part One :

I know your figure. I know where you live, what you do for a living, what you drive. I know what foods are your favorite, what music you listen to, and what turns you on. I know you have a dog, for I heard him barking in the background the end time we spoke on the phone. I know you 're close to your female parent, and your father passed away 6 old age ago.

We have had only 3 phone telephone call after talking almost constantly over the internet for the past times 6 month. It has given my brain time to learn the note and meter of your interpreter : A medium-deep baritone that makes me palpitate in joy every time I hear it, makes my physical structure foresee all the things we have talked about doing to each other. ( You mainly doing matter to me, since you are the more dominant one. )

You have answered every head I have asked with an even, affected role timbre ... save one : you will not recite me what you look like.
When I asked you why, you said you prefer to stick around orphic in that department..I must admit, the curiosity is driving me insane. I have never been much for the blind day of the month thing, but somehow this is different.

Despite the chilly, late-October air I am wearing an outfit I would never fag for any former social function : Black old-school combat flush, red and pitch-black striped socks that go just past my knees ; the residue of my leg are covered in Negro fishnet and disappear under my black, pleated canvas chick that has a big ol'kilt pin piercing the side. ( A nod to my Celtic language roots )
This dame is so short that if I were to bend over at all it would open the full general world a great view of what nature graced me with.

Above the chick is a black silky corset with straps, binding me and pushing up my breasts. I have just enough make up on to stress my fair-complected facial expression, scattered with freckle and make my dreary oculus stand out. My yearn, red hair is up in a loose knotted bun.

I consider myself to be a transposition. I can be dominant when the temper calls for it, especially with another female. However, I must admit I am on the slavish English when it comes to men. I love firm, prevailing men. I love it when a man blazes a look into my eyes, grabs the back of my head and owns the kiss he gives me. I want to be teased, controlled and guided into bliss ....

The prison cell phone chiming in my handbag jarful me out of my oneirism. It is you, sending me a subject matter. As contrive, I am in front end of the dance club we agreed to touch at. I have arrived early enough to make myself experience desperate, over-eager, and pathetic. I am excited and anxious, and the thump of the music from inside the club is matching beat for beat with my thudding heart. I undefendable my sound and stare at the message.

I am inside, waiting for you

My eyes surface wide in surprise. I thought you would converge me outside the club..this puts me on edge, since I do n't hump what you look like. How am I supposed to find you ? My excitation and jumpiness goes up a mountain pass, as I realize this is part of a secret plan, part of your mystique.

Well ? What are you waiting for ? Get your ass in there and find him ! Do n't be a wuss ! chides the vox in my head. I square my articulatio humeri and walk through the entrance of the club. I am immediately overwhelmed by the place. I have only been here once before, and it was a state of nature, drunken dark with some booster I only half-remember ... and I certainly do n't remember it being so gimcrack, or so dark.

A slow, thumping dubstep version of ball club column inch Nail 's `` Closer '' is echoing through the load down main room. There are couples elevated up in cages, and on the huge dancing story a compact crowd gyrates to the beat. Bright, multi-colored lights are everywhere, the DJ a distant silhouette in the vertebral column. Private board and booths ring the perimeter of the club, and a back-lit glass and marble bar dominates the diametrical side.

I look around the room. There are people of all sort, though this club favors the offbeat side of the community..I see leather and PVC of all colours. Buckles, Chain, collars and cat-o-nine tails. There 's a sprinkling of `` normal-looking '' people in here, but even they are dressed to kill.

There are several the great unwashed who could possibly be you..but looking around, I just do n't know. I decide to get a drink while I am figuring things out, so I walk up to the bar. I am eyed by several people, male person and female person, but this does n't inconvenience me. As the bartender ( a muscular, shirtless man wearing a collar ) sets my drink in strawman of me, he eyes me. `` You must be Rhea. ``

I almost inhale the alcohol I am drinking and gaze back at him. `` Who 's asking ? ``
'' You did issue forth in here to meet someone, did n't you ? ``
'' fountainhead, yeah-um '' I stammer.
'' He has been expecting you. You 're to go in common soldier way III. Do n't care, your drinks have been taken forethought of, `` he waves away my endeavour at payment.
'' Um, OK..thanks, `` I say, and make my way toward the book binding, past the comfort station and down a specify corridor.

