The white coat of a researcher, the demeanor of an office worker, the hair cut of a young hipster, that's how he stood there behind the cash register using the slow computer as an excuse for fumbling to produce a receipt for the organic turkey sandwich with date compote and pear slices with a sweet taro bun. The co-worker looked like he actually belonged peered over his shoulder at the computer display. The wooden cutting counter, big juicer machines, and commercial stainless steel sinks surrounded us.
A bit too close to the cash register sat the blond dentist from next doors eating her home brought lunch out of a plastic container. She is a bit scary, because behind her polished interior lurk eyes that are unpredictable. The waiting room to her office has original art from the artist on the wall. The wood panels and lighting are definitely designed by an interior architect. Her hair is short and well cared from by a hair dresser to look cute. She isn't cute, because her face looks too hard boiled and she steps with the confidence of a sergeant. Colleagues went to her services like flies, because they either fancied her or one of her hot assistants. She was obviously cognizant of that and in charge of it. Yet, she didn't take them up on it. She had no use for them. It is best to avoid her. If she greets, greet her friendly back, yet keep on walking.
She leaned forward: "Do you want to spank me?"
"Yes. Are you into pain?"
"Well, don't really hurt me!"
"Do you like the domination part that comes with it or strictly the daddy is spanking me fantasy?"
"Go for the good bit."
"Do you like to be man handled or have your hair pulled?"
"I am okay with that."
"We don't need a safe word. If you tell me to stop in any way, we stop. So, there won't be confusion either way, because you are going to shut the fuck up unless asked a direct question."
She was startled and looked with big eyes. She was grabbed by the back of her neck and pulled. Her chair fell down. The loud sound scattered whatever unbelief was left in the store. She was pulled across the aisle, to the bench, to lie across the lap. She garbled, squeaked, and choked in her throat at the same time.
"I like a lot of squirming. Squirm now."
She tried to get up. Her body got half vertical before a strong hand grabbed her hair at the back of the head and pushed her face down to the bench. The other arm wrapped around her hips pulled her down. Her feet moved with little concern to keep on the shoes. Her legs struggled hard spreading her skirt to whoever was lucky enough to stand at the right angle and be fast enough to glance the flash.
