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I step off the plane and my cell phone rings.

It's her at the other end, Sara. Lost love, the one I had let go years ago and had never quite forgotten. Obviously she hadn't forgotten me.

I'd received a letter from her in the mail a week earlier, an actual letter sent through the U.S. Postal Service, which I had previously thought to be defunct since I paid all my bills and sent all my letters online. But this letter was special, meticulously written on the highest quality stationery in flawless calligraphy. When I broke the seal on the envelope, the most enchanting perfume wafted to my nose.

This wasn't a friendly, "just to say hi" letter; this letter had a purpose.

"...when you go down to get your baggage, there will be a small, black Nike duffel bag on the belt. Pick it up..."

"What is this," I ask her, "what are you talking about?"

"Just shut up and do it."

The line goes dead.

Her words surprise and confuse me. This from the sweet young girl I'd loved? "Just shut up and do it" was not the phrase to describe our previous relationship, the relationship that had been tender, sweet, and loving, the one relationship from my past that I looked back on fondly.

Her letter had been cryptic at best, indicating only that she still thought about me, and that she wanted me to visit her. It listed a time and a place, and was signed, "Love, Your Sara." Penned in that elegant handwriting, her last words made me tremble, and the love I had let fade for so long was finally starting to return.

I make my way down to the baggage claim and wait patiently for my bag to show up on the belt. My body is exhausted from the jet lag, and all I can think about is getting into a motel room, taking a hot shower, and then having quiet dinner with Sara. I've missed her more than I've been willing to admit until now.

A grab my bag, and sure enough, a moment later, a black Nike duffel bag rides down the belt. I take it and look around me. It has no airline tag on it; it's been dropped here by someone in the airport, but I don't see Sara. As if to answer my question, my cell phone rings again.

"Hello?"

"Did you get the bag?"

"Yeah, I got it. Sara, I'm confused, what are we-"

"Don't talk, just listen. I want you to open the bag. On top should be a black sash. Don't touch anything else."

I open the bag and pull out the sash. This is an odd game.

"Okay," I say hesitantly, "I got it."

"Good, now drop your bags."

I obey.

"Now, I want you to take the sash and wrap it around your eyes so that you can't-"

"You've got to be fucking with me, right here in the airport in front of all-"

"Don't interrupt me!" her voice isn't angry, but firm and forceful, not a voice I recognize, a voice that frightens me a little, but turns me on at the same time. "Tie the sash around your head, cover your eyes so that you can't see anything."

"Okay, okay, but-"

"I didn't tell you to talk."

My mouth shuts almost immediately and I wonder to myself why I'm playing this game. Regardless, I follow her instructions and clip my cell phone to my belt while I tie the sash around my head, completely blocking out the light. Through the darkness, I hear a few whispers and laughter, which I try to ignore.

I grab the phone and hold it to my ear.

"Okay, I look like an ass now, but...Sara?"

The line is dead again.

"Sara? Shit!"

I'm just about to give up and take the sash off when the phone is gently taken from my hand, and the same fragrant perfume from Sara's letter finds its way to my nose. I feel warm breath on my ear.

"It's okay," she tells me, placing her hand gently on my shoulder, "how do you feel?"

"I feel...silly...standing here in the airport with a damn blindfold. What exactly are we doing?"

"Don't ask questions," she says, in a low, throaty tone, "you'll do what I say, when I say, and you won't ask questions. Tell me you understand."

"I understand."

"Good. Now, I'm going to put your hand on my shoulder, and then I'm going to lead you out to the car. Don't worry, I'm going to take care of you. Understand?"

"Yes."

She puts my hand on her shoulder, I feel her begin to walk, and I follow her. My heart is pounding now, a mixture of fear and excitement taking me over completely.

It takes us less than a minute to get outside the airport, and another minute later, I'm sitting in a car. I hear her get in the driver's side, start up the car, and then we're moving.

It's a strange sensation being completely and utterly disoriented. All sense of time, all sense of direction is gone, leaving me completely vulnerable, with only sounds and smells to rely on. All I have now is the sound of the car running and the exotic, flowery scent of her perfume.

"Are you afraid?" she asks quietly from beside me.

"No."

"You're lying," she says coyly, "I can tell. If you do what you're told, you'll be okay."

