But First Coffee

She sat at a booth in the coffee house and watched the door anxiously. No, anxiously wasn't exactly the right word. Avidly was more like it. She couldn't wait to see him, didn't want to miss his approach, his entry. She was curious to see how he walked, how he moved through the room.

It was strange to be meeting someone who she felt she already knew, even if only in pieces. Like an ancient pottery vase, there were missing fragments. Even though they had talked through virtual means for months, the focus had been narrow. They were familiar with each other's voices. She knew what he looked like. He'd seen...well, almost all of her. That thought only increased her anticipation.

They'd been cautious, neither wanting to give too much away to the other. But now the moment had come. She sat up straight, took a sip of her water, glanced at her phone to check the time. She had arrived early, wanting to feel comfortable in the surroundings before he showed up. This was a place neither of them knew, where they wouldn't be recognized by anyone.

She'd waited until she could claim a booth in the corner, one not overlooked by other patrons. Then she'd texted him that she was there, as they'd agreed. She ran her tongue nervously over her lips, mentally reviewing the checklist of instructions he had provided, although she knew she had forgotten nothing. She hadn't touched herself for the last four days. She'd put on the lingerie he'd chosen -- he'd seen all of that -- and clothes that fit his requirements -- a mid-thigh black knit skirt and, on top, a blue-green silk blouse, unbuttoned modestly to her collarbone. And in her tote were several toys he'd told her to bring.

Other than water, she'd ordered nothing to eat or drink -- she was to wait for his permission to do that. She sat straight, her back slightly arched, her legs open -- not so much as would attract attention, but a reminder that she was his possession, her body his to use and order as he wished.

Not for the first time she thought about

The Story of O

. That book had given her the first inkling of what she was. And now she sat here, feeling very much like O, her skirt folded up under her, awaiting the man to whom she had been gradually ceding control. But unlike O, she was allowed to wear underwear. For now.

It was late afternoon. Outside it was a typical early Spring day. Pale blue sky with fast-scudding white clouds. She kept her eyes on the entryway until her vigil was finally rewarded. Recognizing him was easy. She enjoyed watching him unobserved for the few moments it took him to locate her in the room. Then his eyes lit on her and he smiled slightly, making his way toward her.

She wasn't sure if he'd sit on the bench seat beside her or across from her. He chose the latter, sliding in until he was exactly opposite. Their knees were practically touching. His eyes were just as intense as she'd expected, and she had a hard time tearing her gaze away. She moistened her open lips again, but she knew that it wasn't her place to begin the conversation.

His smile grew as he looked at her, then he said, "At last, little slut. Are you trying to tempt me to slip my cock between those open lips?"

Her insides turned upside down. After all those months of listening to his voice at night, associating it with all of the filthy things he said, it was almost like she'd been conditioned to respond to him. She wanted to open her mouth wider; hell, she wanted to go to her knees. But instead she closed it and smiled back at him.

"Hello, Sir. I...it's lovely to meet you too."

His eyes crinkled, "Not as meek as you look." He put a large hand on the table, circled her wrist with it. Her breath grew unsteady as his fingers tightened. Almost meditatively, he studied her. "I'm curious to find out if you'll become meeker or bolder when you start to beg."

Despite her stern lecture to herself earlier that she was going to appear worldly and sophisticated, she began to blush at his words. But that was nothing new. His words had been what attracted her to him in the first place. His words and the way he used them to tease and arouse, humiliate and deny. Until her sharp mind turned off and she literally became mindless with desire.

He studied her now. "Undo two more buttons on your blouse for me."

With difficulty she refrained from saying, "Yes, Sir." Instead, her trembling fingers answered for her, slipping the tiny shell buttons through the buttonholes until the top of her pale green bra was just visible.

Satisfied, he let go of her hand and leaned back. "Have you been waiting long?"

She shook her head, "I only arrived a few minutes before I texted you. I thought this table...?"

He nodded decisively. "You did well. Now take out your vibrator and attach it to your panties."

She heard herself gasp. Her hand jerked convulsively, almost upsetting her glass of water. To cover her confusion she said, "Right now? I thought...I thought maybe we'd talk for a while."

