An Enigma

When she said yes, you were ecstatic. it was what you wanted more than anything - to meet your Mistress in person, finally.

But tonight, as you drive to the airport to pick her up, the butterflies in your stomach are simply frantic. Part of you is so nervous it just wants you to go home, but the other half of you loves the anxiety. That part is so excited to see the woman you’ve given your will to, the woman with so much more power over you than even she realizes, the woman you ache to please. Your Mistress. Therefore, you only have one choice - one that she has skillfully narrowed your life down to - you must meet her.

As you park and lock your car, you smile to yourself, wondering what she will be like. All along, you’ve tried to keep from forming an image of her in your mind, to keep from raising any expectations. She has accepted you just as you are and though you’ve not met her in person, you know that you’re already in love with her.

She’s quite an enigma though, your Mistress. Most times she seems strong and sure of herself - guiding your pleasure and your actions. Yet sometimes she shows a weak side. She shows fear and confusion and great anxiety and she tell you to talk to her, so she can just listen to the sound of your voice and find her own solace. Sometimes it almost seems your roles are reversed but you accept it as her trust in you and another way that she gets her own desires fulfilled. You have no idea what to expect from her tonight. But you are willing to give her whatever she desires.

Your anticipation is overwhelming as you wait at the gate. How will she behave? Will she expect your submissiveness now or wait for an appropriate time? All along, you’ve retained a normal relationship, falling into your D/s roles easily and naturally when you both desired. Your natural rhythms seem always in sync.

There’s too much nervous energy in you to allow you to sit and wait. You pace back and forth, winding in and out of the other people waiting too.

Then lights shine through the huge plate glass window and you see they are lights from the gate reflecting off the huge metal bulk of the arriving plane. You know she’s out there and in a mere few minutes, you can touch her - if she allows - you can smell her, possibly kiss her. And hear that mellow, dusky voice coming from her lips, not through the impersonal earpiece of a phone.

As travelers being streaming out of the gate, you push forward. Your height makes that easy for you.

And down the hall, you see her. You know her right away because of the golden hair cascading around her, falling to her waist. She has a beautiful, soft face, clear, pale blue eyes that prove her to be a loving dreamer, (or a dreamy lover?), and a confidence in her step that is natural. It speaks volumes to you, despite all her protests to the contrary. It says that she knows who she is and accepts it and doesn’t much care what anyone else thinks about it.

She spots you now. Instantly, her face breaks into a warm, full smile - showing you no sign of doubt, hesitation or disappointment in you. If anything, it is a little hopeful. Your heart skips a few beats but you relax inside and step up to greet her.

Removing any uncertainty of yours, she opens her arms as she approaches, inviting your embrace. You return the smile and lead her to the side to let the other travelers pass. As she slides into your arms, you catch her personal scent - a clean mixture of soap and maybe a hint of a light perfume, but only a trace, leaving you wanting to sniff for it again to be sure.

She becomes a warm, cuddly armful, her arms hidden beneath a plain white sweat shirt go around you and hug you tightly - her clear, smiling face turns to the side and she presses it against your chest.

You hug her intensely, breathing in the fresh scent of her surprisingly baby-fine hair. Your hand becomes entangled in it as you crush her to your chest. You are more than a foot taller than she is.

And then she surprises you by turning her face up to yours and reaching up with both hands, placing a palm on each of your cheeks. Lightly, she brushes your lips with her own. You taste bubblegum and your heart smiles at this hint of childhood. Then the pressure increases and the kiss grows passionate. When you feel her tongue drawn across your lips, you are certain she can feel you growing hard against her. You accept her probing tongue into your mouth and can’t hold back sending yours exploring her mouth. You are both oblivious to the people around you.

Though there is a moment of disappointment, you let her go when she breaks the kiss.

“Hi,” she says simply, grinning.

Her voice takes your breath momentarily, but you laugh and say hi.

She looks pointedly at your crotch and then back up at your blushing face.

“I see you brought me a gift,” she observes, teasing you.

Her bluntness takes you off guard, but you know you should have been prepared for that. She is always that way.

“We both know who it already belongs to,” you tell her.

Without visibly moving a muscle in her face, her expression changes from one of open friendliness to one of confident lust. A flush moves up her neck to her cheeks.

“Yes, we do,” she says, her tone deep and whiskey-throated. “Let’s get out of this airport.”

“As you wish.”

She doesn’t ask you to carry her bag that she retrieves from the baggage carousel, but you get the feeling she expects no less. Is this because she fells her part as your Mistress or because she believes it is just something a man should do for a woman? You have the same question when she pauses for you to open the door to exit the building. It comes so natural to her that you know she is accustomed to it, but as a Mistress or as a woman?

You are easy together on the drive to your house, making casual small talk. She is open and friendly and you are amazed at how comfortable you feel with her. Is she deliberately putting you at ease?

“Well, this is it,” you say, stepping into your apartment, flicking on the light and holding the door for her.

She steps past you and looks around appraisingly, nodding her head.

