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My life changed significantly after that random encounter in the hardware store. Jake, the owner, had forced me to confront my desire to be ually submissive in the back aisle of the store. That encounter culminated in my kneeling in front of him and sucking his cock with my hands bound behind my back.
The following day, he’d delivered the rope I’d purchased to try out selfbondage. As an experienced dom and rope expert, he had insisted. And I couldn’t seem to stop playing with fire. When he’d finished showing me a few basics and seemed prepared to leave, I had begged him to stay. I wanted him to tie me up in the ways he’d whispered to me in the store. Things got heated from there, and before I knew it, I was agreeing to Jake’s demand that I would be his. Without any full understanding of what that might entail.
I can’t claim to have been completely innocent. I’d trawled all the websites. Thought about it for years. But the idea of this belonging to a man I barely knew, had just met a day ago was beyond ridiculous. The man seemed decent enough, but this still seemed like a bad idea.
I’d had time to think about things as I showered. Jake had gone to pick up the pizza he’d ordered for dinner from the brickoven place two doors down. Leaning my hip against the cool tiled wall, I let the water revive me. I tried to get my brain to process at a somewhat normal speed after three mindblowing orgasms. I needed to ask some good questions over dinner and be prepared to negotiate my way out of this if I had to.
I was so fucked.
The truth was that I didn’t want to raise objections, didn’t want to get out of anything. Ridiculous as it sounded, I wanted to belong to him. All my latenight longings swirled in my head as the water swirled down the drain. I saw myself in a heavy collar, on a leash, at his feet; saw myself bound in his ropes. That trembling that had never really stopped for the last two days amped up again. I fought it down, breathed, and started making a list of questions.
By the time I emerged, fully dressed and armed for battle, Jake was back. Instead of using the large dining table that doubled as my desk, he’d set things up on the coffee table at the other end of the large room. He’d pulled it close to the oversized, wellweathered leather sofa. He’d also rifled through my scanty kitchen supplies and found plates, glasses and silverware, even napkins. I was impressed.
As I came into the room, he was uncorking a bottle of red wine that he’d picked up with the pizza. He lifted it toward me with a raised eyebrow and I nodded, so he poured two glasses. I hovered a bit uncomfortably; he had made himself at home to the point that I had nothing to do.
When he’d finished pouring the wine, Jake leaned back on the sofa and stretched out his legs. He looked me over as if I was purposely testing him. “Take off your clothes,” he said in a level voice that did not invite argument. “I like seeing your body.”
I unconsciously clasped my hands behind my back. My voice sounded unsteady. “We need to talk about this. What I said back there…in the bedroom. I need to know what it means.”
He opened the pizza box and took out two slices, putting one on each plate. “Of course you do,” he said reassuringly. “We’re rushing the gate with this in every way. I’d be worried if you didn’t have questions. Now take off those clothes and come sit beside me so we can talk.”
I found myself doing as he commanded. It sounded reasonable coming from his mouth. After I’d folded my clothes and put them on a nearby chair, I walked to the sofa and sat down, leaving a buffer of space between us. I could see he wanted me closer but decided to let me have my way on this one.
He handed me a plate. “Eat,” he ordered.
My eyes flashed at him as I muttered, “Bossy.”
He smiled, but there was some steel in his voice as he said, “I believe the correct response would be ‘Yes, Sir’ and I would advise you to remember that from now on.”
I ducked my head and took a bite, slowly chewed it, then reached for my glass and took a long swallow of wine. Finally I looked back at him and said sweetly, “Yes, Sir.”
He laughed, the first time I’d heard him do so. The sound was unaccountably warming. It made me want to press up tight against him. Instead, I started asking my questions.
“What does it mean, to be yours?”
He watched me, making sure I took another bite before he answered. “It can mean a lot of things. It’s up to us how to define it. For now, let’s say that it means mostly what I said to you. That you will not let anyone else touch you except me, and that you’ll let me be the one who teaches you the things you long to know.”
I considered this. It sounded rational if any of this was rational. “For how long?”
He drank some of the wine and apparently enjoyed it as his eyes half closed when he swallowed. I wanted to trace the path of it down his throat with my lips. I was in some deep trouble.
