Friday, Inside Sir’s Front Door: Sir

I hung up the phone from Joe, the concierge, who had called to tell me that he had buzzed that beautiful blonde in, and she was on her way up. I knew I should have made big, elaborate plans for tonight and the weekend, but somehow, I needed to know where Marta was mentally. I didn’t want the fantasy of Marta to interfere with the reality. I wondered just what was going to happen, but I was hoping it would be as good – in all ways – as last weekend.

I also knew I had a lot of explaining ahead of me tomorrow and through the rest of the weekend. I just hope the explanations didn’t screw up the very early, fragile relationship we had now. I was hoping we were going to have something long-lasting and good, whether she married me or not.

But I had no idea what to expect when she finally got here.

And then I wondered: Where is she? It shouldn’t take this that long to get up here from the lobby, even if one of the elevators was busy.

Just then, the doorbell rang. I jumped up and walked quickly to the door, pulling it open.

I was surprised there was nobody there. Wait – I looked down and was shocked beyond speech. There was Marta, kneeling in front of my door, stark naked, with a blindfold over her eyes, a ball gag in her mouth, her arms apparently bound behind her, her ankles locked together, her knees spread, with a long dildo stretching from her vagina to the floor, and I heard an oscillating buzzing noise. She was trembling and breathing hard.

It was almost as if some pornographer had kidnapped her, bound her, and dumped her at my door. I was shocked. I didn’t know what to do.

Then I noticed my sweat suit, folded neatly in front of her, with a small box that said it held safety razors, her smartphone, and a note, folded, with “Sir” on the front.

I squatted down on my heels and picked up the note, which said:

I will be your slave.
Or I will be dead.
Please take me, Sir

Taped to the bottom of the note were three pairs of keys, with hand-written labels: “Cuffs”, “Dog collar”, and “Ball gag”.

I hung my head, and shivered. What I had done? And how could I repair it?

Then I realized that we were on view. I knew that the odds of one of my neighbors emerging from their condos and looking this way at us were small, but they were not zero.

Yet, I couldn’t resist…

I gently ran the back of one finger inside her left thigh, all the way to her cunt, then along her cunt lips around the dildo. I gently pushed my finger inside the lip, and followed the line up to her clitoris.

As soon as the back of my finger touched her, she started violently, and her trembling increased so she was almost shaking. But when I lightly stroked her clit, the shaking increased and she moaned loudly – or it seemed loud, although the ball gag swallowed most of it.

I withdrew my hand, which caused her to start again. I picked up the note, the box of razors, the smartphone, and my sweats, and dumped them inside my door, then stepped outside and stood next to her. Bending down, I put one arm under her legs, and the other between her arms and back, then lifted her up and carried her into the living room, placing her gently on the big leather chair I’d used to spank her a week earlier, with her arms over one arm of the chair, and her legs over the other, so that she straddled the chair sideways with her ass on the seat.

Returning quickly to the door, I picked up the dildo, which had slipped out of her when I’d picked her up, then closed the front door and locked it. I looked at the dildo controls, and switched it off, but kept it with me.

I shucked off the sports jacket I was wearing, kicked off my loafers, and walked slowly back to the chair, to pause in front of her. I placed the dildo and kitchen things on the table, then turned to her and said, softly,

“What am I going to do with you?”

She turned her head towards the sound of my voice. Then, very deliberately, she opened her knees as far as she could, given that her ankles were bound. I bent over and kissed the blonde bush between her legs, and said, “Yes, but later. Patience.”

I went back to the door, and retrieved her note and the razor blades, brought them back, drew up a small side table, placed the note and box on it, then turned to her again. I went across the room to get a small pillow, then returned to her side, bent my knees, put my hands under her and lifted her up, then turned around so I could sit in the chair, holding her like a doll across my lap. I placed the pillow so that it propped up her head and neck, making it more comfortable for her to stay in this position. She was still bound and gagged, but at least she was no longer on public view.

Yet, oddly, there was still a buzzing noise, and my lap was vibrating beneath her. Good God! She had a vibrating butt plug up her ass. Well, I would deal that eventually, but first things, first.

I reached over, unstuck the keys for the ball gag from the note, pushed her head softly forward, and unlocked the gag, removing it gently from her mouth and placing it on the table. She licked her lips, which were dry, then resolutely closed her mouth. She’d said what she wanted to say in her note. It was my move.