“This is very nice,” she tells you approvingly. “Very comfortable.” She turns to watch you close the door. As soon as it shuts and you turn around, she says one word.

“Strip.”

You’ve become so complacent that this immediately surprises you and you hesitate.

“Now,” she says. You see that same lustful smile on her pretty face, underlayed by an expression that she expects no less than your complete obedience.

“Yes, Mistress,” you say, only a little bit nervously, but you give a worried look at the open front curtains. Anyone passing on the street will be able to look right in and see you.

The nervousness grows as you begin to peel away your clothes, laying them across the chair by the door until you stand completely naked before you.

Her smile is still in place but her eyes have become half-lidded - the look known as “bedroom eyes”. The erection that had subsided in the car begins to return now with quick twitches.

“Very nice,” she breathes in a whisper, coming closer to you. She circles you, letting her fingers trace around your stomach, your hip, the small of your back and to the other hip.

“You may continue doing whatever you like, I just wanted to be able to see all of my property.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” you reply. This was not anything you expected. You clear your throat and pick up her bag and carry on. “Um, will you prefer to sleep in my room or in a room by yourself?” you ask.

She pauses before she answers, then surprises you again. “Where would you like for me to sleep?” she asks. It’s not delivered I the same tone of voice a regular guest might use, but in a tone that seems to already know what your answer will be.

You smile and know that words are unnecessary. She follows you to your bedroom.

“I would like to see your toys,” she tells you. “I find myself in a growing mood to play.” Her smile is devilish. She knows what you will like.

After you put her bags out of the way, you hurry to pull open the nightstand’s deep drawer. Silently, you pull out each item and make a small pile on your bed. You feel your cock growing impossibly harder as you remember each time in the past months that you’ve used on of these items and called out her name at your grand release.

She comes up behind you, standing very close, examining the items on the bed. You are bent over slightly to dig in the drawer but you don’t think she’s interested in you at the moment.

However, you are wrong. Though she is studying your toys, she reaches with one small finger and traces it down the crack of your ass.

Her unexpected touch causes you to jump but it sends sparks of electric pleasure through your skin and a rash of goose bumps down your thighs. The hair on your legs stands up.

“Does my touch cause you such alarm?” she asks, a gentle teasing in her tone.

“No, Mistress, not at all,” you swear. “I just didn’t expect that.” You have turned around to answer her.

“Good,” she smiles, “But I believe for now I prefer the other view.” With reflexes like lightning and a strength you never expected, she grabs you and tosses you onto the bed, your face beside your pile of toys.

The position you are in has you bent over the bed, legs hanging off, torso stretched flat and your hard cock pressing into the soft comforter like warm flesh.

“Open your legs,” she commands, positioning herself between them. “I want a good look at you. Especially at his pussy I may want to penetrate later.”

You begin to speak but she demands your silence. “Only speak if I accidentally cause you pain or if I give you permission. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Mistress,” you say, unsure what to feel right now.

In fact, you feel nothing for several moments, then realize that she is scrutinizing you. Her gaze is almost a tangible thing on your skin and you feel yourself furiously blushing.

Then there are hands on your skin, on the fleshy curve of your butt. The hands knead the soft flesh and rove over the rise from your back to your thighs. You feel her thumbs pressing between the cheeks. Then they part the cheeks, and hold you wide open.

It is the most vulnerable you’ve ever felt in your life - held open at her mercy like that. You can’t help the tension that has made your muscles grow tight.

In her red velvet voice, she whispers, “Relax, my pet. I’ll never cause you pain. Never more than you desire. Relax. Let yourself be open to me. This pussy is mine still, isn’t it?”

You find your voice has deserted you, your mouth too dry to speak. Instead, you make a small, meek sound of affirmation deep in your throat.

“Good Sean, good slave,” she says. You feel the tip of one thumb rub lightly over the rosebud opening. It sends another involuntary shockwave through you.

“Yes, she says, as if to herself. “I think I would like to fuck this pussy. It’s so beautiful to me.”

The hands are suddenly gone from your body. You hear the sounds of her undressing behind you and though you long to look at her, you don’t dare move from the position she’s put you in. It’s actually comfortable lying this way, but not as comfortable as when her hands are one you.

Then something lands on the bed beside your face and you recognize these immediately as her panties. Black silk panties, and you catch the scent of her own excitement coming off them.

“You can feel them and know what you do to me,” she permits.

“Thank you, Mistress,” you tell her, eagerly taking the panties and opening them to the crotch. They are very warm and damp and her smell to you is better than anything you can imagine. You feel moisture draining from the tip of your cock as you long to taste her for yourself. Instead, you continue to breathe in her fragrance.

The sounds you hear now are not immediately identifiable, but you know she has dug into your drawer again. And then you feel your cheeks parted once more and a raw coldness against your anus. Quickly though, it is soothed by a warm finger. You realized she has just found your lubricant.

Then there is an alien thing pushing lightly back there, a cool rubber phallus being moved up and down inside your crack, warming itself with your own body heat.

“I can’t wait to feel this slide into you,” she breathes. You can hear her arousal in her voice. “I’m going to fuck this pussy until you beg me to stop.”