He looked at me again. “I’m not an ogre. Either of us can decide not to continue at any time. All I’m asking is that, if you’re going to explore this, you do it with me as your guide and partner.” He put his glass down and stroked a finger down my thigh. “You’ve got good instincts, but you’re incredibly trusting. I wouldn’t want to see anyone take advantage of that.”
I couldn’t help a wry smile, “Except you?”
I’d pushed him too far. His brows drew together. “You should be taking this very seriously. You just allowed me to tie you up, a man you hardly know. Granted you let your neighbor know, but…” he paused, looked a little pained, “so many things could have happened.”
My jaw nearly dropped at his seeming doublespeak. And yet, he’d been ready to leave. It was me who had begged him to stay. On some level I just seemed to trust him instinctively. Why? I had no answer to that.
I put my hands up in surrender. “Okay, I get it. Let’s say that I agree conditionally to this. I still need some idea of what you would expect. I know there are things…limits, lists…that people in this situation talk about. Right?” I’d started out confidently, but my voice ended with a little upward quaver that made me want to slap myself.
His eyes went to my nearuntouched slice of pizza meaningfully, and I took another small bite. “Little bird,” he said, in the voice that wrapped me in a sensuous layer of silk, “Let’s just explore this for now. I’m not sure you know enough to make reasonable guesses about limits and lists at this point. I promise I will listen to your concerns if something doesn’t feel right.”
Something about the way he said it made me shiver. Because what I heard is that he’d listen to my concerns, but then he would make the decision about whether or not to proceed. And the idea of that was making me wet all over again, despite my efforts to have a neutral conversation about this.
What’s worse, he knew it. Gently clasping the thigh that was closest, he drew it toward him. “Let’s start with basics,” he said, voice low but firm. “When you’re with me, you will always sit, kneel or lie with your legs apart. To show me you’re available to me at any time, ready to please me. Do you understand?”
I nodded as his fingers came back up the inside of my thigh, resting where just the tips of them could touch and play with my labia. He pinched my thigh, hard. “Say it. In full.”
My voice sounded oddly breathy. “I understand, Sir. I will keep my legs apart for you.”
“And why is that?”
I stumbled a little over the words. “For your enjoyment, Sir. And because yyou own me.”
He leaned back, satisfied. “Good girl. Keep eating.”
I ate another bite of pizza without tasting it, following it with a swallow of wine while his fingers played in me. A line appeared on his forehead. “Your pussy is swollen. You’ve not had in a while?”
I felt myself blush. He was certainly blunt. “Nno, Sir. It’s been a while. As I said, the men I had…uh, the men I was with before, it just wasn’t that great.”
He gave a halfsmile that didn’t diminish the possessive look in his eyes. I had the heady thought that he was assessing his property, making sure that it was in good condition. For some reason, that aroused me even more. My pussy clenched around the finger he’d slowly inserted in me.
His gaze shifted to my face, “What were you thinking just then, pet?”
“I…well…I was thinking about the way you act as if you own me, like I’m your property…” my voice trailed off.
He chuckled, “And that thought clearly turns you on, little slut. If you keep that up, I’m going to take you again, when I’m trying so hard to restrain myself.”
The idea of it appealed to me wildly that I had the power to tease him to the extent that he lost control, that he pulled me up and bent me over the arm of the sofa, buried himself in me again, fucked me until I was so sore I could barely walk. I squirmed as his fingers became less exploratory and more purposeful.
His voice rumbled in my ear. “Any pleasure you have from now on will come from me. You are not allowed to touch yourself, not allowed to use a vibrator or anything else on yourself, without my permission. And whether we’re together or apart, you will always ask for my permission before you come.”
His words and fingers were driving me mad. I could barely remember the list of questions I’d wanted to ask. He’d only answered the first few. Yet I wanted to say yes yes to everything, whatever he wanted.
Apparently I spoke aloud; at any rate, he gave another low chuckle. He pushed back his plate, having eaten two large slices already. Eyeing me, he gathered both my wrists and held them behind my back with one large hand. With the other, he picked up my barely nibbled slice and held it to my mouth. “Take a bite. You need energy. I’m guessing you haven’t eaten much today?”
I shook my head. I was getting overwhelmed with all of it again. He’d stirred me up, only to leave me like that. Having my wrists pinned behind my back give me a strange, breathless feeling. Eating was the last thing on my mind, but he insisted until I’d managed to eat most of the slice.
