Mystery Dom

I never really learned how to talk to people. I was friendly enough, I thought, and they seemed friendly with me. I could hold my end of a pleasant conversation. But how do you go beyond that?

So at 25 I'd had one previous boyfriend. I still don't really know how it started, but it lasted a few months and then we split it off with no hard feelings when we both realized there were no other feelings, either. We agreed to stay friends, and kept in touch on and off for about half a year, but then our conversations slowly died off. That was almost a year ago.

So now I lived in a house by myself in a small town, where I knew all my neighbors but didn't really know any of them. Which was mostly fine. I still got invited to barbecues and street parties. Maybe part of why I never learned to talk to people was that I never really felt the need. I had friends through some online communities - much easier - and that was enough for me. Mostly.

I do have a sex drive. I'm not sure it's a very strong one, but it's there, and sometimes I wished I had someone to satisfy it. I'd sometimes wished that even when I'd been with Harold, and I guess that was part of the problem. He didn't satisfy my itch. I still don't know if he would have done, if I'd spoken to him about it. How do you have that conversation?

This was one of those times, and it was a lazy Saturday with nothing else to do, so I was indulging myself. I had a collection of toys that I'd slowly accumulated over the years, getting delivered in discrete cardboard boxes that I hoped no one ever saw. I picked some of them out, and I laid them on my bed.

Then I looked at the window and jumped in surprise. Stupid! I'd left my blinds open. Burning red I hurried to close them, then peeked through to check if anyone might have seen. The houses across the street all had three stories, and there were three of them where I thought someone looking at my window might have seen my bed. Those windows were all dark - could someone have been standing in them?

I comforted myself that it had only been a few minutes, there was no reason for anyone to be looking into my window, and anyway I wasn't doing anything wrong. Part of me wanted to stop, but another part of me reasoned that then if someone had been looking, they'd still assume I'd done what I'd been planning to anyway, so the damage was done.

And maybe another part of me hoped someone had been looking? Someone who wouldn't judge me. Maybe someone who could help.

Anyway, while I was deciding how I felt, I was still getting undressed. I tend to do that, act on autopilot while my brain is elsewhere. And once I was naked, I gave my trimmed pussy a rub like I normally did, and that sort of distracted me from worrying about whether I'd been seen.

So then I started to get dressed again. I had a few different outfits I normally wore for these sessions. This one was a set of black lacy lingerie - stockings, garter belt, panties, bra, and high heels. I put them on, running my hands over each item in turn, even this small act of eroticism sending a thrill through me. Then I put on a collar, a wide black leather one with a D-ring at the back of my neck. I looked at myself in the mirror - the word "slut" came to mind, which made heat rise in my face again, but also in my pussy. I'd seen videos of people dressed like me, getting tied up, thrown around, spanked, fucked... all the sorts of things that I wanted for myself, but had never found anyone to do for me. To me.

I'd put a leather paddle on the bed. I got on all fours facing away from the mirror, then turned my neck to watch as I gave myself ten spanks on one ass cheek. I'm never able to hit myself as hard as I think I'd like, but by the end there was a faint red glow. I did the same to the other cheek, imagining with every blow that it was someone else delivering them, spanking me mercilessly while he fucked me, pulling on my hair to help him thrust deep into my cunt.

After my ass, I turned to sit facing the mirror, with my legs spread wide. I pulled my panties to the side and delivered a blow to my clit. This hurt a lot more, and I yelped with pain before shamefully whispering "one - thank you Sir," wishing I had a Sir to thank. By the time I reached ten my pussy was definitely red, and I could see a faint glisten of wetness from my arousal.

Having warmed up, I continued to prepare myself. I attached a set of restraints to the back of my collar, dangling loose for now. I put a black rubber ball gag in my mouth and fastened it behind my head. I put a blindfold on my forehead but didn't pull it down, and noise cancelling headphones over that. A magic wand in a harness nestled snugly over my clit, not yet turned on or even attached to a power source. I climbed on to the bed and plugged it in to a box in front of me. A wire coming from my restraints plugged into it as well.

