The first time I met Anna we didn’t speak. No sound passed between us. For my part, the only sound was some soft music in the background. It was a long time ago but I believe it was Beethoven. I might be wrong but either way, it’s not really important. What was important was that the silence was filled with messages, hesitant at first but quickly becoming bolder. I think I was more used to this than her at the time because I spent a lot of time chatting both at home and around the world. She, it turned out, was taking her first baby steps, not just in the world of idle chat but into one of a more intimate nature. 

Let me start from an earlier beginning. I have both a public and a private persona. They are kept separate, not through shame on my part but through the difficulty many of my friends and colleagues would have with my other lifestyle. To most of the world, I am simply a middle-aged lesbian with a nice middle-class job in a nice home. Even my best friends know me as such and accept me. I’m sure some neighbours must use me for over-the-wall gossip but, to my face, they are as friendly and kind as one could wish for. It is after work and in the privacy of my home that my more secret side comes to the fore.

In those moments I am a Mistress or Domme, call me what you will. Some of you may already be aware of the lifestyle, may even be part of it, in which case little more is needed in the way of explanation. Others may be completely ignorant or mildly intrigued. Although I have had one or two ‘girlfriends’ in real life, most of my work - and I do think of it as work - has been done online, sometimes via Skype but mostly via text chat. It may seem strange to the uninitiated but there are many women who enjoy and crave being submissive to someone else. Anna was one of those.

I regularly use a site designed for those of us who are into the lifestyle and want to meet and chat and occasionally get more intimate with each other.  I spend most of my time simply chatting with like-minded people and that's what I was doing on the night I met ‘shyanna’  - her on-site name. At first, she was a silent watcher in the crowd while I chatted away to other regulars. Then, at very rare moments, she would come out with a comment before lapsing back into silence. For some reason, her posts began to capture my attention and I started to respond with a comment. She began to comment more often and I got the underlying impression that here was a young girl who was a newcomer to the site and who was very nervous, almost frightened, to be there.

One evening I was chatting as normal when she logged on. After about an hour in among all the general chit-chat, we began to get a little rapport going and I sensed that she was beginning to relax. Her posts became very obviously directed at me. One regular friend in chat even joked that I had a new fan. Annoyingly, this sent her back into her shell and it was a few minutes before she posted again. As she had now piqued my interest, and to avoid her any further embarrassment, I decided to offer her the chance of a more private one-to-one chat and opened a chat box in her name.

Mistress_Christine: Hello shyanna.

There was then a long pause before ...

shyanna: Hello Mistress Christine.

Mistress_Christine: Please, just call me Christine.

shyanna: Sorry Miss. I mean sorry Christine.

Mistress_Christine: You’re fairly new here?

shyanna: Yes Miss I joined a few days ago.

I decided to let her use of the title Miss go for now. Aas many do, she seemed more comfortable when she used it.

Mistress_Christine: In that case welcome. Are you enjoying your experience?

shyanna: I am Miss mostly thanks to you chatting to me.

Mistress_Christine: The pleasure is all mine. What prompted you in here in the first place?

Here again there was a pause during which I brought her profile on screen. This claimed that she was nineteen (a year over the minimum allowed by the site), a lesbian, of average build and height, blonde, and of most interest, living very close by.

shyanna: I sort of found it by accident Miss. And it interested me.

Mistress_Christine: Interested in what way?

Poor girl, I was keeping her off-balance with all my questions.

Mistress_Christine: Does the D/s lifestyle interest you?

shyanna: I’m not sure Miss.

Mistress_Christine: Not sure? But curious enough to come in here, fill out a profile and start chatting?

shyanna: Yes Miss.

Mistress_Christine: I’ve read your profile.

shyanna: Is it ok, Miss?

Mistress_Christine: How long have you known you were a lesbian?

shyanna: Since about 13 Miss.

Mistress_Christine: And now you are looking at pastures new?

Again a pause.

shyanna: I’m not sure Miss.

