Beware What You Wish For Ch. 01

Chapter 1

She closed her eyes and let her mind drift back to that Sunday. It had been late in the evening when she found out. Looking back, maybe her finding out was what he had always intended; maybe he couldn't bring himself to confront her with the issue head on, so left a trail; the light left on in the office, the computer not closed down, browser history not cleaned off. It was the sort of invitation that a curious and intelligent woman would find difficult to resist.

She laid back, splashed some of the bath water over her breasts and took in the smell of the scented candles. That Sunday was now six weeks ago. By the end of the week after the discovery she had checked out all the sites he had visited, made notes, followed threads, and compared experiences. Two days later she had made the decision to talk to him.

Lauren knew there would never be a right time or a right place, just the best time and the best place. It turned out to be three days later. They had eaten late, shared a bottle of wine and the mood music just seemed right. It helped that she had drunk an extra glass of wine to normal; sometimes that's all it takes. She nuzzled up real close, ran her fingers through his hair

"Steve," she said quietly stroking his arm

Maybe it was the way she said his name, but suddenly he felt tense, unsure. He looked into her eyes but they provided no clue. Her face too was a total blank

"Yes."

His voice sounded distant, detached, as if he were preparing himself emotionally.

"You remember the other night, the night when you left the computer running - - - ."

She paused, turning away to compose herself before she continued.

"Did you mean me to go to those websites?"

For a while he looked away, said nothing, before eventually turning full toward her.

"Lauren, I think we need to talk."

She looked deep into his eyes and spoke with the gentlest of voices

"Yes my love, I think maybe we do."

At first they talked around the issues, rather than about the issues. They each picked their words carefully, each probing the other; testing sensitivities; checking on boundaries. He explained how he felt, explained that he had felt that way for a long time, just kept it to himself, fantasised. He explained as best he could why he thought he felt as he did. This was the part she found most difficult to understand. She mainly listened, comparing it to what she had learned from the websites, recognising his feelings and thoughts from what she had seen. He spoke quickly as if he needed to get it all off his chest in one go, release all his pent up emotions, make her aware of his fantasises. All the while he spoke his eyes were directed at the floor; then suddenly it was over and a strange peace seemed to envelope the room.

She took hold of his hand and gently squeezed it, her voice now little more than a whisper

"I guess we all have our little quirks," she said, "we just need to work through them - - - if we can."

He nodded slowly, his eyes still downcast.

At the beginning, when she first viewed the postings on the websites, it had all seemed so bizarre, so way out, that she had wanted to pinch herself to check that everything was real. Much of it, even now, she still found strange and unreal, but also she felt a strange intrigue, a desire to explore beyond her normal boundaries; to visit and experience the unknown.

"In order for me to fully think this through, you will have to tell me truly your needs," she said, "only then can I make the decision you require. You speak of female domination and I fully understand that you are not unique in having these fantasises, but from what I have seen these seem to vary from one person to another. There is much written about feminisation, is this something that turns you on?"

"No, it is not something that interests me."

For the first time in a long while his composure seemed to be improving.

She smiled, "good, that is a relief. And what about cuckolding?"

"That is more difficult."

"I see, but is it something, were I to be interested, that you would consider."

"Consider - - - yes, possibly, although it would be difficult."

"Difficult, but if it was my wish, you would consider it?"

"If it was your wish then I could not deny you your pleasure?"

"So, should I wish to pleasure myself with another man's cock, you would not deny me that pleasure."

"Your pleasure is all that matters."

"Really - - - wow."

A wicked smile crossed her face.

"Of course everything is about control and domination, how would you see that working out on a practical day to day level?"

"That's a difficult one. I think emotionally I will always want you to dominate me." He paused. "I guess what I am trying to say, is that sometimes, in fact much of the time, it will be kind of passive; just an awareness between the two of us without any physical expression."

"And what about the other times?"

"I think they would be more overt."

"How do you mean?"

"To me it is all about you expressing yourself; your dominance, your control."

She remembered the regalia; the rituals; the strict obedience required that she had read about

"You mean by me requiring you to kneel before me, address me as mistress, that sort of thing?"

"Yes."

"And that is important to you?"

For the first time in a long while, he looked directly into her eyes and held her gaze.

"Yes, without signals we cannot move from the passive stage to the overt stage and it is the thought of the physical expression of your domination that turns me on."

She nodded slowly, then rose from her seat beside him on the floor and walked across to the window. She stood quite still, looking through the fading light into the distance; across the fields and beyond them to the small copse at the top of the lane. He looked intently at her as she turned back toward him, then her heard her voice.

"I now understand what female domination means generally and to you in particular. Now I need to think things through, make sure of my own feelings, then I will let you know my decision. Give me just a few days."

He nodded, his journey had started, and his heart was already racing.

She sat on the edge of the bath, trimming, neatening everything up, first with scissors, then a small ladies razor, then a trimmer with a grade one blade. That was how she liked it; just a narrow strip, no more than half an inch wide and not more than an overnight shadow of growth. Almost like it was something you saw rather than felt.

She had run various scenarios through her mind many times before she made the decision, yet even she could not be sure exactly why she came to the decision she did. But there were two thoughts in particular that excited her and that, try as she might ,she could not get out of her mind; how far could she persuade him to go and how far would she be prepared to push her own boundaries.

She would never have believed the expression of delight that crossed his face when she told him the news, when she said, "Alright, let's give it a try, but nothing too radical, let's start slowly, say four weeks then reflect."

