A Story For Mister

"I like the way you were excited when you opened your email and saw this message. I like that you have probably already checked it today, maybe more than once, expecting something from me. And I want you to tell me that. Because I think not being able to stop thinking about it is very exciting, for you.

And for me.

Mister"

Her stomach flipped with a strange combination of desire, shock, and excitement as she let out a small noise, a combination between a sigh and a moan. How was it possible that he knew what she was thinking?

Kate had been speaking online with 'Mister' for about a week and a half. She had never seen a picture of him, and didn't know his real name. Yet she didn't even care. Every muscle, vein, and fibre in her body told her that she had to have him. Inside her. The things he said to her, the way he made her body ache for him, she could hardly bear it any longer. This was becoming past longing, past wanting... it had become a need that became stronger every day it went unsatisfied. She was hungry for him.

Many nights they had stayed up talking, telling each other every dirty little thing imaginable. Detailed descriptions, of what one would do to the other... had they been in close enough proximity.

Some nights Kate could hardly believe the things they said to each other. While she was not a naive girl, Kate had never belonged to anyone before, and the whole world that Mister had opened up her eyes to scared her at times.

She was scared of the things she wanted to do, or rather the things she wanted to let him do to her.

Viciously wanting him. She found herself night after night, literally on the edge of the chair in front of her computer, waiting for him to type his next message to her.

The things her called her, caused her soul to stir inside her. The names ranged from delicate (calling her 'my little girl') to possessive and sinful (calling her 'his little whore'). She couldn't decide which names she enjoyed more, but found the latter were quite effective in getting her aroused like only he could. Why had no one else known to call her these delicious names before? Or more importantly, how had she never realized that this was what she wanted? To be owned.

One uneventful and generic Tuesday evening, Kate logged on to her computer. She sat patiently waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Suddenly, just before she was about to reach the point of restlessness, 'Mister has signed on' popped into the bottom right corner of her screen.

She immediately felt a pulsing in her clit. Before either of them had even said 'hello'.

Mister says: There's my girl.

Her stomach flips once again.

Kate says: hello my darling.

Mister says: Did you enjoy my email?

Kate says: very much so. but a girl must wonder, how is it that you know so much? my reactions. the ache i feel in my stomach for you. it seems you know it better than i know it myself.

Mister says: I can feel you.

Mister says: You know I can.

Mister says: Sense you.

Kate says: could you sense that reading that made me nearly pass out?

Mister says: I wondered if it might. Because it felt so good that you might have never imagined or hoped for it...

Kate says: you know i am yours. yours to have. to do with what you please.

Mister says: You're only saying that because you want it so badly.

Kate says: is there any better reason to say such things?

Mister says: No, that's the only and perfect reason. I know everything. I know how you want my hands on you, hard, rough, soft, doesn't matter... for you to give yourself over to, to be shaped and controlled, guided and paced, forced and coerced, hurt and pleasured by.

Kate says: mmmm... could you feel my reaction to that?

Mister says: You were probably suddenly very conscious of your breathing. And you shifted.

Kate says: yes. i arched my back.... tilted my head back... exposing my neck.... let out a small moan

Mister says: I want that. To hear that. To know I own it. The moan, the neck, the back, the arch, the breath.... all of it. Mine.

Kate says: all yours. i promise.

They could have continued on like this for hours. Some nights they did. Some nights were graphic and explicitly sexual, others were playful. They exchanged sparkling, witty banter. Making each other laugh, talking about music, books... anything and everything.

Yet it somehow always came back to their favorite topic. It seemed almost as if they were addicted to it. Talking of other things was just a test to see how long they could abstain.

Mister says: I want to hear you say that now. Right now.

Suddenly, her phone rang. She nearly fell off her chair. She had never given him her telephone number, but he must have looked her up in the phone book, based on her email address. She stared intently at the phone. As soon as the voice mail was about to kick in, she picked up the receiver.

"hello..." she nearly stuttered. Confused. Aroused. Nervous as hell.

"Hello my little girl.."

His voice was velvet and gravel mixed together. She could immediately feel herself getting wet. Exactly how she had imagined.

