Teacher Finds a Master Ch. 01

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Emails.
6.8k words
4.39
136.4k
163

Part 1 of the 8 part series

Updated 08/30/2017
Created 01/09/2016
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Emails

Danny was surfing the net at a neighbour's house, trying to find something to relieve the boredom. Danny's parents had "volunteered him", to look after a neighbour's house while the guy was away. Even though he wasn't being paid, an eighteen year old appreciates every minute away from parents.

'What the hell!' he whooped.

Mr Johnson was a bachelor, and Danny found one of the reasons why. The man had an email account with women writing to him. Looking through the most recent emails, he figured that's where the guy was, visiting one of them. Danny started reading through the emails to discover how their interest was kept. The man seemed to talk down to them, and surprisingly they loved it. They called him sir, or even master.

'Damn! She is so sexy,' he murmured.

Some of the women sent photos, though only one included her face, whereas the others sensibly avoided identification. Of course they wanted to remain anonymous, after the filthy things they mentioned in emails.

Danny grabbed a bunch of tissues and fisted himself. It couldn't be avoided. A hard-on was throbbing from the things they mentioned, almost as much as the photos. He soon cum, and wiped up the mess. He made a point of disposing of the evidence in the kitchen wastebasket, with a mental note to empty it before leaving.

The last thing he wanted was Mr Johnson finding out he'd been exploring this secret world. The women seemed to be falling over themselves to have him talk dirty to them. Some of them were as crude as he was. It was a surprise to find that women could be so dirty minded. Now he was calmer, he noticed a pattern.

It wasn't just filth, but something else. He was telling them what to do. They wanted him to tell them what to do. One of them was asking advice, and not just in the bedroom. She wanted him to dominate her, and kept calling him master. That was the word for it. She wanted him to dominate her, and for him to be her master.

He followed her trail of emails, reading them more carefully. He was learning something new, something completely unexpected. Some of the terminology had to be looked up on the internet, especially the abbreviations. He concluded they were submissive, and Mr Johnson was a dominant male.

It seemed so obvious now. In the animal kingdom, males fought for dominance in the herd. What was that boring animal program he watched with his parents? A young male challenged the dominant male, and ended up carving out some young females to start a new herd.

Danny sat thinking about winning one of Mr Johnson's females. It would be fun getting them to do things. Of course, they wouldn't actually do anything. They would only pretend to obey, yet that was exciting enough. He had evidence of that.

He imagined having an older woman talking dirty to him. Just the idea of receiving filthy emails with pictures, was enough to give him a boner.

He patted his cock, and told it, 'Relax buddy, you've had your fun for today.'

He picked an email from the latest fan, and carefully read it.

***

'I've read your resume on the notice board, and was hoping you would consider me,' Miss Spanked.

'I'm sorry to be impatient, sir, but I am keen to find the right master. This is my first time contacting a potential master, though I have been a member of the club for some time. To start the with I include my details. If accepted, what would you demand of me?' Miss Spanked.

***

Danny read through the personal details, wondering if they were accurate. On the internet she could be anyone, even a man. He looked up on the internet what the figures she supplied meant. They were pretty obvious once explained. She had a nice figure, which meant large breasts. She was thirty-eight, but that didn't matter. In fact, the possibility of teasing an adult twenty years older, was more of a thrill.

He sent the two emails from Miss Spanked, to his lap top. He deleted the originals from Mr Johnson's computer, and from the delete folder. They had arrived while the man was away, so they wouldn't be missed.

He set up a new email address, and composed a reply.

'I accept you on a trial basis only. You will join my harem, if you pass. In the meantime you will respond to this more personal email address. I warn you, you may regret having a strict and demanding master. Do you wish to continue?'

The email wasn't exactly to the same quality as Mr Johnson's, but then the man had plenty of practice. He copied the rest of the emails to his lap top, to research some ideas.

'Wow!' he laughed, when the laptop pinged.

He clicked and chuckled at what he saw. 'They're damn quick, how in hell did they get this new address?'

The advert for penis enlargement was deleted.

'Well, I guess it'll come to nothing anyway,' he murmured.

