It Started On The Metro

At this point, I couldn't even tell you what day it was when everything started. I just know I took the metro—maybe the car was out of gas or traffic was crazy (well, traffic is always crazy) or something. I remember that I was dressed kind of cute that day, a button-down and black skirt. Nothing special, but more than my everyday attire.

I remember that the metro was pretty crowded, it was the beginning of rush hour. I didn't have my backpack, just a purse—wasn't wearing a knife, nothing. I'm kind of glad, though. I'd have hated for things to turn out different—although I guess I never would have known.

Anyway, it was crowded and I squeezed between a middle-aged Mexican lady and a gentleman who'd just given his seat to an elderly lady with a cane. The man was dressed in a pastel purple-blue button-down, black slacks, and a silver, purple, and pink diagonally striped tie. He was wearing after shave, or maybe just really nice soap—either way, he had that sort of forest-y, musky scent I love so much on guys. He was white, almost a head taller than me, with dirty blonde hair that was gelled into that kind of somewhat-spiky-young-businessman look. I didn't take too much note of him, other than enjoying his smell, until he stumbled into me when the car lurched.

He smiled and apologized—he had a nice smile and a deep, pleasant voice—as he straightened again. I nodded and went back to whatever thoughts I had been thinking. Then his hand brushed my ass.

It gave me goosebumps, but I tried to shrug it off. It was probably an accident. Even if it wasn't, I was embarrassed to think that I might have possibly, maybe... enjoyed it?

No way, part of my brain argued. There's no way I could enjoy that. Either way, it was definitely an accid—

Then he squeezed my ass. There was no way it could have been a mistake. That was a sure, deliberate squeeze. Before I could turn around, I felt his breath hot on my ear.

"Do you enjoy having your ass groped by complete strangers?" I gasped and started to turn to give him a piece of my mind, but his other hand on my shoulder held me in place. "Don't turn. Don't cause a scene. If you do, I'll have to stop... and I know how disappointed we would both be if that happened." As he said that, he squeezed again, and I felt a rush to my face and... other parts.

I sneakily glanced around to see if anyone was noticing my emotionally and sexually confusing violation. Despite my attempts at subtlety, I felt, as well as heard, his chuckle.

"Did you want them to notice? To see what a little slut you are?" As he called me a slut, his hand gave my ass a firm smack, then gently rubbed it in. I shook my head, then nearly yelped when he pinched me. I didn't know this man from Adam, but he was playing for hell with my poor nerves. "Don't lie to me, girl." His voice had darkened, sending a fresh wave of goosebumps with every sentence. "You're obviously a little slut, or you wouldn't be enjoying this quite so much." He leaned in to whisper, his body pressed against mine. I could barely hear him over the gushing sound of my cunt. "I think you know you're a slut... and I think you want this whole train car to know as well."

I shook my head again and squeaked something unintelligible. He chuckled, the bastard, but let me clear my throat and find my voice. "Please don't."

"Please don't... what?"

This isn't happening. There is no way this is happening.

"Please don't... sir?" When no response came, I continued. "Please don't tell the car that I'm a little slut, sir. Please, sir." The Mexican lady turned to stare at me, then edged away while I stared innocuously at the ceiling, cheeks burning.

Again, I felt, as well as heard, his chuckle. "I think someone just found out right now. But you can rest assured, my little slut. Your secret is safe with me."

I nodded and shakily breathed, "Thank you, sir."

Good Lord, I'm gonna need to change my panties when I get back.

He squeezed my shoulder approvingly with one hand and rubbed my ass with the thumb of his other hand. "Good girl for thanking me."

The metro ground to a halt, causing him to lurch forward again and grab two handfuls of my breasts. He gave them each a subtle pinch before straightening and adjusting his tie. As he did, he murmured: "Ooh, very nice, little slut. I think those would produce quite well... and make good playthings either way. Hm, a shame they're so covered up, though." He moved forward slightly, just enough so I could feel his breath on my ear again. "Why don't you unbutton your shirt and display them properly."

My hands automatically moved to obey before I stopped and hesitated. Who did he think he was, having me unbutton my shirt? And what was I doing, blindly obeying a stranger?

He wants me to unbutton my shirt? Then what? He said produce, and that they're playthings. Oh, shit. He can't mean...

