Story 3 of our SLUT series, in which Vanessa travels to a different town to experience an intense domination weekend

Adam and I played every Sunday. At the same time, I had four other men on rotation the other days of the week to satisfy my hunger. Looking back I know that a big part of my behavior was caused by commitment issues and an inability to develop deeper feelings for anyone. My large number of sexual partners was a useful tool in keeping them all at arm's length.

Adam and I indulged in the SM part of BDSM, and I enjoyed everything about it, but I still felt a growing need and curiosity towards the idea of complete submission. I was always looking for more play partners and more intense experiences. It was at this time that I met F on the internet. He was an “old school” dominant and it was clear through his writing that he had extensive experience in training subs for his personal needs. He was cold and formal and his terms were strict, rigid and non-negotiable. I was intrigued by it. To serve F I would be required to come to his home; It was 3 hours travel by train from the city I lived in. I should plan to stay with him for 3 days. He provided me with a clear list of his expectations and instructions. If I failed to follow his rules he would simply book my return train ticket and drop me at the train station.

While we were discussing the prospects of a meeting I expressed concerns about my personal safety during my visit - after all I didn’t know F at all. He answered me with a message that contained his full name and a link to the company where he was CEO. In the message, he also included a picture of his car registration plate and his address. The message read:

“I understand your concern. This is to ease your mind. Your instructions are to give this information to a friend. Before and after we meet you will call this friend and say you are ok. You will plan several of these calls throughout the weekend, and you will tell your friend to call the police if you miss a call. Now,; I certainly hope you plan to remember the times you have instructed your friend to await your call because I do not want the police on my doorstep. I hope this eases your mind enough to come and see me”.

It was a very simple idea and F’s upfront attitude did ease my mind.

The next day I visited Adam for advice and showed him the string of messages between me and F. We were sitting on his balcony and Adam read the messages slowly, furrowed his brow, scrolled back up - read again, grunted, took a drag from his cigarette - didn’t say a word. I expected him to tell me not to go, Adam was a protective type and very often a voice of reason when I presented ideas to him. He surprised me when he finally spoke; “You should go. “ He said, I looked at him and asked “really?” “Yea, he is serious. If he was planning to do something he could easily move on to someone who doesn’t ask that many questions but instead he sends you all his info. If you want to go, you should go.”

The following weekend I packed my bags and took the train at 12 pm. I was due to arrive at 3 pm and F would pick me up from the train station. He had already told me I would receive instructions on the way. I got the first one when I sat down.

Have you started?

I found my seat. The train leaves in 5 minutes.

Good. Are you wearing a dress?

No. But I have one with me.

Go into the bathroom and change.

I wrote him 5 minutes later that I had done as he asked. An hour before my train ride ended he answered.

Are you nervous?

Yes, I am.

Good. Next task: I dislike underwear, you should remove yours. It is better than you do it now then later.

I stood up again and removed my underwear in the bathroom. When I came back out I felt acutely aware of how short my dress was. My heart was pounding, it was July and the train was unbearably hot. My final destination was a small train station in the countryside. When I got off the train I couldn’t see F anywhere and it fuelled my nervousness. I went through his instructions in my head; I was allowed no physical contact with F If I felt like I needed reassurance I was permitted to give him a one-armed hug upon meeting him but not more. All physical contact thereafter would be initiated by him after asking my permission. I would do as he said at all times or he would know the reason why. If I wanted to leave I should tell him and he would take me to the train station without question or debate.

The people around me disappeared quickly, and I saw F standing by his car. He was tall and had black hair with some grey at the temples. The classic “tall, dark and handsome”.

I took my bags and walked towards him. He smiled and I hugged him briefly to get a sense that he was an actual person and to steady myself before the formal D/s to come. He smiled warmly at me for a split second and I felt a bit more at ease. We walked together to his car and he asked about my journey to calm me. He put my bag in the trunk and opened the passenger door for me before getting in the driver seat.

Now is the time to say you want to go if you have changed your mind.

I’m staying.

I’m glad to hear it, do you have to call anyone?

I took out my phone and called Adam. When I hung up F showed me the timer he had set on his phone; “We agreed that you were permitted 30 minutes with your clothes on after meeting me. When this timer runs out you have to willingly undress and present yourself.”

The feeling of adrenaline I had in those moments was indescribable and the situation and tension in the air incredibly arousing. F was calm and seemed completely at ease with the situation. He had years of experience and had played this scenario out countless times. I had no experience with formal Master-Slave relations, but I was feeling competitive. I knew how many girls he had sent away only a few minutes into this game and I was determined to best all of them.

