Archive for the ‘meeting’ Category
Continued from here: First Meeting
“I was scared to death to be suddenly naked in your apartment, yes, scared to be starting, scared that you are so pretty, scared that I might fail you or not be what you want. And I will be scared again and again probably Ma’am when I am with you.”
I have him stand in the centre of the room, hands clasped behind his head. I walk around him touching him a little, I take my time. He starts to breath heavily, he is so nervous. ‘I’m scared’, he whispers to me.
I kick his legs apart, touch his skin under his shirt, his stomach, around his waistband, his chest, my face close to his, rubbing against his cheek, no kissing, I want him to reach for me. I touch his nipples, stroke them gently, ‘You want me to hurt them, don’t you?’. He nods, shy, ‘Yes Ma’am’.
I start to undo his shirt buttons, very slow, I’m in his face, studying his mouth, his eyes. ‘I’m so scared’, he repeats, his breath catching. My mouth close to his, I breath into him, he reaches for me, I pull back at first, watch his mouth. I feel the lurch rise from deep in my stomach, the hunger, I lean into him, I kiss him gently, just touching my lips to his, rubbing against them, licking softly at his mouth, nudging at him, tasting him for the first time, exploratory, delicious. I part my lips against him, he opens his mouth and lets me in. He tastes sweet.
I remove his shirt and the t-shirt under that, undo his belt, he is uncomfortable, shifting positions, I can feel his cock (my cock) hard against me when I press against him. He is tense, his breathing ragged and heavy. ‘You are going to wash me’, I tell him, thinking it will allay his fear a little. ‘Yes Ma’am’, he whispers, but his apprehension is still palpable.
I kiss him more deeply, he opens his mouth to me, then I am wanting more and violent, and hotly, pulling his head to me and I grab his hands at the back of his head, my other hand at his throat, and I pull him to me, biting and sucking at his mouth, his head in the crook of my neck so he is bent over and below me, awkward, hot, hungry for him. He moans into my mouth, beautiful and desperate. The sound makes me squeeze at his throat, hearing him choke, my mouth over his, my cheek against his nose, stopping him breathing, grabbing at the flesh of his back, digging my fingernails into him. I am violent against him, I feel him giving in, melting into me, and he makes these beautiful sounds in response and they resonate straight to my cunt.
I finally release him, we are both breathing heavily, I walk around with my hands on him, touching his skin, soft, smooth, unmarked. ‘Take off your pants and boxers’, I tell him. I hear him start to comply before I leave the room.
.
He spotted her first and caught her eye, nodding recognition. She smiled wearily, made her way to him, she looked up at him for the first time, ‘Hello’, she smiled as she leaned into him. He smiled shyly back at her, greeting her, offering to take the trolley.
He had warned her before meeting that he didn’t think he would be able to look at her directly, he was right, he couldn’t. He was nervous, scared, had had trouble getting to the meeting point, had been terrified he would be late, was carrying the fear with him. He cast sidelong glances at her while she looked directly into his face, trying to read him.
She talked to him as they walked, he made her laugh, she asked him questions, practical matters, about subways and airports and transport in general, and he said it, unprompted, in response to a question, ‘Yes Ma’am’… taking her by surprise… then he murmered softly ‘That was easy…’.
She looked at him, ‘Was it?’.
He smiled shyly and met her gaze, ‘Yes Ma’am, it was’.
It wasn’t until they were on the subway that she touched him deliberately, her hand going to the back of his neck, squeezing gently, massaging his skin, she heard his breathing deepen, he leaned forward to give her better access to him, and he stayed in that position, head bowed, stop after stop as she stroked his neck, petted his hair. She heard him make a soft sound as he sank into her touch and she knew he was going to be just about perfect.
Continued here: First Meeting Part II
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She hungers.
Misdirected hunger, unfocussed hunger, a Domme-frenzy that is eating her up even as she hungers.
