urville
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Joined: 2/5/2013
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He had seen her many, many times in the days before they met…
Often, she would be the worse for wear, the hit and run victim of the drinks she’d confided her sad thoughts to during the course of the evening. True, she laughed a lot, but her eyes did not laugh, although he had felt they should. They did not share the grin that came easily to her lips, lips that had attracted him from the very start. Lips devoid of makeup, of the harsh traffic light redness of so many of those friends she seemed to surround herself with. Funny how her friends collected in groups to call her when she had gone to spend a penny, or for whatever other distraction had caused her to vacate her seat. Not friends then, but probably true to their natures, a pack of laughing hyenas waiting to attack the weak and defenceless, eager to see them fall.
He’d half listened to their words, not out of interest for what they said, their kind held no attraction, and their sort of conversation pained him. No, he’d listened to discover more about the woman he’d fixed his attentions on. However he soon discovered their talk of one-night stands and the many men she’d bedded quickly became boring. They lived such pale existences, one dimensional and clouded by their own inability to see, that which was so clearly before their eyes. No matter, in this voyage called life there are many players, those who contribute and those who wander aimlessly from act to act, not knowing or caring about the meaning of it all.
Now she, on the other hand, was a revelation. Quite plain by even his standards, and obviously worn down a little by the experiences she’d lived, she might have not been worthy of a second glance if it had just been the physical that was his goal. True, her body flowed and swelled in all the right places, and he’d found himself gazing at the dark shadow between her breasts once and reacted with the instincts of the man he was, the stiffening hardness of his cock a familiar friend. He’d smiled at that, not because he thought it funny he’d hardened to her charms, but because it seemed so natural to simply feel the blood coarse.
He didn’t think she had ever noticed him, why would she? She was the centre of attention for the many men who came into the pub, men who knew that she would please them in the alley outside or in the back of a car. All it would cost would be a few kind words, perhaps a drink or two and then a quickie to brag about to their mates. She had quite a reputation, perhaps deserved, perhaps not, but it drew men from miles around, men who would often find out for themselves whether the writing on the cubicle walls was true.
Some of the men were good looking, some married men out on the pull having escaped from the strings of their wives aprons and chiding eyes. Some were bastards, men who dealt in the twilight places where life is cheap, and personal satisfaction meant using some unfortunate for their two or three minute grunting before pulling their rapidly wilting manhood from mouth or cunt. He’d seen all sorts in her company, and wondered whether her body or her mind would snap first.
When he made his move it was on the spur of the moment, and totally unplanned. She’d been sitting alone, sipping thoughtfully from her glass. He had sat down beside her and simply started talking. At first he thought she hadn’t heard him, she had seemed far away, distracted even, and then she had rolled her eyes upwards to his, and she realised he was talking to her. He’d noticed a few lines crease her forehead, the corners of her mouth curve down and then she’d smiled that special smile of hers, the one she kept packaged ready for those who dared to sidle closer and move within her personal space. It was a rich and easy smile, and even knowing it was pre-packaged and available to all, he had warmed to her on the strength of that smile. Her eyes had flicked nervously up and down his body quickly, fearful lest he notice, but a reflex to her own needs. He could only guess at what she thought, but that didn’t matter, because now he had her close he knew he had been right, and whatever else might happen she would come willingly to wherever he would take her.
The conversation was frothy, light and moved at the pace of butterfly’s wings on a lazy warm summers day. She had visibly relaxed and seemed pleased that he was just talking, and in truth he felt at ease too. There was no need to hurry, if he was right they would have many days to come to know one another. But in the first tentative coupling of words and sentences, gaze and intent the pace was as it should be, and perhaps that, in itself, was why it felt perfect.
He’d taken his leave regretfully, not wanting to leave her, but wanting to show that with him things might be different, with him there would be more than furtive fumbles and spurting passion. She almost seemed shocked by his going, asked him if he’d like another drink, on her. In reality his body yelled yes, but his mind said wait…
That week had seemed like an eternity, but work kept his mind tied and occupied. But his dreams were full of imagery that left him hard and sweating in the morning, his erect cock a testament to the intensity of the moments, and the desires that followed him into the customary shower, which in deference to his excited state was turned to a mild frostbite setting.
He’d driven to the pub that evening playing the scene in his minds eyes –too much so – as demonstrated and remonstrated to by the two teenagers bedecked in penguin caps he’d nearly driven his car over. “You fucking wanker” they’d cried out, kicking his car for it’s part in the episode as they’d ran off. His fault he knew, but the thought of those two chained over a railing, their trousers round their ankles brought an easy laugh to his face and an end to the event.
When he’d walked in he knew she hadn’t seen him, her eyes were down on her lap, watching the glass that threatened to jump of her thighs. Mmmm, she had nice legs, and her breasts seemed fuller and more desirable. Almost unbidden his hands reached out, and as his fingertips brushed her cheek his words of greeting followed them, and she looked up and smiled a smile of thanks. Reaching down he took her hand and simply lead her outside, no words were spoken, no direction given, she had simply come.
