Thank you to I & F for your contributions to this story.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters depicted in sexual situations are 18 years of age or older.
Chapter One
Greg
"What are you doing?" I asked.
It wasn't a gasp - or a scream - or in any way a particularly shocked tone. It certainly wasn't especially loud. After all, it had never been a question of "if." Only where, when and by whom. Gazing up into the distorted reflection in the metallic front of the ice machine, I guessed her to be a businesswoman - an attractive businesswoman at that.
When I turned to face her my hard-on reacted involuntarily to the way her spectacular emerald green eyes dipped to the bulge in my pants - positively sparkling at what she was viewing.
"That's funny, I was going to ask the same of you," she replied.
So...game on then. I told her, "Waiting for you, of course."
"What for?" She knew the answer but wanted to hear it from me.
Her eyes came up and met mine. I could already feel her asserting control.
"To do your will." I enunciated each word - carefully - not wanting to be misunderstood. Nothing happened immediately and for a moment I thought, gut-wrenchingly, that I had made a huge mistake.
She cocked her head slightly, and I stood very still, hoping my inner trembling wasn't visible to her thorough head to foot examination. She then glanced both ways up and down the hotel corridor. Then turned back squarely to me.
"I've never accepted anyone I don't know into my service. Why should I accept you?"
A sense of relief flooded my body. She was The One. But then as quickly as my anxiety faded it reemerged, even stronger. How could I convince this beautiful woman that I was worthy of serving her? She was right. She didn't know me. Why should she waste her time with me?
"Robert referred me."
A flash of recognition crossed her face. I could tell that she was trying to suppress that window into her mind. "Robert ... ah yes ... he was ... adequate."
She leaned forward, her eyes boring into me. I instinctively dropped my eyes to the ground. "So, are going to be just ... adequate?"
"No ... Mistress," I replied, my eyes still gazing downward.
"Good. Show me." She pushed her black leather pump in front of me. It looked expensive. I couldn't help but see her shapely calf. My cock twitched in my pants. I'm sure she noticed.
"Here?" I asked, instantly knowing that I should have kept my mouth shut.
She looked at me as if I was an imbecile. I dropped to my knees in my expensive business suit and prostrated myself in front of her with my lips planted firmly on the top of her high heel. A shiver went up my spine when I realized someone could be walking down the hallway. I started licking the leather surface of her shoe, a mixture of intoxicating smells wafting into my nose. I wanted to remember that smell of leather, shoe polish, and the slightest hint of perfume she had carefully dabbed between her legs. I stole a glance upward to see her satisfied expression, secretly hoping I would be punished by this mysterious woman.
She then raised her foot up so I could suck on the tip of her shoe. She flexed her toe upward, exposing the sole. She was testing me. Without hesitation I started licking the sole of her shoe, picking up carpet fibers, small stones, and whatever else she encountered on the walk over. I didn't care. I was only focused on pleasing her, and my immediate submission was what she wanted.
"That's good my little pet. Now the heel."
Her praise sent an electric charge through me. I had pleased her. She might accept me into her service. I put the entire heel in my mouth and then closed my lips around it, dragging the heel out of my mouth slowly. It made me feel like a slut - her slut.
"Look at me," my Queen said, using the tip of her finger to tilt my chin upward. I stared at her. I gazed into those deep green eyes. Her eyes dared me to go lower. I wanted to. I wanted to see her perfect breasts and her narrow waist, but her eyes wouldn't permit me to look elsewhere.
"You want this," she said definitively.
"Yes ... Mistress," I said, only to confirm that I had heard her. She knew she was right.
"Do you want to ...
fuck
me?" She spat out the phrase as if it was a bad taste in her mouth.
I didn't care how she said it. All that mattered to me is that she said it. "Yes, Mistress."
"Of course you do. Most of the men I take into my stable have never even seen my pussy, let alone fucked it. But I wouldn't take you if you didn't want to."
Then, as if she showing me what I would never have, she spread her feet apart a few inches and pulled the hem of her skirt up to reveal the lacy tops of her thigh high stockings. Still on my knees, I tilted my head upwards to see her tastefully short skirt, now bunched up to the tops of her legs, exposing the shadowy area between her slightly spread legs. I could smell the perfume. I could see the creamy white skin of her thighs. My erection was pressing uncomfortably against my pants.
She let go of the hem of her skirt and allowed me to continue to look at her. She was wearing a sheer grey silk blouse with one extra button unbuttoned. I could see the lace on the edge of her bra and the pale white skin of her plump breasts. I wanted desperately to take my cock out of my pants and stroke it.
