MrWade/mrwade42
                                    Master Wade
                      MRWADE= Ashley Presents Herself, Part One
                  The small imitation bug landed softly on the calm surface, and I
                    watched as the rings from its slight splash circled outward
                  noiselessly. When they had almost ceased, I tugged gently on the
                    line, making the bug dance jerkily, as if struggling to free
                  itself from the surface film. There was a beaver swimming across
                   the lake to my left, his brown head and upper body hidden from
                     time to time by the early morning mist as it rose from the
                                           warming water.
                    I saw the fish long before he reached the top of the water,
                  zooming up vertically beneath the lure as if shot from a cannon.
                 He broke the surface violently, his mouth wide open, enhaling the
                 bug and flipping and twisting his body in the air before plunging
                     back into the depths. When he had disappeared from view I
                   gathered in the slack in the fly line, and holding it tightly
                    against the rod with my forefinger, snapped my wrist upward,
                  setting the hook in the jaw of the unsuspecting fish. It had not
                   appeared to be an especially large fish, but as he turned and
                  swam toward the middle of the lake the rod was pulled around by
                   the force of his escape and the line blistered my finger as it
                                      was torn from the reel.
                  His fight was challenging and exciting, but in the end no match
                  for the skills of his captor. As I removed the hook and held him
                   by his lower lip I was amazed at the power he had shown in his
                   small body and the fight he had put up. Lowering him back into
                 the clear water, I smiled as he shook his tail and swam off as if
                  the entire battle of self preservation had only been a momentary
                                 interruption in a very normal day.
                  I hooked the lure into the cork handle and tightened up the line
                  before turning to start the outboard. I could leave now. He had
                   been the only fish in hours of casting, but he was enough. The
                  sun was rising higher now, the wind beginning to pick up, and I
                                         had driving to do.
                      In the summer months, especially before I was to have an
                  encounter with a submissive, I often spent such mornings at the
                  lake. The serene beauty which surrounded me and the anticipation
                   which accompanied each cast I made seemed to tune my mind and
                    condition it, preparing it and me for what was to take place
                               later in much different surroundings.
                 My trip on this day would be to what the owners claimed to be the
                   oldest continuously occupied frame plantation dwelling in the
                 state. It had been converted into a Bed and Breakfast Inn several
                 years prior to my first visit there, and the owners had carefully
                   and beautifully restored the main house as well as the former
                     slave cabins scattered around the property into tastefully
                                   decorated lodgings for guests.
                  I had reserved the cabin called Sanco Pansy, named after a slave
                  who had chosen to continue to live on the plantation even after
                  his emancipation. The beamed celings and large fireplace made a
                  most romantic setting which was enhanced by the excellent stereo
                  and hot tub which were the only modern conveniences to conflict
                                with the ageless warmth of the room.
                   The cabin was nestled in a grove of old oaks and maples off to
                    the left of the main house, just out of sight, and the other
                    cabins and outbuildings were still further along the winding
                       gravel driveway which wound around the old plantation.
                   To retire to such a setting after a morning on the lake was in
                    itself a most enjoyable experience, one which would only be
                  enhanced by the delicious meal served family style in the large
                    dining room in the main house. To add to that the marvelous
                     opportunity of spending time with Ashley, one of the most
                 beautiful and exciting hungrily submissive women I've ever known,
                            made it an experience I would never forget.

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                  I drove straight from the lake to the old plantation, timing my
                 arrival so that I could leisurely prepare myself for Ashley. As I
                 soaked in the tub I thought of the lovely woman who would in just
                        a few hours be presenting herself to me, her MASTER.
                   I had first met Ashley at a dance given annually in a near-by
                   city as a fund-raiser for a charity to which I was a frequent
                  contributor. She was the lead singer in the band which provided
                  the evening's entertainment, and her talents were the highlight
                   of their contribution. She was a beautiful woman in her middle
                 twenties, a woman who was proud of her body and her sexuality and
                    who used both of them to compliment her excellent voice and
                 carefully choreographed and fluidly performed movements on stage.
                  As often happens, I was drawn to her from the start, led by that
                     intuition which all real MASTER's have for women with her
                     hungers. In spite of the excellent view I had of her long
                   curvaceous legs and the tempting and delightful beauty of her
                  full breasts, I found myself drawn to her eyes as she sang. They
                  held the secrets of her soul, and as I danced with my partner's
                  back to the stage, Ashley's eyes met mine in that way which only
                    those who have experienced can understand or appreciate. She
                  continued to sing, and I continued to dance, and the band played
                   on...but from that moment on two strangers in the room were no
                  longer strangers, but knew deep inside that they knew each other
                  well and that they would know each other even better before all
                                         was said and done.
                   We never spoke that night at the dance, Ashley and I, and two
                   days passed before I was able to learn her name and where she
                   worked. Our conversation the phone that day is one I will long
                                             remember.
                  "Ashley...I hope you don't mind me calling you at work. I was at
                  the dance night before last, and you made quite an impression on
                              me", I said, upon reaching her at last.
                 "I know who you are, and I'm glad you called...I knew you would",
                                            she replied.
                 "I danced quite a bit just in front of the stage...I was with the
                                    blonde in the black dress.."
                    "Yes, I know", she interrupted, "I really did know you would
                           call. I could feel it when you looked at me."
                     "And you know also, Ashley, that as much as I enjoyed your
                  musicianship, that it is not the reason for my call, dont' you?"
                           "Yes!" Her breathing was becoming obvious now.
                     "You have known men like me before, have you not, Ashley?"
                                  "Yes." She paused. "Yes, once."
                  "Yes, and that man knew and understood you in ways that no other
                                 man ever has, didn't he, Ashley?"
                                        "Yes..yes, he did."
                       "Why were you so sure that I would call you, Ashley?"
                    "You're...you're like he was. You're a stranger, but yet, we
                  aren't strangers...you know me already, don't you? Just like he
                                               did."
                                        "Yes, Ashley, I do."
                      "When can we meet? Where shall I meet you?", she asked.
                  "Tonight, the restuarant in the square. Eight o'clock. You will
                   wear a short dress, high heels, ear-rings, and red lipstick."
                              "Tonight..yes..I won't disappoint you."
                              "I'm sure of that, Ashley...very sure."
                   I toweled myself off and slid the black briefs up into place.
                 Ashley had certainly been no disappointment that first night, and
                      I knew as I continued dressing that she would never be a
                  disappointment to any man who knew the hungers and desires that
                  lived so deeply within her and who was capable of feeding them.
                                      Continued in Part Two...
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