Story: Yes, Sir! Part 1

Finally, she stood behind him, when he opened the lock. Another glance at his smooth, big and capable hands reminded her of the plenty weeks and month since they knew each other. They had spent hours on dates and comfortable private talks about nearly anything. Especially including their sexual preferences. He was an experienced top with a good reputation as a play partner. She had only started to discover her hidden, submissive desires. They were both smart and educated. She was careful and patient about any acquaintances, but since her first date he had made a positive, sensitive impression on her, nearly without any apparent efforts. She was glad they had exchanged the common commodities of their sexual kinks: likes, dislikes, limits, universal safewords, communication, and aftercare. And she had heard from several of his partners that these weren't just words for him. These were his beliefs which he carried out in his actions. Since then she had hoped for a proper moment in which they took off to play with each other. She had tried to tease him with some tempting moves and play of words, with clever innuendos based on the culture and vocabulary they both shared as insiders. Her hope was that he would take one of these opportunities to take control of her mind or body. One way or another she was curious how it would be as his sub. She hoped he would take her off to the skies. But so far she had never dared to ask, tell or even write him what had become one of her wildest fantasies.

When he opened his house door his suit showed he cared for a good, quality cloth with some discretion. A chill wandered down her spine. She had to suppress her urge to jump right into his arms or kneel down in front of him to accept her as his slave. But instead she maintained her gracious self-control. They entered the floor and without any more words he went right into the next room. First she stood on her weak knees and hesitated. Should she follow? Step by step she went into a room in dark and juicy yellow colors. Dark cabinets stood at the side walls. A big wooden grained desk took the place under the window. The pitch-dark night covered the emptiness of the garden outside. He noticed her coming in with a brief glance over his shoulders while he did something on his computer, so she guessed coming in was the right decision. "Close the door.", he told her, obviously without the usual politeness and friendly voice she had accustomed herself to.

She closed the door. When he came towards her, away from his computer, she saw a slideshow of pictures on the screen. It didn't take her long to recognize the similarities of the pictures. A woman on the ground or in bondage, often naked, in vulnerable pose or circumstance. The three or four different environments repeated with different women displayed. And then a male, black figure, exploiting the situation by applying any touch or different tools she had at least heard of. But there was no picture with visible faces. Here and there even some skin areas were blurred or blackened out. "Stand still.", he ordered. She pulled herself together, her eyes starring in the black void outside. Was this going to become what she had dreamed of? He hadn't ask her to come visit him after the pleasant evening and chat they had. He had just made the decision, and she hadn't rejected. Now she suddenly remembered an odd situation with him weeks ago. Instead of his usual attentiveness towards her needs and likes, he had pushed her into an uneasy situation. It even seemed he had pushed further into that direction until it was clearly at her discomfort. Until she had said "No." It had been as if she had hit a switch. Suddenly he had been the old gentleman again, apologizing his behavior until she was easily self-confident with her actions and being.

Now he had moved behind her back. "Isn't it much better for you this way? When I tell you what to do? When you don't have to make a decision?" She didn't hear any more sound from him, but she felt his presence right in her back, still inches away. The expanding silence assured her she was supposed to answer. Despite that she stumbled a shy: "Yes.". She did feel he was right, but her mind kept on to struggle with such a perspective. He continued harshly: "Yes, Sir. From now on you will address me as 'Sir', as long as I don't tell you otherwise. Understood?" This time she was quicker to respond: "Yes, Sir.". It came sharp and confident, though she wasn't. But she imagined him to smile now. Obviously he was satisfied: "Good. And now answer my question as rapid as you did. Yes or No. Do you enjoy to follow my orders?"
"Yes, Sir."
He increased his volume. "Do you like being ordered?"
"Yes, Sir." He started to move around her, shouting at her.
"Do you like to follow and obey?"
She increased her volume, too. "Yes, Sir."
"What did you say?"
"Yes, Sir!"
"I can't hear you. What was your answer?"
Now she screamed it out: "Yes, Sir!".
He grabbed the back of her neck, and a warm shiver went through her whole body. "Do you like to please me?"
She couldn't suppress her emotions to stream into her answer: "Yes, Sir!". Did she even want to suppress them anymore?

"Are you going to endure whatever I want to do to you?"
Without any hesitation: "Yes, Sir!". Her mind wandered off, starting to think of all the possible implications. What about her limits? But she was way ahead of her logic. This just did feel right. She felt good. Happy.
"Are you going to do whatever I tell you to do?"
She felt she made him happy. "Yes, Sir!". It felt good to make him happy.
"Even if it's much effort for you, or pain, or boring?"
"Yes, Sir!". That reminded her of some playful dares she had done. A warmth filled her heart and streamed to her physical edges.
"Even if it's embarrassing for you, humiliating, filthy?"
"Yes, Sir!". Oh yes, how much she wanted him to do such things to her.
"Do you want me to use you for my sexual pleasure in disregard of yours?"
"Yes, Sir!". Her breath grew deeper, stronger, heavier, faster. Her pelvis went hot.
"Do you want me to satisfy myself on the sacrifice of your dignity?"
"Yes, Sir!". That's indeed what she wanted. Her brain protested in a corner of her consciousness, but right now she was so sick of all the patience and prudence.
"Do you want me to take full control over you and exploit it for my interests?"
"Yes, Sir!". She wanted the moment. She craved for him.
"Do you want to have you my way?"
"Yes, Sir!". His way. Finally his way and not hers. What was her way now anyway?
"Do you want me to take and keep you?"
More of that. Of course. "Yes, Sir!". Her mind waved for attention: Wait what?
"Do you want to be my slave?"
She screamed with her full strength, with proud and will: "Yes, Sir!".

The storm had calmed. He went in front of her, taking his time to look at her from head to feet. She noticed the subtle smile on his mouth. His deep voice brought calm into the scene: "Drop your skirt."
She did as he had told her. Fortunately she had always cared for sexy lingerie whenever they had met. All for nothing so far, but now it paid off.
"Would you like to do anything I wanted with you?"
Hr voice adapted down to a calm, sexy whisper: "Yes, Sir.".
"Without any limits, slave?"
What was he talking there? He knew her limits very well. He had proven that several times in their conversations, even in the story details he had and especially in those he hadn't told her. Still, she followed her obsession and replied: "Yes, Sir.". Would he really ignore her limits? Now after all those sensitive behavior? Despite all the good things she had heard about him? She could use the safeword anytime, couldn't she. 'Mayday' for example always worked. The same for 'S.O.S.'. He had told her that himself.
"Would you like me to fuck your ass hard and rough, deep and fast without mercy?"
Ouch. "Yes, Sir!". Did she really want that?
"Would you like me to hate-fuck your ass, violating your body so hard it makes you scream in pain?"
Ah, she didn't like pain. She didn't like penetration. She didn't like anal. Any anal. Still she replied: "Yes, Sir!". Right now the thoughts put the fever into her, that he would do what he wanted against her will. That he would fuck her while she cried.
"Would you like me to fuck your throat? Right from your ass? As hard as I want? Just to satisfy me. Making you gag and cough for air?"
A little whimper dived up from within her: "Yes, Sir!". It was a twisted question, but she felt good giving him the answer he wanted. She wanted it now. Pleasing him gave her a purpose which filled her heart. When would he finally turn to the action. When would he grab her and have her his way, just as he had asked her?

Part 2