It All Started with a Signature

(written by Arin, edited and enhanced by Molly)

I'd been working as a mail carrier for about a year when I was called into the postmaster's office. I thought I was in trouble as I entered, but he said, "Clare, you're doing a great job... I've even gotten a couple of letters from people saying that they like you. They're praising you, telling me that you tended to go above the call of duty for some older residents when the weather was bad. Therefore, you're being promoted to a new more important area for mail delivery. "

At that point in my life, I lived outside of San Francisco in a relatively nice area. I didn't really know the new area where I was being assigned, but I found out it was an even nicer one with high priced homes, each on a large lot which separated them from each other. Fewer overall homes meant less work for me and I even got a better mail truck to drive. It took me a bit of time to learn the new route, but I sure was impressed by those homes. All of them were two story, well kept, with nice cars parked out in front. I really liked the new area.

One day I noticed the people that lived in a house at the top of a cul-de-sac were moving out. I took note of that in case any future mail came for the departing family, hoping they'd left a forwarding address.

The weather was good and I continued to enjoy making my rounds, although I did miss the people on my former route, especially since I saw less people on this one. It was about a week later when a big moving van was parked at that cul-de-sac house and items were being moved in. Over the next few days the activity there settled down. The trash outside grew bigger, waiting for the designated trash pick up day.

As several weeks passed, nothing else of special note occurred until a certain morning. I was ready to leave with a full load of mail, when I noticed a pile of boxes loaded in the back of my truck. There was a special memo on my seat, stating that all of them were going to the same address, with one box marked for special delivery, which required a signature proving that the delivery was complete. Not thinking anything special about it, I headed out, keeping in mind the special delivery box, which needed to be signed for by a recipient named Andrew Holden.

I was almost done delivering everything when I reached the house for the special delivery box. It was the big house that had recently been moved into, situated on the cul-de-sac. It was a really impressive one, and I noted the classy car parked outside the house. I parked my truck and grabbed the box with the signature requirement and headed up the drive. The box was kind of heavy and I felt things shifting inside it if it got tilted, so I carried it even more carefully. I rang the bell and noticed the return address on the box as I waited. Footsteps could be heard inside as someone approached the door. When it opened, there was a very handsome man, dressed quite nicely and looking distinguished. His clothes said money, casual money, but money nonetheless. His smile could melt butter, while some trick of the light coming from over my shoulder made his eyes seem to sparkle.

I tried to stop staring and become professional. "Are you Andrew Holden?" I inquired. When he agreed that he was, I continued. "Hello, Sir. I need a signature for this box. Also there are several more boxes for you in my truck. May I drive my truck up closer to the house, or could you help me in getting your boxes?"

His smile deepened to a grin. "It looks like a beautiful morning, so I'd be happy to walk down the drive with you and we'll see if it'll take only one trip." I was acutely aware of his presence, and to be honest, rather tongue-tied as we strolled to my truck. When I was near him at the truck I smelled his cologne and it was really attractive, so I breathed deep, trying to be nonchalant about it. Looking at his boxes, he stated, "This looks like a simple, one-trip task." He took the heavy boxes and I took the remaining ones. Back at his house, he opened the door for us, so I carried my boxes in after him. I was glad to have a chance to peek inside, because what I saw looked really opulent. However, I was a little surprised to see several photos of women wearing handcuffs and chains discretely decorating his walls.

I stopped, taking a closer look, and remarked, "I really like your pictures." I hoped he wouldn't consider my perusal offensive.

He told me, "Yes, I find them lovely. They're from a private collection."

He was pleased that his boxes had arrived and thanked me. As he did so, I found myself staring at him. I thought he reminded me of a movie star but I couldn't name the actor.

When I left, walking down his drive to my truck, I couldn't get those pictures out of my mind. I finished up my day and headed home. Just out of curiosity, later that night I looked up the return address I'd seen on the box,

I was surprised to find it was a fetish shop in San Francisco. Its web page was really something, and they claimed to be a one stop shop for all things fetish. As I looked through the different items on the web pages, I realized the images had started to awaken something in me that I hadn't felt in a while but had been lurking in my mind for years. I was aware of the fetish scene and thought I had seen it all but I was surprised by several items on the web pages. I even ordered one of them for myself. Given the fact that he was receiving several boxes from them, I could only imagine what might be going on at his place, and wished I knew for certain.

