A Weekend with 'k' Ch. 01

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Exploring her submissive fantasies.
2.4k words
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Part 1 of the 7 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 03/21/2008
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Hubee
Hubee
365 Followers

Making the arrangements had been...nerve racking. Both of us had so many reservations yet, at the same time, so many reasons to go ahead. Two years of emails and phone conversations and some chaste webcamming had lead to this -- we were finally going to meet. A stolen weekend where, unknown to her, I was going to make as many of her fantasies come true as possible.

As befitted our preferred roles I set the agenda. Separate flights to London had been booked, mine arriving before yours and a luxurious hotel room reserved. I gave you a detailed list of what to bring, what to wear on the plane. But when it came down to it I sat on my bed in that hotel room shaking with excitement and nerves, waiting for you to arrive. I hoped that this tension would not show -- how unbecoming of a Dom to show such lack of control -- the very control I was trying to impose from the start by having you come to me.

Almost exactly on time I hear the hesitant knock on my door. I am not sure I could have coped if you had been late. With a huge effort of will I stand slowly and take a deep breath to slow my hammering heart. As I take the handle and open the door, time seems to slow, all my senses seem to become sharper -- I want this first sight to stay in my memory, so I wouldn't ever forget how you look the first time we meet for real.

The first thing that hits me is that smile. It dazzles even more than it ever did on webcam. But I can see the tension in the smile, the nervousness. Your smile slipped a little, your teeth biting your lower lip as I study you; speechless.

At this moment I think about an issue we have never talked about when discussing this meeting. As much as we have talked about our fantasies, the kinky things we like to do, we have also talked about the need for warmth and humanity. Not to put too finer point on it that we both want some 'nilla' -- even (the Gods of BDSM block your ears) some cuddles. I find myself thinking about how to balance these two things as I take your wrist, almost without my own volition, and draw you into the room.

As the door clicks shut I feel my cock start to harden as I think about the fun we are going to have walking that particular tight rope.

I watch you as you stand in the middle room and can see you shaking with....what? Fear? Lust? I also see that you are about to speak so I raise a finger to me lips.

'Hush!' I tell you. 'Say nothing, do nothing, until I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?' I wait until I see a tremulous nod and suppress at shiver of excitement -- and a smile -- when you give me your first, tiny, submission; the first of many I am looking forward to.

I take your bag from your hand and drop it on the bed, then I stand and survey you, admiring the outfit you have chosen, admiring the luscious curves revealed by the tight fitting skirt and jacket. I circle behind you and see your trembling increase. I place my hands on your shoulders and grasp the jacket. Understanding what I want, in an excitingly intuitive way, you dip your shoulders so I can slip the jacket off before tossing it on the floor. I lean into you, inhaling your intoxicating scent -- a mixture of Chanel #19 and excitement.

As you feel my breath on the back of your neck I see goose bumps ripple across your shoulders. I kiss the back of your neck then gently blow onto your wet skin. I hear you make an arousing, barely human sort of mewling noise. I lean back, my senses almost too full of you. I unbutton your skirt at the back and slide down the zip. The skirt slips over your hips and drops around your ankles.

'Step out of it.' I order, trying to keep the tell-tale rasp of lust out of my voice. When you have obeyed I kick the discarded piece of clothing away and take a step back, to get a better view of your lovely arse -- the focus of many of my thoughts over the past weeks and even months.

All I want to do is grab those enticing globes, then reach between them to the centre of your womanhood. But I know that patience, that the delay, the tease; will make for heightened enjoyment for us both. I know that you must find it almost intolerable, in several senses, to have me standing behind you, watching you; not knowing what I am thinking, not knowing what I am going to do.

After a good minute I bend quietly and place a finger tip on the seam of your stocking, just above your ankle. Slowly, using the seam as a guide, I move my finger up the back of your calf. I hear you start to make a low, almost imperceptible sigh; which grows slightly higher in pitch as I move upwards. Across the back of your knee and up your thigh, I slow as I reach the stocking top; near the claps of the suspender belt. I can feel the shaking in your leg as I pass over the last of the silk and touch the bare flesh of your upper thigh. Ever more slowly you feel the touch of my finger move towards the cleft of your buttocks. Then your sigh turns into a moan of frustration as I change direction and trace the contours of one buttock, moving towards your hip before tracking sideways and lingering over the hollow at the base of your spine. I kiss you there, then lick, leaving moisture across the tiny, downy hairs. A second for the cooling feeling to make you tingle before my breath warms the same spot, producing another -- different tingle.

I straighten up, then force myself to take another teasing pause, before moving round in front of you. Your eyes are downcast and your face is flushed. You stand, shaking, as if awaiting some terrible verdict. I take your chin in my hand and raise your face until you meet my gaze.

'You are very lovely k. I am thrilled that you have offered yourself to me in this way, that I will have someone as delightful as you for my sub -- even if only for a weekend.' I see your happy response to my words and release your chin, stroking your cheek with the back of my hand.

'Now I want you to take of your blouse.' I say before turning to sit in one of the room's chairs. Causally I take up a glass from a nearby table and pour bourbon onto ice, before adding Coke as I wait for you to comply -- for all the world like someone about to watch a TV show. I see the sudden switch from tenderness to dominant control have the desired effect, putting you off balance and reinforcing in your mind the degree of control I have over you. (I doubt it would have worked so well if you knew how long I had spent nervously moving the chair -- then moving it again, and again -- until it was in just the right place - whilst excitedly imagining you standing before me.)

