Welcome to San Francisco!

This was it. If I was going to turn back, now was the time.

Ha! Who was I kidding? I had been working towards this encounter for a year. I wasn’t going to turn back now.

Susanna. That wasn’t the name most of her fans knew her by; I was one of the privileged few who knew her real name. That was a closely guarded secret. She had a sensitive job, a career that could be derailed if her “hobby” should be disclosed.

I’m Adam Stone, currently on vacation from my job as a programmer in Seattle; whether that remained true, the next couple of weeks would reveal.

I have a guilty secret. Oh, it’s not all that nasty; I enjoy reading erotic stories online. Why do I keep it secret? I can’t say; it’s not like my family and friends are so conservative; it is what it is.

About a year-and-a-half ago, I was on my favorite site browsing the Lesbian stories. That’s right, a straight guy reading Lesbian stories. Guys might chuckle at that, but why kid ourselves? Most, if not all, straight guys find lesbian sex as much of a turn-on as they find gay sex a turn-off.

I opened up the New Stories, and right at the top was one by an author new to me. She called herself Verna Lake.

I decided to check it out, and was blown away. Her story was hot, all right, but that, by itself wasn’t unusual; this was an erotic site, after all. The thing that set her story apart was the quality of the writing, both technically, and her ability to create believable plots, and characters who seemed real.

The story was just a little longer than what I usually read, five pages instead of two or three, but once I started, I couldn’t put it down. I was soon watching for new stories every morning, just about always posting positive comments, but one day there was a story that just didn’t work for me, and I posted a quite negative comment.

As soon as I hit enter, I wanted to pull it back, as it was much harsher than I intended, but the die was cast.

Later that day my Email chimed, and there was a message from Verna. It took me a while to gather my courage to open it, I was sure she was going to rip me a new asshole, tell me to fuck off.

I was pleasantly surprised to see that she understood where I was coming from, and revealed some of her thinking. She even sent me parts of an earlier draft that had been left out.

“Damn,” I wrote back, “I wish you had left these in. They really make the story work for me.”

She thanked me for my thoughts, and things pretty much went back to normal, except that when something didn’t work for me, I’d email rather than comment.

Sometimes she’d see my point, sometimes she’d disagree, but would patiently explain her thoughts. Most of the time we’d come to some sort of agreement, sometimes just agreeing to disagree.

Our friendship grew beyond the bounds of the story site. It was around this time that I learned her real name, Susanna. We told each other about our lives and our families. We even exchanged photos. I was stunned by her beauty. Her hair was jet-black, long and straight. Her face was pale white, almost translucent.

I, on the other hand, am a typical average white male, nothing to distinguish me from 90% of the other drones in the office, but when I sent Susanna a photo, she said that I was handsome. I thought it was bullshit, but I appreciated the thought.

I certainly had my fantasies of us getting together, we were close in age and both single, but I was realistic. She was way out of my league. She could walk through a Hollywood party with all those actresses and models and pick out any man she wanted. I, on the other hand, could walk through a crowded room and nobody would even notice that I was there unless I stepped on someone’s foot. Besides, she was in San Francisco and I was in Seattle. Not exactly the other side of the world, but not neighbors, either.

Life went on, our banter became a little more flirtatious, even some terms of endearment being dropped in, and I enjoyed our friendship.

One day, it had been a while since she posted anything, so I sent her an email.

“Hi, Susanna, what’s up? I haven’t seen anything new from you in a while.”

I received an invitation from Susanna to an online chat. I was thrilled, I was going to be able to “talk” to my friend!

“Oh, Adam, I’m so sorry! I’ve been writing in a new category. I thought that I had told you.”

“No problem. What category have you been writing in?”

It seemed to take a little longer than I would have expected for her reply to appear.

“BDSM,” she said.

“BDSM? You mean like whips and chains?” I was a little shocked, Susanna had always seemed so kind and gentle. I knew these were just stories, but I couldn’t wrap my head around her having any interest in that area.

“Nothing that extreme. More like a Dom/sub relationship, where one person is in control.”