She trawls the grubby website for boys, boys that she doesn’t have to woo, boys that will come to her and offer themselves without reservation, boys that will let her do what she wants immediately, now, on first meet, without fear.
She views them, their lists of interests, looking for one who is local, one who likes pain, one who is tall and lean and slutty, one who will get naked and let himself be beaten, one who still seems interesting enough to give her something back.
She broadens her search, younger now, the younger ones she normally wouldn’t consider, the ones with whom she would have no conversation, she doesn’t want conversation, she doesn’t want to get to know them, she doesn’t want to woo, she is wooless.
He messages her, this one she viewed; they do that sometimes, these viewed submissive boys. This one, who she has already dismissed as too young, too service orientated. He offers, in that slutty way some boys do. He offers himself to be of service to her, a stranger, a ‘Domme’, that is enough.
She tells him, ‘Just a beating, that’s all I want, you are not a beatee’.
‘Oh, I am, I can be’, he offers himself.
She scoffs, he continues to offer, and she discovers that he is articulate and aware, and still he offers, and she stops scoffing.
‘Come’, she says, ‘then meet me, let’s see if you can be beaten’.
And he steps up and they meet, and she likes him, all tall and lean and young and good looking and smarter than she thought and half-nervous and sweet. She watches his mouth as he talks, his eyes, his mouth, his eyes, and he is bold and he holds her gaze and she likes that, and it makes something inside her shift, and she gives him a half smile and he smiles back and in it she sees a recognition pass between them.
He makes positive noises, says the right things, yet still he holds onto reluctance, he says yes, then maybe, then yes, then maybe, he doesn’t know.
‘I’ll give you a week’, she says, ‘to come up from a maybe to a yes, to come up with a yes please’.
‘Ok’, he agrees.
And she says goodbye with a hand on his neck to pull him to her, stepping into him to give him a kiss on the cheek, and he tilts his head down to her, compliant, she wipes his cheek of non-existent lipstick to see what it feels like to touch him. She enjoys how that feels and she would like to hurt him, to make him hard, to watch him struggle, to see his pretty face change. She turns and leaves.
They keep in touch and he assures her he is in, for two days he is in, and on the third, fourth and fifth days he is silent and on the sixth day he says ‘no’ with a lot of words.
Disappointment.
And she hungers, she trawls the grubby website for boys…
.
They had been in touch online and by phone already, he was funny, smart, he fitted. She liked his openness despite it not being his nature, his hints of shyness, his obvious desire to submit to her, his sense of humour, even his inexperience had appeal. In the last week before meeting, he seemed to be having doubts. She sensed his skittishness, like a racehorse baulking at the gate. She was travelling specifically to meet him and made compromises, unlike her, to reassure him and to ensure that the meeting happened. She felt disadvantaged, vulnerable, but she did it anyway, hoping she would not regret it.
She arrived before the meeting and checked into the hotel. When she got to the room, she prepared, just in case. She anchored the perfect lengths of rope to the corners of the bed, and within convenient reach placed heavy leather wrist cuffs, velcro ankle cuffs, clips, a blindfold and a ruler. She placed soap and moisturiser in the bathroom and put some towels on the tiled floor where she planned to have him kneel. The preparations excited her… thinking about how she was going to use him with each piece made her head spin.
She slipped into her g-string and bra, jeans, black belt, black fitted t-shirt and drew on her knee high stiletto ‘fuck me’ boots enjoying the extra inches it added to her considerable height, putting her at 6’2. She wasn’t nervous to be meeting him, but she was anxious about her own reaction, fearing she would want it too much, want him too much, or alternatively fearing she would feel nothing at all.
She waited in the bar, she was a little early. He walked in shortly afterwards, finding her quickly. She smiled and stood, greeting him with an outstretched hand, leaning in for a kiss on the cheek. He sat, far from her, and said he had had to run to make it on time. She smiled and looked at her watch… he was 2 minutes early. She examined his face as he caught his breath, leaning back, his legs outstretched. He looked better than his photo, and he was clean shaven for her as it was her preference. At 6’ and lean, he was just her type. His hair was dark brown, his eyes also dark, edged with a crinkling that hinted at a sense of mischief.
