This story was split into 2 parts. Jump to any of the segments from here:
1|2
Note: This story was originally submitted as one long story
and it was only broken into 2 parts for faster page loading.

It has taken you some real planning finagling to be here, but it is what you wanted, no, what we both desired. Our relationship had to go to the next step. I sit there, just watching, suddenly shy, frozen in the driver's seat of my car watching you in the rear view mirror. A part of me wants jump out and wave, bouncing up and down like a schoolgirl; yet I sit frozen. You have the make and color of my car and even the license number, so you will find me, I hope. Fate has brought us to this point; fate will bring you to my car, if it is to happen. My heart is bounding, my hands have become unusually clammy, slippery on the wheel. As if in slow motion, I pull the visor down and for the umpteenth time in the fifteen minutes I have been waiting here, I recheck my make-up. I adjust the vanity mirror a little and I watch your face light up as you recognize my car and purposely stride towards me. 'Why am I so nervous and you are so calm. This is my fate; it is what I want.'

*****

I have come here today to meet a man I have never met before and yet I feel I have known forever. It is strange to say that someone you have never met and in fact have no idea what he looks like can have carnal knowledge of you, but that is the case. He knows me in ways that no other partner has ever known me. He discovered my latent need for submissiveness, a need so while hidden I did not even know it was there until he unlocked it. He freed me from my hell, a hell of dissatisfaction with my sexual life. I was always left wanting, unfilled.

We met on an innocuous chat site; mind you it was an adult only site but the anonymity that came with the Internet let me explore my needs in the dark of the night. One night, shortly after I discovered the chat line he, Master D came and chatted with me; he asked if I would like to role-play. I said "Why yes, that sounds like fun." To myself I said, 'After all I can always disconnect and be gone.' I felt safe behind the anonymity or should I say the supposed anonymity.

In private, he asked what I liked and feeling brave I said "Your choice." He laid out a scene that started out leaving no doubt about the fact that he was in charge. I hesitated, should I follow, could I go there, 'Why not, it is only make believe!' I followed. By the end of the scene some two hours later, I realized what had been missing in my sexual life. I still didn't have a label for it. But sitting in front of a computer screen in the darkness of my room, I had had a number of memorable orgasms. Me, the frigid queen, had cum and cum and relished in everything he did, I could feel his touch, touching me in ways that I would have laughed at before. Who would have imagined that I would allow, let alone like someone restraining me and taking a whip to me? I certainly couldn't imagine myself allowing anyone to insert a huge dilido in pussy? I didn't even own one. I had never even thought of my orifice as my pussy or cunt; when I did label it to myself it was my vagina. The first time he called it, a cunt, I was stunned, I hesitated, then shrugged and said to myself 'in for a penny in for a pound, it is only a game, a strange game like an interactive book, 'try it, you'll like it'

Afterward, as we came back to just chatting, he asked, "So how long have he been submissive?"

"Who me? Submissive, I think not, this was only a story, make believe."

His answer took me by surprise "No, I know you are submissive, no one could do those things, play a role like you did unless you really were submissive. You see the average person would have run from my dominance. You are left sitting there at your keyboard starring at the screen wondering how you can get more. How can I feel this for real, aren't you, Misty? If you are truthful with yourself, you know I am right. Don't answer me, go away and think about. Stay away if you can. But when you are ready, I will be here. Good night, Misty." And he was gone. 'No such Nick.'

I went to bed that night and could think of nothing else, except the place this stranger had taken me to, a place, certainly only in my mind. But the response from my body had been explosive. Even lying in bed I could feel the restraints he had imposed on me. They were still on me, as I climaxed again in the moments before sleep overtook my conscious mind. My dreams were filled with dilidos and whips, my groans of pain and subsequent moans as the pain turned to pleasure. I awoke refreshed and rested, but excited.

Even before cleaning my teeth I went back to my computer to the chat line to see if he had been real. He was waiting for me that Sunday morning, I had no more than signed on than I saw his name. I watched for a few minutes wondering if he would call for me. He didn't. Finally with shaking fingers, I typed his name, I reviewed it before pushing Enter and realized that my fingers cannot type when they are shaking. I laughed to myself at the 'nsdtrt F'. What would he have thought if I had pushed the key? What are those typos telling me? Maybe I should go away. I did.

