Meeting - Chapter 1
Michael quickly checked his hair in the mirror as he hurried down the hall. The knock on the door had been so light he wasn't sure that was what he had heard, until the second light rap touched his ears. Straightening the entry rug with his foot he opened the door.
As a cold blast of winter wind caught his breath so did the girl on his front step.
"I wasn't sure you would come," he said, sizing up the bundle of coats, scarfs, mittens and three inch heeled boots standing before him.
"I wasn't sure either," she answered softly. "May I come in?"
Michael quickly stepped back, offering his hand for support as she stepped into the entryway. Pushing the door closed, Michael turned in time to watch her shake loose a mass of silky auburn hair from the scarf, allowing it to tumble carelessly down her back.
The soft fragrance of her hair touched his senses, and he smiled inwardly as he moved passed her.
"I'm Sasha," she introduced, her deep hazel eyes meeting his. Blue eyes, she thought, they seem to see right through me.
She noticed, even with her heels he was a good bit taller than herself. He had dark waves of hair and was devilishly handsome.
"Let me take your coat," he offered, reaching to assist her with the buttons.
Sasha shed her outer garments, and handed them to Michael. When he turned she grinned to herself, and a cute butt.
"I don't remember us agreeing on that as the attire for the evening," Michael remarked turning to face her.
Sasha looked down at her clothes. She had on a burgundy sweater, very tight black jeans and three inch heeled ankle boots.
"Yes, well, I thought you might like to help me get changed," she replied, dimples accenting her face as a soft smile touched the edges of her lips. "I have everything right here. You don't seem to be dress for the evening yet either."
"As I said, I wasn't sure if you were going to come."
"Oh," she whispered, her hazel eyes sparkling.
Michael picked up the leather bag at Sasha's feet and led the way to the living room. The room was oval shaped with a fireplace set into the inner wall, two low backed sofas outlined the area with a wonderfully large tan shag rug accenting the floor. Sasha instantly noticed the interesting shape of the heavy wood coffee table where Michael had just set her bag.
"Well, the night isn't getting any younger," she sighed. "Shall we begin. The items in my bag are arranged in the order in which I should put them on. So, if you will help me with my sweater," and she stepped within inches of him.
Michael placed his warm hands on her waist, slowly gliding them upward taking the sweater up and over her head. A shiver went through her, and instantly her crotch was wet. Dropping the sweater on the sofa, Michael reached around and unfastened her lacy bra. Her nipples were already hard as the covering fell away, but Michael seemed not to notice.
"Rest your foot on the table," he instructed, and he knelt to unzip her right boot. As the boot slipped off, Sasha wiggled her toes. "Now the other," he said, setting the first aside. Again wiggling her toes, Sasha pranced nervously in place as Michael skimmed his hands along her outer thighs stopping at the snap of her jeans.
"What are you going to be wearing?" she asked wiggling her bottom out of the tight jeans.
"My things are laid out on the bed," he replied squeezing her calf. "Lift your leg." Michael worked the material to her ankle and she slipped her foot out and to the floor. Repeating the process, Sasha balanced herself by holding onto his shoulders. With the last item, her lace panties, Sasha quickly slipped her fingers under the waistband and wiggled them down and off.
"Turn around," Michael requested with a twirling of his finger over her head, "let me look at you."
Sasha could feel her face flush as she began to turn.
"Slowly," he ordered. "Stop, right there a moment."
Sasha stopped with her back to him. She could feel his piercing blue eyes fixed on her bottom. What is he waiting for, she thought. Gently Michael gathered up her silky hair and draped it over her left shoulder.
Sasha slowly turned to face him, her hair falling just short of her pink nipples. Michael's eyes roamed over her figure, coming to rest on the redish patch of hair left on her neatly shaved pelvis. With an approving smile Michael unzipped the bag.
The first items he removed were a pair of leather thigh high boots. Michael looked at the heel.
"Six inch?" he remarked.
"Yes," she replied softly.
Michael knelt, and gently grasping her right heel guided it into the boot. The boot laced up the front, molding itself to her leg just an inch from her crotch. As Michael tied off the lacings his finger lightly touched her pussy lips, sending another quick shiver through her.
With both boots in place, Michael pulled the next item from the bag. An emerald green, satin corset with back lacings.
"I like your taste in colors," he complimented, fitting the corset to the tan contours of her body .
"Thank you. You left it up to me, so I picked my favorite color."
Michael moved to her rear and began lacing her in. The corset started right above her tailbone and ended under her breast. As the corset tighten Sasha nestled her breast comfortably into the half cup openings at the top. Sasha's breath was coming in short pants, and her face was slightly flushed by the time Michael finished. Then reaching into a side compartment of the bag, Michael produced a shiny silver D ring which attached near the top of the corset in the back. After securing it, he gave it a little tug, allowing Sasha to know it was in place and reminding her of what it was for.