Then I slid the blindfold up to her forehead, sending the message that I could blind her again if I wished. She looked at me.

Then I leaned slowly forward and kissed her.

Her mouth was a bit dry, but warm and welcoming, and the kiss went on and on. Neither of us wanted it to stop, and neither of us did stop it for a very long time.

As it went on, I found myself stroking her, gently running my hand up and down her side with one hand, and stroking her hair with the other. She shivered, and her body responded eagerly to my touch. I loved holding her like this, bound, naked, and helpless. It was an enormous turn-on, but I also felt an enormous sense of tenderness, and responsibility.

I also felt I had to marry this woman. But that might take some convincing.

In His Arms: Marta

I heard the door open, then silence. Wildly, I wondered if I’d done something wrong, gone to the wrong floor or the wrong apartment or something equally foolish. I had no idea what I would do if that happened, and I started to panic.

Then I felt something, perhaps a finger, run along my thigh and up to my crotch, then trace around the dildo until it very gently touched my clit. I jumped, unsure who was doing this, and hoping against hope it was Sir.

I heard him (or her?) pick up the note and unfold it, presumably to read it. There was a pause, then he seemed to be moving the things in front of me, then apparently stepped into the apartment. I panicked again at the thought I might be left outside in the corridor.

Then he stepped to my side, and I felt him pick me up and carry me some distance before depositing me gently into a chair. Now I knew it was him – I recognized his smell. I breathed a sigh of relief, but kept shivering, now from excitement.

He eventually picked me up from the chair, swung me around, and sat down, holding me in his lap.

He pushed my head forward, unlocked and removed the ball gag, putting it down, then raised the blindfold so I could see him. Then he kissed me…

Interrogation: Sir

“How did you come up with this crazy, outrageous scheme? And why, Marta? I’m not a superman, or a white knight, or a god. I’m just a messed-up guy who got really, really lucky – and knows it. Why would you want – insist on being my slave, and threaten me with suicide if I refused? That’s a crushing burden to place on anyone.”

She looked at me for a time, then smiled and said, “Would it help if I told you I asked my dead roommate about you, and she approved?”

Then she sighed, cast her eyes down, and said, “Sir, you have treated me with more compassion, and, yes, more gentleness, than anyone – ever – in my life. There is a part of me that wants, needs to be dominated and punished, and you’ve done that. But you also took care of me, showed me that you care – and then said you were falling in love with me.”

“I am.”

She looked up into my eyes. She had tears in hers. “And I trust you, and I believe you can make me happy. And that is what I’m begging for. Not just pain and punishment, although I want that, too, but to be cared for.”

She looked down again. “And to love me. If you can.”

I knew I had to lighten the mood or we’d both break down and start boo-hooing. We would circle back to this later – probably many times.

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll offer you a deal. I’ll allow you to be my slave on a one month trial on two conditions.

“First, you will listen to what I have to say, to hear me out, this weekend, starting tomorrow, and not judge me until I’ve finished.

“And second, after I’m done, you’ll decide – you’ll decide – if you want to be my slave for a month.

“Then, at the end of the month, we will both decide if this is what we want. Deal?” And I stuck out my hand and smiled.

She looked at my hand, with her hands bound behind her, as if I was crazy. Then she broke up laughing. I joined her, and I wound up hugging her, and then kissing her.

And it went on a long time, again. It felt good.

When we broke, she said, “And you say I’m the crazy one! Deal!” And she moved her shoulder towards me and bumped my shoulder.

I patted her shoulder, and then said, “And now, slave, I want you to tell me everything that went through your little head all week. And especially where you got all these toys, and why the hell you took the chance of trussing yourself up, naked, outside my door.”

But although I really did want to hear what she had to say, I had an ulterior motive as well.

I started by gently stroking her, starting at her shoulders and running up and down her arms. Then I gradually moved on to her sides, stroking gently while paying rapt attention to her words. And I progressed…

She started by saying, “I was a mess when I went home last week. I was scared, to be honest, and I didn’t know what to think.”

“What were you scared about?” I asked.

She glanced at me, “A lot of things. I was scared that I had leapt into the deep end by letting you take me from the reception without thinking about it, and with no idea who you were – which I still don’t.”