For some reason I felt a shiver of excitement run through me. I didn’t know why; I’d never had any interest in that sort of a thing before.

“Adam, are you there?”

I didn’t realize that I had drifted off.

“Yes, Susanna, I’m here. I was just a little taken aback, that’s all.”

“Why don’t you check them out, let me know what you think.”

“Yes, I’ll do that. Talk to you later.”

“Later.”

I sat back and let out a big breath I didn’t even realize I had been holding, then brought up a list of Susanna’s stories. Sure enough, there were three stories listed in the BDSM category.

In each of the stories the main character was named Verna, just like her ID, and she was a dominatrix. In one story her sub was a woman. I was never aware of Susanna having any interest in women, despite her writing in the Lesbian category, but it WAS just a story, after all.

In the other two stories her subs were men. I’ve come across these kinds of stories in the past, but Susanna’s were so different, it was like night and day.

It was obvious that her character loved her subs, and they loved to worship her. There was no brutality, no strap-ons to use on the men or anything like that.

Her stories were so realistic that I wondered if they were written from life. That made me vaguely jealous, as if I wanted to be one of her subs. That really troubled me, as I always thought of myself as strong and independent, certainly not a submissive. Yet, the thought of submitting to Susanna gave me a small thrill before I was able to suppress it.

Susanna started letting me read drafts of her stories, and as with the first three, most were with male subs, and I found myself being drawn in more and more, resulting in many troubled dreams.

During a chat, I decided to bring things more into the open.

“Susanna, your stories seem so real. Are they drawn from your real life?”

After a brief delay she replied.

“Sort of.”

“Sort of? What does that mean?”

“Well, my stories aren’t describing real incidents, but are inspired by them.”

There it was. Now, how do I deal with it?

“Do you mean that you’re a dominatrix, for real?”

“No, but I sometimes like to play at being one, when I’m with the right partner.”

This time there was no denying it, my dick was getting harder.

I don’t know what I was thinking, but I typed, “That sounds interesting.”

“Would you like to see a picture?” she asked.

“Sure.”

There was a slight delay while the picture loaded, then there she was, in all her glory. She was wearing a tight, red bustier that was cut down to her navel, the cups pushed her breasts up and out, and were so small that the tops of her areola were peeking out.

She had on a tiny red thong, or G-string, (I couldn’t see the back), that was so skimpy that some of her bush was sticking out of the sides.

She was wearing thigh-high red boots with very high heels; they had to be at least four-inches if not five.

Her hair fell around her face and her lipstick was as red as her outfit.

I wasn’t sure if it was a smile or a sneer on her lips as she stood there with one hand on a hip and the other seemingly motioning me to approach.

My mind was blank as I was rubbing my cock through my pants, until several message tones snapped me out of it. There were several messages from Susanna.

“What do you think?”

“Pretty hot, eh?”

“Adam, are you there?”

“Adam, are you okay, you’re starting to worry me!”

“I’m sorry, Susanna, I sort of spaced out there for a minute. Yes, the picture was super-hot. I’ll bet it’s even hotter in person.” Shit, why did I say that? We had sort of teased about maybe meeting “someday,” but it never seemed very serious.

“Adam, are you sure you’re all right? You still seem kind of distant.”

“Yes, I’m okay, but I think I’m gonna sign off for now. I’ll ping you in the morning.”

“See that you do, Adam. I care about you, and you’re worrying me right now.”

“I will, Susanna. Good night.”

“Good night.”

What was happening to me? It was as if I was submitting to Susanna. Twice I almost called her Mistress! How could that be? Yes, we were friends, but how much did I really know about her? I decided that I needed a good night’s sleep to try to get my head on straight. It took me a while to fall asleep, but eventually I did.

I woke up feeling refreshed, but still a little conflicted by my reactions to seeing Susanna as a dominatrix.

When I fired up my laptop, I saw a message from Susanna wanting to talk to me. I resisted the urge to respond immediately, and made a cup of coffee on my Keurig. As soon as I had creamed and sugared it, I sat down at my kitchen table, stared at the screen and sipped at my coffee.

