Written by novemberguy

Other
6 Sep 2005


To set the scene, Selma and I had known each other online for a while, chatting and emailing regularly. We had tried to speak on the phone but, for various reasons, had little success. Our last call was cut short by network failure. Now read on.....

After our abortive telephone call, you wonder if I will contact you again or, indeed, if you want me to do so.

For a few days you hear nothing from me and, the initial fear that I won't contact you grows. Maybe you haven't proved yourself worthy and I have gone elsewhere? Then, early one evening, your phone rings and, as you answer it, you realise that that it is me calling.

'Selma, we were interrupted the other day but I was interested to hear that you like to play 'outside'! A bit of a misunderstanding there, I think, don't you?' I say in a soft, low voice

'Yes' you reply

'Yes, Sir!' I bark and you instantly respond with 'Yes Sir, Sorry Sir'

'Remember your training Selma. I only punish you when you are bad so your fate is in your own hands'

'Yes Sir' you reply, quietly

'Good, now, you are learning well but there is still some room for improvement. Your response to me should be automatic – I should not need to remind you of the correct form of address.'

'No Sir' you respond, your voice developing a slight quiver as you wonder what I have in store for you.

'Do not fear, Selma. I will not let any real harm come to you, you know that, don't you?'

'Yes Sir' you reply, knowing that this is the truth.

'Very well, dress yourself as you know a slut should dress and then wait for me to call again. You have an hour' and then all you hear is the tone of a disconnected call.

Quickly replacing the phone, you rush upstairs, shedding clothes as you go. Only an hour to get yourself ready! You'd better hurry.

Naked now, you go to your bedroom and start to get your clothes together:

A short black skirt, hold-up black stockings, a burgundy top – one that shows plenty of cleavage. You dither over whether or not you should include underwear and finally decide that you should so pull out a matching bra and panties set in black lace. All of this is finished off with a nice high pair of stiletto heeled shoes – your 'fuck me' shoes.

Leaving the clothes on the bed, you quickly run a bath to which you add some scented oils. They leave your skin sweet-smelling and soft.

After your bath, you quickly dress in the clothes you chose earlier and apply your make-up. It's a little heavier than you would usually wear but you know that I do like you to look like a slut. With a final slash of bright red lipstick, you are finished and, glancing at your watch, you se that you have made it with a couple of minutes to spare. Moving back downstairs, you sit on a chair by the telephone and wait for my call.

5 minutes, that seem like a week, drag by before the phone rings and you quickly grab it up and answer, saying 'Yes, Sir' without thinking and before I have even spoken

'Keen are we, Selma?' - you can hear the smile in my voice.

'Always, Sir' you reply, squeezing your legs together tightly. It gives you such a good feeling when you do that and, with a slight shock, you realise that as soon as you heard my voice, your pussy started to get wet.

'Good, Selma. I want you to go to the NCP car park in the centre of town, drive to the far left-hand corner of the basement level and park. Leave your car and go and stand in the corner, by the door to the stairwell. Make sure that you are facing the wall. It will be dark but don't worry, you will be being watched over. Be there in 30 minutes.'

Again you are left listening to dead air. I didn't even wait for your agreement but then, I didn't need to, did I? We both know you will do as you are told.

30 minutes doesn't give you much time so you grab your keys, dash out and drive to the car park.

Once you are there, you drive to where you were told. I'm right, it is dark. You've never been scared of the dark but never been that fond of it either so it is with no little trepidation that you do as you were told, locking up your car and walking over to stand in the corner. You face the wall, as you were told, and wait.

You don't have to wait long before you hear the slow, measured step of someone approaching you from the shadows. You realise that your knees are starting to shake – what if it's not me? What if it's a mugger?

Then you feel two hands on your shoulders and hot breath as you are kissed very gently on your neck. Then the hands are running down, under your arms to your breasts and they caress and weigh them softly, bringing your nipples out hard like two little nuts.

Then the hands are sliding further down your body and dragging your skirt up over your hips so that your ass, in its black lace panties, is exposed. You feel whoever is behind you drop to their knees and then they push your panties in from either side so that they are now no more than a thong and the quivering cheeks of your ass are now openly available. A soft kiss is planted on each buttock before a gentle squeeze.

Then both the lips and the hands are removed from you and you hear some rustling behind you that sounds like someone reaching into a bag. A few seconds later, there is a loud click and then you hear my voice.

'Good evening Selma. Glad you could make it.' There is a metallic quality to the sound and you realise that you are listening to a recording. Oh god! If my voice is recorded, who is stood behind you and has just been playing with your ass.

'The person who is with you is my agent and will not be making any sound. All you will hear is my voice on this tape recorder. You will do everything I tell you, as always. Now put on the blindfold you are being given'

You realise that the person behind you is holding a blindfold out to you, over your shoulder so you take it and put it on. It was already dark but now it is pitch.

