Erin’s Journey into Servitude

I set two places at the table and open a bottle of wine. “He should be home any moment,” I think to myself.

My name is Erin, I’m 27, short with long blonde hair and green eyes, and just a little bit curvy. My Master is 42. He’s a tall man with a commanding air about him. His clean shaven face has a very chiseled, rugged look to it, without looking tired. His hair, black with a bit of grey beginning to show, is cut short and always nicely gelled and combed. The thing that makes him stand out the most, is the fact that he always dresses from head to toe in black. His clothes are refined yet simple. A close fitting suit taylor made just for him, black button down shirt, black satin tie, Italian slip on shoes. He always wears the same thing when he’s working at his office, and on his days off he’ll opt for black jeans, a button down shirt, and a leather jacket if he’s going out…always black. But let me tell how I ended up here, as his slave serving him in his beautiful home.

I moved to NYC right after college. I’m from a smaller town just outside of Buffalo. My dream was to be a writer, a journalist, and I had the highest aspirations, but found nothing but bitter disappointment. I had managed to get a job in one of the larger papers, but the tasks I was assigned were menial, the hours awful, and the pay even worse. At 26 I was exhausted, barely making rent, hated my job, and had no personal life.

One night I registered a profile on a fetish dating site, and honestly, it was more as an escape from reality than actually thinking I’d find someone. I’d always been a bit different than most girls. I’d read that famous fetish book, you know the one. It changed my life. I’d search the internet for erotic stories, for porn that fit my taste. A lot of it was too violent and awkward, but every so often I’d find something I really liked, something sensual, yet erotic. While all my girlfriends in college were out getting laid, I was holed up in my dorm room, with an erotic book or a bdsm video on my phone, and my fingers down in my panties. My black sheer lace panties. I had ten slightly different pairs them which I always wore under every outfit, even my sweats, because they made me feel sexy, feminine. Regular sex just didn’t have any real appeal to me, there had to be that erotic element of bondage, submission, control. Without that I couldn’t cum.

As soon as I opened my profile on the site messages came pouring in, practically all lewd, some with unsolicited bağdat caddesi escort photos of guys showing off their mediocre to average cocks. Some saying what they’d like to do to me and how they’d do it. It really put me off. After about a week I was nearly ready to delete my profile when I got a message. Very polite, very respectful, from a gentleman that explained he was looking for a possible long term relationship with a younger submissive. Explaining his situation in life, and requesting the honor of getting to know me better. The message was written so strangely, like some kind of duke out of the eighteenth century penning a letter to the lady of his heart’s affections. I clicked on the photo to enlarge it, there was only one. This guy is too old for me, was my first thought. And yet he was handsome, and had a very energetic look about him. His charm and respectfulness were impeccable, so, I wrote him back. Thus began my relationship with the man who would love me as no man ever had, and I him. We corresponded for three months, and talked on the phone several times. His voice was deep and rich in it’s tone, it simply made my toes curl. Finally we met one day near the fountain in Central Park. We spent a lovely time together, and much to my embarrassment he insisted on taking me shopping. He found some rather stylish black dresses that I loved, a pair of amazing Louboutin open toed heels that I would never have bought for myself, and the underwear! He knew from our conversations my affinity for beautiful undergarments. He bought me several pairs of stockings, the kind with the seam up the back, two sets of panty, bra, and matching suspender belts, all of exquisite quality black lace, and one very beautiful bustier. For himself he bought a very few things, but, oddly enough I thought, he bought five neckties for himself, all of black satin. I was soon to find out what the ties were for.

After a meal in a very nice French restaurant, we went back to his home. Now some people might call me a golddigger or a whore, but with him everything he did for me was made to feel like it was his greatest privilege to be able to treat me. Even when I tried to protest he said I simply had to have this or that… that one need not have many clothes, but those you have must make you feel your best self when you wear them. I was not pressured or manipulated into going back to his place, rather I wanted to be his from bağlar escort the moment I saw him.