When we arrived at F’s house I had the chance to make myself familiar with the surroundings. Firstly I was surprised. I had no idea F was so wealthy. His house was big, modern, and open and the selection of BDSM gear seemed never-ending. F was observing me while I admired my surroundings, he had a subtle smirk on his face. He was waiting for the timer to go off.

He was sitting on the couch and I was standing in the middle of the living room floor when it did. I froze. “Well,” he said, “Time is up.”

I felt as if I was in a trance. Time seemed to stand still. My adrenaline was racing. The situation seemed so tense and at the same time; presenting myself naked for evaluation turned me on. I took a deep breath, unzipped my dress and let it drop to the floor. F raised his brows, clearly trying to remain composed. He stood up and walked around me. We still had not had any physical contact since the train station. He studied me. My blonde hair and small breasts, the narrow hips and flat belly. When he walked behind me he brushed up against me by accident and I felt his erection against the small of my back. I bit my lip to avoid smiling; it was nice to see that the composed and dignified man who circled me had some reactions out of his control.

“May I touch your hands with my hands?” said F. I agreed and he grabbed my hands in his. Held them. “Look at me.” I looked up at his face. “May I touch you?” “Yes,” I replied. F smiled; “You do realize what you are saying yes to, that allowing me to touch you without specifications allows me to touch all of you - with all of me?”

I agreed again - it was time for the game to go further. Without saying a word F walked another circle around me before tying a blindfold across my eyes. I felt him grabbing my right ankle and lifting my leg to place it on the chair next to me. The room was completely quiet. I felt disoriented and vulnerable. I stood in the darkness like that for maybe half a minute while waiting for F to say or do something. I couldn’t hear him moving. The next thing I felt was Fs mouth against my pussy.

The weekend with F feels like a blur. I remember the stern punishments he dealt when I disobeyed him - I disobeyed often and it should have gotten me sent home, but it didn’t. He wanted to keep me. I remember being tied up on the couch while he was working, and that he plucked out my pubic hair with tweezers when I didn’t shave well enough. I remember masturbating in secret in his office while he was on a conference call to see if I could finish before he caught me and I remember my delight at having my secret orgasm quite literally behind his back. He had told me before how many he had sent home - but when I committed my many infractions or gave him cheeky answers he cheerfully punished me with whips or clamps instead of telling me to pack my bags.

On the last night after a longer SM session, F poured us some wine and sat down to talk to me. On the table, there was a stack of papers in a plastic folder. “Now I want you to listen, this is important.” He said, “I didn’t expect you to be like this. I didn’t expect to have this much fun, and I didn’t expect you to be so beautiful. So, before we continue I want to know where you stand because in this situation if you are not on the same page as me, it could potentially be very dangerous for me. I have no wish to be heartbroken. In the folder there is a contract, if you agree to continue I expect you to read it well. I am not looking to play at BDSM; I want a full-time slave, who is also my partner and in time my wife and mother to my children. The contract contains a reward system that leaves room for the progression of our relationship. Of course, you must tell me if you have questions or if you find anything to be unreasonable.”

I stared at the pile of papers, in a way it seemed so extreme, and at the same time, I admired F’s honesty and complete clarity about what he wanted. When I flipped through the contract it seemed exactly like him; clear and stern but at the same time reasonable and open to queries. I had to admire him for baring his heart like that, and I imagine that asking me to sign the contract to start our relationship was a very nerve-wracking thing for him to do. A part of me wondered what it would be like to sign the contract, the reward system was generous, to put it mildly. The agreement was simple: I should devote myself and my time to F and do my best to live up to his rules and standards for my self-development. In his turn, F would take care of me, including me in his life and taking me on trips and according to the contract marry me at a certain point.

“This is all very Fifty Shades of Grey” I mumbled. F snorted “Oh that book, I’ve had a few avid fans of the series here over the past couple years, but they didn’t last past the first day. While that’s a very funny joke it is perhaps not the time. This is serious to me.” I nodded “I like you F, but I can't say what I will feel in a month or half a year. I can't sign this until I know you better.”

F’s expression made it clear that it wasn’t enough and the following day we parted. F took me to the train station and jokingly told me he should have chained me in his basement when he had the chance.

My meeting with F happened while I was still contemplating going into the sex industry - and it did briefly cross my mind that signing F’s contract would mean an immediate end to my financial difficulties; it would however also have made me financially dependent on a man and I’m not that kind of girl.

Lede image by Jake Davies