"Where are we going?"

"That's none of your concern."

"No, I think it is my concern, and I think-"

"I think if you don't stop talking out of place, I'll put the gag on you."

As if it's not humiliating enough being driving around in a blindfold, the last thing in the world I need is a gag, so I keep my mouth closed. After what seems like forever, we pull to a stop, and Sara gets out of the car. I hear my door open.

"Get out," she says.

I step out of the car. From what I can tell, we're in some kind of garage, a parking garage. Sound seems to echo through the air, and in the far distance, I can hear cars pulling in and out.

I hear Sara rooting through the bag. She grabs my hands and ties them together tightly with some kind of rope. A firm push makes me stumble back against the car.

"This is how it'll work," she says, "from now on, you will call me Mistress, and nothing else. You will do what I say, and only what I say. You will not speak unless I address you, and you will not touch me unless I ask. When you obey, you'll be rewarded, but disobey me, and I promise, you'll be punished. Understand?"

"Oh my God-"

A hand clamps down into my hair, pulling my head back roughly, and I can feel her warm breath next to my cheek, making my skin tingle.

"When I ask if you understand, all I want to hear is yes or no. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Good." A can feel her pull closer, and there's a sudden surge of electricity as she runs her tongue from the base of my neck straight up to my ear. "You're mine," she whispers, her lips brushing against my ear, "never forget that. I own you. Promise me you won't forget. Call me Mistress."

"Yes, Mistress, I promise," I manage to stutter.

She presses her entire body close to mine, and the thrill is amazing. I haven't even seen her yet, but I remember her vividly, her petite, perfectly proportioned frame, her long hair, green eyes. I outweigh her by at least thirty pounds, but she has complete control over me, and I can't do a thing about it. It's an extraordinary feeling.

I feel her lips on my neck again, placing soft, gentle kisses, and at the same time, her hand slipping down my body. My cock has been throbbing painfully against my jeans since she tied my hands together, and now her hand brushes against it, teasing me, letting her fingers slip delicately down my shaft, then taking them away.

"Do you want more?"

"Yes."

A stinging slap on my cheek. "Yes what?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Get in the car. Now."

My heart rate is skyrocketing, but I manage to struggle my way back into the car. My state of mind flashes erratically, my confusion runs deep. I know we're on the road, but I don't know where we're going, and I don't care. I just want her, I want her, I want her to command me, I want her to punish me and pleasure me at the same time. I feel like I'm going to pass out.

It's all darkness now, and all darkness is the same.

I don't know if I passed out, or if time is simply passing quicker, but we've arrived somewhere, and I hear the car engine turn off. Sara once again comes to my door and forces me out of the car, dragging me roughly by the arm. Her strength had always amazed me.

We're in a house now, at least I think it's a house, I can feel soft carpet under my feet. I don't hear anything, but I can smell the fragrant aroma of potpourri or scented candles-I can't tell the difference. I feel Sara's hand fall away from my arm.

"Wait here," she commands me.

"Yes, Mistress."

And then silence. My knees are growing weak from anticipation. She has me so worked up now that I don't know how much longer I can stand. She's done this on purpose. It's torture.

I jump slightly as I feel a hand touch my calf, exploring my thigh, running up my body as if it is feeling me out, sizing me up. Again, the smell of perfume, but different this time, and the scent of something else more potent, more sexual...

"I like him, Mistress," a female voice, not Sara's, speaks quietly from near my waist.

"Good," Sara says, "I brought him home for us. He hasn't learned yet, so we have to teach him, he has to be trained like a dog."

"Yes, Mistress," the other voice says.

"Take his blindfold off, Marie."

"Yes, Mistress."

When the blindfold comes off, it's still dark, but I can feel my eyes adjusting. My head spins slightly, but I manage to keep my balance. As the blur clears away, I see Sara standing off in the corner, her green eyes locked onto mine.

The entire room is draped in black, the windows covered, very dark. The only light comes from candles placed throughout the room. The glow catches Sara's face, and she's as beautiful as I remember her, if not more. Her long hair cascades down over her shoulders, and her look, her entire demeanor, tells me that she is in charge.

