Episode 6: Before I Told Him to Kneel

I watched him through the blinds.

Of course the blinds were drawn.

Not fully. Just enough of a gap to see him pull up and park.

I had given very specific instructions.

10:00 a.m. sharp.

Not early.

Not late.

Ten o’clock.

I watched him sit in his car until 9:59.

Then, right on cue, he got out.

Everything about our arrangement had been discussed beforehand.

At least, everything we thought to discuss.

No kissing on the lips.

No penetrative sex.

Boundaries established long before he arrived.

The challenge was that Daniel still had no idea what he wanted.

Or at least no language for it.

The more I asked questions, the more he answered with questions of his own.

“I don’t know. Would you enjoy that?”

“Do you like doing that?”

It was frustrating.

And illuminating.

Because every time he redirected the question back to me, I was forced to confront a truth:

I wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted either.

If I’m going to do something, I tend to do it all the way.

The amount of research I had done before this meeting was absurd.

Articles.

Forums.

Books.

Conversations.

More conversations.

More chats with AI than I care to admit.

Looking back, it was just another version of the same thing I’d always done.

Trying to gather enough information to feel certain.

Trying to think my way into confidence.

Not trusting myself.

But there was no turning back now.

I opened the door wearing a silk robe, which I dropped after he entered.

Daniel stepped inside.

And before either of us had time to think too hard about what was happening, I heard myself say:

“Get on your knees and thank Mistress for allowing you to enter.”

The words felt foreign.

And completely natural.

Daniel dropped immediately.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

No hesitation.

No nervous laugh.

No wink to let me know we were pretending.

Just trust.

I instructed him to go upstairs.

Undress.

Put on the blindfold.

Wait for me.

“Yes, Mistress.”

And just like that, he disappeared upstairs.

What happened next was perhaps the strangest part of the entire day.

I made him wait.

Twenty minutes.

Twenty minutes that felt like twenty hours.

While a naked man sat upstairs waiting for me, I sat downstairs scrolling Instagram and pretending I wasn’t acutely aware there was a naked man upstairs waiting for instructions.

I remember sitting on my couch staring at the wall thinking

There was a naked man upstairs.

Blindfolded.

Waiting for me.

A woman who, just weeks earlier, didn’t even know what D/s stood for.

What the actual hell was I doing?

The blindfold wasn’t really for him.

It was for me.

There was absolutely no chance I was ready to lock eyes with him and do this.

Not yet.

I had laid everything out beforehand.

A riding crop.

Feathers.

Nipple clamps.

An anal plug.

A variety of vibrators.

Ice.

Hot wax.

Everything neatly arranged.

Since Daniel didn’t know what he liked, I decided the day would be less about performance and more about experimentation.

A little research and development.

R&D.

I had dressed the part too.

A sequined mesh bodysuit.

Heels.

The heels were a rookie mistake.

The visual? Excellent.

The practicality? Debatable.

A lasting image, I’m sure, for the naked man waiting upstairs.

What surprised me most was how quickly time disappeared.

I became completely absorbed.

Paying attention.

Watching reactions.

Learning.

Listening.

Some things landed.

Others didn’t.

Nipple clamps received an immediate and enthusiastic red.

A useful discovery.

We had established our safety system beforehand.

Yellow meant slow down, adjust, check in.

Red meant stop.

Everything stops.

No questions.

No negotiation.

Just care.

A lesson Captain Sully had taught me early on.

Over our time together we

Tested.

Learned.

I took him right to the edge and then pulled him back again.

And again.

I experimented with sensation.

Different textures.

Different temperatures.

Different levels of anticipation.

At one point I heard the unmistakable sound of the anal plug settling into place.

A sound that, to my complete surprise, I found intoxicating.

I can still hear it today.

What surprised me wasn’t his reaction.

It was mine.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped wondering whether he was enjoying himself and started noticing that I was.

I had imagined dominance as confidence.

Authority.

Control.

Instead, it felt like attention.

Like listening.

Like becoming completely absorbed in another person’s experience.

Our dynamic felt unique because we were each other’s firsts.

Neither of us fully understood the power of what we were stepping into.

We were learning in real time.

But one thing became clear.

He wasn’t finishing before I did.

And if he wanted permission, he was going to have to beg for it.

The trust.

The anticipation.

The release.

I’d never seen anything quite like it.

Afterward, we lay quietly

Breathing.

Recovering.

Regulating.

Waiting until our nervous systems settled.

Waiting until our breaths found the same rhythm.

Then, after about ten minutes, I told him it was time to get dressed and leave.

It felt harsher than I expected.

Mean, even.

But it was what we had discussed beforehand.

The agreement was the agreement.

So he got dressed.

Quickly.

And left.

A few minutes later I found myself back at the window.

Watching him drive away through the same narrow opening in the blinds.

And then it hit me.

I was high.

The best high of my life.

And I’m a sober addict.

I know highs.

I sat in my room replaying the entire day.

Wait.

How long had that been?

An hour?

Two?

I checked the clock.

Four hours.

Four.

Hours.

How was that even possible?

My God.

That was the hottest thing I had ever done.

And we hadn’t even had penetrative sex.

I understood then why people spend years chasing these dynamics.

Not because of the sex.

Not because of the toys.

Because for four hours there had been no grocery lists.

No work deadlines.

No ex-husband.

No anxiety.

No questioning.

Just complete presence.

And despite everything we had shared that day, there was still one thing I hadn’t managed to do.

I hadn’t looked him in the eye.

If I could do all of that with a blindfold between us…

What would happen when I finally took it off?

A few days later, my phone buzzed.

A message from Daniel.

“Mistress, may I ask you something?”