Mistress_Christine: Tell me about your last girlfriend. Did she dominate you?

shyanna: Errr not really Miss

Mistress_Christine: Not really? What is that supposed to mean?

shyanna: I suppose she was more or less in charge

Mistress_Christine: And you were happy with that?

shyanna: In a way it was nice not having to decide everything

Mistress_Christine: Is she still around?

shyanna: No Miss she moved away

Mistress_Christine: And since then?

shyanna: Nothing Miss

Mistress_Christine: So now you are frustrated and thought to pick on me?

shyanna: No Miss please don’t think that

Mistress_Christine: Be that as it may I have to go now. If you are lucky I may be here tomorrow night

shyanna: I shall try and be here Miss

Mistress_Christine: Goodnight for now

shyanna: Goodnight Miss

And that, in essence, was the first conversation we had. She was interesting to me but not outstanding as a prospect although there was something that hinted of more to come. The true test would be tomorrow. Would she be there? Would she summon the courage to contact me? I was interested enough to want to find out.

But the next night I deliberately didn’t log on to the site. I thought I’d let her stew for a while. I needed to make it clear that I was not at her beck and call and that it was her job to wait for me. Two nights later, I finally logged on quite late and only half expected her to be there. I scanned the list of names and, to my surprise, there she was. I ignored her and started joining in with the general conversation and making it clear that I had arrived in the room. After about ten minutes her name appeared at the top of the page. I ignored this as well for a further five minutes before finally opening the box to see what she had written.

shyanna: Good evening Miss may I talk to you?

Mistress_Christine: You may

shyanna: I waited for you last night Miss

Mistress_Christine: I was busy elsewhere

shyanna: Of course Miss thank you for being here tonight

Mistress_Christine: I don’t have long but we can chat for a while

shyanna: Thank you Miss

I left a silence to see how she would respond.

shyanna: I really enjoyed our chat the other day Miss

Mistress_Christine: Do you have a desktop or a laptop?

shyanna: I have a laptop Miss

Mistress_Christine: Good ... kneel on the floor with the laptop in front of you

There was a slight pause

shyanna: I am kneeling Miss

Mistress_Christine: Good ... from now on when we chat you will be kneeling. Is that clear?

shyanna: Yes Miss

Mistress_Christine: How do you feel about kneeling for me?

shyanna: It sort of feels right Miss

And that was as far as I pushed her on that night. It is too easy to force a novice sub to go too quickly and frighten them away but I was pleased with the fact that she already showed a willingness to obey and seemed to be comfortable with being told to kneel.

The rest of our short time that evening was spent in mild questioning from me with useful information gleaned from her. She worked as a junior clerk in a bank and lived alone in a small flat on the first floor of a Victorian house. From what I could tell it seemed to be quite close by. This was both exciting and hinted at a need for caution on my part.

So it went on for a few more meetings. Slowly, I progressed her through various stages. After two more meetings she was kneeling in just her bra and panties. I asked her if she was aroused and she hesitantly agreed that she was. That night I left her in a state of arousal with the instruction to masturbate after I had left and to report back to me the next time, which she duly did. She gradually became less nervous and began to talk more freely about her feeling both in and out of chat. We also spoke more about her generally and, through snippets of information she let slip, I worked out that she wasn’t just living in the same district as me but that we were almost next door neighbours.

A couple of times on the way home from work, I drove past what I believed to be her home. It was a three storey Victorian house with high ceilings for both the ground and first floor. There was an ornate wrought-iron balcony across the front of the house that she'd once mentioned that she had access to through a French window in her flat. She said she would sometimes sit there on warm summer evenings. I just needed to confirm my guess.

Over the next couple of chats, I persuaded her to switch to Skype. For intimate chats I prefer it to the chat room as I’m no longer conscious of a roomful of inquisitive women next door and the continuous interruptions from other girls eager to play. We began by continuing with chat as she was comfortable with that. I was also still instructing her to bring herself to an orgasm after each chat. The night we first went on Skype I changed that instruction and forbade her to touch herself until I gave her permission. The disappointed tone of her chat was almost palpable but she promised to be obedient.

The next time we chatted, a couple of days later, I suggested we switch to voice chat as this would make life easier. I also felt, but didn’t mention it to her, that it would free up her hands. At this point she was still presenting herself for me kneeling and wearing her bra and panties. Eventually I wanted to switch to camera mode and I wanted her to reveal herself while being watched.

Using voice made it much easier to pick up the nuances of her feelings. Shs was nervous to begin with but slowly relaxed. There were brief pauses when I asked her awkward or intimate questions.

