Hilda\' s two Masters

Hilda’s two Masters part 2 of 13.

 

Obedient I put the safety belt on and put my hands resting in my lap, as if they were prepared for a new order.

 

They didn’t get anymore order, then.

 

When he stopped the car he stepped out of it and turned his back to my again. When he heard that I had opened and closed my door he turned to the car and activated the remote-locking of the it and the car obediently answered him with a “Blipp”.

 

I wondered if the car felt obedient like me.

 

He was suddenly so nonchalant, but in an interest awakening way that my curiosity carried me away.

 

I followed him. His whole performance, yes his whole being sent out dominance, something that I was underfed with in the last weeks and as my whole mind longed for.

 

Yes, I was vulnerable in my longing for Mats and his dominance. But in this there was more of me, as a woman being taken care of and that someone paid attention to me and loved me.

 

He was outside of his outer door and I had to half-run to catch up with him. I didn’t know if the outer-door should automatically close after him and let me staying outside in the night. I felt some kind of panic stream from inside of me.

 

In all my life I have been following my heart, my feelings. If it went wrong I could easily defend myself but not so easy if I followed my intellect.

 

“I just followed my feeling, that’s it!” 

 

Now my heart spoke clearly to me:

 

“Follow him and see what is happening!”

 

My God, I don’t even know his name and I just follow as an apathetic fool.

 

But perhaps he doesn’t know my name either, if not Elin had told him, that is, added my thoughts.

 

No, he didn’t hold up the door for me so I must throw myself forwards the last step to catch it before it closed.

 

“Was he that uninterested in me?”

Should I really follow him if he wasn’t eager at all?

 

If I had been a proud woman with out of submissive feelings and longing for dominance the answered had been clear STOP!

 

My mind tried in suddenly attack of fury that got me almost to turn, but my heart and curiosity wan that struggle.

 

When the door closed behind me I heard a small tone, yes, it was probably night-locked.

 

My legs knew better (it would become apparent) and the followed him upstairs.

 

I half-run the last steps and kept up with him outside his outer door in the block of flats (apartment house).

 

He unlocked it and opened the door for me and I stepped inside.

 

Next shock! Would there be more?

 

On the wall straight ahead hang swords, long knifes anyway, and a very long whip that as a snake coiled itself up. I think it was 2 meters (6 feet) long or more.

 

Mats had also a whip that he used more as a symbol of his power. But it was small with a wooden handle and a lot of straps of leather or rubber. At one occasion he   had slapped me with it until I was red on my bottom, but he had only used his right over me.

 

But WHO had I followed home?

 

The door was now closed behind me.

 

Was I secured here?

 

Elin knew him, so he must be OK. He also knew that she was sub (submissive) because he so quickly had caught her message: “She is like me, you know!”

 

Had he played with her? I must ask her. I had NOT killed her, you know.

 

Would he kill me so OK with me, I heard myself thinking and reflected of how foolish it sounded. I don’t want to die.

 

- Com in here.

 

He called out from inside the room and I obeyed.

 

The room was tastefully furnished as if with a female touch. But it was also masculine arranged with big and heavy leather armchairs and a big leather sofa in dark brown. The table straight ahead gave me also a heavy impression; it had some kind of grayish blue stone top. Perhaps synthetic material, I can’t see the different anymore. Curtains and the table-cloth were tastefully and in the same nuance and were in harmony with the rest of the room. My eyes attract to colors that spoke to them.

 

A lot of potted plants seemed well-managed and full of life. Such is not that usually in a single man’s home.

 

I remember that he had told me of a girl that had broken up with him, or did I imagine that?

 

Was there en woman here? The question grab hold on something in side me.

 

- So you are sub?

 

He asked quite frankly.

 

It came so suddenly, so straight on, so manly insensitively, as it was just another daily question to another person, not a deep and very private question.

 

- Yes.

 

I answered hesitant as I didn’t really know if it was his business. But my heart told me that it was.

 

- OK, just so I know.

 

He answered.

 

I said something in a squeaky voice, almost inaudible and I don’t even remember it now.

 

- Undress, now!

 

I heard the commanding voice, which I had longed for in so long time. An intonation that didn’t asked what I wanted, just took for granted that I was to obey. That voice that spoke to the developing slave-girl inside of me.

 

I was chocked by the finding that I was not chocked by this chocking order to a girl he had just brought home. 

In want of the chock I decide to do as I was told.

 

I didn’t answer but my hands started to grope for the buttons at my light-brown leather coat. I took it of and returned to the hall and hang it up neatly on a hanger. All my movements were slow and dragging in my uncertainty.

 

I return to the same spot in the room, near the hall. My hands started to unbutton my light-brown sheer material gown.

 

He smiled at me in an encouragement way making my hands sliding my gown down over my shoulders and towards the floor. I felt the indoor temperature chill my back, belly, behind and legs.

 

I folded neatly my gown and put it on a stool beside me.

 

He wanted to see my body and that was a good sign of his interest. Perhaps he only played uninterested on the street and in the stair-well. But he did it with a manly nonchalance that almost scared me away.

 

Somewhere in my sudden feminine omniscient I felt that this man had something to offer me that would surprise me.

 

It was clear to me that he was dominant and that he assumed to be obeyed.

 

He nodded to me and my hands went to my back and opened the hook to my bra and soon my breasts were free from their shut-in feelings. Now I really felt the chili air to my almost naked body.

 

I’m definitely not a slut and I ought to be red in my face, but I wasn’t. It was his natural way that affected me. Sometimes you don’t know yourself, how could you know others.

