My Subs fantasy

You tell me you want me to meet you, in a bar, you give me a time and command that I am not late. I do as instructed. Dressed as requested, I walk in, nervous and I order a drink. A glass of red wine, no, a large glass of dry red. My heart is pounding, I?m anxious yet excited. My hands are shaking. You are late. But this is deliberate. I fidget awkwardly at the bar, trying to look calm but extremely self-conscious. You?re here, but I don?t know that. You stand back, take a seat, watching, drinking in my vulnerability. I still don?t know you are here but I don?t look around, I?m too nervous, I just sip my drink and wait. You sit back relishing in my apprehension, waiting for me to finish my drink as you smile to yourself. You study my form, my mannerisms and my anxiety, it pleases you.

I finish my drink, probably too quickly to quantify classy, still alone and awkward at the bar. This is your moment. You walk up behind me, quite close, but don't let me know you are there. I?m aware of the presence of someone behind me but I don't know it's you and I don't turn around. You order a drink. Whiskey. ?And a dry red wine for the ?lady?? I hear you, that strong, powerful, sexy, slightly northern well-spoken voice and I know instantly that it?s you. My heart beats harder and faster, the hair on the back of my neck stands up and I?m covered in Goosebumps, I feel my clit swell with anticipation and my nipples harden. But you lean over and tell me that I am not to turn around. You smell nice. I thank you for the drink but you tell me not to speak. You stay behind me, even more aware of my unease and my restlessness. You touch my back, discretely, a firm hand slowly but firmly holding my waist. I can?t help but flinch as you comment to me that you feel my nervousness, still not permitting me to turn around or speak. I sit in silence as I feel the warmth of your body behind me, I can almost feel your breath on my neck. You acknowledge my obvious apprehension but talk to me. You ask if I am ok, I nod. You ask if I want to continue, I nod again. I?m astounded at the power and authority in your voice. I knew your ?role?, I knew what to expect but still I am taken aback. You tell me I must follow every instruction. I breathe deeply and you hear the shakiness and you feel the fear. You love it. I become aware of a deep ache in my pussy, an eagerness to be touched but I try to ignore it. You tell me to finish my drink and I feel your eyes bearing into me as you finish yours. You tell me to stand. I do, but instantly my knees feel wobbly and I regret the stiletto boots. I adjust my skirt, take a deep breath and try to exude composure, you are still behind me and you whisper that I am still not to turn and look at you. You take my arm, your grip is firm and sure but it?s not for authority. It?s gentlemanly, almost caring, reassuring and stabilising but still I am almost in a panic. I have no idea what?s next. You lead me from the bar to outside. The cold air hits my face and again I take a deep breath. My fear is rising and you know this. You tell me to look down as I walk. I?m almost grateful for this as I can be sure of my footing but as you walk next to me I also see your shoes. Clearly expensive. Perhaps Italian leather? Very smart with well pressed trousers. I'd expected big boots. I?m quietly intrigued but just walk. You tell me to stop. It?s dark but quite well lit. You come back behind me as I stand motionless. You kiss my neck and I feel smooth cold fabric slinking around my neck, through my fingers, and over my face. A blindfold. You tell me to close my eyes and you tie it tightly over them. You finish tying and lay your hands on my shoulders. Your touch is firm and confident but you do not speak. I?m actually terrified now. My heart is pounding hard and my breathing is fast and shallow. The fear is taking over a bit. I am fighting the need to cry but I can feel that my eyes are stinging and my throat tightens as I fight the tears. I hear a car door open and you usher me in. It?s the driver side but you have put me in the back. I can smell leather. Leather seats? Nice. But I feel the warmth of something round my wrists. Cuffs. Leather cuffs. I think they are new, the leather is rigid and hard. You buckle them and I can no longer fight fear. I try to stifle a whimper and hope so much that you didn?t notice. You buckle the cuffs quite tightly around my wrists and I feel you clip them together. I?m trying not to let the fear take over and I wonder if you did notice the whimper. You ask if I am ok and I manage a little nod. You take my face in your hands and gently kiss my forehead. I take that as a little reassurance. So you did notice? Was that little kiss meant to reassure me? You don?t speak but get in the car and drive. Classical music plays quite loud. You still do not speak. I take the opportunity to try and regulate my breathing, compose myself, and wonder what is next.