When I could delay no longer, I began to type.

“Good morning, Susanna.”

“Good morning, Adam,” she replied with just a short delay. “How are you doing today?”

How was I doing? That was the question that kept me awake so long the previous night.

“I’m okay,” I typed after a moment’s hesitation.

“It’s hard to tell in a text, but you don’t seem okay.”

I couldn’t respond.

“Adam, I’d like to ask you a personal question. Please don’t be offended.”

“You can ask me anything. I could never be offended by you,” I typed quickly.

“Adam, it seemed like ... oh, this is so hard. It seemed like you were feeling submissive, that you were thinking about submitting to me.”

There it was. There was no avoiding the question any longer. Whatever I said was likely to change my relationship with Susanna forever. Hopefully, there would still be a relationship.

“I don’t know, Susanna. I know that I’ve never felt at all submissive before, if anything I would have said that I had a dominant personality.

“When you told me about being a dominatrix, I felt excited, I even felt myself getting hard. I was conflicted. I certainly don’t believe that I’m a submissive, so I have to believe that it was you, but that doesn’t make sense either, you’ve never tried to assert yourself in any way. If anything, you’ve always treated me kindly and with respect.”

“Adam, one thing you should understand. In a healthy Dom/sub relationship there needs to be respect in both directions.

“Without respect, it is too easy for it to become an abusive relationship.”

There was a pause.

“Adam, I need some time to process this. I’m not abandoning you, but please give me some space. I’ll contact you when I’m ready.”

“Of course, Susanna.” There it was again, I almost typed Mistress.”

“Bye, Adam.”

“Bye,” I typed, and I was alone with my thoughts.

I couldn’t bring myself to go to the story site. I wasn’t sure how I would react if Susanna had posted a new story.

What I did do was masturbate when I went to bed, and as much as I tried to think of other things, my masturbatory fantasies kept coming back to my submitting to Susanna.

This both troubled and excited me. Would I, could I, actually submit to Mistress Susanna? “Mistress Susanna.” I had come close a few times in our chats, but this was the first time I had actually expressed it, even if it was only in my own thoughts.

Equally importantly, would she accept my submission, and how would it work, with her in San Francisco and me in Seattle?

Those were all questions for another day. I could only wait semi-patiently for Susanna, and tried to lose myself in my work.

After dinner on Friday, I was startled by the ping on my laptop. A message from Susanna.

With a mixture of anticipation and trepidation I clicked to open the chat window to find a message from Susanna.

“Adam, are you really interested in submission, or is this some strange fantasy?”

I really only had one answer.

“Yes. It frightens me a bit, but I am interested, but only in submitting to you.”

“Adam, as I told you, I have so far only played at Dom/sub games. Your interest has awakened something in me. I think that I would like to go beyond merely playing a game. I think that I would like to take you on as a submissive on a trial basis. If you’re still interested, reply ‘Yes, Mistress Susanna.’ I want to assure you that a refusal will not affect our friendship. We will still be friends if you refuse. I don’t want to pressure you, but this is a one-time offer. I value our friendship, and don’t want to be dithering back and forth. Will you submit to me, Adam?”

This was it, my one, and probably only, chance.

With more conviction than I really felt, I began typing.

“Yes, Mistress Susanna.”

After a brief pause, there was a new message.

“So be it. These are your initial instructions. There will be others. You will only address me as “Mistress,” or “Mistress Susanna.” Failure to obey this rule will be a time in exile. Do you know what this means?”

“No, Mistress.”

“It means that there will be no communication between us for a period of time to be determined solely by me. Repeated disobedience to this or any other command will result in the permanent termination of our relationship. Is this understood?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Very good. All communication will be initiated by me. You will not contact me for any reason unless as required by a prior command.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“I will address you as ‘adam’ in chats, texts and emails.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“This arrangement will last for one year. At any time during that year, up to Midnight one year from today, you may withdraw from our arrangement, and we will make every effort to return to our former relationship. After that, while I wouldn’t rule out a restoration of our friendship, I wouldn’t expect it to happen. For that matter, the longer into the year we go, the harder it will be for us to go back, certainly on my part, and probably on yours.

