Isabella’s pov
As I awoke, the room was bathed in the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains, casting a serene ambiance that lifted my spirits instantly. It was the day I would finally meet the master. Everything seemed unusually beautiful, the air crisp with anticipation.
I picked up my phone and read Mr. L's message once more. He had a private apartment in Melbourne and even a personal driver. The thought struck me anew—this man must be incredibly wealthy.
How would I, a simple person like me, meet someone so affluent? What was he like in person? Was he old or young? Handsome or nondescript? Did I already know him, or was he a complete stranger? And most importantly, what kind of person was he? Was he kind, aloof, or something else entirely?
A surge of nervous energy built up inside me until I couldn't contain it any longer. I let out a muffled scream into my pillow, trying to dispel the jumble of emotions swirling within me.
I decided to stop speculating about the identity of the master. I trusted him implicitly, and if he wasn't prepared to reveal himself, then I wasn't inclined to press the matter any further.
"Better to go with the flow," I reasoned silently. After all, I did love a good mystery.
It seemed absurd to place so much trust in a connection forged online, but the more improbable it seemed, the more convinced I became that he was unlike anyone I had encountered before.
I felt drawn to him in a way that defied logic. I was captivated, willing to surrender to whatever he had in store for me.
Glancing at my phone, I noted it was still early, only 7:00 am. Two and a half hours remained before I was to meet the master.
A notification from Mr. L flashed on my screen, causing my heart to skip a beat.
Mr. L: I'm not ready to reveal my identity just yet. The first condition for our meeting is that you must be blindfolded from start to finish.
The idea of being blindfolded intrigued me. It carried a thrill, an element of danger even, considering we hadn't met in person before.
"But what if he's dangerous?" the thought crept in, unsettling yet oddly exhilarating.
I quickly pushed the concern aside. "It's not such a big deal," I reassured myself aloud.
Mr. L's message appeared on my screen again.
Mr L: I won't speak either.
Me: What? But I've heard your voice before.
Mr L: I'm training you to be the perfect sub for me. Don't you want that?
I thought about it. He's right. I do want that. I've never experienced a real sub training before. I want it.
Me: I want it master.
Mr L: Good girl. My hands and touch will suffice to pass all my messages to you and my desire for you. Trust me, I'll make myself understood. I promise today will be unforgettable.
My pulse quickened.
Me: Are you sure we can manage without talking?
I typed back, my breath feeling hot and heavy. Texting him was already making me so horny. Seeing him will be the bomb!
Mr. L's response was swift.
Mr L: Yes, silence can be more thrilling than words. And if you need to stop at any point, just give me a firm slap, and I'll understand.
I pondered his words, the anticipation mounting.
Me: How can silent training be more exciting than verbal?"
I sighed in frustration, kicking the quilt aside as the relentless heat simmered through me, igniting every inch of my body. A wave of need pulsed through me, my nipples tingling painfully against the fabric of my top, begging for attention. His attention but since he wasn't there I used my hand instead, slightly pinching mu hard nipple.
“Oh, Levi!” I moaned.
Shit!
I caught myself in time.
No no! Not Levi! Mr L.
Moan Mr. L!
With a deep breath, I slid my hand beneath the sheets, fingers trailing down my heated skin until they reached my core. As expected, I found myself wet and ready, my body responding eagerly to the impending arrival of my menstruation, when desire always peaked.
"Oh God," I murmured, a fleeting worry crossing my mind. "What if I get pregnant?"
Pushing the unsettling thought aside, I reminded myself to stay present in the moment, to embrace the desire coursing through me now.
"Why am I so aroused so early in the morning?"
I wondered, my thoughts immediately drifting to Mr L. It was moments like these that made me limit our chats to late nights when the darkness could cloak the intensity of my feelings.
Now, I'm going to spend the whole day horny. I can only hope no one notices. Shit!
Mr. L: What safe word would you like to use? It should be something that can instantly cut through any desire and help you calm down.
The mere mention of a safe word from Mr. L sent a shiver down my spine, stirring desires that seemed to flood my senses like an intoxicating aphrodisiac. Chatting with him always ignited an intense craving, leaving me achingly needy.
I couldn't resist the urge to touch myself, teasing my clit with one hand while the other deftly typed responses on my phone. Each message from him pushed me closer to the edge of pleasure, my breath hitching as I balanced on the precipice of arousal.
Me: My safe word is lace.
I finally managed to type, amidst the building tension in my core. I'm so so close to cuming.
Should I tell my master that I'm touching myself?
What would he say?
Will he punish me?
Mr L: Good girl. I like it.
Me: You do.
Mr L: Yes.
Came his response, immediately followed by a list of tantalizing options that sent a jolt of excitement through me.
Mr. L: Touching, spanking, pure palm or tool, finger insertion, genital insertion, oral sex, anal plug... Did I leave any out? What are your do’s and don'ts in a BDSM relationship? I want to know so I don't cross my boundaries. I want to make this sweet for you, baby.