Be gentle....

Until the day when it happened, I had no idea that a woman could want to think that way about anything. My girlfriend was a young professional woman working in a serious, pressured job. She was good at it, and well respected for the quality of her work. We traveled to keep in touch and it was my turn to travel to her.

It was early in the evening and she had gone upstairs to get changed so that we could go out for a drink. I thought it would be fun to surprise her, but as I gently walked up the staircase I had no particular plan in my head. I walked in quietly to see her fully clothed, choosing some clothes for the evening from the wardrobe.

I took her wrists in mine and quickly held them behind her. She stumbled and fell upon the bed. She twisted as I held her, and I allowed her to turn round so that she was now on her back. She put up a good struggle, and I allowed her to seem to gain the upper hand more than once so that she might think she could win. After the second or third time I made sure I gripped her wrists firmly and pushed them above her head as I knelt astride her.

“What are you going to do now?” I said in mock triumph.

And then she said the words I had not expected. Misty-eyed, and with her lids closing, she said dreamily “Please be gentle with me, Master”.

I was young and lacked the understanding I have now, but even I knew that what was being said was important, and was about something intimate. I am so glad I realised this, and did not mistake it for part of the game, and laugh. I remember not quite knowing what to do, so without saying anything more I tightened the grip on her wrists a little more and pushed them a little deeper into the pillows.

At this, I caught an audible sigh of pleasure from her. Her eyes were still closed, and her mouth opened to say “Be gentle. Please be gentle as you use me, Master”. And at that point, I felt her lift her belly. I felt her grind a little below me. I moved one leg and left my knee between her thighs, and as she felt this she began to ‘struggle’, with her movements thrusting her mound against my immovable knee, her hands remaining forced above her head.

She was always self-conscious about her small breasts, even though she knew I thought they were beautiful as they were. As she struggled her nipples hardened visibly under her t-shirt. I made sure my arms brushed them so that she could be in doubt about her predicament, forcing her wrists a little higher. Her nipples hardened further, more clearly than I had ever seen. And as if to confirm all I needed to know, I could feel the warmth of her coming through her jeans too.

With both of my hands pressing her wrists into the pillows it was not easy to do much more than graze her breasts with my arms as she struggled. But clearly, the situation demanded more. I pulled her wrists together, and quickly used one hand to pin them both down. That gave me the chance to reach across and take the belt from her dressing gown, and just a few moments later I found that I had both hands free just as she found that she was in exactly the opposite position.

I had worked out that she desired a Master, but what was it that she needed? I knew from the little groans she made that she liked her wrists being restrained, and her struggles continued to ensure that my knee felt her growing warmth. The situation seemed to demand something that would help her continue to feel vulnerable.

So, with her hands tied above her head, I began to pull her t-shirt up. I had planned on doing it slowly, but her wriggles and struggles meant that it was not so much done slowly as jerkily and slightly roughly. Up until now, we had only really touched each other with gentleness, but it seemed that this was just as enjoyable for her. In fact, as I tugged the shirt above her bra I would have been willing to say she was enjoying this situation more than any I had seen. As I have said, she had beautiful, small breasts which tended not to fill even the A cup bras that she typically had. When I had looked at her in her bra before I had noticed that the fabric was often loose, concealing her nipples as a result. Now, as she struggled, the fabric was taught. I tugged her t-shirt over her head and grazed her breasts with my arms as I did so. I was left in no doubt by the sounds that escaped that she found pleasure in the situation.

And now, with her hands tied above her, and her shirt pushed up to her bonds, she found that her bra was lifted sharply, deliberately catching her nipples as it passed. She shivered beneath me, her eyes still closed as they had been since this she had begun to beg of her Master. Slowly I dragged a nail across each breast, watching the taught skin pucker at my touch. As I did this I slid my other hand down to replace my knee, leaving her to find that the general pressure had been replaced by the rather more focused sensations as she pressed against my fingers.

The hand that had been slowly teasing her bared, taught breasts was moved slowly downwards, tracing a line over her navel until it was level with the waistband of her jeans. They were undone roughly, with her still pressed hard against the hand between her thighs. I wanted to surprise her as I removed her jeans, and so I pulled her sharply, turning her on to her front. As she turned, a sharp tug on her jeans began to remove her last defence. I had intended to leave her in her bra and panties, but her jeans fitted well enough to partly drag her panties down as they moved.

As I finished tugging her jeans off, I looked up to see the panties had rolled down to cover up her modesty, but little else. A thong would have covered more. I put her jeans aside, and knelt over her once again. I chastised her for leaving her bottom so brazenly exposed, and made sure that she had the chance to grind a little against a well-placed knuckle. And before I could wonder what to do next, the prostrate form in front of me gave me more guidance. “Please, Master, don’t beat me. Not too hard, please”.

And so this was how I first found out that an independent modern young woman could be responsible and professional at work, and yet want to explore something very different when she felt confident enough to reveal her desires. I knew even then what a compliment and what a responsibility it was to have her share such dreams. Since then, the responsibility has grown into both a privilege and a pleasure.

Tags: anticipation, arousal, submissive