Tracey was a very professional HR consultant, caught by Dan, her manager, watching BDSM porn on the work PC. He had taken control of her pleasure, setting her dress code and spanking her ass regularly. At the end of part 3, when Tracey indicated she thought it was no longer under duress, Dan walked out of her apartment with an ultimatum she had an hour to decide on.
Tracey was totally gobsmacked! She sat in her apartment, two wine glasses in front of her, and wondered what had happened as Dan closed the door behind him. She had thought he would be pleased that she wanted this with him, and didn't need any coercion to enjoy the roles they both wanted. She had thought that telling him she was enjoying their little game would please him, and he threatened her with exposure. She felt her temper rising, and she struggled to control it. She had an overwhelming urge to smash the wine bottle off of the nearest wall, but restrained herself.
In her anger, Tracey stood up and grabbed a raincoat and threw it on over her "clothing", although, she thought angrily, the term clothing did not really apply! She pushed her feet into her high heeled pumps that she had worn earlier, and, grabbing her keys she left her apartment and headed for the lift down to the ground floor.
Dan had spotted two bars as he headed out, and decided a Guinness in the Irish themed one would go down well. As he ordered he mused on what reaction he was going to get. He knew he wanted this to continue, but he also wanted Tracey to really want him to take control, he wanted to be able to ask her to do things and receive punishments that tested and aroused her. He knew that if they had just agreed that they both wanted something it could spoil it all, and another speedy drift to vanilla sex was clearly not what either of them needed. He sipped his beer and watched the door, half expecting Tracey to enter but more expecting his phone to go.
Tracey knew, in her calm head, she should have remained in the apartment and allowed her temper to cool, but that was not an option in her current mood. The jolt of the lift as it hit the ground floor provided additional momentum as she left the lift, crossed the lobby and stood on the street. There were two bars, vibrant and lively, near her apartment - The Swift Half on the left, and McReadie's, an Irish bar to the right.
Tracey started by heading to the Swift Half and walked in, the loud chatter mingling with the sound of the piped music. Her eyes swept the bar and Tracey quickly worked out that Dan was not there.
"Must be McReadie's then," she thought, and turned to leave. On the way out her tall slim looks had clearly caught the eye, and the offer she had from a young man near the door left her in no doubt what he wanted to do with her. She brushed him off and headed back out into the night air, still fuming.
The music was blaring from McReadie's, and as it was poorly lit inside Tracey was momentarily blinded until her eyes adjusted to the darkness. All the seats were taken, and there were a number of customers stood throughout the pub and not just at the bar. A lot of couples were finishing off their meals, and it was difficult to make out Dan amongst the throng of diners and drinkers. She moved to the bar, and attracted the attention of the young, blonde barman. He quickly delivered her whisky and soda, and she took a long slug of the drink to calm her nerves, before she began to work her way around the bar. Suddenly she realised how warm it had become inside the bar, and with a start recalled what she was wearing under her coat. She would not be taking that off to cool down.
As she took a second, calmer, slug of her drink she carefully checked everyone at the bar, and decided Dan was not there. She began to wonder if he just went home, but she would not accept that just yet. She wanted to be sure and worked her way through the crowd from one side to the other, fending off more male advances and the odd grope with little civility. With an inward sigh of relief Tracey finally spotted him, sat alone on a small table right at the back.
Dan noticed Tracey, in her smart long rain coat and the high heeled pumps she had worn earlier, a few minutes after he had sat down at the back of the pub. He noticed the stockings too looked the same so he guessed she had just covered up without a thought for the consequences. He began to think this was a good sign, though he noticed she looked a tad pissed off as she scoured the bar for him. He waited calmly for her to find him, enjoying the cool, dark liquid of his drink as he thought about what he might say.
Dan was facing the door, and Tracey's temper flared further as she realised he could see her perfectly when she had entered the bar. She was tempted to upend her drink over his head, but instead she struck a pose synonymous with female anger and displeasure - hips tilted with one hand on the jutting hip. Tracey gave no thought whatsoever to how Dan might take what she was about to say. She thought even less about what the other customers, many of whom sensed a show-down and are focussed on the two protagonists, might think when she began her tirade.
"What, the fuck, was that about Dan? Do you have any fucking idea how hard that was for me to tell you that I was enjoying our games, and that you didn't have to blackmail me or threaten me? I want this as much as you! And I damn well know how much you want it! I seen your swollen cock, so don't bother denying it! Now, why don't you finish your fucking pint, and get back to my apartment, before I make a scene!"
Only then did Tracey stop and glance around at the palpable silence. Only then did she realise it was too late for being worried about a scene! She saw Dan's totally shocked face, and began to think she had overdone it slightly, so after a very pregnant pause, she added the word "please" on the end.
