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The encounter with a Master (4)


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on: October 23, 2019, 04:33:53 PM
The encounter with a Master - IV

Stone. I look at the phone as if it were not possible. He hung up on me. But what a voice! Never in my life had a tone of voice frozen my blood that way.

Tomorrow at lunchtime. Tomorrow at lunchtime.

I spent the rest of the day distracted, not focusing on work, and finally told the secretary I was going shopping. And I got into a taxi in the direction of a well-known underwear store; I've been looking at the stockings (no pantyhose had said it loudly). I have chosen a small black grille with a built-in garter that holds the thigh perfectly without leaving a mark. In the meantime, I bought a roguish black set, the very tight bra of those who mark channelillo and a tiny matching thong.

She came home totally excited thinking about my next day's meeting. But I find what, with whom? And like a little girl getting ready for a party, I washed the blouse, and ironed the skirt. On the bed of the guest room I have placed the stockings, underwear and shoes with immaculately clean heels.

Then, in order to relax, I took a foam bath; in the water, I caressed myself thinking of those hands I saw holding the lighter that now rests on the sidewalk of the bathroom.

I look at it again and again, it is silver, precious, cold with a garabatillo that I have not just identified. It works, I've tried it several times and it says a lot about its owner, it's an exclusive, interesting and undoubtedly disturbing being. But it excites me.

No, I can't help it. I close my eyes and I remember him holding the girl's head between his legs, on his bulky package and ... I can't help but feel envious. Yes, envy. She has been able to enjoy something that has to be wonderful. But at what price?

No doubt the price was delivery. I have never seen anyone else... submissive. That was it! Of course, that was it. A Master with his submissive. Quite angry indeed. He hadn't come back with her the next day. I have read countless stories on the subject, in secret, since I was a child. I always found the subject, the situations, exciting... but I always thought it was fantasy, imagination, morbid, not reality.

I continue caressing myself while I bathe; delighting myself, passing the hands softly with the sponge full of foam between the legs, by the thighs, until arriving at my sex, completely depilated, soft. I open my legs a little, as I had seen the woman do the other day, and the water enters warm between my lips.

I open them and caress them lustfully, I touch with the fingertips the clitoris that quickly responds, hardening. With the other hand I lift the sponge up my belly, my stomach, until it reaches my chest. I have two appetizing tits, which cry out for a good review: caresses, lametones, kisses, bites, all together, ... The soap well, slowly, and the nipples become hard like small chickpeas and the aureoles, large size, contract.

I close my eyes and think of the hands of that man caressing me, weighing what he sees, checking "his merchandise".

What strange thoughts run through my head! He's just a guy with a desire to go that has noticed me and that I like. These are modern times.

I could hardly sleep, I woke up half an hour earlier than usual, I showered conscientiously, with strong jets of hot water to open the pores, and then I smeared my whole body with a moisturizing body cream that smells like aloe. I have massaged my thighs, my legs, my buttocks, my belly, my breasts, and then my neck and my arms, slowly. I have very soft skin but this cream accentuates that feeling of touching silk that all men appreciate in my body.

Slowly I have dressed, thong, bra, stockings, shirt smelling of softener, skirt, shoes, I have gently perfumed my neck, my hands and all the way that lets see my neckline. Then I have sprinkled all the clothes with my cologne water so that it is clear how my body smells.  I took the lighter and caressed it almost with devotion and then put it in my coat pocket so that I could touch it all the way to work. It's like touching him.

The whole morning at the office has been a mess. I haven't focused on anything, nor have I managed to positively resolve any of the projects I had pending. The look gone, the thought in another place. The secretary asked me if I was feeling well, on several occasions. Well? In my life I have had a more excited aspect, nor the most exciting semblant.

The day has become immense, but finally it's time to eat; once again I had to avoid the invitations of my colleagues to eat together.

Before going out I went to the bathroom and touched up my hair, brushing it gently, my eyes and blush, I don't wear makeup, I don't need it and I don't like it too much, a slight shade of lips just to give shine. Again I have sprinkled my clothes with the soft perfume of my cologne water, nothing cloying, sweet, fresh, soft, ...

