Chasing Mistress Steph

"Mistress Stephanie"

Luke was delighted. This woman sounded exactly like what he was looking for! He had once traveled three hours to visit a professional dominatrix in Seattle, an experience he found thrilling, terrifying, and probably the most intense erotic thrill he had ever experienced. Yet, a three hour drive, and a hefty tribute, made it a relationship that simply was not sustainable. Could the girl of his dreams really be that close?

He started to think about his frequent sexual fantasies involving submitting to a female dominant. He had many. Being forced to cross-dress for her, being kept in a chastity cage and ordered to pleasure himself in front of her at her amusement, being whipped, spanked- the physical and mental sensations so powerful yet so delicious at the same time. And from what it seemed, this girl would be totally willing to explore these fantasies with him. Plus, she was obviously experienced, and knew what he was doing. He started to imagine what it would be like to be with a woman like that. Would it be all he dreamed of? It didn't take long for him to write back. He told her, of course, he was interested. Would love to be on the end of her leash, would love to be her personal slave, but then he realized he did not even have a picture of her! But yet it sounded like the chemistry would be correct. In his e-mail, he tried to be polite, to not let his lusts drive him to say stupid things (Jees, I hope I don't screw this up and scare her off! He thought) and he asked her, maybe you can call me sometime and chat? He included his home phone number- the old land line- with his response.

The next day at work was a typical boring southeastern Washington day. Cold, overcast, windy. He drove to work right as the sun was starting to clear the horizon. At the intersection of 20th and Sylvester, a scruffy, rail thin man with a pockmarked face was shuffling jerkily along, waving his arms. In this town, with so little real entertainment, Luke knew that many people turned to meth, which at first could make even boring menial stuff seem super entertaining. Until you reached a certain point, quicker than most people ever realized, that it made nothing entertaining at all.

At his job, he grinded away at highway project budget numbers- he was in the planning department of the Franklin County highway district and was responsible for making sure the road work crews got paid and the equipment and materials were paid for. He was busy enough to not really think too much about the girl he had e-mails with; maybe something will happen with this, maybe not, but he wasn't too hopeful at this stage. He was more worried that the highway 395 Mesa- Connell project was going over-budget. It seemed like the crews seemed to stretch out the timeline and the budgets for road projects as long as they could get away with, and honestly, it seemed every one of Luke's friends outside of work had told him this at one time or other. He was beginning to believe it.

Then he got home, sat down in front of his computer, and to his joy, there was a message from her.

She was even more beautiful than he had imagined she would be.

He had checked his phone first thing after he had gotten home, hoping she had decided to call him, but there was no message. But instead, to Luke's delight, Stephanie had replied to his e-mail, and had in fact sent a response. Even better, she had sent him pictures of her!

It was nice to finally put a face to the picture he had of her in his mind. And she really got his juices flowing. She had an almost perfect, petite body. Tan skin, long brown hair, wearing a low cut dress showing perfect breasts. Dark brown eyes behind rimless glasses- some girls looked hot wearing glasses and Stephanie was definitely one of them. Any guy would have wanted to date her in the vanilla world. But Luke planned to share something more special, even more intimate and more powerful with her than any man could ever dream of. He immediately imagined himself naked, kneeling in front of her, worshipping her body, and awaiting either the sting of her whip, or a mocking statement about his own sexual inadequacy (humiliation was one of his secret turn-ons) and then maybe as a reward, an order to satisfy her orally.

Her e-mail read:

"Good to read from you (sic.). I would like to know more. Tell me in more details about your fetishes and fantasies. I need you to send some of your photos to me."

"If you truly wish to please me to the fullest, I have some rules I would want you to follow:

1. My slave will always address me as Goddess/Mistress. DON'T forget this and you should always respond to any of my mail as soon as possible as a show of respect.

2. My slave would always be loving, faithful, loyal, caring, honest, trusted straightforward, committed, communicated passionate and romantic.

3. You must NEVER doubt or argue with my decisions. As my slave I command you to delete your profile from the web dating sites, which ever one you sign up with. Because as a mistress I like been focus to my slave. (sic) and I don't share slave and I shall always supersede your own, and My tiniest whim is your absolute law...".

(Luke grew puzzled at this one, trying to figure out what she meant.)