Kneeling next to me is Marie, a beautiful, petite redhead who looks up at me with adoration, her hands lingering on my thigh as if she is trying to keep me from floating away. She's dressed enticingly in a black leather corset, and around her neck, a leather collar of some sort.

She glances back at her Mistress with a hopeful look on her face. "May I have him, Mistress?"

"If you're good. But first..." Sara approaches me, silently, intently, like a leopard stalking her prey. She takes hold of my bound wrists and raises them up over her head. Above me, dangling from the ceiling, is an iron hook, which she guides through the ropes around my wrists.

"Marie, go raise him."

"Yes, Mistress." Marie's blue eyes lock onto me, and I notice an evil glint in them. She stands up, walks over to a switch on the wall. As she turns it on, the slightest electrical whir emanates from the ceiling, and I feel the hook raising me up just high enough that I have to stand on my toes. Now I know there's no way for me to get away.

Mistress Sara circles me once again, looking me up and down, running her hands over my body, feeling my thighs, my butt, my chest. Finally, she places her hand over the bulge in my pants, gently squeezing my through my jeans. She looks up at me and smiles.

"Are you hard?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Do you want me to take your pants off?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Do you want to be free?"

A pause. "No, Mistress."

"Good. Very good." She runs her hand up my shirt, to my face, brushes her fingers across my lips. "Marie, come here, now."

Marie approaches her, wraps her arms around Mistress Sara's waist, kisses her gently on the neck. Sara closes her eyes, enjoying her young slave's touch. She turns to Marie, kisses her, their mouths opening slightly, tongues playing together. After a moment, Sara slips her finger to Marie's mouth, pressing lightly on her lips.

"I want you to take his pants off, Marie."

"Yes, Mistress."

Marie approaches me, drops to her knees. She slips my shoes off, then my socks. Her hands slide gently up the front of my legs, pausing momentarily at the throbbing bulge in my pants, then make their way to my waist. She undoes my belt, pulls the zipper down.

"Take his cock out first."

Marie gently reaches into my pants and slips my hard cock out, and finally I have freedom, blessed freedom from my constricting jeans. Marie, on her knees, gazes lustfully at my cock, and in my mind I'm begging that she touch me, that she wrap her hands around me and stroke me until I explode.

As if reading my mind, she turns to Mistress Sara.

"Please, Mistress..."

"Tell me what you want, Marie."

"Please, I want to touch him, I want to suck his cock, I want to...make him come."

Sara gazes down at her without any sign of compassion. "No, Marie, you may not."

"Please, Mistress, I'm begging you."

"No," Mistress Sara says firmly, glaring at me, "he doesn't deserve to be pleasured yet, Marie. He's a dog, not a man, do you understand me?"

Sadly, "Yes, Mistress."

"Come to me, Marie. Stay on your knees."

Marie crawls over to her Mistress-to our Mistress-and lays herself down dejectedly at her feet.

"Get up."

Marie stands, faces Mistress Sara, hangs her head sadly. Mistress Sara tenderly runs her hands through Marie's fiery hair and gently strokes her face.

"I'm sorry, Marie, but you know the rules. You'll have him, I promise, we'll both have him, but not yet. Now don't be sad. I want you to please me."

Marie immediately raises her chin for her Mistress, but my head drops slightly. My body is crying out for release, I can feel it deep down in the pit of my stomach. The helplessness is beginning to well up inside me.

"Please, Mistress," I whisper weakly. She shifts her eyes to me, and casually saunters over to me. Without looking down, she wraps her hand around my cock, squeezing and stroking ever so gently, just enough to drive me crazy.

"I love hearing you beg," she whispers, "and I'll keep making you beg. When I'm done with you, I'll have you on your knees before me, you'll be my slut." She drops to her knees and slips my pants off, tossing them away into the dark. Placing her hands on my buttocks, she lightly slips her tongue around the head of my dick. The sensation fires through my body, the sensation I've been waiting for all night, but as quickly as it begins, it ends.

"That's all you'll get tonight," she says. "Be good, and you'll get more. Will you be good?"

"Yes, Mistress," I stammer, "I swear I'll be good. I'll do whatever you want."

"I like that," she says agreeably, "you're beginning to learn. Marie, reward him."