Lying face down, I brought my legs up behind me and fastened my ankles to my collar, pulling my face up to look forwards. I was already drooling on to my bedsheets, but I was used to changing them after a session. I pressed a button on the box, then slipped the blindfold down over my eyes. I reached behind my back and fumbled around until I'd fastened my wrists.

I tugged on my restraints, feeling that I was trapped. The box was set to release me after a random amount of time between 90 and 150 minutes, and until then - I felt the wand against my clit start to buzz gently - there was no escape.

Not literally no escape. The box had a button I could press with my nose, if necessary. But I hadn't used it yet, and I enjoyed pretending it wasn't there.

The buzzing against my clit increased in intensity, and I moaned through my gag. I'd set it up to behave randomly. Sometimes it would tease me gently for a long time before giving me a few satisfying orgasms just before I was unlocked. Sometimes it would run on full power for almost the entire time, forcing me to cum over and over. Once it had never quite let me get there, but it had brought me tantalizingly close multiple times before the vibrations cut out entirely, leaving me to try to grind against the head of the wand with no success. After I'd been freed I started frantically fucking myself with my fingers, but when I brought myself to the edge something in me made me stop. I'd pulled out, placed my hand on my thighs, and taken several deep breaths before getting dressed. I went to bed frustrated that night and tried my luck again the next day. I was very pleased I'd waited.

The device had no way of knowing how close I was, so I don't know how it managed to edge me so effectively. I guess I just got lucky that the way it had been calibrated matched my particular level of sensitivity so well.

Today, the wand was building up slowly. I squirmed as it went from a pleasant distraction - or what would have been a pleasant distraction, if there'd been anything else to be distracted from - to a level that I couldn't possibly have ignored if I'd tried. It built me up, and I struggled against my bonds, and just when I thought it was going to let me cum the level dropped way back down and I struggled harder, whining through my gag. I think I might even have mumbled a "please Sir".

Then it built me up again, and this time as I thought I was about to cum it cut out entirely. I moaned in frustration and tried to grind myself to the finish, but just like last time I couldn't make it work. That didn't stop me from trying, but I just exhausted myself.

And the vibes didn't come back. At first I thought I was just being teased, but after a while of trying to cum - unsuccessfully - I started to get a bit worried. I took a few deep breaths, as far as I could through my gag, and tried to orient myself; and having oriented myself realized I wasn't really horny any more and I was a bit close to panicking. And that wouldn't be fun, so I wriggled an inch or so forwards until I found the box with my nose. I fumbled around a bit and pushed forwards, and felt the "cancel" button press.

Nothing happened.

So I pressed it again, and I felt around the rest of the face in case there were other buttons, which there weren't. So I kept pressing that one until the box disappeared from in front of me and I guessed it had fallen on the floor, and I was still trapped and the wand still wasn't doing anything. That's when I started trying to scream through my gag, make as much noise as I could so that someone would find me, I didn't want to think about what would happen then but I definitely didn't want to think about what would happen if no one found me. So I screamed and thrashed, and I told myself very forcefully that I wasn't panicking, just doing the obviously sensible thing that happened to look a lot like panicking.

I don't know how long I was doing that for, but the noises I was making changed a bit when the headphones I was wearing were pulled off. I went from a sort of "mmmm-mmmm-mmmm-mmmm" to a sort of "mmmh?!" And then I felt someone cupping my face in two hands and I heard him say, "hey. Hey. It's alright. You're safe."

I started struggling a bit harder then, because someone knew my secret and I wanted - I don't know what I wanted, but apparently it involved thrashing helplessly for a bit. But he kept holding my face, and he told me "calm down" in a voice that - well, it was deep, and it was calm itself, it felt safe, and I calmed down. A bit. I was still definitely scared, but I stopped thrashing.

"Well done," the voice said. "Look, I guess this is embarrassing for you. You probably don't want anyone knowing what you get up to. But I do know, and I'm not judging you. It's fine."

I think I made a kind of small pathetic "mm-hm?" noise in my throat.