Time passed as the warmer weather came and I finally saw him outside on his lawn. Seeing me coming, he walked toward my truck to get his mail. I pulled up and looked through the mail, giving him time to approach the truck window. I gathered his mail and handed it to him, giving him time to hopefully notice my very distinctive bracelet.

Blushing with a big smile, I said "Hello, Sir." I'd been wearing what was called an Eternity Bracelet that I'd purchased from that fetish shop. I'd been hoping to see him outside so we could talk. Now that the moment had arrived, I was nervous but I prepared to press on ahead, if he gave me a chance.

His reaction to my bracelet was almost a double take, as he said, 'I guess you're bound to get remarks about your bracelet."

Grateful for that coded opening, I smiled and replied, "Only from people who know its meaning." Pausing briefly, I continued, "I hope you don't mind, but I noticed your packages the other week. I think we might have a common interest."

Rubbing his chin in thought, he asked, "What's your name, please?"

"I'm Clare," I informed him.

"It's nice to meet you formally, Clare. My name's Andrew. Would you like to come for lunch sometime and we can talk more?"

Relieved, I replied, "Friday would be good for me, Andrew. I have two days off. How about 11 AM?"

"Sounds perfect. See you then, Clare, and we'll have a nice talk."

Friday arrived and I got up early to get ready. Once my hair was fixed and my makeup done, I picked out a nice skirt and blouse. Before I put those on, I decided to wear my good lingerie and heels. Doing so always made me feel sexy and desirable. Driving my own car over, I arrived on time. Smoothing down my skirt as I got out of the car, I tried to quell the butterflies flapping in my tummy as I walked to the front door and rang the bell. Footsteps approached, the door was opened -- he looked so great again that my breath caught while my heart sped up. He held the door open as I walked in thinking, "This could be an interesting day." The scent of his cologne was again thrilling.

We walked through the house and went out to the patio. Its deck was big, with a lovely view of his pool. The weather was warm and sunny. Acting as our chef, he cooked breasts of chicken on the prepared barbecue. The lunch was delicious and I was getting a first hand glimpse of how the other half lives. By tacit agreement, we delayed the serious part of our talk until we were finished with lunch, instead just talking about our tastes in music and movies. I helped him clean up and afterward we settled down in the living room, enjoying the plush furniture and surroundings.

Opening up the topic we'd met to discuss, he looked at my eternity bracelet again and mentioned, "That bracelet looks very nice on you, Clare."

I fibbed a little, saying, "I've had it a long time -- I really should wear it more often." Gathering my courage, I said a little breathlessly, "I wanted to tell you why I came forward. I'd never had that many boxes going to the same address, so I became curious about them. I checked the return address, found the fetish store and realized we might have a common interest. I must admit, looking at their web pages fired my memories and curiosity. Then I started to wonder what was in all those boxes you received, even though I freely acknowledge that it's none of my business."

"Since we have similar interests, I don't mind at all, Clare. Come and see my purchases, if you wish."

I nodded my agreement, so he stood up and held out his hand. Taking it, I let him lead me upstairs to a back bedroom which contained the boxes, surprisingly still unopened. It was a sunny room and quite warm. The reason was obvious, since its curtains were not installed yet, which let the sun beams in. He sat on the floor, so I sat across from him.

He opened a small box and a set of leather mittens fell out. Placing the box aside, he stood up and left me there briefly. I picked them up to examine them. They were connected together with string attached to a plastic bag. The bag contained two flat round disks, a small stick, and a price tag.

He came back, carrying a pair of scissors, and sat down again. Holding out his hand for his mittens, he cut the string and tag off. He asked, "Tell me Clare. Do you know what these are, and have you ever worn them before?"

"Well, Andrew, they look like mittens made from leather. And no, I've never tried them before, but I've seen objects like them on the web."

