Silent Rose

Of course I fucked her.

How could I do otherwise?

Rose was good enough to send me a fantasy of what might happen if we met. When she saw her efforts published on my blog, she decided she could do a better job and wrote another fantasy.

I believe diligence should be rewarded.

Rose has had a difficult year. As she recovered from health and career struggles, she decided that she wanted to change a few things in her life.

Her ex had fucked her like she was a mattress.

She wanted better sex. She wanted more sex.

Rose wanted to be transformed into a submissive slut. She wanted to serve a man who would fuck her lights out and whip her until she cried away all the sorrows of the previous months.

She looked for such a man.

She found losers.

When she discovered my blog, she stayed up all night reading and masturbating.

The next morning, she wrote to say she wanted to serve me, if I would have her. She had never considered doing many of the things I write about, she said, and now she couldn’t stop thinking about them.

I thanked her for the offer, and gave this some thought.

My failed attempt to launch an affair with Laura had left me wondering what it would be like to enter into a pure dom/sub relationship, one uncomplicated by friendship or romance.

Rose was not asking me to be her friend, or her boyfriend.

She was asking to serve me as my slut.

I read her fantasies about me. She certainly had a good erotic imagination, if tinged by romanticism. She had imagined our first date as a mixture of abject submission and fine dining.

In doing so, she gave me a few ideas. I thought of things I might give her readily, and the things she might need to earn.

I also considered the things I might learn from having a dedicated submissive slut.

Being a dom is still rather new to me, and my experiences have developed within ongoing relationships. If, for whatever reason, the dom/sub activity didn’t pan out, I would want those relationships to continue.

In this case, I had an opportunity to try my mettle with someone who had no expectations beyond serving me as I directed.

I agreed to see Rose.

I laid out the ground rules.

If she was invited to serve me, she was to learn what I enjoy, and to do those things on command. In time, if I kept her, she would need to anticipate my desires, fulfilling them before I asked.

She asked if I would punish her for failure.

Absolutely not, I said.

I don’t play childish games.

I had no interest in playing out the usual mater/slave dynamics of “yes sir” and “no master.”

That kind of nonsense may work for the middlebrows who once played “Dungeons and Dragons” and now consider J. K. Rowling to be our best living author.

It would bore me to death.

As I understood it, she sought pleasure and pain as rewards for good service. If she served me well, I was happy to supply her with the sex and beatings she craved. If not, I wouldn’t bother with her. Simple as that.

She agreed.

I told her that if she were to serve me, the sex had to be good. I wasn’t interested in simple discipline without sex. I would expect a good fuck if we were to meet.

She agreed.

Our first meeting would have a strict time restriction. Two hours, max, with no guarantee of future meetings.

She agreed.

I would not light candles, play soft music or feed her salads with shaved Romano cheese. I would offer no romance.

She agreed.

She was to bring me a bottle of Maker’s Mark and serve drinks as I like—two cubes, three fingers. If my glass was diminished, she was to anticipate that I may want more.

She agreed.

She would learn that until she was nude, she did not exist for me. I wanted immediate access to her flesh at all times.

She agreed.

Finally, she was not to speak in my presence. I required absolute silence.

She balked.

I can’t talk? she wrote. But I have so much to say to you.

I’m sure you do, I replied. And perhaps one day you will earn the privilege of speaking to me. But for now, I’m not here to be a good listener. I’m here to be served. Your service is not enhanced by the sound of your voice.

She agreed.

We had a basic contract.

She would serve me drinks and provide me with holes to fuck.

In return, I would reward her with orgasms and beatings.

One more question, she wrote. I know that “Jefferson” is a pseudonym. Will you tell me your real name?

Serve me well, I wrote. If you do a good job, I will tell you my name at the end of our first meeting. If not, you will leave without knowing my name—a good indication that I will not be seeing you again.

You can have my name after I have you.

She agreed.

We set a date.

I have to confess, the whole thing had me very turned on.

Rose was prepared to bring me bourbon and serve me, nude and silent. She would surrender her flesh to me. When I sent her away, I could decide if I wanted her back soon, or never again.

She was eager to do this, and not because she likes my looks or my personality.

She didn’t even know my name.

She wanted to please me because she likes my writing.

Now, that got me hard.

I planned our first meeting, laying the groundwork for potential developments. I wasn’t too keen on bondage or beatings on a first date—call me old fashioned, but I think those things should come in time, with trust and security.

We were just going to fuck and get acquainted.

Rose arrived at my door carrying a bag and smiling nervously.

“You are precisely on time,” I smiled. “Nicely done. Welcome.”

