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At the Station

7th September 2019 - 13:52 | London, Nnw London | Age 44


As the two of you drew closer to the train station, to which he had kindly offered to walk you, you surreptitiously glanced him over one more time, taking in his appearance and itemising what you liked. Tall, broad chest and shoulders, strong arms and hands, well dressed without being overly concerned with it, a leonine mane of hair, well trimmed beard, glasses… yes, he would do.
At the station you turned to thank him for walking you back, and stopped short. He had such an intense look on his face, confident, controlled, stern, but with a hint of a smile. You found yourself too nervous to speak, a situation that had largely held true throughout the evening to this point. He was so close to you, looming over you, looking down at you, and you could feel his presence throughout your body, an electric warmth spreading across your limbs, your chest, your belly… elsewhere. Your breath was short, and he seemed to be even closer. His hand was at the side of your face, stroking your hair, and although your mind told you that this was not the plan, that this was just supposed to be a social meet, you pressed your face towards his fingers, eager to feel even the slightest hint of his skin on your own. That was he needed, and his hand was in your hair, wrapping itself around and pulling you in. His other hand was now on the other side of your head, and his face close to yours. He was whispering things to you… ‘I thought you said you had to leave? Aren’t your friends going to wonder where you are?’ He was right, but you were frozen, immobile, and felt no urge to enter the station, to be anywhere but right here. His lips were so close to your face, and you could feel the warmth of his breath, but he was not touching you, instead teasing you, and you knew it, but were helpless to do anything but submit. You turned your head slightly towards his face, and that was all he needed. His lips pressed against yours, and you opened your mouth to him. He kissed you gently for a few moments, then pulled you hard into him and he took your mouth in his, and you could feel it across your entire body.
You stood there, in front of the station, for several minutes, feeling his hands all over your body, out in the open, with dozens of people walking past. He didn’t seem to care, and you were shocked that it didn’t seem to matter to you. You could feel your slight embarrassment, and a tingle of knowing that these people were probably looking at the two of you, but you just continued to let it happen, even as his hands worked their way inside your blouse, and under your bra, and were on your breast, tenderly at first, then aggressively, then his strong fingers were digging into your flesh and he was twisting and pulling, and your nipple was crushed between his thumb and forefinger, and you could feel your knees buckling instinctively, and you kept wondering if the people walking by could see where his hand was, but you never tried to stop him, never pulled your mouth away from his probing tongue. He stopped his kiss for a moment, his hand rolling your now tender nipple back and forth, every so often pressing down hard on it, as you let out little gasps and your body tensed. ‘Do you want me to stop? All you have to do is say stop.’ You said nothing, though the pain was enough to bring tears to the corners of your eyes. ‘You must be a tough young lady? Is that true? Are you tough? Can you take what I give you?’ ‘Yes,’ you replied, ‘I have a high pain threshold.’ His eyes sparkled and a mischievous smile spread across his face. ‘Is that so?’ he asked.
You felt his hands slide away from your poor little nipple and down under your arm, and his hands dug in to the soft flesh just under your armpit. This was excruciating, and your knees really buckled this time, as you pulled your body away. But his other arm was around you, and there was nowhere to go, and to tell the truth you didn’t really want to go anywhere. ‘Does that hurt?’ he asked, teasingly. ‘Yes,’ you replied in a hushed whisper. ‘Yes, what?’ he queried, a slight tone of menace in his voice. ‘Yes, sir,’ you hastened to correct yourself. His hand continued to squeeze and pinch the sensitive flesh around your ribs, and you squirmed and twisted, unable to control yourself, hearing the footsteps of people walking past you, just a few feet away, and wondering what this scene looked like to them, if they knew what was happening, what they were thinking about you.
Then his hand slid downwards, and was at your skirt, sliding under the belt, and down between your legs. Still you did nothing, and let this man, whom you had just met a few hours ago, work his fingers inside your panties, where you knew he would find a sopping wet mess, here in front of a busy train station. ‘You really are a filthy girl, aren’t you, letting a man finger your pussy out in public, and getting soaking wet from it?’ ‘Yes sir,’ you replied, contorting yourself so his fingers could access you more easily. You gasped again as he slipped inside you, and you felt him rubbing your insides. He fondled you like this for several minutes, your mouths again locked together, your arms around him, and his free arm holding you tightly, squeezing your ass. People continued to walk past the two of you, yet it never even crossed your mind to try and stop. You could not believe what you were allowing him to do.
He pulled his hand out of your soaking pussy and in one quick movement his fingers were down your throat, deep down, and you could not stop yourself from gagging, but instead of pulling away, you sucked him in even deeper. This was too much. Surely everyone could see this filthy girl, sucking on this man’s fingers, cleaning her own juices off, allowing him to treat her like a filthy whore, a playtoy for his pleasure, for all to see. But you kept sucking, and if anything it made you even more wild, more willing, more heedless of the staring people around you. His other hand grasped one of yours and slowly pulled you between his legs, where you could feel his hardness, a tremendous bulge that melted you even more, and put you totally in his control. ‘Do you want to suck this?’ He asked, his tone matter of fact and almost disinterested. ‘Yeth’ you slobbered, his fingers still deep down your throat. ‘Do you want to suck it right here, in front of this train station?’ You felt a surge of fear in your belly, and froze for an instant, not because you were terrified that he was going to ask you to do it, but because you know you would, instantly, without a moment’s hesitation, right here in front of all these people, on your knees, undoing his trousers, letting him spring free, and taking him all the way down your throat. You knew you would do it, that you could not stop yourself. ‘Yeth,’ you heard yourself saying, a note of desperation and desire in your voice.
Suddenly, without warning, he pulled away from you. ‘Your friends will be expecting you. You’re late. Get going.’ He turned you around, smacked you hard across your ass, and shoved you towards the station. You stumbled forward, your head a mess of thoughts, wondering why you had planned to meet your friends tonight, how you had allowed this still strange man to do those things to you, wondering whether you should turn around and beg him to let you stay, to tell your friends you could not make it. All you wanted to do was to give yourself to him, to call him master, to let him tie you up and torment your body, and use you for his pleasure as he saw fit, to give yourself totally and be his slave, his fucktoy, his kitten. You knew at that moment you were ready to be trained, to serve his cock and obey his orders and willingly take his just and righteous punishments, to open up your entire body for his use. You knew you would only ever say ‘yes, master’ and ‘thank you, master’ and ‘of course, master.’ You knew your limits would become his limits, that he would dictate your actions, that you would instantly and unhesitatingly and happily obey him. You turned, ready to tell him all this, but he was already gone, walking off in the distance, back to his flat, to do whatever great and noble things such masters did. You turned back to the station, disconsolate, ready to meet your friends, and wishing you were with him instead.

Hello, I am an athletic, attractive, tall man, dark long hair and a beard, eager to meet you and seduce you into giving yourself to me, making yourself mine to do with as I please. I am gifted with words, well educated, and capable of making you tingle with excitement and anticipation, all the while knowing that your place is to serve and wait on me.
You should ideally be between 18-40, no more than pleasantly curvy, ready to submit, intelligent and lively. You can either be very experienced or brand new to this. I am very patient, loving, considerate, and willing to train you, as long as you have an open mind and are willing to consent to my every word.
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