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When Julie met Steven

E R Britayne   July 14, 2022   | 11640 Views
“… Steven was drawn irrevocably into my service shortly after and we were married within a year. He has become my council, my cuckold, my means of support and in many ways is very dear to my heart. Life would not be the same without him...” Luxury

I had wanted Marcus in particular to be the father of my children for more than a year, since first learning of his status as the Community Bull. A piqued curiosity at first, quickly became an obsession. I had finally gathered enough nerve to put the wheels of my plan in motion, and now that my husband Steven, had resigned himself to his role in the years to come, I could move forward with confidence. I would use Marcus to sire three, maybe four children. Steven earned a good income and had a bright future ahead of him with the firm. We could easily afford to raise several children.

Steven had presented himself as an eagerly submissive male from the very outset. Our relationship is a perfect example of how two polar opposites attract.

We had met nine years earlier through an online dating site that was very popular at the time. It catered mostly to people looking for a permanent relationship that had been frustrated with trying to find romance through traditional means; in nightclubs, through work, or among their friend’s networks. I need to call the shots in a relationship and if I’m honest, possess an entitled attitude with an occasional cruel streak. Very few of my first dates and early encounters with the men I’d meet lasted long enough to become relationships. I would either quickly get bored with them or just outright chase them off in frustration.

It became very clear to me that to continue looking for a suitable male in the traditional way, was st best, a waste of tome. I needed to try a much different approach to get what I wanted and quite frankly, what I felt that I justly deserved.

I had some profile shots done by a well-established professional photographer best known for his boudoir work.  My natural look is sporty meets preppy, on a petite frame, with C cup breasts, a narrow waste and a gymnast’s backside. My bitchy friends at boarding school would refer to me behind my back as ‘Tits on a stick’. He dressed and posed me in ways that made me look hot without breaching the site guidelines. I was guaranteed to cast the widest possible net on a site called Plenty of Fish.

It was a good strategy as I was quickly bombarded with attention. I was pinged by a lot of interested men and able to select for desirable qualities bluntly and efficiently, disqualifying immediately any who clearly hadn’t taken the time to read my profile.

Anyone making the first cut would receive a canned response to their email if it appeared well written and genuine. After a couple of erudite small talk exchanges, I would move the conversation to ask frankly whether they were comfortable being in a female led relationship and if they had any experience in the lifestyle. Less than five percent made it to this point, and only one in fifty of those expressed any interest in further contact.  It was a time consuming and arduous process, but I was determined to only meet with a man who would be genuinely comfortable with my inner Bitch.

I nearly gave up. It took me five months of patient sifting through the chaff before I encountered Steven. We had a lot in common, both educated and from well established and well to do families. He had asked me in a very forward way what kind of play I wanted in a D/s relationship, to which I replied that I enjoy flogging my partner the most. It sometimes put me in a trance.

He responded by writing that if I truly enjoyed flogging someone then he was a man that I should consider meeting in person. I ignored him for another week, ruminating on the possibilities before agreeing to meet for coffee.

I teach English composition at a junior college in a community nearby and at the time I agreed to meet with Steven, I was very busy with grading term papers and didn’t have a lot of bandwidth for social activity but saw it as an opportunity to test his resolve to participate in a female led relationship. It was clear he was looking for somebody like me to control him and was eager to make an impression. I set up a meet at a favourite coffee shop informing him that I would be wearing a lemon-yellow silk blouse and a white linen skirt. I omitted that the skirt was split halfway up the thigh far enough to see the lace work at the top of my stockings.

I arrived at my favourite place forty-five minutes early, choosing the table in the corner by the window and set out a stack of term papers. I began redlining my way through them, taking an occasional glance at the door, looking for a thinly built man about 170cm tall in chinos and a sports jacket, with short black hair and blue eyes.

He arrived fifteen minutes early, and immediately approached me. “Hello Julie, I’m Steven. Pleased to finally meet you.” He offered with a smile, “May I sit down?”

I sized him up and down long enough for him to realize what I was doing, then replied, “You’re fifteen minutes early Steven. I’m busy marking term papers. Perhaps you could get me a cup of black current tea and give me a few minutes to finish this before we get to know each other.” I watched his perplexed expression suddenly change to the realization that I had just asked him to fetch me some tea.

“Erm… oh yes. Of course, black current tea! I’ll get that for you. Would you like a pastry?”

“No just the tea thanks. Black, no sugar.” My gaze had already returned to my work.

He returned a moment or two later with the large tea mug and saucer that the coffee shop favoured and placed it off to my right. There was a sachet of black current tea steeping in hot water. He went back to the counter and returned with a teaspoon and a couple of paper napkins, placing them to the right of the saucer.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted it bag in or out.” He said, making conversation, perhaps, waiting for me to express my gratitude.

“You could have asked. Have a seat at another table,” I said waving him off without looking up, “I won’t be much longer.”

He took a seat a table nearby that offered a good view of my exposed thigh and sat patiently waiting for me to finish. I would occasionally straighten my leg, showing off the toned muscles of my thighs and calves, then adjust my skirt, or absent mindedly fiddle with the lace at the top of my stocking, for no other reason than to tease him. At one point he refreshed my tea without my needing to ask, busing away the original cup before taking his place again.

I stretched his wait out for an agonizing hour, considering that an adequate test, before abruptly rising and announcing that I would have a quick visit to the Ladies’ before we left. He seemed a bit surprised, probably because we had not discussed going anywhere prior. In the restroom I quickly removed my bra and tucked it into my purse and pinched my nipples for a few moments as they quickly stiffened up. I then tightly tucked my blouse into my skirt making sure that none of it was visible through the linen. The ten-gauge captive bead rings showed through the thin silk along with my erect nipples perfectly.