“Have you had an orgasm since we spoke last?”

“No Miss, you told me not to.”

“Good girl.”

“Do you want to?”

“Oh yes, Miss.”

“And will you ... after I’ve left?”

“Only if you say I can, Miss.”

“But you are hoping that I give permission.”

“Yes please, Miss.”

“I like a girl who is obedient. I am pleased with you so far ... and how is it ... talking and not typing?”

“You have a lovely voice, Miss.”

“Thank you. Your voice sounds even younger that you are.”

“A few people have said that, Miss.”

We chatted for about an hour during which time I didn’t make her do anything new as I thought getting her used to using her voice was enough for one night. There was just one more thing I needed to do before signing off.

“I am going soon shyanna.”

“Oh Miss ...”

The sadness in her voice was clear. I left a pause before replying.

“I am sure you are waiting for my permission.”

“Yes Miss, please. If you please, Miss.”

Her voice had a satisfying pleading tone.

“Not tonight. You can wait a little longer. I shall be back here in two days, you can wait till then. Understood?”

“Yes Miss,” came the faint reply and I detected a slight sob.

“Now goodnight to you and straight to bed.”

“Yes, Miss and thank you for being here tonight.”

I logged off before she could continue. I felt the whole evening had gone well and yet another step had been taken and a fun-filled future lay ahead.

I left her hanging for a few days, four to be exact rather than the two I had suggested. I needed some time to plan my next move and she needed time to learn obedience and for her frustration to build up. On a day off, I drove past her house before doing a circuit round the block and parking opposite her. More in hope than expectation, I tried my lap top and, much to my amazement, there was a decent signal that I could tap into. I tried various websites just to check and it seemed fairly reliable. This immediately set a plan in motion for the future.

When evening came, I logged in and pressed the call button and she answered almost immediately.

“Good evening, Miss.”

“Good evening, shyanna. Have you been a good girl?”

“I haven’t played with myself if that’s what you mean, Miss.”

“Then you have pleased me. I want to try something different this evening.”

“Yes Miss, whatever you want, of course.”

“Time to take a look at you I think. Click on the ‘camera’ icon.”

There was a slight delay and then a cam request came on my screen. I clicked on ‘accept’ and, after a short delay, she appeared on my screen. In the corner there was a small black square which should have been me but I had covered my camera with black sticky tape. I silently examined the image of the semi-naked girl knelt in front of the camera. She looked younger than her claimed age and appeared to be slim, quite slight in build. She wore a pink bra and, even to me, shockingly tiny panties also in pink. I watched her lips move slightly ahead of the voice coming out of the speakers.

“Hello, Miss.”

“Hello shyanna, it’s good to see you at last. You’re looking lovely in pink.”

“Thank you Miss. Errr... I think your camera may be broken, Miss.”

“Its fine, I’ve just covered it over. You have to earn the right to see me.”

“Yes Miss, I’m sorry, Miss.”

“Sit up straight so I can see you properly,” I told her, affecting my most stern voice.

The image on the screen visibly stiffened and her back arched pushing her small breasts forward.

“You are very pretty, shyanna.”

“Thank you, Miss.”

“It's time to take off the bra, I think.”

I sat back and watched as she slowly reached behind her and unclasped the strap. Slowly, shyly, she let the shoulder straps slide down her arms and finally she removed the bra entirely and laid it on the floor next to her. I could see her hands twitching, desperate to cover herself, but she managed to control her instincts. Her breasts were small but very pretty, very suited to a young slim girl.

“Hands behind your head and back straight,” I commanded her.

Slowly she obeyed and her posture made her breasts stand out. Even with the poor quality of the image I could see her nipples standing out. It was an image to gladden the heart of any red-blooded Mistress.

“I imagine you are quite aroused.”

“Oh yes, Miss.”

“I have made you wait for some time, have I not?”

“It was what you wanted me to do, Miss.”

“Exactly. Now that final scrap between your legs. Tilt the screen slightly and stand up.”

The image on the screen tilted to show the top of the wall behind her and part of the ceiling all blurred by the movement of the figure in the foreground. Eventually, she stopped moving and stood still facing the camera. I was pleased to see that she resumed standing with her hands behind her head. A tiny triangle of pink cloth covered her pussy and I could detect the folds of her lips behind. It could have been my imagination but I thought I could detect a slight darkening of the fabric where it disappeared between her legs.

