Slightly different style to my others, constructive and positive comments as always are always welcome.
What do you do when your mates move away, your career isn’t what you expected and your love life has remained theoretical? If you’re hoping I have a sensible answer, sorry to disappoint. Tried the ‘get a new job approach’, even the ‘meet new people’ solution. Neither one went well leaving me to put up a reddit post summing up my situation.
“26 year old male sub currently living in the UK. Am 5’4, if you’re not into short guys, I am not for you. I am happy to relocate to anywhere in Europe, I have a degree but my mind isn’t in a place where I am able to function well. Looking for a Mistress to own me completely. I can cook, clean and listen. I will need training on how to submit and please but am willing and desperate. If you’re interested in having a slave you can control and mould, I am all yours.”
Given how well my previous attempts at getting out of my rut went, I didn’t expect a single response. Fortunately, less than an hour later a woman reached out and we started messaging. She has some experience as a dom but was interested in a long term FLR and loved the idea of shaping a slave into her perfect sub. Over the next week we went from messaging, to talking on the phone to sharing sfw photos of ourselves. I was waiting for the blackmail message every time I took a step further into submission.
What I never expected was an invite to visit her for a weekend to see if we were a good fit. My first reaction was excitement and I quickly agreed. Only after thinking about it for a few minutes did I consider the possibility of being kidnapped, blackmailed or simply ignored when I get there. But is it really kidnapping if you go willingly? Only one way to find out. I let one of my old friends know where the house I am going to is, just in case and I have also booked a room at a hostel in the same city as her just in case she comes to her senses and realises she can do better than me.
Despite my spiralling imagination of every way this could go wrong, I fly out, travel through the city and climb the steps to her door. I stand, petrified and unable to do anything other than stare at the blue door in front of me. She lives in the top floor flat of a beautiful old building, the buzzer for her flat is just to my left yet I don’t move. If all goes well, I will be a slave by the end of the weekend. If it goes badly, I will be a different kind of slave. And even in between those two options, the possibility of rejection is yet another terrifying thought sending my mind spiralling.
I almost let out a squeal of surprise when the door opens and a large old lady almost walks straight into me. She says something in the local language in an aggressive tone.
“Uh sorry.” I mumble, wishing the shrub I am pushing myself into to get out of her way would swallow me whole but I force my eyes up from my feet to meet her stare.
“Can I help you?” She asks, still speaking aggressively, her glare making me assume she thinks I’m trying to sneak in or something.
“Sorry, I am here to visit Clare. She lives on the top floor.” I tell her, still mumbling.
“Ah yes. She’s a smart young woman isn’t she. You a colleague?” The woman nods, her glare easing just slightly.
“A friend.” I reply, still struggling to hold the gaze of the woman looking down at me.
Despite her age, I think she could probably beat me to a pulp given she has several inches on me and is at least twice my weight. I have muscle definition, but it is because I play sport and am very slim rather than because I go to the gym or have significant amounts of muscle. Her eyes finally leave mine as she shuts the door to the building and presses the buzzer for Clare’s flat for me.
“Nice to meet you.” She smiles, but her face is far from friendly as she walks past me.
“You too.” I breathe, that was not the calming distraction I needed.
“Hello?” A gentle and friendly female voice asks through the speaker.
“Uh, hi. It’s Joey.” I respond, my voice shaking.
“Hey, doors open. See you in a sec.” She cheerfully replies, the door clicking as she speaks.
I quickly open the door before it relocks and make my way up the stairs mentally kicking myself for being such a useless wimp. It’s three flights of stairs up to her floor, despite having only a rucksack I am breathing heavily by the time I arrive on her floor and come face to face with one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.
Her green eyes lock onto mine as she smiles down at me as I climb the final few stairs. Not that she isn’t looking down at me once I reach the landing given she is at least four inches taller than me. She has a cute and surprisingly innocent face that makes it even harder to catch my breath thanks to the stunning smile plastered across it. She has breasts that are more than a handful each pointing towards me covered only by a purple lace shelf bra. She has a bit of weight on istanbul travesti her hips which flare out giving her a pear-shaped figure. I can’t help but look forward to her turning around so I get to see the stunning ass of hers I’ve only been allowed to see clothed photos of so far. As they were mouth watering, I can barely wait to see what it looks like covered only by the matching purple high-cut panties.
