Chapter 1

‘Ok, this is it, ma’am.’ A drawl on the ‘ma’am,’ a sarcastic stretch. She couldn’t blame him. She wasn’t exactly wearing white kid gloves and a pillbox hat. In fact, what she was wearing was skimpy, thin, meant to excite, to titillate, as it were. A practically see-through cream-colored blouse, deep cleavage, exposed-nipple shelf bra underneath. A short, incredibly short, black skirt, garter belt, black stockings, spike heels, no panties. Sitting with legs apart, as instructed, hands resting open on the seat on either side of her body, not daring to try to cover any of it. No wonder the driver was grinning, actually, leering and fidgeting, too. He was no doubt aroused by her outfit and by the thought of the club to which he had driven her.

The taxi had arrived at Command, a private club on a swank street within the most elite section of Chicago’s business district. Well, she would continue to follow his instructions. She paid the driver and reluctantly left the confines of the cab. As she stepped out, though, the driver called her back. ‘Hey, miss, you left something on the seat.’ She turned around, bent into the back of the taxi, giving passersby more than a glimpse of her ass. She saw nothing until he pointed to the seat itself.

‘You left something there,’ he said, pointing. And then she saw it, the darker, wet area where her arousal had dampened the leather.

‘Oh,’ she responded weakly. She knew what was required of her. Master had apparently omitted no details in his instructions. She climbed back in and, bending over with her ass practically between the uprights of the two front bucket seats and inches from the driver’s hands, legs open as required, she licked the seat until she couldn’t taste herself any more. Then, using a tissue or two, she dried the leather until all evidence of her condition was gone. But the cabbie now had a hand on her ass and two fingers up her vagina and was pumping away, finger-fucking her with his unwashed hand. And of course she was wet and slippery, and humiliated, which gave her the greatest thrill of all.

There she was on a lovely, wide, sunny street (fortunately not in the city in which she lived), having sex with a hand in a taxi, where anyone who cared to gaze through the windshield could see what was going on. And she could do nothing but accept it, because those were her instructions, too.

‘If anyone decides he wants you or to do something to you, or to have you serve him, you will obey. From this moment, all men are your Masters.’

The driver knew, of course. Command was well known, not just in Chicago but in all the major cities. It was one of a chain of such clubs and, judging by the rush to membership, was not merely popular but actually seemed to be filling a need that had gone unacknowledged for too long. The entire membership of Command was crowded with men who enjoyed masterful, controlling dominance over women. It seemed, too, that there was no end to the number of women who enjoyed being - or, perhaps, needed to be - their submissives. They were the sex slaves of the men and, from all appearances they loved every minute of their enslavement. Avidra was one of them.

Abruptly, the driver pulled his hand out of her sex, slapped her ass none too gently and ordered, ‘Turn around and eat me, slut, now!’ His seat glided back so she could reach his cock, as she awkwardly squirmed into the front passenger seat. She sent a furtive glance toward the street, hoping no one would see her and yet at the same time hoping someone would. She got on her knees on the seat and turned toward his crotch to find she was facing a massive erection. It was thicker than her wrist and reached well above the bottom of the steering wheel. Her mouth watered even as she wondered whether she could take it in. Impatiently the driver grabbed the back of her head and pulled her down.

She opened her mouth, quickly licking his cock to lubricate her way, then engulfing the head and as much of his shaft as she could. The driver helped. His hand pressed her head down onto his cock and it entered her throat and closed off her breath. Using her tongue, she swirled it around, drew her head up, then down, up and down as his breathing came ragged through his gritted teeth. Her ass up in the air again, she felt the swelling of her nether lips and their familiar dampness. She kept her legs open as Master had instructed, supporting herself with her hands, one on the driver’s right leg and the other on the seat next to him.

After a moment she drew back and caught a hurried breath. Then, pressing his penis into his belly, he pushed her head down, sliding her face along the bottom of the wet shaft to his balls, ordering her to lave them well. She eagerly absorbed the scent of unwashed male as her nose neared his hairy, somewhat sweaty balls. With swift strokes of her tongue and gentle tugs of her teeth she easily brought him to fever pitch.