And I've gone to the restaurant as the rookie who's headed for her first job interview. Making sure I had the lighter in my hand, I pushed the door of the restaurant and there I was, haughty, sitting at the same table, with a dismissive attitude and consulting the clock.

You're late! were his first words, "Don't let it happen again!

The waiter approached and we ordered the food, while we waited for the first course, his voice gave me the first instructions.

"From this moment on, and as long as you are with me, don't cross your legs, keep them open so that your thighs don't touch each other, so that I can play without any kind of difficulty".

When I was about to answer, he gave me a small blow with the back of his hand on his arm.

"No one has authorized you to speak, you will answer when you are asked. Now just listen. You know what I am and if you don't know, you will learn it, I hope as soon as possible. I am not very patient. I am demanding. I will only repeat the instructions once, if you do not follow them you will be punished. Understood?"

In simple, "Yes" came out of my throat. Again the blow with the back of the hand. "That's not the right treatment, bitch.

He explained in a few words, that I should address him as Master, not as my Master (for nothing of his was) but simply as Master. That he liked his orders to be carried out without complaint and of course without question, quickly and diligently. That the word was NOT strictly forbidden in my vocabulary and if I used it I would be punished. That from that moment and until he deemed it opportune my body belonged exclusively to him and that he would indicate to me how he thought to dispose of it.

"Now, he said to me, I am going to give you the opportunity to remedy the first disrespect to my instructions. Bitch, I told you yesterday that with the same clothes, that included underwear, I appreciate that you wear thong when yesterday you were wearing panties and that today's black bra is different from yesterday's. Well, take them off right now, here, in the discreet way that you judge appropriate, but NOW".

I did not go out of my astonishment, I understood the bra but the thong seemed to me an excess and I was about to reply that yesterday I also wore thong (lie, obviously) but I did not think it was a good idea.

As I could take off my bra, but the thong cost me some more work, I thought about asking permission to do it in the bathroom, but something inside me told me that I would not be allowed, so I wiggled slowly until both garments rested in my bag.

I instinctively put the lighter on the table, close to her hand, as if to show her that I had done at least that part of her orders correctly, but again she hit my arm.

"Stupid bitch, you don't even know how to understand the most elementary instruction, I told you to keep the lighter until I asked you to, and I don't remember doing it".

I was stunned, I picked up the lighter and when I was going to put it in my purse, his voice told me to hold it all the time in the palm of my hand.

"Look, bitch, I'm going to give you a series of elementary rules of behavior that I hope you follow to the letter, from now on you will never wear those ridiculous thongs again, no garment will give you for ass, that's what I'm for. You will not paint your lips, my cock and my pants do not like.  I see that you do not wear makeup, well, one thing less that you will have to remove.  You will never wear pantyhose again, if I surprise you with them I will make you remove them immediately where we are. You are my property until I judge it opportune, therefore, you will abstain from having cordial or exciting treatment with any man in your office or in the restaurants, behaving like an exit bitch that was what you seemed yesterday with so much wiggle of legs and unbuttoning the blouse as a cheap furcia. You are my bitch, my whore and my furcia and you will act only for me, when and as I want. Remember that you must not, under any circumstances close your legs, as I told you, to be at all times easy access to my hands or any object I want to use with you. Is that clear to you?"

A "Yes, Master" came out of my throat. Stunned, I didn't know whether to run away or cry like a child. That man was a savage, a real cruel savage, ... but he had me excited like a bitch. Since she started talking to me, her voice had acted on me like a caress, as if a big cock was caressing my whole body, and when she had removed my thong she was already soaked. My concern was that I would get my skirt wet soon, and there was nothing I could do to contain the streak, as I was forced to stay with my legs open.

"Now that we're clear about our respective status, I want your full availability for this next weekend. At six o'clock in the afternoon on Friday, when you leave the office, I will be waiting for you with my car at the door and we will go to a little house I have in the mountains, where you will learn to be a good slave or I will grind you with sticks. Understood? Then I will call you to give you more instructions, now I must go."

He put his hand on my thigh and stroked it slowly until he reached the beginning of the league, kissed me tenderly on the lips and stood up.

(It will continue)

If you have any comments or suggestions about my story you can contact me at the email address in the story. Thank you)


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