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When they ask, I tell people that I met my wife on the internet. I’m sure they assume it was on a dating site. But the full story is much more interesting, how she came to own me and how I came to worship her as my wife.
I’d been single off-and-on for a long time. 28 years old. I had a decent job in engineering. I’ve had a few good girl friends, but nothing really clicked. A couple of the relationships had turned physical, but mostly just a few dates, dinner conversations, and then there’d be something that didn’t work between us and we’d fade away from each other.
I’d been working out the past few months, and my libido was running hot though my love life was not. With no one to share it with I found myself becoming a loyal fan of some on-line porn and erotica sites. Though I’m straight and pretty vanilla, I found myself drawn to certain stories and situations. One of the sites I kept going back to had a strong woman theme. It wasn’t exactly femdom. But the site’s photos and video clips were full of hot women in control of their men. They’d make them serve them, edge them, and leash them.
Now it was April, a Saturday afternoon and I was all alone at the apartment. I was cruising the internet with my cock in my hand when I came across several photos of a red-haired woman. You couldn’t see her whole body or face in any of the photos, but I could tell she was older, maybe 30. A great real body, tall and lean, but not like a model or a 19-year old kid. Something about her just said “real”. Real hips, real breasts, a wrinkle or two around the corners of her mouth. She had strong hands and beautiful shoulders that captivated me.
In each photos, she was with a different man. In one she had him kneeling, a leash around his neck, her high-heeled shoes on his shoulders as he tongued her pussy and her asshole. I couldn’t see her face in that photo, just a few wisps of her red hair over the top of her corset.
In the second photo, I could see those hands, strong and sensual. One had two fingers inserted up to the knuckles in a man’s ass. The other hand encircled his testicles and the shaft of his cock. She was pulling hard, but it didn’t look painful, just on the edge of that. One of her breasts was visible, with just the top of a nipple showing above her camisole top, and again a few whisps of that lovely red hair.
In the third photo, she was wearing a strapon, and her man was face down on the carpet in a beautiful room. She had her strapon buried up to the hilt in his ass. His face was turned side-ways and I couldn’t quite tell if he was moaning or screaming. He was muscular and his hands were tied behind his back. He was wearing a garter belt and fishnet thigh-highs. She was similarly dressed, but with black fuck-me boots, a black corset, and a thong visible beneath the straps holding her cock in place.
The photos came from a tumblr site. I clicked on it, and went to her web site. It wasn’t a big site. To my dismay it only had about twelve photos in all. They were similar to the others I’d just seen, and all wonderful. But none of them showed her full face or body.
At the top of the site she had a small bio. She said “I need a real man to play with. I want a strong loving man that can hold me while I curl up safe in his arms. But I want a man who can also be my sissy bitch. If this site is still up, I haven’t found him yet. Email me”
On a lark I said, “what the hell”….I typed out a quick email to her address. I said “I’m a 28-year old professional. I’m single and fit. Your site captivated me and I’d love to meet you, or at least chat with you some time. Here are a few photos of me. I look forward to hearing from you…Robert” Then I finished masturbating, and hopped in the shower.
I thought nothing more of if for about a week. But late Thursday night I was just about to go to bed when I noticed an email in my spam-blocker with her site name in the address. I moved it to my inbox and opened it.
Sure enough it was from the redhead. She had included a picture in the email that I recognized from the site. It was of her chin, neck and chest. She was wearing a green top that showed her collar bone and cleavage, and her hands were playing with her red hair…The text of the email grabbed my attention.
“Robert. Thank you for your email. I’d like to learn more about you. You see I am very particular in my tastes, and there’s something about you that interests me. I’m looking for just the right man. This is not a casual thing. I’m looking for someone for real. I need a man to own. A man who will give himself over to me fully. A man who I can serve when I like and who will take care of me. But I also need a man who I can control at my whim. When I desire it, I will dress him up and make him my play thing. I like to play rough and I need a man who will do what I ask of him. Most men are boys, and they only go so far. If you’re a real man and you’d like to be truly owned by me, then answer the questions below and write me back. If you think this is yalova escort a game, don’t write”
I answered the questions. They were mostly about me, my job, where I lived, etc.. A few were a little more intimate, but nothing racy. Just questions about my past relationships, my current status, my basic sexuality. Still thinking it more of a game, I typed out the answers to the questions. I attached a few more pictures, of my place, my dog, my family…Then I hit send.
