Gemma Gave

Typing, "Yes Sir", she knew she has to follow up with her real name and address. Her heart thumped in her chest. Butterflies, or maybe nausea, causing the very real tremors in her stomach and chest area. How could she have got to this place. She had it all. A great home, great kids - now growing up for sure, great husband, ok financially and with time on her hands. This should be the happiest time. Yet she found that her tennis has stopped, her swimming only once a week at best, even walking the family dog was a chore. Her doctor had given her "anti-depression" pills but that had made her life less colourful, less real, not less painful.

The pain - whatever the cause - was soothed by reading and writing erotica initially. Then the chats with her "followers" even better and now it was Mark. He soothed her. He soothed her totally. To the extent that her life had been kick started again since they started chatting. Initially it was simply telling him her problems, weight, purpose, loneliness. Then she found she was being coached to knew habits - when that became the daily report she could not remember.

She knew when he started to ask about her sex life. Her masturbation. Her fantasies - he already had on the forum - but to give him real details felt wrong. She could never remember what had caused her to ask permission to masturbate. Even worse then was the regular, fully nude, pictures to control and prove how her diet and exercise regime was having an impact.

Now back under 10 stone. Now down to a size 8 maybe 10 some days. Now noticed by her family and friends as looking "totally stunning", "years younger" or the more challenging, "who is he?" from her closer friends.

It, Mark, and his role became firmly fixed when she visited the beauty parlour for permanent removal of her pubic hair. Followed by the tattoo parlour a few weeks later to have the symbol of rose (his name for her) on her inner thigh. The sex with her husband was the best it had ever been - again all at Mark's direction.

So why was she crying as she sent her home address and real name to him. He had been very clear. This was not to stay online. She was to meet him and she was to have no hiding place. He did not want her to have any more choices. It was his rules completely she was to be "let go". She wanted him in her life and putting her real name and address down meant she was willing to put at risk her own life, and even family, to have him in her life.

Watching the symbol, two ticks, light up to confirm he had read her message. She sat watching the screen wondering what the hell she was doing. As always he calmed her down.

"Good girl rose. I am very proud".

Then as she had feared the text continued with instructions that she knew would come but she had always stayed away from. She had long since told him what part of the country she lived in - and perhaps that was why he had been so interested - it was now clear he stayed only 20 miles away. He knew she had the whole day free. He knew she had done her morning swim, got washed and dressed to clothes he had approved (now a daily habit), got home, got kids and husband up and away. He demanded she serve her family even better than she had done before. Her husband would never leave house now unless he had felt her mouth around him. Her children's clothes were better ironed, shoes freshly polished, healthy breakfasts provided and kitchen cleaned. He knew all of that and he also knew that from now, 9am, until almost 7pm tonight she would be alone. The kids after school clubs also at his direction.

How could she say no now. She pleaded for him not to visit her, she would travel, but no he was adamant that the first time he used her it would be in her own home. She cried. She had been too stupid. Too lonely and now a stranger was coming to her home. He was clear he would call her when he was 5 minutes away and told her to get the dog walked.

Heading back to the house, dog walked as instructed, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Answering, the private number meaning it was probably him, her stomach tightened as she said, "Hello Sir". That was another rule which she felt was silly, and potentially hugely humiliating, whenever it was an unknown or private number she was to answer with, "Hello Sir". That had led to more than one embarrassing explanation.

It was him though and he explained that she had 5 minutes now to be back at her house. Put the blindfold on. Door unlocked, Kneel naked in the hallway. She was not going to be allowed to see him today. She would be fucked he explained but as yet his privacy was not something she had earned. How the hell had she let this happen.

The tears fell as he hung up. What caused them she was not sure. Was it relief, fear, self-disgust, shame. The tears still fell as she knelt in her hallway, dog in the garage - again as he had instructed, she knelt naked in her own hallway. Blindfolded - she had been told make it good because if he felt she could see then she was in trouble. The scarf she used almost wrapped around her whole face ensured she could not see a thing.

The tears came back anew as she heard a car door close. The loud click click of his shoes on her driveway. Her breathing getting shallower, faster, almost hyperventilating as the door opened.

The door closed. He was standing here.

"Good girl. Rose" ...