“For that reason, I want you to consider carefully your final acceptance, and encourage you to reflect often as to your desire to continue.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“I am going to sign off now. In exactly one hour I will ping you with a simple “?” If you accept these terms, you will type, “I submit myself to the service of Mistress Susanna,” and await further instructions.”

She was gone before I could reply, and I was wise enough not to violate her no contact rule. I really didn’t need the hour; I knew I was going to do it, and it was the longest hour of my life.

I nearly jumped out of my seat when the laptop pinged and the “?” appeared. I had already copied the response she wanted, both to avoid any errors and any delays, and pasted it into the text box, “I submit myself to the service of Mistress Susanna,” and hit send.

I sat back to wait.

I sat and stared at the screen for the better part of an hour, not wanting to leave for fear of missing Mistress Susanna’s ping. It was becoming automatic now to refer to her as Mistress, even in my own mind.

My bladder told me I had to move, and I realized that I could get my messages on my phone, so I grabbed it and rushed to the bathroom.

My phone pinged while I was standing over the toilet, and I was so nervous that I almost dropped it in the bowl. I opened the screen and it was Mistress Susanna.

“adam, are you there?”

“Yes, Mistress, I await your instructions.”

“adam, when was the last time you masturbated?”

“Last night, Mistress.”

“You are not to orgasm until I tell you. You may masturbate; in fact, I WANT you to masturbate, but I am denying you your orgasm. I am trusting you to be honest with me, and confess if you fail me.”

I was both excited by her command, and already frustrated by what lay ahead of me.

“Yes, Mistress, I understand.”

“Very well. I will leave you now. I will contact you at my convenience.”

She had signed off before I could even reply.

My cock was already getting hard. I was really doing this! COULD I do this? I was already so excited; how could I possibly keep from coming for ... shit! I didn’t even know how long she was going to keep me hanging!

What was I going to do if I couldn’t do it? Would I be honest? How would she punish me? Would she punish me, or would she just drop me? Could she tell if I lied? I’m a terrible liar, but the filter of the chat should help there, but would I want to lie to my Mistress? Where did THAT come from? Had I already bought into her dominance?

My head was spinning. I decided to crash early, hopefully things would be clearer in the morning. I did allow myself a small measure of disobedience by not touching myself. I was on such a hair trigger that I was sure I would come if I did.

I actually had a good night’s sleep, but woke horrified to find that I had come in my sleep, and still had the hardest morning wood of my life. Somehow, I managed to empty my bladder, and get through my day, and spent the evening with my tablet on my lap opened to the chat window, desperately hoping that Mistress Susanna would give me some relief, but my wait was in vain.

On the morning after my third night, I woke up shocked to find that I had come again during the night. What was I going to do? What could I tell Mistress, HOW could I tell Mistress?

Before I could even clean up, my tablet pinged, the chat displayed only, “adam.” It was Mistress Susanna, it was my moment of truth.

I hesitated for just a moment.

“Good morning, Mistress.”

“You did not reply right away, adam. Did I wake you?”

“No, Mistress, I was awake.”

There was no reply. She was obviously expecting me to explain myself.

“I’m sorry, Mistress. I have failed you. I came last night, and two nights before. It wasn’t deliberate, it happened while I was asleep.”

There was no reply for a moment, then:

“I’m very proud of you, adam.”

She was proud of me? I failed her; I disobeyed her instructions.

“I know I told you not to orgasm, and you did, but it wasn’t deliberate. More importantly, you were honest with me. I can’t be there with you, nor you here with me. This relationship has no future if I can’t trust you to obey me without question even if I can’t know if you do or not.”

I was so relieved!

“Thank you, Mistress. I will never fail you if it is in my power to do your bidding.”

The rest of the chat was like our normal chats, talking about stories we had read, discussing story ideas, just normal friendly chit-chat.