She wrote back the next evening. She said “Thank you for answering my questions, and thank you for the additional pictures. You definitely interest me. I’ve included a few more photos of me. I hope you like them. Please send me some more of you, and don’t be so shy this time”
The first photo she sent included one of her pink wet pussy opened up, her fingers holding it open. It looked smooth and delightful. I could see tops of thigh-highs but nothing else…The other photo showed her legs and ass, and just a little bit of her mound. She was wearing a mini skirt and white stockings. Not exactly a school girl outfit, but hot.
I wasn’t sure, but I assumed that she meant for me to take some pictures of my body naked and send those to her. I said “what the hell”. I dropped my shorts and tried a few different selfie shots. I felt stupid, but it was exciting all the same. My cock was still hard from the effects of her photos, so I tried a few different angles and finally picked two that I liked. One highlighted the muscles in my legs and ass. The other was more of a cock shot. If I was wrong, then she’d probably gross out and stop writing. But I was pretty sure this was what she wanted me to do.
I was just about to close down my computer when she wrote back. All she said was “Hmmm…I just may have to put you through a few paces after all…write me tomorrow”…I guess she liked my selfies.
When I emailed her the next day, she asked me for my phone number. I gave it to her, and she rang me directly. What followed was the best conversation of my life. We talked for about 2 hours. Nothing about sex. Just life, what we were doing, where we were going. We said good night, but I was in no mood to go to sleep. I wanted to meet this woman; I wanted her here with me now.
In the morning she emailed me some instructions. She said she wanted me to send her a couple of pictures and videos during the day. Nothing over-the-top. The first was a video of me drinking a cup of coffee in the morning, but she wanted me naked and with a hard-on. The second was a picture of me in my office, with my pants down around my knees.
Of course I complied. It seemed like a game, but it was fun. It was playful. And I was getting off on it. When I sent her my emails, she replied with an email containing a clip of her hands sliding up and down her hips, and then diving into her pussy, no clothes in sight…The sound quality was excellent and I could hear the wetness as she played with herself.
Over the next few months things escalated. We talked frequently. Not every night, but several times a week. In between she’d email me and give me tasks to do. She said she wanted to see whether I would follow-through and make her happy. She said that she needed to know I would take care of her, not let her down like they boys before me…It was clear that there was much more ahead, and I was excited by the challenge.
With some of her tasks she seemed to be probing my sexual mind. She’d direct me to watch certain things on the web, and tell her about them. Men in lingerie. Men in chastity. Women in control. Men pushed into humiliating situations. I did my best to tell her the truth, though to be honest it was hard sometimes. How do you tell someone you really like that your cock hardened when she sucked him off and then pushed his cum into his mouth with a sloppy French kiss? I just did it…hoping my answers would please her.
We had been “dating” like this for three months, and it never really bothered to me that I still didn’t know her real name, or what she looked like, or even where she lived. She said she was from the Cleveland area, but that was about all I could get out of her. I knew she was between 30 and 35 and single, though still promiscuous. Sometimes she would described to me the other boys she was playing with, particularly when and how they displeased her. When they did she would cast them aside, like broken toys. I was pleased, because I’d already gotten farther in my “examination” than many of them.
At this point there were so many things I’d done for her. For example, she made me purchase panties and lingerie and model them for her. At first she had me buy them on-line. But later she made me go into the store myself. Finally she made me tell the salesgirls exactly why I was there. She even had me pass the phone to her so She could ask the salesgirl what she thought I’d look good in when I was down on my knees, feasting on her pussy…At first it was humiliating. edirne escort But really the salesgirls were very helpful, and the whole experience was very arousing.