“Like what you see?” She asks me after giving me a minute to admire her.
“God yes.” I admit, still unsure why she is even considering taking me as a slave when she could so easily have someone far more attractive.
“Well, I think it is only fair then that I get to see what I am working with. Don’t you?” She asks me, putting a hand on her hip and raising an eyebrow.
I glance towards her door which is open, but she is standing between me and it. Looking back at her, her expression is one of impatience. I drop my bag to the floor in defeat and start undressing. I take my time folding each item neatly, both to hid my nerves and to give my painfully hard erection a chance to calm down. Despite trying not to focus on the lace-clad goddess in front of me, my cock is still pushing against my jeans when their the last item I have to remove. Sighing, I accept that the tent in my boxers is inevitable and I pull my jeans down, fold them and add them to my pile of clothes.
“Don’t you dare! You are mine. I will look after you. All you have to think about is what I want, nothing more.” She tells me in a completely calm voice, somehow making it all the more intimidating.
I take a big breath, removing my hands from the pile of clothes I was about to pick up and stand back up. I force myself to stand, keeping my hands to my side as I rise knowing that anything else will get me in trouble. With my eyes down, I cannot help but notice the obvious tent in my boxers. Unable to look at it any longer, I lift my head up only to lock eyes with Clare’s. Damn they’re beautiful. And they are looking right through me, watching the waves of embarrassment as they crash around inside my skull.
“I will unpack your stuff and sort out some food. You are sweaty, go shower.” She orders me, pulling a towel off of the bannister I hadn’t even noticed before. “Shower is the door on the right. And if you even think of having a wank, you will be looking for a new place to stay this weekend.”
I take the towel and lead the way into the flat. I glance back hoping to catch a glimpse of her behind but she is smarter than me and is still watching me with a knowing smile. I turn back and continue into her flat. It is a beautiful apartment, on the right is a small kitchen area with a table that could squeeze four people. Opposite is the sofa and armchair looking towards a TV. Crossing the open plan living space I reach a little square “Corridor” with three doors. I open the right hand door and go into a modern but simple shower room and toilet.
I go to the loo and notice that on the top shelf of the shower are a load of toiletries, the bottom one though has some more interesting items. The most obvious are two dildos and one of those wand vibrators. There is a blue dildo that looks about the 6′, similar length to mine but actually slightly thinner. The second is certainly bigger in both regards, at least 8′ and wide enough that I cannot fit my hand around it. There is also a weird balloon type thing and then a blue box. My curiosity gets the best of me and I pull out the blue box and have a look inside. There is a slightly smaller dildo than the other two, but like the others it too has a suction cup at the base. There is also a silicone butt plug and a balloon thing almost identical to the other one on the shelf. I put the blue box back on the shelf and have a shower.
“Feeling slightly cleaner?” Clare smiles at me as I walk back into the living room, the towel wrapped around my waist.
“Yes thank you. Which room is my stuff in?” I answer, painfully aware I’m soon going to be making a tent in the towel.
“What was our agreement?” She asks me, one eyebrow raised as she hands me a glass of water.
“No nudity or sexual acts in the first 24 hours.” I repeat word for word the first rule we had come up with for this weekend as I take the glass and gulp half of it down straight away.
“And the other two rules?” She presses before returning her attention to the food on the bar.
“The safeword to slow down is coconut, and to stop is pineapple. I can only use coconut once a week and pineapple three times.” I state the first one, pausing when I forget the first of the two safe words earning me a stern look.
“As your slave, I must either wear a collar, a plug or a cage at all times except when in the shower.” I continue, realising as I speak that she wants to claim me before I can put clothes on.
“Good boy. I know you aren’t a fan of the cage so I guess its plug or collar. Did you clean your ass out just now?” She smiles istanbul travestileri at me innocently, a complete contrast to the topic of conversation and her outfit, or lack thereof.