I?ve lost all concept of time, I?ve no idea how long we?ve been in the car. Not really that long but the drive is smooth and comfortable. I?m still anxious, frightened as the car stops and falls quiet. We sit, in silence for a few minutes before I hear you get out and come and open my door. You take my arm and once again the cold air hits me. I?ve no idea where we are but it?s quiet. You remove the blindfold and tell me once again to look at the floor. I do as you say but lift my bound wrists so I can make a somewhat pathetic attempt to try and correct my tear stained, smudged eye make-up. I hope I don?t look too bad as I realise that as yet, you?ve actually not seen me either. Not properly. I feel slightly embarrassed that the make-up I so carefully applied to achieve a sultry smouldering look could well be a complete mess and I have no opportunity to check or correct it. It?s dark though and my head is down. Perhaps I will get the opportunity to sort this. But suddenly, reality strikes back. Hard. Make-up is a mere minor detail. I?ve no idea where we are, you are leading me into a building I have had no opportunity to identify. Fear returns. I feel sick, my hands are clammy as I wring them together. I?m not feeling excited any more. I?m wishing I changed my mind. I?m desperately hoping you give me a chance to back out. I?m still looking at my feet as I walk but the sight goes blurry. Blurred by tears that begin to fill my eyes once more. The panic I feel is almost unbearable. I consider asking, pleading for you to just take me back but half fear the consequences of such words. We are inside, it?s warm but feels spacious. I think it?s a hotel. You lead me through doors and down corridors until we stop. I hear the little buzz of a key card in a door as it unlocks. Definitely a hotel. You lead me into the room and unclip the cuffs, but you don?t remove them. You slide my jacket off my shoulders. I?m shaking. Wishing so much I had asked for you to take me back. You tell me to close my eyes and I stand still as you circle me. For the first time, I can hear you breathing. It sounds strong and confident. A definite reflection of my perceptions. I can smell you. More than before, a strong, robust, masculine fragrance. Again, clearly expensive and I have a brief, fleeting thought that I quite like it. It makes me feel that you?re real, human, even sensitive but then I decide that I am simply trying to rationalise what is going on here and allay my own fears. The ache is back, more noticeable now. It?s hard to ignore.

I?m still standing, motionless, eyes closed but everything has gone quiet. I know you?re here but I can?t hear you pacing any more. Where are you? I don?t think you?re doing anything in particular as I can?t hear anything. You aren?t speaking but your scent lingers. I use this time again to try and calm myself, persuade myself that it will be ok. I have a mental conversation with my inner self. I tell myself to enjoy this. This is what I?ve always dreamed of, what I?ve always wanted; the deep, dark, very dark fear of a sexual situation completely beyond my control. The feeling of absolute powerlessness, to be at the mercy of a controller. Yes, this is my dream, but somehow the reality feels strange. I?m still not comfortable with the feeling of terror inside me. I focus on my fear for a minute, resolving to try to submit to it. Savour it. Remember it. Enjoy it. I take a deep, long, slow breath and hope it isn?t too obvious as I suspect you are watching me. I?m OK, I think. Perhaps this juncture had a purpose? Perhaps I used it wisely, as you had intended? Perhaps I should afford you the credit of knowing exactly what you are doing outside of the messaging situation. I hear music. Classical, again. It?s soothing, not too loud. So I decide to conclude my ponderings with the final realisation that I have already laid myself bare to you, you do know me. And I've come to know you. I've trusted you with many things already.