She was also apparently a huge fan of ass play. She had described to me how she enjoyed taking a man’s ass with the strapon. She’d put a vibrating bead in her pussy beneath the harness and pound away until She came herself. She liked the power of it, and she liked the way the man made grunts and groans while she pounded him…She instructed me to buy various toys to work my ass, first dildos and then plugs, bigger and bigger. She trained me to prepare myself for a play session, and then she’d have me Skype with her while I fucked my own ass on camera. Sometimes she’d have me dress up like a girl. Sometimes she wanted to see me get fucked dressed – or undressed – like a man. She always made me tell me what I was thinking, what I was feeling.
Probably the most embarrassing things she had me do were those out in public. A few times she had me dress partly or fully in women’s clothes (by now I had several full outfits, a wig, high-heeled boots, and jewelry) and get out into the neighborhood. It started small, walking around in the early morning, stealing newspapers off people’s porches. Then driving to a neighboring City, and pumping gas along the way. Finally, she actually had me go to a local gay bar. She required me to drink three drinks, and required me to talk to at least two gay men and one transvestite. She had me pass the phone to the other transvestite, and she asked for advice about how I could improve my outfit.
Chastity started to work itself into the mix as well. Apparently this was the ultimate control thrill for her. To deprive a man of his release, and then to play with him until he started to melt under the pressure. She asked me if I’d lock up my cock for her, but of course I knew it wasn’t a question – it was a command. By this time I was in love with this strange woman, and my answer was just “Yes. Just tell me how.”.
She had me measure my cock, a bunch of different ways. She said she had a craftsman that builds BDSM equipment and that I’d be pleased with the device he was going to make for me. When it arrived, she had me Skype her so she could walk me through the process of putting it on. It was stainless steel, and had a shaft that would go into my urethra (ouch!). It was clearly well built and probably expensive. It had a ring that went around my balls, and they could only drop through one at a time. Then my cock had to be squished through. Finally, the top part had to be coaxed onto my cock. We had to stop a while so my arousal faded and we could complete the process. She explained that the discomfort associated with putting it on, and getting the shaft into my cock would go away after a few times, and I’d get used to it.
She was right. Though initially uncomfortable, the chastity cage quickly became just a part of my wardrobe. I’d put it on when instructed, and wear it a day, or two, or three. She’d tell me when to put it on, and would have me keep the key at home in a jar. She clearly understood chastity play, because each day after putting it on, she’d push me farther and farther in our little games. By day 4 I’d have a hard time focusing on work, and all I wanted to do was to have her talk dirty to me, and tease me. Often in this state she’d make me fuck my ass until cum started to leak from my cock. She taught me to milk myself in this way, and then to eat my own cum for her. It was wildly erotic, and the chastity somehow made me crave the ass fucking and enjoy the sensation like never before.
I was starting to think that our relationship was going to stay just as it was. That I’d never meet her, or get to touch her. To be honest, I’d sort of come to accept that. She was there for me when I needed her, and I felt owned. She knew my hopes and dreams, and also my darkest fantasies. She’d taken me places that I’d never have gone to on my own, and I’d enjoyed it. I loved her training, and what she did to me for her pleasure. I’d collected several dozen videos that she had sent me of her body in various states of arousal, including several shaking convulsive orgasms. It felt to me like I was there with her…but still I didn’t know who she was.
One day out of the blue she said that it was time for me to come see her in person. She told me that this was not something that I should take lightly, as there would be some tests that she was going to put me through. I’d apparently convinced her that I was ready for the next level, though I had no idea what that meant. I was nervous, but nothing would have made me say “no”. Basically I jumped at the chance.
She told me what airline ticket to buy. It was 3 weeks away, and it was a terrible flight. Three different stops just to get to Cleveland, and it was a red-eye that started and ended in rush hour. There was no return flight. She said that the return would depend on my behavior before erzurum escort and during our visit. She warned me to please her in everything that I did.
