knew you should not, which means that I must punish you. Now I did not directly tell you not to untie the rope, but you admitted you felt you were not to. So your punishment will not be severe."

His fist in my hair clenches harder and he pulls my head back so my face is forced to look at his. My eyes meet his for a moment, I realize that today his eyes look to be a light green with almost gold flakes in areas. But I can only look him in the eye for a moment before my eyes drop to stare at his chin. His strong voice continues "You have a choice to make right now, do you wish to leave or accept your punishment?"

I start to panic and my breathing starts to get erratic as I think. Punishment, what does he mean punishment? Why should I be punished for going to the bathroom? Should I just go home? I do not even know him, but there is something about this whole thing that makes me feel content, makes me happy, makes me feel complete. But that is wrong, why am I letting him treat me like this?

Then I feel his hands cupping my face and my eyes focus and see his face right in front of mine, his eyes look soft and caring. His hand is not in my hair, I do not recall him taking it out of my hair. The feeling of both of his hand cupping my face do not send tingles up my spine like before. They make me feel protected, like his hands will protect me. Then he speaks, his voice soft and caring "Pearl, look at me." I look into his eyes and see him smile.

"Welcome back Pearl, you seem to have had a bit of a panic attack" he tells me as he stands. He lets go of my face and his hands reach down to mine and he pulls me to my feet and tells me to wait there a moment. He walks to the bathroom and comes back with a robe and drapes it over my shoulders and helps me as I guide my hands into the sleeves. He then walks around to the front, pulls the robe closed and ties the belt off. He then unties the rope from my collar.

He leads me to the living room and guides me sit on the couch and he turns the television on and hands me the remote. He then walks to the rooms phone as I set there staring at the screen. He comes back and looks at me and looks at the screen "Does the weather interest you Pearl?" he asks me. My eyes focus on the television and I realize that it is on the weather channel. "Find something you would like to watch Peal, I have some work calls to make then we can talk." I watch him walk across the room to a small table with some piles of paper and a laptop computer.