I arrive at a red door marked, PRIVATE elbow room threesome. My eye is thundering in my chest, I am about to adjoin you face to fount. Should I knock ? Of form not, stupid, says my encephalon. He said he is waiting for you !

I take a deep breath, and open the door.

constituent Two

The room, though tastefully furnished, seems to be discharge. I look around. There are two couches, one facing the other, each with their own side table. I cross to one of these and set down my drink. There is erotic art hanging on the walls, lots of cushions on the floor, the couches..but no-one is here. I am confused. This was secret Room Three, right ? I walk back to the door, spread it and expect to confirm this was indeed the right elbow room, but before I can change by reversal back around a silky blindfold, poise to the touch is placed over my oculus. I make a surprise racket ; not a whimper, not quite a scream, but somewhere in between.
'' Shh, quiet down, '' croons a very familiar voice. It 's you, stealthy devil that you are. `` I 've got you, now, '' I can hear the smiling in your phonation. `` ejaculate with me. ``

Still breathing heavily, I can feel myself being led back into the room, guided to somewhere in the middle of it, if I have my bearings correct. Any attempt to verbalize is cut off by you shushing me. `` Now, be a good picayune sub and continue quiet. let me have a proper look at you. ``
Sub ? I think. I guess I 've been given my use in this. I sense you slowly circling me. I ca n't see your eyes, but I can finger them all over me. I feel naked and exposed, but your voice is making my red silk pantie damp. You run a finger across the dorsum of my neck, making me moan.
'' Very nice. I am impress with you, so far, '' you say. I can feel you step in front of me, the smell of you mixed with your cologne heady in my nostrils. You smell so good, and it 's making me decrepit by the 2nd. My hired man are not bound, and I want to seize you and kiss you ... but I sense that is not allowed.

You take my hands and lead me over to one position of the room. `` Put your hands down in front of you, '' your voice has changed. This is a bidding, not a request. I comply, and my digit touch material. It is the rachis of one of the lounge. `` Hmm, let me see what we have here, ''

You bend me over the put, spreading my feet apart with your own. I can feel you slither a hand up the spine of my leg, over the inside of my thigh and between my legs.
'' mortal 's rouse, '' your finger slip my now wet scanty aside, and you start rubbing my bare pussy from behind ... I start to breathe heavier and moan. It does n't pack long for your finger to get slippery, and you thrust two fingers up into me, making me puff in joy. I can feel my clit harden, my walls getting tighter. All this anticipation and pleasure is gon na take a crap me come, and I start bucking against your hand. I can feel your rim on my ear, your hardened cock pressing up against my ass. `` You like that ? ``

'' Mmmmhmm, '' is all I can say. I am about to top out in orgasm, and your hand is quickly removed, leaving me hanging and gasping.
'' Not quite yet, '' you say, but I ca n't avail it. One of my hands is sliding down my pantie to finish up what you so skillfully started ... and bound roughly behind my vertebral column with the other. `` Naughty female child, '' you chide.

The hard crack across my ass is unexpected, and I gasp in surprise. Then the sensation of stinging nuisance on my buttock, assorted with my throbbing cunt makes my brain want to explode. I have never felt this before and I absolutely love it.

'' Do it again, '' the whimper has escaped my sass before I can actualise it. `` Please, '' I beg.
The irregular crack ( on the other cheek ) makes me moan even harder.

'' number around. '' Your voice is voiceless, commanding. `` Get on your genu, ''
I am being roughly pushed down and an insistent later your intemperately cock fills my sass. You are long and girthy, and it is difficult to nurse, but relaxing the brawniness in my pharynx helps. You have one hand on the book binding of my chief, the other bobby pin my arm. You thrust in and out of my mouth, increasing the depth and the stride slowly. Just as I start feeling my jaw is going to unhinge itself, you give a long oink and your cum fill my mouth. I have no selection but to swallow, I do n't need it making a mess..and my mother did always say that spitting was unladylike.
You dispatch your still-hard cock from my sass and I can feel you smile down at me.
'' Good girl, ''