He gave a slow grin. "Are you telling me what to do?" She quickly shook her head, but before she could say anything he continued. "Having control of your vibrator is a good way to get answers out of you. It keeps you from overthinking things. We've already discovered that, haven't we, pet?"

Her color rose as she recalled exactly how they had discovered it. Nodding slowly, she reached into the tote on the seat beside her. Discreetly, she showed him the small pink remote vibrator in her hand, and he nodded. She started to scoot out of the booth when his hand whipped out to grab her wrist again. "Where are you going?"

She looked at him, perplexed. "To the bathroom. To put on the vibrator."

He shook his head, pulled her gently back onto the seat. "No need to go to the bathroom to do that. Besides, if you want to leave the table, you'll ask permission first."

His voice was deceptively mild, but his eyes were sharp and his grip felt like iron. She found herself murmuring, "I'm sorry, Sir," before resuming her seat. Her body felt flushed with embarrassment. He wanted her to put it on...here?

Reading her mind, he made a little motion with his hand as if to say, "Get on with it."

Telling herself that no one could see her unless they were standing next to the table, she cautiously folded up the front of her skirt, then picked up the vibrator and fumbled around under the table until she had it in place, a strong magnet holding it there. He was very particular about having it rest right on top of her sensitive clit. Finally, she folded her skirt back down and lifted her hands to the table, giving him a shaky nod.

Almost immediately, she felt the device begin to pulse. He'd selected a pattern that was full-on stimulation; no slow build-up for her. He kept one hand on his phone, controlling the vibe, and took her hand with his other one. "Isn't that better? Especially since you haven't touched yourself for four days. You did follow my instructions, didn't you?"

She smiled gamely, though the vibrator was a bit distracting. She murmured, "Of course, Sir."

"Then you must be a needy, desperate little slut by now. Are you? Tell me."

She squirmed slightly, her eyes not quite meeting his. "Yes, I am, Sir."

He squeezed her hand hard, making her startled eyes fly back to his face. "I said...tell me."

Very softly she said, "I'm a needy, desperate little slut, Sir."

His thumb stroked over her pulse. "What are you desperate for?"

She made an anguished sound. "Desperate for Sir's cock and Sir's control. Desperate for permission to come like the filthy little whore I am."

At this admission, the vibe jumped up another level of intensity so that her legs involuntarily tried to close. But he had insinuated his long legs between hers, keeping them well apart. She whimpered.

"That's my good girl. Desperate and edged. Just where I want you to be. Now...I think it's time we ordered something, don't you? The menu is written up on the wall behind me. I can't see it from here, so you're going to read it to me, little slut." He lowered his voice slightly, continuing to stroke her wrist, "Don't stop reading until I tell you. And don't come."

She nodded slowly, unconsciously licking her lips again. She willed herself to focus on the chalkboard menu and started reading aloud. "Fresh brewed coffee. Caffe Americano. Caffe Latte. Espresso. Caffe M-macchiato." Her voice trembled as the vibrator started to buzz in sharp bursts, then she valiantly continued. "Caffe Lungo. Espresso D-doppio. Caffe Mocha. Caffe..." she broke off as a shudder went through her and she closed her eyes. She was clearly on the edge and fighting not to go over.

He watched her and waited patiently. Eventually the vibrator subsided back to its regular hum, and she opened her eyes. "Sorry, Sir," she whispered, fingers still gripping his hand tightly.

He merely nodded and said, "Start over."

This time she made it all the way to the tea menu before the vibrations inched up again and stopped her mid-flow. She drew in careful breaths, but the edge didn't subside. Her wide eyes grew glassy, and he could see it was only a matter of time before she came.

His voice cut across her dazed arousal. "Keep reading, no matter what happens."

Voice quavering, she continued. "Darjeeling. Oolong. Jasmine. Earl Grey. Ginger Peach. M-mint...oh god, Sir, I'm going to come...please..."

"Keep reading."

"Green P-passion. White Bamboo. Rooibos." She stopped, unable to go on. He felt her legs tighten against his under the table, her fingernails digging into his wrist.

Certain that he'd pushed her to the very edge, he smiled and returned the vibe to those short, powerful bursts. He leaned over and whispered, "You may come, little slut."