Over the next few months she would give me various assignments. I was usually successful, when I would occasionally fail, she would punish me, either by not communicating for several days, or ordering me to deny myself orgasms.

The turning point came when she opened up a video chat. She was sitting there in her red bustier, with the cups pulled down a little so that I could see the rings in her pierced nipples, which got me as hard as steel. She was wearing the same red lipstick as in the first photo she had sent me, and her hair was framing her face.

“Adam, stand up, make sure that I can see you, and remove all of your clothes.”

This was the first time we had done something this personal, and I was so nervous that my fingers were fumbling at my buttons, but I was soon naked, standing there with my cock at full attention.

I’m pretty average, not a gym rat, but not a beanpole, either. That includes my cock; I won’t be starring in any porn movies, but I’ve never had any complaints. I’ve never done any man-scaping, and hoped that Susanna wouldn’t order it.

Mistress Susanna was no stranger to my cock, she had me send her pictures before, but this was the first time that she had seen it “live.”

“Very nice, Adam, now sit down, but make sure that your cock is in camera range.”

I did as she requested, or was that ordered, and found myself getting even more excited.

“Start playing with yourself, adam. I don’t want you to jerk off, just lightly stroke your cock, tease yourself. Look at me while you do it.”

A shiver ran through me as I made eye contact through the screen and began playing with my cock.

Mistress Susanna seemed to be getting excited as well, as she licked her lips and her eyes glistened.

She licked a finger and dropped it below camera range, and I could only imagine that she was playing with herself, as well, which only increased my sexual tension.

“Adam, I want you to masturbate for me now, I want you to continue until you come. Lean back and let the cum hit your chest and stomach.”

I did as she instructed, and her breathing was becoming shallower as well.

It didn’t take long before I was shooting a copious amount of cum onto myself. As I recovered, I saw Mistress Susanna shudder. She brought her finger back into view, glistening with her juices. She put it into her mouth and sucked on it, withdrawing it slowly, with a satisfied grin on her face.

“Adam, I want you to scoop up some of your cum and eat it.”

I don’t know if I’m unique among guys, but I had tasted my cum before, and it’s never done anything for me, one way or the other. It didn’t gross me out, but it wasn’t any sort of a turn on either, but this would be the first time I had done it in front of another person.

I hesitated for just a few seconds before obeying, and Mistress Susanna seemed to quiver again.

We continued to play for the next few months, but my urge to be with my Mistress in person grew into an obsession, and I eventually convinced her to allow me to come visit her.

I had a secret, though. I had lined up a job interview, and if all went well, I would be moving to the San Francisco area. How would Mistress Susanna react? Would she be mad that I didn’t tell her? Probably. Would she be excited to have me available at her disposal? Hopefully.

So, there I was, entering San Francisco, my Mistress’s domain. I was reasonably sure that our physical interaction would go well. Mistress Susanna was kind and loving; I was in no fear of any sort of physical abuse. Deep down inside I was hoping that she would allow me to make a physical expression of my love. I would obviously be thrilled if she allowed by to fully enjoy her body, but even if she only allowed me to service her, it would be the thrill of a lifetime.

As I approached her door, I hesitated. We hadn’t discussed any protocols; I didn’t know what her rules might be. Did I look her in the eyes? Did I kneel? Well, it was too late for that; I’d just have to wing it, and I gently rapped on her door.

When she opened the door, I started to kneel, but she took my hand and pulled me back up.

“That’s not necessary, Adam, we are still friends,” she said as she gave me a gentle kiss on the lips and led me into her home.

As I sat on the sofa she said, “Would you like some coffee, Adam?”

“Yes,” I said as I started to stand up to serve her.

“No, Adam, sit; you’re a guest in my home.”

I was confused; I thought I was supposed to serve her. She must have sensed my confusion. It probably wasn’t difficult, I’m sure it was written all over my face.

“Adam, I know you submitted yourself to me, but that was online. You may feel differently now that it’s more real...”

I started to interrupt, but she held up her hand to stop me.

