Trusting Him

Susan pulled into a parking space in front of the apartment building and checked the address again. Once she confirmed that she was in the right place, she shut down the engine and rested her head on the headrest summoning her strength for what lay ahead. A knot tugged at her gut and she pondered it's meaning. She did not fear him, he had taken his time building trust, and so what was it? Her mind scanned the possibilities until she hit on it...she feared disappointing him.

She had read once that a good Dom did not need to overpower his sub; rather he knew how to bring his sub to him on her knees. Wasn't that exactly what had happened here? In the beginning, she wondered why he did not command her presence and take her, but as she learned more about the lifestyle, she saw the wisdom of his approach.

He had taken his time getting to know her, demonstrating an interest in her life. Making her feel secure by his steady presence and his consistent message. She had begun to relax, trust his place in her life and to respond to his verbal cues.

That he was in control and she was the submissive was evident from the beginning, but the level of control he exerted gradually increased. It was a subtle increase at first; she had barely noted it until he called her attention to it. But when her response to him was clearly evident, his control strengthened and her desire to submit only deepened as a result.

Her desire for this connection had continued to deepen until she thought she would be unable to contain it, and it was his command of the relationship that controlled the timing and circumstances of their first session. She was anticipating this session with a mixture of emotions that brought her to a state of continual arousal that had been present for several days now.

She should go in now, she thought, but looking at her watch she realized that she had a few minutes more. Her makeup was simple and minimal at his request. She did not need it, she realized as she surveyed the flush of excitement that colored her cheeks. "Who was this man she was coming to meet?" she asked herself, reflecting upon the things she had learned of him.

"Patient," she thought.

He had taken his time and had sought to be sure of her, her response and her character. Reserved, he did not readily display his emotions or openly show affection, but she had learned to read him anyway. He was solid, although a bit quick with his temper, as many Dom's are.

He was kind. He did not give false praise or tell untruths for the sake of another's feelings, but neither did he say hurtful things even when they were true. When he was pleased, Susan knew that he spoke the truth. She wanted to please him and when she did it created the warmth of joy within her.

So to, when he was displeased, he would state it clearly, and it would hurt her. His displeasure would inevitably create a crisis within her, which he was quick to note and smooth over, accepting her apology without delay and moving on.

Reliable, she realized, almost belatedly. She had come to depend on him. He did not withhold regular contact with her, despite his personal feelings and circumstances. She knew she could count on his continued presence. She also knew that their established boundaries would be honored.

Her mind wandered, thinking of the day she might be offered and agree to wear his collar. "Whoa girl," she cautioned herself, willing her mind to focus on the here and now. She drew a deep breath and the slowly released it, letting go of her emotions and leaving herself open to experience whatever he might have planned.

"It was time," she thought.

She opened the door and stepped out, surveying her appearance for the last time. The skirt was simple, her usual professional style with her blouse neatly tucked into the waistband. The buttons were loose revealing the top of her rather rounded breasts, her bra pushing them upward until they cascaded beyond the edges of her blouse providing a view of their movement as she made her way to the door.

Had he been looking, he would have seen her nervously biting her lip, but she checked her body language before knocking lightly on the door. She listened for movement and when she heard it she took a last deep breath and released it slowly allowing her tension to drain away with the exhalation of air.

His gaze immediately took in her appearance. She smiled confidently, betraying none of the emotion she was feeling, a fact he noticed as he searched her face. He did not break eye contact but instead drew her eyes to his as he spoke.

"Hello, I am glad you came." He paused before continuing, "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked.

Susan nodded her assent and then waited. His movement masked his sharp intake of breath, as he closed the door behind her. She moved aside nervously, not sure of what to do, but before she could speak another word he wheeled around and grasped her firmly to his chest. His eyes blazed with an intensity she had not yet seen and she physically weakened in his grasp.

"Your response is..." he trailed off.

" Yes, Sir," she responded with a squeak.

"That is your response tonight whenever I ask a question and if you do not answer properly, you will be punished. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," she managed to choke out as her mind searched out her body assessing her response and noting her heightened arousal.

"Very good," he stated simply, releasing her from his grip.

He reached down and took her hand, leading her into the main room. It was a moderately sized room, which appeared to have been cleared of clutter, making it feel more spacious than it was. He had taken his time to set appropriate lighting, not to harsh and not too dark. She realized that his plans included this room and she looked about trying to obtain a hint of what was to come.

She set her handbag down and then, at his direction, knelt at the side of a large wingback chair. This was their first session and it seemed that she understood little of what was expected of her. He stood looking down at her, correcting her posture until she was quite sure she looked ridiculous. He seemed pleased, nonetheless, and left her there for a few moments while he rummaged around what must have been a kitchen by the sounds emanating from it. He returned moments later and gave no explanation for his disappearance.

"Stand up and come here," he commanded in a voice that left no room for discussion.

She obeyed, rising as gracefully as possible. Susan stood next to him and lowered her eyes in an effort to escape the intensity of his gaze. He sensed her effort to escape, and firmly grasped her chin and forcing her eyes to his.

"Remove your blouse and skirt," he ordered.

