It all began so simple - an ad for a phonesex company.
An image, a promotional blurb a resume of filth and of kink. A desire that was contained in her grey eyes - was that a wall of restraint or torturous gates keeping him out?
Then she sent him a text/sext--she commanded 'I want to talk to you'.. 'I want you to stroke for me'.. 'Isn't it time you gave up control?'..
His heart pounding so strongly was it fear or lust?
Imagining all of dark fantasies that had lingered for many years before....
Pictures imagined and expectations created...
He dialed the phone...igniting ignition for his rocket ship.
She answered with "Hello, who is this?"
She has everything prepared, like an exquisite execution of a blueprint. She needed no introduction...
he gave her a name...a name to be called with trembling and trepidation in his voice...
'Why are you shaking pet? ', 'Are you afraid? '
he cannot answer...between his raging erection and her low calm tone he's slipping under into subspace.
'I feel so funny...' he says, unable to formulate what he's feeling.
'That's normal, that's subspace...just savor it." the Mistress reassures.
She uses him as her play thing as long as she wishes...all night long. He wonders if it's sexually exciting for her too, but he dare not ask.
He is her slave for the moment. She can have him any way she could imagine.
He could spend hours between her legs; at her feet; at her whims.
'Get on your knees, pet and wait.'
She speaks of edging, of control and of chastity.
She explains as a pet nothing is his.
His cock, his time and his wallet are all hers to do with as she will.
It feels as if months had gone by in his mind until the next time he can speak to The One..
She asks him if he wants to stay, to live in her world forever? She gives him assignments to soothe his sub-frenzy... But before he can think to answer; She has vanished...she now dwells deep in the recesses of his mind as well as his loins...
To be continued....