He held the glass of wine to my lips, watching carefully while I swallowed. I felt like a doll, made to eat and drink and even sit as he wished me to do. I closed my eyes in a sort of erotic daze.
I wasn’t expecting him to stand and then pull me to my feet, my back to his chest. He rubbed against my ass, making sure I felt how hard his cock was while his hands tightened on my shoulders deliciously. So tight I thought they might leave marks. I hoped they would.
“You’re tired. I’m going to tuck you into bed. Sleep well, sweet little bird. When you wake, take the day tomorrow and think about the things we’ve talked about. The things I’ve showed you so far. I’ll call you after the store closes tomorrow night. If you decide that you don’t want to continue, tell me then. Otherwise, I plan to take you to my club on Friday night and then spend the weekend with you.”
I was dizzy with excitement at the thought, but I knew he was right. I should think about all of it tomorrow. In the meantime, I let him put me into bed, stroking my body as he laid me on my side. I gently curled up.
He whispered, “You look beautiful. I’ll think of you just like this when I close my eyes tonight.”
I caught at his hand and kissed it. “Please, Sir. Give me pleasure one more time before you go. Make me come again. I’m so close…”
He rested his hand on my cheek. “I think not. I like the thought of you twisting with need for me but obedient to my command. It will make my pleasure more intense when I come tonight. You’ll obey me, won’t you?”
I sighed, “Yes, Sir. I’ll obey you.”
My dreams that night were muddled. A couple of times I woke up after crying out, vague memories of some erotic dream lingering. Once my hand had crept between my legs before I remembered my new rules. Sheepishly I got up and drank a glass of cold water, willing my body to cool down as well.
When I woke in the morning, Jake had texted some instructions for me to follow. I imagined his voice as I studied them, arousal bubbling through me like champagne:
“If you are at home today, remain naked. If you must go out, you may dress, but as soon as you are home again, strip. Think of my hands on you, but remember that you are not allowed to touch yourself with the following exception: Three times today when you wake, at midday, and before I call you this evening stand in front of a fulllength mirror nude, your legs widely parted. Put your hands beneath your breasts and lift them, as if offering them to me. Then say, ‘I am yours, Sir.’ Concentrate on the words. Think about what they could mean. Repeat them as you arch your back and roll your hips up. You are begging me. Do it as if my eyes were on you. You may play with yourself, touching your clit, for no more than a minute. Less if you feel you’re close to losing control.”
Just like that, it had begun. I wondered whether he’d given me this task to keep me engaged, keep me from chickening out or overthinking things something I had an unfortunate tendency toward. But the task gave me something to focus on, encouraged me to remember how I’d felt yesterday and the day before in his presence. How easily he’d taken command of me and how feeble my resistance had been.
I felt a guilty shame. What was happening to that strong, incontrol woman I’d prided myself on being? How could I square that part of me with my desire to belong to this man, to submit to his wishes? And yet, there was a sense of excitement and joy almost a recognition that this was also a part of me that got stronger each time we’d been together.
I shook my head. It made no sense. Yet I found myself in the bathroom, posed as he’d ordered, repeating that potent mantra he’d given me: I am yours, Sir. It conjured up all sorts of feelings in me, from fierce desire to an odd sense of safety and contentment. A minute seemed a pitifully short amount of time to touch myself, yet I was surprised how fast I got to the point where I needed to stop or risk breaking his rules. I let the telltale tracks of arousal remain on my thighs.
In between those three interludes and trying to work from home, my thoughts kept getting derailed. I. wandered into my bedroom and looked at the bed, remembering how Jake had tied me up there yesterday. I pulled out the rope restraints he’d tied to the bedposts, running the lengths through my fingers while my mind wandered. Logical, coherent thought seemed beyond me. I was a scorching pit of need, and I had no intention of saying no to Jake when he called.
The hardware store didn’t close until 9:00 pm on Thursdays. I’d looked it up online, staring at the photo of Jake and his employees that graced the website. By 9:05 I was on full alert, my phone in my hand. To my surprise, there was a knock at my door instead.
Still naked, I grabbed my robe just in case. Through the security peephole I saw Jake, lounging with one hand on the doorframe. I quickly tossed the robe into the hall closet and opened the door. The smile on his face turned to heat as our eyes met, but he seemed in no rush to enter as he took in my very exposed curves. I waited for his perusal to end, anxiously hoping none of my neighbors would walk by.