On reaching his car she seemed to stiffen, to check herself mid stride, and then had simply climbed in, an act she might have accomplished a thousand times before. As he sat beside her the Homer Simpson Air Freshener guarding his drivers mirror swung from side to side, eyeing both of them with total indifference, wafting the smell of citrus to do battle with the smell of leather that reacted to the warmth of their bodies.
Reaching out he had taken her hand, and then began rubbing the tips of his fingers along the side of her wrist. Small, gentle surfing movements that seemed to surprise her and calm her.
He told her he had chosen her, and that she would become his. She had said nothing, although he was sure she had heard. As the words flowed effortlessly from his mouth he watched her eyes, her face, for the shock and horror that had had others recoiling in fear and loathing. As he talked of ropes and service, of leather and obedience he had waited for the hand he caressed to be drawn quickly away – but it was still under his touch – the fingers occasionally flicking as his passed close by.
He held nothing back, and even told her of his plans for her, his desires for her body, and her mind. He talked of stockings and silk, lace and gags, he shared his every intimate desire and his dream for their relationship, for that was in part what he desired. And then he simply asked, “Will you come – will you accept what I offer?” And she had replied, “Yes!”
Driving her home he had given her instructions to be complied with, and she had left the car lost in thought. He had felt elated and awash with emotions too complex to share here. Suffice to say the shower was dutifully turned down a notch and his teeth chattered their disgust at having to pay the price for the indiscretions of parts further south. His mind replayed the moments of her leaving, and he knew had he wanted, that she would have been his for the taking.
The room had been prepared before he left, he had had a week to prepare. The house, a sad memory of parents long departed was a fine example of its day, and had received a modicum of love and attention. He had thought to sell it, already owning a family home bereft of family since his wife had sailed off with a sailor she had docked with on a girls night out. She’d taken a daughter he loved, and a cat he’d hated, but that was long ago. He’d taken over the house and then decided to live his dreams, and much attention and detail had gone into those preparations.
For a male alone the house was tidy and clean, and the three stories often rang to the sound of music and the babble of voices as friends shared in its comfort. It was a home and more, it was an island in the storms of life and a secret place for like-minded friends to party and indulge the cream of fantasy and the pleasures of agile minds seeking fulfilment. As he closed the door he smiled and licked his lips in anticipation of what was to follow.
She was waiting as he’d instructed, and he was heartened to see that she was dressed to his command. The dress clung seductively to breast and thigh, and as she moved towards the car he reacted instinctively as the whiteness of panties flashed proudly through the dresses thin material. She smelled nice, the wisps of perfume curling invisibly to his nose and assaulting his senses with a tantalising aroma that made him catch his breath. She seemed quiet, not surprising in the circumstances, but she also seemed at ease, as though she knew at this time this was where she was meant to be.
The journey passed uneventfully, and rolling up his drive he stole a glance at the woman beside him and smiled, both to her and for himself. Climbing out of the car she looked at the house and he had wondered what she thought. As they crunched up the begrudging chippings he took her arm, not to urge speed, but as a little support, to show he was there for her.
As he opened the door the familiar smells rushed at him, and again he smiled. Reaching into his pocket he pulled the scarf slowly from its depths, marvelling as it uncoiled from the darkness like some sleepy python emerging form its lair. He’d wrapped it round her eyes, half expecting her to react badly; pleasantly surprised that she accepted it with grace and dignity.
The stairs were steep so he took her arm, careful that she did not stumble, but she moved as though unhindered, and the decent was like water flowing downhill, without issue and at a pace dictated by the surroundings. At the bottom he paused to drag the keys from his pocket and thrust them into the lock. As he opened the door he began to feel the stirring, the stiffening of his cock in anticipation.
He moved her quickly to the centre of the room, the plan already clear. The ropes had been prepared earlier, and hung ready, waiting to entangle limbs and body. Her arms first, and once tied she looked like a forlorn depiction of some lost soul on a cross. The gag was leather, bought on a journey months before, and had been used by others, but it was a good fit, and he tightened it knowing it would suffice for the task. The earmuffs were new – but he knew that they would complete the process – effectively remove her from all but the stimuli he provided. Kneeling at her feet he had gently pulled one leg, then the other, spreading them so he ankles were within reach of the straps ready to enfold and bind them. Content, he moved away and sat quietly on a chair, watching her carefully, alert to every twist and pull on the ropes that bound her.
“How long had she been standing?” he wandered, but then time was not a player in this evenings seduction, and besides, he really didn’t have anyway of knowing. The minutes had certainly rolled on by, but how many minutes he had no idea.
Rising silently he stood beside her and blew a warm trickle of breath against her neck, and she reacted as if branded with a hot iron –the hot iron lying in the brazier…
She’d risen, expecting more, and he’d waited, waited for the moment when she’d flopped down – uncertain. Then his fingers had risen to her back and slowly traced the soft heat of her body, risen across the flow of her ass and slipped down the soft skin of legs stretched and taut. Not pausing, the heat upon him, the fingers rose immediately, climbing and stroking warm flesh and inner thigh in unison.
