Meeting My On-Line Sub
Chapter 1

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Mult, Heterosexual, Cheating, Slut Wife, Cuckold, BDSM, DomSub, MaleDom, Spanking, Light Bond, Humiliation, Gang Bang, Group Sex, Orgy, White Female, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Fisting, Sex Toys, Cream Pie, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Size,

Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A Master finally meets his on-line submissive for a weekend.

I heard the knock on my hotel room door and I knew it was her. I didn't answer it right away, I wanted her to wait, not knowing what would happen. When I opened the door I saw her standing in the hallway, wearing the raincoat like I ordered. I knew that she had nothing on underneath. She's tied the scarf around her eyes, blindfolding herself, just as my e-mail had instructed her.

She was nervous, I could see that. She was also excited as I slowly walked all the way around her, not making a sound, except for my socks on the rich carpet; not touching her either. There would be a lot of touching in just a few minutes, no need to rush it now.

I could feel my cock throbbing in my pants and I fought the urge to touch myself, or to have her touch me.

She drew in her breath sharply at my first touch, the dog collar that I pushed over the top of her head so that it hung around her neck. The collar was made of links of chain connected together, designed for a large dog. She expected the click of the leash, and I didn't disappoint her. Later I'd lead her by that leash into the party upstairs, but not yet. This time was for me alone.

I whispered into her ear, softly. "If you're ready to go through with this Christy, you must take off your raincoat. You must show yourself to me. Otherwise, you must leave."

I watched, my heart pounding in my chest, as she undid the buttons one at a time, finally shrugging the raincoat off her bare shoulders. She was standing naked, the scarf around her eyes, black high-heel shoes on her feet, and nothing else.

My hands were on her shoulders pushing her down so that she was kneeling on the hotel carpet, then onto her hands and knees. I could feel her shaking now, both from excitement and from embarrassment and shame. She and I both knew that somebody could come along at any moment. A door could open. She'd be exposed, naked on her hands and knees, her breasts pointing to the carpet, her pussy dripping.

As I tugged on the leash she started to crawl though the open door into my room; I carried her small suitcase. She didn't know all that the evening held in store for her.

I met Christy on-line. She'd responded to one of my stories, telling me that she was excited by the idea of having a Master, of being controlled, humiliated, used sexually. We sent e-mails back and forth for more than two months before I told her that I would be in her town on business and that she was to meet me at the hotel on Friday evening. I told her that she would be mine until Sunday afternoon.

She wrote back, asking about her husband. What should she say to him, what excuse should she use? My return e-mail told her that I didn't really care what she told him, only that I'd allow her 15 minutes on Saturday to make any phone calls that she needed to make. Other than for that 15 minutes, she was mine.

Then I waited; there was nothing else to do. The day before my flight left I received the last e-mail, the one asking for instructions.

My flight had actually arrived late Thursday evening so I had all day Friday to set things up. It almost wasn't enough time. I had picked my hotel carefully, using the Internet so that I was close to a hardware store, and one of the large discount stores. There were many things that I needed, that I knew I would have trouble getting through security. In addition, I had shipped a box overnight to myself at the hotel. The box contained those things I didn't want to go looking for and yet I wanted to have.

Christy was afraid of pain, and I had promised her that she wouldn't be permanently marketed. I had also told her that, if her husband looked closely on Sunday night, she's have temporary marks from the weekend. She'd never tried bondage with another person but had such a fascination that she'd tied herself up several times, and loved it. I had promised her that she'd be treated like the slut she was.

Christy is in her mid-30's with no children. She'd made sure I knew that she was a little overweight, I had assured her that I simply couldn't care less about her weight, it held no importance to me. Her breasts are on the small side, but more than large enough to wrap a rope around. Her hips are somewhat broad, her butt full. Her husband is a pastor at some holy-roller church. Now that I found interesting! I never did find out what story she told him and I didn't listening in on the phone conversation on Saturday.

She'd told me in her e-mails that she masturbated at least once a day, often more than that, sometimes much more. She told me how she'd even awoken in the middle of the night on the edge of orgasm, and had had to sneak out of bed and into the bathroom to finish herself off.

She told me how she'd been hanging some clothing in the basement of their house, a few items that couldn't go in the dryer, and how the sight of the snap-type clothespins had excited her. How she'd taken off her housedress, snapped clothespins on both her nipples, and then masturbated standing up, watching them jump as she'd cum, enjoying the ache in her breasts.

I tugged on Christy's leash, stopping her crawl into the hotel room, actually a suite that I couldn't afford. My hand started touching her at her knee, next to the floor, slowly running the palm of my hand up the inside of her thigh, toward her black, very furry, pussy. I could feel her shaking as my hand moved. A few inches below her pussy I felt the first wetness on her thigh.

"Beg me to touch your slut cunt, Christy," I ordered her as my hand caressed the wetness on her thigh.

