My name was once Tanya. I gave up that name three years ago when I gave myself to Master. He brought out of me the truth of who I am, and in doing so took possession of my self in every way that matters.
We met online in a chat room for singles. He told me later that he sensed in me right away a hint of who I could become. He is older than I, and had a wife once, but he said that with her he couldn't have the kind of relationship he hungered for - the kind of relationship he has with me. They parted ways and he began his new search. I, meanwhile, had never been in a serious relationship. In looking back, I think part of me knew that none of the boys I had been intimate with could offer me what I wanted, even if at the time I couldn't have put it into words.
I rebelled against my desires, thinking that if I were strong enough, I could push them away. I cut my hair short, and got piercings and adopted a hard personality. This served me well at University, and got me a degree with honors in history, though I have no idea even now what I would have done for a career.
When He found me, he simply talked with me for the longest time. Many of the boys in the chat room simply wanted sex - cyber or otherwise - but He never brought it up. In retrospect, I now know that he wanted a woman he could possess in ways that went far beyond sex. And I feel lucky that I was the one he chose to own.
We talked for weeks online, sometimes every night. As we got more intimate with our thoughts, we become more intimate with our bodies as well. The first time he ordered me to masturbate, I recall the awkwardness of having to use my left hand to type while furiously fingering my wet pussy with my right. After I had come, I looked back all the typos and one word sentences and was embarrassed. His response was to buy me a camera for the computer.
He bought one for his computer too, but he almost always was content to command me rather than seek his own pleasure. As he watched me do his bidding, I often caught a glimpse of his intense stare. Since becoming his, I've regularly seen that look. I swear, he can see through me and deep into my soul. At first, he was content for me to pleasure myself, but he started adding pain as well. Until I met Him, I had no idea the potent impact of mixing pleasure with pain. With his help, I've discovered how powerful it truly is. Sometimes I marvel that I ever achieved orgasm before without it.
We finally met in person a few months later. We lived only about 50 miles apart, so I visited his house. The first time I visited, we did nothing but talk over tea. Part of me wanted - expected - him to strip and ravage me, but he was a perfect gentleman, and I was a perfect lady. By the time I said goodbye and walked back to my car, I was as horny as I could ever remember being. I frantically drove back home and called him on my computer and confessed my aching desire for release to him. He responded by ordering me to spank myself with my hairbrush and then finger myself to orgasm. When I was done, he promised that next time I visited, I would not leave frustrated.
He made me wait a week before I could return. During that week, he did not play with me. He did not forbid me from masturbating, but he did not explicitly say I could, so I tried my best to keep my mind away from my cunt as much as possible.
When I arrived at his house again, he had me stand in the middle of the living room with my hands behind my back. I was wearing a knee-length black skirt, G string panties, 3 inch heels and a tight blouse with a plunging neckline. He put on some soft music and told me to do a strip-tease for him. He sat on his couch with a neutral expression, but with the all too familiar stare in his eyes. I nervously started to move with the music. I closed my eyes and the thought of performing for his pleasure made my pussy tingle. As I gyrated my hips, I pulled the blouse up over my head and tossed it to the side. Then I reached down and felt for the zipper on the side of the skirt and unzipped it. I turned to the side and slowly lowered my skirt just enough to reveal my naked ass below the G string. I turned the rest of the way - back to him - and lowered my skirt, bending over as I did, giving him a view of my ass and panty-covered pussy. I stepped out of the skirt and kicked it over by the blouse. I straightened back up and turned around to face him. Then I reached behind me and undid the catch on my bra. As I let it snap free, I moved my arm up to shield my breasts from his view. I took the bra off, keeping one arm in front of my breasts, teasing him. I then moved a hand in front of each one and slowly moved my hands from protecting to projecting, cupping each one from underneath and lifting them as seductively as I could. Finally, I dropped my hands down to my waist and quickly took my panties down, revealing my freshly waxed, naked pussy. Now that I was naked before him, I put my hands back behind my back and thrust my naked breasts out towards him.
He told me to come with him as he walked past me and down a hallway. I followed him to a room in the back of his house. It was probably once a second bedroom, but at first glance it more resembled an exercise room. Except that instead of exercise equipment, the room was filled with bondage implements. He had a saltier cross, a spanking bench with cuffs attached at various points, a rack on the wall filled with straps, canes and paddles... I look back now and embarrassed by my naiveté in that moment. How shocked I was, even though I had an inkling already of what he could do! And now, looking back from my vantage point having experienced firsthand every single thing possible in that room and remembering that moment only reminds me how far I have come since then.