He started reading through some of the old emails, finding them tedious. Some of the more recent ones had been hot, especially the ones with photos attached. It dawned on him that Mr Johnson had improved his technique over the months, and the women were responding to him more blatantly.

It was difficult to pin down what was different. A phrase or word used here and there seemed to make all the difference. He sighed heavily. It was all a waste of time. No one was going to respond to him. Especially not a mature woman. She would judge he was just a kid, and flip him off.

Another ping, and he clicked the email account. An email from Miss Spanked! He sat there for a moment wondering if he should continue.

'What does it matter if she finds me out. I don't know her, and she doesn't know me,' he laughed.

***

'Yes, master, thank you master for excepting me. I sincerely hope I can pass your test. After reading others comments in the forum, I believe you will be the master for me, and hope I can be all you want in a slave. Please test me, master. In anticipation, your dutiful slave.'

***

He hesitated replying. He imagined her impatiently waiting for a reply. Would she be calm or nervous? He glanced through Mr Johnson's emails, and found what he was looking for.

'Tell me what you are wearing, how you feel, and why. You are not my slave yet, therefore you are not entitled to call me master, so call me sir.'

She was a fast typist. The answer came back while he was looking through more progressive emails.

***

'Sorry, sir. Your potential slave will try not to impose herself upon you, and try her hardest not to disappoint you. I am dressed in jeans and t-shirt. I guess it's not what you would wish, but I didn't expect to be corresponding with you so quickly. Please order me to dress according to your wishes. I felt pleased to receive your email, yet now feel nervous. I've never tried this before, and I'm afraid of failure. I feel in need of a master, so hope you will accept me. Please test me, so I may call you master.'

***

Danny read through the email. There wasn't a clue as to her identity, and he feared she might be a man. The idea was weird. Still, he had nothing else better to do.

'Did you discover how demanding I can be from the notice board? Are you up to being my obedient slave? What clothes do you have that are suitable for a slave? If you really have studied the notice board, you will know what I demand of my slaves. Can you fulfil my stringent requirements?'

Danny sat back with arms folded. He was challenging her. Would she take the bait?

***

'Sir, your potential slave has read, and re-read, the comments of slaves on the club notice board. I imagined being your slave, and practised in my bedroom a slave pose, described by one of your slaves. I hadn't anticipated contacting you then, sir, so it was just a foolish fantasy. I bought an outfit described by one of your slaves. A short black dress, low cut, with red high heels, black stockings and suspenders. Your potential slave hopes you approve, sir. I promise to obey your commands, and report to you every day, sir. I sincerely hope I can fulfil your requirements as a slave. Please say you will take me as your slave, sir.'

***

Danny wondered if this would go anywhere. The emails with pictures were interesting but this didn't do anything for him.

'You say you have studied my requirements from what slaves have written on the notice board. Yet, you have written to me and continue to do so, while dressed in unacceptable clothing. You do not deserve to be my slave. You lack discipline, and thought for a master. Convince me I should start your training. Send me a picture with you bent over, jeans down, with a rule in your hand, spanking yourself. Be quick, or I will move on to a more suitable candidate.'

Danny figured he was pushing too quickly. Mr Johnson took his time before making big demands on a woman. If she was pissed off, so what? He was getting bored anyway. No answer pinged, so he figured the emails were enough for her. She didn't really want to get too involved. He started looking through the photos, and was again impressed with what Mr Johnson had got them to do.

'Bet it's another sales email. Wow! Naughty, Miss Spank,' he chortled.

An unsteady photo of a female bottom, clad in sensible cotton panties, was attached to the email. A ruler was pressing a cheek. Another photo, the same, except the ruler was lifted.

'Damn! Miss Spank!' he laughed.

She'd sent him a personal picture. It was real, he was sure of it. Probably.

The second picture was clearer. Not having seen a woman from this angle before it was difficult to tell how old she was. Her bottom looked huge as it was too close to the lens. He zoomed into the image. Wisps of pubic hair peeked out from the panty crotch.

He could make out she had a thin waist, and her bottom was a cute heart shape. She wasn't bad for thirty-eight. Why had she sent a photo so readily? Miss Spank! Was that it? Had he demanded what she wanted, a spanking? There were a couple of women Mr Johnson regularly told to spank themselves as a punishment. Of course, they might have told him they performed his demands, but had they?

