Meglodisiac

Chloe twisted around in front of her mirror to check the overall effect of the 6th outfit she had put on in half an hour. What would his first impression of her be? What would he expect her to wear? The instruction in his last email had been as explicit as it was ultimately vague,

"Put on the sexiest dress or skirt and top you own. Under it I expect to find stockings or hold-ups and your raunchiest bra & thong. We'll start with the best of what you've got, after that you can work on dressing for me."

Underwear had been easy enough. She'd bought some hold-ups – black, 30 denier, with a rose embroidered on her inner thigh – an extravagance but she wanted to impress "Meglodisiac" the online handle for the man she'd been corresponding with for 2 months. Along with those she wore a pair of black lace French knickers that showed her arse off, but were more flattering than a thong and a hot pink bra that was visible, along with her modest cleavage, beneath the deep V of her top. The top was black and would have looked harsh against her milk-white skin if it weren't for that sexy splash of pink. Her skirt was black too, a flippy, little thing that she'd bought on a whim, months ago and never worn. It hugged her tiny waist and kissed the tops of her buttocks, before flaring slightly over her hips. It fell only half way down her thighs, much shorter than Chloe would normally wear. The movement of it concerned her – maybe it would flip up and expose her stocking tops to the world? It definitely qualified as the sexiest thing in her wardrobe though. She completed the look with knee-high black leather boots and vampy, khol-eyed make-up with a slick of glossy fuchsia lipstick. Chloe looked at the clock – 8pm – under no circumstances could she be one minute late. She pulled a brush through thick, chestnut curls and grabbed her coat and handbag.

It had been 3 months ago Chloe had first posted her personal ad. She'd dated a number of men but none of them had called to her soul the way this one did. She'd always fantasised about a man who could really take control in the bedroom. Always been attracted to cocky, swaggering men who turned out to have nothing more feral under the surface than a desire to be cooked and cleaned for. This time Chloe had decided to try her luck at finding someone who she could live out her fantasies with. The ad had been brief and succinct, posted on a personals page for alternative tastes.

"Female sub, 26, seeks male dom for long-term, monogamous relationship. Will give myself completely to Mr Right. No timewasters."

She's received a number of replies from various men, most of whom simply got a kick out of humiliating and degrading women. Meglodisiac had been the only one to stand out. Ten years her senior and an experienced dom, the reasons for his taste in sexual activity were the same as her own. He dominated consenting women because he knew he was giving them something they had a burning need for. He understood that their submission to him gave them intense pleasure and his mastery of them was therefore an act of love. He talked explicitly about restraining her and teasing her from head to foot before bringing her to a thundering climax. He imagined holding her down and taking her with the force required to rip a really hard orgasm through her body. His understanding of the fulfilment he could give her touched Chloe deeply. She found herself confessing her darkest desires to him, exposing her soul as unashamedly as if she had stripped and spread herself at his feet. Their messaging moved away from the personals page to private email and gathered pace and intensity. Some of the thoughts he sent her shocked her deeply. All of them made her soaking wet. She trembled before her computer as he suggested tying her, whipping her, blindfolding her, throwing her down and using her to self-indulgently make himself cum, calling her names, telling her how dirty she was. Chloe never imagined being immobilised with lust, unable to move or speak for fear of giving her self away to her colleagues but she was as captive to his words as if he had gagged her and bound her to her chair. That was what he did to her. That was the force of his will. Meeting became inevitable, she had to see him. They had swapped pictures and arranged a date, time and place; everything they had said to each other was about to culminate in tonight's rendezvous. Chloe still didn't know his name. Everything was unfolding on his terms and she was content to have it so.

Just as long as she wasn't late. She had commandeered her best mate and arranged for him to drive her. Andrew had been her friend for years and was now her business partner. 6 feet tall, with a lean body and wiry, manic energy, he powered the company single-handedly and was incredibly motivational to work with. Homosexual but in a curiously masculine fashion, there was nothing remotely camp about him. He had a boyfriend eight years his junior and by all accounts was blissfully happy. Andrew was one of the most punctual people she knew but that didn't stop Chloe threatening him with fates worse than death if he turned up one minute behind schedule. He knew she was meeting someone from the internet but had no idea what kind of site they had met on or what they had discussed. It was hard to get across her sense of urgency without appearing completely insane. Chloe would never normally worry over-much about a few minutes and when the two of them went anywhere, if they were late, it was invariably her fault. Fortunately Andrew was just pulling up outside as she locked her front door. Chloe realised that she had been holding her breath.

