After our last encounter, Emily and I had lain in the grass talking with her cuddled up against me. I had been uncertain as to how she would react to the experience, but apparently it had been exactly what she was after. She had appetites that mainstream society considered to be deviant and had been unsuccessful in finding someone to play rough with.
When I talked to Lisa later in the week I had asked about Emily. She indicated that Emily had been, with some measure of discretion, inquiring around the community for other people that enjoyed rough play. There were a number of us, actually, with a variety of tastes. It turned out that Lisa had been keeping an eye on her for a bit and had eventually, indirectly, suggested that I might be someone to approach.
Emily and I corresponded by email and IRC. I had asked what sorts of games she might like to play. She sent me erotic images, video clips and segments of stories. We commented on and critiqued the shared media. It was hot stuff, and very specific, but all fiction and fantasy. I directed her toward actual informational resources to toss a bit of reality into the mix.
Now it's Thursday morning and we're in a coffee shop near the University. Emily is her usual warm self. She is gorgeous with her hair falling to frame her face and eyes. She is wearing a black turtleneck with an earth toned Peruvian sweater over it.
"We've been talking about it an awful lot. Can we play again? Soon?" she asks energetically.
As much as I enjoy Emily's usual self, she is approaching me for a specific type of experience and has given me a fair amount of untested data to use as a baseline for the type of experience she was looking for. It's time to test the data.
"I realize that we're in a public place," I say thinking about the story segments that she had sent, "but perhaps you can find a discrete, and yet more appropriate manner in which to initiate a scene?"
Emily looks from side to side to see who might be nearby. The room is too noisy for conversation to be heard very far. She places both hands on the table's edge in front of her and leans forward.
"Sir," Emily restates, "would it please you to play with me again in the near future?"
I smile and sip my coffee. "It would. Are you free on Saturday?"
"Yes, sir. I am free all weekend," Emily says a little louder to be audible over a hiss of steam from behind the counter.
"Interesting choice of words," I smirk deviously and rub my hands together. "Do you have any dates between now and then?"
"No, Sir," is the reply.
"Excellent. The scene begins now," I pause to sip my coffee and observe Emily's reaction. She blinks and waits for me to continue. "You are not allowed to cum without my permission, and I will not be giving any permission until I see you on Saturday. I want your tension to build between now and then. Understand?"
"Yes, Sir," she responds. Emily has been sending me a steady stream of erotic media. I watch her face as the idea that she is not going to be allowed to get off for two days settles in. "Sir, does that mean I can't ... do it myself? No cumming at all?"
"Correct. No masturbation," I answer in a matter of fact tone. I know that she isn't seeing anyone currently, so there won't be any pressure for sex from another lover.
"Yes, Sir," her voice is relaxed. She seems less consciously aware about who might hear our conversation than even just a few moments ago.
Emily's eyes stay on me while I gave her a short set of instructions. With each acknowledgement I can hear the spark of lust being kindled and concern for her surroundings diminish. Seeing her respond positively pleases me, even more so to think of her avoiding masturbation over the next couple of days. I suspect that she will actually obey, but we'll just have to wait and see.
Emily is not the kind of woman to be pushed or coerced into a situation that she does not want to be in. If that weren't the case there is no way that I would consider playing these games with her. I know that anything we do is with her consent. Particularly since she has several years of Ju Jitsu training to defend her sense of boundaries with, if she felt the need to do so.
Our waitress, Rebecca, comes over with the check and a cup of ice. She brushes a bright blue bang away from her eyes and looks Emily up and down with a smile.
"Did you want that other order to go?" Rebecca asks with a smirk.
I pass her a twenty and answer, "Yes, please."
Rebecca takes the twenty and walks away.
"When is the last time you got off, Slave?" I ask Emily.
"This morning, Master," Emily is using a tone that is only slightly quieter than normal conversation.
I lean forward and ask, "What were you thinking about?"
Emily's hands move to her lap.
"I was thinking about," she pauses and looks down at her lap.
"You can torture yourself like that if you want, but no cumming," I remind her.
Returning her hands to the table Emily continues, "I was remembering the way you used my mouth. How it felt to have your hands guiding my head and your cock sliding across my tongue. How badly I wanted to please you, for you to please yourself with me."
"So you got yourself off remembering the way I fucked your mouth?" I'm feeling downright wolfish now.
Emily answers, "Yes, Master. I loved it."
I look at the check and leave an appropriate amount pinned under my coffee cup. Emily looks puzzled for a moment, remembering that I had already handed our waitress some cash. I pick up a small key that had been placed under the check.
"Come with me, Slave," I say quietly.
Emily whispers, "Yes, Master."
We get up from the table and walk back to the hallway that leads to the restrooms. My jacket conceals the fact that my cock is as hard as steel right now. We walk past the frat boys at the counter that check Emily out as she passes. We walk past the businesswoman juggling her phone along with a coffee and muffin. We enter the hallway and turn the corner, where the restroom doors are and walk past them to a third door marked Employees Only. I use the key to unlock the supply room door and motion Emily inside. I follow, closing the door behind me.
The walls are lined with boxes and shelves, but there is enough space left for my purposes. I step in close and she clasps her hands behind her back. I grab her by the waist and turn her around to face away from me. Her breathing is heavy. Perhaps she is hoping that I've changed my mind and will allow her to cum after all.
"Put your hands on the shelf and bend over so I can inspect your cunt," I whisper into her ear.