“You wanted it that way.”

“Yes, well…I was scared at my own reactions. I told you I haven’t had sex for years, more than a decade, plus I have never had a successful submissive relationship with anyone, ever. I never knew what I wanted, always thought I was a pervert, and believed that I should avoid such dirty thoughts, that I would rot in hell. But the urges keep coming back.”

“Do you think about such things when you play with yourself?” I asked.

She looked up sharply at me, then blushed heavily and dropped her eyes. “Yes, and that feels sinful as well.” She paused, and I kept quiet. “This week I did some research and found that there are a lot of people who have a yearning to be dominant or submissive.”

“I know,” I smiled, while continuing to stroke, now moving on to her head and ears.

“That feels really nice – are you trying to seduce me?”

“Word of honor, I’m not. I am absolutely not seducing you, I’m just going to take you when I’m ready.”

She shivered, then said in a low voice, “I think I’m ready now.”

I leaned forward and kissed her, briefly this time. “I know you are. You smell like cunt, and I still like it. So, go on, tell me about buying the toys.”

“But…”

“What about the toys?” I asked firmly. By now, I was feeling her ass, massaging it gently, and running my fingers up to her ass crack, then along it towards her cunt – but never farther than her perineum – then stroking back up to her hip and along the line of her pubic hair, then retracing the line, always with local detours and dalliances. She was starting to squirm.

And she started trembling again. “Would it be OK if we stopped long enough for you – or me – to take the vibrator out of my, um, ass? I’m finding it distracting. I promise I’ll submit to being bound up exactly as I am again.”

“Nope, we’re going to leave it right where it is. Now, the toys – where did you buy them?”

She swallowed, then started again, “I went to look online, but found the online retailers of sex toys to be – unsatisfying. Plus, the delivery would take too long.

“I didn’t know what I wanted, or what there was, or what the best way to use it, or…or, really, anything. What I wanted most was advice.”

“So, I changed tacks and started looking for BDSM websites. I found several, and a number had open forums. I had to register –“

“Did you use your real name and email address?” I interrupted.

“Do I look stupid? Of course not. I was able to get some very useful advice on a lot of things about being a ‘sub’ from the people on these forums. They were really kind to a … uh, you’re messing with my concentration. Please!…” she tapered off, licking her lips.

I just sat quietly. By this time, I had stopped massaging her ass, and was reaching down and stroking her feet and lightly up inside her shins, and she was wriggling in my grasp. “They were really kind, you were saying…?” I arched my eyebrow at her.

“A couple of them were subs, and they helped me a lot, and one of them was a mistress, and she helped, even though she was very condescending about it.”

“Occupational hazard,” I said. Now I was tracing lines around her knees, and she was opening her legs wider, as if to encourage me to move higher.

“Uh…” She licked her lips again, and moved around, as if trying to get comfortable.

“Yes?” I said. “I’m almost all ears…”

She swallowed, and seemed to be having difficulty deciding what to say, so I stopped everything, stopped touching her at all, and put my hands down by my sides.

She looked wildly up at me, and said, in a small voice, “Please don’t stop…”

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I heard you…”

“Please, Sir…”

“Dear me, you’re not making much sense, my dear slut. What is it you want? Speak up.”

“Please, Sir, you said I had to play with myself every night, which I did, but that I couldn’t cum without your permission…”

“That’s right.”

“I did as you said, but it was really hard, much harder than I expected. Now I need to cum, Sir, badly, please let me cum!”

“Why, my dear, go ahead. You have my permission.”

She looked at me.

“Go ahead,” I said.

There was silence. She squirmed. “But Sir, my hands are bound…”

“Yes, they are,” I said, helpfully.

There was a longish pause, then, “Would you please make me cum, Sir?”

“What will you do for me if I do?”

She gulped again, then looked me in the eyes and said, “I promise I’ll do anything you want. Anything at all.”

“Anything,” I said flatly, as I had a week ago.

“Yes, Sir. Anything…”

“In that case, do go on with your story.” And I resumed stroking her, but moved much farther down her legs, stroking the tops of her feet again.

She started trembling harder and her breathing became shallower. Finally, she began her story.

Research: Marta

“The subs I connected with online let me know that they were normal people, and that there was nothing wrong with me, either. I wasn’t going to burn in hell, as my mother would have told me if she’d known about what I was feeling.