"Bloody Hell, Cinderella, check you out." He rolled down the window as the car came to a stop beside her. She was suddenly self-conscious.

"Just because I slouch round the office in jeans, doesn't mean I've forgotten how to be a girl." She snapped. The media company she worked for had something of a relaxed dress code and Chloe had never seen the point of dressing up for a pc monitor. Smart jeans and a designer shirt and trainers said loudly to the world 'I work my way. I will not suck up to you and if you don't like it, tough luck.' It had never failed her but now Chloe realised just how out of practice she was at wearing skirts and heels. She tried and failed to get in the car gracefully.

"I'm going to take a picture for tomorrow's daily sport." Andrew announced. "They'll love you, you're not even pissed yet." He stopped teasing when he turned and saw the apprehension on her face. "Relax." He rubbed her shoulder. "This is a date. Dates are fun, remember? This guy will have to be blind and gay not to fall at your feet when you walk through the door. If he doesn't, you'll just have to apply corporate protocol number one. Altogether now..." He raised his arms as if conducting an orchestra,

"Never, ever give a fuck because there's always something better round the corner!" They chorused. She smiled at him gratefully.

"Of course he might take one look at me and be too intimidated to approach you. I couldn't blame him for that." Andrew checked his reflection in the rear-view mirror. "How old did you say he was?"

"Thirty-six. But I've never gone for younger men." Chloe checked the time on her mobile, "Can we go now I've had my pep-talk?"

"Good grief, you're not supposed to be on time! You're going to look ridiculously keen at this rate."

"Just drive the car and let me worry about that."

The bar was busy, but not over-crowded. Still feeling somewhat alien in her skirt, Chloe went and bought drinks for her and Andrew. She got a double-vodka tonic for courage and gave him his mineral water.

"There you go, now run along and play at being inconspicuous." She stretched up to kiss him on the cheek. "I do appreciate you playing chaperone you know." He took the drink and pulled his mobile phone out with his other hand.

"Buttons to Cinderella... Buttons to Cinderella... The area is secure. Repeat, the area is secure. Standing down but will remain on tactical alert. Do you read me?"

"I read you. Now bugger off. Over and out." He wandered off to sit alone. Chloe resolutely stamped on the urge to follow him and found a seat in a secluded booth from where she could watch the door without being too obvious. She checked the time again; zero minus 10mins and counting.

At exactly 8.30pm he walked through the door. She recognised him from his picture but the picture had just been a face shot. The man was over six feet tall and solidly built. His close cropped hair was Sandy coloured and beneath it a pair of pale, wolf eyes scanned the room. He saw her. Saw her staring. Waiting for him. Chloe felt completely naked, transparent. This man was privy to thoughts she'd never, ever uttered aloud and looking at him now she knew she had given him a part of her soul. In his eyes she could see a whole side of her personality that she had never been confronted with before. With absolute, helpless certainty she knew that she could conceal nothing from this man, he already knew more about her than she did herself. A point of heat started to gather between her legs, blossoming up through her belly. He walked over to where she was sitting and with sudden panic, Chloe realised that she couldn't stand up, didn't trust herself not to shake from head to foot. She was still staring, transfixed by him. With Herculean effort, she arranged her features into something approaching a welcoming smile and prepared herself to speak.

"Hello." He smiled and introduced himself. Her discomposure was obvious and he seemed amused by her vain attempt to conceal it. He waited politely for her to speak.

"Hello." She managed. Slightly more together, she raised herself off her seat, resting one hand on the table, just in case. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

"What are you drinking?" He asked.

"Vodka tonic." She replied, absently. He walked away.

What was that? What on Earth had just happened to her? Chloe's common sense came out of its corner fighting. To be this awed by the man was dangerous. She should go and find James and go home. How had he managed to walk into the room and make her dissolve into a pool of pheromone on the floor? He had such a hold over her, instantaneously. Chloe's addled brain cranked through its gears to answer her own question. She had done this to herself, given him control. She had spent weeks placing herself in his hands, never imagining that sending him her fantasies by way of exploring them would mean relinquishing all of her composure in his presence. A noise that she hadn't been listening to stopped. Bewildered, she looked at her phone and saw she had a message. She opened it.