"4. You must NEVER do anything BDSM related without my permission first.

5. .My slaves (sic) speaks in third person speech. Therefore you shouldn't use the words "I," "me," or "mine." Instead, say "this one," "this slave," or "this object."

6. My slave will never disagree or argue with a ME. (sic)

7. My slave should not enter into the conversations of himself and his Mistress with others .I love to share a special and sacred bond with my slave without any interference.

8. For My slave it is a good idea to ask for permission to enter a talk (sic) with your mistress as well as always ask permission before leaving a conversation.

9. As My slave, if you are unsure of something ask your Mistress, your Mistress is your teacher and path.

10. My slave is to be pleasing at all times; so you will. There is no room for bad moods. Perfection of service and submission is the goal."

"I hope to hear from you!"

He read her list of rules carefully. It all sounded good to him! Although he wondered, was she going to be this strict 24 hours a day, seven days a week? What if he wanted just casual conversation, just to hang out with her, watch movies, or take walks like a normal couple? Would this dynamic be in place the whole time, and if so, would he grow used to such a one-sided relationship, both outside the bedroom and in? The idea scared him as much as it excited him, but as a 38 year old with a decent job and a decent house, he was tired of the bachelor lifestyle and was ready to settle. Why not jump into this? They could work it all out together, he supposed. This girl seemed pretty awesome! Exactly like the type of person who would complement him and understand him.

Luke had dated local women off and on, but it always felt like there was something missing, some spark. He was always the perfect gentleman, as that was the way his mother had raised him. In fact, when he was with his buddies, he would engage in the usual guy talk, and with probably way too liberal use of the word "Fuckin'" as a thought-gathering adjective. But when he was with girls, he went out of his way to suppress all of that gutter mouth speak. He would try to be sensitive to their needs and their feelings, and try to do what he could to make them smile. But so many of these women would turn out to be either passive, submissive, or else frigid, and he would quickly lose interest. Here was a woman who was very clear what her needs were- and, it seemed, her needs and his deepest, darkest and most delicious fantasies coincided.

But yet he had one nagging concern. Her e-mail did have some weird issues with grammar and punctuation. Luke was pretty well educated, and he liked smart women, so would that be a sticking point? Maybe she didn't speak English that well. Or maybe, when she was typing it on an I-phone, she was just typing really quickly and didn't have time to proofread the message, or something. Anyway he was certainly no grammar Nazi! "Hopefully she doesn't have a super thick Russian accent or something," he thought to himself.

So he figured, I may as well follow her rules and write her back.

"Dear Mistress Steph," he wrote.

"Good to read from you too!" (Hoping he wouldn't irritate her too much with that little inside joke about bad grammar.)

"You sound like exactly like what I am looking for! I don't want to rush into anything too quickly, but I would really like to get to know you more! In fact I was hoping you would call me and we could chat in person instead of by e-mail."

"I don't really have any other profiles on dating sites, so no problem there. I think we would totally get along fine, and I hope I will be a good slave to you. Are you into strap-on worship? Chastity play? As my mistress I would love You to control my orgasms, make me earn them by serving you, both for you to unload your sadistic side on me, and by making you smile..."

"...Some of my more taboo fantasies include toilet play and forced bisexual play, if you were to cheat on me (it is your right, you are my Goddess) then I might even be coerced into fluffing your lover for you. Geez, it is embarrassing to admit this, but, maybe you would understand. But at first- I would like to hand you the other end of the leash I am holding in the photo!"

"If you want to talk more, I would totally like to get to know you! You do live in the tri-cities area right? I'm on the south end of town, maybe we could meet up for coffee sometime, you know, just casual, first."

"Sincerely,

Luke H."

With his e-mail replay, Luke had included a "Selfie" of himself, naked in front of a full length mirror, with a homemade leash around his scrotum made of a leather belt and a spiked armband. He had once modeled such a contraption for one of his past girlfriends, and playfully asked if she would pull him around on such a leash, but she had politely but firmly told him she thought it was just too weird. Embarrassed, Luke had never broached such activity again, with anyone else he had dated. He also sent her his cell phone number, as she already had his old land line number, and told her he hoped she would call.