Susan's fingers moved to the buttons of her blouse almost involuntarily, but her hands began to shake. Noting her discomfort, he reached out, gently running both hands up through her hair until his fingers were entwined in her locks. He pulled her gently to him and brought his mouth down to cover hers. He kissed her slowly and deeply at first, but soon enough the intensity increased. She responded with an intensity that matched his and she leaned into his muscular frame, her last reserves of doubt vanishing along with her will to resist.

His lips continued their assault on hers, unrelenting. The grip on her hair purposeful, as it slowly directed her head back, exposing her neck. Then suddenly, he pulled away to speak, his voice revealing a huskiness that was new to her.

"I need you to submit to me and trust me. We both want this so just relax."

His words, spoken like a request, giving her the responsibility for her own choice, disarmed her and she responded by laying her cheek on his hand, which curved to gently cup her face. Her eyes took on the glazed expression of desire.

He released her hair and used his fingers to trace her features, his fingers feeling the curves, rises and depressions that made her who she was. His fingers pressed apart her lips and she closed her eyes. She sensed that her hands had found their way to his chest and she touched him, exploring his chest as he explored her mouth.

She felt his heart rate quicken just before he broke contact. He stepped back abruptly and waited while she composed herself. Nodding toward her blouse, he added, "You may continue," as he settled into the wingback to observe.

Her fingers worked deftly, there was no shaking this time. She wanted to do this for him. Once the blouse was unbuttoned, she slid it off her shoulders, allowing it to drop into her hands. She folded it neatly and set it on the end table. She was wearing his favorite color, of course, and she checked his expression for approval.

That expression was unreadable and her fear of disappointing him crept back into her mind. Resolutely she pushed the fear aside and continued to the skirt. The zipper in the back was easy enough to lower in a graceful manner, but removing the skirt was more challenging. She elected to drop one side and hold on as she stepped out. She then held it in from of her while she folded it and set it with the blouse.

This was the part she most feared, and she lowered her hands to her side, visibly forcing her hands to relax open, rather then hang clenched at her sides. She waited for his command, but received instead his correction. She resumed her place on her knees at his signal and listened as he raised a few points she thought he had chosen not to address. She should have known that he would not have let it slip, that he would save it for a time when they were together.

They were minor things, but he was right, she needed to feel his control and little things that got by, undermined her respect for him. He would not let anything slip. It seemed she need not worry about disappointing him, she already had. His disapproval, though minor, fueled her desire for restoration, to experience his pleasure instead. When he was finished, he rose and stood over her. She kept her head lowered and waited.

"Forgive me, please. I will not disappoint you again," she managed.

"Yes, you will disappoint me, but as long as you continue to try, I will as well," he stated simply. Then paused, "Give me your hand," he commanded.

Susan complied, raising her right hand and placing it into his. He encircled her wrist with a rope he had obviously prepared, leaving Susan to wonder where it had come from since she had not seen it earlier. This was the first time she had been bound by him and she felt her tension level rising. She took long slow breaths to bring her panic under control.

He noted her response and whispered, "Trust me, you are safe. Enjoy the experience, let go for me." He moved behind her and touched her arm seeking the left hand. She nodded, as she passed her left hand behind her back, suddenly feeling helpless but equally sure of herself...such an interesting combination of emotions.

When she was secure, he returned to the chair, seating himself on the edge. He reached down and pulled her breasts from the bra, using the material as a shelf, which kept her in place, erect and pushed forward, begging for his attention.

"You want me to touch them, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir," she replied.

"Say it," he commanded.

" Please, Sir. Play with my tits, make them Yours," Susan's desire for his touch surged with her words...it was as if speaking them made it so.

He ran his hands over them, gently at first then more firmly. He alternated pinching and releasing her very hard nipples. She moaned from the attention. Her tits were sensitive and often the source of waves of arousal that stimulated her nerve endings everywhere.

"Tell me you like that," he demanded.

"I do, Sir. I like that very much," she managed through moans of pleasure. "Please don't stop."

"I will do as I please, won't I?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir," she replied breathlessly, her head rolling back as she gave herself to the waves of pleasure he generated with his touch. The variation in intensity was both unpredictable and exquisite.

"I'm going to have you suck my cock, then I am going to spank you, tie you down, tease you and fuck you, understood?" he stated in a calm voice.

"Yes, Sir, I understand," she replied, as he tugged at her nipple. She wanted to have him now and she noted that she was wet in preparation. He continued until she began to lose her balance and then abruptly stopped, reaching out to steady her with a quick motion.

He stood in front of her, "You know what to do," he stated. She did, of course, and began to undo his belt buckle. It was challenging to work his clothing with only her teeth and she soon sat back in frustration.

"I need your help, Sir," she whispered.

He reached down and completed the work she had begun. Moments later, she found herself staring at his firm, thick cock. A smile tugged at the sides of her mouth, as she realized that she aroused him. The knowledge of his arousal brought her pleasure, it heightened her desire to submit to him. She so wanted to please him.

Her lips brushed the tip...once, twice, and a third time...then she parted them allowing the tip to penetrate her mouth, touching the end with her tongue. She twirled her tongue around the end of his cock, feeling it harden still further in response to her effort.

