Spontaneous Combustion

Chapter One-3

That image alone. That terrifying length of leather doubled in a man’s firm grip. She’d be flying to ecstasy at the thought of her ass beaten red in atonement for her bad behavior. In her inner life, she was always naughty and in need of punishment, lusting for the pain it produced and the authoritarian force behind it. The story of his first kink encounter hit her leather belt obsession head on. Almost sounded like a plot device for an erotic novel. But no, this was real time; his past colliding with her most powerful fantasy. Suddenly, that leather belt fantasy didn’t feel like a fantasy anymore.

That image staring out at her from an otherwise innocuous email sent an erotic shockwave through her that verged on orgasmic. How was this even possible? Without a lick of warning the game had changed; this phantom on the other side of her emails had unknowingly marched into her sacred territory and staked his claim.

Their on-line conversations continued for the next several days, kicking up so much s****l heat that she thought she’d explode from the power of her lust. By the time the storm hit and her muse kicked in and she sent her “Yes, yes, yes,” in answer to Jack’s, Did I cause all that? she was ready to take the next step. Had this masterful man been plotting this seduction all along, leading her every step of the way? That was too absurd to believe possible.

But she’d once lived in a world of impossible dreams come true, could this be another one? Was he the dominant man with the leather belt? The dominant master who haunted her dreams?

***

A week before she was to leave on her trip, the phone calls began. The prospect of talking on the phone to Jack ushered in a whole new level of excitement. Unfortunately, the phone was not Jack’s best means of communication, and sometimes the conversation lagged for lack of subject matter they could comfortably discuss. The explicit s*x they spoke of in their emails was not easy to discuss on the phone. She could forgive him for that. This wasn’t easy for her either.

Regardless, she liked hearing the sound of his voice, and what he did say confirmed the sort of man he was. He was mature, kind and easygoing, revealing in their short conversations the dominant character of his personality in a direct and forthright style that made her smile, even if it didn’t set off the fireworks she hoped for. His steamy emails were enough to keep her aroused, but she was left with numerous questions…was their on-line affair just a sexy turn-on in his busy life or was he actually serious about taking their relationship into real life? With so much about him still a mystery, she had reason to wonder if they could make a suitable D/s match.

Jack’s last call before Jeni left for her trip took her completely by surprise, coming at eleven o’clock in the morning. He’d never called at that hour – but then, he would have read her “Yes, yes yes,” that morning, so perhaps it wasn’t any surprise that there was something different in his voice, something deeper, a stronger vibrato, an authority that tickled her at the back of the neck and raced right down her spine, where the pleasant feeling settled in her crotch. He sounded more like the man in his steamy emails, but it was so much more than that.

“What’s your bra size?” he asked.

Bra size, really? She bit her lip like a bashful kid with a secret, and answered, “34C.”

“Panty size?” came next, to which she ran into the bedroom and rifled through her closest, rattling off sizes as the questions continued.

“And how do you feel about sucking c**k?”

Oh my! At this point, she fell to the bed feeling the frenzied passion behind the conversation rattle her so much she felt too weak to stand. Meanwhile, there was a hot pink blush broadening on her cheeks – though Jack wouldn’t know that nor that her body seemed to beam with a lust as big as her giggling grin. “Of course, I’d suck your c**k, Sir.” The sir was new, but not contrived, coming out as naturally as if she’d been saying it for years. Her head space had shifted into a submissive place, matching the masterful gravity in the tone of his voice.

“How about swallowing c*m?”

“Sure, why not.”

“And licking ass?”

She hesitated a moment, then answered, “I suppose I’d do that too.”

“And sitting naked and collared at my feet, your master’s feet?” He called himself her Master – how bold was that?

So blunt. So uninhibited. So very different from their previous conversations. She’d been wary at the start, though her body was on fire from the instant the hot exchange began. Direct, demanding, interrogating, he was totally in command. He’d become the master, responding to her wilting surrender. She was his then, His. No longer was theirs a theoretical discussion of what might happen if they got together, but what would happen when they did.

“I want you to find some short lengths of string or yarn and tie little bows around each n****e. You’ll wear them tucked inside your bra all day.”

He rattled off his wishes as an order to which she felt obliged to obediently answer, “Yes, Sir.”

He’d assumed the role of Master and she the role of slave – to which she was still, at least mildly, repulsed. Wherever did he ever get this idea? These little n****e ties. So odd and strange and terribly sweet, all at the same time. Again she giggled inwardly, again she felt the sweep of desire as another intensely, physical wave. Clutching the phone in her left hand, she lay on her bed, tummy down, crotch grinding against the sheets, body melting into a puddle of submissive yearning. She felt his heat on the back of her neck, on her hot blushing cheeks and her tingling ass – as if he’d already given her a first smack on her bare skin. She could have f****d him through the phone if that were possible.

Throw away the fantasy. This was real!

A flesh and blood man. A huge demanding, unshakable force, climbed into her world that morning and took control, as if he had a right. As if he owned her. As if she’d already said yes to what should have been lengthy and deliberate D/s negotiations. He assumed, he didn’t ask. He assumed she wouldn’t balk. He counted on her obedience, and she didn’t deny him. He’d won her outright, and to his authoritative tone she surrendered without a moment’s hesitation.

Her mind spun like a dervish – thinking, listening, absorbing the message, realizing, even then, how he had taken charge of her and she made no effort to stop him. She didn’t want him to stop. She wanted that voice in her head to go on forever. She wanted his human voice, the deep bravado, the authority and quality of strength it conveyed. For the first time in forever, the old haunting masculine voice that had been with her all her life had been silenced, replaced by something real. The man with the leather belt was no phantom, no crazy piece of magic but a real man.

When the call finally ended, she lay on her bed for a long while, trying to figure out who he was that he could invade her space from miles away and have her captured. Who was this man? Good lord, she hadn’t even met him and she was ready to give herself to him, body and soul!

Stunned. Giddy. Exhilarated by this sudden, bold advance, she shook her head in wonder. Who the hell was he?