I was a little surprised when she told me to mail her the key to my chastity device. She didn’t ask me to do it. She just told me to. She gave me a PO Box number in Cleveland to send it to. I asked how I’d get through airport security with a metal device on my cock. She laughed at that and said it was part of the games she had in store for me. With the route she’d given me, I’d have to go through security not once, but three different times – twice during rush hour. She watched me (on Skype) put on the device and seal the envelope. She said she’d call me again once she’d received the key.
Five long days later she called me. I answered her questions and told her how I was feeling. The five days without any communication with her were terrible. I felt alone and stupid. Why was I doing this? At day 3 I’d even thought about cutting off the lock and dropping the whole idea. I told her all this, and in response she told me “you’ve been such a good boy. I’m very proud of you. I’m going to push you so much farther, but I’m confident that you are up to the challenge. I think you’ve fallen in love with me.” I admitted that yes, I was in love, and I needed her. I didn’t know who she was, but I loved her all the same.
Over the next two weeks, she worked me into a frenzy and teased me about the things she might do to me in Cleveland. She had me make a few more travel arrangements, and she gave me some landmarks where we would be meeting up. I did my best to try and figure out where she lived, using those landmarks and everything I knew to date about her. But I couldn’t really figure anything out.
Well, after two strip searches (by the third airport, I was in the database already as “pervert with a steel chastity device” so they didn’t search me, they just laughed at me) and a long night of travel I arrived at my destination. It was a nice little restaurant, sort of Italian. I sit down at the table in the center as instructed. It had a “reserved” sign on it, and two place settings.
I’d expected to see a red-haired woman walk through the front door, and I drove myself crazy looking for her. But after about 20 minutes, the waitress (nice looking woman, around 30 years old) comes by and asks how I’m doing and if I was expecting anyone else. I told her my name and said that yes, there would be one other person. At that, she smiled and handed me an envelope. It had a key inside…not just any key, but the key to my chastity device. Just as she walked away my phone rang.
It’s She. She says that describes the pleasure it’s given her that I’ve come this far. She had me describe in detail my experiences getting through security. I gave her the long version, describing in particular the way it felt to have the metal-detector wand beep as it went across my groin, the look on the faces of the TSA staff when I had to explain what it was…and then again, the whole time with the travelers in the line watching me wondering what was taking so long.
After I finished my stories of my travels, she explained that we were not going to meet here in the restaurant. Rather, I was going to prepare myself, and then she wanted me to walk to the park which was about ten blocks away. I was about to say OK, when she explained the rest of it. She said that in the women’s bathroom there was a small overnight bag. I was to take the key to the bathroom, remove my clothes, take off the chastity device and then open the suitcase. I was to dress fully in what she’d provided and then return to the table for further instructions.
I do so. So dressed fully in heels, fishnets, a mini skirt, a silky blue bra and a white top, I’d put on the perfume and done what I could to fix my hair. I wished that I’d had an opportunity to shave, because I was sporting an obvious 5-o’clock shadow. I felt stupid, but for the first time in weeks, my cock was rock hard and straining in my panties. Back at the table, my waitress brought me some wine – she said it was on the house. I had a glass, and then another waiting for my phone to ring..
When She called, I was instructed to reach under the table. There taped to the table bottom was a set of handcuffs and a blindfold. I was told to bring them with me and walk to the public park nearby. The whole way there, rolling my little overnight bag, I was looking around, trying to catch a glimpse of red hair…from a window, from behind a tree, walking by and glancing…I say several red-heads, but none with that whispy hair that I knew so well. I knew the shade, the shape, the way it blew in the wind. I knew her shape and her approximate height (about 5’6″ to 5’8″). Looking for her helped me not be so self-conscious about being dressed up like a tranny slut mid-day in the middle of town. I got quite a few glances and some “shake my head” responses, but really all I could think about was meeting her, and getting to that park.
I got to the park without any real trouble. Once there it took me a while to find the spot that she’d described. It was a tree behind a bench, overlooking a pond. She had described it perfectly, and so I was sure it was the place. Red bench, tree with the yellow leaves, the pond looking across to the city buildings.
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