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the
internet.  If Saturday night was not enough for you, be at my house at 7:15 P.M. tonight.  Bring with you,
written on a piece of paper, one fantasy you wish to indulge.  Door will be unlocked. 
Let yourself in, put your written fantasy on the table by the door, undress and
assume position #1.  Your complete submission is required, and your safe word
for the night is:  Jello.
    -G
    Subconsciously I’ve already got my left hand in my panties,
pressing hard against my clit as I read his note.  Then panic washed across me
as I realize it’s almost 5:30.  I have very little time.
    I probably broke every speed limit getting home, and quickly
I showered and put on a simple sundress and sandals.  I realize I was not going
to need anything else, and I pull up a Google search for bdsm position #1,
learning to kneel.  Studying it quickly, I pull a piece of paper and scribble
my favorite fantasy:  sucking cock.
     
    *-*-*-*-*
     
    Pulling my sorry excuse for a car into his driveway I see
his lights are already on.  I check my phone for the time:  7:26 P.M.  I breathe a small sigh of relief that I made it in
time, but I’ll patiently wait until one minute is left before I approach his
door.  Lesson learned.
    At exactly 7:30 P.M. I push down on the door handle and enter the foyer.  Placing my fantasy
on the table, I drop my clutch on the floor and slip off my sandals, pulling
the sundress over my head and kneel on the floor.  I’m careful to place the
tops of my feet on the floor, and rest my weight on my calves as I spread my
knees a little wider than shoulder width.  I then place both hands, palms up,
on my thighs and stare at the floor in front of me.  As I understand it, this
is the appropriate position for a submission to assume for her master.
    It’s probably been more than
ten minutes before I sense him approach me.  I dare not look at him, and
eagerly await his instruction.  He’s once again barefooted in jeans, a look
that quite frankly he rocks, and he grabs my fantasy and walks into the front
room without a word.  Another two or three minutes pass before he returns for
me.
    “Good evening, Elizabeth.”
    “Master,” I reply, paying
careful attention to the information I gathered from the internet.
    “I see you’ve been doing your
internet reading.  Interesting fantasy you have, my dear.  Perhaps tonight you
will earn the right to fulfill it.”
    His words leave me wondering
what he has in store for me, but quite frankly I think I’d do anything for him
at this point.
    “Hands out in front of you,”
he says calmly.
    Without hesitation I lift my
arms, still staring steadfastly at the floor.  I feel the tightness of nylon
rope as he binds my wrists together.  It happens so quickly my suspicion is
confirmed on the spot:  Experience.  I feel the comfort and snugness of the
nylon rope against my skin, tight enough to restrict my movements but loose
enough not to cut off any circulation.  Once he finished, he grabbed my wrists
and helped me to my feet.  With his arm around me he escorts me into the room.
    “You need to understand a few
things.  While in my company and the confines of intimacy, you will be referred
to by what you are, not your name.”
    “And that is what, Sir?”
    “Slut, whore, whatever I feel
the moment deserves.”  He looks at me through the corner of his eye.  “And your
mission here is my pleasure, and that is all you need be concerned with when
you are with me.  Your pleasure will be provided as I see fit.  Do you
understand?”
    “Yes, Master.”
    “You realize I may subject
you to situations that can be at times, uncomfortable.  While in my care you
are my property, and you will comply with any and all instructions.  Is that
clear?”
    “Yes, Master.”
    “Fine.  Let’s begin.  “Tonight,
my submissive pet, we will determine exactly what you want to get out of this. 
Stand with your feet shoulder width apart, arms above your head.”
    I comply,