He led me upstairs to his bedroom, and once inside, he pulled me close to him and kissed me sensually. I had changed for dinner and was wearing one of the black dresses, and lingerie that he had bought for me. His hand went up my thigh as we kissed and pushed up my skirt. His fingers slipped into my panties, into my wetness. I gasped but my mouth was stopped by his kisses. My dress was soon slipped off, my bra undone and thrown to the floor. He put me on the bed. My breasts were exposed but I was still wearing the little lace thong panties, suspender belt and stockings, and my new Louboutins.

Next he has the neckties that he’d bought. The bed is a sleek and modern four poster. I learn soon enough why a man would buy such a bed. He takes the satin neckties he bought earlier and begins to tie me to the bedposts. First one wrist, then the other, then on to my ankles. I am spread out, completely helpless and at his mercy. It’s in this moment that he becomes my Master, my caretaker, my owner.

A fifth tie is used to blindfold me. Now I can see nothing except for a little light from the edges around the blindfold. I hear him undress…the rattle of his belt buckle being undone…all the clothes falling on the chair. He is on the bed, over me. He kisses me, rubs my pussy, my panties are so wet. His lips move to my breasts, one by one he takes each nipple in his mouth, rolling it with his tongue, all the time still touching me down there. Then he moves lower, my panties are pulled to the side, his tongue begins to tease me…ever so slowly..it circles around my labia, grazes over my clit…he licks up my juices with pleasure, savoring the taste of me.

This goes on for what seems like forever, I come close to orgasm so many times, but each time he backs off, my desire becomes an absolute need to cum. I strain at my bonds, I try to rub myself against his face. Finally his warm hard cock enters me. Our bodies move with one another, in my bondage I strain to raise my body to his. With his hips he pushes my torso down against the mattress. He thrusts deep. I cum… I cum hard. My body shudders in waves with the intensity of the orgasm. Just after I orgasm he pulls out, and cums all over my belly and breasts…his hot cum dripping off my body down onto the mattress. I am his. He whispers in my ear that he loves me, that he wants bahçelievler escort me with him forever. That’s how I end up here, in Master’s beautiful old home.

During the day the housekeeper comes, but in the evening we have the house all to ourselves. Now that he owns me, Master has provided me with custom made leather cuffs for my wrists and ankles, and a collar to match them. They are crafted from a lovely deep red leather, with beautiful brass buckles and rings. Every evening when master comes home from the office, I meet him in the hall near the door. The restraints are removed from their box which is always in the locked door of the hall table. He puts them on me, one by one, securing the buckles with little brass padlocks in the shape of hearts, for which only he has the key. These serve only as restraints when we are at play in the bedroom…Outside of there, they are symbols to remind me of my submission.

I am his cherished little pet, his love, passion, and pleasure. I know to some women I might seem silly, to give up my freedom, my independent life. But in giving up something I’ve gained so much more. I am loved, I am needed, I am cherished.

Master sits down at the table, I serve him, we chat over dinner about our day, then after I’ve cleared the table, we go up to the bedroom. It’s a very large oak panelled room with high ceilings. There’s a fireplace with a fire the housekeeper lit earlier still going. I’ve moved our playtoy out into the room from where we keep it hidden in the closet. It’s a beautiful handmade spanking horse upholstered in black leather with brass tacks around the edges. This toy has become my favorite furniture in the house.

My dress is removed. (Master insists that I only wear dresses, stockings, and heels now that I am his slave). After the dress I remove my shoes and the rest of my clothing, standing naked before him. He helps me onto the horse and I am fastened into it with leather straps, also my wrist and ankle cuffs are secured by little rings anchored into the wood. I’m completely immobilized, with my bottom exposed and my legs spread.

He gags me with a black satin scarf. He begins to spank me with his hand, one cheek, then the other…quick yet hard slaps, in a rhythm, one after another. Little squeaks of pain/pleasure emit from my gagged lips. I love being punished.

Master slowly rubs my pussy until I’m wet for him, he gets down and begins to lick me as we both love so much. He savors me, teases me, makes me beg and then he enters me, and feeling him pounding into me, the thrill of submission as he pulls back at my gag, I cum, and soon after, with a shudder of his body and a sigh, he cums. I feel his hot seed pumping into me. I sigh into my my gag. It’s impossible to describe all that I’m feeling. I am happy, I am content. I am his…

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