On reaching the hem his fingers caught the material and it too joined the journey, scaling the soft flesh and rising above the white material he’d bidden her wear. As his fingers uncovered her ass he smiled, and beads of sweat trickled unbidden. He leant forward and grabbed the top of her knickers in his lips and simply pulled them down, catching as he did so, the beautiful musky aroma of her sex, seeing the glisten of her own juices sticking to the pubic hair around her lips….
The knife came easily to his hand, a beautiful blade, sharpened and honed, and it sliced through the material as though it were satin. The knickers simply fell to the floor. This was his ceremonial deflowering of the virgin. White, the colour off purity had been removed to reveal the sensuality and erotic within, this was his moment, and from here he knew all would follow, and that with this woman there would be much, much more to come.
He stood before her and slowly unfastened the buttons of her dress, his mouth dry as with each release the flesh beneath revealed itself. As the buttons straining to contain her breasts gave up their charges the red lace of the bra he’d asked her to wear shone brightly, and he succumbed to the delights of letting his tongue alight on the breasts that even now fixated his senses. The knife in his hand felt alien to this scene, but as it deftly cut the material restraining first the breasts, then the dress he knew it was right, and he smiled.
As she dropped almost lifeless against the bonds he quickly removed his own clothes, struggling to pull his slacks over his rock hard cock. The head, purple, swollen, engorged, was wet and moist – seeping pearls of pleasure that fixated his attention. His fingers ran the drops together and covered the head with a shining sheen of his cum. Moving behind her he’d pressed the hard shaft of his cock against her ass, wondered if she been privy to another’s entry of that little used pleasure zone. Reaching around her his hands cupped her voluptuous breasts, and marvelled both at their texture and the stiffening buds that poked stiffly back at his fingers.
His cock entered her cunt easily, without hand to aid it. Her tethered legs stretching the lips wide for the entry, and her own excitement simply lubricated the way. A little pressure, and then the joy and heat of her cunt devouring his cock. She pushed back against his thrust, and he knew the time was not right, that she was not ready so as he pulled back, for the thrust she squirmed for, he simply let the wet cock fall from the tight hole whose lips pulled at his cocks head. She pushed back hard – trying to capture the shaft so cruelly taken from her.
The razor and water were warm to his touch, and he had no way of knowing her reaction to what he intended, but that mattered not. As he knelt before her the water splashed over her pubic hair and she reacted as though scalded – but despite her best efforts the blade severed hair from the v of her body with surprising ease. Eventually she simply accepted, and as he carefully shaved the lips of her cunt he felt her shudder, and then tighten and then fall to be suspended by the ropes at her wrists. Drops of sweat fell from her breasts, marking his flesh and exciting his senses. She moaned into the gag, and again he smiled – she was assured as his sub, and he knew that this relationship would be good, for the both of them…
Now, the lust was on him too, and would not accept patience and control and diligence. He stood and simply shoved his hard cock into her water flecked, denuded cunt. As he entered she reacted instinctively, and pushed back hard against him, fearful lest it be taken away again.
But this time, he met her, thrust for thrust, and at the moment of his coming could only grab her tightly and hang on as his legs turned to jelly and his mind exploded like the spunk spurting high into her cunt.
How long he stood – buried deep in her cunt – feeling her flexing – her orgasms rippling along his shaft, he did not know. A very long time he knew...
Eventually the shrinking member made its own way out, and its head shone brightly, bedecked in trickles of their mutual satisfaction. Carefully, he released her hands and undid the gag – and as his cum stained fingers touched her lips her tongue snaked out to taste his sweet sticky juices. As though the taste buds demanded, her fingers probed at the trickle slipping from her sex and harvested more for the tongues second tasting. He marvelled at the smile on her face, and delighted to her tongue licking at his juices.
Such things delighted him, and she would come to know of his delight at covering his slave in his fluids, of his pleasure at seeing her body and orifices filled with his seed…
Together they lay on the floor, unaware to the hardness and the cold. Their lusts heat, still burning brightly, was making such trifles insignificant. Again he talked, and she listened, and nodded and smiled and licked her lips in anticipation.
And that is where we shall leave our couple, wrapt in each others bodies. I could tell of the mundane, of journeys home and torn and stripped clothes, but that is not the purpose of this missive. No, rather this brief story is about beginnings, of the opening flowers and brilliant sunrises that we al share on our journeys through life. Our two players have met, and he, the Master, and she, the slave, have embarked on a journey to places as yet unvisited, and experiences just waiting to be shared.
No normal relationship for them, but then again what is normal? They are together, they are happy, she to love, to serve, to please, to obey. He, to own, take and control, and yes, to love to. Where is the harm in that? And ask yourself, if there is mutual pleasure, and lust, and need, can such a relationship ever be wrong?
The journey has begun, and you and I may yet share more of its bounty, but another time.
Until then, be tolerant of that which you do not understand, for in its knowledge are dreams and hope aplenty…
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He had seen her many times... - 
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