Still. It was the thought that counted. He examined the photos more closely. They certainly weren't professional. There was a bedside clock in the background. No, a reflection in a mirror. Zooming in, he interpreted the position of the hands. Checking them with the email send time, he found they were more or less the same. Five minutes in it.

'Oh, Miss Spank! You're in the same time zone,' he chuckled.

There was nothing else to identify who it might be. He also realised he was getting hooked.

'Miss Spank, I am impressed by the speed of your response. I shall give you a second chance, no more. Usually I would demand that you spank yourself, with panties around your ankles. The clothing you are wearing, as you well know, is unsuitable. Disrobe, now. As long as you write emails to me this evening, you will remain naked. Send a photo, to show you have complied. I shall be attending to another potential slave for the next twenty minutes. In the meantime you will write about yourself, telling me your intimate thoughts, feelings, and desires. If I feel you have been forthright, and honest, you will have passed the test.'

He re-read his email and sent it. It was easy to go over it a hundred times and continuously improve it, so why bother. He got up to make a sandwich. Mr Johnson had left some food in the fridge, and he brought some from home. During the twenty minutes in the kitchen, he heard the laptop ping several times.

One of the pings was junk mail. The other three were from his new friend, Miss Spank.

He skimmed through the text, putting off looking at the attachments. Unable to resist, he opened the first one. It was of the same woman, in the same bedroom. He considered them for a moment, and decided they were real, not something found on the internet.

'Damn! Miss Spank, you are a beauty,' he laughed.

She was naked, as demanded. With each email a different angle, and pose was sent. All from the neck down. As much as he could tell, she fitted the description from the statistics already sent. Her large breasts weren't pert, but her figure was pretty good for a thirty-eight year old. It was certainly thrilling to receive photos of a mature woman, and his hard-on was proof of that.

The first email was long, summarising her fantasies. Nothing outrageous, though he was learning something new about women. He wasn't sure if she really meant she wanted to be restrained, and taken by a stranger. That sounded a bit dangerous, and was certainly unexpected. The other fantasies seemed tame in comparison. He would have to go back to that later.

The second one, summarised why she wanted a strong man as her master. Basically she wanted to hand over control of her life, rather than share it with someone. He didn't quite understand what she was getting at, and would have to re-read it slowly.

The third was basically pleading with him to take her on as a slave. Who was he to disappoint her. He could string it along for a while longer, to see what happened. She was bound to find out he had no experience of being a master. He had to admit, he didn't have much experience of women either. He shrugged his shoulders, and began to type.

'Miss Spank, your master is impressed by your honesty and openness. You may call me master. It is my opinion that you will make a fine slave, given time and training. Pay attention to your master's commands, and you will become a treasured, and cared for slave. Your master will spend precious time on your training, and for the moment only you, as I find you intriguing. First, slave will need a slave name. Then a collar. I am sure slave understands these requirements. Tomorrow is Saturday, so you will purchase a temporary dog collar from a pet shop. Specifications for your permanent collar will be given in the near future. You will put the collar on in the pet shop, discreetly if you wish, and take a photo of the collar around your neck. Make sure the store background is also in the photo. You will then wear it home, and take another photo to send to your master. So, to your name. You are now Slave Tittyanna. Your master names you this from an appreciation of slave's impressive breasts. No more for now, Tittyanna. Your master, John.'

It was getting late and there was a lot of research to do. He needed to read more of Mr Johnson's emails, and figure out how those women were kept on the hook. There was a nagging doubt that a grown woman would comply with a young guy's demands. He decided to prepare for tomorrow in case she carried out the collar order.

Another ping surprised him. Of course it was her.

***

'Master John, your slave, Tittyanna, thanks master from the depths of slave's heart and soul, for accepting this humble slave for training. Master's slave promises to pay attention, and obediently carry out all orders. Thank you master! Slave loves saying these words. They have been slave's fantasy for so long, and now my master has made slave's dreams come true. Till tomorrow, your slave will be dreaming of her master, and loves anticipating master's orders. With much love, Tittyanna.'

