Chronicles of indianPilot Ch. 01

Feeling the warmth of the sun on my face I woke. I smiled a child like smile to the world. A world being seen for the first time. How did the same world see me? I don't know, I do know its perception of me will be totally different by tonight.

Given what was to come, I felt strangely calm as I leaned against the windowsill. The sun mirrored my mood as it dragged itself off the purple hued mountains to the East. Would that be his direction, East? Where do the international flights come from? I smiled, making a mental note. I'd have to ask him later.

Later! The word draped itself across my soul. No snatched phone calls, cyber chat, or flying three day visits. Later meant face to face, in our home...forever.

Closing my eyes, I remember the night we met... a scared little sparrow, and he the watchful giant... so much larger than life, so full of knowledge I didn't understand existed. He was friendly, and although I could not see his face, I knew he had to be handsome. Like a moth to flame I was drawn. Things stirred in me only he could see. I'd never believed in love at first sight till that night. Now I am living proof it exists. I look at the changes to come, and it is almost with shock I realize those changes began with that first meeting.

Many nights of long almost romantic chats followed. So many questions. Yet he always had the answers. I'd had a vague idea of how a Master should act, but he seemed to break the rules. He filled my head with smells of desire, the need for obedience, encouragement, and of acceptance. Never did he force me, berate me, or harass me. Those nights were filled with his masterful commands, edged with respect and understanding. Without even realizing it I opened to him like a flower onto the sun. I let him explore my darkest places, my weakness, and the things that make me vulnerable. Never did he judge, ridicule, or laugh at my lack of knowledge. Never did I feel I didn't belong.

Then one night he said the words. "We need to meet." My heart nearly stopped, my body reacted with amazing intensity.

"Yes Sir." I whispered. "When?"

"Little one that would be too easy." He laughed. He went on to give me a window of dates, be ready, you'll never know when. I nearly died at the thought, but the chance to feel whole, and complete was too much to pass up.

"I would be honored Sir." I was almost in orgasmic bliss by then.

I was beginning to worry. Five days into the two-week period I'd heard nothing. No phone-calls, emails...anything. Had something happened? Had he changed his mind? Decided I was not worth the effort after all.

Then I heard the door.

"Oh God, it was him. It had to be him.... Please be him.

He found me in the kitchen, preparing dinner for the night. His face was hard, yet even. It wasn't anger. I learned it was the look he always got at these moments. "Every scene needs be crafted, fussed over, focused like a three course meal." I soon understood exactly he meant

In silence he came to me. Just stood there, staring, looking straight into my eyes. I wanted to greet him, welcome him.... Say anything. But that look...my mouth...mind...froze. The image of the moth and the flame danced in my mind's eye.

Instinctively I lifted my hand toward him, our eyes never leaving each other. I felt comfortable warmth as his hand curved around mine. With a ghost of a smile he led me out of the kitchen. Never hesitating he took me into the bedroom, how did he know? I'd never told him the layout of the house. Again a question to ask later... as he continued on to my room. He paused at the foot of the bed. With a magician's skill, ropes appear tied to each corner of the bed. How long had he really been here? What had he seen of my life? Oh God the power of this man, where does it come from? If he'd said a word I would not have heard it. My heart was pounding in my ears; the short shallow breaths I'd been taking threatened me with hyperventilation.

He sensed the stress, the fear of the unknown. "Relax." He whispered softy, then moved to a chair in the corner. He sat, not offering another word, a finger resting on his chin, an``````````````e artist, not quiet sure where the next dab of paint was to go.

"What does he want." I searched his face for an answer. Nothing, it was typical of him. He always made me work for my knowledge. "Find it your own way." A favorite saying of his. "Then you will truly understand."

Then I realized. With a nervous half smile I reached for the first button of my blouse. The slight change in his face said, good girl, continue. The next button, he maintained the eye lock. The third brought an actual smile. The forth button completed the task. With a slight role of the shoulders I let the garment fall from me. Quickly my skirt joined it in a small pool at my feet.

Naked except for matching pink bra and thong, stockings, and my favorite 'fuck me' stilettos. Suddenly the lesson of this little pantomime flashed in my mind. He'd told me to be ready, always. He was checking, making sure I'd followed his instructions. He was strange like that; most Doms would punish me if I'd failed, not him. He has always appreciated effort, as long as he can see that I am trying, there would be only encouragement. The fact he was still sitting said he was pleased. A man of few words, he believed actions told the real story. I'd learned, he was right.