She stepped inside. I closed the door.

I took her head in my hands and kissed her.

It was a long, open kiss.

She trembled a little.

I stood back and smiled.

“Put down your bag and take off your coat.”

She did so, shaking.

“You may leave your coat on the floor.”

She dropped it.

I kissed her again.

“Now, you are forbidden to speak, so I will ask yes or no questions. You are permitted to nod or shake your head in response. Do you understand?”

She nodded, her eyes wide.

She had very pretty eyes, I noticed.

“Just to review—you are here to serve me and get fucked. Your ass is fair game, but new terrain. You want to be spanked. Am I right?”

She nodded.

“Any reason I need to avoid leaving marks, should I decide to beat you?”

She shook her head.

“Good.”

I kissed her, firmly. She leaned into my kiss.

My hand softly touched her cheek.

As we kissed, I inserted two fingers into her mouth.

“Follow me,” I said, tugging on the inside of her jaw.

She nodded.

I tugged firmly, pulling down slightly so that she would have to stoop.

I guided her to my bedroom.

At the foot of my bed, I released her from my grip. I sat in my chair.

“You should undress now,” I directed.

She danced nervously, clearly struggling with the urge to speak.

“Ah ah,” I admonished. “Remain silent. And remember, you don’t exist until you are nude.”

She took a breath and nodded. She tugged at a sweater.

“You may leave your clothes on the floor.”

She removed her sweater, and unfastened her skirt.

She dropped them to the floor and looked at me.

“All of it.”

She was clearly not accustomed to being nude, particularly in front of strangers.

We would have to work on that.

She unfastened her bra, and dropped it to the floor.

She lowered her panties.

She stood up and gestured “ta da.”

“Thank you. Did you shave your pussy for me?”

She nodded.

“That’s not required, but I do appreciate attention to details. Will you turn please?”

She wriggled her arms in protest, then turned.

Rose’s body was well suited to corsetry, I noted. Large breasts, taipered waist, ample hips.

“Bend over, please.”

She looked at me over her shoulder.

“Please.”

She bent at her waist.

“More, please.”

She bent more deeply.

Her ass would be a splendid target.

“Rose, did you notice that I neglected to make my bed this morning?”

She looked back at me, then at the bed.

“Would you please make it for me?”

She stood and turned to me. She pointed at her chest.

“Yes, please. Spread out the top sheet and duvet. The pillows rest on top.”

She walked to the far side of the bed and straightened the sheets. She put the blue pillow on top of the patterned one.

“Actually, the blue one goes on bottom.”

She nodded, correcting her error.

She crossed to the other side of the bed, and made it as directed.

“Rose, you may want to take a pillow. You will want it as you massage my feet.”

She nodded, and took the pillow. She placed it on the floor, and sat at my feet.

I placed a bare foot on a breast.

“Here.” I reached into a drawer. “Use this lotion.”

She took it, nodding.

As she worked my foot, I chatted easily for a while. Gradually, I grew quiet, closing my eyes and relaxing.

I rested my other foot on her thigh.

This was very pleasant, I thought.

The meter was running on the time I set aside for her.

I pondered letting the clock run down on this foot massage.

I dreamed of feeding her my toes, of smushing her face under my gentle feet.

She gently placed my foot on her empty thigh, and took the other foot.

I opened my eyes. She was gazing at my face. I smiled and closed my lids.

As she worked my foot, I looked back.

“Rose, would you like to get to know my body?”

She nodded.

“You may remove my shirt and kiss my torso.”

She nodded eagerly and stood, gently placing my feet on the pillow.

As she reached for my shirt, I pulled her into a kiss.

My hand softly caressed her hip and found her pussy. She was very wet.

I surrendered my shirt and sank into my chair.

I remained still as her light kisses trailed my torso.

Her mouth kept returning to the top of my jeans, her eyes on the bulge against my right leg.

“Rose?”

She looked up.

“I’ll take my bourbon now.”

She nodded.

“Rose, you will be alone for a moment. You will have opportunities to read my name on my mail. I want to trust that you will not do so.”

She nodded.

“Please lower your eyes as you fetch my drink.”

She nodded, looking down.

“Thank you. Now hurry, I don’t want to be kept waiting.”

Rose was clearly a very good girl. She was a raw submissive, very new to this, but complaint and eager to please.

I pondered the responsibility of taking her on.

She returned with my drink, walking quickly, her eyes low.

“Put it on the table, please.”

She did so.

“Two cubes, three fingers. Perfect.”

She smiled.

“Rose, you are doing a fine job. Would you like to suck cock now?”

She nodded eagerly. I smiled and squeezed her hand.