They agreed that they would address each other as mistress and slave, although she giggled at the thought of saying the latter. Then she laid down her demands for their relationship during the four week period:

-He could only cum if and when she agreed.

-He could not touch her without her consent.

-He would not see her naked, or have "normal" sex with her, before the end of the four week period.

-He would learn from her words, manner and clothing, and without express instruction, the start and end of overt periods of domination.

-And above all, she demanded his understanding, that giving her pleasure was his only reason for being.

That was how it all started and today was the last of day of the twenty eight day trial period

She stood in front of the long mirror on the bathroom wall; checked herself out, liked what she saw. Thirty five two weeks ago, but hardly a line to be seen; five foot eight and one hundred and thirty pounds; tightly packaged; honed to perfection by hours in the gym. She lifted her arms; no slack; ran her hands around her tight butt; across her tight stomach; down her muscled thighs. Everything checked out. The half an hour she had told him was now working towards an hour. She could picture him sitting, waiting, pensive, uncertain of what to expect. She took down the small hanger from the back of the bathroom door, soon she would be ready, but, as she told herself, there was no reason to rush.

By the time he heard her feet coming toward him, a sweat had formed on his brow and his heart was racing, his breathing irregular. As soon as he saw her his cock stirred, then became semi erect as if it was saluting her entry into the room.

She smiled broadly. "What a wonderful welcome. I can see that not letting you relieve yourself over these last few weeks has meant that your cock has become much more attentive when I enter the room- - - I must remember to keep it that way, assuming of course that you want to continue with our arrangement- - - but then I suspect that you do, even though you don't know the new rules that I have in mind."

Again his cock twitched as if it took in the news

Again she smiled, even broader than before. "Goodness me" she said, "your cock seems to be looking forward already - - - maybe I should look at the rules again, perhaps tighten them a little. What do you think?"

"Whatever pleases my Mistress?"

"Well said slave."

He had expected her to be fully clothed, instead she wore just the briefest of black thongs, but in his totally naked state, even that small amount of material was enough to convey her total dominance and to ensure that he knelt quietly at her feet. Her virtually naked body was mere inches away from him, but he could only look and lust, draw in the scent of the perfume on her body and feel powerless as he was almost overcome by an overwhelming desire to possess her, to ram his cock deep into her pussy, screw her until she begged him to stop. He felt her move imperceptibly closer, felt his cock harden, saw her smile; a small alluring smile that said you bought this all on yourself, now, can you deal with it.

She slipped into the chair beside which he knelt, his hands clasped behind him as she had instructed.

"Get up slave and stand here in front of me." Suddenly her voice and manner had changed, the earlier light humour replaced by an iciness that sent a cold shiver down his spine.

He stood up and turned round so that now he faced her, his hands still clasped behind his back.

"Have you cum slave?"

He shook his head.

She gesticulated angrily with her finger. "Answer my question; don't just shake your head."

"Sorry mistress. No mistress."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes mistress"

She leaned forward, placed her hand under his balls and then raised them slightly as if she were weighing them.

"They certainly seem full and heavy. Indeed as they should be after four weeks. Have you touched your cock slave?"

"Occasionally I have mistress."

"She smiled. "I admire your honesty slave, but touching yourself is of no concern to me. Surely it must be like itching a rash; in the short term it provides a measure of relief whilst in the longer term it serves only to build up your desire to ejaculate, increase all your frustrations. Do you regret it almost as soon as you have touched it slave? "

"Yes mistress."

She looked at me for what seemed like an eternity but was probably no more than sixty seconds

"Slave I imagine you find it extraordinarily difficult not being allowed to cum, am I right?"

"Yes mistress"

"Are any times more difficult than others?"

"Obviously the longer it is without relief, the more difficult it becomes."

"Otherwise?"

"As you know, when you stroke it mistress, then it becomes very difficult."

She smiled and leaned forward, wrapped her small hand around his cock and gave it three or four long slow strokes until it was rock hard.

She played with like it was a toy to be used for her amusement. She could feel it pulsing between her fingers as alternatively she played with the head and the shaft.

"Slave, I have this idea for testing your reflexes. I want to take you to the edge and keep you there, test your reflexes. But on no account must you cum, do you understand?"

He nodded

For the next twenty minutes she took him up to the top of hill, kept him there as long as she could and then brought him down, before she took him all the way back up again so to speak. From time to time she had to let go of his cock as it twitched and one spasm quickly followed another, before entering a zone of its own. She heard him groan and twist as he focused on controlling his out of control cock and fought to stave off the ejaculation that was a hand stroke away. During these occasions she watched his cock, as if mesmerised by its wild and chaotic movements. Then she would giggle as it subsided and she could see that no accident had taken place, that he had obeyed her and had not cum. Finally as she tired and the novelty faded, she dropped his cock and leaned back in his chair; smiled as she watched it go limp and lifeless

"Goodness that was fun slave; we must do that more often. Kept you on your toes didn't it?" she smirked. "Now today is the end of our trial arrangement, the future is now up to you. You can stop now and everything will revert back to how it was before. If you choose that course then that will be it, there will never again be the chance to play out your fantasises. But if you choose to continue then we have some interesting decisions to make, the choice is yours."

She put her head on one side waiting for his reply. He knew that the choice was loaded; on the one hand the certain ending of his fantasises, on the other, a vague and unchartered future under her new and undeclared rules - - - but they both knew which he would choose

To be continued