Very slowly with one finger he made a circling motion. Turn, I understood. I imagined the catwalks of Milan, slinky sluty fashion models. I began to move around, displaying his property, hopefully showing him the love and lust he generated in me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him stand.

"Come lay on the bed my slut."

"Yes Master." Had I passed his test? The answer had to be yes. He didn't look upset, angry, his face still held it's calm mask. On the bed I crawled to its exact center. I'd marked the spot days ago, should I tell him later. I'd guess he's already noticed.

My breath became ragged as I watched him take each leg and arm in turn and fasten me to the corner posts. Finished, he waited, just looking at me, at my body. Suddenly he reaches forward, skin on skin for the first time. A finger trails along my wrist to my arm, across my shoulder, back down the other side.

Oh God I want to scream, my body twitches from the sensations. My cunt explodes with lubricant. How can this man do this? Where does this power come from? With one finger he has turned me to a desperate nymphomaniac.

With a sinister chuckle he stops. My cheeks are glowing. My arse grinding into the bed. Oh fuck me fuck me, my mind screams. He bends...his breath hot on my thigh. My cunt juices more. Almost embarrassed. I can smell my sex filling the room. I feel his lips brush my burning flesh.

I pull hard on the restraints. My need building, I moan in frustration. In the past men mounted me, fucked me, either made me cum or not. This man was different; he had control, and knew how to play a woman. There was a frustration in me I'd never experienced before. For a moment I was almost panicky. Somewhere deep down I realized this was the tip of the iceberg.

His mouth moves again, further up my thigh, my groin, coming to rest on the outer edge of my cunt. With little butterfly flicks he began to tease me.

"Please Master!" It's a risk I have to take. I had to try to make him, make me cum. He stops for a second, a frown on his face. Am I in trouble? I wait...my chest hurt; I've been holding my breath.

He reads my fear. "No princess," he smiles, then plunges his tongue deep into me.

"Oh yes Master." My hips buck with a mind of their own. "Thank you." I add; suddenly worried he'd stop.

He responds by withdrawing his tongue. An eternity passes as I wait to see what will happen. The tongue plunges again. In....out...in again. I squeal into the nothingness, as he pulls back and thrashes the outer lips of my cunt. Close.... I feel myself heading for climax. I know I want it to stop. To somehow make it last...forever.

My body takes control. With animal urgency I begin humping his face. Suddenly, out of nowhere he stops.

"Fuuuuck." I scream as the sensations die, fade to nothing.

For the first time since entering the house he speaks. It is his teaching tone, a Master to his student. I hang on the words, not sure I even understand their meaning. "You may enjoy as much of this as you want, but you may NOT cum. You will NOT release unless I give you direct permission. Is that clear, my hot needy little slut?"

I quickly nod my head.

"Answer me slut! Do you understand what your Master has told you?" again his voice quiet yet oozing command and control.

Wetting my lips, searching for a voice amidst the lust. "Yes Master, your cunt understands completely that this body is yours to do with as pleases you.

"Good girl" He spoke so softly I almost missed the words.

My mind reels as he attacks my body again. My body fights for release, my mind counters with the urgency to please him. In my mind's eye I see my body a mass of fire, Master's fingers and tongue the flame adding to the need.

My hands fist the sheets, my body a writhing mass of lust. I have no more control, I am openly screaming at him. "Fuck me fuck me.

"No." He commands. "Hold my slut, don't disappoint your Master." He knows I am close. He knows what I need. He knows what's best for me. He is pushing me further than I have ever been before.

He suddenly eases away from me. I watched with wide eyes as he shifts off the bed. I see him reach under the bed and grab for something. Suddenly I hear it, a faint buzzing sound. "Oh God, how did he know? How did it get there?" He smiles as he lets me see my favorite vibrator, set on medium.

This time there is no anticipation. With a fluid motion he drives the vibrator into my cunt. My legs begin to spasm immediately. He withdraws...rubbing the slicked piece of plastic against the outer folds of my pussy. "Hold my cunt." He says without inflection. "Hold for your Master. We know you can do it. My darling little slut." There is something in the words that calm me, and hold me. Make me feel suddenly whole. I smile in my mind. Now I know I can make it.

