Isabella
Mr L had a knack for always interrupting the rhythmic hum of my vibrator. He's always making me stop. But I don't mind because theses days I'm tired of masturbating on my own, anyway. I need a master's touch. A master's voice.
If my mind isn't present while I'm touching myself I won't be able to orgasm so It was better I stopped for now.
I wondered why he was acting so weird today.
Me: Mr L, I don't have another master. Why will you think I do?
Mr L: Don't lie to me, baby girl.
Me: I swear, I'm not lying.
A ping from Mr. L announced the arrival of a new message, this time adorned with a link to a blog post. Intrigued, I clicked, and my screen flooded with the title, "Why I Need a Dom."
The page was a collection of responses, gotten from the interviews of countless subs in the city though they remained anonymous.
Each was asked why they needed a Dom?
Some sought the thrill, others financial gain and a few said they were driven by past trauma.
But it was the narrative of a woman yearning for paternal love that struck a chord within me. Her words painted a portrait of longing, of a childhood devoid of affectionate guidance. I could almost feel her ache as she described the absence of a gentle hand on her head, the void left by the absence of a father who ran away with his mistress when she was just give.
Her story resonated deeply, echoing my own unspoken desires, and I couldn't help but empathize with her quest for a Daddy Dom to fill the paternal void she had endured for so long.
Mr. L: So, what makes you feel you need a Dom?
Me: Growing up, my father was abusive and frequently intoxicated, while my mother tirelessly worked to provide for us. I lacked proper care and support. However, in high school, a teacher stepped in to offer guidance and support. He was always telling me what to do and I found that I quite liked it. Although he never crossed any boundaries, I mistook his kindness for something more. That experience taught me the importance of nurturing and parental care. And from them on, I just sought a master-sub relationship.
Charlotte mentioned that she gave herself completely to Mr. L even if it was just an online BDSM. Maybe I can do it as well. If Charlotte said he's good, then he is. I'm sure he's not someone to post our intimate chats online so why not be honest with him?
Mr L: I see. Did anyone make you touch yourself?
Me: No. I told you already that I frequently masturbate to force myself out of feeling tensed and anxiousz
Mr. L: Does it work?
Me: It can relieve some anxiety. Well, It does most times, but it is also easy to fall into new emptiness afterwards.
MR.L: I know what your problem is. You find it difficult to control emotions, and now because of work, it is easy to be nervous, so you hope someone can be by your side. To lead you.
A smile spreads across my face, relieved that Mr. L seems to grasp where I'm coming from. It's refreshing to have a deeper conversation with him, and I find myself feeling drawn to him in this moment. I didn't expect him to understand me so well, but I'm pleasantly surprised.
Mr. L: So baby girl, be honest what do think about me now.
Me: Sending coffee to my boss was really really a tough punishment, but strangely, after doing it, that fear I had towards him doesn't seem as daunting anymore. Turns out, he's not the demon I made him out to be in my head. I was doubting if you could be a good master earlier, but now I think about it more clearly I think you will be. I like it when my punishment is exciting but also very hard.
Mr L: I am the best master there is for you, baby girl. You will find a perfect balance with me and soon you will be the perfect sub.
Me: So what are you saying?
Mr L: Are you still masturbating?
Me: No, I paused. Sorry. Did you want a video?
Mr L: No. But next time tell me. when you want to stop ask. Do you understand?
Me: Yes, I do.
I swallow.
Mr. L's delay in asking for a video call made me trust him more. It seemed like he wanted me to feel at ease before moving forward. It showed he had a deep understanding of building trust in a BDSM relationship.
Mr. L: I appreciate your honesty, Isabella. Just promise me you won't lie again.
Me: I won't, I promise.
Me: So, did I pass your "sub test"?
Mr. L: There wasn't a test. I've been drawn to you from the start. You're different from the others.
Excited, I let out a squeal and did a little victory dance.
Me: Does this mean I can call you master now?
Mr. L: Yes, but there's one more thing. You have one more punishment for lying.
Me: What's it?
I typed already getting excited thinking about it. A thrill runs through me.
Mr. L: How about a video call?
Me: Absolutely, yes!
Mr. L calls on video, but his face remains hidden, only showing his waist down. He's dressed in a sleek pantsuit, and the backdrop suggests he's in a hotel room, with drawn curtains hinting at the early morning outside. I can't help but wonder where he is.
"Focus on me, not my surroundings," Mr. L orders, his seductive British voice sending shivers down my spine, oddly familiar yet stirring a newfound desire within me.
I comply redirecting my attention to him, but my gaze drifts to his waistline, where I notice another small tattoo, this time with unfamiliar writing. Intrigued, I'm curious about what language it might be in.
"Lie down straight." He instructed.
I obeyed and lay straight on the bed, observing as Mr. L lowered the phone, and I saw the biggest cock I've ever seen in my life. He was so damn hard already.