"What R U doin sittin there open mouthed? U need 2 get out more often girl, this 1s nuthin 2 look @. U want rescuin, just shout." Andrew. Recovering somewhat, Chloe sent a reply,

"Wen I want 2 d8 androgynous teenage boys I'll come & ask u advice. U wldnt kno a man if he tripped & fell on u knob. Wen I wan2 b rescued I'll ask. Luv u x." Two drinks appeared on the table under her nose. Chloe looked up.

They chatted about everything and nothing. Work and family and everything in between, Chloe gradually began to feel at ease and relax. Meglodisiac usually answered to Sam. He was intelligent and articulate. He was also warm-hearted and seemed genuinely interested in her – not just her sexual preferences. When the conversation moved on eventually to sex it was an abrupt transition. He turned to her, without warning and looked her in the eye.

"I like what you've worn for me, what are you wearing underneath?" She told him. He spoke again. "Go to the ladies and take off your knickers. I want to see how wet they are." Chloe felt the heat rising in her face as she got up and walked to the toilets. She shut herself in a cubicle and took off the lacy black French knickers. The gusset was soaked, it shocked her how wet she was. She stared at them, her mind reeling. If she gave them to him now, it would effectively be the point of no return. They would both know she was sat there naked under her skirt. If she gave him her underwear it would mean making the decision to sleep with him. The scrap of material sat in her hand, getting heavier as she weighed up the enormous risk of going home with a man she hardly knew against the pulsing need burning between her thighs. For the first time, she was in the presence of a man who understood her needs and wanted to fulfil them. Chloe didn't think she could wait another day. It occurred to her that he was still waiting in the bar. She closed her fist around the knickers and walked back to where Sam sat. She could feel the air against her clit, just enough to tease more wetness from her as she crossed the room. She was light-headed with it all by the time she sat down beside him. Very deliberately, she opened her hand and dropped the undies into his lap. He picked them up and examined them under the table before putting them into his pocket.

"You are really turned on aren't you?" He said. Sam moved closer until their legs were touching. "I bet you're so wet now you'd let me finger you in front of everyone in the pub." His hand moved slowly up her thigh until his middle finger made contact with her pussy. He traced a line around it and she shivered involuntarily. "I Thought so." His lips were millimetres from her ear. "I think you'd better phone your friend." She nodded and waited for him to remove his hand. He didn't. "Go on." He said. His finger ran up and down her outer lips. She decided to call Andrew while she could still speak. He picked up on the first ring.

"Cinderella, I think your perimeter has been compromised. He's sitting incredibly close to you." She could hear the grin in his voice.

"Pervert." The finger under her skirt was joined by another, gently pushing her lips apart. She opened her legs slightly and tilted her pelvis towards Sam.

"So do you need rescuing? I can practice my kick-boxing on him."

"Aah." Sam had just found her clit. "No. I don't need rescuing, in fact that's why I'm phoning you." Chloe bit her lip as he teased her.

"Oh no. Not MY fag-hag. You are not going home with him. You don't know who the fuck he is."

"I know, but I'm still going home with him." She cringed, knowing he would be deeply upset. Sam took her free hand and placed it on the rock hard bulge in his trousers. She started stroking him through the cloth and he responded by pushing a finger inside her, massaging the hot, wet, centre of her need. She was red-faced with the effort of not betraying herself. "I've been talking to him for months."

"I don't care. I don't want you to do this. You'll be raped, murdered and dumped in an alley." He was half out of his seat.

"I won't. Please calm down. Do you think I haven't considered that? I've got to know this guy really well." Another finger slipped inside her and his thumb moved against her clit. She had to end this conversation, fast. "I'll text you tonight and call you in the morning ok? I'm really grateful you came with me." His fingers were scissoring inside her and his thumb pressed harder and faster. She willed him to put down the phone.

