Note: Thanks to SissyKatty for editing assistance with this story.
The thought of being owned and dominated by a strong-willed woman has been flickering inside me ever since I became sexually conscious. It was only in the last couple of years that I started to make some attempts to find such a woman. I wanted to find the kind of woman who could bring my fantasies to reality. The initial attempts were futile and left me with a bad taste in my mouth.
“Pay X amount and come to Y place”– these were the kind of responses I received when I contacted a couple of dominatrices through a classified ad.
Yes, I wanted to be dominated and I was fine to pay for it. But for me it was essential that I first meet the person in a more civil ambience, converse as equals and get to know her a bit. It is important for me to feel a connection and mind synchronicity with that person. And I had other requirements as well. I wanted to find a domme who could be strict, cruel, and almost sadistic but, also capable of showing some tenderness towards me at times. She would tease and abuse me in the most primal ways yet make me feel loved and cared for. I concede these are disparate, almost contradicting qualities to find in one individual. My demanding standards seemed difficult to meet and I began to despair. Did such a woman even exist?
One day I was casually browsing online when I chanced upon her profile. Her name was Lyn. Her brevity coupled with an economy of words clearly expressed the kind of individual she was and what she was looking for in a willing supplicant. Reading through her profile, her personality struck me as perfect. I felt confident we could be compatible individuals. I sent her a short inquiry and a polite conversation ensued, after which she told she wanted to meet me in person over coffee before deciding on a session. For the first time, I thought I was on the right track in my quest to find the dominant woman of my dreams.
We agreed to meet at a restaurant the coming weekend. I took care to arrive well before time and booked a corner table, a bit secluded from the rest of the patrons so that we could have some privacy. When she arrived, she recognized me instantly. She walked up to our table with a smile. Dressed casually in jeans, a grey T shirt and sneakers, she looked chic and appealing. She was beautiful! At the onset, I was feeling a bit shy and awkward, but with her friendly personality she made me feel so much more at ease. She told me in detail about her experiences as a professional domme, her thoughts and views on various forms of impact plays, and about the kind of services she offered to her clients. She was eager to know in detail about my kinks and fantasies. The sincerity with which she listened made me feel that she was the woman in whom I could confide my darkest fantasies without any fear of being judged. Our conversation veered towards other mundane topics as well and it was nice to know that we shared so much common ground. Our interests in books, literature and travelling collided with so many similar likes. Our little date went on rather well and she agreed to meet for a session in the coming months.
My first impression after meeting her was that she had all the qualities I hoped to find in my ideal domme. Everything I thought I wanted and more! By the look of her, she was fairly young. Yet she showed a sense of maturity and perceptiveness of human character that was well beyond her age.
Much as I was eager to have the session, my erratic work schedule and personal contingencies kept me out of town for a couple of months. However, in these couple of months, thoughts of her came flooding into my fantasies. A common scenario in past fantasies was that of a fully clothed woman ordering me to strip naked in front of her, and then teasing and abusing me in my state of nudity. However, the picture of the woman used to be hazy, lacking form. After meeting Lyn for the first time, this nebulous woman of my fantasies assumed both a form and a distinct face. Naturally, this fantasy became more intense, and my arousal became stronger.
Once I was back in town, I contacted Lyn and let her know about my availability in the coming weeks. She responded, naming a date and time for a session, this coming weekend. She had told me in our initial meeting that she used to ply her trade in a hotel. The fact that she was inviting me to her home for a session made me feel that I was perhaps somewhat “special” among her list of clients. At least, I tried to make myself believe that this was the case and it made me feel good. The date of our session was finally fixed. My long-harbored fantasy was inching towards reality as the days passed by. I was prepared to face the agony and ecstasy of it all, but a tiny voice whispered inside.
‘Can I handle what’s coming?’