***

Danny didn't laugh this time. He had to take her seriously. What if she was a mad woman, and a stalker. Could she find him? He opened the attachment. It was a close up of her breasts. With a free hand, she held up a breast, as though offering it to him to kiss, or fondle. This must be in response to his compliment about her breasts, and consequently her name. They were impressive.

He had a lot to think about. From the speed which she responded, and the content, he was getting to know her. Her earnestness was sucking him into something. Being her master obviously, though something more than that. Was that possible? Could anyone be more than a master, where the slave gave herself completely to him. That seemed an ultimate sacrifice, unless he was ignorant of relationships, which he was ready to admit.

Tomorrow would bring more photos and more challenges. He looked at the photos again. They were all of the same person, in the same bedroom. He would zoom in on them tomorrow, and see what he could learn about her.

Next morning Danny woke up late. Fortunately the laptop hadn't fallen off the bed and smashed. He had breakfast, digesting cereal as well as the emails read last night.

He fired up the laptop, hoping there would be an email from Miss Spank, though not holding out much hope. A bit of fun was had, and this morning she would sober up, dismissing last nights' madness.

'Wow! Naughty Miss Spank,' he laughed.

***

'Master John, thank you for collaring and naming your slave. Your slave now feels she has a master, and is ready to be mastered. As ordered, your slave has obeyed, by sending attached photos. Your slave looks forward so much to her training. Love, from your slave, Tittyanna.'

***

He opened the image, and sat back to admire it. An ordinary dog collar was buckled around her neck, with a bone shaped metal tag dangling from it. Her slave name was embossed upon the tag. This couldn't be something she found on the internet. In the background was a fuzzy image of a pet shop. He could see she was wearing the low cut black dress mentioned in an earlier email.

Damn! She had actually carried out his order. His interest soared. The next email from her was quickly read.

***

'Master John, your slave hopes she has satisfied her master. Another picture is attached. Your devoted slave awaits master's next order, Tittyanna.'

***

Danny opened the second attachment, to find her wearing the same collar, this time in her bedroom. Her shoulders were visible, and it looked as though she were naked. He looked at the times of the emails, to realise she must have been waiting for the store to open, bought the collar, then rushed home to send the second email. Sitting back, he again wondered if she was a mad woman, and if she was dangerous.

With a shrug of his shoulders, meaning who cares, he sent an email.

'Slave Tittyanna, you have made a good start toward slave training. Obedience is a crucial attribute in a slave. As soon as the preliminary training is over, your master will continue with slave's more personal and intimate training. Your master requires a photo of his slave in the pose mentioned in a previous email. If it is not acceptable, due to physical lack of ability, another pose will be chosen for slave. Remember, slave must be obedient to master at all times, or suffer a spanking. Your master, John.'

While preparing coffee he heard the familiar ping, announcing the arrival of yet another email.

The lap top was on the kitchen table, so he sat with a coffee in one hand, and the keyboard under the other. The attachment was opened to find his slave sitting on the bedroom floor. Long hair hung down obscuring her face, because her head was bowed. Her chest was pushed out, looking as though she were trying to hold her breasts up. They weren't a young woman's pert breasts, though impressive nevertheless. She was squatting on her feet, with thighs spread. Hands were palm upward, resting on her knees. This wasn't the most flattering pose for her, as her belly wasn't so flat anymore. Still, she was an attractive and shapely woman.

The camera must have been low down, as her crotch was just visible. Her body was naked, but her crotch was hairy. He would have to do something about that.

'Slave Tittyanna, your master is displeased with his slave. Surely slave should be aware, a slave does not have pubic hair. If slave does not have a razor, go out to purchase one, immediately. Training will not resume until a photo of slaves denuded sex has been received. Slave has been warned. A punishment will be administered to the bad slave, when and if training resumes.'

***

'Master John, please forgive your slave! Attached are photos of your repentant slave, trying hard to please her master. Please continue slave's training, please master. Slave will obediently adhere to master's wishes, and follow instructions for whatever punishment master sees fitting for a foolish slave. Dutifully awaiting masters email in desperate hope, Tittyanna.'

12