Silence.

She had no idea what to say. She was scared that she would start rambling.... telling him minute details about different parts of her day, possibly like, what she ate for breakfast. So rather than risk it, she decided to keep quiet. Speak when spoken to.

"I trust that you had a nice day."

"yes, very much so."

"And you thought of me?" He laughed softly. She couldn't believe the beauty of his voice. It reminded her of single-malt scotch and cigars and all things men are supposed to be. "Of course you did, my little thing. I can picture you at your desk. Dressed so innocently. So professionally. Speaking with clients, with your boss, your peers. And meanwhile a slow smile creeps across your face as you think of me being inside you. Fucking you."

"how is it possible that you know all this?"

"I told you my darling. I can feel you."

At this, her body felt weak, her head got light. She contemplated her zipper. Whether or not to undo it. His voice was making her knees weak. Hypnotic. Powerful. Possessive. She moaned, and she knew that it pleased him.

"My little sweet whore.

I must go."

Her heart sank. She knew he felt it sink.

"I so badly wish I could stay on the phone with you. All night. Telling you how badly I want you. How hard you make me. Listening to you moan, sigh and squeal as I tell you all the horribly wonderful things I would call you. And all the beautiful things I want to do to you. And how much I want to own you.

But I must go now my little one."

"I will think of you my darling," she whispered into the phone, hoping she sounded as sexy as she imagined.

They exchanged quiet goodbyes. Practically no more than a whisper.

She hung up the phone and sat down. She thought she would pass out. She wondered what it was he was doing to her, how it was at all possible that she wanted these things. She felt his power over her already.

Control. Ownership. His. Beautiful. Perfect. Always. Whore.

These words, and others, spun through her head. She blushed, although she was alone and no one was there to see her.

But she knew that he felt it.

- - - - -

The November days continued to pass slowly, and Kate and Mister continued their telephone conversations.

Each night, they spent countless hours... telling each other everything. Every dark desire Kate had felt before, she now knew what it was. She had always felt this way, but she just never knew what to call it. Where to place her finger on it.

Like the name of a song you can't remember; that is on the very tip of your tongue....

Mister made her remember the name of it. He turned it up so loud inside her that she could feel it pulsing through her body, ripping through her eardrums, causing her heart to pound inside her chest.

Many nights on the phone, he made her come. Like she never had before. No one had made her feel this way. Ever. She had thought she was a seasoned veteran of the orgasm, until those nights on the phone with Mister. He got her hotter, wetter, weaker.. than she had ever felt before. With anyone.

Sometimes he would order her to come for him. She always did. Readily. It was a nice change from men who were always wondering, nervous. Wondering if they were even going to be able to make her come at all. Not him. He told her when she was allowed that sweet release. Or when she wasn't.

Because of him something in her felt alive. Not just her new found sexuality. But a new confidence. A certain something inside her. It was taking over. The way she walked. The way things smelled to her, or the way the wind felt as it brushed a strand of her blond hair across her cheek. Her smile. She was aware of herself now. She was ready for him.

They decided to meet.

The night (or 2 nights, or 3 nights before) Kate could hardly sleep. Between staying up late talking to her soon-to-be Master, and just simple restless excitement, she was barely functioning, only getting a few hours sleep a night.

The day of, she agonized over an outfit. Everything had to be perfect. Down to the very last detail.

She got a manicure, pedicure, bought a new pair of sexy black short-short boy cut underwear. She spent far too long in the shower. Exfoliating, moisturizing, primping and perfecting every inch of her body, shaving her long, lovely legs. As she gazed down at herself in the shower, those long legs he always talked about, and the rest of her lean yet curvy body. She imagined him staring at her. Exactly how she was at that moment. Devouring her with his possessive eyes.

She loved the feeling, and was excited, yet nervous to actually stand before him. To be coveted by him, inspected by him, admired by him. She was hoping with all her being that she would not disappoint him. She knew somewhere in her soul that she wouldn't.

After stepping out of the shower and drying off, she applied lotion that smelled like black cherries all over her body. Soft. Silky. Perfect. This is how she wanted him to see her. To feel her. She applied a few spritzes of her favorite perfume, in all the sexy places she told him she would.