“Please let me finish, Adam. It’s not that I doubt your sincerity. I have no doubt that your submission was genuine, but it would be only natural for you to have second thoughts now that it’s more real...”

“No, Mistress, no second thoughts, just excitement. I find it hard to believe that we are doing this for real.”

“I understand,” she said, “and I know you’re getting into your role, but for the moment we’re just two friends talking. Please, just call me Susanna.”

“Yes, Mi ... Susanna, I’ll try,” I said, though I was a little disappointed. I was anxious to serve my Mistress.

“Very good,” she said. “The first thing we should establish is a safe word.”

“A safe word?”

“Yes, you know what that is don’t you?”

“Yes, that’s what I should say if I need you to stop what you’re doing.”

“Correct. You may not feel the need, as we don’t plan on getting into, as you said, “whips and chains,” but you can never know what will be too much for someone. The safe word shouldn’t be something like “don’t,” or “stop,” as we might want to role play some resistance where you might say something like that, but not really mean it. It should be something that wouldn’t come up in normal conversation, like “radish...”

“Aardvark,” I said.

“Aardvark?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, I’d like aardvark to be my safe word.”

“Okay, then, aardvark it is. Let me show you your room, you can leave your luggage there,” she said. She stood up and led me to a guest room. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it was just a bedroom such as you would see in any suburban home; nothing fancy, but not a monastic cell, either.

We went back to the living room, and as Susanna started to give me my initial instructions, I raised my hand.

“Yes, Adam, what is it?”

“I ... I have a, a confession, Mistress.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“A confession? Already?” she said with a smile. “This should be interesting. Please continue.”

“This trip isn’t entirely a vacation. I have a job interview with Balzac, Inc. If I get the job I’ll be moving to the area.”

Susanna was silent, and she didn’t look happy. I was beginning to think that I might have made a huge mistake.

“Adam, I think you should go to your room.”

“Mi...”

“Now! Adam.”

Shit, I’d really stepped in it. First, I over-stepped my bounds, then I tried to argue with my Mistress. I’d be lucky if she didn’t send me away, then what would I do?

I sat on the bed waiting for Mistress Susanna to go to bed. I thought my bladder might burst, but she told me to go to my room, and I didn’t want to risk disobeying her again.

Sooner than I could have hoped, I heard her going to her room. I waited a few moments before dashing to the bathroom, and doing the bare minimum so that I could return to my room as quickly as possible.

I set my alarm for an early wake-up so that I could shit, shower and shave before Mistress Susanna woke up, but as I left my room she was coming out of the bathroom, wrapped in a plush robe. She hit me with an icy stare that gave new meaning to the term “shrinkage,” and I stopped in my tracks.

“Come to me in the living room when you’re done. Don’t bother getting dressed.”

That actually excited me, and I made my way quickly to the bathroom, hoping she didn’t notice my arousal, and took care of my business.

I managed to calm myself down while in the shower, but as I made my way naked to the living room, I could feel myself getting aroused again, until I was fully erect standing before her.

I thought I saw a smile flicker across her lips, but it was soon gone as she regarded me sternly. I was wondering just how long she was going to make me stand there, when she finally spoke.

“I’m very disappointed in you Adam. I’m tempted to just send you on your way.”

My heart sank as my cock wilted.

“I had hopes of having some fun these two weeks, see how compatible we were, just see how this all might work. Now, you just short-circuited the whole process. Now, instead of just seeing how this might work, we’re laboring under the pressure of a deadline.

“Tell me, what was your plan if things didn’t work out between us? Would you be moving here anyway?”

“I ... I hadn’t really thought about it. I just assumed, I assumed we would be ... together.”

“That seems to be kind of a presumptuous assumption right about now.”

I could only look down at the floor, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

She kept me waiting, standing there, as she seemed lost in thought, then seemed to come to a decision. She loosened the sash, then opened the robe, revealing the body that had fed my fantasies for the past several months.

The sunlight was glinting off her nipple rings, and she had shaved her pussy nearly bare, leaving only a landing strip ending just above her lower lips.