Night had just fallen. Miguel was waiting for Sofia at the hotel bar. They had never met in person, but they had been maintaining a “relationship” for several months. 
 
It was going to be Sofia's first session ... Sofia arrived. She had faithfully followed the instructions: straight hair, black as night; high-heeled shoes; a short black dress with a deep neckline that accentuated Sofia's round breasts. She wore nothing beneath the dress and her anxiety made her nipples, so erect, seem as though they wanted to tear through the fabric and arrive at the session before Sofia did.
 
“Good evening, Sofia” ... the deep tone of his voice made Sofia shudder with a mixture of desire and anxiety. With her eyes fixed on the floor, following her Master's instructions, Sofia merely said, “Good evening, Master.” “Follow me” was all that was heard. An authoritative sound without any shouting. Sofia's body began to follow him. A need to serve this man invaded her body and mind.
 
Sofia felt a need to serve; with her eyes fixed on the floor, she followed Her Master. A figure whose face she still did not know (she had not dared look up), but the sturdy body of a 40-year-old man made her feel compelled to follow him.
 
The walk to the room was made in silence. Suddenly, it seemed as though the hotel had plunged into absolute silence, interrupted only by the sound of Sofia's heels echoing everywhere. With every step she took, Sofia's heart raced: anticipation, desire, anxiety. Sofia felt all of this while Miguel's words from the night before echoed in her head: “The power is yours, Sofia. In BDSM, the power belongs to the bottom. The bottom sets the limits and has the power to stop the session at any moment. You have two safe words, but I guarantee you won't need them. One to make the session less intense and another to stop it.”
 
As she thought, they arrived at the door to the room. The door opened and the room's gloom was cut through by the light of candles scattered around it. She did not take her eyes off the floor. She heard the door close behind her. She could not help swallowing hard. Noticing Sofia's anxiety, Miguel took the handbag she was carrying on her shoulder and placed it on the cabinet. With the back of his hand, he slowly traced Sofia's arm until he reached her face. With his fingers, he raised Sofia's face. For the first time, she caught sight of Miguel's hazel eyes. His eyes were sweeter than she had imagined. His perfectly shaped lips invited languid kisses. His beard was very short and well groomed ... Sofia could already imagine it brushing against her body.
 
Miguel's lips moved close to Sofia's ear and whispered: “Repeat your safe words, I need to be sure you know them, I will do nothing you do not want me to do.” The closeness of his lips, the breath that came from them, the certainty in his voice made Sofia feel confident about the night that was to follow.
 
She had agreed with Vanessa, her best friend, that she would call her so she knew she was safe, but she felt it would not be necessary... but an order from Her Master was an order to be obeyed. Almost automatically, Sofia said both words. “Good girl!” was what she heard, and she could not help smiling. She loved being praised.
 
Slowly, Miguel undid the zip of the dress, which fell away to expose Sofia's slender body. A beautiful body ready to be explored.  For a moment, Miguel stood contemplating the specimen before him. At 40, Sofia had the body of a 20-year-old. Elegant, slim, but curvaceous. A narrow waist widening into delicate hips and a dream of an arse ... perfect. Instinctively, he stroked that delicious arse he was going to mark. Her breasts were round, beautiful, firm, as if made by an artist, with erect, large nipples, ideal for what Miguel had in mind.  Sofia was, by far, the most beautiful submissive Miguel had ever had.
 
”Take the belt off my trousers.” Sofia promptly obeyed, holding it with both hands and presenting it as though she were handing a sword to a nobleman.  Miguel took the belt and slowly ran it along Sofia's leg. He began at her ankles and took his time until he reached her thigh. Sofia began to feel even more aroused. She felt the muscles of her vagina contract, fluids began to flow; this was everything she had imagined, much better than what she had seen in films.
 
Miguel repeated the movement and occasionally lifted the belt; Sofia thought this was when she would feel it, but it never was. Miguel was merely playing with her. Suddenly, when Sofia least expected it, Miguel's hand struck her buttock with all his strength. Sofia did not know whether it was from surprise or pain, but she felt ready to be penetrated right there and then, and let out a moan.
 
Miguel smiled with the malice of someone who knew what he was doing and whispered to her: “Not yet, my bi....tchhh.” The slow way he said “bi ... tch” heightened Sofia's desire even more. 
 