Forgetting where she was and the compromising nature of her position in the heat of the moment, Avidra took a deep breath and brought her mouth down again on that monstrous cock. She took it in, feeling it actually stretching her lips. She reveled in the sensation of that cock in her mouth, pushing its way down her throat. With his hand guiding her, she renewed the rhythm that would send him over the edge.

In no time, without warning, he erupted, sending his cock and his sperm deep into her throat. Her eyes watered with the effort, but she stayed with him, licking until he went limp and pulled away.

‘That’ll be thirty dollars,’ he said, ‘and don’t forget my tip, either.’ She was confused for a moment, then realized he wasn’t charging her for sucking him off, but for the cab ride from the airport.

‘Oh, yes,’ she replied, reaching into her bag.

‘Now out, slut,’ he ordered. ‘You’ll get your fill in there - all you can eat!’ As the cab departed, she found herself, disheveled and red-faced, on the sidewalk. Quickly, she smoothed her skirt, straightened her blouse and ran her fingers through her long, blond hair. Her nipples stood out stiffly from her thin blouse as she hurried to the ornate door and rang the bell.

A small window at eye level opened. ‘Yes?’

‘I’m here to see Master Edward,’ she said softly, hoping no one passing would hear her.

‘And you are?’ A lofty, high-toned voice asked.

‘I am Avidra,’ she answered.

‘And the purpose of your visit?’ the voice inquired.

Embarrassed and impatient now, she responded, ‘That’s none of your business! Just tell him I’m here!’

The window closed. Then nothing. She stood there waiting, as people passed, looking her over, chuckling, one or two even laughing aloud. After what seemed an eternity, she rang again.

‘Yes?’ The window opened again. This time she knew better.

‘Please, I’d like to see Master Edward.’

‘And you are?’

‘Please tell him his slave … his cunt slave, Avidra, is here to serve him.’

‘Wait here.’ Again, she waited.

Endless minutes later: ‘Come in.’ The door opened just enough for her to squeeze through. The hallway was dimly lit, and she couldn’t see the Man with whom she had spoken. As her eyes began to accustom themselves to the dimness, he said, ‘Kneel, please. Remain erect with your hands clasped behind your head.’ She did as she was told. He walked behind her and slipped a chain over her head. It hung loosely around her neck. He affixed it to what must have been a leash. The metal of the chain was cool on her overheated skin.

‘On your hands and knees, now, please, keep your legs apart, head down, and follow me.’ Excited, breathless, she followed his instructions, allowing him to lead her.

He proceeded, Avidra following like a dog, over thick carpets. She snuck a peek; he tugged her chain. But she had seen light at the end of the hall, perhaps some tables around which men were relaxing and some easy chairs nearer to the walls. It was a spacious, luxuriant, well lit comfortable room.

They entered, he first, of course, with the side of her head brushing his thigh as he held the leash tightly to him. ‘Very good,’ he remarked, ‘for a first visit.’ Now stand and walk over to the bar. Seat yourself. If your Master decides to see you, he will let you know.’

Again obeying, Avidra got to her feet, sidled over to the bar and lifted herself onto a waiting seat. She hoped no one had noticed her but of course there was no chance of this. The bartender approached. ‘Open your legs and lean forward,’ he ordered. Startled, but growing accustomed to men giving her instructions, she spread her legs and rested her breasts on the bar. The cold leather of the seat met her hot sex. The cool feeling was most welcome, though she thought she might be licking this seat, too. She ordered a club soda.

A huge mirror over the bar gave her a good view of the room. She saw her Master immediately. There was an indefinable air about him … an insouciant look, a confidence, an arrogance that took her breath away. He did not glance her way. He was involved casually it seemed, in conversation with two men, all three in large, comfortable armchairs in the center of the huge room.

Not for the first time, Avidra wondered whether she could go through with this. For a moment she thought to leave, quietly and unobtrusively. She knew it truly was her choice. Her heart was pounding with the excitement of it, of meeting the man who might actually, in a very few minutes, become her Master, and she his slave, to obey his every sexual whim, if he found her satisfactory. She could not leave. She was powerfully drawn to him and to the idea of submitting herself completely to the wishes, desires, even the whims of a masterful, knowing, self-confident man.