"I am not happy about this, Chloe. You be careful. Make damn sure he uses protection." He hung up and marched out of the bar without looking at them. Chloe exhaled with a sigh. Her hand moved faster on his cock as her climax built and she put her hand over her mouth as she came. Sam pushed his fingers hard into her, as far as they would go as she gripped the table top and pressed onto them. When she was calm again he pulled out of her body and used the knickers she had given him to wipe his hand. Chloe looked at her own and saw that it had teethmarks in it. She was still stroking him but he closed his hand around her own and stopped her.

"We're going to leave in a minute." Sam took hold of the back of her neck and pulled her into a deep kiss. Chloe's eyes closed as her arms went round him instinctively. She was drunk on her climax, oblivious to everyone else in the world. His free hand moved over her breasts and down to her waist. She arched her back towards him as they kissed like teenagers, completely helpless. After what seemed like years, he prised his lips away from hers. She caught her breath and slowly opened her eyes, knowing they were glazed with lust. His saliva was smeared around her mouth and her nipples were straining towards him through her clothes. He could bend her over the table right now and she wouldn't prevent him. Sam looked over the state he'd got her into almost casually.

"I am going to enjoy you." He said quietly. He stood and offered her his hand.

Chloe's mind was still reeling, was she expected to actually walk now? She took the paw that this bear of a man was holding out to her and got up. He drew her close to him and put his arm around her shoulders, supporting her while she found her feet. They walked out into the car park together and the cool night air hit her face. It forced her out of her shell-shocked bubble. She could not get into this man's car, anything could happen to her. Chloe tried to disentangle herself, to step away from Sam. Reluctantly he let her go. She lifted her chin to meet his gaze.

"I can't do this." She said, "I don't know you and I can't do this." Her eyes were wide with an equal mix of fear and hunger. She wrapped her arms protectively around herself and took another step backwards.

"I know you." He replied. "I know your thoughts." Sam raised his voice slightly, "I know you fantasise about being raped by a stranger, fucked hard from behind with your face to an alley wall." Her mouth fell open and she looked around wildly in case anyone passing had heard. That had been her most secret, shameful confession to him. "You say it. You repeat to me exactly what you wrote." Sam's face was utterly impassive.

"I dream about being forced. I have fantasies where a faceless stranger grabs me as I pass an alley and drags me down it. He throws me against the wall and puts a knife to my throat. The man rips at my clothes, telling me what a slut I am and that he knows I'm going to like it. He shoves himself into me with his hand over my mouth to keep me from screaming. I cum hard as he thrusts and swears at me. He leaves me there when he's finished, just tells me to count to twenty and walks away." Her eyes closed as she spoke, visualising the scenario. As if hypnotised, her folded arms fell gently to her sides. Sam took a step towards her and his tone was triumphant.

"You want this. You have been daydreaming and playing with yourself for years over this stuff. If you don't want me to take you home right now and give you the fucking of your life, Chloe, you will look me in the eye and say so." She was trembling now, a thin, almost indiscernible trail of fluid moving down her inner thigh to dampen the band of her hold-up stocking. She tried to meet his eyes and couldn't so she focused on his feet instead. Her mouth opened and closed but she didn't speak. He spoke again more quietly.

"I know you. Because I know you I am not going to do anything to you that you haven't already specifically asked for. Your boundaries have been dictated to me time and time again. Do you not think that if I wanted to rape and murder a girl I could do that without spending months chatting to her first? I want you. I want you because your fantasies complement mine and we are in a position to give each other exactly what they need most. Am I right, Chloe?" Her shoulders sagged as the fright and uncertainty left her.

"You are right, Sam." She looked positively relaxed.

"Wonderful. Now get in the car." The control was back in his voice again. She recognised it at once now and was happy to comply. They drove away into the night.

Sam's house was dark and quiet when they arrived. He held the door open for her before leading her through the hall and up the stairs to his bedroom. He did not switch on any lights but Chloe was no longer apprehensive. He backed her against the wall and kissed her again, pressing his body against her. She went to embrace him but he took her hands and held them above her head. His lips moved over her throat to her breasts and she strained against her pinioned wrists as she lifted her body towards him. He bit her nipples lightly through her clothes and heard her gasp at the sensation. She parted her legs and he pressed his knee into her pussy, almost lifting her from the floor. Then without warning Sam completely withdrew and went to sit on the bed. She followed but he raised a hand to stop her. He let her stand there, confused for a moment before he spoke.