We meet in a city, somewhere big and anonymous, and get a hotel room for a few nights. One with a big, soft bed that is so inviting – but that will have to wait. First, we go out on the town together. I wear a see-through black lace top and long black velvet skirt. My eyes are dark, my lips a deep purple-red. You are all in black. You put the collar around my neck and attach a leash. And with a familiar, almost casual attitude, you lead me out into the night.
I don't know where we are going, I merely follow you. I *must* follow you, as you have me in your grip. You light a clove and we pass it between each other as we walk towards wherever it is you're taking me. Again I notice how erotic it is simply to share a cigarette with you. How gorgeous you are as the smoke escapes your lips.
Our destination turns out to be a strip club – not too sleazy, but not too classy either. I've never been to one of these before, and it excites me. Even more so to go with you. You unhook the leash and put it in your pocket for later, opening the door and ushering me into the club. We sit for awhile watching the dancers, your hand resting lightly on my thigh, driving me crazy with just that small touch. I lean over and purr in your ear as you watch the girls, loving the reaction I see in your body, and your eyes.
You rise and I think perhaps we are going now, but first you plan to tease me. You find one of the girls – pretty, auburn-haired, a bit more voluptuous than the rest of them, and you pay her for a lapdance. Your eyes tell me I am to watch, silent and still, as this woman writhes her naked body all over you. It is torture - a sweet, delicious torture - as I see your arousal, what she's doing to you, and what it's doing to you to watch me watch you. And I, helpless, cannot touch you or bring you to me until you are ready. I stay where I am like a good kitty, wanting you so badly.
When it's over, you tip the girl and turn to me, giving me a long, deep kiss, all tongue and teeth, and I accept it hungrily. You pull me to my feet and lead me out of the club, attaching the leash again once we are outside. I don't know what you plan for me next, I just follow you.
We end up at a beautiful, goth-inspired bar, filled with interesting, exotic people in their blacks and reds. You stop me outside the doors, tell me to look inside and watch the people. You press up against me as I do this, and whisper in my ear. You tell me to go in alone, and you will follow. I am to look for a man I find attractive, and start up a conversation with him, flirt with him, let him buy me a drink. Let him touch me. And you will watch me, let it go as far as you want, until you wish to stop me. You unhook my leash and send me inside.
I see many pretty boys, the kind that would look good in cages, but they are not really my type. But then I catch the eye of one man, subtle in his gothic look, broad-shouldered, a severe expression on his face. I walk over to the table he's sitting at in the back, and he motions for me to sit down. He gets me a drink – I want cinnamon schnapps, red in the glass, hot on my tongue.
He talks to me, I can hardly focus on what he's saying, knowing that you are only a few feet away, watching. He moves in closer, brushes his hand over my hair, his lips against my cheek. I steal a glance over to you, and you merely nod your head. So I turn my face and the man kisses me – hesitating at first, and when I don't pull away he goes deeper, harder, and his hand is on my shoulder pulling me to him.
And then you are beside me, you take my hand and jerk me to my feet and lead me out of the bar, and I turn and look behind me at the man, who is rather confused, and I smile. Once we are out of the doors, you pull me, roughly, around the corner, into the small space between the buildings, push me hard against the brick wall and kiss me. Your kisses, like no others. You whisper in my ear, "You are mine," and then you hook the leash to my collar and lead me back to the hotel.