On command, Marie scurries to me quickly, dropping to her knees, almost ravenously taking my entire cock into her mouth, slipping her wet lips all the way down to the base. Mistress Sara rests her hands gently on the back of Marie's head as the young girl licks my shaft frantically, slivers of pleasure shooting up through the base of my spine.

"Okay, Marie, that's enough," Mistress Sara says quietly, and almost immediately, Marie stops. The pleasure has brought me practically to the verge of tears, and now that it has so suddenly stopped, a throbbing numbness takes over me.

"Oh God," I cry out hoarsely. A second later, I feel my Mistress's hand lash out across my cheek, and the stinging pain makes me feel good.

"You will NOT talk, slave, how dare you," Mistress hisses at me, her green eyes flaring with rage, "you will be tortured, and you will like it. As a punishment, you'll hang there and watch Marie take what she wants from me, you'll watch her take what you can't have."

"Yes, Mistress," I whisper, my voice weak, "I'm sorry."

"It's too late," Mistress tells me. She backs away from me and sits down on a large, black sofa. She gestures to Marie, who crawls over to her. "Tell me what you want, my sweet little slut."

"I want to taste you, Mistress," Marie moans sensually, "I want to taste your sex all over my mouth."

Mistress spreads her legs, pulls her black dress up past her hips. "Take me then," she commands Marie, "take all you want." Her eyes lock with mine as Marie slips her black panties down to the floor. Marie buries her face into the moist, waiting pussy spread before her, and my Mistress throws her head back, letting a cry of pleasure slip from her lips. Marie expertly uses her probing tongue to pleasure every inch of Mistress's womanhood.

Watching them, my cock throbs uncontrollably, and I can only moan, my mouth watering at the sight of my Mistress's moist lips. Marie reaches up with her fingers and gently spreads her lips, exposing Mistress's pink clit. Another loud cry of utter delectation rings out into the darkness as Marie works her tongue over the clit, then sucks it firmly between her lips.

Before long, my Mistress comes in large, violent shudders, grasping Marie's shoulders with her hands. Marie makes a movement to wipe her Mistress's juices from her lips...

"Stop," Mistress commands. She leans forward, slowly letting her tongue run along Marie's lips, lapping away her own fluids from Marie's mouth. When she is finished, she drops back into the sofa.

"Thank you, Mistress."

"Do you want more, Marie?"

"Always, Mistress."

Mistress smiles at her, then rises from the sofa and approaches me. My heart pounds as she looks me dead in the eye, her hand moving to her crotch. She sucks in a quick breath as she rubs herself firmly.

"This is for my little slut Marie, not for you," she says as she holds up her wet hand to my face. A second later, her hand drops down and rubs her juices all over the length of my cock, her thumb and forefinger lightly teasing the head. My body twitches uncontrollably at her touch.

Marie quickly crawls over to me, her tongue reaching out to lick our Mistress's juices from my waiting cock. As she sucks me into her hot mouth once again, I can feel my lust welling up, waiting to burst, and all I can think about is shooting my hot semen all over Marie's pretty face.

As Marie licks the entire length of my shaft, Mistress runs her hand over my chest, pressing herself close. "You're going to make a wonderful slave, my love," she whispers to me, making my heart thunder in my chest.

She places her hand on Marie's head, who is now ravenously sucking at the sensitive skin at the very tip of my cock, sending chills through my body. Just as waves of lustful energy begin to surge through me, Mistress takes Marie gently by her hair.

"Enough."

"Please, Mistress, let me finish him. I want to taste him, too."

"No, not yet. It's time for bed, Love."

"Yes, Mistress. But can we bring him with us?" Marie asks, the innocent tone in her voice making my heart melt.

Mistress regards me grimly for a moment. I look into her green eyes, knowing that they've entranced me, knowing that there's no escape from her now, even if she unties me, knowing that she's taken over me completely.

For the moment, I can't even remember her name, only Mistress, my Mistress, our Mistress, mine and Marie's. I belong to her completely.

"No," Mistress answers, "we have to leave him here for now. He still has so much to learn."

Without another word, they leave me there in the dark.

To Be Continued...

Author's Note: I didn't even know I was into BDSM until this story just started pouring from my mind. Feedback is entirely welcome, I could really use some pointers in this area. Thanks, D

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