"Let me show you," he stated. He reached out, taking my hand. "Now put your thumb into the palm of your hand and close your fingers over it." As I did so, he pushed the mitten over my hand, wrapping its attached strap around my wrist. When that was snug, he aligned the pin sticking out of the back of the mitten's wrist with one of the holes in the strap. Opening the plastic bag, he placed a black button on the pin and we both heard a 'click' sound. My other hand was treated the same way. I held up my hands and realized I was rather helpless, since I was now unable to grab anything! This realization caused a strange thrill to run through me. I touched my face with the mittens, but I couldn't do anything except feel its cool leather on my face. I noticed Andrew took the small wand from the bag and stored it in his pocket. I found out later it was the release device for the black buttons -- a magnet.

Stretching to reach another of the boxes, a large one, he opened it and he drew out a metal object. It turned out to be a bondage fiddle, which I'd seen in images but I'd never encountered a real one. He showed me how he opened it and to my surprise placed one end of it around my neck. At the other end of it there were two openings. I was sort of mesmerized and didn't resist as he placed my wrists into those openings. Swinging the 2 parts of the fiddle together caused it to close around my neck and also around my wrists. Next, from the top he placed a metal rod down through a hole. The lower end of that rod had a small hole through which he threaded the shank of a small padlock. This he locked with a 'click' that sounded quite loud in that room, since I was holding my breath with several mixed emotions.

Looking hard at what I could see of the fiddle, I now understood that I couldn't get free, even if my hands weren't trapped in the mittens. Positioned as it was, I could never reach the bottom side of the fiddle where that lock hung down. In doing all this, Andrew was sort of testing me. I think I passed his test, because my predicament was getting me excited. The more helpless he'd made me, the faster my heart raced, the more I began to hyperventilate, and the more my pussy churned and churned, perfuming the air around us with my arousal signal. I'd never in my life truly been made this helpless. I was shocked at how much this thrilled me!

Andrew looked at me and said, "Gee, Clare... you look very flushed."

Shyly I replied, "It's because I'm so excited, Sir." I'm not sure why I called him Sir instead of calling him Andrew, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

He left me there for a minute or two, and came back with a glass of water to give me a drink. He had to tilt the glass to let me take small sips. Unable to give myself a nice deep, drink of water, I became so frustrated that I feared I might scream. But I just accepted his ministrations, because I didn't want to disappoint him or be punished.

I guess he felt he'd made his point. He opened the fiddle and removed the mittens from my hands. He helped me to my feet, grabbed my arm and walked me to the front door. Looking at me, he said, "Clare, I see you have potential. If you return to me within 24 hours, I'll take you on as my personal assistant and submissive. But I'd want you to put your heart and soul into the position for at least a year, to save me from the effort of looking for a replacement. I'll treat you well, but realize that you'll be mine to do with as I wish." With that, he opened the door and pushed me outside, quickly closing the door behind me. I became aware that his 24 hour timer had just started.

As I drove home from his house, I was still shaken by what I'd just experienced and how my body had reacted to it. In some ways I felt like a thirsty plant that had just been watered. He'd abruptly also made that offer to me about becoming his personal assistant/submissive without detailing what that meant. Was this another test? Granted, he was good looking, behaved nicely, dressed well and by the looks of him and his house, he had to have money. The toys I'd seen were of high quality. He was a dominant, and knew what he was doing. He'd intrigued and impressed me from the moment I'd met him. I also was very aware that even though he'd had me helpless, he hadn't taken advantage of me at all, which began to earn my trust. He'd never even seen the pretty lingerie that I was wearing. I was of mixed emotions about that, though.

His proposal that I become his personal submissive shook me to the core, since it was so unexpected. But I had to admit to myself that this sort of experience was what I'd wanted since I was younger. I couldn't sleep that night, kept awake by thinking about his offer. I could do a lot worse and who knows how long it would take me to find the right guy or even a better one. But I really needed to know more, and I hoped I wouldn't anger him by pressing with my questions.

Early the next morning, I called him, asking if we could meet somewhere neutral at lunch time. If that timetable seemed too rushed, well, he was the one that set that 24 hour limit. I shared over the phone that I had some questions about his proposal. He agreed it would be a good idea, so we met for lunch at a small sandwich shop. I was waiting for him when he pulled up and parked. He sat, and smiled at me reassuringly saying, "Hello Clare. I'll try to answer any questions you have."