You tell me to open my eyes. I do so, blinking a little as I adjust to the light. It?s not that bright, dim side lights I think but never mind that. There you are, sitting in front of me, legs crossed. A very smart suit and perfectly co-ordinated tie. You are looking at me, expressionless but our eyes meet for the first time. Goosebumps creep over my skin, my nipples harden once more and my pussy aches to be toyed. I wonder if you feel similar. Your eyes are dark, intriguing eyes with what I perceive to be a dark mischief dancing in them. You look so much better in the flesh. Classy, distinguished and authoritarian looking. Handsome. And really fucking hot.
You tell me to remove my clothes, all of them. I begin to do as instructed, unbuttoning my top. You watch me intently. It dawns on me that I didn?t hesitate to comply. Wow, you really have captured my every fibre. Here I am, getting my clothes off, exposing myself in every possible way and I feel strangely comfortable with this. I acknowledge to myself that this is so completely unlike me and briefly question what the hell I am doing. Anxiety creeps back as I become more exposed. My vulnerability must be so evident. I think logistics for a second. I want to sit on the bed to remove my boots safely but daren?t ask. I recall the 2 glasses of wine and decide to concentrate hard on getting this right without looking like a complete idiot. Furthermore I actually want to make this look vaguely erotic and not like I?m some clumsy drunkard. I bend over slowly, still facing you, unzip my boots and slowly step out of them placing them to the side of me. I let my unbuttoned blouse slide from my shoulders. I ease it past the cuffs still around my wrists. Doing so gives me a bit of a reality check. The anxiety turns to embarrassment as I am reminded of the potential state of my make-up. I accept that I have no ability to change this at the moment so I should accept it and continue. I lay my blouse on the bed. I reach behind me and unzip my skirt, slowly easing it over my hips and allowing it to fall to the floor. I step out of it, pick it up and put it with my blouse. I lift my head and stand up straight to look at you. I suppose a conscious effort to exude confidence you encouraged me to have. In looking at you though, you remain expressionless. You remain mysterious and give nothing away. Am I hideous? Do you like what you see? Do I repulse you? You always said I was gorgeous to you. Yet you maintain such exemplary control. My thinking has inadvertently turned into a pause. I didn?t mean it to. I was just trying to gain some kind of insight from your face. But the pause has not pleased you. You don?t speak but give me a commanding nod which jogs me back to my task. I reach to my back and undo my bra, consciously reminding myself not to hunch my shoulders, not to hide what I have, be confident. I am feeling more vulnerable now, the fear is back and I am aware of my hands shaking. I try to ignore it but am certain you can see my fear. I almost hurriedly start to remove my thong but you command I stop. ?Slowly? you demand as I become aware of those goosebumps once again. I inch the thong over my hips and as I do so, I become aware of how sensitive I am. My pussy is wet, almost in pain, I briefly close my eyes as I slide the thong down my legs caressing my thighs as Ido. Slowly, consciously trying to make this look seductive. I want to please you. I want to turn you on but you give nothing away. I throw the thong on the growing pile of clothes, a short second to acknowledge how the fear has turned me on. I?m confused by this. It?s not logical to be turned on by fear. As I go to slowly slide the stockings down my legs I consider how it is that my brain permits absolute terror to be linked so well to sexual desire. The concept perplexes me. Again, you command I stop. ?Turn around, legs apart?. I do as you ask before bending over. Perfectly and slowly exposing the pink glistening folds my soft, wet pussy. I very slowly remove the stockings but hold my position so you can examine and admire the intimacy I am surrendering to you, my sir. Eventually, you tell me to stand, and turn. It suddenly occurs to me that posture is vital now. I have nothing to disguise the imperfections, so I have no choice but to use my stature to the best of my ability. I breathe in a little, put my shoulders back and stand tall, once again meeting your gaze. But still I see nothing. I stand there, still and wait as you eye my body all over. I accept it now, you?ve seen it all. I?m still scared, I still have no idea of your intentions but there is a little feeling of excitement. I will you to say something, give some instruction, give me some task. Please. Allow me some way to distract myself from my unease. Nothing. You just look at me, feeding on my uncertainty and my fear. I take stock for a minute. You continue to examine my form, drinking in my unease.