Her body shook as she tried to contain her orgasm. Oh god...she was really going to come, right here, in public. It was all the more intense for having to remain still and be quiet, and it seemed to go on and on. When it was over, she opened her dazed eyes and sought out his. Clearly embarrassed by her lack of control, she stumbled into an apology. "I'm so sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to -- "

He cut her off. "No need to apologize. I enjoyed your performance. If I hadn't wanted you to come, I would have turned this off." He waved the phone in the air, then set it down. Mercifully, the vibrator stopped.

She sagged back against the seat, her breathing ragged. This was all much more intense than she'd expected. Yet somehow, it was almost easier to do these things -- these humiliating, arousing things -- with him actually there. He'd given her tasks to perform on her own during the past couple of months, some of them even in public. She had found them difficult and even scary at first. Over time they became somewhat easier. But knowing he was there, she felt she could do whatever humiliating thing he asked of her.

He gave her a minute, then said, "Sit up straight, now. You know what I want."

Slowly she straightened, arched her back just that extra bit. As he watched her, her hand went down below the table edge, down between her legs. He could tell the exact moment that she touched herself. Her face went soft and vacant, all her focus turned inward. A moment or two later and he said, "That's enough, pet."

She brought her hand up. It was glistening with her juices. He could imagine just how wet she must be, how drenched her panties were. She held her hand close to her, not wanting anyone else to see. When he nodded, she slowly pushed the wet fingers into her mouth, sucked delicately at them. Her eyes were locked on his. He shifted, his cock stiffening uncomfortably in his jeans.

After she cleaned her fingers thoroughly, she removed them from her mouth. Then she lowered her eyes demurely and said, "Thank you, Sir, for allowing your slut to come."

His eyes gleamed with approval. "That's one. I plan on making sure that you have at least three more before you leave. One for each day that I didn't allow you to touch."

Her lips curved up slightly, though she didn't look at him. "Sir is too generous."

He snorted. "I didn't say how I'd planned them, little slut. You may feel different before we're done."

Not likely, but she kept that thought to herself. Instead she looked up, a shy but eager smile on her lips. "Shouldn't I be seeing to your pleasure, Sir?"

He grinned, in a way that relaxed his intense features. "You don't think that you just brought me pleasure, pet?" He rested his arms on the table. "I'm going to order coffee for us. While I'm gone, you will take off your panties and put them on the table. When I come back, I want to see them spread out next to your placemat."

He stood and, without looking back, headed to the counter to place their order. Another shudder passed through her, but then she remembered what he had just said. She had pleased him. And this would please him too. She carefully removed the vibrator from her panties and put it back in her tote after wrapping it in a napkin. Then she removed her panties. She held onto them, crumpled in her hand, for just a moment, unwilling to make visible her arousal -- the undeniable proof of what she was.

Her eyes went to him. He was just paying for whatever he had ordered, was about to turn around and head back. Quickly she laid the panties on the table, smoothing them out between her placemat and the wall. She wrinkled her nose slightly when she saw how wet they were, evidence that she'd just come so forcefully.

He returned to his seat and studied the table. With a finger he reached over and traced the lace trim of her panties, then said, "Good girl. I do like you in green. Those are very nice in person."

She still felt nervous, so she tried to change the subject. "I thought you were going to order something?"

He nodded. "Yes, I ordered macchiatos for both of us. They had a bit of a back-up, so the server will bring them to us when they're done."

Her eyes widened. She knew he'd done it on purpose. The server would see her panties on the table. Oh god, what would he think of her? But the happy, floaty feeling she'd gotten from his approval tempered her anxiety. She took such pleasure in pleasing him, obeying him. It felt far worse to her to fail in completing one of his commands than to have someone see her as a slut.

He leaned back with a satisfied look, as if he could hear her inner dialogue. "Did you have second thoughts, pet?"

She hesitated a moment, then nodded. She couldn't lie to him.

"Undo one more button then. Every time you hesitate, you'll undo one more. It's a good thing that blouse has so many buttons."

Her fingers reached down and found the next button, hovered there. He eyed her. "Do you want me to make it two?"