Susan ran her tongue the length of his shaft, moistening the surface, her tongue traveling from side to side as she worked her way back out. Then she took him into her mouth and attempted to swallow him as she pressed toward the base. Pulling back she again explored the indentations and variations with her tongue.

His hands wound their way into her hair and she felt his control applied as he brought her to him. His shaft penetrated her throat and she found that she could take him wholly while the pressure was applied. Her eyes searched out his while he grasped her firmly and held her head steady. His cock moved in and out of her mouth as it would her pussy and she noticed that he watched the action closely.

Susan relaxed and enjoyed the experience, enjoyed the connection that she was aware forged a kind of bond between a Dom and a sub. She sucked his cock as it moved into and out of her mouth. Occasionally, he would pull out and hover outside her lips; he would pause to regain control, delaying his release. She held her mouth open in readiness to receive him again.

Sometime later she realized, she had lost her sense of time, she had been consumed by this connection, when he had let go and moved back from her. He reached down and assisted her to her feet, pausing a moment while she stretched her muscles. When she seemed recovered, he guided her around to the back of the sofa.

"I am going to spank you now," he stated simply. "I want you to feel my power over you. Do not ask me to stop or I will continue much longer that I intend at this moment, understand?"

"Yes, Sir," she managed through her rising anxiety. This time, however, he did not pause to kiss her tenderly. Instead, he reached around the nearby kitchen doorframe and brought forth several implements. That must have been what he was doing earlier, she thought.

"You get to experience several flavors this evening," he said, drawing obvious satisfaction at her widening eyes.

He pressed her forward. Her face rested in the cushions and she turned her head sideways so that she could breath. Her hips rested on the cushioned sofa leaving her feet touching the floor. He removed her panties and spread her legs apart until only her toes held her position. She had never felt so vulnerable in her life.

Susan was unable to see which implement he has chosen to begin with, but by the feel, she thought it might be his hand. It was surprisingly gentle and she was relieved. If this is what he meant by spanking, she would be fine.

She soon learned, however, that he was just warming the area and that what he intended was considerably more intense. He alternated sides and location with a rhythm that was unpredictable. The intensity varied with each stroke and he would wait to strike until she was not expecting it. She could not sense his pattern.

When she was certain she could not take anymore and would have to beg for him to stop, she found that he had sensed her limit and paused. His hand reached between her legs and brushed her clit. She found the stimulation intense and the sensation of her throbbing buttocks heightened her pleasure. She moaned as he continued, but did not move in spite of her intense desire to press against his hand.

His fingers sought out her opening, checking for her state of arousal. She was wet, very wet and he seemed pleased, "Ah, you like getting spanked, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir," she moaned.

He pulled away from her pussy and she could hear him selecting an implement. She gasped at the sting as it came down across her thighs, a flogger, most likely. He proceeded to administer another round on her already tender backside. Susan was sure she could take no more, but bit her lip. She could not imagine doubling the length of what he planned on delivering; her limits would be strained as it was.

Again, he stopped and proceeded to caress her pussy, noting how with each set of strokes her arousal heightened. There were two more implements, a riding crop and a paddle, and after each round he played with her pussy, bringing her to the edge of orgasm and then stopping.

Susan began to weaken, her emotion flooding her voice as she responded to his touch. He heard her frustration, her desire, her pain....and smiled. She was his now. He walked around the sofa slowly and lowered his face to hers, drawing eye contact. Her strained expression finding no mercy in his resolve.

"Susan, you select the last implement. If you please me, I will allow you to cum when I have finished," he explained.

"Your hand, Sir," she sobbed, struggling unsuccessfully to contain the emotion.

His hand brushed her hair, moving it to the side. He turned her head so that her facial expressions were visible from his vantage point around the sofa. Then he rose and returned to his place.

From the first stroke, she knew that this round was different. His one hand stimulated her clit while the other landed with punishing intensity. She was overcome by her arousal and the sting of his hand drove her to the edge quickly. He seemed to know it every time and eased off before she could complete.

"Please, Sir, let me cum," she begged.

"Are you asking me to stop?" he asked, bringing his hand down hard on her ass.

"No, Sir," she stated quickly betraying her panic.

"Very good," he stated. "You may cum now," he added as he pressed against her clit and slid a finger deep into her.

Susan felt herself let go at his command. The muscles in her pussy clenched down on his finger and she released a long deep moan from the back of her throat. The muscles contracted in an intense wave that traveled outward and down to her toes. She was beyond reason; she could only experience the sensation.

When she completed, she rested where she was, eyes closed, spent. He observed her a moment, while gently soothing her reddened buttocks and then pulled her still secured hands until she arose from the cushion. She was unsteady and leaned against his hard frame, drawing from his strength. He held her waist and allowed her to regain her composure.

"You did well," his voice reassured her.

Once she was able, he backed away and released her hands from their bonds. He rubbed her wrists gently and then asked her how she was doing. Susan informed him that she was fine...and, she was, she realized. The physical sensation had blended with her desire to submit to him, she had ridden waves of pleasure and given herself to the pain...lost to any reason and she knew she wanted more.