A Suitable Selection

Part 1: Meeting

He was 48 and suddenly single. He had known their marriage was increasingly unhappy but he thought there was still love there. He didn’t realise until the lawyers were involved just how far he and his wife had drifted apart, and by then it was too late. On the positive side there was little acrimony and the financial arrangements had been amenable and fair. Even the kids had seemed relatively untraumatised.

Sex was at the heart of the split, or so he assumed, as it was the only thing they had ever seemed to argue about. Perhaps it was the presence of strangers, their lawyers, that had precluded her ever really saying why she wanted a divorce other than “Things were not working out”, but that was really just more evidence for it being sex. She never wanted to discuss sex and certainly didn’t regard his ‘needs’ as being any concern of hers. Rather than go looking outside of marriage for the submissive partner he sought, he had persevered with cajoling and setting expectations of her. No matter how far he had managed to push her, ultimately she wasn’t a submissive and proved it by taking charge and divorcing him.

He had taken stock of his situation and had found himself in fairly good shape. Whilst she had retained the family home he had claimed, then sold, their summerhouse and had bought a luxury villa unit in the city. She had kept the family sedan, he his Porsche, and they had sold the four-wheel drive and split the proceeds. They both had high profile, well paying jobs and his contribution towards the kids was minimal with one already working and the other at university. Yes he was perhaps a little old to be starting out in the dating game again, but even there he was lucky. He had always looked after himself physically, and was blessed with good genes that allowed him to pass easily for someone ten years his junior. He could even take a positive stance and say that few men had the opportunity to start anew. Most were comfortable (actually he was really thinking ‘trapped’) in a marriage with a woman who may have been compatible twenty years earlier, but probably had not changed along the same lines as their partner.

There was ample opportunity to meet women at his work. Indeed there was a ratio of four women for every man at his company. He was, as one of the Vice-President’s, senior enough that few women were his equals, with none his superiors. Equals he dismissed as potential sexual partners as, although work might be a hunting ground for women, he really didn’t want to jeopardise his position or chances for final advancement. This generally left women who were younger than him or those without too much drive, ambition, or education. Not ones he would normally have considered, but new circumstances demanded new thinking. Besides he wanted a woman he could dominate and train - a younger or less complicated woman might well fit the bill.

The first problem he faced was working out an approach. Generally it was not considered good form to invite a woman out to dinner and then casually ask over dessert whether she’d mind being tied up and whipped. The standard approach was to seduce a woman and, like he had with his wife, push to see how far he could get them to go. The obvious problem here was that this approach was way too time consuming, nor could he afford a reputation at work as someone who slept with a lot of women, or was into kinky sex. He was considering ways to meet women away from work when the solution presented itself in an unexpected way.

There had been a rush on at the office, and over a period of a week tempers were a little frayed. He had found himself having to personally chase down paperwork in other departments and was not impressed with how some of the accounts was being handled. One particular foray to recover some documents from a junior manager had ended with him, rather unfairly, carpeting the man’s secretary as the manager had been out of the office. Only later, when things were getting back to normal, did he realise he had been unreasonable - he should have been admonishing the manager. This turned him to thinking about the incident and in hindsight the secretary’s appearance and reaction.

She would have been late twenties early thirties. Well enough dressed, but not smart or expensively attired - chain store clothes rather than ‘labels’. He suspected her figure was good but not exceptional, smallish and slim rather than big and curvaceous. Her long, not quite blond, hair had been tied back with a nice clip and she had worn little make-up. He smiled to himself as he remembered he had had the presence of mind to note that she also wore no nail polish and more importantly no wedding ring. It was her behaviour at the time that now really focused his mind. She had not tried to defend herself, although she had had little blame in the incident, and had cast down her eyes and nodded unperceivably at his ranting. Whilst he couldn’t quite put his finger on why he felt it, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this woman might possibly have the type of personality he was looking for. Certainly she was pretty enough to warrant a follow up.