I left and went and showered and cleaned my teeth, but still drying myself I am back, my hair still wet and just a robe thrown over my damp body. I reconnect. He is still there. He doesn't acknowledge my presence. I watch fascinated with the dialogues on the screen. They are pulling me in. He is there in the public room but not contributing, or was he in private already maybe he will not notice me anyway. This time I watch my fingers on the keys as I punch in 'Hi Master D', taking a big breath and holding it, I push Enter. Instantly it is there for everyone to see that I, Misty, am saying hello to a Master. Do other people know the significance of the nick or are they as naïve as I was just last night? Too late to worry, it is out there irretrievable. I sit holding my breath. Am I afraid he will acknowledge me or not acknowledge me?

"Hello Misty, come private." Pops up on the screen. Publicly he is telling the world, this chat world, that he wants me. If they know his nick, they know what is about to happen to me. As if in a whisper, I key "ok" and hit Enter and double click his name. He is there waiting for me. He quickly lays out for me what he expects of me if I am to play with him. How I will address him? How I will come to him? He tells me that I will be his and his alone. He calls me his slave, his slut that shocks me but strangely it excites me. He tells me that I will be his pleasure slave and he bets that I cannot get enough of his special love. He will not play with me until I go away and think about, though I beg. Master D reminds me that he is Dom and he will play when he wants, he tells me to come back in an hour. I say "ok" and he fires back

"OK, what bitch?" I sit starring at the screen perplexed. What does he mean? What does he want me to say? "You will always address me as Master D and not say just OK. You will say OK, Master or OK, Sir." I don't answer and he says, "Answer properly or leave for ever, you slut."

"Oh, OK Master D, please don't send me away, please." I am stunned at the terror I feel that he may send me away or not answer me. Strange!

Six months later, I am so linked with my Master and want him so badly that I have agreed to meet him in person, today.

*****

Again my movements seem in slow motion, labored, as I lean over, and push open the door. Your face breaks into the biggest smile as you lean your tall frame down and look in at me for the first time. I open my mouth to speak, but the volume control must be broken, for I just whisper, "Welcome, Master D." and even at that the 'D' is said almost breathlessly. 'What is wrong with you girl, get a grip.' I scold myself. 'This is what you want, now show him you are glad to see him.' I smile, eyes not quite meeting yours and finally in a somewhat normal voice get out a "Hi." You are busying yourself, getting your backpack off and digging your sunglasses out of its front pouch. You still haven't said a word.

"Open the trunk." You quietly order. It wasn't just a statement nor was there any please attached to it; you were setting the stage; taking the lead. You sound exactly like what you did on the telephone. I feel my face flush, I have never done anything like this before and now the moment of truth is here. Your voice over the phone has taken me to places I never imagined myself going, let alone enjoying, enjoying no needing what you do to me; it has brought us here, today. I reach up, take my keys and push the trunk button; the release sounds so loud. My body is amplifying every sensation. You step back and toss your backpack in from the side in on top of mine and your big hand pushes the lid shut. With a quick side step, you are back at the door sliding in, the speed with which you do it leaves me wondering if you did it because you think I may just have put the car in gear and driven away. 'Yes on one level that is exactly what I wanted to do, but I don't.

Sliding in your shoulder brushes my bare shoulder, your heat almost burns my skin; but it is what I need and with a sigh, I relax. My fate is happening you are here. You lean over and give me a chaste kiss. As you do, your left hand takes possession of my bare leg just below my shorts. You sit back in the seat, doing up your seatbelt not releasing my leg. "Open your legs wider, wider." As if in a trance, the same trance I go into whenever I have chatted or talked with since we first met, I open my legs. "Good, let's go, I have to catch my flight back here at 9:00 PM.

Speak up Misty, if you want me to stop this at any point even now but unless you say the word until the moment I step out of this car tonight you are mine, understand. Remember the word you have chosen is Navajo." You watch me, judging my reaction. I only nod, just once and turn the key. You pull your hand off my leg; it feels cold now, I am bereft.