I felt his weight shift as he noticed my hesitation. Why did he have to smell so good? And why did his voice play across my skin, raising goosebumps and leaving my cunt soaked? "You don't have to, of course. You could just leave it buttoned up like a good little girl, hiding those beautiful assets you've been given. Just leave it buttoned up, and all this will stop."

Well, it is just a few buttons...

When the train started again, he used the momentum to pull me into him.

Oh, what the hell.

I undid a few buttons with shaky fingers, opening my shirt so it barely concealed my bra.

"One more."

With only half a second's hesitation, I obeyed.

He squeezed my shoulder again. "Good girl." He shifted again, his body pressed right up against mine. I could barely think. I could barely breathe. I was all too aware of something firm and quite insistent poking into my tailbone.

Definitely gonna need to change panties.

"Does that feel good?"

I nodded slowly, breathless.

"What do you say?"

Deep breath.

"Yes sir. It feels good, sir."

"Good girl, that's better." He bent down to grab his briefcase and shifted his weight away from me, towards the door. "This is my stop. Get off with me, and we can talk. Otherwise, no hard feelings." I felt/heard his smile. "It was an enjoyable ride; thank you for that."

I don't know why I followed him off—fuck that, I know exactly why I followed him off. In any event, my drenched pussy and I followed him through the crowds at the station to a nearby grassy area. There were some picnic tables and ashtrays, but no one was using the area to smoke at the time. He gestured for me to take a seat as he did the same, setting his briefcase down in the grass.

He cleared his throat and smiled. "I didn't expect you to follow me, but I'm glad you did. What's your name?"

"Kyla." My heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest. "And yours?"

He gave me his name, then added with a wink, "But you can call me Sir," as he stretched out a hand. He had a pleasant handshake, warm and firm and dry.

Even his handshake is turning me on. Get a hold of yourself, girl.

He cleared his throat again and adjusted his tie.

Could he be nervous? He gropes me on the metro, but he's nervous about it going somewhere... hm.

He cleared his throat again, bringing my attention back to the present. "Now. Are you a student? Working? Both? Extracurriculars?"

"All of the above, sir, although my job is flexible. Why?"

"It gives me some place to start. I train subs, and I'm trying to get a feel for you." He paused. "If this goes anywhere, you would be my only submissive. My last left a few months ago—she's now an up-and-cumming porn star." He smiled. "She did very well with training. Now, for training, I—" He paused. "Er, you do know what a submissive is, yes?"

I nodded.

"BDSM?"

Another nod.

"Dominants, slaves—"

"I'm familiar with all of it, sir," I interrupted. He raised an eyebrow, but let me continue. "I've been in the kink community and had Dominants before. Although," I blushed, "none who groped me on the metro."

He smiled. "That was tame compared to what we'll do if I take you on, but it's good to know you're not a complete innocent. Now, if I take you on—that's a big if—you will maintain stellar grades in your classes and a strong work performance. Do you mind if I ask your job?"

"Lifeguard," I responded, "and sometimes tutor."

He nodded. "You'll be getting plenty of rest and exercise, then. A 3.5 GPA at least—"

"I have a 3.8."

The eyebrow shot back up. "That's good to know, and I'll expect you to maintain that or higher. I'll also expect you not to interrupt me again. You will maintain at least a 3.8, good physical shape, healthy sleep patterns, and overall good physical health. You will immediately notify me of any concerns. Now, thoughts thus far?"

I exhaled slowly. "They're... all over the place. I'd like to keep talking. You haven't really said what being your submissive actually entails, except for the part about taking care of myself, and I think I still don't know you from Adam. You're just some guy who groped me on the train." The words hung in the air. "Um, sir," I added belatedly, to try to add some respect.

The corner of his mouth quirked upwards as he leaned forward. "That's to be expected. As for what it entails, it entails whatever I say it does. I'll use you as a slut, a toy, a pup, anything and everything I want. I'll determine your diet, wardrobe, workout routine, everything. You're feisty, which is adorable. You'll learn; you'll be broken in like a horse. You'll serve me sexually and also in everyday life—cooking, cleaning, all of that. You'll always have time for studies and fun, of course. I'm firm, and I expect the best out of you—but you'll see that I'm also very generous to good girls." He paused, seeing the stricken expression on my face. "Yes?"

I swallowed—several times, as my throat had gone dry—and whispered, "Broken in?"

He grinned, the bastard. "Oh yes. And then, the fun will just be beginning."