Next was a white suede skirt, which zipped up the back. Sasha again balanced herself by holding onto Michaels shoulders as she stepped into the skirt, and wiggled about as he moved the skirt up past her thighs. The skirt, once in place began where the corset ended and ended where her thigh high,six inch heeled boots began. The short tight skirt barely covered her naked bottom and crotch.
The last item out of the bag was an emerald green shoulder cape attached to an inch wide leather collar. Michael regarded it for a moment. Then looked at Sasha and smiled.
"Very nice," he commented. Stepping close Michael clasped the inch wide collar around Sasha's throat. He then lifted her auburn hair and locked it in place with a tiny silver lock. Along with the collar came matching half inch leather wrist collars, which Michael buckled on and locked in place with a tiny silver lock on each.
Michael stepped back and looked at her. "Turn please," he said again twirling his finger above her. Sasha made a slow circle, coming to a stop facing him. "Something is missing," he commented tapping his lips with his finger. Then his face brightened. "Wait here."
Michael returned a minute later with some thin silver chain in his hands.
"Put your foot up on the table," he instructed. Michael quickly looped the first chain around the back of her heel, over her foot and locked it in place under the arch of her boot. "Now the other."
When he was finished Sasha realized the boots were not coming off until he decided. But for that matter neither was anything else, since he had sent her the other locks in the mail and hadn't enclosed the keys.
"What about the other chains you have in your hand?" Sasha asked hesitantly.
"Those are for later," he informed her, and slipped them into his pocket. "I need to get changed, stand there until I return."
Michael disappeared down the hall, leaving Sasha alone in the living room. Within minutes she began to wonder if he meant for her to stand still right there, or just to remain standing in the living room. Sasha gazed around the room, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, easing the pressure the six inch heels was putting on her toes. After several minutes of taking in the pictures on the walls, one finally attracted her attention enough for her to wander over and take a closer look.
"That is not where I told you to stand," Michael stated loudly, startling her.
"I... was just..... looking at the.... picture," Sasha stuttered, turning to face him.
Michael strode across the room and took her arm, escorting her firmly back to the place she had been.
"I instructed you to stand here until I returned. We have discussed this together on numberous occasions. I do not like repeating myself and I mean what I say. If you do not understand something--ask. Otherwise, I will assume you do understand and expect you to do as you are told."
Sasha silently allowed him to return her to the exact place where she had been standing. Then turning away he strode back down the hall and disappeared. Sasha stood quietly waiting, wondering what her first night with Michael would be like.
They had touched each others lives on accident six months earlier when she had dialed his phone number by mistake. She can still remember that night so vividly.
"Hello," came a rich timbred masculine voice over the lines.
"Hello," she answered. "My I speak with Rachel?"
"You must have dialed the wrong number," the male voice informed her.
"Excuse me, I'm very sorry," she replied and hung up the phone. Sasha had waited a minute for the line to clear and picked up the receiver to dial again--there was no dial tone.
"Hello?" Sasha questioned into the receiver.
"Yes," the deep male voice responded. "Now Miss, did you think I was going to just allow you to disturb me?"
"I.... ah...I didn't mean to disturb you. I dialed the number wrong," Sasha tried to explain. "It was a accident."
"I see," he sighed. "Well, as a general rule, I punish those who interrupt me without permission. I don't see why I should not apply this rule to you also."
"Punish me," Sasha gasped. "You don't even know me."
"Never the less, if I punish you now, in the future you may be more careful when dialing the phone."
"What?" she cried.
"I assume you were trying to call a girlfriend, correct ?" he asked abruptly.
"Yes, I was," Sasha answered curtly.
"Well, as punishment for disturbing me, I am going to leave my phone line open. Thus tieing up your line also," he informed her sternly.
"You can't do this," she yelped.
"I already have. Now get a magazine, sit down, lay the receiver beside you, and wait," he ordered.
Stunned, Sasha did as he said, and sat leafing through a ladies magazine. After thirty minutes she silently lifted the receiver to hear ear and listened. He could hear her breathe against the mouthpiece.
"Young lady, I told you to lay the phone beside you and wait," he stated sharply. "Now, do as you're told."
A twinge of excitment caused a moistness between her legs as she compliantly laid the phone back down. The longer she waited the more often she glanced at the phone. She finished her magazine and wanted something else to read, but was afraid to leave the receiver unattended. Unable to see a clock from where she sat, she shifted uncomfortably in the chair causing her jeans to rub against her pussy, sending a chill through her instantly hardening her nipples.
"Young lady," the deep voice sounded through the receiver. "Pick up the phone."
"Yes," Sasha answered softly.