The drive out to the old farm is via a major highway for the first half hour. We talk inanely about your flight, the weather, my car, and the traffic avoiding any more personal or serious subjects. Even though, you are being the perfect gentleman, I can still feel where your hand was on my leg. All the way, I can feel you assessing my attributes. I can feel your eyes scanning me up and down, taking into account everything, judging it against your memory bank of our conversations. I am in a constant state of blush and I don't blush. We pull off the highway onto the country roads, you reach over and just for a moment touch my bare leg then it is gone and you are back to being the gentleman, polite, and solicitous. My leg burns from your touch; I feel my body responding to your touch. My labia open like the wings of a butterfly. I must really concentrate on my driving. Maybe I shouldn't have told you that we are nearly there. "Here we are", I say as we crest the hill, I flip on the right hand signal light and slow; remembering that the lane was rough the last time I was here I slow to almost a stop before I ease off the road. Still the front-end crunches all the way down on the shocks 'Ouch'.

You chuckle "Women drivers."

"I was raised here on this farm. The bush is back there, a forest of mainly deciduous trees that is about likely about 20 acres. It was been burnt out about half century ago, so there is only a few of the old growth trees, still scarred; however there is lots of newer growth. It has really grown back. When I was a kid it used to be pastured with yearling cattle, so the undergrowth was kept to a minimum. The farm is gone now; soon it will be turned into yet another subdivision. It was a great place for a girl to go to loose herself." It just bubbles out of me."

I look over at he, seeking your approval. "This is my most special and private place. The best place I could think of to start our real relationship. I so want you to come and take this walk with me." It is a glorious summer afternoon. We drive back through the fields on the rough rutted farm lane parking under the canopy of the large hickory tree. Getting out of the car, we each walk back towards the truck of the car, suddenly silent. We smile over the roof at each other. Our arms ache to have our first real hug; our mouths hunger for the first taste of each other. The peck on the check at the airport doesn't count nor does your touches during our drive here. As if a matched pair as we clear the car our hands reach out to each other, we cannot wait another second to be in each other's arms. You are stronger and you stop as soon as our fingers touch and you wench me in with your fingers and arms until I am standing nose to chest with you. A shiver runs through me as your arms encircle me. 'Oh how I have dreamt of and ached for just this single moment, a moment that can never happen again, but will be replayed in my head forever. It is happening. I lift my head, our eyes meet and hold; our world captured in that gaze. As your head lowers and I tip mine back to meet your lips, we watch the other's reaction. Will it be as good for the other, as we know it will be for us? The touch... 'Oh, the touch', as if electrocuted I arc into you, my arms come up under yours, encircling your broad back, not quite touching, my fingers wide spread trying to touch all of you. Your lips gentle now, growing with urgency, with need, 'yes, yes, you are everything I knew you would be'. I moan softly and relax in your arms as your tongue explores my lips, tracing their opening, pushing into my teeth, 'ah oh yes' and my lips and teeth open to meet their master. You open me wider with your tongue or did I open wide to you. I relish in your exploration of my mouth. Your hands, big hands, strong hands, grab my short clad ass and squeeze and lift; lift me up into you, my pubic mount touches your growing cock. 'Heaven!' My tongue enters your mouth for the first time, your teeth, the roof of your mouth, the backs of your teeth; your supple tongue dances with mine. We stand locked in each other at the mouth and the pubis. Time stands still, in the warm sun, birds and crickets our orchestra. 'Will it be right here you take me? No, no, this is too ordinary!' I scream in my head.

I guess you feel the tension in me for you let me down patting my ass; you pull away. You reach into the trunk and get my backpack and help me into the harness. Then you heft yours out and put it on. Laughingly we help each other adjust the backpack straps. I want to know what you have in yours. Babbling I tell you everything that is in mine, "I brought a white wine in an insulated cooler, 2 glasses, a variety of breads and cheeses and fruits and." I end up laughing at the explosion of words that spill out of me. "What is in yours, Master D?" You stubbornly refrain from disclosing what you are carrying beyond the obvious, a thick blue and green plaid blanket that is peeking out. You lean close and give me a quick peck on the cheek and a tight hug. It is kind of awkward with our big pack-backs. You take my hand.

We walk hand in hand through the tall tangle of mixed grasses, timothy and Lucerne predominately that fight for growing rights with the rampant weeds, chicory, burdock, golden rod and ragweed. This used to be a well-maintained farm lane, though only a mud track the cows kept it well trimmed. It was the cow paddies you needed to watch out for, ugh. I tell he about the trees, each one of a childhood friend; about gathering the hickory nuts to make fudge; the big oak tree that from the top you can see all the way to town, gathering the acorns for our pet squirrel and craft making. I stop for a moment, under my oak looking up into its canopy lost, yearning to recapture the past, to climb, climb up higher and higher, leaving the problems of the world behind. As if you know I need this moment, you stand back and watch me transform back into the little farm girl. My feet never leave the ground but the weight of the world has lessened when my gaze comes back to you. I reach out for your hand and smile, relaxed, totally relaxed and one with you and nature. You lean close and whisper, "You are mine." And we walk on.

