"Strip!"

The word took her by surprise as she came through the door. Her lover took a step back away from her and repeated the demand. She looked back at him blankly, hearing, but not totally understanding.

"I know you heard me, honey. Take your clothes off, now."

"But"...... The sound had barely left he lips when he spun her around and deftly, with one hand, lifted her skirt.

"What are you doing?" was all she could manage as he led her to the recliner and placed her face down over his lap.

"We obviously need to come to some sort of understanding during your visit this weekend", he said as he pulled her panties down to her knees.

"During your time here, you will be available to me, when and however I choose."

The words came to her ears at the same time she felt his hand strike her ass. His mark was left not only on the tender flesh; it seared through her crotch to her brain.

Not knowing what to think or how to react, she tried what had always worked in the past. Tears.

"Now, now. You know that those aren't real", he said as his hand now smoothed the reddened flesh. "We've talked about this before. Your wish to take a break from being in control of everything.A chance to let go. You obviously thought I didn't understand. But I do know what you've wanted."

She considered his words and couldn't help the involuntary motion of her hips.

"There will be none of that, my sweet," he whispered. "Your pleasure will come at my direction this time, when and how I direct."

His hand once again found its mark, alternating between the sharp smacks of a tormentor and the soothing caress of a lover. She could feel herself reacting to his touch. Finding the feeling that she had longed for.Someone to make the decisions, to lead the way.

The spanking stopped abruptly, she shuddered as his touch left her. There was a pause that was filled with the promise of things to come, if she could only bring herself to accept what lie ahead. Her mind reeled, trying to figure out what her next step should be.

What did he want? Afraid to break the spell of the moment she chose to lie still, waiting for his words to guide her.

"Please stand", he said.

She awkwardly tried to find her feet as she moved from his lap. She began to reach for the silk underwear that hampered her movement.

"No".

The directness of his words stopped her hands and they came to rest by her side.

"You may remove them and the rest of your clothing" he said as he headed toward the kitchen. "You must be famished after your drive. You can put your things in the bedroom. Dinner will be ready in a minute."

The sound of his voice trailed off as he left the room. She stood in the center of the living room. For the first time she noticed the sultry jazz playing on stereo, the candles that had been placed around the room.

"This was not a random act on his part", she thought.

Her hands reached tentatively for the buttons of her sweater, knowing that as each one came undone, she was opening a door to the unknown.

The sweater fell silently at her feet.

After putting her things in the bedroom, she headed to the bathroom. Refuge.A moment to think. She turned on the water and sat on the toilet, the cold plastic of the seat shocking her for an instant.

"We had talked about this sort of thing", she thought to herself as she considered what had just happened in the living room. But that's exactly what she thought it had been. Talk, and nothing more. But this? Actually letting someone else take control of, control of what? Well of her, which was something different, wasn't it?

While it might have been something different, the thought occurred to her that it was certainly something that had gotten her attention. Something that she had quite frankly (if not with a little embarrassment) enjoyed quite a bit. Still undecided about what to do next, she stood, noticing her reflection in the mirror on the door. Her nipples told her the truth that her mind was even now wrestling with. They stood out, firm and hard, the skin around them puckered. Her hand traveled slowly to her breast, and a shudder ran through her body as she squeezed the nipple. The sensation weakened her, and she realized that she wanted, no, needed the hand squeezing her nipple to be HIS hand. It was that hand she wanted to bring her the pleasure she craved. A pleasure mixed with the tantalizing sensation discomfort. Something a little rougher. Her other lovers had always been so gentle. Perhaps it was her diminutive size that brought that out in men. She had no guess as to why other men she'd been with had always brought her to orgasm with a light touch. Inside, her mind had screamed out for them to not be so dainty. To take her, use her. "That was alright, wasn't it", she wondered.

"My God, making love was one thing", she thought, and it did have its place, "but sometimes a girl just wants to get fucked." The word brought redness to her cheeks as it filled her mind with the picture, the picture of what might just happen this weekend. "It's funny", she thought. "I have the power to decide whether or not I want to be submissive, if only for a night." It was then that she realized the gift her lover was to give to her, and she turned, twisted the water spigot closed, and reached for the door to meet the man she loved.

He was seated at the table. Not eating, just contemplating the glass of Merlot that he held in his hand. As she approached him, he turned and stood to pull out the chair to his right, offering her the chair.

"You are so beautiful", he said, as she sat. The rough fabric of the chair felt prickly on her bare skin.

"Wine?" he asked, not waiting for her response but pouring the ruby liquid into her glass. He then busied himself around the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the meal.

As he served, she looked at him, knowing that she loved him and that she would do anything that he asked. She felt a longing that she hadn't known existed. He came around her, to place the dish he had prepared on her plate. He then set the platter on the table and rested his hands on her naked shoulders.

"Are you cold?" he asked, almost a whisper as his lips brushed her ear.

She could feel the warmth of his breath as his tongue began to fondle the lobe of her ear. She barely noticed his right hand leave her shoulder, moving down, seeking out the nipple she had moments ago been squeezing. He took up the flesh of her breast between his thumb and forefinger and pressed. As he pressed, she could once again feel herself nearly melting.

"You can tell me to stop at anytime, and the game will be over", he whispered, as his hand continued to fondle her breast and nipple. At times pinching, but then a soft caress. The sensations were enough to drive her mad, she thought as she shifted in the chair in a vain attempt to find release.

She knew she was aroused. She was familiar with the feeling, but never had it been so intense. Perhaps it was the mystery, maybe the new-ness of the experience. She knew then that she wanted more. Wanted to take whatever this man wanted to give to her. To enjoy him, and herself to the fullest.

"Not hungry, my dear?" he asked, as a joke.

Any appetite for food that she might have had was long gone.

He returned to his chair. Picking up his glass, he offered a toast.

"To the mysteries of love", he said. And she raised her glass in silent agreement.