They talked about nothing much, chit chat, feeling each other out. He had a lovely mouth, full lips, great teeth… and she watched it as they talked, assessing how much she wanted it. The only hints at why they were there were vague references to things they had discussed online, and she made him show her how he checked what colour boxers he had on, a ritual she had imposed remotely. She watched as he pulled his shirt up, sucked in his abs, and pulled the waist of his jeans away from his body to look down. “Show me” she said, and he leaned over, pulling his charcoal boxers up a little so that she could see. She smiled and nodded, feeling a pull in her stomach.
After about an hour of talking, and quite a bit of laughter, she asked him ‘What do you think?’.
He nodded, “I think it’s going well, good rapport… what do you think?”.
She nodded, agreeing. They were getting on well and she felt the hunger, soft and low, humming.
The conversation slowed as she started to consider if she wanted to play with him. By this time, the bar had started to fill, and he had had to move closer to her, he was within her reach now.
She leaned forward and beckoned him to come to her. He brought his face closer to hers and her hand snaked around his neck, caressing him, her fingers finding purchase in his hair, her fist closing. She saw him wince as she pulled his hair into her grip and tightened her hold. She moved his head from left to right, he looked down and closed his eyes, a soft “ow” leaving his mouth, the sound resonating in her. She smiled and pulled his face to hers, stroking his cheek with her cheek, breathing into his ear.
She released him and put her hand on his leg, her fingers sliding into the creases of his jeans behind his knee. He looked down at her hand on him.
“You have nice hands”, he commented, oddly.
She smiled, he was nervous.
She leaned forward in her seat, looking intently at him, silent, her mind working overtime, weighing up the pros and cons of playing with him, staring at his mouth, imagining taking it with her mouth, considering him without speaking. The heavy silence and the staring made him increasingly uncomfortable, and he squirmed under her gaze, not knowing where to look as the moments stretched. She seemed unconcerned about his obvious discomfort, in fact she enjoyed it, it fed her hunger. She played the scene out in her head and tried to assess how it made her feel, still looking intently at his face, her heartbeat quickening as she made a decision.
Finally, she beckoned him and he brought his face to hers. She held him there with a hand behind his neck. She rubbed her cheek against his, she hesitated, then put her mouth to his ear and whispered, “Do you want to come upstairs and take some clothes off for me?”. She felt him tense, but his response was immediate, she heard “Yes Ma’am” uttered quietly, deliberately, clearly into her ear. She felt her pussy twitch… it was the first time he had called her “Ma’am” to her face.
“Are you sure?”, she whispered.
“Yes Ma’am”, he repeated and her heart melted just a little.
She nodded, stood up and gestured for him to follow. She stalked ahead, and held her hand out behind her. She felt him slip his hand into hers, warm and compliant, and her stomach lurched with lust as she closed her fingers around his, leading him towards the foyer. She didn’t look back but pictured him obediently following as she headed for the lifts.
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Whispered in my ear
Tom Allen on Check my workouts!
And here's another one: http://www.myfitnesspal.com/ Phone apps, plus fairly standard calorie tracking tools. Forums, friends list, etc. It's mainly a diet/ weight loss...Ferns on Check my workouts!
Thanks for that, Harlequin. I did look up a bunch of sites (including that one) before I decided on Jefit,...Ferns on Domme: Online training
Ugh, shame that the change in routine interrupted your plans. I know what you mean. Congrats on the new job,...Harlequin on Check my workouts!
You should check out http://www.fitocracy.com It's a site for tracking your exercise and earning points and levelling up. It's a really...Tom "Work It" Allen on Domme: Online training
Actually, if you allow youself one (!) tiny little ice cream sandwich after a workout, it's good recovery fuel.