After a few moments, he quirked an eyebrow. Belatedly I realized he was waiting for me to ask him in. My voice higher than usual, I said, “Please come in…Sir.”
He brushed past me, and I closed the door quickly. The next moment I was pressed up against it, one of his hands circling my neck and the other thrust between my legs, which I opened wider under his onslaught.
His voice was barely controlled and dangerous. “I take it from your shameless greeting that you’ve not changed your mind?”
I nodded. My throat was suddenly dry, but I tried to find my voice. “I haven’t changed my mind.”
“Good,” he breathed, eyes inches from mine. “You’re nice and wet for me. Did you carry out my instructions today?”
I nodded again. “Yes, Sir, just as you said.”
“Then you’ll show me now,” he ordered, releasing me. He took my wrist and led me into the bathroom. Standing behind me, he faced me toward the mirror, his hands on my waist. I positioned myself, legs wide, back arched, hands cupped under my breasts, lifting them. His foot nudged my legs even further apart. Our eyes connected in the mirror. “Say it,” he ordered.
“I am yours, Sir.” I said unsteadily.
“Again. Louder” His voice was merciless.
“I am yours, Sir,” I said with more confidence.
His hands moved to twist my nipples cruelly, slowly increasing the pressure until I gave a little cry. “Whose are these?”
“Yours, Sir. All of me is yours.”
“And this dripping pussy,” one hand moved between my legs again, “Who does it belong to?”
“To you, Sir. Only to you,” I panted.
His eyes glittered with satisfaction as they watched mine. I could only imagine what he saw there. Yanking my hips back so that I could feel his solid erection, he said roughly, “I couldn’t get you out of my mind today. Every time I walked down that back aisle, all I could see was you, on your knees, so entirely focused on my cock in your mouth that you didn’t care if anyone saw us.”
I closed my eyes at the image his words conjured, weaving a little on my feet. His hands steadied me.
“Eyes open,” he said fiercely. “I need to see them. See your submission. I was afraid you’d say no. I know how thoughtful…careful…you usually are.”
Again, I wondered how he seemed to know me so well. I kept meaning to ask him what he’d meant about watching me for the past couple of years. Somehow it got buried beneath more pressing questions.
“Fuck being careful,” I said, the words bursting from me, “I want…to be yours, Sir. It’s all I can think about.”
His hands gripped mine and pulled them behind my back as he twisted me to face the counter. Before I knew what was happening, he’d pushed me down until my shoulders rested on it. He stepped between my spread legs; I felt the denim of his jeans between my thighs. He unclasped my hands, placing each one carefully on the edge of the counter beside my body, saying, “Hold on; keep your hands just like this. Don’t move them unless I tell you.”
I gave a little moan of acknowledgment and gripped the counter. I could hear him unzip his fly, then rip open a condom and put it on. A moment later he slid inside my pussy, inch by glorious inch, so slowly that I lifted and pushed back, wanting more. A hard swat on my backside warned me to be still.
When he slid his cock all the way home, he paused. “There. Is that what my needy little slut needs?”
My strangled voice begged him for more. “Yes…oh, god. Yes, Sir. But please. I need more. I need you to…move. Please, Sir.”
He withdrew slowly, then slammed into me. I couldn’t help crying out with satisfaction. He began to thrust in earnest. Wrapping his left hand around my hair, he pulled back hard, lifting my head enough that I could look into the mirror and see him behind me, could study the hard expression on his face, the curve and flex of his muscles. With his right hand, he reached under me to tease my clit. Despite his earlier warning, I couldn’t keep my hips still, especially with his fingers relentlessly rubbing over that nub.
I suddenly realized that I was a split second away from orgasm. Too late I remembered that I had to ask for permission. I was already coming, hips bucking, hands whiteknuckled on the counter as I squeezed my eyes shut. I moaned, “I’m sorry, Sir. I’m coming. I…can’t hold it back.”
He must have enjoyed the sensations of my pussy spasming on his cock because he followed right behind me. I could feel the short jerks as he came, but he continued roughly me until I had a second, surprising orgasm. Until we were both too exhausted to move.
ero