"You did very well. In the future, I expect you to be more careful of the numbers you are dialing."
"You may hang up now," his gentle voice permitted.
"Thank you," Sasha whispered and gently placed the receiver on it's base.
Sasha looked at the clock, it was nearly midnight. She had sat there for three hours. Unbelievable, she thought. Stretching as she yawned, her jeans again tightened against her crotch causing her pussy muscles to throb. Skimming her fingers down her tummy passed the waistband of her jeans, she touched herself.
"Geesh!" she exclaimed out loud. "Am I ever wet."
That night Sasha gently rubbed the pleasure areas along the lips of her pussy. Her thoughts replaying the conversation over the phone, *if I punish you now you will be more careful.* Within minutes Sasha felt the warm sensations of her orgams, her muscles convulsing as the waves of pleasure shook her, a soft moan escaping her lips as the last hot twinge in her pussy died. Sasha slept sounder that night than she had in months.
Sasha saw a message flashing on her machine when she got home from work the next day.
"Hello young lady," came the same rich timbred voice from the previous night. "We were not properly introduced last evening, but then again it wasn't an appropriate time for introduction, now was it. I will call you at 6 o'clock sharp, but do not answer until after the third ring."
Sasha stared at the answering machine, rewound the message and played it again. Then she looked at the clock, it was 5:15. I have time to change and fix myself some supper, she thought.
Ring...... Ring...... Ring.
"Hello," Sasha said, touching the receiver to her ear.
"Very good, Miss.," praised the gentle voice on the other end, and Sasha's heart skipped a beat. "I trust you had a good day at work."
"Yes, thank you," she replied. "Excuse me, but how did you know my number?"
"Remember you dialed me last night," he reminded her.
"You have caller ID," she remarked, kicking herself for not having thought of that.
"I do indeed," he chuckled, "and today, a proper introduction is in order. My name is Michael."
"Hello Michael," she greeted, "and mine is Sasha."
"Well Sasha, it's nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too. I was surprised to see your message on my machine."
"It was a nice surprise, I hope."
"Oh yes," Sasha quickly answered. "I just never expected......."
"Hum.... we must do something about that statement," Michael remarked, interrupting her. "The unexpected often brings excitment and enjoyment."
There was silence on the other end of the line.
"Sasha?" Michael spoke softly.
"Yes, I'm here. I was thinking about what you just said."
"That's good. I like a girl who thinks."
Sasha blushed at
the compliment, unconsciously twisting the phone cord around her finger,
waiting for him to speak to her again. That night their conversation last
thirty minutes, and as Michael said his goodbyes he informed her he would
call again the following evening. But not to answer the phone until the
....... Michael took his time dressing, making sure every detail was perfect. Soft leather pants clung to his groin, a wide leather belt about his waist secured the silver silk shirt he had chosen for the evening. His black boots stopped just below his knee, making it hard to tell where the boot stopped and the pants began. The last item on the bed was his vest. The waist length black vest was made of the highest grade leather, and embroidered in silver thread on the right breast was Drakedom Manor, his home.
Stepping over to the armoire he open the doors to reveal an extensive collection of devices used in the art of thralldom. Remembering the thin chains he had dropped into the pocket of his other trousers, he moved to the bed and retrieved them. Holding them up he pinched the nipple clip of each, testing the tightness of the spring. Satisfied he placed them in his vest pocket. Next he located his twenty two inch stiff leather paddle, which he slid along the side of his boot into its designed sleeve, the tapered grip just inches from his fingers.
He did not plan on being out extremely late, and did not forsee any unusual activities developling, so dropping an extra chain and minature lock into his vest pocket he closed the armoire. Looking in the floor length mirror, Michael stiffened his collar, straightened his vest and headed for the living room.
Sasha was standing where he had placed her, fidgeting as usual.
"Sasha," Michael spoke her name from the doorway. She instantly stopped moving about. "Are you having a problem being still?"
"No, my toes were just getting a little tingly," she replied picking up her foot and wiggling it around.
"That was not an appropriate response," Michael stated coming to stand within inches of her.
"I know, Master," she responded softly. Then looking directly at him, her hazel eyes flickered, "I just wanted to be sure you were paying attention."
"Hummm," he sighed, as the narrowing of his eyes gave her a firm but gently warning.
Sasha compliantly cast her gaze to the floor. "May I ask where you are taking me this evening."
"We are going to a play party at the Citadel," Michael answered, and lightly brushed the back of his hand over her exposed nipples. Sasha's eyes jumped to meet his. "No," he whispered his order, and she looked to the floor. "My Pet, you must be focused tonight," he reminded her.
"Yes Master," Sasha breathed penitently.
Michael placed his warm lips against her ear, "I will not tolerate any misbehavior."
Sasha moved her
head slightly, nestling into his words of warning.