“Turn with your back to me.”

By now fully settled into obedience mode, she did so. The string of her panties was hidden between the cheeks of one of the nicest bottoms it has been my pleasure to see. It was pert and well-toned with no hint of suntan lines.

“Turn to face the camera again and take them off.”

With an almost dreamlike slowness she turned to face me again. Hooking her thumbs into the sides of her thong, she slowly lowered it down her legs. One foot at a time she stepped out and tossed it aside before resuming her stance. Even with the grainy image I could see that she was clean shaven and that there was no hint of a tan line.

“Kneel back down.”

She did so immediately and once more placed her hands behind her head. Her eyes were lowered looking at the floor.

“Look at the camera, shyanna,” I said softly, “And spread your knees wide. Nothing should be hidden. "

Slowly she lifted her head and looked into the camera and slid her knees wide apart. Her pussy lips parted slightly and I could see a slight glint of moisture.

“Good girl. Tell me how you feel.”

There was a long hesitation before she replied, “Very exposed, Miss. But also ... it feels sort of okay.”

“Okay in what way?”

“It feels right to be like this for you, Miss.”

“Are you aroused?”

“Oh god yes, Miss.”

“I have kept you waiting for an orgasm for some time, haven’t I?”

“As you saw fit, Miss.”

“I think you are starting to enjoy your new slutty role.”

I could see the blush spread over her and she averted her eyes away from the camera but I was pleased that she hadn’t baulked at the term ‘slutty’. Time to press home that advantage.

“Look at the camera, slut,” I snapped. Her eyes immediately flicked back and shock flitted across her face.

“Did I say you could look away?”

“No, Miss, I’m sorry.”

Again she didn’t flinch at being called a slut. This was good news but it was time to take it up a notch. Women, especially young girls, have many pet names for what lies between their legs. I decided to come straight to the point and use the ‘C’ word. I was interested in how she would react.

“Use one hand to reach down and spread your cunt lips.”

Her eyes opened almost imperceptibly but I watched her right hand slowly descend. It trembled slightly as it reached between her legs and parted her lips to show me her pink, wet cunt.

“My slut is very wet, isn’t she?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Put two fingers inside yourself.”

Her fore and middle fingers slid inside, slowly disappearing. They went in easily and she half-closed her eyes as they did so.

“Now take them out and taste them.”

Hesitantly, she slid them out and lifted them to her mouth. I got the sense that this was new ground for her.

“You have tasted yourself before I assume?”

“Errrr ... no Miss.”

“Another woman but not yourself. Such innocence,” I said mockingly, “Well do it.”

Nervously, she put her two fingers into her mouth.

“Tell me what they taste like.”

She struggled to find the words before she replied, “Slightly bitter, Miss, but very nice. I wish I’d done that before.”

“Good girl, now put them back in your cunt.”

Almost eagerly her hand went back down and her two fingers slipped inside once more.

“Slide them in and out slowly. Does that feel good?”

She nodded her head not trusting her voice. I let her continue at a slow pace for several minutes before commanding her to speed up slightly. I could tell she was beginning to struggle with a rising orgasm.

“Remember to ask permission before cumming, slut.”

“Y-y-yes, Miss.”

Her voice shook as she replied. Her eyes were half closed but still fixed on the screen and the small image of herself.

“Now faster and deeper.”

She obeyed instantly.

“Use your other hand to play with your clit.”

Her other hand came down to join in and she started to gasp and the occasional moan escaped from her mouth. I knew that she wasn’t far off.

Then a trembling and desperate voice, “Please, Miss may I ...”

“No,” I cut her off, “keep going.”

For a moment I thought she would burst into tears but she just made a quiet sobbing noise and continued plunging her fingers in and out with one hand and rubbing her clit with the other. She was so obviously close to breaking point.

“Please, Miss.”

“Hands behind your head,” I almost shouted at the screen.

She froze in disbelief before slowly removing her hands and placing them behind her head. A single tear trickled down her cheek.

Eventually, and almost in a whisper, she said, “Did I do something wrong, Miss?”

