Beginningsbybarbarian queen 2©
“What are you looking for?” The question was not unexpected, yet he was not sure how to express his feelings.
“I…I’m not sure,” he replied. His broad shoulders slumped a little. Suddenly, he leaned his head back against the wall. “I’m not even sure why I’m here,” he muttered.
She studied the young man. He was easily seven feet tall, well muscled and handsome. He had long, dark auburn hair and amazing green eyes. She looked over the forms he had filled out. “You indicate here that you are thinking of marriage,” she said quietly. “Have you proposed?”
He shook his head.
“Do you love her?”
He hesitated so long, she was certain he would not answer. Then he sighed. “No,” he murmured, “not really.” Her silence encouraged him to go on. “It’s expected,” he explained, “her family, mine…” He shrugged. “I just wish…”
“What do you wish?” she asked when he did not continue.
“I just wish someone would tell me what to do.” His soft answer sounded wistful.
She set the papers on her desk. Tell me what to do. “Stand up please.” It was not a request and he found himself on his feet before he could think about it. She stood as well and began to walk around him, studying him. She noted a quiver. Physically strong, intelligent. She knew what he saw as she circled him. A mature woman, not fat, not slim. Full figured, a little gray in her hair.
“No,” she said, “I don’t think you should marry.” A tenseness went out of him. “Remove your clothes.” He looked at her in shock. Her expression said that she was serious. He slowly stripped, revealing his strong body. “Kneel.” Without thought, he dropped to his knees. She caressed his hair. “Is this what you wish?” she asked softly. “Someone to tell you what to do?”
“Yes, please,” he whispered.
“And if it involves sex?”
His eyes closed and his penis surged erect at her soft question. “Yes, please,” he whispered again. Her hand was again on his hair. He moved his head to her touch.
“Why do you come to me?” she asked quietly.
“I don’t know,” he whispered, his confusion in his soft voice.
“If you stay with me,” she said, still caressing his silky hair, “you will be required to do exactly as I tell you. No questions except for clarification. No objections. You will stay with me for one year. As my slave.” She felt him tense at the word. “In return, I will give you the control you seek. I will not abuse you, although I may…or may not…hurt you.” She saw the quiver of tension in his muscles, yet he still leaned to her caress. “There will be sex,” she murmured, “a great deal of sex.” The husky purr of her voice made his penis throb. When she stepped away from him, he felt suddenly deserted. “You may dress,” she said. “I want you to consider what I have told you very carefully. Once we begin, you may not leave until the year is completed.” She watched as he slowly dressed. “Call me in one week with your decision, please.” A request this time.
He looked down into her eyes. “Yes, Ma’am,” he said, “I will.”
She offered her hand and was pleased and surprised when he kissed it softly. She sat thinking after he left. She had not planned to take another submissive slave. There was a huge emotional investment required for both halves of the contract. Yet, she missed the strength of a male submissive. And to be honest with herself, she missed the sex. She would see.
In the meantime, he, too, had a lot to think about. Her soft voiced commands had him obeying almost before he knew what she said. Stripping had been a surprise and more so that he did it without embarrassment. He thought more about that. Nakedness was vulnerability, especially if no one else was unclothed. Yet something about her attitude was comforting. Then…a year. As a slave. With no will of his own, no action she did not direct. He remembered the caress of her hand on his hair and how…safe…that made him feel and how alone he felt when she took her hand away. How could someone he’d just met make him feel that way? He resisted the urge to call her immediately. She told him to take one week to think and consider. He had the certain feeling that if he called sooner, she might refuse him. He sighed. It was going to be a long week. And a difficult one as he began to distance himself from his current life. He knew he had already made his decision when he made arrangements to absent himself for the year she required. At the end of the week, he called her.
Her voice made him quiver. “Ma’am,” he said, “I have decided.” He took a deep breath. “If you please, I would like to…give you one year.” She was silent so long, he feared she would refuse.
“Very well,” she said finally. “Do you require time to arrange things?”
“No, Ma’am,” he replied, “I have already done so.”
A soft chuckle. “You were so certain of my acceptance?”