Miguel moved behind Sofia and put a pillowcase over her head. Deprived of sight, Sofia's other senses became sharper. She could smell the candles more clearly. She could clearly sense Miguel's breathing and hear his footsteps. “Take a deep breath” cut through Sofia's thoughts, followed by a sharp pain in her nipples.
 
Miguel had put on two clamps he had bought at the sex shop that very day.
 
Sofia had used clothes pegs before, but now she felt something different. 
 
On the one hand, the sensation of metal was different from wood. On the other, it was the first time Her Master had put something on her nipples. It hurt a lot. Miguel had been careful to place the clamps at the base of her nipples and not use their full tightness ... but the pain was much greater, and much more pleasurable, than clothes pegs. Sofia knew they were going to be used a lot.
 
“Thank you, Master,” she said as a tear fell. Miguel wiped away the tear with his finger, saying, “You know how to serve me, servant; I like that.”
 
Miguel knew it was Sofia's first time and, showing concern for his servant, asked, “Do you feel ready? Can we continue?” Sofia knew she was in good hands. This was Her Dom, the one who would use her body but care for her soul. She let out a “Yes, Master” without thinking twice.
 
Miguel led her to a bench in the room. He placed Sofia's hands on the bench and spread her legs slightly. Sofia was in a spanking position and blindfolded.
 
Miguel picked up his second purchase of the day. A leather-strip flogger. Thin but long strips. An instrument Miguel delighted in. But this one had caught his particular attention while he was walking around the shop.  Scarlet in colour, placed beside a provocative whip, it had captured Miguel's attention.  He knew Sofia was not yet ready for this flogger ... but he also knew this would not be his only session with Sofia.
 
He used the flogger as teasing, softly and delicately, and Sofia's mind plunged into a mixture of sensations. She knew exactly what it was because she had seen several, but had never felt one on her skin. With every touch, she felt fear of pain and excitement at the lightness of the touch. Sofia was burning hot and, in her mind, experienced the contradiction of desire and fear of this instrument of torture. How could something intended to cause pain be so pleasurable? At every moment, she expected to feel the strips tear her skin, but she only felt them moving across her body softly and gently, as though they were feathers.
 
She felt Miguel move away. She thought, now it is time. She tensed her buttocks to withstand the impact of the flogger.
 
The first impact was gentle, followed by several more that were equally gentle. A bearable intensity. Sofia knew Miguel was not going to be very intense (he had promised), but damn it, that was nothing. Or so Sofia thought.
 
Once again, when nothing foretold it, what she felt was Miguel's belt, the one she had taken off his trousers.
 
The belt literally left its mark. The pain was so intense that it made her forget the clamps that were still on her nipples. Her knees buckled and Sofia let out a cry. “It's only just begun,” was what she heard, followed by three more lashes.  The sound of the belt against Sofia's skin was the only sound to be heard. Sofia did not understand the mixture of pain and pleasure she felt.
 
Without knowing what was happening, when she realised it, her head was resting on the bench, her hands were behind her back and ropes bound her arms together. With her nipples and buttocks screaming with pain, her vagina demanded pleasure. Reading Sofia's thoughts, he picked up the wand she had brought (it was her favourite toy, and he had already ordered her to use it on video calls following his instructions) and began to massage Sofia's cunt.
 
“Come, bitch,” and Sofia had the biggest orgasm she had ever felt; a jet of fluids burst from her and a spasm ran through her body. 
 
Miguel did not stop. Sofia could hardly believe it. Her aching body begged for more, and the orgasms followed one after another, all forced. Her body could take no more and, at the eighth orgasm, she collapsed onto the floor.
 
Miguel smiled. He smiled maliciously, like someone who knew he had become the owner of this beautiful specimen of the female sex. Sofia was going to be his submissive. He knew it.
 
But now he had to take care of the most important part of a session: “aftercare”. Pampering and caring for Sofia.
 
He untied Sofia's hands. He kissed the marks left by the ropes. He lifted her from the floor and laid her on the bed.  He lay beside her and nestled her against his chest.
 
He whispered the words, “Your session is over.”
 
As he caressed and pampered Sofia, she felt a cosmic union.
 
She fell asleep in Her Master's arms, calm and at peace. The peace she had always heard about from other submissives and only now understood. The peace that comes from the freedom of having an owner to serve.
 
She slept and dreamed, dreamed of becoming the submissive she had always wanted to be.


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