“I decide when you can cum. Your orgasms are under my control. I have decided not to allow it tonight.”

“Yes, Miss.”

A look of utter disappointment spread over her face.

“We will continue this tomorrow evening. You will log on an hour earlier, freshly bathed and with a newly shaved cunt, and presented as you are now but without the silly tears.”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Now log off and go to bed.”

I clicked the ‘End’ button and the screen went blank. Had I been too hard on her? I would find out tomorrow. For all I knew she might be frantically playing with herself. But a part of me believed that she wasn’t and that, as frustrated as she must be, she would be obedient. She had come a long way in one night. I was looking forward to tomorrow and her final release of tension.

The following evening I put my plan into action. I drove round and parked almost exactly opposite her house. As it was the height of summer, a couple of hours of daylight remained and her house shone an orange gold as it faced the setting sun. I was parked in the shadows cast by the houses opposite and I hoped that the combination of those shadows and the light shining in her eyes would serve to keep me obscured from view. For a few moments, I quietly sat looking at her glass covered balcony door and imagining the young girl inside already kneeling and naked waiting for me to come on line. I let her wait for a few more moments and then switched on my laptop, searched for and connected to a signal, logged on, and clicked on ‘Call’. Her response came almost at once.

“Good evening, Miss.”

“Good evening, shyanna. Or should I call you slutanna?”

I examined the image on my screen. She was as I had imagined, dutifully knelt, her nakedness on display and her hands properly placed behind her head. However, she seemed, even over the internet, to be nervous and jittery.

“Whichever pleases you most, Miss.”

“Then we shall start as we mean to continue and call you slutanna. Are you excited about this evening?”

“Oh yes, Miss.”

“And already aroused no doubt.”

Her eyes lowered before she answered, “Yes, Miss.”

“Show me. Open your knees wider.”

Slowly she did so and I could see the wet shine on her pretty cunt.

“Have you been playing with yourself already, slut?”

“No, Miss, I promise.”

“I believe you. Well, slutanna, are you ready for an adventure?”

“Oh yes, Miss,” she replied and I saw the eagerness on her face.

Behind her but slightly to one side, I could see the pair of doors to the balcony. The evening sun streamed through and lit the room.

“Turn the laptop slightly so that it frames the doors to the balcony.”

“Miss?”

“Just do as I say.”

She leant forward and the image on the screen shifted. The pair of doors now filled the screen.

“Stand up and go over and open the doors.”

“But it looks onto the street, Miss.”

“If you're not going to do as you’re told, I might as well sign off now. Do you want that?”

“No, Miss. I’m sorry, Miss.”

I watched as she scrambled to her feet and walked to the doors. I looked up and there she was, lit by the dying sun, scrabbling with the lock. She opened the doors into the room and stood back almost out of sight.

“Can you still hear me?”

“Yes, Miss, can you hear me?”

“A little distant but it's fine. Go and stand in the doorway.”

I watched as she crept forward and stood just inside the threshold. Instinctively, her arms and hands came forward to hide herself from the outside world.

“Now stand proud and straight. Hands behind your head and feet well apart.”

“Miss, do I have to?”

“Do it or say goodbye.”

I watched her hesitate before slowly straightening up and moving her hands out of the way and placing them behind her head. Her feet moved perhaps a foot apart.

“Feet much wider. Then look up proudly, ignore the street below.”

She shuffled until her feet looked almost uncomfortably far apart and her head came up. And there she stood, her body painted a golden orange by the setting sun, her breasts pointing directly at the sunset and her wet cunt glistening in the dying rays. On the screen I could see her almost black silhouette framed by the bright window. The shadows of the houses opposite had already reached the base of her building so I had a limited time left, maybe thirty minutes, but I dare not rush her.

“Even from behind you look so proud and beautiful, my lovely slutanna.”

Faintly, her trembling voice came back, “I’m scared, Miss.”

“Of what? Of the world giving you the adoration you deserve? Anyone who sees you will be in awe. Even the sun adores you.”

For a few moments I looked at both views of her in silence. Something about her body language told me she was slowly relaxing, even taking pleasure in her position. The shadows were starting to creep up the wall below the balcony.

“Take one hand and touch your cunt. Tell me how aroused you are.”

