The Tradesman Pt 02

Before I know it, we are back in the front of the shop. 'Join me for lunch here on Saturday.' It's not a request. I nod nervously, not quite sure how to take my leave. You lean forward and kiss me on my forehead. I exit the shop. Looking back over my shoulder, I see you leaning against a desk, your arms folded, watching me. The chill air bites into me, and I pull my coat around me as I head home... my mind is in chaos, my body fizzing with excitement, anticipation, and uncertainty.

The days crawl by until Saturday. I am tempted to drop into your shop so many times, but I do not. Finally, the day arrives. I dress carefully, not sure what to expect, but I select beautiful lingerie--seamed nude Gio stockings with my favourite suspender belt and a purple wrap dress that clings in all the right places. I am so nervous. You didn't specify what time lunch is, so I opt for a 1 p.m. arrival.

I enter your shop just a few minutes before 1. The door to your workshop is ajar, and I can hear the sound of activity from within. I don't even know your name. I knock gently at the door and wait. You open the door and hold out your hand.

"James... and you are?"

I stammer my name, and we shake hands. You smile wolfishly as I walk in. There are some big wooden barrels on one side of the workshop. You have thrown over a tablecloth and have a selection of meats, cheeses, olives, crusty sourdough, and a wonderful red. We sit and eat, chatting easily in each other's company... occasional pauses where I am acutely aware of your presence, knowing that you want me, what you want to do to me. I have butterflies and feel my heart racing at the prospect of what is to come.

I have no idea what you may be into... this is happening backwards. At this stage, I should have been communicating with someone before meeting. I don't want someone into canes or tawses. I wanted to experiment with a particular Dom type, and I have no idea what you are, who you are. I squirm in my seat, thinking of how crazy this is, but I can't do anything else but be here.

We continue sipping a glass of red after the food is finished. Then you bring out a set of cards.

"You're going to make me choose cards?" I ask.

"No, I am going to get you to tell me which cards you want... you will not be able to move as you speak."

You have caught me off guard. I wasn't expecting anything just yet, and suddenly I am in it again. All willpower has evaporated entirely. He knows it. He knows I know he knows. On each card is a limit. You have to tell me whether it's yes, no, or maybe.

But first... "I am going to seat you down somewhere else." I stand and look at that high-backed chair again. I hadn't noticed that it was set at a slightly different angle, with another chair nearby. You had planned this, thinking about where you were going to position me and what you were going to ask. You sit me down and secure my wrists. Then you stroke your finger down my throat, tracing down to my dress, where you loosen the wrap tie. My dress falls open, and you stroke around my breasts, touching the lacy fabric, taking your fingers across my skin.

You start showing me cards, running through your list for me to voice my kinks and limits--bondage, impact play, CNC, denial, edging... The list goes on with all the limits I can think of. There are the obvious red ones, but for me, quite a lot of maybes. You put them in three columns on the floor. There are a couple that were not listed, and I offer them up to go under the red category. When I have finished, you snap a quick photo of the arrangement. I feel more vulnerable now. You know mine. Obviously, some will match. Which ones? I can't move. You have my wrists secured on the chair rests.

You stand. "I believe this is something you relish." You take out your cock. You don't have to say anything. I look up at you as I open my mouth, licking my lips and staring hungrily at you. You alternate between thrusting into my mouth and letting me work my tongue around you. Then you stop, untie my wrists, and lead me back to the St. Andrew's cross.

"If at any point you are not okay, you say 'red.' I will stop. You are safe." I breathe a sigh of relief and relax. This is all part of you setting the protocols.

You secure my wrists to the edges of the cross, then my ankles too. "This was a good choice," you say as you undo the tie on my wrap dress, allowing it to fall away. You cast a look down my lacy bra, stockings, and panties. You smile knowingly and start stroking my sacred place with your fingers, stroking deeper until you can feel how drenched I am through my panties. You slide them to one side and slowly insert a finger inside me as your other hand wraps around my throat.

You take a silky blindfold out of your pocket and slide it over my eyes. Then you start working your mouth over my body. You push my bra down and feather kisses over my breasts. Your touch deepens once again inside me. I lean back into the padded limbs of the cross as your hands alternate between roving over me and finger-fucking me. Then suddenly, you're on your knees, gently licking my sacred place. Your tongue moves around my labia, your finger gently pressing into my pearl then moving away. I press into you as you lick and suck my labia. I desperately want you inside me and press into your touch, but you push me back.

At one point, you stand up and whisper in my ear, "At some point, I will have you tied so tightly that you can't even move a millimetre." My legs nearly collapse beneath me. As you finish what you are saying, you slide your fingers back inside me. I am so wet and desperate for your touch. "Fuck me, please."

I feel you unfastening my wrists, then my ankles. You pull my panties off me, then steer me back into the room. The blindfold is still in place, so I have no idea where you are guiding me. Yes, I was right--the saddle horse. You nudge me gently over the wooden structure, kicking my legs apart. Then you thrust into me from behind.

Your rhythm deepens, and I feel the telltale fronds of a flogger down my back, across my ass. Your rhythm slows as you start to swish the flogger against the side of my ass. Then you step back and start windmilling the flogger across my ass. Each swipe bites, and I know that my ass already has a pink glow. I also know that if you do go harder, I will just take it. You alternate between flogging and fucking me. Then you pull me back up from the horse and force me to kneel at your feet.

You fuck my mouth hard, pulling my head into you, making me gag. Then I take over, stroking your length, swirling my tongue, corkscrewing you, then divebombing. I feel the muscles in your legs start to tighten and feel your cock starting to move in my mouth. Then you fill me with your cum. I swallow you all down, looking up at you the whole time. "Good girl," you murmur.