He eases the toy back into me, pushing it to the limit. Out again...then in. He times the motion to that of a great long fuck. A fuck on the end of my Masters cock. My mind descends into the fog of a strange trance like state. "Hold." I can hear him in the background. "You can hold for me princess."

His tone changes, as my hips grind gently beneath him. We are going to play a little game. I am going to count backwards. When I reach zero you will have permission to climax as long and as often as your body needs." He pauses seeing no reaction from me. "Do you understand?

"Yes my Master." The calm in my own voice surprises me. "I do understand...totally.

Leaning over me, his tongue ravishes my swollen clit and the toy is thrust harder and deeper. "Five," I hear him say... then more licking, more fucking of his cunt... Four, and still his cunt is being driven mad with need...

Three.

Two.

One....

"Oh God please say it Master, please make this cunt do your bidding!" I didn't even realize what I was saying anymore. Master explained all this to me later. "Now just one more number. Please say the word Master. Please take me to the place you want me to be. "

Zero.

Looking back I am not sure he even got the whole word out before my body stiffened as tingly flares of my orgasm raced through the core of my being... I scream out for Master as he fucks me with the vibrator. The release is total. "Harder... please Master...fuck your nasty cunt hard." My voice is hoarse, croaky...not me. Through the blur I see my own ejaculation fountain upward, covering Master with my love juice. I see the love in my Masters eyes, the approval, the nurturing.

I'm not sure how long the orgasm lasted, or how many releases I actually had. Master stayed with me a little longer, kissing me, talking gently. Later he tucked me into bed. A small child cherished by unconditional love. With a lingering French kiss and flick of the light switch he was gone.

I set the teacup beside the beautiful Gardenias that were delivered. Their strong, heady fragrance filled the room. They were from him, with a note. "Tomorrow little one." I repeated the words in my mind. My heart skips. Soon, so soon. Heat rises from my skin. It's not arousal...it is far deeper than that.

It's time. Like some cheesy romance novel I climb to my feet. The bed; I check the chocolate colored comforter tossed with a mix of peach, pale green and golden silk pillows. Master always demanded I be a lady, be sophisticated, be the balance to the side he brings out in me. I've told him of this room, but he's never seen it since the re-decoration. Simple elegance was how I described it to him, begging that it be a surprise for him when he arrived.

The room is as perfect as I can make. Now off to go to work on myself.

Across the plush carpet into the adjoining bathroom, another lush addition to our love nest. Shedding my robe I step into the showers warm flow of water. Time stops as I stand there, water cascading over me. I imagine him with me, something simple, cleaning his teeth, talking about work, but all the same being here.

I fight the haze and begin to wash. A slight sigh crosses my lips as the understanding of what is to come sinks in further.

Apple shampoo, Master's favorite. "I've always been pleased with the affect it has on his girls hair." Then my body, wash, then shave, new razor, special scents to rub into my body. Master desires all. The look, emotion, smells. All the senses need to work in symphony; his voice is in my ear. "Soon Master...soon." I let my hands roam for a frozen moment.

My eyes shut, the hands become his. They start at my legs, then slip behind me, up and over the curve of my arse. The fingers glide forward in feather touches. First the stomach, then upward till they reach my breast. They pause to cup me, then suddenly a soft tweak of my nipples. "Thank you Master." I whisper. My world fades into total fantasy, all sounds are gone. The universe is us...him...me. He my Master...I his slut; the way things were meant to be.

Never before has someone drawn so much with so little. The barest touch and I explode in need.

With shock I realize my hands had wandered, found my secret place between my legs. With quicker motions I begin to masturbate, to tease my engorged clit. I slap my other hand against the wall of the shower, seeking something to anchor to. Something to hold me in this world. Moving in tiny circles, my fingers; his fingers, bring urgent need welling up from deep within me. No, I smile inwardly. This is not the time, or the place. A year ago I would not have cared, would have allowed my body it's pleasure. It is a mark of my inner discipline that I remove my hand and allow my need to ease. My body is his. I give it willingly. Pleasure, pain...all his to control through me. It was one of my first promises to him. Only he would ever again draw this body to a climax.