She quickly undid it. Most of her bra was now visible. She tried to keep the edges of her blouse together, but he took her hand and put it on the table as the server approached with their coffees. She kept her gaze averted, but from the corner of one eye she saw his hand hesitate before setting down her oversized mug, heard his slight intake of breath. Then he was gone.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Sir said cheerfully after taking a sip of the warm drink.

As they drank their coffees and talked about some of their shared interests, she relaxed a little. Still, she had a feeling that they were playing a game of cat and mouse, and she wasn't the cat. He held all the control, and while it made her tremble, it also made her incredibly, fiercely aroused.

She had a quick, irrepressible imagination. It darted here and there, eluding her control. Sitting across from him, she couldn't keep from imagining how that beard of his would feel between her legs, if he would ever deign to put his mouth on her there. God, that would be...heaven, all rough and scratchy against her smooth thighs...

"Come back to me, little slut," he was saying, with a small frown. Oh no, what had she missed?

"I'm sorry, Sir," she said, then realized that she was saying that a lot. She closed her mouth and simply waited for him to go on.

"I asked you what other toys you have in your bag," he said in mild reproof.

"All the ones you told me to bring," she answered, a bit too quickly so she sounded like a smartass. She blushed again, but he only laughed at her.

"Don't worry. I'll have opportunity to chastise you later. For now, show me those toys."

Well, it wasn't any worse than having her panties sitting on the table. She opened her tote and placed the items on the table between them: her favorite dildo, a pair of nipple clamps with bells on them, a ball gag, and a small riding crop. She couldn't for the life of her figure out how he planned to use all of these items in a place like this. They had both agreed earlier that they would meet here and leave separately, no matter how well things went. Decisions about future meetings should be made with clear heads.

He ran his eyes over the assortment. "Very nice, little slut. You're very good at following directions. Now I have one more for you. And you'll be pleased that this time I'll allow you to use the bathroom."

She eyed him nervously and waited for him to continue. "Take your panties in one hand -- you may crumple them up. And your dildo in the other hand. Go into the bathroom and work the dildo into your pussy. Put your panties back on and return to me, keeping that dildo inside you."

This time she paled. She really wasn't sure she could do this. But when he started looking pointedly at her half-opened blouse, she quickly stood, grabbing her panties off the table. Then, after a moment of agonized indecision, she picked up the dildo and -- looking at him reproachfully -- headed to the restroom at a rapid pace, keeping her hand close to her side.

Once the door closed on her, he couldn't hold back a grin. The combination of her reluctance and her obvious arousal at carrying out his commands was something he found extraordinarily enjoyable. He kept his eyes on the door, wanting to see her face when she came out. He wanted to savor her awkward walk back to the booth as she struggled to keep the dildo inside her.

In the bathroom, she was still so wet from her earlier orgasm that pushing the dildo inside herself was no problem. In fact, she gave a little gasp at how good it felt, having her pussy filled. She carefully put her panties on, hoping that they'd help her keep the damn thing from falling out. Thank god he hadn't chosen a thong.

Experimentally she squeezed her pussy muscles, gripping it. A devastating ripple of pleasure ran through her. Oh no. No, no, no. She hadn't reckoned on that. If she had to walk very far like this, she was going to be on the edge of another orgasm.

She emerged a minute later, walking much more slowly now, her face a study in concentration. He continued to smile as he watched her progress. It was a shame he hadn't asked her to bring a butt plug as well. But that might have been too much.

Finally she reached the booth and sat gingerly. He reached over and lifted her chin. Her eyes had that inward focus again. He murmured, "Squeeze, little slut. Squeeze on it. Keep it inside you. Imagine it's my cock."

She gave a little moan at his words. He could tell that she was following his instructions, working her way closer to a second orgasm. After several minutes, her eyes fastened on his pleadingly. "Sir, it's too much. I can't...I'm going to come. Please, Sir, may I...have permission?"

He nodded encouragingly. "First, tell me what you are, pet."

She wanted to pant, but she forced herself to speak instead. "Your slut, Sir. Your needy cock-hungry..." she paused, squeezed again, looked at him desperately, "...little fucktoy."

"Use your hand to push the dildo into you harder. You may come when you can't hold back anymore," he said. She bit her lip hard, shook her head, not wanting to do this here but helpless to stop. He watched her lips tremble, her back arch. Watched her lose all consciousness of where she was as she came again.