Here is a multiple part story I'm currently working on.
Enjoy.
******
As I walked down the street, the only thing that accompanied me was my thoughts and the muffled sound of my steps on the wet stone sidewalks. I wore a few layers to warm properly for the chilly weather of London nights, but the cold still stung me in the exposed parts of my face. I held a small bag in my hand that contained the rest of my personal belongings that I did not wear, with whom I had arrived in the UK a few days ago.
As I walked toward my approaching destination, I wondered what I was more, brave or stupid. The choice I made had me full of me mixed feelings. On the one hand, a great excitement arose in my chest, and with each step I felt I was about to burst out of my body with excitement. On the other hand, my stomach twitched at every possible angle to the going forward into the unknown.
As I moved closer to his home, my feelings only intensified, tearing me between wanting to run in the opposite direction, and having to move on. His home was the type of classic houses that fit London's luxury areas. Classic, but well-preserved construction. Everything is clean and seems to have been built in recent years, although it has been standing for a long time. The front of the three-story house was a massive white stone facade with large windows, framed in black frames. The steps down to the street were made of white marble that was still wet from the rain that had fallen about an hour ago. Up the stairs was a double wooden door standing at two meters high with a silver knocker in its center.
As I got closer to the house, my thoughts turned to him. The man I will meet for the first time in a few moments. Who is that person? I don't really know either.
I first heard about him around the kink community. His nickname always came up when I talked to people about my bizarre quest to have a session where I had no control whatsoever. No input or say. Total surrender.
His nickname was the Phantom, like "The Phantom of the Opera." In his profiles, that I looked at for many hours, even before we got in touch, was only one picture, of a white half-face mask as in the familiar opera, set on a glossy black satin pillow. Something elegant and unclear. A stark contrast to most profiles that showed naked Sami photos of guys wearing equipment or leather clothing and latex.
His name has always come up in the context of discussions of total control. one of those experienced doms. Those who train slaves for very long periods, those who have lots of equipment and private dungeons, those who screen throughoutly anyone who appeals to them. In short, a kind of urban legend about the ultimate master.
At first when I first heard about him I admit to myself I was pessimistic. The kind of things that is too good to be true. I didn't think about him seriously and his nickname remained in the oblivion of the internet kink.
One night, which was characterized by extreme hornines and surfing until the loss of the mind at the various kink sites, I again came across one of his profiles and read in depth. There he began to wrap himself around me.
His writing was the first thing that spoke to me. He wrote eloquently, with great precision and detail which, on the one hand, let you understand what he expected of you, and still left it as an unclear puzzle. There was something about reading the content he wrote that I didn't come across much. Maybe in single encounters with certain masters that were very powerful. Something that I as a sub was longing for. There was such power in him that it even expressed through writing alone. It was as if his character rose up in front of me from the screen and this enormous need to simply kneel in front of his greatness took over me.
I found myself dwelling on a paragraph. Reading again and again, to savor his words. I unintentionally found myself touching myself feverishly, so much so, that I noticed what I was doing only when I was already halfway to cumming, while I was still dressed.
To my surprise at this moment I felt a certain shame. For some reason I felt it was wrong. Not the attraction, but my own audacity. To touch myself in front of this man's words. It just didn't feel right. Not without his permission.
As soon as this thought crossed my mind, something struck me. In a moment, I pressed the message button and started to type.
I told him about myself, personal details. What I did and experienced. Then I started to talk about this need that has been going around for years for me to be totally submissive. To lose all control. To choose nothing. How previous domination relationships didn't work for me because it just wasn't satisfying. Because I always had a choice. I found myself exceeding the very generous character limit provided by the site's messaging system.
I paused for a moment and read again. I edited and curtailed my outburst, because I still wanted to make a good impression on him, and before I knew what was going on the message was sent. At that moment, I was in a deep sense of shock. I don't usually send messages to random masters in the wee hours of the night. Especially not to people like him, but too late to regret it.
In the days after sending the message, the thought about him and the message I sent accompanied me constantly. Will he respond? He won't respond? What to do then? The thought of the message kept me going throughout the next few days. the longer the response didn’t came, the more my doubts and reflections got worse.
Three days after, I was at work. I received a mobile alert from the site's app for a new message. My heart began to throb strongly. So strong I could feel his throbbing in my throat. With a slight sense of anxiety, I opened the app. The message was from him.