Returning to the here and now, I realize more time has passed than I had allowed. With controlled urgency I complete my shower, dry off and move to the next step. Forty minutes, I look at the clock. Hair, make-up and perfume, I laugh as it comes together. Friends would not recognize me. Even going on dates. Fifteen minutes, quick as a flash. Now...the stakes were higher. Now it really mattered.

I pout at the mirror, checking the lipstick. I see the gleam in my eyes. The innocence he said he fell in love with. Only he and I know the seductive slut simmering beneath the surface. The true submissive, complex as a cut diamond, but only able to shine for the right one.

The clothes? "Surprise me," was his only instruction. Virginal white, not in sacrifice, but a symbol of my purity in attitude and submission. A girl simple, and loving handing herself to her owner. To be cared for, cherished. It was something that drew us together. I would need to explain none of this too him. He would know. He would understand.

Thigh high stockings, sheer bra, matching thong, the items almost glowed through the suntan I had worked on hour after hour, day after day. No tan lines anywhere. My garments were perfect, I expected to make the body wearing them match. Finally, in a mark of humility, of humble honor, I chose a straight line summer dress and white pumps.

Two pearl drop earrings completed the process. For so long I had lacked confidence, thought myself fat, ugly, in essence I was fulfilling my own self-image. Then he came into my life. Showed me what I really was. Showed me strengths, weaknesses, over time I began to understand. In his eyes I was perfect, his coming to me today proved those words.

Complete, even perfect? I hope so. I did a little self-conscious twirl in front of the mirror. Yes! I studied the lines, the shape my body took inside the dress. "The total package." He would often say. Again I was beginning to understand what that meant. A light dust of powder on my throat, neck and cleavage, now I knew I was perfect, ready to receive the thing I most desired.

With a nervous shudder I realize it is time to go. Right now would be the last time I leave this house as an incomplete individual. Keys and purse, with a final quick look. A deep breath as the door closes behind me. "Well girl, this is it."

The car, a new, PT Cruiser, replacing my old worn work horse. To those around me, this was the outward sign of my new life. Classy, sassy, summing up the person I now was. I fired the motor, radio...dear God, it's playing our song. No, a girl needs to keep some secrets.

I arrive at the airport in good time. Even from the first, something both of us agreed upon was punctuality. Not for politeness, but for the respect such a habit ingrains. I go in, only just keeping my nerves in check. The flight board shows he will be on time. Soon... so soon the wait will be over. I slap a wrist to stop myself fidgeting, my face is flushing, that I can do nothing about. Suddenly the old adage of blushing bride makes so much sense. A new life, and beginning. Almost a totally new girl, all to begin in minutes.

I stroll slowly to the arrival lounge. His words in my ears, "Grace and poise, always a lady." I try so hard, but can feel my inner-self crumbling. The excitement, so far past sexual, it's coming from a place I never knew existed. Butterflies...ha. More like circling great white sharks gnaw at my stomach.

A row of seats set before a panoramic window look out over the runways. The lounge is quiet. A man, old, waits for someone, a simple carnation in his hand. On the other side a large family, Mexican...chat excitedly. With my schoolyard Spanish, I gather an older sister is coming to join the family. I smile. We are all on a mission. Completeness!

His plane arrives. I see it moving towards the receiving bay. So many times I played this moment through my mind. Would I run screaming throwing myself at him? Would I kneel, eyes down in the classic pose? Would I just simply freeze, and hope? Many times had we laughed about this on the phone, in the end his instructions were very clear. "Be yourself girl. Do what comes naturally. There will be no dishonor."

There! I see him, swaggering through the barrier. He sees me. With a slight nod he smiles, his step quickens slightly. Suddenly I understand how important this moment is for him, the excitement and the expectation. That knowledge brings a strange inner calm, a sense of completeness... understanding. What I need to do is obvious.

As he comes nearer, I stand. I clutch my purse behind me to hide the nerves, our eyes lock. Oh God the intensity. In a less public place I think I would orgasm. He is a step away. I slowly drop my eyes and wait. Nothing needs to be said. Even the others in the terminal seem silent, so focused am I, my whole world centers on this man a foot away from me.