A few minutes on the company intra-net and he had her name as Linda Spooner, thirty-one, single, and a valued, if not outstanding, employee. A few phone calls established she lived alone in a nearby flat and no one seemed to recall ever hearing mention of or seeing a boyfriend. Again, she was attractive enough that he doubted she did not have the opportunity, so either she was very discreet (which was an excellent attribute), or she choose to be single (perhaps a problem?). He decided that the best approach was not to really give her too many choices so he ordered some long stemmed red roses and had them delivered to her flat. He included a note of apology for his over reaction and, after including details, told her that he would be taking her to dinner the following night to complete the apology.

He half expected all through the following day a polite thankyou for the flowers, accompanied by a “sorry I can’t join you” in regard the dinner invitation. However by the end of the day he had received neither so at the appointed hour he found himself outside her flat. He had made two reservations, one at an expensive up market restaurant the other at his yacht club. They both served excellent food and whilst the restaurant had very formal dress requirements and oozed class the yacht club had less formal requirements, although it was still rather exclusive with outstanding views of the water. Indeed, whilst he rarely sailed these days he kept up his membership of the “Royal” yacht club just for the prestige. Depending on what he found inside her flat, he would call and cancel one of the reservations.

She answered the door dressed as for work and invited him in. She seemed ill at ease and then rather obviously gathered herself and launched into what he was sure was a rehearsed speech.

“I’m very sorry Mr. Hawks I should have let you know before you took the trouble to come over but I really can’t see myself going out tonight. I truly appreciate the roses, which were lovely, but it was unnecessary, and I feel you’ve done more than enough for what was after all a rather minor indiscretion on your part.”

“Thankyou Linda, but please let me be the judge of how minor my breech of manners was. For a start my name is Paul and I won’t hear of you not letting me buy us dinner. To be fair I haven’t really given you much information to prepare on, but if you are willing to let me make a few suggestions I suspect you’ll have a great time.”

She hesitated then whispered, “…well I suppose… I’m sorry but I’m not really ready.”

“Fine Linda, my first suggestion is this. Let me make us a drink while you change. Nothing fancy, jeans, blouse, and runners will suit what I have in mind.” He slipped off his jacket and tie. “Casual O.K.?”

She hesitated then seemed to relent seconds before a look of panic overtook her face. “A drink! I don’t really have anything to drink. I’ve a cask of white wine in the refrigerator?”

“Excellent! Point me in the direction of the glasses and I’ll pour the wine while you change.”

She was back quickly and had changed into the suggested jeans and blouse. Her hair was released from its clip and had been brushed out to hang loosely about her shoulders. She didn’t wear enough make-up for his taste, but was never the less pretty. If she were to also do more with her hair and clothes she might even cross the line into seriously attractive. Now in jeans he was able to observe that her figure was rather good. Flat stomach, tight rounded ass and possibly ‘B/C?’ cup breasts. On balance a very desirable woman - if not obviously so. He again wondered at her continued single status but as he didn’t have any clues or background on which to speculate, he put it aside and concentrated on the evening.

They finished their glass of wine and he drove her to the Yacht Club. She made no comment about the Porsche or the dinner venue although he did catch her several times looking about with wide eyed amazement. It certainly fed his male ego to be the sophisticate showing an innocent the high life. They tended to talk mainly work over the meal but he did learn she was an avid reader and her taste ranged over a wide area, anything from horror to science fiction to romance. She also liked the cinema and for sport played a little golf. He poured on the charm, and found her receptive to flattery and attention. He worked hard to break down the boss / worker barrier and was able to convey that, for him at least, the evening was more than a work apology. In all the evening went well and he had no trouble arranging another meal and the theatre for the coming Saturday night. Their goodnight kiss was a little awkward but he was pleased that she had at least wanted to kiss him.

