She wasn't expecting this group session to be any different than sessions of the past when a knock was heard at the door, her boyfriend answered and the computer guy entered. He made his way to the computer and begun to sort out the technical difficulties her boyfriend had been experiencing. Little did she know that the computer guy was also planning to join in the group fun later in the afternoon. She wasn't particularly impressed with the guy, but any help was appreciated and if her boyfriend was happy that was a good thing. The computer problems were soon solved and the guy made himself comfortable as they waited for others to arrive. The first group session went well, everyone left satisfied. But then shortly after the computer guy returned and she thought 'doesn't this guy have a home?' no one had explained to her that he had been invited to both sessions by her boyfriend- which was a move he may regret later.
The second group session was a lot of fun, and from then on in, future sessions always seem to include the computer guy, who for all his arrogance turned out to be one of the best fist fuckers she had ever experienced. But it wasn't just his fist and it wasn't just the sex she found herself being drawn to; She didn't know why, but she knew she was attracted, indeed drawn to this guy. Who at first she had next to no time for but within a few months, at a very memorable fist fuck session, she realized she just couldn't get enough and once again it was not just the sex, although the fist fucking was in a class of it's own. But when she looked at him, there was something, a depth and since the eyes are the doorway to the soul, she feared that if she stared at him for too long, she would fall into...his soul...and drown. But she just couldn't help herself, the more she got to know him, the more she wanted to get to know him and then they both realized that she was submissive an he, dominant. In fact he already knew this but was just waiting for the right time to reveal himself to her in a manner that wouldn't scare her away.
They met several times in private, sharing their innermost perverted sexual desires, intoxicating each other with not only words but actions, he begun to take her to places she only ever dreamed existed and some she hadn't realized she had wanted to go to for so very long. Yet never leaving the privacy and comfort of her home all the while becoming more comfortable in his company, to the point that the sexual scenarios that were now a reality were something she craved like an alcoholic craves alcohol.
The more he slapped her the more she wanted to be slapped the more he hit her the more she wanted to be hit - as boundaries an taboos vanished, the bond between the two strengthened. Beyond words, beyond sex, as she became more reliant upon him to guide her through her journey, their two souls merged. Yet all the while he was taking more and more of her heart body and soul, making her feel so content, so wanted, so needed, so Owned...
He was her safe place and now she was HOME.
The very first time he visited her flat, he brought a box of what he referred to as, 'toys'. They watched her own personal copy of "Story of O" in total silence. She always found silence uncomfortable, the proverbial calm before the storm. Was he enjoying the movie? Was he bored? She would have to wait until the movie was over and he walked to the box, remaining silent. He found some rope, pantyhose and wooden clothes pegs. Knelt by her, she instinctively knew when to move foward, to obey his unspoken words. To submit.
