After our initial encounter I knew waiting for our next time together would be tough. I had admired this woman for years and now that I had had a taste of her, I couldn't get enough. I knew that she needed to ease in to things, so I resolved to take it slow. And despite the fact that she repeatedly told me that she couldn't get enough, I was concerned about going too far, too fast.
The morning after our first hour together she texted me when she was alone. I let her know how pleased I was with her- her body, her smell, her taste. I gave her her first task- she was not to look at anyone outside of her household in the eye for the day if she could safely avoid it and would report back to me in the evening how many people she had broken this rule with.
I also told her what to wear. I knew that my cock was larger than she had expected and that her delightful pussy was swollen from our session the day before, so I commanded her to wear crotchless panties under tight jeans. I wanted her to be reminded of her new owner every time she took a step or shifted in her seat. She begged me to allow her to wear shorts, as it was the nicest day in months. I knew there was a chance I would see her in the afternoon and could think of nothing better than catching a glimpse of her sculpted legs, so I acquiesced. I also knew that shorts would allow her easier access to her clit when she was overwhelmed by the need to touch herself, although she knew she was forbidden to orgasm without my permission. After a few more texts and a brief chat, I told her to check in with me before the end of the day to report. I gave her my schedule and let her know how pleased I would be to see her if she could figure out how to manipulate her day to grab a few minutes with me. I then headed out to go on with my day.
Several hours later, shortly before breaking for a late lunch, I got a text from her that she was nearby. I stepped out and saw her waiting in a vine-covered alley behind my workplace. Her downcast eyes belied the flush in her cheeks. I knew she was excited at the risk she had taken in stopping by. I knew that she was reminded of my presence with every step she took in those panties. I immediately recognized her shorts as something she had worn at an out-of-town conference we had both attended two years before, and realized that my mentioning that I remembered that would let her know that I had indeed been watching her for all those years. When I did, she looked at me in silent astonishment for a few moments, then spoke:
"You remember that? I thought that no one was noticing me for all that time..."
I assured her that I had noticed her- that without effort, I could name what she had been wearing almost any time we had been together, including the pink sweater and dark jeans she wore when we first met. I had never had to make any special effort to recall her clothing, as every time I saw her I felt an electric thrill at her presence and all of my memories were heightened. We quickly ducked in to her car and drove over to a side street to talk. I knew we needed to learn each other's boundaries and set some rules.
We started with names. I told her that in public we would stick with our regular, vanilla names. In private, I would call her whatever I felt she deserved at the time- anything from pet to slut to fucktoy. Whenever she had to speak to me about herself, she would refer to herself in the third person as "this girl." I've never liked titles like "Master" or "Lord," but I felt it proper that she would address me as "sir" when speaking to me. I changed her contact info in my phone to be only her first initial- from now on, she would only be the elemental being "j," not the fully-formed woman with all of the daily struggles and issues that came with her name.
I laid out the rules for our public interactions. She would not be allowed to make eye contact with me until I had acknowledged her. She would serve me in any creative way she could so as to keep the true nature of our relationship hidden from those around us. This might mean getting me a drink or helping me carry something, but always on the safe side. I would expect her to learn my likes and dislikes for food, music, and any other sensual experience that could be shared in public.
I briefly gave her the rules for our private time, but told her that she would learn more as we were able to get more time together. She would kneel on the floor before me unless I gave her permission to sit or stand. She would always make her body available to me, but if she felt feisty I would expect her to resist me and make me overpower her.
I asked her what I needed to know about her. She looked at me hesitantly for a few moments, then spoke:
"If there is anything you want me to buy- toys, clothing, whatever- tell me what and I will get it. For you." She blushed and averted her gaze. I realized that the thrill of publicly purchasing anything erotic was something she could only enjoy under orders.
"Good," I said. "What else?"
"I can't stand to be massaged. I hate the kind of soft touching that comes with a manicure or pedicure. I need to be held. I need to be grabbed. I need to feel you on me." She glanced away, then looked back at me steadily.
I put my hand on her throat. And held it. Hard. "Like this?"
She whimpered. Looked at me. Tried to nod her head. "Yes," she whispered, as a tear trickled down her cheek. She looked blissful.
I reached for her waist with my other hand. I grasped her hip. She tried to swivel toward me in her seat, but I pushed her back. I held her hip so hard that another ten or fifteen seconds of pressure could cause a contact bruise. I put my mouth up to her ear and whispered, "What else?"
"I am a clumsy person. I bruise easily. If you leave a mark on me, no one will be suspicious."
I breathed deeply, taking in her scent. I was rock hard and seconds away from taking her right there, in her car. I paused to gather myself.
"Good," I said. I released her and leaned back. "I won't mark you yet. I haven't decided what's best- but it will be from my hands, not from a whip or cane. I need to feel you under my touch. When the time is right I will mark you as my property- after you've earned it."
She looked back at me. She was flushed and breathing hard. She was obviously having trouble focusing. I leaned in toward her.
"Are you wet?"
She lowered her eyes and nodded her head.
"Tell me what you want."
She looked at me. I could see the conflict play on her face. She shook her head.