“No I didn’t.” I admit.
“You haven’t done anal play, so I guess you haven’t used a douche before?” She continues.
“No.”
“I guess that rules out a plug then. We’ll have to have a little lesson tomorrow evening, should be fun.” She shrugs, her casualness at my ignorance making me feel slightly less useless. “Now kneel.” She continues, her voice suddenly stern.
I drop to my knees and lower my gaze immediately. To my surprise, she doesn’t move from where she is and I can still hear her chopping something up.
“No, you were right before. When standing, unless told otherwise you may make eye contact. The opposite is true when kneeling. Eyes to the floor or straight ahead. I will let you decide, at least for now.” She instructs me when my eyes shift up wondering what she is doing.
I wait, eyes on the floor for several minutes as she continues to prepare some food. I hear her put something in the oven and get excited as she walks in front of me. I force myself to remain still and regret choosing to look at the floor as she spins a chair around from the table and sits down in front of me, her feet crossed leaving the higher one less than a foot from my face. I can’t help but smile, noticing her nails match her underwear. I never really considered myself a foot kind of guy, but looking at hers I realise I wouldn’t be opposed to kissing, licking or even sucking her feet and toes. They are smooth and clean, but mostly they are a reminder that the woman in front of me is both physically and emotionally above me. Her foot bounces gently as she moves, I think taking a drink off of the counter. A theory that is confirmed when I hear her taking a sip.
“Ahh,” She sighs. “I warned you I’d make you regret that first rule. How many spanks did we agree on if you are the one to break it?”
“Twenty.” I mumble, already starting to think it might be worth it. If she is the one to break it, then I have the right to either take the punishment for her or call an end to our weekend and she will be required to pay for my accommodation.”
“And you don’t think planting a kiss on my big toe is worth the pain?” She quizzes, barely holding back a giggle.
“I don’t know.” I admit.
“Well I guess the reason you’re here is that you don’t know a lot. So that’s not really a surprise.” She comments.
“Now, I have two collars here. One is a smart leather one and the other is a slip chain collar with a heart and a lock. Pick the first and you are to only wear underwear while we’re in the apartment but will go commando at dinner later. Or you can pick the second option and wear whatever you want, however the chain must remain outside of your clothes at all times so that I can take a hold of it whenever I want to.” She tells me.
“The leather one please.” I decide, not wanting to risk being led into a restaurant on a lead.
“The more boring choice, but at least I get to admire that bulge of yours.” She taunts me.
With my head still facing her feet, she leans forwards and buckles the leather collar around my neck. I only get a quick glance as it passes in front of my face. It is a similar dark purple to her lace with a gold d ring in the front with a circular gold loop hanging from it.
“We don’t need to leave for another hour or so. Go put your underwear on and then we’ll have a chat and a glass of wine. Bedroom is to the left and my office is through the middle door.” She orders.
I look up at her as I stand, my mind still unable to comprehend what she sees in me. Not that I am going to voice those concerns in case she hasn’t realised it. I force myself to turn around and walk away before I get in trouble for staring. In the bedroom there is a large double bed, a mixture of what look like personal photos and wildlife ones and two posters. One is of a rock band that I don’t recognise and the other is of a female couple dancing. I can’t work out if it is because she is into the dance pair or because the image is sexy in an elegant sort of way. The bed is the only part of the room that hasn’t got the memo that it is an adult’s bedroom. The bedding on its own with its floral print might be alright as it adds a bit of colour to the room, but the plushies make it more like the bed of a young girl not a woman.
As I smile at the thought of her talking with her cute toys as she had told me she often does. My smile drops though when I notice a bit of shiny purple silk on the bed. Picking it up I realise it’s the boxers she wants me to wear. Looking around the room again I realise I cannot see any of my stuff. My only options are to remain in the towel, put my sweaty pair on again or accept we’re having a purple day today. Putting them on I realise immediately why she picked these out. They are loose and silky resulting in my Travesti istanbul cock’s bulge being obvious and there being no chance of hiding the inevitable tent that will occur when I walk out of the room. Even now as I brace myself to open the door, I feel it stirring.