-5-

At the apartment, the music was rocking and the vodka was flowing. Alex, Ludmila, Boris Vodovitch and Darya Furnatova from Ludmila's work, and some friend of Boris's named Vassily Rislov were busy partying away in his fifth floor apartment, cranking tunes and drinking. Boris was mighty proud of that apartment, cluttered and disheveled though it typically was, and it was not uncommon that they would be invited over here. Darya was not actually dating Boris, although Ludmila had told him that Boris had ulterior (though futile, as she had privately made clear) motives about that.

But that night, Boris and Ludmila had just cashed a couple checks- free money- and everyone present were loving it.

"So, how does this you guys do all of this? You guys scored here I see. Cheers to you guys!" Alex said, raising a glass and tilting it back.

Boris explained, "It's easy! So Ludmila set up personal ads, on Internet dating sites for sex, right? Men seeking Woman, Casual Encounters. All over the US. Then stupid dumb horny Jewish Americans fall for these girls, then they send us money. Because, the dang Jews have all of the money anyway."

Geez, Shut UP Boris, he thought to himself. It was always "The Jews" with him. Alex half wondered if a Jewish guy had stolen his girlfriend once, or something like that. Although Boris never seemed to have a steady girlfriend that either he or Ludmila knew of.

"But that scam has been done a million times! I would think most Americans, Jewish or otherwise, are smarter than that?"

"Yes, but these aren't normal personals. You got to do it right. You use fetish ads. The kinkier, the weirder, the more people will respond. And you got to do it right."

"So lemme get this straight." Alex said, turning to his wife. "You use those photos I took of you to put on some kinky sex personal ads in America?" Alex was aghast, but at the same time, almost secretly a bit turned on that there were apparently so many creepy guys that would find his wife attractive enough to send money to her.

"Well, we decided to use different photos. Look, Boris will show you..."

"What, okay..."

"Yeah, no, check it out, follow me. Look at this!" he said.

The group followed Boris into the bedroom and stood over his laptop while he pulled up a couple images. The girl on the laptop was attractive, long brown hair, tan, glasses, but she was obviously not Ludmila. And not as hot as Ludmila was either, or at least Alex thought so.

"This is Nadja Zaretskaya, a model from Nizhny Novgorod. We decided to use her photo..."

"My wife not good enough?"

"No, no! It's not that!" Boris replied.

"Well, I figure, I didn't want my picture all across America for every creepy guy to see, right? I decided those should best be kept between us." Ludmila interjected. ("...and not these guys either") she whispered, giggling.

"So what if someone recognizes the girl in the photo as Nadja Zaretskaya?" Alex asked.

"Relax. Who will know? What do people know in America about Russian models? I mean, do you know any American models?"

"Personally no. Well, I mean, there is Kim Kardashian, and, uh..." Alex drew a blank.

"Exactly! What matters is, Ludmila, she can write. In fact, she is a great writer. You would be proud of her. She sets up all the ads, and the e-mails."

"Well, if nothing else, the money's good, ha ha. This is awesome you guys!" Alex said. "And that's not all she's good at." he whispered. "So then you..."

"Me? I set up the accounts for Paypal through friends in the United States." Boris said. "They send the money to these accounts and it gets forwarded to us, into our banks, and we get cash!"

"So you know English too?" Alex asked. His wife knew some English, but it was only rudimentary.

"What? No! Who needs English! They have software on the web that translate Russian into English. It will even change the text into those funny backward letters the English speakers use."

"Wow. I didn't know that. Cool!"

"Dude I bro the hay, Daw Hag-man Nar!" Boris replied, in his mock Fake-English speak he sometimes thought was entertaining.

"Shut UP Boris!" Ludmila said.

The night went on. Alex, Ludmila, and Vassily hit it off talking about hockey, sports in general, life in Dzerzhinsk, and funny things Americans do. Ludmila regaled the group about some of the ridiculous things Dmitri Mazhkov sometimes said while drunk in the afternoon. Ironically Boris was saying some of the same type of things right at that moment. First he was telling Darya how glad he was that Putin had restricted immigration ("We don't want 'em messing up our country!") while she politely smiled and nodded. Then he was explaining his theory about road construction and the Illuminati ("The reason some roads are always under construction is because the Illuminati want to control all transportation" he was saying.) Whoever these Illuminati were, they were, next to "The Jews," one of Boris's favorite scapegoats for everything from his male pattern baldness to his lack of a sex life. And on that note, by the end of the night, Boris was ragingly drunk and had attempted, unsuccessfully, to put the moves on Darya. She was having none of it, especially after sitting through several of his typical drunken harangues. Some guys do that, Alex thought- they invariably think they are being intelligent and witty but really succeed only in being loud and drunk.