I wait, wordlessly for you to obey, watching you with face still downcast, not meeting my gaze. It takes so long that I begin to wonder if you are about to snatch your skirt and flee from the room. Then, with shaky hands, you begin to fumble with the buttons and I feel a little tension leave my body. Or leave some parts of my body and perhaps transfer to others. I try to show no signs of impatience as you go about undressing for me, making no offer to help. Eventually the blouse falls from your shoulders and I see a little more of the feminine glory of k. The basque is a triumph of the lingerie maker's art. But the breasts it (barely) contains are a triumph of nature. The lace trimmed cups kiss the underside of your nipples, revealing how hard they are. Your rapid breathing makes those lush hemispheres heave in their flimsy restraint. I am lost for words and take a sip of my drink to give myself a chance to regain my composure

As taken as I am with this view my eyes are drawn to the vee at the top of your thighs. I motion you forward to get a better view. Your freshly waxed pussy is revealed by the crotchless knickers I had delivered to you -- and ordered you to wear.

'That is the sexiest sight I have ever seen.' I tell you. 'Do you know why I wanted you to wear those knickers?'

I wait till I see you shake your head.

'Because you once told me that wearing knickers like that, "wasn't you". But I don't want you to be you this weekend. I want your exposed cunt to remind you every second that you are something different now, if only for short time.' I pause to let the words sink in.

'How did wearing them make you feel? I ask. 'Tell me honestly.'

It takes a second for you to find your voice, having been given permission to speak. 'They made me feel conscious of you.' you answer in a low voice, without looking at me. 'Made me aware that I was doing something special for you, which I loved.' Then you add, in a rush. 'But they also made me feel........cheap...........like a...a'

You trail away, so I finish for you. 'Made you feel like a hussy?'

I see you nod.

'But in a good way?' I quiz, with a smile

You look at me, expressionless for a second and then that smile flashes across your face before you burst into a full-throated, natural laugh. I join in and feel a strand of restricting tension fall away from between us.

As enjoyable as that release is I feel the need to pull you back to the matter at hand.

With my smile put away (for later) I order. 'Make your nipples hard k, or make them harder. Pinch them, lick them, twist them. I want to see you suffer a little now.' ('Then a lot more later.' I think to myself)

I see a little flash of fear in your eyes - and need. I watch your hands move to the glorious globes contained in your basque, then pull down the lace to fully reveal your nipples to me. I want to take them in my mouth, to suck them, to bite them, to taste you. But I restrain myself and watch. You take your nipples between thumb and forefinger and follow my orders. You gasp as you twist those hard buttons, and then pull them away from your body, stretching your tits out. Your eyes close and the tip of your tongue protrudes as you squeeze on your tender extremities, knowing want I want to see. Then you recall my instructions and cup once breast with both hands and raise it at the same time a lowering your head to suck on your own nipple.

'Bite it!' I hiss - and hear you moan as you comply.

'Stop'. I order and see you raise your head to glance at me.

'I want you to tell me k, tell me what I want to hear.' You drop your gaze from mine, your cheeks flushing pink. You know what I want to hear, emails have been exchanged detailing what I want you to say, to offer.

You take a deep breath, almost a shudder, and begin; hesitantly at first. 'I.....I....am giving myself to you.....Sir' (I shiver inwardly as I hear this delicious appellation for the first time from you.) '.......for this weekend, to do with as you will. I will do as you order......obey you in everything you ask and do my best to please you.' You release another heaving sigh.

'What do you think I want to do to you k?' I ask, barely daring to breathe.

'You want to fuck me.....Sir'. Once again you dare a glance at my face, and see me nod.

'Where and how will I fuck you k?'

Your eyes drop and you pause, caught in a strange contradiction, screwing up your courage to surrender.

'Where ever and however you want Sir' you answer, almost in a whisper.

I raise my voice slightly as if to compensate for your quietness, in order to draw out the words I want to hear.

'Tell me k!'

'You can fuck my mouth Sir' you answer in a rush, louder now. 'Then cum on my face if you wish. Or in my mouth because I want to taste you, to swallow your c....c....cum. My cunt is wet for you and I want to feel your cock in it...in my wet cunt. I will spread my legs for you when ever you feel the need to use me. I will suck and fuck you..........or anyone you give me to Sir' You pause, before continuing.

'And of course you can fuck my arse Sir. You know how long I have fantasised about feeling your hard cock in my tight arse.'

My heart is thumping with excitement and my throat feels constricted.

'And you want me to do all this to you k?'

You nod

'Why?'

Once again you raise your flushed face to mine. 'Because I want to be a slut Sir, .......your slut

I can see the desire, the lust, rising in you - signalled to me by your eyes, bright with the fire of passion, fanned by the declaration of your total submission to me.

'What do you think I want to do to you k?

I can see that you are taken off-guard by the repetition of my question. Not knowing what is expected you can only shake your head.

'You said you want to "please me". And I want to please you k. I want to make your fantasies come true.'

You stand stock still, mouth slightly open, still staring straight at me. My heart is still beating hard enough that I think you should be able to hear it.

This is so intense, so soon -- and we have only just started.

Hubee
Hubee
365 Followers
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