After a brief pause, you hear me speak again.

'Good Selma, now move back from the wall a little and then bend forward and use your hands against the wall to brace yourself. You must be reminded of your failure to address me correctly. Accept it gratefully and silently'

Realising now that your whole body is quivering, you do as you are told and position yourself, bent over, against the wall. Without any warning, the first smack slaps against the flesh of your ass and you let out a small cry of pain and surprise.

'Selma, I'm guessing that, after the first smack was delivered, you were not silent. Was I right? If I was, you will get an additional 5 smacks. Any further noises will attract a similar addition.' Then there is a click as, presumably, the tape recorder is switched off.

A second sharp blow lands on the other buttock but you are able to choke back any sound. This is followed by a third then a fourth then you lose count as smack after smack rains down on your ass. After an age, the smacking stops and there is another click as the tape is turned on again.

'Selma, remember, I do this for you because I care. Now, remove any panties you may be wearing and then back into the braced position'

Your breathing is ragged and your face wet from a few tears that you were unable to stop but you do as you are told. You know that I am doing this for both of us and you trust me.

Once your panties are removed and you are back in the braced position, the tape is clicked off and you feel hands caressing your poor sore ass. Then there is a sudden coldness as some sort of cream or ointment is applied over both cheeks. Hands rub the cream into you and some of the rawness subsides although the underlying throb remains.

Then there are hands pushing your buttocks apart and finger dipping into your cunt. The pleasure of your punishment has meant that you are dripping, although, until that moment, you had not realised it. A number of fingers are unceremoniously pushed into your cunt, all the way to the knuckle. The suddenness is thrilling as your cunt stretches to accommodate them. Then another finger is added and you are stretched even further. Is he going to try to push his whole hand inside? Then a though occurs to you – what if it isn't a he! Your legs automatically clamp shut tight on the hand but are quickly pulled apart again. You are torn between the fear/loathing/disgust/excitement that you feel, wondering if it is a woman fingering you, and your need to obey me. In the end, your obedience wins out and you relax a little. After all, I did say that I would look after you.

The fingers are sawing back and forth now into you and your excitement starts to rise. Every few moments, your excitement subsides a little as you think about the possibility that it is a woman behind you but then it quickly picks up as the rhythm and pressure of the fingers inside you thrills you even more.

After several minutes of finger fucking, they are withdrawn but your emptiness is quickly filled with something that feels almost, but not quite, like a big hard cock. Then it starts to buzz and you realise that it is a vibrator. As the full length is pushed into you, you feel a buzz on your clit and know that it is one of the 'rabbit' type of vibrator – your favourite!

Abandoning caution to the winds now you start to push back and forth against the vibrator, fucking it harder and faster,

Your excitement becomes intense and you are rapidly approaching orgasm when, without warning, the vibrator is withdrawn. The sudden void inside you causes you to let out a slight groan of disappointment. Moments later, you hear the click of the tape recorder and my voice.

'You love to be left hanging but can't help moaning when your cunt is suddenly empty, can you? Assuming I am correct in thinking that you just made a noise, contrary to my instructions, my agent will be taking corrective action.'

At this point your feel hands go over either shoulder and then something pressing against your mouth – you recognise the feel of a ball-gag and, automatically, open your mouth to accept it. The hands tie your gag tight.

More rustling behind you is followed by the sudden swish/sting that you instantly recognise as a cane. The sharp pain causes you to wince but the gag prevents any noise escaping from you. The first blow is swiftly followed by four more – each landing in the same place and increasing the pain. A few tears start to run down your cheeks.

As soon as it began, the caning ceases and the vibrator is again thrust into you. As before, the fucking action and your excitement grow, in tandem. Is it going to be taken out again or will you be allowed to come this time?

Then, as you feel an orgasm start somewhere deep inside you, a hand snakes up and starts to play with one of your nipples. Despite still wearing your bra and top, you are so sensitive that you can feel every nuance of the squeezing, pulling and tweaking to which your nipple is being subjected.

That's it, that's the final trigger. Your orgasm builds, and builds until, it crashes through you like an earthquake. Your whole body shakes and quivers as you silently come. Your cunt is gushing juice over the vibrator and the hand that is now holding it still, pressed hard against your clit and deep inside you. You push back against it, seeking every last drop of pressure and pleasure that it can bring.

Then, as rapidly as it began, your orgasm is over and the vibrator is withdrawn. You hear rustling behind you as, presumably, it is being put away. Then my voice again.

'Well done Selma. Your blindfold will be removed now. Wait for a count of 10 and then you can turn around, dress yourself and go home. See you again.'

Hands remove your blindfold and gag then you hear someone walking away. After waiting for a count of ten, you turn around and, squinting into the darkness, make out a figure just disappearing back into the shadows. It looks like a man but you can't be sure. Will you ever know? Do you want to know? If it was a woman, will it happen again? You'll just have to wait and see!