I must begin this story with some background. I wrote "Flight Dreams" as a fantasy, a dream. I have had an online Master for a year. Now, a lot of āhardcoreā BDSMers will look at my stories and possibly think less of them, since I have had an online Master. But within this story, I will show you how true and intense D/s can be, regardless, and that if youāre careful, the Internet can be a splendid way to meet the Master of your dreams.
It was already 5 days into my visit. I had done it at last, bought the tickets, boarded the plane, and said goodbye to the world I knew, all to come and see him. The one person I could ever call Master. The one who stayed with me through good and bad times, through pain and betrayal, victory and pure, unabashed lust. I stepped onto a plane going from the US to the UK to be with someone I only knew from online and phone callsā¦ and I was thrilled.
I had seen him before, little pictures and occasional glimpses on a web camā¦ I melted at the sound of his voice. He had pushed my buttons, slowly played with my limits, kept me on my toes. When I had met him, I had just escaped a terrible relationship, one that had abused me. An online Dom with āmasterā in his name, I figured he, too, was a wannabe and told him to fuck off. But he stayed, kept chatting with me, and I began to trust him more. I refused to be a slave, feeling I would only ever do BDSM on the weekends. I knew I was a kinky sex person, but I never imagined I would go further than perhaps semi-consistent submission. I hotly rejected the idea of being a slave. āNot me,ā I had decided. āNever.ā
I knew he wanted a slave. He had suggested I consider and look into being a slave before I limited myselfā¦ and then he dropped it. Of course, when he dropped it, I grew more curious about what it was about being a slave that was so appealing. I researched it, spent many nights writing and thinking, turning the idea over in my head. I went to workshops about real time slavery and how it worked. We tried having an online Master/slave relationship, and I wasnāt ready; I had betrayed him, lied about it, and broken his trust. The day he uncollared me was one of the most miserable days of my life. It was then that I realized I really DID want to be a slave, someoneās pet. I worked to regain his trust, to rebuild the relationship I had messed up. Finally we looked at my being recollared to him againā¦ but the reality, I kept telling myself, was different from the fantasy, and I chose to wait on a final decision until we had met. I didnāt want to fuck up again.
There I had sat, wearing the collar we had chosen together, sitting on a 7 hour flight. I was squirming because I had been ordered not to masturbate for the week before this trip; this was going to decide if this is what I wanted, if I could truly be his submissive. I realized on the trip over that I wanted nothing more than to be his slave, to serve him, to be his property and possession. I knew in my heart that I would be secure and happy that way. So much for my vows!
I knew all along it was a 50/50 chance. It could be everything I ever wanted, or completely terrible. I was afraid it wouldnāt live up to my fantasies, that all my dreams would be disappointed. I was even more worried that it would be everything I wanted it to be, and then what? I was from the US, he lived in the UKā¦ what would we do if we were perfect for each other?
And so far, in the 5 days we had spent together, we were. We got along just as well in life as we did online and over the phone, matched well both sexually and personality-wiseā¦ We had been fucking fairly often (making up for lost time, we joked) and had gotten together with one of his female friends for an interesting threesomeā¦ but thatās another story for another time.
Still, we had not scened, per se. Not yet. Not until this night. We had had sex, certainly, and I had begged for permission to cum, something we had been doing over the phone for six months or more (even when masturbating alone, I needed to call up his voice ordering me to do so) but there had only been light bondage, playful spankingsā¦ we hadnāt had a true scene.
Then, this night, he told me to put on my schoolgirl outfitā¦ I had 2 minutes to put it on, or not only would there be no scene, thereād be no sex, either. Iāve never gotten dressed so quickly! It was a mess, not at all how I wanted it to beā¦ parts of my schoolgirl outfit, like my white bra and cotton panties, were in the wash, so I had to go without them. I came to him in my blue/green plaid skirt, button-up white shirt, hair in ponytails, glasses slightly askew, navy blue sweater vest declaring me as one of the āHoly Innocentsā pulled over it all. I sat on the edge of the bed. And I waited.
There is truly nothing as exciting or as terrifying as that first time. The knowledge that everything you dreamed about, all you've wished for is about to come true. You doubt you could be the slave you want to be, question your abilities... will you be the same beloved slut in the reality as you were online? Will it be everything you dreamed about? Can the reality ever measure up to the fantasy? All these questions flew in my head as I sat on the bed, waiting for the first order.
He looked into the corner at the chair that was pushed there, and with a small smile, he pulled it into the center of the empty space beside the bed. He indicated for me to sit on it backwards, and with a small blush I did so, my legs straddling the seat, my hands next to the back of the chair. Black bondage tape was wrapped around my wrists, and handcuffs attached me to the chair. I wouldnāt have dreamt of strugglingā¦ I just closed my eyes as he wrapped more tape around my ankles, each foot tied to a leg. I waited, my skirt up around my waist, the edge of my already wet pussy at the edge of the chair cushion, hands tied, ankles tied, eyes closedā¦
Then I heard the vibe turned onā¦ gently pushed against my cunt, and I gasped out. Something delicious about being tied up, unable to get away from whatever it is they choose to do to youā¦ being at the mercy of someone else. As I got used to the vibe buzzing insistently between my legs, he swatted my ass. My eyes flew open at the sensationā¦ and whack! He spanked the other cheek, not too hard for me to manage, but hard enough to get my undivided attention. A few more smacks on my now reddening ass, my pussy unconsciously pushing into the vibe, my breath quickeningā¦ and he pulled my vest and shirt up over my breasts. Roughly he pulled my breasts out of my velvet bra, his slender fingers pinching each nipple until I could barely breathe. I was loving every minute of thisā¦
He pulled my adjustable nipple clamps out of my bag, played with them as I struggled to regain my breath. Quickly each one was attached to my nipples. They werenāt too tight, just tight enough for me to know they were there, and to feel them on if my breasts moved. Sitting there, half clothed, vibe pushed against my clit and clamps dangling from my nipples, I felt humiliated and amazingly excited. I had never been so turned on in my lifeā¦ Suddenly he pulled on the chain connecting them, and I gasped at the sudden pain/pleasure that flew through me.
āLike that, do you, Katy?..ā he crooned softly, his breath caressing my ear seductively. I nodded, unable, perhaps unwilling to speakā¦ speaking would break the spell, and I wasnāt ready for that yet. I swallowed, my mouth opened slightly, nothing came out but another moan as he tugged the chain again. "Tell me, Katy... tell me what you're thinking right now," he teased.
"I'm... thinking... how good that feels, Master" I replied, barely able to find the words through the sensations. The vibe was still pressed against my clit, and I shifted a little to enjoy it more directly.
It was then he pulled out the flogger. Soft, sensual suede, it felt like silk against the skin. He dangled it in front of me and smiled. "What's your safeword, Katy?.."
"Red" I moaned, praying I would be feeling the flogger against my ass, hoping more than anything to have a pink, sore ass by the time this was over.
I was not disappointed.
The first brush with the flogger was soft, careful, slow... he began to build up, harder and harder as I wriggled with delight and moaned my approval. I had never been flogged- REALLY flogged- and this was a new and eagerly desired sensation for me. Each round left me breathless.
"How are you feeling, Katy?"
The question whirled around in my head. Feel? Feel? It wasn't computing, all there was was pleasure, pleasure and pain spiraling within me...
"Katy? How are you feeling?"
The question, repeated, was still left unanswered as I enjoyed the sensations glowing within me... then...
*whack!*
Right on my pussy. THAT got my attention like nothing else can.