Eventually, you take a deep breath and exhale slowly. You tell me to kneel on the bed, in the middle, facing the room. Immediately I do as you say, my position leaves me almost facing you but you are slightly to my left. I note a small hold all on the floor, just to the side of the bed and wonder innocently if you?re going to be staying overnight. You stand slowly and take off your jacket carefully placing it on a hanger on the rail and taking care to smooth the fabric and make sure its hanging ?just right?. I watch you, intrigued as you remove car keys and phone from your trouser pocket and place them on the side. You remove cufflinks and turn your shirt cuffs back a little. You are orderly, meticulous and controlled but this comes as no surprise. You collect the pile of clothes I have left on the bed and place them carefully on a shelf by the hanging rail. The flood of anticipation and nervousness is back. I?m still a little scared, I?m still shaking and my hands are once again clammy. My clit is pulsing and my pussy is eager. You are depriving my senses and very cleverly. I feel frustrated but equally vulnerable. You walk over and pick up the hold all, place it on the chair where you once sat and open the zip. You remove some rope, a thick leather collar, some clips and some metal tubing. My heart instantly pounds hard, my clit is dancing and I can feel my wetness. Fear has all but evaporated and been taken over by pure excitement. I still feel exposed as you lay your tools along the end of the bed in front of me. You give me a slight grin as you reach over and push a stray bit of hair from my face. Almost urging me to watch your every move just to increase the anticipation. It?s almost like a spell, I?m mesmerised by your control over me with such few words. You stand, in front of me at the end of the bed and begin interlocking the pieces of metal tube. It has silver rings on it and it quite long when complete. I wonder what the hell you are planning to do with it. You lay the length back down and kneel on the bed next to me, inching closer to me. I stay still but my breathing gets heavier. My heart pounds harder and I wonder what you are going to do. You trace a finger down the side of my face, over my throat and down, tracing the outline of my nipple before squeezing it hard. I gasp at the change in sensation and already a wave of orgasm is building inside me. The pleasure is audible to you. You ask me if I liked that and I manage a breathy ?yes? but almost instantly you recoil in horror. You are not pleased. I wonder what I did for such a reaction but I don?t have to wait long before you tell me in a firm, almost angry voice that when I am asked to speak I MUST address you correctly. You command that ?Yes Sir? is the desired response. I am about to respond properly, to correct my wrongdoing but before I am able, I feel pain. You just slapped my breast. I wasn?t expecting that and I wasn?t ready. You grab my throat, firmly and reiterate the need for my utter compliance; this time I manage to respond. Properly. I wonder for a minute if it would be ok to point out that I actually love to be grabbed by the throat and that your example just then was nowhere near robust enough to meet my preference. I decide against the idea and conclude that you are probably just warming up anyway. The tingling, pain sensation is still there in my breast and I concentrate for a minute deciding I actually quite like it. You kiss me. Properly, passionately, hard and I get the first hint that you're enjoying me. You reach over and collect the collar from the bed and secure it around my neck. You manage to find the perfect balance between not too tight and not too loose. I get a pang of that oh so familiar fear back and immediately feel the most vulnerable, childlike and exposed than I have ever done. You are so confident, sure and firm yet I am so na?ve. I feel almost exploited but it?s a weird feeling because it?s all the things which I have always craved. You stand up again and walk around the bed. You still do not speak and I still have no real idea of your intentions. You take off your tie and drape it carefully over your jacket. Then your shirt which you just as carefully hang. I try not to appear as though I am looking too intently at your torso but I am. You?re clearly strong and I like that. My nipples harden once more as I admire your form. That warm wave of almost orgasm flows through my pussy once more and I close my eyes to enjoy it. You still do not speak but slowly take off your trousers and socks, placing them neatly over the chair. Your thighs are firm and defined ? perhaps you cycle as a hobby. I ponder that thought but my eyes are drawn to your groin in your black shorts. I can?t help but notice through your shorts that your cock is not hard. Again I feel vulnerable and embarrassed as a fleeting thought passes that my body must repulse you. It?s been a long while since you asked me to undress, my body has been here, and exposed for some time and this has had no effect. You don?t allow me the time to be concerned about this as you instruct me lean forward, lay my head on the bed, looking to the side. I see you select your next tool, the rope, but you walk around behind me and I can no