I barely got any sleep later that night. All my mind was thinking about was Mistress Ashley— standing over me as I’m tied up, rendered helpless with nowhere to go. Her 36DD breasts glistening in her sweat, her pit stains completely taking over her sports bra. It was too much to handle, resulting in a night of furious masturbation— all to the thought of what was in store for me. 

As I finished my second orgasm of the night, I eventually tired out after a joint that I had packed earlier in the night. I was in a beautiful Airbnb in Downtown Seattle, and it featured a breathtaking view of the city’s skyline. I sat out on the porch, the calm breeze complimenting a gorgeous 68° night as I smoked my roll.

It tasted amazing. Seattle has amazing (and cheap) weed.

I was happy that I had finally taken a step for myself to do something spontaneous and meaningful. It was more to me than just a fantasy being fulfilled— I wanted to discover more about myself in the process. It was time to venture out and see what I truly wanted sexually, and there was no one better to take this journey with than someone like Mistress Ashley. 

I laid my head on my pillow, as my mind slowly wondered off into the night while soft instrumental music played in the background. Rain started to glaze over the window, serving as the last sound I would hear until next day’s adventure. 

***

The morning came, as I was greeted with an unpleasant ray of sunshine piercing my eyelids. I went on my phone for a little bit after waking up, and eventually stumbled out of bed. I had only gotten five hours of sleep, but that’s all I needed to feel ready for the day. I showered, and put on my freshest fit for a stroll down the street to get some breakfast before my adventures later that day. 

It was about noon by the time I got back to the apartment, and my nerves were reaching a new high. For something that I was so hellbent on doing, I actually started to get scared— not for my safety, but I was about to be at the mercy of a professional dominatrix for five hours straight. And it wasn’t a cheap session, either. Mistress Ashley was the best of the best, so naturally her rates were high. It was a whole ordeal just to plan the trip— finding flights, requesting off from work, and finding an Airbnb close enough to Mistress Ashley’s personal dungeon. 

There was a lot riding on this session, and I thought to myself that I had potentially bitten off more than I could chew. I even briefly thought about cancelling the session all together and taking the loss on all the money I spent. 

Then my phone rang. 

I hurried over to the table to check the notification— it was a WhatsApp message from Mistress Ashley. My hands were shaking as I picked up my phone and read the message. Enclosed in the message was a friendly reminder of our scheduled time, the address to her dungeon, directions on parking (luckily I wasn’t driving), and an attachment at the very bottom. 

It was a picture of her, standing in her home gym with a chair and duct tape in the very center of the room. She was wearing light blue Lululemon workout attire, with leggings that made her huge ass look even more enormous. Her mountainous breasts were covered in a sports bra of the same color, her left arm slightly raised to reveal her unshaven underarm. I was mesmerized. 

When 12:30 rolled around, I called my Uber to the address she had sent me, and I was on my way to meet my destiny. A sense of confidence grew over me, and I felt like I was ready for absolutely anything.