My name is Joyce, I'm 48 years old, and reside in a rural area of Central Pennsylvania and work as an assistant principal at a high school in a nearby city with a population of around 30,000. I've been divorced for six years and have two daughters both married.

I regard myself as being extremely appealing sexually and in excellent physical condition for my age. My friends tell me I don't look like I'm over 40.I'm 5'8", 120 pounds, a brunette with hazel eyes and measurements of 36-24-36. I'm very much an egomaniac about my body but still my sex life is limited. I have a male friend who lives in Ontario(Canada) and travels to the area three or four times a year on business. When he does he stays at my house and we are sexually intimate. Other than that I rely on a vibrator to obtain my sexual gratification.

I'm considered haughty and overbearing by both the faculty and students at the school I work at. My chief responsibility is disciplining students and to a lesser degree faculty. Its easy enough enforcing the dress code for students but not so easy when you have to tell some 26 year old music teacher and wannabe American Idol contestant that her skirt is too short. For this reason I'm not the most popular lady in town. Call me elitist but I refuse to date any male who is not of professional stature such as a lawyer or doctor but I haven't had many offers either. At the fitness center where I work out I'm regularly propositioned by male jerks and I derive pleasure from turning them down.

One of my leisure pursuits is AOL. I've been a subscriber for at least ten years. In addition to using the internet to further my intellectual pursuits I regularly engage in chat rooms such as "Pennsylvania Over 40" but have always avoided the sexually explicit ones.

One day for a reason that still escapes my memory I came upon a bondage website and pictures of nude or semi-nude females being restrained and tortured or otherwise humiliated. It resulted in immediate arousal so I explored further. My bondage consciousness at that time was nil. I don't ever recall my ex or my Canadian lover ever mentioning it. The closest I came to thinking about bondage was that I occasionally fantasized about taking some of the problem students, especially the sluttish females, and tying them to a chair for the entire day.

In the course of exploring bondage I learned quite a lot mainly that there are different forms of bondage. Some women enjoy being restrained and used sexually, others enjoy pain, others enjoy being dominated with varying degrees of restraint, sex and pain. It set me to thinking that I might enjoy being forced to be submissive to a male. I have a very authoritarian personality and I read somewhere that such females sometimes harbor a desire for role reversal.

Finally I summoned enough determination to surf in bondage chat rooms but not before creating a special screen name just for that purpose. My profile only stated I was a female from Pennsylvania. I didn't want to chance any of my regular "roomies" spotting my primary screen name in such a room.

The first bondage chat room I entered taught me a lesson. My Instant Message screen was inundated with IM's from males so I kept it turned off. If I spotted someone in the chat room whose profile interested me I would IM him. Once such person was Tom a 40 year old accountant from Delaware County, Pennsylvania in metro Philly and about a 2 hour drive. At the time he seemed pretty level headed. He stated his interest was in training novice female subs. We started chatting regularly but I suspected it would be quite awhile before I was ready to meet a dom in person.

The later came much sooner than I expected. I got up the nerve to call him after Caller ID blocking my cell phone. I'm a great believer in that you can form a good opinion of someone's character just by hearing the persons voice even if you've never met them. In this case Tom had sent me his pic even though I refused to send one of me. My favorable opinion of him was confirmed after talking to him. He was quite eager to meet which I can understand. I suggested we meet somewhere in between and possibly have a motel session. Tom stated that motel room sessions are invariably too restrictive and that he had a modestly equipped dungeon in his basement.

He made a compromise offer of sorts. We would meet at a shopping mall food court near his home and talk in person. If I was not completely certain that I wished to continue we would part on good terms otherwise I'd follow him to his house. We had been chatting for nearly three weeks and the urge to have a real bondage session was growing although I still wasn't certain what form I was most attracted to.

One chilly Sunday morning in November at 7:00 I hunkered into my SUV and began the drive to Delaware County having taken off Monday as a personal leave day. I wore the shortest black skirt I could find, a tight white pullover sweater and low cut boots in accord with Tom's expressed wishes. Since we'd be meeting at 10:00 in a far away suburban mall I wasn't really concerned whether I looked like a hooker or not. I also brought along my black leather coat mainly in case I broke down-I wasn't much for coats.

When I pulled into the mall parking lot Tom was waiting for me in his Land Rover. He looked every bit like I envisioned he would and that was considerably older than 40 with dark brown eyes and hair. At 5'11 and about 190 pounds I didn't regard him as obese but he had the common male beer belly and probably hadn't been in a gym for years. Suffice to say that in my submissive role I wasn't inclined to offend his male ego at this stage. We went into the food court and sat in a booth sipping coffee. Tom was rather vague on what he had planned for me other than to say that his sessions were tailored to the tolerance levels of the sub. He emphasized that I was free to leave anytime and suggested I make a "safe" call to a friend telling the person where I'd be. I told him I would but it was a bluff as I hadn't confided my intentions to anyone.

After about twenty minutes of chat I told him I was ready to begin a session. He lived only about five minutes from the mall and I had no difficulty following him there. It was a rather modest split level home on a heavily populated side street. I followed him into the house and he showed me to the bedroom. My first orders were to strip completely naked which surprised me as I expected to be naked but in boots. I was given three minutes to complete undressing during which time Tom stood outside the bedroom door. At the end of precisely that time I was to be standing naked and at attention. The door was closed but not shut during this period.

It probably only took me two minutes to undress so I was standing at rigid attention for nearly a minute when the door opened and Tom entered. He was shirtless, wearing jeans and a ski mask. Initially I found this quite unsettling as I like to be able to observe a persons facial language but I knew I had little choice in the matter.

Next Tom attached a thick collar around my neck buckling it into place. It wasn't a typical pet collar it was black leather and close to the size of the cervical collars the EMTs use. It had a ring in the front. Tom then proceeded to set forth some of the rules for the session:

-I was considered property and my sole purpose was to provide for his pleasure. Any pleasure I received was merely incidental.

-I was required to address him as "Sir" and could not speak unprompted without asking permission first.

-Most of his "trainees" as he termed them had one goal-to be quickly fucked and climaxed. With Tom being allowed to climax was a privilege that had to be earned and that subs who climaxed without permission were punished severely.

-The length of my confinement would depend on my progress. This was the first hint he gave that I was not free to leave at anytime but I accepted it for the time being.

-I would be subjected to various forms of corporal punishment , restraint and sexual contact. He assured me that he was experienced in these matters, would keep within reasonable limits and that his safety record was unblemished.

Tom next proceeded to examine and fondle my anatomy such as pinching my nipples and fingering my snatch. He complimented me on my figure and my copious lubrication and I took him to be sincere. I then was interrogated as to the intimate details of my sexual preferences especially with my Canadian lover. Although somewhat embarrassing I gave honest answers and had no difficulty reflexively addressing him as "Sir". Perhaps this is because in my capacity as Asst. Principal I require my student disciplinary charges, whether male or female, to address me as "Maam". Those who don't have extra days added to their detention periods.

Next Tom ordered me to undergo some leashing exercises. A leash was attached to my collar and I was required to crawl about the house on my hands and knees and make barking sounds like a dog. Tom carried a flogger in his hand and indicated that if I didn't make authentic enough sounds I would feel the lash. When he gave the command I had to stop and sit on my knees and paw with my hands like a little doggie. Tom sensed that I found this quite degrading .He was quick to point out all his subs were required to perform this exercise and that in no way did he consider me a dog. I was quite relieved to finish the exercise without receiving a lash.