“You may remove my pants.”

I took a sip as she fumbled with my thick leather belt.

God, I love bourbon, I thought.

She unzipped my pants.

I lifted my ass as she lowered my jeans.

My cock jumped to greet her.

She lowered herself to the pillow and smiled at me.

She knew this was a critical test. I can forgive many things, but I won’t tolerate a bad blowjob.

She licked my shaft as I sipped bourbon, watching.

She swallowed me, slurping quietly.

“Very good, Rose.”

Her hands rested on my thighs, then caressed my balls.

I gave into the warm feeling of her mouth and the bourbon melting in the back of my throat.

Her mouth left my cock and licked my balls, moving lower. I spread my legs as she licked my asshole.

“Rose, Rose.”

I let her eat my ass good and long.

I sipped my bourbon.

She returned to my cock.

“Rose?”

She looked up at me.

“Rose, please lay back on my bed and spread your legs.”

She smiled, nodding.

She lay in the center of my bed and looked back to me.

“You have done a very nice job of getting to know my body,” I said, standing. “I would like to get to know yours.”

The smile seemed plastered to her face.

I kneeled between her legs, caressing her skin, talking gently.

I pinched her nipples.

I slapped her tits.

“Is this good?”

She nodded quickly.

I slapped her pussy, gently.

“You like?”

She nodded.

“I’m going to lick your pussy now.”

She nodded.

That wasn’t entirely honest. I was going to like her pussy eventually. First, I wanted my lips on her flesh.

My mouth roamed her torso.

She gasped when my tongue finally hit her clit.

She came fast.

The first sounds I heard from her were not words, but gasps and moans.

“Nice, Rose.”

I gave her two fingers and sucked away another climax.

“All right, now let’s get to business.”

I collected another orgasm.

“Okay, now I need to fuck you. Ready?”

She nodded.

I slapped her.

“You are not ready.” I handed her a condom. “You need to put this on me. My hands are greasy with girl juice.”

She opened the package and put the condom on the head of my cock. She put it on backwards, and flipped it to try again.

“First time?”

She nodded.

“You’ll get the hang of it.”

She rolled it down my shaft.

“Okay, now you are ready.”

She gasped as I entered her.

Her mouth opened and her eyes were wide. I fucked her deep and intense.

She came.

And once she came, she cried.

“It’s okay, you can cry,” I said, fucking more slowly.

I slapped her thigh as I revved up again.

Tear ran down her cheeks as we fucked.

As we rested, I told her that her time was almost over, but I had one more task for her.

I had a date later, and I couldn’t very well fuck another woman smelling like her.

She nodded.

“I want you to give me a bath.”

She nodded.

“Trouble is, I’m not sure my bathtub is as clean as it could be. Would you mind scrubbing it?”

She looked at me as if to ask if I were serious.

I told her where she could find Ajax and a scouring pad.

She stood to do as asked.

“Rose?”

She turned.

I nodded to my empty glass.

She took the glass and returned with a bourbon, two cubes, three fingers.

I was reading. I didn’t look up.

I smiled as I heard her scrubbing.

Of course my tub was perfectly clean. She must have noticed that, but still, she scoured.

She did as told.

She came for me when the bath was ready.

She washed me.

As I soaked, she sucked my dick while I read to her and drank my bourbon.

The ends of her hair floated on my thighs.

I was very content.

“Rose, I’d like to thank you for your fine service,” I smiled. “Now our time is concluded. I want you to get the fuck out of my apartment.”

She sat back and raised a finger.

She motioned in the air.

“What are you, retarded? What do you want? I told you to leave.”

She raised a finger, then stood and left.

She came back with a Sharpie marker and an envelope.

She wrote one word: “Name?”

“Give me the pen and bend forward.”

I took the Sharpie and wrote my name in large letters, backwards, across her tits.

She looked down, trying to make it out.

I laughed. “Bend forward again.”

I wrote one more word on her belly.

“Look in the mirror, retard.”

She looked and read my name in the mirror.

Below was the word “moron.”

“Now kiss me and get the fuck out.”

She flipped me off, then kissed me.

I read as she dressed in the next room.

I soaked as she let herself out.

Before my date I sent her an email.

Rose, you did very well. I will see you again, and next time, I will beat you back and blue.

One last favor.

Please start a blog. Every time we meet, you will have twenty-four hours in which to write an account of our meeting.

You may also write about anything you choose.

See you soon.

She sent an effusive response.

She told me I had given her the first orgasm she had experienced from penetration.

She pledged to be a good submissive slut for me.

And she sent me the link to her new blog.

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