I watched a nervous hand appear from behind her head and travel slowly across her body and reach between her thighs. Just for the briefest moment her knees buckled before she regained her composure.

“Oh fuck, Miss, I’m so close.”

“Remember, only when I give permission.”

“Please, Miss, I so need to cum.”

“Spread your cunt lips. Offer your cunt to the sun.”

From a distance I watched her prise the lips apart and her hips came forward as she brazenly showed herself off to the sun and to the world. And, unknown to her, she showed herself off to me.

“Put two fingers inside your cunt. Slowly in and out. Enjoy this moment.”

Her hand moved between her legs but she was too far away for any observer to see exactly what she was doing. The shadow was now within a foot of her balcony and creeping higher.

“Your other hand. Stroke your clit."  I tried to keep my tone somewhere between kind and commanding.

Her other hand moved quickly down to cover her clit and almost as soon as she touched it her desperate voice came from my speaker. Even with her laptop behind her and back in the room the urgency was clear.

“Please, Miss, please. Please let me cum.”

A short silence before, “Yes, cum for me my slut.”

She gave out a muffled yell that was clear through her microphone and  I was sure, had the car window been open, I could have heard it in the street. I watched as her hand left her clit and she groped for the door jamb in an effort to steady herself and then her knees gave way and she sank to the carpet. Her head slumped forward and I could hear her ragged breathing quite clearly as she struggled to regain her breath. The shadows now covered her body but, when she briefly lifted her head, it was still lit and I could see the shine of tears on her face. I could only hope they were tears of joy.

As gently as I could, I spoke to her. “Rest for a while there. When you are ready, close the doors and go back inside. I am still here with you.”

The sky was darkening already and the indoor lights were beginning to reclaim possession of the space. I watched the hunched figure carefully as she took deep breaths, her shoulders lifting each time. Slowly, her back straightened and then finally she began to move. Very slowly, and staying on her knees, she moved back slightly and, one after the other, she closed the double doors, shutting away the outside world. All I had left was the coarse screen image.

I watched her turn and crawl towards the lap top and settle in front of it. It seemed to take some effort but, little by little, she knelt, spine straight and her knees spread wide. Finally her hands went to the back of her head and she looked straight at the camera. I was right, she had been crying; her cheeks shone in the light from a lamp somewhere to her left. Her eyes were slightly glazed over and she was still breathing heavily but she had a lovely smile across her face. Her pussy and thighs also shone from her juices.

“Good to have you back, Anna.”

“Thank you, Miss, oh my god thank you so much.”

“You were wonderful. I can no longer call you shyanna. From now you are braveanna.”

“I’m not brave, Miss, I was so frightened out there.”

“And you went ahead and did as you were told despite that. You are definitely braveanna.”

“Thank you so much for tonight, Miss.”

“As long as the previous nights were worth it.”

“They were, Miss. I didn’t understand them at the time, I just thought you were being nasty but now I think I understand.”

“Good girl. Are you warm enough? Do you need a blanket or anything?”

“I’m fine thank you, Miss, just a little messy.

“Messy is good. You can clean up in a short while. Do you want to cum again?”

“Do you mind if I don’t, Miss, I want to savour this one a little longer. But ...” and she hesitated and looked away from the screen, “may I cum later ... with your permission of course.”

“Of course you may. And this time not in public.”

“Thank you, Miss”

We chatted for a while until I was sure she was really fine before I let her go for the evening, wishing her a lovely orgasm for later. After I logged off, I sat in my car as the street darkened around me and the lights in the houses came on, one by one, and the streetlights bathed the area with their orange glow. Then I started my car and drove home. I was surprised at how exhausted I felt so went to bed almost immediately and fell quickly to sleep.

We later enjoyed many sessions together but none quite as intense as that night. I saw her a few times around town but she never recognised me. She even served me one day in her bank when I had to go in there on business. One day, she sprung on me the surprise that she had a new girlfriend, a colleague at work. She asked my permission for some time off from our chats, which I gladly gave her. After that we spoke only occasionally. She seemed very happy with her girlfriend for whom she was delighted to be submissive.

All this was many years ago and we have lost touch. But I still remember her fondly and hope that she reads this and recognises herself, and that she, too, has fond memories of that night.