I freshened my lipstick and as I applied a thick gloss, a wave of sudden inspiration came over me. I quickly entered on of the stalls for a quick pee and adjusted my hose suspender straps under my panties so that I could quickly remove my underwear without impediment. Then first moistening two fingers by inserting them into my pussy, I played with my clit long enough to lubricate things considerably, enhancing my natural blush and thickening my areolae in the process. 

I then pushed the gusset of my lace panties against my now juicy labia, capturing as much moisture as I could. Originally, I’d planned to have my yoga instructor remove them with his teeth later in the evening, but, as they say, plans change.

Walking back to the table I was able to affect a nice breast bounce which both Steven and my pert nipples seemed to enjoy. He quickly rose from his seat as I approached.

“I’m afraid Steven that I’ve lost track of the time. I have a session with my yoga personal trainer that I simply must excuse myself to attend. I am sorry.” I offered without looking at him as I gathered up the papers and marking pens, placing them in a leather valise.

“Would you be so kind as to walk me to my car?” I insisted more than asked. At that point I looked him squarely in the eyes, almost daring him to refuse.

“Of course! I’d be honoured Julie.", was his reply.

“Good, lets go then.” I walked quickly to the door with him following and stopped a meter from it, to allow him to do the gentlemanly thing. He quickly opened the door and I stepped through it into the early evening light and began a brisk pace. Steven hurriedly caught up and kept pace alongside.

“Steven, I would prefer that you place yourself between me and the curb if we are walking together. I’m surprised that a gentleman such as yourself would not be aware that is the proper thing to do.”

He seemed a bit confused at my request but quickly obliged without comment or excuse. We came to a red traffic light, and I announced, “I’m parked a few hundred meters or so from here, down a residential side street.

As we walked along the busy city street it became aparent that my bouncing bejewelled breasts were a source of delighted distraction to oncoming men. Not so much for their female companions. A few dared to glare. 'Bitches', I thought to myself.

Steven attempted some small talk as we waited for a light to change, which I ignored completely. It wasn't much further until we left the main street and turned down the heavily treed avenue of older three storey homes that were between fifty and a hundred years old. It was not long before we arrived at my metallic blue Miata convertible.

“This is me.” I announced stepping out in front and reaching into my valise to press the unlock button on the fob.

He opened the door and stood waiting for me to get in. He seemed to be attempting to steel his courage, “Thanks for meeting with me Julie," he finally blurted out, “do you think it likely that you would like to get together again when you are not so busy with work?”

I looked up at him and for the first time offered a smile. “I think so, yes. Come around here and take a knee Steven before closing the car door.” He did so at once. 

“You made a very strong impression on me this evening. You are clearly a very patient, kind, and submissive man. I’m very happy to have found you. I think I'll be seeing a lot of you going forward. I have a small treat to offer you.”

With that I quickly hiked up my skirt, and with both hands, pulled my now soaked black lace panties to my knees, before allowing them to drop to my ankles. I then stepped out of them, a foot at a time, before snatching them up. Steven was frozen, his eyes glued to the panties. I then moved forward to the edge of the seat and spreading my legs gave him full view of my neatly groomed pussy. It was virtually hairless, save a small landing strip of closely cropped straight black hair rising above my clitoral hood and swollen labia. 

I slowly inserted the panties, slowly and entirely into my eager vagina save a short piece of waist band. Then, with a finger on either side of my clitoral hood,I  played with myself for nearly a minute making a low toned ‘cooing’ sound. Steven let his jaw drop, transfixed completely. I felt an amazing surge of energy and sexual power over him, like some Amazon Warrior Giantess.

“My pussy is so wet because you are such a good boy Steven. I’m collecting my honey in my panties for you to take home. You will keep them with you constantly until our next meeting.” I said, as I slowly pulled them from my moist center and handed them to him in a bunch. “Stand up and pocket these, then go straight home. I have a couple of things I need you to do for me.”

He pocketed my panties without uttering a sound, as I positioned my linen skirt in a more ladylike fashion before swinging my legs into the vehicle. He stood there looking at me in an unmistakable expression of awe.

“Door please, Steven.”

He instantly awoke and closed my car door before taking a step back. I beckoned him come hither as the engine roared to life with that always satisfying rumbling sound. Once he got close enough, I said in a low voice, “You go straight home and, on the way, enjoy the fresh scent they have while they are still humid. When you get home, I want you to masturbate to orgasm at least twice and cum all over them. I want them completely soaked with fresh cum. Then lay them across your pillow and take a nice picture with your cell phone and text it to me immediately.

After that, using cold water only, rinse them in your bathroom sink and then wash them with just a little shampoo. After you rinse them well again, place them to dry over a clean towel hanging on your bathroom rail. Send me a photo of them drying. You will then take them to work tomorrow and at some point, before lunch, I want you to send me a photo of them freshly soaked with your cum once again, laid out carefully on your office keyboard at work.

Steven listened, enthralled, as I continued. “You’ll receive more instructions tomorrow. Do not fuck this up Steven! Our meeting again next week depends on it.” With that I slipped into reverse gear, backed up a meter or two and then shifting into first, quickly wheeled out into the street and down the avenue. I caught a glimpse of Steven in the rear-view mirror as he remained standing there for as long as it took me to round the corner at the next intersection.

Steven was drawn irrevocably into my service shortly after and we were married within a year. He has become my council, my cuckold, my means of support and in many ways is very dear to my heart. Life would not be the same without him.

I must admit though, I’m not sure I understand why he puts up with so much for so little in return. Loyalty to our marriage is by far his greatest asset. The depth of his strength of character in that regard, knows no bounds

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