***

For the Saturday night she wore the obligatory ‘little black dress’ but once again didn’t quite shine as she might. He determined that she had no real idea, or was it desire, to make the most of what she had, and he made a mental note to educate her in her appearance. He decided he needed to speed up the seduction so greeted her with a deep kiss and held her softly but close. She was a little hesitant at first in regard the physical, but soon relaxed enough that they could hold hands or walk with their arms about each other’s waist naturally. Walking along the river precinct after the theatre, they paused often to kiss and although her eyes were often shy and shielded she was eager to take his tongue into her mouth or offer her tongue to him.

Later at her flat, they laughed, drank coffee, and petted on the couch. He stroked her face and dropped the tone of his voice. “I like you Linda and, as I don’t want to rush things, I just want to say, for the record, I want you. Perhaps you need more time to trust me, and I understand that, just don’t take my lack of attempts to rush you into the nearest bed as a lack of interest O.K.?”

“That’s unfair. How can a girl just allow a man to overwhelm her defences if he doesn’t try?”

He stroked the top slopes of her breasts with the back of his hand and as her head dropped to look, he moved his hand up and cupped her chin bringing her eyes up to meet his. “We could of course stop playing games Sweet. Come to bed with me Linda – now.”

She said nothing, but kissed him and the decision was made.

She was quite lovely nude and whilst not particularly imaginative in her lovemaking, was willing and enthusiastic. During the course of the evening he came twice and he brought her to three orgasms - each time with his mouth. She had responded by fellating him for his first orgasm whilst the second time he came inside her, in a comfortable missionary position. Both times she had insisted on using condoms, which he found both reassuring and somehow cute.

He chose to leave and go home in the early hours of the morning although she suggested quite strongly that he stay the night. He explained that, as much as he’d love too, he had work to do on the Sunday and besides had no change of clothes. He asked her to come to his apartment on the Sunday evening and to bring some clothes for work on the Monday so she could stay over. It was a little mind game to see how malleable she was but also to demonstrate who was in charge. She quietly accepted his suggestion and he headed home rather pleased after a touching romantic parting.

On the Sunday evening they made love and talked. He found out that she had been engaged and very much in love. The man, Shane, had pretty much controlled her life and had been the centre of her universe. When he had been killed in a car accident two years earlier she had allowed her life to drift and, until he had come along, had opted out of having any relationships. She had joked that he would never have seduced her so easily had she not been so starved of affection. He suspected she was unwittingly telling the truth.

He found himself in an unexpected position. Whilst he certainly didn’t love Linda, he did feel protective towards her, even very fond of her. He found himself examining his motivation and his intensions. She was prettier than he would have been willing to settle on for a sex slave (and being presentable would not hurt his career aspirations) and had many admirable traits. That said, she was also not that sophisticated or stimulating a conversationalist and although they had some things in common, books and golf, they lived different lives and had differing views on most things. The question that remained was also whether or not she was submissive in nature, or more precisely, sexually submissive. Without that there was no future, and now knowing her background he didn’t want to hurt her by rejecting their relationship after having her fall in love with him or at least having slept with him.

That night he had put all his effort into the foreplay and then, using a scarf, had tied her hands and drawn them over her head securing them to the bed head. She had said nothing, and her lovemaking was, or so he felt, even more passionate. Afterwards, as he untied her, he had asked her if she had minded.

“Not if it’s what you want.”

“It is what I want, need even, but that wasn’t the question. Do you mind? Does it make you feel uncomfortable or does it do the opposite and perhaps turn you on?”

“I… Shane used to like to tie me up. It seems I attract men who want to control me. I think I must like being controlled.”

“So it turns you on?”

“I guess… yes. You look relieved?”

“As I said sweet, I need to control my women. My wife didn’t like bondage and look how we ended up. I was rather hoping that you and I had a future together Linda, but I know my own nature and if you had objected…”

“Is tying me up all you want to do?”

He considered whether this was the right time or circumstance or whether he should take more time to bind her to him. Still if things weren’t going to work out, better they discover it now rather than later.