“No Ma’am,” he said at once, “but I wanted to be prepared.”
The soft laugh again. “You have my address,” she said. “Tomorrow morning. You need only bring your personal toiletries with you.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he said. He heard the click as she disconnected. A sudden rush on unease. What was he doing? He almost called her back to say he had changed his mind but couldn’t quite bring himself to pick up the phone again.
She hung up slowly. He seemed eager to begin. She knew he had no real idea of what he was getting into. She only hoped she could provide what he was looking for. She also knew that her form of domination did not meet he majority ideal of a Dominatrix. Many felt she was too…soft. She sighed and went to bed. She would see tomorrow.
She was sipping coffee when he was ushered into the room. “Good morning, Ma’am,” he said softly. She set the cup in its saucer.
“Good morning,” she replied. Then she stood. “Come with me, please.” She led him to her car and motioned to the passenger seat. He first opened the driver’s door for her and waited until she was settled before he got in. He placed his bag at his feet and buckled his seatbelt. She took him to another house. Small. Isolated. “We will begin here,” she said as she parked. Inside, she gestured to a bathroom. “You may put your things in there. Then please remove your clothes and bring them to me.” She watched him struggle briefly.
“Yes, Ma’am,” he then said and did as he was told. She was seated in a comfortable chair when he returned, his clothes in a neat bundle, which he offered to her.
She took them and laid them on the table beside her. “Kneel.” He went to his knees. She got up and gently put him in the position she wanted. Knees apart, back straight, hips resting on his heels, hands on his thighs. “Remember this position,” she said.
Good. He did not question or object. He watched her carefully. He’d expected leather and chains, whips and handcuffs. Her lips twitched. “Not quite what you expected?”
“Whips and chains are not my style,” she said, “but I do have restraints and they will be used.” She watched him swallow.
“Yes, Ma’am,” he said softly.
“You will keep your eyes on me at all times,” she continued, “and remain close to me.” She stood and removed her clothing. “I am a sexual dominant,” she said softly, “pleasure me.”
He began at her feet, kissing and caressing. She did not touch him or give him any clue as to what she wanted. He would learn to please her from her reactions. So far, he was doing well. He had kissed and caressed her body. Her hiss of pleasure told him he was doing what she wished. His tongue finally tasted her, then teased and probed her until he felt her quivering. His penis surged to almost painful hardness. He kept licking her, sucking her clitoris gently between his teeth. She began caressing his hair and he moaned softly as the feeling of comfort filled him. He concentrated on pleasing her. Her orgasm was sudden and intense. He kept tonguing her, driving her orgasm higher and higher until her hips bucked and she cried out. Then he eased her back from the heights, his tongue and teeth slowly bringing her back.
When he lifted his head, her eyes were shining. “Shall I show you the reward for pleasing me?” she whispered.
“Yes, please, Ma’am.”
She placed a ring around his rampant penis. “So you can last,” she murmured. Then she laid back and guided his steel hard erection to her dripping vagina. He slipped into her wet heat, moaning softly at how tight she was. Then he began moving in her, taking her until she convulsed in orgasm. Not stopping, plunging, thrusting, lost in her tight heat, wanting to climax, wanting to fill her with his fiery ejaculate. She writhed and moaned, her body convulsing, the spasms massaging his massive penis until he could stand any more.
“Please, Mistress!” he gasped, even as he thrust harder into her, “please!”
She reached between their bodies and released the ring. His penis swelled larger. He pounded harder into her, wanting release, needing release. Yet it seemed just out of reach until her hands were again in his hair. He exploded, jetting hard and deep in her as she clenched him and screamed, her body convulsing in muscle straining orgasm that wen on and on as he filled her. They finally lay tangled, breathing heavily, her hands softly caressing him.
“Mistress?” he whispered.
“May I pleasure you again, Mistress?”
She studied him, noting that he was again growing hard. She smiled. “Pleasure, me,” she whispered, “and receive your reward.”
With a contented sigh, he moved between her legs, his tongue tasting their combined fluids as he pleasured his mistress.
A year was not going to be such a long time after all.