Alex and Ludmila walked the six blocks home eventually. Neither were ragingly drunk, but why take the chance. And after all Valeriy's baby sitter was getting paid, and they didn't want to go over budget there, at least not until a little more money rolled in.

"So, this will keep on going right?" Alex asked her.

"As long as we keep putting the ads out there and Americans keep responding to them, we should be able to make a bit extra dough for a while. I hope."

When they got home, Ludmila changed into that outfit Alex had photographed her in, and with a seductive, "Come here slave boy!" she beckoned Alex into the bedroom. They made powerful, orgasmic love that night. He almost wished she HAD used that photo for those fake ads. Make those Americans jealous.

-6-

Luke could not stop thinking about Stephanie while at work. All day long, he could not wait for his shift to end, and would glance at his phone, waiting for her to call. But she had not. He had not bothered to check his e-mail though, and he was now at home in front of the screen, in the midst of a delicious fantasy about her. In his mind, she was dressed just like in her picture. He was on his knees in front of her, a cage around his cock with a leash on the end, and she was holding the leash and dragging him around with it, while mocking his small penis. He imagined her ordering him to lick her leather boots, then her thighs, then slapping him harshly, whipping him, spanking him, because he had dared dream of tasting her tan, trimmed bush. It was all so delicious! And soon, these fantasies might well become real. He knew, from experience that the longer he went without orgasming the more powerful and intense the fantasies were, and the more intense the orgasm finally was when he finally came. Oh how wonderful it would be to experience one of those orgasms with her, at her command! And would she dare let him pleasure her orally as well?

And there had been a message on his land line. His heart had leapt at this, but when he pressed replay, it was only Jared, wanting to grab tacos and beers with Abby and Tom down at Taqueria El Sazon down on Court Street later that night. (arrgh, fucking Jared! All right, I'd call you back in a while, he groused.)

He finally had the nerve to log on to his e-mail, hoping that Stephanie would have responded. At seeing her reply, his heart leapt:

"I'm glad with your openness...However, I want you to know that all you asked would be done and more would be done to you. I will have you lick my ass and pussy as much as I want you to. I love most regular fetishes like Tease & Denial, role-play, bondage, orgasm control, body worship, light whipping, spanking, tickling, stretching (rack), suspension, body worship , feet and ass worshiping strap on play, pony training, butt plugs, handcuffs, blindfolds, medieval rack, stockade, ball gags, sensory deprivation, humiliation, confinement and caging, among others."

"But note that these fetishes are only applicable in our relationship if they are equally fine by you. The moment you want to stop, you can use your safe words and that will be the end of the session for that day. Being a new slave to me, you will have to tell me about the things that turns you on in the bdsm world. So I will know the things to work on from my angle. I want and only practice safe sex. I love to humiliate and dominate. I will love to know your desires as my slave. And I also engage in other activities which depends on what you may desire in fetish and fantasies sharing... Moreover, I work as an event planner and I am affiliated to many reputable management firms. In my busy life, I always have time to take care of myself from my hair to my foot. I often go to spa for facial treatment and massage, take care my hair, manicure and pedicure, when I have the money to do it. When I don't or feel like not going out, I do it by myself even if I'm tired. I always take shower and have my body spray with deodorant and body cream before I go to bed, I love go to bed smelling good. I like to read good books especially those that are inspirational and creative. I like to stay on bed listening to romantic music or on bed watching movies. I love play golf but now I don't have a partner to play, but I can tell you that playing with me is hard and requires patience :) because I'm bad hitting balls lol, whenever I hit the ball for some reason hide on me, almost all the game look at my balls hahahah lol, now I know why I don't have play partner, nobody want to play with me lol (sic) I'm a mistress with substance, honest, clear...not perfect, but real.. I'm not into pain and I always set my limits at the boundaries of an understandable agreement between myself and my prospective slave."