Your excitement has made your own breathing grow rapid. After waiting for so many months, you’ll finally feel her pierce your flesh.

With one hand gripping your hips, she holds the strap-on and guides it right to your opening. Using her finger to loosen you a bit, she puts the head of it against the hole and applies slow, gentle pressure. When you gasp, she stops, allowing you to get used to the girth., With the hand on your hip, she begins to stroke your skin lightly, tracing your lower back until chills appear again.

“Relax, honey,” she tells you, “Relax and let me inside you. I want to feel your flesh enfolding me. I want to slide in and out of this pretty pussy. Relax those muscles.”

You make the conscious effort and the sphincter opens slightly, but enough for her to slide in to the hilt. This makes you sigh in a mixture of pain and intense pleasure.

“Ah, very good, very good, little slave,” she says. “It feels so good to know I’m inside you now.”

She starts to move, pulling out ever so slowly. Then she pushes back in again, only slightly faster. This slow motion continues for several minutes until she knows you’re sufficiently loosened. Already, your pleasure has built to a screaming height. You’re not sure how long you can take it before your body demands release.

Now, with both hands gripping your hips, she begins to fuck you hard, almost roughly. Your hands grip the spread and your face is contorted with the ecstasy you feel.

Each time she slams into you, it sends a shock up your spine, passing deliciously from vertebrae to vertebrae. Your passion is so strong that you’re afraid you will pass out, afraid that you will displease her this way. Each time she pushes deep into you, you’re afraid it will be the last one you can handle, yet she continues.

While still pounding you from behind, she leans over you now and you feel her golden shower of hair on your back, tickling your skin. She grips the hair on the top of your head and holding a handful, she tugs your head roughly back, stretching your neck.

“You’re my good little bitch, aren’t you?” she asks, fucking you so hard. “Tell me whose pussy I’m pounding into.”

“It belongs to you, Mistress!” you cry, having to force the words out coherently.

“Yes,” she whispers and you feel a soft kiss on your back, contrasting the rough violation down lower.

A hand snakes under you and finds an erect nipple.

“And these?” she asks, pinching it pleasantly and cruelly.

“Yours, Mistress. I am all yours!”

“Would my pet like to cum for his Mistress?”

“Oh, yes, yes please, my Mistress!” you cry.

“How bad would my wonderful slave like to cum?”

“I can hardly hold back!” you feel tears coming to your eyes, hardly able to speak.

Suddenly, the pounding stops and you feel that she has withdrawn. You are afraid you are going to implode.

“You believe the slave should be allowed to cum before his Mistress does?”

Physically frustrated but mentally confused for the moment, you say, “Oh, no Mistress! Of course not!”

“I know how bad you want to cum,” she says, “I can feel it. So you’d better attend me quickly. Turn over.”

You roll over onto your back, feeling your ass sliding over the damp spot made by your precum. And now your Mistress climbs onto the bed, crawling up your body. You feel the wetness between her legs while it settle for just a bare second on your throbbing cock. But she continues to move higher, her breasts and taut pink nipples passing over your lips. She still moves higher, until her knees are on each side of your head and you can look up to see her face looking down at you. With only a slight shift in direction, you see her pussy inches above your face. It is trimmed neatly, the lips are engorged with lust and the insides of her thighs are wet.

“Make me cum,” she commands as she lowers herself onto your mouth.

You waste not a second before you dive in, moaning at how wonderful she tastes and very wet she is. You wrap your arms around her hips and pull her down onto your face even harder.

She grips the back of your head, guiding you to her most sensitive spots. When you make your tongue hard and push it inside her, it becomes her turn to moan. And it only takes a few minutes before her orgasm hits her and you fell her muscles contracting around your tongue. You catch the sweeter, hotter juices that flow from deep inside her as she cums.

When she’s done, she immediately lets her body slide back down yours until her face is even with yours.

“Very well done, my pet. Very good,” she pants, then kisses you, licking her own salty sweet juices from your lips. Then she moves down until she’s kneeling between your knees.

“I didn’t want you to cum while I was fucking you,” she explains, “Because I want to taste you.”

She plunges her mouth down on your rock-hard cock and takes it in so deep that you feel the muscles at the back of her throat. With her other hand, she probes for your ravaged opening. Using two fingers, she starts to fuck you again.

“Cum for me, my dear sweet slave,” she says, and you fell her hot breath on the shaft. “Cum in my mouth! Your Mistress wants to taste you!”

You can’t hold out any longer and you scream out her real name as your semen explodes against the back of her mouth. She’s eager to swallow every drop you give her until you collapse back on the bed, sweating and panting.

She pushes the toys off the bed and climbs up to lie beside you. Because she has been submissive before, she knows the place where your mind is now. The place it goes when someone has taken your will and given you that kind of explosion in return. She lays her head in the crook of your shoulder and lets her fingertips dance over your chest.

“You are such a wonderful pet,” she says, adding light kisses to the fingertip waltz. “Such a willing and obedient good slave.”

She allows you to fall asleep in that comfortable safe place.