Several long seconds passed as Christy panted. Her tongue snaked out of her mouth to lick her lips before she whispered, "please touch my slut cu... cu... cunt, Master."

I could hear the "ooohhhhh" as my hand caressed her very wet, soggy pussy. I moved my dripping hand to her mouth and ordered her to clean her disgusting cunt juice while I told her the rules for the weekend.

She sucked and licked enthusiastically at my hand, her very remaining inhibitions falling away as I told her the rules.

"Rule 1, you are mine until Sunday afternoon. My property to do with as I wish. If, at any time, you want me to stop you just have to say the word 'stop' and I will halt immediately. If you do say the word 'stop, ' you will also be expected to leave immediately. Do you understand that?"

Taking her mouth from my hand Christy murmured, "yes Master."

"Rule 2, you are a slut. You and I both know that, so for this weekend you only exist to be used by me, or anybody that I let use you.

Rule 3, you will do as commanded immediately.

Rule 4, you are not allowed to orgasm until I tell you that you can. You will eat what I tell you to eat, you will dress or not dress as I instruct."

"Oh god," she was licking my hand faster and faster as I talked.

As I finished, I ripped the blindfold from her face, watching her blink as she looked up at me. I keep my face stern. Her eyes were shinny, she was panting, and trying to swallow but her mouth seemed to be too dry.

I turned away from her and walked across the room leaving her on her hands and knees. I made myself a drink and sat on the luxurious couch.

"Crawl over here slut," I ordered.

Immediately Christy started to crawl, her smallish breasts flopping as she moved. Until she came to a stop in front of me.

"You're going to see a lot of strange cocks this weekend, whore. Start by taking mine out of my pants." I made no move to help her, just sipping my drink, as she reached for my belt.

She looked up at me, checking to make sure if it was all right for her to use her hands, I kept my expression the same. Her hands were shaking as she undid my belt, then my pants and zipper. I did move a little to help her pull my pants down. As she did, my erection sprang up, actually hitting her in the chin. She pulled back at first, then stared at my cock in astonishment.

Her eyes were wide, her mouth open as she reached for my erection, wrapping her soft hand around it. I let her touch it for a minute before saying, "did I order you to touch my cock slut?"

Immediately her hand was withdrawn. "No Master, I'm sorry Master." But her eyes didn't look anywhere else. My cock is not huge, 7 1/2 inches long, a nice thickness, nothing unusual.

"I'm sure a whore like you has seen a hard-on before," I said.

"Yes Master. But my husband's is so much smaller. Please may I touch it?" now she was looking up at me, her face eager.

"Have you ever sucked your husband's cock?" I asked her.

"No Master," she said. "He thinks its evil."

I stood up and walked behind her, taking off my pants and shoes as I went. She flinched when the handcuffs snapped onto her wrists, securing her hands behind her back. I returned to the couch, sitting down in front of her, my erection almost too hard to move.

"Suck it bitch," I ordered her.

She leaned forward, her pink tongue extended, to lick the purple head of my hard cock. At her first taste she moaned, then engulfed the head of my cock with her lips. Soon she was sucking me in and out of her mouth, then running her tongue over the length of my prick, obviously enjoying her first taste of pre-cum.

I bent forward, taking her hard nipples between my forefinger and thumb, pinching them before squeezing her breasts. This caused her to lick and suck with even more enthusiasm, too much enthusiasm in fact. I pushed her away and stood again. Her eyes didn't leave my cock, she licked her lips wanting more.

"I know you liked that slut," I said. "Tell me how you loved it."

"I love your ccc cock, Master," she said. "Please let me suck you again Master. Ppplease," she begged.

I directed Christy to get on her feet. She struggled a little because of the handcuffs, but finally she was walking docilely behind me as I led her by the leash into the master bedroom. Rope and a rubber flogger where left carefully on the chair next to the bed. I know that she saw them as we walked, and they had their intended effect, I could feel her trembling through the leash.

I directed her to sit on the bed, her knees drawn up so that her feet were flat on the cover, and I started with the rope. First securing her cafes to her thighs so that her legs would stay bent, then running a rope from her thighs to the headboard so that her legs would also be spread giving me unrestricted access to her pussy.

The white bedspread was turning dark under her as her pussy juice streamed from her cunt. I wrapped another rope around her middle, and then in a figure 8 over her breasts, pulling the rope tight, but not too tight. I considered using the gag that I had had shipped but decided against it. I was enjoying the constant moans she was making.

The vibrator was average in size, and slipped inside her cunt with ease. "I'm going to get ready now slut," I told her as I turned it on. "But remember, no cumming."

"Ooohhhhhh," was her only response. I left the room, pausing in the doorway to the bathroom to look back at her sitting on the bed, bound so that she couldn't move, the sound of the vibrator humming in her pussy accompanied by her constant moaning. It would take a while for my cock to soften enough for me to get dressed, but I was in no hurry. We had plenty of time.

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