“One of them actually said that it was the submissive in a relationship that controlled it, because they set the limits. I’m not sure I see that yet, but it’s an interesting thought.

“But mostly, what they helped me see is that I’m not alone, I’m not a pervert nor defective, that I am a healthy, normal woman with particular preferences in sex play. I found that incredibly reassuring.

“The mistress who helped me told me what kinds of things my dom – that’s you, Sir – might find appealing. I’m still thinking and researching them, but what I did this evening is a direct result of that conversation. Sir, was she right? Did I please you?”

He nodded, “You pleased me very much, Marta – once I got over the shock!”

I bit my lip, and took a chance to say, “Does it please you enough to let me cum now, please, Sir?”

“Go on with your story.”

I gulped, and carried on.

“I asked around on the forums whether anyone knew of a good place to get advice on, and buy, sex toys in the Princeton area. There are several in New York City, but there is one that’s highly thought of in this area.

She stopped, shivered so hard that her body shook in my hands, then swallowed, and continued, “I drove there, then walked up and down in front of the store front – which is almost completely non-descript, with blank windows, from the outside – for almost half an hour before working up the nerve to go in.

****

When I did go in, the young woman behind the counter looked up and said, “Hi! I’m glad you finally decided to come in. What can I do to help?”

She was distinctly younger than I am, perhaps her early 20s, with shoulder-length, thick, brunette hair, big eyes, the kind of figure I always dreamed I wanted, and a warm smile. She also looked relaxed, which I definitely wasn’t.

I was dismayed that she’d seen me, but I guess it wasn’t too surprising. I stumbled and wasn’t quite sure what to say, so she put me out of my misery.

“I’m guessing you’re in a new relationship, that you don’t know a lot about sex toys, and you’d like some advice. If I’m wrong, please forgive me, but that would be my best guess.”

“No, you’re absolutely right. I don’t know anything about this, and, yes, I would very much appreciate some advice.” Her no-nonsense, breezy tone made it much easier for me to talk.

“If I might ask, what kind of relationship is it?”

I was puzzled, which must have shown.

“I mean,” she said, “is it with a man or a woman, is it on the BDSM spectrum, is this a lead-up to a wedding or honeymoon – you know, that kind of thing.”

“It’s with a man – very definitely a man…”

She laughed. “Good! Relationships tend to be better with people who know who they are.”

I stopped, “That may be part of my problem. This is brand new to me, and, well, I’m not very good at sex…”

She looked at me. “You are stunningly beautiful. What is wrong with men these days?”

“No, it’s me,” I said, looking down, “I’ve been, uh, married to my work. But now I’ve met someone, and I’m, uh, not really sure what to do, but I need to do something for him. Something, uh, big.”

“OK, and what kind of relationship is it?”

I hesitated, then, looking down, said, “I want him to be my master; I want him to accept me as his slave.”

“OK, great. He must be a great guy. What did you have in mind?”

****

I swallowed hard, looked up at Sir and said, “Please, I’m not sure I can finish this story…”

He stopped what he was doing to me, and looked at me and replied, “Perfectly all right. We can stop now. Whatever you want. Of course, I’m going to have to change my pants. Your cunt is dripping all over me. Not that I mind…” Then waited.

I was practically panting at this point, and was sure that I was going to cum soon, with or without his permission, and his foreplay was driving me crazy. “Please…” I whispered, “please!”

He smiled at me and just shook his head.

“I’m not sure I can stop myself. If I could get on my knees, I would beg you. PLEASE let me cum!”

“You said you’d do anything I wanted. This is what I want. If you finish, then perhaps I’ll let you cum. Go on.”

I swallowed again, looked away from him, took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. And then, of course, he started stroking me again. This time on the insides of my wide-open thighs.

****

“I want to offer myself, like on a platter.” I said to the woman in the sex shop. “I’d like to be so submissive that he will have to accept me as his slave. And I have no idea where to start.”

“Hmmm. I have some ideas. Let me walk you around and show you some things.”

In a very relaxed way that made me feel much more comfortable, she walked me through the store, picking up various things, handing them to me, and describing what they were used for, and how. She also suggested a few books that might be useful, including some porn books – or rather, erotica.