longer see you. It sounds as though you are unravelling the neatly wrapped bundle though. I feel you tugging and doing something with the collar, at the back and realise you are threading, knotting the rope according to your needs. Suddenly,out of nowhere, you slap my arse. I kind of expected it, pointing high in the air and ripe for that very purpose. It would have been hard to resist such an action. I gasp loudly but at the same time I wince in pain. That was some slap! But then there is another, and another. The pain increasing but my clit is loving it. The waves of pleasure course through me but my bum is tingling. You pick up the metal bar from the bed. I thought you were planning to attach the handcuffs to it but I was wrong. You choose some similar cuffs from the bag and begin buckling them to my ankles. A spreader bar. Of course. The ?butterfly? feeling in my stomach is intense, I try to just breathe normally but it?s hard. You tell me to lay my legs out, so I am face down, flat but with my face still to the side. ?Yes Sir? I whisper, and do as instructed. I can feel you securing the ankle cuffs to the bar and wonder why you only put certain things on the bed if you were going to want to use more? Was this to tease me? Did you not want to scare me? Intimidate me? I smile inwardly as I think ?it?s far too bloody late for that!!? This reminds me to think for a minute, assess the situation and evaluate my feelings. I lay still for a while, you are walking around the bed and I hear you doing something with the bag again. I can?t see though. I?m enjoying my vulnerability, I think. My whole body is in such a heightened state, a prolonged feeling of ?on the edgeness? I have never experienced before. I like it. I?m feeling erotic, sexy. The element of fear is very much still there, but it?s in the background now. Despite the uncertainty, I am starting to relax into this a little and convince myself to enjoy it. I wonder if this is evident to you. Your commanding voice demands that I draw my knees up and get on all fours. ?Yes Sir? but it?s slightly more awkward that I anticipated. I get there though with as much grace and elegance as I can manage. You are standing in front of me, your knees against the bed and you demand I look up at you. ?Yes Sir?. As I lift my head to make eye contact, you grab my hair and pull hard. It?s rough and it hurts. It makes me flinch but you just pull harder. I grimace as the pain sears over my scalp but you just pull my face into you. You press my face hard against your groin and that familiar wave of nearly orgasm goes through me again. I try to gasp but I can?t. I can barely breathe as you pull my hair burying my face in your shorts hard. Now I notice, I can feel the heat of your swelling penis. The feeling as it hardens next to my face. You release your grip on my hair slightly and I am almost overwhelmed with the urge to grab you with my hands, pull down your shorts and take your whole length into my mouth. I can hear your breathing change. It?s faster and I realise it?s only the second time I have detected any hint of desire from you. It turns me on massively. You pull away from my face and I catch a glimpse of the beautiful bulge in your shorts. This pleases me. Greatly. You reach behind you and pick something up from the table. My stomach flips as I realise what it is. A hook. You pull at my hair again as you force the ball into my mouth. I lick it, suck it and soak it with my saliva, the anticipation of its purpose making me moan with desire. You take the hook from my mouth and again kneel on the bed. As if to signify the beginning of your task, you slap my arse hard, a little cry in pain leaves my mouth and again the tingling remains. You spread my arse wide dribbling your own saliva onto me. Taking time to watch it run over my skin. You gently put a finger inside me, then two, massaging, probing, making sure my tight hole is ready to welcome your weapon of choice. I feel the cold, hard steel as you press it into me, feeding it in until it settles in its perfect position. I can take no more. My arms are shaking, buckling. My legs are weak. I gasp and moan as my body is racked with orgasm. Magnified entirely by the multitude of nearly orgasms you?ve inflicted upon me. I can?t catch my breath. You don?t seem impressed. Perhaps I was supposed to exhibit better control of my body. Was I meant to ask permission to indulge in mind shattering orgasm? You say nothing to me but I perceive from the look on your face that I should apologise. ?Sorry Sir? I mutter breathlessly as I try desperately to compose myself. You move further round behind me. I feel more exposed than ever as my legs are locked apart. You kneel between my legs pressing your hard penis against my wet pussy but you don?t enter me. You?re teasing me? You lean forward and grab the ropes attached to the collar and pull them towards you, working the ends of the rope into the loop on the hook. Every tiny movement of the hook inside me is taking me back to the intense orgasm I just experienced but I try hopelessly to mask my body?s reaction. You come back round beside me and pull upwards on the rope, admiring your work which in turn effects both the hook and the collar. Again I moan with pleasure.

