Two people, and their beginning.
This was written quite a while ago, as what started as an erotic email exchange. Although marked as fiction, it is based on a true encounter. This part, covers the fourth email I wrote.

Although, feedback is always greatfully received, and I look forward to reading your comments, the first few parts are already written, and are published here as a means of sharing. Subsequent parts of the story, that are as yet unwritten though, I hope to develop as I go along.


"My flat. Tonight. 7:30. Heels, knee highs, short skirt, suitable top of your choosing. No panties!!!" Read the text I sent two hours earlier. Sure enough, my buzzer sounds, two minutes early as you always do. You never were sure if the time I gave you meant at the door to my apartment, or the main door downstairs. I like to keep that small piece of ambiguity, keeps you on your toes. A moment later you knock, I open the door and there you are. My princess, standing there again. Your beauty so mesmerising, flowing into the hallway before you. Your long dark hair cascading down over your shoulders, and blending into the long black coat you have covering you. Stepping to the side I let you in, closing the door behind you, a small welcoming kiss on your cheek. I help you out of your coat, thne follow you down the hall like a minion following his queen, completely in awe of you, loyal, and devoted. I know though, once we pass into that room, everything changes. I sense it every time. You confident stride becomes a collection of timid steps, your head no longer held high. A power shift occurs, and I love it.

"Stand there!" I say, pointing to the centre of the room. I sit down on the sofa. "Face me!". You turn, with a slight hesitation. I can tell something's not right. I know you. I know every part of you, and even in this environment I can tell something is not right. I need to know what it is, so start my probing. I don't have to probe far though, as you are far too honest, and what's wrong is simply guilt. "look at me. Have you played with yourself since you were last here?" I ask you. Your gaze wanders down, your head hangs lower. "I, said, look, at, ME!". Our eyes connect again, and I know. I know what's going through your mind as you let out a ==deflated whimper "Yes." All the time you're remembering. You're remembering our very first encounter eight weeks ago, when you gave yourself to me. You have my words running through your head, and you know what's heading your way. There's a lot of doubt and uncertainty there. Eight weeks of good behaviour. Eight weeks and you haven't done anything wrong. Eight weeks of that and you have no idea what punishment will actually be like. No idea what I will put you through. No idea what I will do to you. Even though you trust me, you are still slightly scared. Fear of the unknown.

"Eight Weeks Earlier"

"Stand there please." pointing to a spot in the middle of the room. You stand and look around the room, shuffling a little on the spot. "That's stand still. Arms by your side, and look at me." You actually comply better than I expected. In the bar I thought you might be a bit difficult, one of these girls that didn't seem to ever shut up, but after our chat about expectations from each of us, you seem to have taken what I said onboard. 
"Ok, I need to know how well you can carry out instructions. As I said, if I tell you to do something, I expect it done, and done immediately. Not questioned and thought about. Have you thought about your safe word?"

"Yes, I thought I would.."

"Stop there! That was a question that required a simple yes or no answer. I didn't ask what that word was. Understand?"


"Good, very good. Take your top off."


"I don't repeat myself. Think about what i just said.". The penny drops, and in a quite shy manner, you lift the sparkly black jumper over your head. "You can just drop it on the floor" I say to you after seeing you looking around for somewhere to put it. "So what word did you choose?"

"Peanut" you inform me.

"Why peanut?" I enquire as it seemed a little random.

"Because I hate them."

"You have an allergy?" now intrigued into this hatred.

"No, just hate them, the way the look, the way they smell, they're just so stupid." I just accept this, it's not an avenue of conversation I want to go down.

"Peanut, it is. I want you to slowly unzip your skirt, and as seductively as you can, slide it down over your hips and step out of it, kicking it out of the way." You try hard to be seductive, but you start to put on this pout that really doesn't work at all, for anything. "Stop pulling a face, relax, and be natural." I tell you.

"But I was just trying to..."

"I know, don't try, just be. Deep breath, relax, be, easy." You breathe in, and slowly let it out, like you're resetting yourself. And there it is, a look of absolute wanting. Those eyes connecting straight with mine. I can see desire. My heart sinks quickly though, as the top of the skirt passes over your hips. I see it, that hideous barrier of awfulness. A nightmare of modern textiles. The all covering, all comfortable, pair of tights.

"Take those off too!" I order, "Right now!" you look puzzled. "You take those tights off right now, and never wear them in my presence, ever again, ever! Understand?" Shocked with my sudden outburst you nod, and quickly try to remove them. Fumbling, struggling, tripping over your own feet and getting flustered. I like the sense of urgency your showing with that, it means you're paying attention and trying to please. With a sense of achievement about you, you stand in triumph having carried out my instructions as fast as you can, and without being told, you step back into your shoes. A nice touch which hadn't actually occurred to me. I look you up and down, take in the sight before me, absorbing your semi-naked beauty. The word stunning, comes to mind, but not that I would tell you that. Not yet anyway.

"Come sit." I tell you, patting my knee in a slightly chauvinistic, 1970s manner. You walk over, with a confident stride, and lower yourself sideways onto my knee. "You've done well so far, apart from the tights. I don't like them, hideous." my arms wrap around you, one resting along the length of your leg, other around your back. "I'm not too fond of the bra. The one good thing I've found about the bra, is taking it off" and with one swift, single handed move, I unclasp your bra at the back, and let it fall down your arms from you. Allowing me to see for the first time, your perfect breasts. I look at them, hungry, dying to taste them, to touch them, caress them, feel them. "Very nice." I mutter. Realising what I'm doing, I snap myself out of it, compose myself, and re-posing my face. Looking directly into your eyes, catching and holding your sight I ask you "Well so far, I'm happy. Are you certain you want to continue along this path?"

"Yes, I am."

"You realise that you will belong to me." Cupping one of your breasts I continue "These will be mine." I give it a gentle squeeze. Then move my hand down, place it over your pussy, over the small thong you have on. "This will be mine too. They will exist for my pleasure, not yours. You will only be allowed to touch them when getting dressed or getting washed. You will no longer be allowed to pleasure yourself, unless I instruct you to. If you do, you will be punished, and i suggest you do not test me on this. Do you understand?" your head and gaze drops once more, a look of almost defeat, but certain submission.

"Yes, I understand, they are all yours to do with as you please."

I grin, "Good girl. Very good girl."
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