Fulfilling my Fantasy Ch. 01

When I was 12 or 13, I was the perfect example of a pampered, girly-girl in San Francisco. I wore only dresses and would never go out without combing my hair. Never would I get dirty or soil my clothing. I loved playing dolls and serving play tea to my friends. Never would my parents allow me to participate in physical sports.

It was during a trip to visit my mother's parents and family back in Kansas that things began to change. There were children from many branches of our family, most living in rural and country environments. The boys my age were riding their own horses and even shooting guns! We could not have been any more different if I had stepped on another planet.

After lunch one day there were at least 20 adults and that many children ages from 5 to 15 and the lids were told to go out "and play". I was 13 and preferred to remain in the house, but the adults ran out all of the kids. Yes, I was the only girl to wear a dress. Everyone else was in jeans or shorts. We all went out in the back field and the boys of various ages started teasing "the City Girl" which of course was me.

Two had a lasso and were chasing me like I was a calf to be roped. They could run a lot faster than me and it only took them a few minutes to have a rope around me. Several boys pulled me to a large willow tree and tied me, standing up, to the tree. They put a smaller rope around my wrists and ran it over a tall limb. The bigger rope tied my body and legs to the main tree and I was hanging by my stretched arms above my head.

Everyone was laughing except me; even the girls thought it was funny. I struggled to get free and felt so helpless I cried and begged to be set free. One of the boys took out a couple handkerchiefs and put one over my eyes blindfolding me. The other was put across my mouth, effectively gagging me.

They never did anything to hurt me, but the emotional feeling I was having was something I had never experienced. I felt so helpless and fantasized I was a slave being taken to be sold. I had fantasized fear that I would be abused or harmed. For the first time I felt moisture running down my inner thighs and my small, beginning to develop breasts became firm with erect nipples. It was later that I understood what had happened to me. I had become sexually aroused.

A few years later while wandering through an old book store I encountered "The Story of O". The titled caught my eye and as I read the first chapter I became aroused and immediately purchased it. I took the public bus home reading the covered book and thought of myself as "O" and felt an orgasm building within me right there in the public. As soon as I got home I closed myself in my room and read the entire book while masturbating again and again. It was then that I first began to understand my craving to be a sub and my need for a strong Master to train and control me.

Throughout my high school I never met anyone that I could relate to, being afraid to expose myself and my deeply hidden dark desires. At least once a week I would find a private place and take at least an hour reading BDSM literature, physically satisfying myself with masturbation. It was not until my first year in college when I was just celebrating my 19th birthday at my best friend Sharon's house, when I met a man that found the right buttons to press for me. It was a Friday night and I did not know half of those attending Sharon's party.

Most of the young men were shy and hesitant to talk to me or to ask me to dance. After meeting a few of these timid guys, I went to the bar and had Sharon fix me a "special". I took it to the corner and sat down, sipping it slowly. When I was about finished I already had a strong buzz on from the strong drink. That was when a tall man approached me, stuck out his hand and said, "Dance with me." He was six feet tall and approximately 190 pounds. The first thing I noticed was his piercing, dark eyes. I would estimate he was ten years older than my 19. There was no shyness or even courtesy, he was ordering me to dance with him.

He said nothing as he pulled me tightly against his body. In our silence, he held me against him and stroked my back and slid his hands down onto my butt. I started to pull away when he said, "Hold me bitch. Don't pull away!" I was shocked to be talked to in this manner, however, it lit fires within me, reminding me of the many sub/Dom stories I had read and the hundreds of fantasies I had climaxed too while reading. I put my hands around his neck and moved my now fully developed breasts against his chest.

We danced to several slow songs with him caressing me and yet saying nothing. As the music stopped he dropped his hands to his sides and took a short stop back, still without speaking. I began shaking as his gaze focused directly upon my breasts. He spoke softly asking, "Are these real?" I nodded yes and with both hands he firmly grasped both of my tits. I couldn't raise my hands and just allowed his public abuse of my body. He momentarily caressed them both and said, "Nice." I could feel my nipples rising and becoming visible through my thin bra and silk blouse.

Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a business card. He informed me that his private number was on the back and I was to call him at exactly 10 AM tomorrow (Saturday) and that I was to keep my schedule free for tomorrow evening. The stranger never introduced himself or asked me anything. I was TOLD what to do. He then abruptly turned and walked away. I was stunned. Yet, I was standing by myself, my nipples poking out for everyone to see and I could feel a slow syrupy wetness flowing down my inner thighs. I can't ever remember be so sexually aroused.

I could not sleep that night, considering tossing out the card, or dreaming about this mystery man. I was up showered and dressed by 8 and sat watching the clock until it finally was ten. I had the phone in my hand and dialed the number expecting a long wait. It was answered on the first ring. His deep, rich voice said, "You are right on time. Good. Did you sleep well?"

I responded, "No, I kept thinking about you and about today."

"I like your direct, honest response. I want you to have dinner with me this evening." He informed me. I will pick you up at 8pm and we will be dining at Michaels; they have the nicest Italian in town. An evening gown would be appropriate. He closed by saying, "My name is William Shumway. You should call me Mr. Shumway. Sharon told me your name was Barbara so I will call you that or whatever will be appropriate at the time. I do require you to be on time." Then he hung up.

I took most of the afternoon preparing for my dinner with Mr. Shumway. I began with a hot shower, doing my hair and carefully putting on just the right amount of makeup. It took two hours to select the right clothing. My lightly padded bra which lifted and pressed me into some nice cleavage would be appropriate as I had decided to wear a light blue, semi-formal knee length gown that had a deeply scooped neckline. Rather than pantyhose, I wore a garter belt and thigh-high nylons. Finishing off would be my newest, strappy 4" heels, which perfectly match my dress.

Normally, I eat dinner about 6, so I was getting hungry as 8 approached. Remembering Mr. Shumways comment about being on time, I was at the door before the doorbell rang. Opening it I was impressed at the appearance of Mr. Shumway. He was attired in a very expensive dark grey Burberry suit with a beautiful silk tie. He stood in the doorway, carefully examining me. "Turn around," were his first words. I rotated and he said, "Excellent...let's go."

He opened the car door for me and quickly drove off. Michaels had a valet service and they let me out as Mr. Shumway walked around and took me by the arm into the waiting area. The Lady at the counter greeted us by saying, "Welcome back Mr. Shumway. Your usual table is ready for you." He thanked her and asked for a bottle of Chateau Margaux 1995. By the time we were seated, it was being poured into our glasses.

Our menus were handed to us but Mr. Shumway thanked them but said he would order for the both of us after we relaxed and enjoyed a glass of wine. I was overwhelmed. Mr. Shumway fit perfectly in this high class lifestyle. The staff could not do enough for us, from ice water to fresh linen napkins. He still had not said anything to me or expressed any concern about my taste in foods. Looking at me, he finally said, "Sit next to me." I slid over until our thighs touched. He held up his wine glass and I raised mine to tap them together. We both smiled.

Mr. Shumway had his wine glass refilled once and told me I was to drink the same amount. As we finished, he waved for the server and informed her that we will began with an Orzo Salad followed by Neapolitan Calamari and shrimp on angel hair pasta. He ordered another bottle of wine to be delivered with the dinner.

Throughout dinner, Mr. Shumway asked me many questions about myself. Most were general, and some were very personal. He was judging me based on my answers as well as how open and honest I would respond. I started to ask him a few questions, but was strictly informed he would tell me what he wanted me to know about himself.

The dinner was wonderful and I wondered what would be on his menu for desert...me? I was surprised when he said that he had learned enough about me for this evening. He was going to return me to my house and was not planning on continuing our evening together.

As he walked me to my door, Mr. Shumway said he had enjoyed the evening and that he had decided that we would meet again at noon the next day, Sunday. I was told to be at the Hotel Marque at exactly noon. There would be a key waiting for me at the front desk and that I could plan on returning home no later than 5 pm. With that instruction, he turned and walked away, without so much as a kiss. This had obviously been an interview and not a date.

Chapter two will begin the training by the Master