"I may keep you." She turned around and started walking down the hallway.
I followed her, now freely looking at every inch of her. She had long chestnut brown hair that was up in a French twist. Her slender frame belied the swell of her breasts. Her hips swayed, not enough to be thought of as cheap, but enough to be extremely sexy. Her heels accentuated the gentle curve of her calves.
She went into the elevator lobby and pushed the "Up" button. The door opened. She entered and turned around. She nodded. I got on the elevator, making sure to stand behind her. She hit "15."
"Knees," she said, speaking towards the elevator doors.
I got on my knees, praying that the elevator would not stop until we got to the 15
th
floor. I watched the display read 11 ... 12 ... 13 ... 14 ... 15. Thank God we didn't stop.
My relief was short lived. There was an elderly couple waiting to take the elevator down. Their mouths were agape when they saw me kneeling behind my Mistress. I wanted to dig a hole and crawl into it. Instead, Mistress walked casually out of the elevator without looking back. I crawled on my hands and knees behind her, my silk tie dragging on the ground. I didn't look back but I was sure that the couple was staring at me.
We got to her room. She fished the room key out of her purse, opened the door, and then looked down at me, conveying with her eyes that I was a pitiful sight, a successful businessman in a $1,000 suit, on my knees, silently pleading to be invited into her room so she could have her way with me.
"Wait here," she said as she walked into her room, letting the door close behind her. The door closed with a resounding "click."
So there I was, on my knees, waiting in the hallway of an airport hotel, looking at the fraying carpeting and peeling wallpaper while nervously watching both ways to see if anyone was coming. My mind went back to that fateful day about a month ago. I had finalized my divorce about a year before, and was feeding my latent desire to be dominated. To be fair about it, it wasn't something where I woke up one morning with an unquenchable thirst for submission. It was the result of soul searching, watching porn, and reading a lot about the world of D/s.
My sexual relationship (or lack thereof) with my wife was one of the main reasons for the divorce. I was the only person she had ever had sex with, and her tastes were firmly anchored in vanilla - missionary position sex with little foreplay and no variations. After a few years of her complete indifference to spicing up our relationship I decided to explore on my own - not an affair per se, but an exploration of what was out there that I was missing. My first step was porn. I hadn't really watched a lot, and my wife had absolutely no interest in it. I watched everything, ranging from vanilla sex to scenes involving spanking, whipping, anal, and even pissing. I was aroused by it all, but particularly drawn to scenes where the woman was dominating the man. Over time, I was watching domination scenes to the exclusion of all others. It scratched an itch I had had for years.
I started reading about it. There was a whole world out there for me to discover. I lusted for the power exchange - to have my fate in the hands of another. I also wanted to experience pain, to be expertly meted out by a Domme to increase both her pleasure and mine. I spent my late hours in my den masturbating to scenes involving a Domme punishing a man, teasing him and withholding his orgasm, and then completion when the man is finally allowed to cum. The intensity of my orgasms masturbating to these videos far exceeded the ones I had with plain vanilla sex.
Unfortunately my wife had no interest in any of this. I hinted at my submissive side, encouraging her to dictate the action. Those hints fell on deaf ears, which relegated me to frequent late night visits to my office and the loyal services of my right hand.
Our disagreements about sex, and other matters that I won't bore you with here, led to our divorce. After the divorce, I spent much more uninterrupted time feeding my thirst for domination, indulging in hours of porn, trying phone sex with Dommes, and scouring adult websites to see how I could safely hook up with someone. But nothing came of it. It wasn't until I was talking with a co-worker that my life was destined to change.
I went on a three-day business trip with a co-worker, Robert, to introduce our company's new accounting software to a potential client. We worked late into the night and then adjourned to the hotel bar to unwind. We had probably more than we should have, with the alcohol loosening our lips. We talked about my divorce and in a moment of temporary courage, I told Robert about my interest in D/s.
"I ... ummm ... am intrigued by domination and submission. I ... you know ... am just curious. I haven't done anything ..."
The alcohol induced haze in Robert's eyes momentarily cleared. "I know what you're talking about."
"You do?"
"Look. Can I trust you?" he asked.
"Of course ... of course ... this stays between the two of us."
"I'm already in my third relationship."
"No shit."
"I love it."
"Why?"
"It's hard to describe. It makes me feel whole. I get more pleasure from pleasing my Mistress than I do from any sexual stimulation. You know, I do enjoy getting off, but the real high is pleasing her."