"So I promise I'll free you soon. But first I think we should talk. I'm going to take your gag out now, okay?" I felt the hands reach behind my head and unfasten the gag, with much less fumbling than it took me. They pulled the large ball out of my mouth and I still couldn't really speak, not at first, because my jaw was stiff. So all I said was "...ah" like I was at the dentist.

"So, I guess you want to know who I am," said the mystery voice, which had in fact been the question I wanted to ask. "But I'm thinking, maybe you actually don't. I know about you, now, and I can't change that. But what I can offer is that you don't need to know that I know. I won't treat you any differently, and you won't need to treat me differently because you won't know who I am. So it's up to you. I can take off your blindfold and free you, or I can free you and walk away."

"...I." Apparently I still couldn't speak. My mind was racing. Would it be better to feel super embarrassed every time I was around a specific person? Or to feel mildly embarrassed every time I was around, well, anyone, just in case? Part of me thought it was silly to keep myself in the dark,

whatever's true is already so

, and

I can handle the truth because I am already enduring it

- but another part pointed out that I'm pretty good at self-deception, actually, and this did seem like the kind of thing that would help me pretend everything was normal.

And anyway - apparently I was coming down from my definitely-not-panic and my libido was starting to kick in again - didn't I like the idea of being seen as a sexual being? Hadn't I sometimes looked at the men around the neighborhood, fantasizing that they were looking at me and fantasizing? That might be easier to imagine if I knew one of them had seen me - like this.

I know you can't hear a smile, but I swear I heard him smile. "You don't need to decide now. I'll leave my number. If you want to know who I am, just ask. Okay?" He stroked my cheek. "But here's another suggestion. I'm not going to do this unless you actively say yes, and we can stop any time. But if you want, I could help you out. No strings, no complications. Would you like that?"

Help me out.

I can be naive, but it's not that I had no idea what he meant, I just had too many ideas. Possibilities flashed through my mind, most of them things I'd fantasized about. In my fantasies, I'd often had less say in the matter than I seemed to now. But did I want to live them out?

I guess he took my hesitation as a no, because he said, "that's okay. I'll just write my number and then I'll free you." He took his hand off my face and I realized I really didn't want him to leave yet so I blurted out "wait". I took a few deep breaths while I tried to figure out how to ask what he meant but that clearly wasn't working so I just said "yes," my heart pounding.

I swear I heard that smile again. "Good girl," he said, and I reacted by making a pathetic little whining noise in my throat while my pussy twitched. I felt him loop something over my wrist and then place a pen in my hand. "I'm going to gag you again so you don't make too much noise. This is your safeword, you can click it and I'll stop. It's on a loop so you don't drop it." Right, yes. Safewords. At least one of us was being sensible.

He placed the gag bag into my mouth, me having said all of three words. And then he put my headphones over my ears again. I hadn't noticed his quiet breathing before, but I noticed its absence. I could still hear my own breathing, that I was struggling to control, and my heartbeat. But I lost all sense of his presence.

After a few moments the wand on my clit started to vibrate gently again. I moaned softly. During the interruption I'd been all over the place, but this grounded me, bringing my attention all back to one place. I moaned softly as heat began to rise, and I tugged gently against my bonds, trying to grind myself against the head to feel more pressure.

Slowly the vibrations increased in intensity, and so did my struggles. Before long my moans had turned from pleasure to pleasure-plus-desperation, wanting to cum but with the wand still too low to get me there. And soon after that I was practically screaming "yes - yes" through my gag as I knew I'd be tipping over the edge soon. I can be pretty vocal, that's why I bought the gag in the first place.

And I suppose that's how my mystery man, who I'd completely forgotten about, knew to turn the wand off at that point. And right at the same time, I felt my paddle spank my ass, I heard the crack even through my headphones, and my "yes" became an "uaargh" of frustration and - well, honestly more surprise than pain. It didn't really hurt any more than I was able to give myself. Then a second blow came, slightly harder, and I yelped at that too. After the third I was trying to cover my ass with my hands, I had enough range of motion to sort of do that. But a strong grip caught my wrist, holding my hands and my ankles up away from my ass, and the beating continued. I couldn't even turn my body to try to flinch away. Each blow came as soon as my scream from the previous died down, and by the fifteenth I was breathing heavily and I could feel tears in my eyes under my blindfold. My ass was burning. But I also felt like I could cum from the slightest touch.