You tell me you want me to move to the floor. I don?t question you but wonder exactly how I am going to achieve this. Before I make any positive conclusions, you command that I lay down, on my front. ?Yes Sir? and I do as you say. You pull hard on the bar between my ankles dragging me to the edge of the bed where you pull on my shoulders to help me stand. My Knees are wobbly, my skin is tender, my movements triggering more effects from the hook deep within me. You tell me to kneel on the floor. You are in front of me, gently stroking your length. Again you grab my hair and command that I open my mouth to take your cock. I do so, as instructed and you thrust your hips forward. I try to take control of this a little, holding you back a bit so I can regulate the force and the speed in which you bury your length in my mouth but this angers you. You throw my hand away from your groin and demand I stop. I can?t stop, it?s like a reflex action and my hand returns again. You push it away again and slap my face as you continue to thrust your cock in my mouth, commanding I do not do that again. You?re almost choking me, it?s a natural reaction to defend and so my hand comes up again. You pull out of my mouth and I almost whimper ?Sorry Sir, Sorry Sir, SorrySir?. It?s too late, you reach behind me and give a sudden tug on the rope. This time it is not so pleasant. There is anger in your movement. You?re punishing me. I think it worked as I let out a yelp of emphatic discomfort. You lean down further and clip the handcuffs into the loop on the hook. Now I feel frightened. I can?t move as I risk hurting myself with the hook. But how do I stay still? You stand back up and grab my hair once more, demand I open my mouth and again thrust your length in. You're a little less vigourous this time. I have the opportunity to breathe and find a comfortable rhythm in sucking, licking and teasing your cock. But you don't allow this for long, you speed up a little pushing deeper. I gag but try hard to take all of you right back into my throat. I have a brief thought that I've never been able to do that and how impressed I would be if I can actually do this. You keep thrusting, I keep gagging. The tears are stinging my eyes, my makeup must look horrific but I also crave that humiliation a bit. My saliva is completely coating your whole penis and it dribbles down my chin. My arms squirm which shocks me into remembering I really need to try and keep still. You're still holding my hair in your clenched fists as you pull out of my mouth. You let go and run your fingers through my hair in a bid to flatten it down a bit. You tell me you want me to stand and use your strength to lift me. I'm facing you. My face is wet with tears, saliva and precum. I suddenly feel cold and I shiver. You look at my face and I wonder what you could possibly be thinking. I must be a mess but you brush hair from off my face and simply say ?good girl?. I feel accomplished. Validated. You walk around me and unclip the cuffs from the loop. You remove the bar from my ankles and the collar from my neck. You tell me to turn around and bend over the bed. ?Yes Sir?and I do as you say. I feel drained. You slowly remove the hook and suddenly I feel free again. As if to reward me, you slowly slide your cock into my aching pussy, almost gently while your firm hands grip my hips. You start to go faster, pounding against me with a magnificent force. You feel sensational and I can feel orgasm building inside me again. This time try hard to stifle my moans as you didn't seem too happy last time. I think I've done quite well although I think the uncontrollable shaking is a giveaway. You pull out of me, soaked in my juices. You pause for a little while, still holding my hips then once more I am racked in pain as you slap my glowing arse once more. I wonder if you just like this or if I have done something wrong again. I wince in pain as two more slaps come down on me. But then you rub my skin as if to soothe the burning, tingling you created. I'm still there, bending over the bed as I feel you press your wet cock into my arse. The hook clearly had an effect and I gasp as you slowly push further and further. I want for you to build a rhythm but you do not. You go slowly at first, savouring the tightness