The message read: "You aroused my curiosity. We'll talk on Skype today. ten o'clock UK time (GMT + 1) exactly. Username: Phantomofthedeep."
I stared at the message for a few minutes. Something in the oh so few details got my heart racing. In him deciding how and when we talk exactly. I felt my erection standing in full glory. I rolled my chair under the table in a hurry in case anyone passed by me. It was clear to me from the emphasis of the word "exactly" that he would not wait a moment beyond the specified hour. Immediately my thoughts flooded and my stomach began to roll over.
I took a deep breath and immediately downloaded Skype that I hadn't used for years. I entered his user information. It wasn't available. I quickly calculated the time difference between me and London and saw that I had exactly six hours left until a conversation with him. The excitement began to overwhelm me.
***
At ten o'clock I sat in front of my computer with great excitement. I took a shower; made sure I looked my best and sat down to wait. Don't know why, but I even sprayed aftershave and deodorant on myself. Something about this person I haven't even met or even exchanged a word with, made me want to be at my best.
I sat and waited. I stared at the computer clock as the minutes passed until midnight, so it would be ten o'clock in London. I watched the passing seconds and just as the clock changed to midnight, two messages jumped sequentially at the bottom of the screen.
One stated that the Phantomofthedeep user approved my membership request, and the other immediately stated that he was online. Not a moment passed and a video chat invitation was received on my screen. I pressed the answer button on the call and I could swear that my heart beat at that specific moment was stronger than the all other, beats before, just as I pressed.
The screen expanded and a dark figure appeared in front of me. An outline of a man sitting in the dark, on what looks like a wide armchair appeared. His hands were resting on its two handles. The only source of light was through one of the windows in the background behind him, probably from a street lamp.
A Momentary silence. During it I could hear the rain pounding hard against the windows behind him. Then he began to speak.
"Good evening to you" He said. His voice was deep and relaxed.
"Good evening ... sir." I answered and my voice got a little stuck as I spoke.
"No degrees are needed, Right now. You are not my possession, and I am not your master. As of right now."
Each time he mentioned the word "right now" the feeling of excitement that filled my chest jumped for a moment. I felt a slight involuntary tremor in my legs. they began to move slightly. I was really happy at that moment, that he didn't see my feet.
"Yes, si .... Yes. I understand." I replied.
"Great ... Now tell me more about yourself and your desire to lose control."
I felt as if a dam had been broken somewhere in the center of my chest, and I began to speak impetuously. I am not one of the people who usually speak so freely, but something about it made me feel so confident that all my feelings and thoughts flowed out as if my inhibitions were extinguished. He nodded from time to time in his shadows. He made voices of understanding and interest, but mostly listened.
During the conversation, I found myself feeling like I was showing off. Although I have not yet experienced such total control, I did take pride in a very rich experience over many years and encounters with many doms.
As soon as this feeling dawned on me, I tried to improve my image "But it's definitely nothing. I didn't do too much ..." I began to say.
"STOP!" He said in a firm, sharp tone that suddenly broke his silence and interrupted my apology sequence. "Do not talk down upon yourself or your experience. I will not accept it."
I stared at him for a moment. I had the unsettling feeling of him being able to read the thoughts I had in my mind, just a moment ago. As soon as I didn't break the silence, he said in a softer tone, "Keep going. I'm listening."
I didn't dare try to say anything else on the matter and went on to describe as much as I could, of all the experiences I had and situations I encountered. What I liked about them, and what I didn't. He occasionally asked short questions such as: How did I feel in a given situation? Or did it suit me that this thing took place.
In response to my answers, he just kept nodding and listening. He finally asked me what was the longest session I had, and what details I could provide. I replied that it went on for two consecutive (and satisfying I thought to myself) weeks and went on to elaborate on how i behaved, how the dom treated me and the details I could remember. He nodded at me when I finished talking.
"Thank you for your honesty. I will consider if you are suitable."
In those words the conversation broke off. I stared at the screen for a moment wondering what just happened. I felt as if I had just gotten off a particularly turbulent roller coaster. Then I noticed that the clock on the computer showed three in the morning. My mouth opened slightly.
We talked for three hours in a row and I didn't notice? I thought to myself. The sense of wonder accompanied me on my way to bed and long-awaited sleep after a long day.
***