The grip on my wrist was released and my hands fell down, giving me a mild slap on the ass. Even that was enough to make me gasp slightly.

Apparently I needed a bit more than a touch, because the wand turned back on and I didn't orgasm immediately, but even though I could tell it was on low power it felt almost as intense as it ever had. It didn't hide the stinging I still felt, but it did distract me from it, for about two seconds. Then I received a blow on my other ass cheek which made me yelp again, and then the vibrations distracted me from that too.

I felt the firm leather of the paddle trace across my body, starting on my ass cheek and sliding down, until it touched my bare skin at the edge of my panties. It felt cold as it continued its journey down, towards the top of my stockings. But just before it reached them it lifted and - thwap! - another strike to my ass. I might have tried again to cover up with my hands, but before I could the hand gripped my wrist once more and I was trapped. Now the paddle traveled in the other direction, up along my waist, almost reaching my bra strap before I received two more spanks in quick succession. This continued, the paddle stroking all over this side of my body - my ass, arm, thigh, calf, hip - and spanking me. Or sometimes not, just to keep me guessing. I lost count of how many blows I received this way, but by the end my right cheek was burning more than my left. This time my wrist was lowered before it was released, so that my hand landed gently on my ass but didn't hit it.

I was gripping the pen in my hand tightly, but I never considered clicking it. I'm not sure I even remembered that was an option.

And the whole time the wand buzzed against my clit, promising a release that it wasn't going to provide, and when the spankings stopped it just kept going. Maddened with lust, I was moaning "please, please" through the gag, though I have no idea if anyone could have made out the words.

The next thing I felt was a length of rope being wrapped twice around my wrists and tugged in various directions, presumably a knot being tied. Then another, around my ankles. Strong hands gripped my knee and my shoulder, lifting slightly, pushing and pulling, rotating and moving me about on the bed. The motions made the wand press harder at times, and me moan more intensely. Then with one hand on my wrist and another under my stomach, I was tipped onto my side, lowered gently rather than being allowed to fall.

I'd been exposed before, but this felt different. My ass in panties, half covered by my arms, was one thing. Now this stranger could see my chest, thrust forward by the position of my arms, my lacy bra pushing my tits up and showing off my cleavage. My stomach, not quite as trim since I'd let my exercise routine slip. My crotch was framed by my garter belt, and the only reason my wet panties weren't exposing just how turned on I was, was that there was a wand still strapped to my clit.

Of course the wand had stayed perfectly in position, continuing to torment me, but slightly less intensely now that it didn't have my weight pressing it into me.

My face was probably already red from exertion, but if not I'm sure it turned red from embarrassment. My moans got quieter and I started deliberately trying to breath deeply to calm myself. Not so easy with a large black rubber ball in your mouth, which was also much more visible than it would have been when we spoke earlier.

I felt tugs on my wrists and ankles, pulling them back away from my body. I pulled on them a bit and felt no give, if I wanted to roll back onto my front I would have to shuffle backwards.

But I found that I didn't want to roll back onto my front, because there were hands touching me. Fingertips trailing down my waist, across my pelvis to meet above my crotch, and then back up past my navel to just below my sternum, just below my bra - and then tracing a second round, this time with fingernails, gently scratching my skin. A third round, scratching slightly harder, and then the hands were gripping my breasts through my bra, squeezing and groping them. I whined and tried to shove my chest forwards. After a few moments he pulled my bra down, the cups pushing my tits further inwards and upwards.

This was the second man ever to see my naked breasts, and I didn't know anything about him - not even his name or what he looked like. But that didn't stop me from trying to eagerly press myself into his hands as he kept groping, his thumbs sliding across my nipples. I guess he spat on me because I felt two wet spots appear, and then his thumbs were moving more easily. My nipples were beginning to stand erect, and the sliding became more of a gentle flicking, and then my left tit was engulfed in warm wetness as he replaced his hand with his mouth and started sucking.