of my arse around your cock. You pause. I can feel you throbbing and pulsing inside me and I like it. But before I concentrate too much you pull out of me. I hear you sigh in delight at the image of my gaping arse, almost inviting you to bury into it again. You do. Several times and I can tell that you love it. My legs are shaking and at times they buckle a little. I try to stay still but it's getting harder. Eventually, you tell me to lay on my back and I'm grateful for this opportunity. I try to make sense of everything I am feeling. I can't. Too much to process. Totally overstimulated. My skin is sensitive but when I think of the bucket list which has been achieved in the last few hours I get that familiar wave of ?nearly there? again. You appear to have read my mind as you instruct me to touch myself. I close my eyes and slide my right hand to my clit and my left hand to my breast. My body writhes until you demand I open my eyes and watch you. I continue but as I do, I watch you pleasure yourself. Gripping your cock hard and moving your hand rhythmically. You move around the bed and stand beside me. You tell me to bring myself to that point when I need to explode but I have to tell you. ?Yes Sir?. Your breathing changes a little. How the actual fuck do you maintain such control and restraint? I feel myself reaching an explosive climax. ?Now Sir, it's happening now, Yes Sir?. My body convulses with orgasm as you slow your own movements. You tell me to open my mouth. You lean into me and sigh heavily as your hot thick cum pulses over my face and into my mouth. You taste amazing as I realise my body is still flinching at my latest orgasm. I pretty much collapse. My whole body is sensitive and you lay on the bed beside me for a minute. You don't touch me. Or talk to me. I wonder what I am supposed to do now. The vulnerable exposed feelings are flooding back. I suddenly feel anxious again as you sit up on the bed. Am I allowed to speak now? You don't speak but walk to the bathroom and turn on the shower. I hear it running and wonder what you want to do to me next. You reappear and tell me to get in. I'm half grateful, half anxious but I stand up, I'm shaky and exhausted as I mutter a ?yes Sir? as I walk past you. I walk into the bathroom and note some very opulent shower products on the side of the bath. These aren't the nasty freebies you get in hotels. You've prepared for this. You've ?catered? for me. I'm eternally grateful for this. You don't follow me in but close the door to allow me privacy. I sit on the edge of the bath for a short time unbuckling the cuffs from my wrists and ankles. I lay them gently on the vanity and rub my wrists. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I am horrified. What must you think of me. I step into the hot shower. Heavenly. I just stand there under the flow of warm water trying to ponder the events. I can't. My head is consumed with what now. I wonder and try hard to recall all the things I've read. I've never done anything like this before. In so many ways. The fear and anxiety creep back as I lather expensive smelling shower mousse over my body. I decide I've spent far too long in the shower now and I should stop with the delay tactics. I wrap a towel round me and another round my head. I wander out of the bathroom, vulnerability and coyness written all over my face. You smile at me and ask if I am ok. I put my head down as I nod. I perch on the edge of the bed and you come behind me and wrap those strong arms around me. You kiss my neck. Then get up and go in the bathroom. I'm still there in a towel when you come out, showered and fresh looking but you catch me trying to glimpse at the redness of my bum in the mirror. Again, you've planned for this as you have a tube of something in your hand. You instruct me to lay on the bed. ?Yes Sir? but you gently correct me. You tell me that the ?scenario? is over and I don't have to keep calling you ?Sir? right now. You gently rub some cream or something into my bum and I realise it's still stinging a bit but your touch is caring, it's gentle and I am grateful for this. You ask if I am ok and I nod. I'm exhausted. You lay down with me, holding me tight, I feel like crying but I manage to bury it as you whisper in my ear. ?My baby, my princess?