There is my perch; my reading and dreaming rock, a large rock about seat height, two feet by three feet and reasonably flat, it must weigh tons. It sits beside a big post that used to make a stable backrest, but now when jump on it and lean back against it, it is wobbly, in fact it feels like it will give way. You reach out and grab my hand steadying me. "I used to escape to my rock with my books and my dreams, to sit in the afternoon sun when the farm work allowed it". It is certainly big enough for the two of us to rest on it in the sun. Our packs dropped on our respective sides and as one we turn towards each other, hungry for each other's kiss, to taste each other. Yet our kiss starts out gentle, tentative, lovingly. We hold the back of our partner's head as if we are afraid that the other may bolt or is it that we want the other even closer. Our lips exploring, the sexual tension building between us as it does our mouths open and your tongue does an exploratory search into my mouth, into my recess. Your hands go to my shoulders and you push down. I am not sure what you want. You are pushing me off the rock. You have my mouth captured as I slide to the ground at your feet. Your tongue dances with mine, then moves on to circle my mouth, taking ownership of mouth. You form suction with your lips and suck my tongue deep into your mouth, not that I am an unwilling participant. I return the favor, hungry for your taste, the feel of your mouth. Our hunger feeds our hands and they rove all over the other's bodies, touching, exploring, and seeking out those erroneous zones. We both stop and look at each other, laughing knowing that if we don't move we won't move and that we need to cool down.

"You belong at my feet, Misty." I have learned a valuable lesson I am to be at your feet not beside you. I blush; the realization that this is no longer play hits me, this is real and you expect me to be the same as I am in cyber.

You stand and lift me off the ground giving me a lingering hug. You reach down and heft my backpack put it on my back, turn me around and do it up for me across my chest and hips. I am anxious, no need to show you the rest of my private place. "Here is where my hole in the fence into the bush used to be, now the whole fence is gone, guess it has been a few years, huh." We walk unimpeded into the bush.

"It is now much denser than it was when I was a kid." The farm lane through the woods now has trees thirty feet high creating a leaf canopy. It is almost too thick to walk through here easily, we must step over, duck down under and stop and untangle ourselves from the blackberry briars that are everywhere. Every time one of us stumbles, the other reaches out; at the touch we cannot resist the temptation to kiss, to hold, and to explore the other. You possess my breasts at each stop, feeling, pinching and twisting first one then the other. It makes for a slow journey, but time has lost all meaning. There is only you and I and nature at her finest on this bright summer day.

"Ah there, Master D, listen you can hear my creek, listen to it." It sounds just like it always used, it is like an old friend babbling to me the sound of the water over the rocks. I guess if the whole thing was larger these would be called rapids, but here it is just a babbling brook. I look up into your eyes, so proud of my creek. "I hope you will like it here as much as I do. Even though it was been some time since I last was back here; it is the place that I use to center myself when in the real world gets too much. "Take a deep breath, smell the air, so clean, so fresh." You can smell the damp ground, last year's fallen leaves as they turn to humus and this year's new life. "Oh Master D, please like it." You smile, breathing deep, gasping in fake distress. You hold me tight to your chest chuckling, and you bring your mouth down to mine cruelly, stop inches from my mouth and only give me a feather kiss that makes my mouth ache. No not just my mouth, my whole body aches. I reach up behind your head and take your big head and pull you towards me, we smile just before our lips touch opening in unison. A moan escapes me, one of pure joy. You respond in kind with your own moan, a hungry moan. Your two big hands take my ass and pull it in and up into you, so my pelvic bone grinds against your hard cock. We stand locked together; if not for the tree behind me, we would tumble to the ground as we loss our balance. Instead you have me pinned, just where you want me, unable to move.

(next)

This story was split into 2 parts. Jump to any of the segments from here:
1|2
Note: This story was originally submitted as one long story
and it was only broken into 2 parts for faster page loading.

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