For so long she had yearned for a relationship like this. And then she had found those sources on the ‘net, the erotic stories about domination and submission, about humiliation and complete obedience. As she read, her sex opened, moistened, her breath came short and sharp. She was mesmerized by the stories, by the fantasy of submission becoming actual reality for her.

She had imagined herself kneeling before an as yet unknown Master, waiting with eyes cast down for his instructions. She would be wearing perhaps a dog collar and nothing more. Or a garter belt and black stockings with high heeled shoes. Her arms, at the elbows, would be drawn back sharply behind her back and tied there, forcing her breasts to jut forward and her knees would be apart, since Master would not permit anything to inhibit his access to her pussy. Her pussy as she herself, in fact, would be his. Master would, of course, be fully dressed, accentuating her nakedness and vulnerability.

Her fantasies were endless, involving her in daydreams all through each day and night. She longed for and yet feared such a relationship. What would become of her if she surrendered herself and became merely some man’s possession? How could she be submissive to a man, she who was so fully a part of the women’s movement, who advocated for women’s rights and believed with all her heart in equality between the sexes? She had no idea, but there it was.

She had always resented a Male who appeared to be dominant or arrogant, confident of his prerogatives as a man. Now she knew she had blocked her true feelings. Now she knew she wanted a Master who would hold her head as she knelt before him, who would shove his cock down her throat until her nose met his hairy groin, who would fuck her face for his own enjoyment. This, just the thought, gave her breathless pleasure.

And then she had thought of the ‘net. She searched assiduously, thoroughly, tirelessly and finally she found Master Edward, whom she was about to meet for the first time. She could no longer recall how they had touched on the subject, but she soon found herself obeying his emailed Commands, no matter how humiliating or inconvenient and regardless of the fact that he would never know whether she had actually acted in response to them.

She could recall Master Edward’s first Command: She was to clean her apartment on the next Saturday with the door open and the shades on all the windows lifted. She was to wear nothing but thong panties and her highest heels. She obeyed these orders implicitly. She was to tell anyone who asked that she had been instructed by her Master to do so. That first time, she was permitted to refuse any invitations that might arise from this behavior.

She considered that she had been fortunate in this first adventure. It had turned out to be a hot, muggy day and the windows of the other apartments had been closed and shaded against the weather. No one passing her door had peered inside. Nevertheless, she had spent an anxious yet highly stimulating two hours cleaning the rooms and wondering where this might lead. When she completed her tasks, her apartment was sparkling and her thighs were soaked with her juices.

In their next email encounter, Master Edward had instructed her to don a garter belt, black hose and obscenely high heels and to wear nothing else. The back of her couch faced the door to her apartment. She was to open the door and then, with legs wide open, she was to lean forward over the back of the couch, in full view of the door, for an hour. This time, Master ordered, she was to call any man who inquired, ‘Master,’ and she was to obey his Commands without hesitation. With pounding heart she obeyed, displaying her wide open, soaking wet pussy and ass for the neighbors.

She remained in that position for about twenty minutes and was beginning to tire of having her head down and her ass up, when a deep baritone said, ‘This looks rather interesting. What have we here?’

She answered, not daring to move or adjust her embarrassing posture, ‘Master, I am commanded to comply with your instructions and I will gladly do anything you require.’

‘Very well then,’ came the reply, as she felt rough hands spreading her ass cheeks further apart, ‘spread your arms wide, to either end of the couch.’ She heard him close the door, thus creating a secret den in which he could do as he wished with her. She listened as he strolled through her apartment, opening drawers and doors and rummaging around at his whim. She did not dare to look up, but waited fearfully, her legs spread, bent over the back of the couch, her arms now not helping to support her, but spread wide, too, making her position all the more precarious.

Apparently finding what he was looking for, the man returned and quickly tied her arms to the arms of the couch. Then he spread her legs as wide as possible, thus lifting her feet off the floor, and tied each ankle to the feet of the couch. Now she was truly in his power, her sex and ass in position to take his fingers or his cock. Or anything else, she thought. She was afraid, yet so wet, and breathless with anticipation.