I knock at the door to your house, standing out front with my legs shaking. A million things go through my mind, "I'm a good girl, what would people think?" "Maybe he won't answer the door." "Could he be a serial killer?" "What if I don't like it?" Finally after hours, OK moments, the big heavy wooden door opens. In the doorway stands the man I've fantasized about for weeks, tall, strong, intimidating. Something about you draws me in. You can give me what I need. What I crave.
I'm frozen to the spot, you grab my arm and pull me in. "Hello, Sub, I've been waiting for you." I look into your eyes, still unable to speak, the rest of the world melts away. I know that this is the last time I'll be able to look into your eyes without permission, so I look carefully. In them I see myself, writhing in bed, tied down, being abused. I shudder. You know all my secrets, my desires, my fears. Since we met online you've drilled me, seeing my potential as a submissive, readying me for this moment. "Strip," you command simply.