“Have you ever read the novel ‘The Story of O’?”

“No, what is it?”

“The story of a woman, O, who gives herself wholly to the man she loves. He uses her sexually any way he wishes and has her trained to serve his sexual needs. It’s a classic, often referred to in the same breath as Bondage & Discipline but it’s more complicated than that. I want you in much the same way as “Sir Stephen” wanted O although in my case I would like to train you myself.”

“Train me?”

He realised this was the crossroad; at this point he won or lost. He didn’t want to frighten her off before she had even considered his proposal, yet he also didn’t want to lead her on. Was it time for some commitment on his part?

“Train you, show you what I like and I hope what you’ll like. If you consent Linda, I want to be your partner. I will love you, protect you, but also discipline you, and have you obey me. I will never hurt you more than you can stand and I will always put you first in my life. Look we’ve barely known each other a week and all this is happening so fast, but I already find myself falling in love with you. If you want more time then that’s fine, take as long as you like, but I don’t want to lie to you - to hurt you. I can’t pretend to commit to a woman who doesn’t share my desires. Stay with me and give me a chance to show you what I have to give you. If after some time you don’t want the relationship I offer I’ll understand, but this way neither of us will expect more than the other is willing to give.”

“Paul this is all so fast. I don’t mind you tying me up, but training?”

“I’ll lend you the book Linda, read it, ask questions, ignore or refuse those parts you don’t like. In the meantime learn to love me if you can.”

“Paul… alright, I’ll read it. I already, well… I’m already fond of you. Let me read the book all right? Now make love to me.”

“Again?”

“You said you’d look after me.”

They laughed together and he found, much to his surprise, that he was up to the job.

***

On the Wednesday he took time to go shopping and went up market, credit card in hand, looking at the likes of Gucci and Dior. The dress he bought, a deep burgundy coloured sheath with shoelace straps, was worth the expense. He had it delivered to her flat and included tickets to an opening night as well as dinner reservations for the coming Friday. Whilst out shopping he had more roses delivered, but this time to the office. Perhaps it was time to let her know that, if she wanted, their relationship could be public knowledge, and he suggested so in the enclosed note.

That night he received an excited phone call thanking him for the dress and wanting to see him. He realised that he was missing her so told her he would come over. She suggested he bring a change of clothes this time.

It was gone nine by the time he arrived, yet she had already laid out drinks and a late supper. They kissed and flirted all through the meal then she put on a fashion show with the new dress. She pointed out that she would be getting new shoes to match the dress although he saw little problem with those she wore. He did however note the panty-line under the dress and suggested she slip her panties off.

“Is this to do with the book?”

“Sorry?”

“The Story of O. She wasn’t allowed underwear.”

He laughed. “We haven’t really discussed that yet. In this case it’s simply because no underwear looks so much better. At the very least a ‘G’ string or, what do the Americans call them, a thong, would be the way to go, but in a long dress why bother with underwear at all?”

She reached under the dress and removed her panties throwing them into a corner. “How’s that, better?”

“Beautiful. You will be the prettiest woman there. Can I do one more thing for you?”

“Which is?”

“I can arrange for you to have Friday off, one of the perks of sleeping with the boss. I’d like to book you in for a complete make over. Sauna, massage, hair, make-up, the lot. Interested?”

“I really shouldn’t take time off work, and do you think I need to be made over?”

He laughed and gently pulled her into his lap. “I sent you roses today so that others would know you are mine. I’m proud of you and think you need nothing. Yes, in the future, if you agree to be mine, I’ll make suggestions on how you wear your hair and make-up as well as many other things. In the meantime I just want you to love me. So I find myself wanting to make your life a little more special. I have the power to get my love off work - so why not. Likewise with the makeover; It’s decadent and I want to spoil you.”

“Well if it’s what you want…”

“It is. Now take off this dress before I crush it in my haste to make love to you.”

***

Later as they lay in bed in each other’s arms she was full of questions about the book.