I began with what was, in my mind, a critical point. "I have a job and it pays OK, but if I leave it, I'll need a fallback position."

He asked how much I made, and after he heard, he told me, "I'll give you an allowance of 50% more than you're currently making. It will also come with room and board, plus a clothing allowance. Since you're currently in a Government job, I'll also match any benefits. Beyond that, you need to be wise in your spending and saving."

When I asked for a clarification of the duties of my position, he stated, "I want you to be my maid and assistant. Therefore you'd run the household, taking charge of ordering food, arranging for getting the grass cut and things like that. There is one stipulation though. You'll wear a uniform of my choosing in the house but when we're elsewhere you'll wear normal clothes and we'll just be a couple. I'll pay for any clothes you pick for outside as long as we agree that the price is fair. I can be very generous in this clothing allowance, since, as you can guess, I'm kinky, and like seeing women displayed beautifully."

I had two final important details to clarify. Therefore, I whispered, "This is not necessarily a deal-breaker, but does this job involve me being in cuffs and chains at various times, and my picture joining those of the women on your walls?"

His eyes met mine. "Clare, I'll be honest with you. When I saw your reaction to the mittens and the fiddle, I got the impression that you really want that to happen. Was I wrong?"

I imagine my cheeks turned crimson as I blushed. "You weren't wrong, Andrew. I was happily surprised at my reaction to what you did, but I'm not sure how far I can be comfortable with it if it gets more intense."

"That's, fine, Clare. I stopped when I did because we hadn't discussed any of your limits. I'm not even certain, given your reaction, that you even know what those limits are. So we'd establish what's called a safeword. It's a word that if you say it, I stop immediately with whatever we're doing, so rest assured it will not get out of hand."

Shyly, I asked my currently final question in a very low whisper, to make sure I was not overheard. I managed to look straight into his eyes, so he'd know I was serious. "Andrew, does this job involve sex?"

He gave me a smile that made my pussy twitch happily. "I certainly hope so, Clare. I'm a man with normal needs, and you strike me as a woman with normal needs. I think we can be very compatible in this regard."

I gulped, amazed that he was so matter-of-fact about it, but secretly pleased. I didn't want either of us having false assumptions. I cleared my throat, and stated, "I think I have all my current questions answered, Andrew. I still have until about 5 PM to decide, correct?"

He nodded, saying, "Yes, and remember you'd indicate a positive choice by showing up at my house by then." Our lunch was pleasant, chatting about various things, and making no allusion to my possible decision. We finished lunch, and he walked me to my car. Once I was behind the wheel, he leaned in and kissed me thoroughly. As I drove off, I could still feel his lips on mine, and I liked that sensation.

More than an hour passed, and I was staring at the clock. It was getting late and I was in turmoil. "Should I take the chance for a new life that I'd only dreamed about?" was the question echoing in my mind.

Butterflies whipping up a small hurricane in my tummy, I found myself at his door at 4:30 PM ringing his doorbell while I held my suitcase. I heard him coming close. The door opened and I stepped into my new life.

"I'm so happy you agree to join me, Clare. I'll try to make you happy and take care of you always," Andrew promised me. "Please come this way." He showed me to my room. It was really a dream of a room, beautifully appointed. I felt I couldn't wait to move in.

"You should get unpacked and rest, Clare," he told me. He sat in a chair and watched as I unpacked. From time to time, he'd stop me and say, "Please set that aside, so we can get rid of it, unless you can convince me it has some great sentimental value. We'll need to go shopping to improve your wardrobe." He wasn't rushing things. We dined, and he gave me a brief tour of much of the house. Then he let me read or watch TV, followed by a good night's sleep.

The next day found us at the mall. By the time we got done going through many of the shops, we'd replaced just about everything I'd brought with me when I'd moved in. It was very obvious that he really wanted me to look and feel pretty. My underwear got the most drastic changes, opting toward sensuous rather than utilitarian. Andrew had a liking for garter belts and stockings, so we purchased garter belts and stockings. The saleswomen at the various stores had smiles when we checked out, I assume thinking about their commissions. I personally was elated, looking forward to wearing the things we'd bought.