She applied her make up, enough to look sexy, but not dramatic. Kate wanted him to see who she really was. His.

She got dressed in front of the mirror, and again she was imagining his eyes all over her. She slipped the underwear over her hips, and smiled. She was pleased with her image in the mirror, because she knew it would please him.

Slowly getting dressed, Kate put on one article of clothing at a time, and with each one she imagined his approval. Her dark, fitted jeans, not too tight, not so that she looked as if she was trying too hard. But certainly tight enough to show off the curve of her small ass. A soft cream colored sweater with a deep v-neck. Soft to the touch, innocent, but sexy as hell. Cream colored boots, high, just below her knee, with a lovely stiletto heel. He was 6'3", but she was easily 6' with the boots on. She wanted to stare him in the eyes.

She packed all her essentials into a small bag, and left for the train station. A nervous wave overtook her body. She couldn't believe she was actually doing this.

Men on the train stared at her. This caused mixed emotions for Kate. She was pleased that her primping and preparations had achieved the desired effect, however she was disgusted by these men. None of them could compare to him.

How dare they, she thought to herself. How dare they see me like this, look at me like that before he does. Use me for their pleasure, before he does.

She gave one of the men a disapproving look, and he turned away quickly, embarrassed. She smiled, pleased at herself. With each passing moment, and each mile the train barreled ahead to its destination, Kate's already nervous stomach grew more so. She couldn't believe this was about to happen.

They had arranged to meet in a dark lounge not far from the train station. A place that he had chosen. Classy. She liked that.

Kate arrived first, and sat in the far booth in the back left corner of the restaurant, as she was instructed to do. Soft music filled the air, along with the sound of wine glasses toasting to what she imagined were glorious things. She could smell the faint smell of cigars and men's cologne.

A waiter arrived at her table with a glass of red wine, though she had not yet ordered anything.

"Shiraz, for the lady. It is from the gentleman over there, at the bar."

The waiter motioned over his shoulder. She fixed her gaze on a tall, handsome stranger, one she had admired when she noticed him on the way in.

He had watched her walk right past him. She smiled and her heart fluttered. She knew it was him. She had told him about her fondness for Shiraz. They locked eyes as he crossed the floor towards her. He sat down next to her, and somehow she kept her composure when he put his hand, under the table, on her inner thigh.

"You are everything I wanted you to be and more. I am very pleased, my little one," he said in the same voice that had made her melt over the phone. His power over Kate was even more intense in person. She wanted him to take her right then and there. He had possessed her.

"I am going to kiss you right now. It may seem sudden considering we just laid eyes on one another. But this is what I want. And that is what you promised you would give me."

He placed his strong hand on the back of her neck, letting her know that he was now in complete control of her. She stayed completely still as he leaned in to kiss her. At first his lips pressed against hers gently, and she let out a small moan. His tongue quickly found its way inside her mouth, and she loved the way it felt. He was pushing his tongue into her, it felt almost as if it was against her will. But she couldn't have wanted anything more.

He squeezed his hand on the back of her neck as he leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"Everyone in here is staring at you. At you and I. Together. What a beautiful couple, they are all thinking. This handsome, successful man and his classy, striking blond. They probably think I am whispering sweet nothings into your ear right now. What they don't know is that now I own you. And tonight I am going to use you anyway I see fit. I am going to push you down on your knees and call you a whore and force you to take me into your mouth. And fuck you with reckless abandon. Emptying myself into you. And all over you.

Nobody knows this except you and I, my sweet little thing.

And I can't wait to get you home."

--------------

They finished their drinks, and ordered more. He drank bourbon on the rocks, and Kate slowly sipped her Shiraz.

They had lovely conversation. Normal. Talked about media, politics, society in general. Anything and everything. It made it all the more intense, that they sat here, both knowing what the other wanted to do, yet they stayed, and calmly discussed literature and other such things.

He still had his hand on her inner thigh, under the table.

At first it was resting there gently, but firmly. The waiter came back to check on them. When he was standing next to the table, she felt his hand squeeze tighter. Almost painful, she nearly cried out.