 

As Mats’s slave-girl I had undressed in front of two men before, but this time was the first in front of a complete stranger.

 

It felt nice in my body, perhaps because I felt my strong obedience. I only did as he told me. He was the one who steered the whole situation. He had ordered me to undress.

 

(Later he told me that he with his “undress” only meant my coat, but the submissive part in me had read it in a wider way. When he explained it to me I didn’t even felt ashamed.)

 

Now he knew that I was sub and hopefully he also knew that I wasn’t a slut.

 

Yes, it felt good to show my body for his approval in this way. I know I was supposed to feel horrible, vulnerable and humiliated, but well I didn’t.

 

In stead I did in my head a quick inventory of my body, that body now standing before him for his inspection:

My hair is growing and I know that people like my smile, my breasts are not too big and not too small and are not too heavy, my butt has firm muscles, my waist is slim and my legs are long and especially nice in high heels. Now was my calves hidden in my high boots.

Why didn’t I take my high heels instead, when I dressed at home?  I had thought about it, but didn’t think it would matter as I didn’t want to go in the first place.

 

Now I had a pair of thin briefs that didn’t give me much of cover, but they made a boundary to nakedness.

 

He looked at me, still smiling and raised his right eyebrow in a cute way and looked down at my fabric covered private parts.

 

He didn’t say anything so I didn’t know what he meant but my submissive part of my brain translated it to:

 

“Take of your cover!”

 

My hands obeyed him quickly and forced my last protection over my hips and over my thighs. I quickly stepped out from them and bended over to collect them in my hand and put them under my gown at the stool.

 

I felt totally naked but find out that I still had my high boots on. The boots were in the same tint as my gown and the coat.

 

It felt now rather ridiculous to be totally naked except for the high boots. I bended to take them off but he stopped me.

 

- Keep them on!

 

It was a clear and plain order. He wanted them on. That’s it!

 

I stood with my hand outside my thighs. I would rather be standing in the order-position, with my legs apart, my hands behind my neck and breast out. It was in that position my Master Mats had taught me to wait for further orders, but I didn’t know how this stranger wanted me.

 

I remember that Mats had read about that position and many more in “Anna38 diary” on the net.  There she also taught that my eyes should be at my Master in my attention.

 

He watched me and again raised his eyebrow.

 

Directly and almost automatically I raised my hand behind my neck, moved my legs apart and checked that my elbows pointed out at my sides.

 

I felt my nakedness in my skin.

 

In the same time as I thought that this felt right and question my own behavior in a: “My God what am I doing?”

 

This position, the order position, was my plain way to show him (and myself) that he was now my Master, for the night. In being my Master he also had the full responsibility for my ordered actions. I didn’t even know his name.

 

But it also felt so right and completely natural.

 

I followed my feelings or a secret voice inside me and if it was all wrong then I could defend it in front of

myself. In same way it was as if my body on its on initiative obeyed his voice. Perhaps Mats’s training of it had planted in reaction that was trigged by a manly voice.

 

I thought of my behavior as if from a mature woman that had been slave all her life, but I had been slave girl not more then four months and seen it developed in step, from an ordinary girl to an obedient and submissive slave girl.

 

Almost as if he could read my thoughts that I didn’t know his name he asked:

 

- You know how to address me?

 

- Yes Master!

 

My answered was clear and distinct. I looked him in his eyes as I was taugh to do.

 

Whole my being knew it. Yes, I have accepted him as my Master, it’s a case of kill or cure. I didn’t really know if it was developed from my vulnerable situation (in my longing for Mats) or something else inside of me. I hoped for it to be my heart that was guiding me.

 

- In refrigerator (icebox) there are some beers. Fetch one for me! You may have one yourself, if you like.

 

It felt madly how easy I fell into the role and now in front of a stranger. But it also tickled every nerve in my body to act like naked slave-girl in front of the fully clothed man.

 

- Yes Master!

 

It felt nice to acknowledge his order and I went quickly out to the kitchen knowing that Mats had expected of me to run (like Anna) but I thought it was enough, in a half-way, to walk quickly. I noticed that there were not any curtains in the kitchen and I could see other windows in the block of flats outside. I was naked and I felt it if I didn’t cared. I was ordered to do this and I opened the door to the refrigerator and took one beer.

 

I remember Mats voice saying that a slave girl don’t eat when her Master does it, she is standing beside of him and waiting on him.

 

I returned to him (now quicker, as in a compromise between walk and run) with his beer. He sat in one of the leather easy chairs and I kneeled and handed him the can. He took it, opened it and started to drink.

 

When kneeling at his feet I felt a hit of humiliation through my body, but it didn’t last for long.

 

In the same second that he opened it with its “phtss” I felt that I should have done that for him. Mats had never let such a mistake pass without of criticism.

 

Was I on the road to be a poorer slave girl? 

 

A completely new and unfamiliar thought run up in my head: “I hope that my new Master will train me to be a super-slave-girl for him!”

 

I the same moment I felt that my heart had decided for me to stay with this new Master – if he wanted me of course. And if Mats still was refusing to take me back.

 

I was worry. Maybe I was for him just a one-night-stand?

Am I a momentary play-thing for men?

What if he already had a woman?

 

I felt despondency rise inside me. Why was I always forsaken when I thought I had found the right man?

 

A flashing sick thought rose up in my mind: “If his woman accepted it I could be his slave-girl anyway!”

 

No, of course not! Silly me!

 

 

 

 

//

 

If You are interest in next parts, please say so.

Translating is a hard work and as a woman I’m driven by encouragement.

I thank all those nice people who had taken their time to feed me.

/Cecilita

 

 

Cecilita