Obi1kenietzsche

Obi1kenietzsche

M55

The Test.

October 31 2021

Her profile had read “Alpha Sub with permission to play in Sir’s absence seeks temporary Dom”. I had put my coffee down and read her profile carefully (6 times to be precise), before crafting my message. Our subsequent conversation over drinks was extremely comfortable and refreshingly open. She had it all; looks, body, intelligence, spirit, and a calm manner that both intrigued and excited me. She had also set out the conditions emphatically (as I guessed was her way):...

She belonged to Sir, utterly and completely.

No, I could not and would not be able to speak with Sir unless he requested me to do so.

Sir was increasingly away on business but, as befitting his position, had recognised and acknowledged her own individual needs.

She would select initially, but Sir would vet all prospects first.

Her privacy and her time was to be respected and I would at any time concede that time in preference to her Sir.

Either she or Sir could terminate the agreement at any time whereupon I would exit gracefully and amicably.

And importantly, all activities could at any time be observed via a video security camera that Sir could access at any time should he chose to.

With all that now said, I had considered the ramifications of engaging with her for several days afterwards before contacting her again.

That was 6 months ago, I reflected, as we lay in bed listening to the rain fall softly outside, her head resting gently on my chest. We had eased into it at first, getting to know each other’s mind and bodies, our play gradually increasing in intensity as her trust in me grew, and my understanding of her likes and desires developed in line with that trust. And all the while, that little black box with its unblinking red light was there... in the bedroom, and then in the lounge room, and then in the dining room... always watching.

Knowing her Sir could potentially watch at any time, and without either of us knowing it, was an extreme turn-on for us both, and I guess it may have even encouraged me to take her in ways that I may not have previously imagined. Sometimes I positioned her to give that little black box the best possible view of our activities, hoping that her Sir might be watching, and enjoying her pleasure as much as I was.

I would get her to kneel in front of it whilst I blew my load in her willing mouth, I would fuck her from behind whilst she stared into it, so it would capture every expression on her beautiful face. I would move it onto the dresser so that it could capture the sight of her, cuffed and bound to the bed, whilst I did the most deliciously inappropriate things to both her mind and body. There was a little ledge in her kitchen where the box would sit, and I would, in the middle of cooking her breakfast, pull down her panties and take her on the kitchen bench, just 4 feet away. And she would, every now and again, out of the blue, and with that cheeky little smile of hers, give me approving feedback from Sir.

And then, today, something had changed.

I had been mind-fucking her for 2 days, teasing her, throwing all sorts of devious notions into her head and enjoying her reactions.

She had thus known that I would be in a particular state of mind when I arrived as planned, but when I presented her with the 9’ industrial tripod and winch in the lounge room her eyes had widened. I had bought it for work just the previous day and it was still in boxes as I laid it out on the tiled floor. As we unpacked it together her cheeky smile had grown and her lovely eyes had twinkled, but I had noticed her hands trembling ever so slightly.

As we assembled the tripod together, I had carefully yet somewhat nonchalantly explained to her what such devices “could” be used for, should the opportunity arrive, and every now and again I would pause and look directly into her eyes, saying nothing. When I did so she would blush and drop her eyes, but I could see her mind was racing and her body responding as we finished our little construction project. The tripod fitted comfortably under the vaulted ceiling, just as I had thought it would.

She had just stared at it, and of course, just to drive home the ensuing mind-fuck, I then suggested we go out for lunch, over which I was careful not to mention anything about the tripod whatsoever. I didn’t need to.

When we had arrived back at the house, and walked into the lounge room, she had gently caressed one of the assembled tripod legs, and the look she gave me then told me everything I needed to know.

We had said absolutely nothing, I had just crossed my arms then opened them, my signal for her to undress. I could smell her sweet scent as I fitted her into the padded harness whilst she stood motionless under the tripod. She had uttered a little involuntary moan as I gently cuffed her wrists behind her back, and again at the sound of the clasp connecting her harness to the winch cable running from the overhead pulley to the winch.

Standing behind her, I had kissed her neck whilst stroking her naked body. I murmured things in her ear and she had shivered before nodding her head. My experience in confined space rescue had made adjusting her harness easy, and so as her feet slowly left the floor her body had pivoted gently forward so that her back was horizontal. I had continued winching until her sweet ass was level with where my cock would be and there I stopped. It was then just a matter of running rope from the base of the rear tripod legs to the cuffs around her ankles and tying them off so her legs were spread.

I had then moved in front of her and, as she lifted up her head, I removed my pants so she could see my full erection. Fucking her mouth as I supported her head with both my hands was exquisite, and as she took in the full length of me I had to remind myself not to cum right there and then. After withdrawing from her mouth, I had picked up my riding crop and had first run it up and down her body, and then up the insides of her thighs. The sharp crack of my crop on her suspended ass had made her gasp, and I had watched her body tense in anticipation of the next. She had then gasped again, and again, as I delivered them for her.

I had felt her heat and her wetness with my fingers, and I had found her little button and had toyed with it mercilessly, making her squirm with pleasure. She had thrown her head back when I had entered her and I had gripped her hair as I had fucked her from behind, thrusting into her as she hung there in front of me, completely at my mercy, her body prevented from swinging forward by her ankle straps, her breasts held fast by the safety harness.

I had then alternated back and forth, fucking her from behind and then her mouth, and then back again, over and over, murmuring in her ear as I did so, and her moans had become almost continuous. I had used my cock, my mouth, my crop and my fingers again and again, over and over, and her legs had trembled constantly as she had orgasmed, but I could sense that she was still holding back.

I had moved in close, brushed aside her disheveled hair, stroked her beautiful face and I had whispered just one word in the form of a question. “Yes?” I had asked, and she had lifted her head and nodded again.

It was then and only then that I took her anally. With calm, measured strokes I fucked her until I came. And as I did, she came again, groaning, and then slipped away to a place that I could not follow her, and I revelled in the trust and power that this wonderful creature had bestowed upon me.

Afterwards, after I had released her from the tripod and harness and had carried her to the bedroom, we had just lain there, with her cradled her in my arms, and I had stroked her gently. I had watched her closely and had held her tight as her body started to tremble again, and I had heard her sobs of release and felt her tears flow down onto my chest. I had fed her water to rehydrate her, and the rain had started outside as we lay there in wonderful, comfortable silence, listening to it drum on the roof above us.

After a long while, she had gotten up, had gone over to her dresser and had picked up the little black box with the unblinking red eye. She had unplugged it and had brought it back to me.

“This is yours,” she had said, handing it to me.

I must admit that I had been startled at that. “No,” I had said, “That belongs to another, we both know that”.

She had then looked me straight in the eyes, her face open and trusting, “That person never existed, I just had to be sure,” she had whispered, “Please forgive me”.

I gathered her up in my arms and had held her again,, her body, warm and snuggled in against mine, as the realisation sank in. “And?” I had asked gently, brushing her hair away from her face again.

And then, as the summer rain continued to fall outside, she looked up at me again. “I choose you, and I want you to be my Sir,” she had whispered.

My mind had just exploded, but I still managed to say as calmly as I could “Hmmm... I’ll think about it”.

Whereupon she laughed and then bit me playfully on my left nipple.

Obi1.

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