But then she realized. It was because he wanted her to know that she was his.

They ate. Bloody rare steak. More red wine. More light-hearted conversation.

At times she almost forgot the things they had discussed over the previous weeks. As she got lost in the moment, she began thinking, 'what a great date this is so far.' Then delightful shivers went up her spine when she realized this was no ordinary date, and all the things he would be doing to her later.

He took a last swig of bourbon, swirling the ice cubes around in the glass as he asked, "So are you ready to get the fuck out of here, my sweet little thing?"

She nodded her head yes. Almost involuntarily. Possessed.

They left the restaurant, and while walking to the door, he kept his hand firmly on the back of her neck. To passersby, it probably appeared affectionate. But they couldn't feel how strong his grip was. They couldn't feel the ownership.

Kate lit a cigarette as they stood out front. He stepped out to the curb and hailed a taxi. Almost instantly, one pulled in front of them.

He opened the taxi door for her. A gentleman in the street, she thought. Soon enough he would not be acting this way at all. He would use her. Call her the most horrible things one could imagine. And she would relish every moment of it.

They pulled up in front of his building. A nice condo, the type built for young professionals the like. Not too extravagant, but stylish and comfortable.

The elevator seemed to take hours. She noticed that he had never removed his hand from her neck. As they approached the door into his unit, he fumbled with his keys. Trying to find which one fit this particular lock. It was agonizing.

Success. The door was finally open and neither could have been more relieved. As they entered, he offered her another glass of wine.

"So you'd like me nice and drunk for this evening?" she joked.

"No my little fuck toy. I just want you to feel comfortable. Warm inside."

She accepted. He opened a vintage Cabernet from the wine rack and presented it to her in a large round glass with a long, thin stem. She admired the beauty of the glass itself, and was pleasant in her surroundings. He had a taste for the finer things. Art. Furniture. Everything.

Contemporary, not trendy. Masculine. Classic.

She was starting to feel comfortable. At home. She was standing, admiring a print he had hung on the wall. He came up behind her. Slowly and quietly. She didn't even realize he was there; until she felt his warm breath on the back of her neck.

He took the wine glass out of her hand, without saying a word.

Had this been a usual sort of date, Kate would have expected a sensual, soft kiss, possibly on the back of the neck, or earlobe. But she knew better.

Mister forced her, face first, up against the wall, right next to the painting she was admiring. It was now his turn to admire her.

With one strong hand, he held both her hands by the wrists, firmly behind her back. With the other hand, he squeezed the back of her neck and held her, he pressed his body into her to pin her up against the wall. Kate could feel his hard cock against her as he growled in her ear.

"I know you are very hungry my darling. And now it is time for me to feed you. I know how badly you want this." His voice was suddenly jagged. "Get on your knees, bitch."

Kate was paralyzed with desire, and fear. She felt her clit pulsing at his harsh words. She contemplated what to do.

"That wasn't a question, my little fucktoy, that was an order. Get on your fucking knees."

With that, he spun her around to face him, and forced her down to the ground. She looked up at him with fear in her eyes. Part of it real, part of it an exaggeration, as she knew it would please him. She was a fast learner.

She knelt down in front of him. With her head bowed. Servitude.

He unzipped and exposed his beautiful cock for her to lay eyes (and other things) on for the first time. With a few long, firm strokes from his own hand, it was rock hard.

He reached down to her and put his hand on her cheek and stroked it lovingly.

"My sweet little thing. I am sorry I had to be so harsh with you. But you need to learn to do as I say. When I say it. I would hate to have to smack this beautiful face of yours. It would almost be a shame to have to hurt something so pretty. Though I am sure you would enjoy it.

Silence.

"I am ready for you now."

With these words, she looked up into his eyes. He couldn't help but feel compelled by this girl. She was not like the others. She had a fragility about her, complexity. Not just some kinky whore who wanted him to do the sickest things imaginable to her, just so she could get off. She had a deep understanding of the power exchange they had begun. Despite her inexperience, he could tell Kate understood the beauty of submission. This pleased him very much.