I noticed that the prices were distinctly higher than things I’d seen online. But I was getting what I wanted – advice and comfort – and the items here looked like they were well made.

Over the next hour, she had equipped me with a number of toys – some of which you’ve seen – plus some light advice and suggestions, as well as a handful of books, both fact and fiction.

The total was a bit eye-watering, but I paid it without a quiver. She had been incredibly helpful.

****

“Were you attracted to her?” Sir asked me.

“What?” I said. “She’s a woman!”

“Yes, so you said, and a very pretty one. Were you attracted to her?”

I was so surprised, I almost forget where his fingers were.

“Of course not! What do you take me for?”

“A very attractive, sexy woman with a healthy, and hopefully open, mind. Did she say anything?”

I hesitated.

“Well?”

I swallowed again, nodded, and said, “As I was getting ready to leave, I thanked her for all her help. She smiled, gave me her card, and said, ‘It was my pleasure. Call me if you need a third hand.’

“I wasn’t entirely sure what she meant…”

“Sure you were.”

I paused, and said, “OK, I guess I thought I knew, but I dismissed it.”

“If you were told to have sex with this young woman, would you?”

I looked up at him, “You mean if you ordered me to have sex with her?”

“If you like.”

“But…”

“You did say you would do anything…”

I swallowed yet again, and tried to keep my voice level. “If I am your slave, I will do anything you ask of me. Yes, I would have sex with her if you ordered me. But please, I don’t think I want to.…”

“You can always – always – opt out with your safe word. That’s set in stone.”

I paused, took a deep breath, and said, “I said I would do anything, and I mean it. And I would try to make the best of it. But I have to tell you the thought – scares me.”

“Good. Now, how did you arrange to be outside my door, naked?”

I swallowed, unbalanced both by his comments about lesbian sex, and – especially! – by where his hands were, just south of my pussy, and stroking north. But slowly, very slowly.

I shut my eyes, took a very shaky breath, and started again.

“I had to think it through. I knew what I wanted: for you to find me naked, bound, gagged, and helpless, waiting for your pleasure…”

“And you were. And I loved it – and am still loving it,” he said, slowly petting my labia with his fingers, up one side, and down the other, staying carefully away from the center line.

“But logistically very difficult…”

“I just love a woman who can use words like ‘logistically’ while she on the verge of cumming…”

My whole body shook as he emphasized his words by lightly parting my cunt lips with his finger.

“Please go on. I’m dying with anticipation.” And the bastard smiled at me.

I took another deep breath – or tried to – and said, “I had your sweat pants and shirt from last week, and they would cover me well enough. And they would cover enough of the wrist and ankle cuffs that I could go out in public.

“I spent about a quarter of an hour practicing locking the cuffs on my hands. It was awkward, but I finally figured out how to lock my own hands together behind my back, and do it quickly.

“Then, this evening, I put a lot of lube up my ass, as well as my pussy (not that I needed it), and carried the dildo and butt plug, plus the note, the razor blades, and the smartphone in a plastic bag.

“That left shoes and a coat. It’s cold out, but I decided that since I was only walking from my door to the cab, and from the cab to your condo building door, I would put up with a cold ass and cold feet – and hoped it wouldn’t be in more ways than one.

“I prepaid the car, then almost chickened out when it arrived. I screwed my courage to the sticking point…”

He chuckled.

“…got in, and once I arrived here, there was no way to back out. I had no money, no key for my condo, and not enough clothing to do anything except come up here. I hope Joe didn’t get too much of an eyeful.”

“He’ll live. And he is absolutely discrete. He’s had a lot of practice.”

“When I got to your floor, I took everything out of the plastic bag, and threw the bag down the garbage chute for your floor. Then I hurried down to here, fitted myself with the ball gag, took off and folded the sweats, put them in front of me, put the vibrators in place, locked my ankles together, put the blindfold on, rang your bell, then locked my hands behind me.”

By this time, he was gently fingering me, working on my G-spot, and I was both writhing and moaning – all the time working hard to finish my story as quickly as I could. And now I had – and was about to lose my mind, desperate to cum, and hoping he would let me.

He was silent for quite some time, then leaned down and kissed me, softly pushing his tongue into my mouth. I welcomed his tongue with mine, shivering all the while. He broke, pulled back, and whispered, “You may cum now…”.

To be continued…