“Lovely, I must say that having a 6 inch cock on a 5 foot man does make it look bigger.” She laughs as I walk out the room, her eyes focused only on my waist.
I stand in front of her not sure what else to do as she continues just to look at it. Unable to stop my body’s reaction, I go bright red as it rises to attention as she watches. As much as I love admiring the rest of her body, her smile is all I am able to notice. She is grinning like an idiot as she looks at my now erect cock.
“Cute little show. You may sit down now.” She says, finally looking up to my face.
I walk around the table as she spins her chair back around. We each have a plate of veg and croquettes (my favourite food) and a glass of wine. She is already half way through her large glass and smiles more calmly at me as we clink glasses. Taking a swig of the wine I almost spit it out when I realise it is blackberry squash rather than red wine.
“You act like a child, you will be treated like one.” She shrugs, putting her glass down and digging into the food.
Unable to formulate a reply, I too start eating. My body quickly remembers that I haven’t eaten since early this morning and I devour my plate and force myself to drink the squash.
“How was your journey?” Clare asks after a couple minutes of quiet eating.
“It was alright, just long.” I admit. “What have you been up to today?”
“I did some shopping in preparation for your visit this morning and then spent the afternoon making the croquettes.”
“You made them? They’re amazing.” I replied, shocked as I had attempted them once and it had gone awfully.
“I told you I can cook. And you told me you like them. Not sure why you should be so surprised, or not thanking me.” She scolds me.
“I’m sorry. Thank you very much for making them. They are delicious.” I reply, only managing to hold her gaze until I finish speaking.
“I am glad you enjoy them.”
We eat the rest of our meal in silence. My face is burning red once again. I think I might just look permanently sunburned around this woman. I used to be considered quick-witted and sarcastic around my old mates, yet here I am being left speechless time and again. I feel completely powerless and incompetent yet it only seems to be turning me on and making me want to please her more. Is this simply self destruction or is this what a dom-sub relationship is meant to be?
I tidy away the dishes whilst she gets ready. Unsurprisingly, she returns in a purple dress a few moments later and tells me my outfit is on her bed. I quickly finish wiping the table down before going and seeing what she has picked out for me. I sigh in relief that it is all my own clothing. I take off the underwear and put on the jeans which are far from comfortable but at least it is subtle. She has also laid out one of my casual shirts which will at least partly hide my purple collar.
Once dressed, I walk back out and Clare is standing waiting in her dress. With her attention on her phone, I take the opportunity to let my eyes roam her body once more. Her dress is more elegant-sexy rather than slutty, only showing a hint of her cleavage. The dress is a dark purple down to the purple leather and gold buckled belt around her waist. Below the belt that will insure everyone can work out that we’re together, the dress fades to white. This gives her a sort of princess sort of look rather than a dirty-minded doma.
“Quit drooling and put your shoes on.” Clare chuckles, her attention not leaving her phone.
I quickly move to the door and put on my shoes she has left to the side. Besides mine are a pair of white heels with silver decoration around the back and a silver buckle.
“Freeze.” Clare orders just as I finish tying my second lace.
I obey and soon find a white nylon clad foot on my knee.
“Pass me my shoe. And no touching remember.” She smiles down at me, clearly enjoying the fact she has found yet another way to punish me for coming up with that rule.
I pass her the shoe and watch as she puts it on and buckles it, treating me as though I am just a piece of furniture. She doesn’t even speak when she swaps foot, just holds out her hand for me to pass her the second shoe.
“Kiss.” She orders once she has put her second shoe on.
She is standing upright again, only her left foot has remained on my knee. With nothing else in reach, I know she means for me to kiss her shoe. Not exactly as romantic or exciting as kissing her lips but I am the one who stopped that from happening. I accept in my head that she had been right when saying this rule was a bad idea as I lean down and kiss her foot.
“And now the other one.” She continues, removing her foot from my knee.
I expect her to lift her other foot back onto my knee but she simply stands there looking down at me, her feet mostly hidden by the dress. Looking up at her, she gives me the same face as before, one that projects impatience. I cower in defeat, going onto both knees and kissing her right foot.
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