's Candy

Part 31 The foreign and the familiar.

I was gently awoken by the flight attendant, who let me know we'd be landing in about 45 minutes. I had never been able to sleep on planes before, but this was no typical plane.

I got back into my clothes and opened the door. I figured out how to get the seat back into seat mode, and opened my bag, checking the mirror to see how bad the bed head was. I cringed a little and went about making my hair presentable.

Ten minutes later I was thinking about how hard it was going to be to leave this comfy seat and fantasy environment and go back out into the real world. In a foreign country, no less.

My phone went off. A text from Rick:

Hope you're having a great flight. After you get through Customs, you'll see a man holding a sign with your name on it. He'll bring you to the hotel.

We can't wait to see you...

Wow, I was going to be one of those people that other people are holding up a sign for when they off the plane. Who knew I was such a rock star?

The other cool thing about first class (other than breezing right off the plane) is that they have people to usher you through Customs and all that. They really thought of everything. I took a moment to text Mistress that I had landed safely.

I got to the area where people were waiting to greet passengers and scanned the crowd, looking for the man with the sign. I finally found him, looking like every limo driver ever. I walked over and said I was candy Blackwell and he smiled and took my wheelie bag and steered me towards Baggage Claim.

We chatted a little as we walked. Lucas, as I found out, spoke very good English, which was handy since I know zero Dutch. I had read that many people in the Netherlands spoke English. Thankfully. I spotted restrooms as we walked and told Lucas I needed a minute.

I found an open stall and removed the leather collar. I got my real collar out of the bag and put it on. I realized that my heart was thumping...it took several deep breaths to calm myself. I got one of the smooth-bottomed locks and slipped it in place. "I love you, Mistress...thank You," I whispered, and snapped the lock closed.

The sound went through me like a jolt. I shivered hard, but then almost instantly after that felt better, lighter...I felt like myself again. I was back in one piece again.

We got my bag from Baggage Claim and Lucas led me out to the limo. I wondered how much of a bribe he had to give someone to get this waiting spot. Then again, perhaps Amsterdam doesn't work that way.

I settled into the back of the limo. Lucas advised that it was about a 25-minute ride to the hotel. He said I should press the button on the seat back if I had a question. The little window slid shut and I felt surrounded by blissful quiet and smoothness as the limo climbed the ramp onto the highway.

My phone again. Rick.

When you get to the front desk, tell them your name and that Mr. Travers left instructions for your arrival. Lenka and I can't be there when you arrive. Made yourself at home in the second bedroom and we'll be back soon. So glad you're here!

Everything went smoothly at the front desk. I was given an access card for Rick's suite and within a couple of minutes was alone, taking in the beautiful space.

De L'Europe

was truly a fabulous hotel, if what I had seen to this point was any gauge.

I looked out the window of my bedroom, then at my suitcase, then at the bed. Explore on my own? Unpack? Nap? I decided on the second option, then the third,

after

I called Mistress.

Mistress' phone went to voice mail. I left Her a message letting Her know it had been a great flight, I was at the hotel, waiting for Rick and Lenka, and how much I loved and missed Her.

I unpacked, got undressed and lay down. The last thing I remember thinking before I fell asleep was that it seemed almost a shame to be in this beautiful room with my eyes closed.

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I woke up a couple of hours later and checked out my bathroom, all marble and fabulous. A long, luxurious, shower later, I got myself dressed. I glanced at my phone -- almost 3PM. I had no idea when Rick and Lenka would be back.

I wandered into the main living room area and was about to try to figure out how to get something on the massive TV, when my phone rang. Mistress!

The sound of Katherine's voice on the other end of the phone was like magic to me. I launched right into everything I could think of to tell Her...the fabulous flight, the fabulous hotel, the fabulous shower...

This was not at all like me; I kept my end of conversations with Mistress concise, until I got the signal from Her that She wanted to hear more. I couldn't help myself this time; I think I only stopped because I literally was short of breath.

Mistress laughed softly and told me that She was glad I'd had a good flight and reiterated to me that She hoped I had a great time, and that I deserved this mini vacation, even if being Lenka's temporary BFF turned out to be bit more work than one normally expects on vacation.

I asked about Her; silly though it might be, I was worried about Her without me there to take care of Her. She assured me that She was going to be fine and not to worry. Of course, I would still worry, which She knew as well as I did.

We hung up and I sat down on the couch, content. I didn't need to watch TV, or need anything else, really. I should've been starving, but I wasn't. When Rick and Lenka got there, they got there. I was happy...not euphoric, but quietly fulfilled, somehow complete. The couch was so comfortable I felt as though I could sit there a long time without falling asleep or needing to move.

I'm not sure how long I sat there before I heard the door open. Rick and Lenka walked in, all smiles, and I got up.

I was about to greet Rick when Lenka ran to me, stutter-stepping in her heels, and hugged me tightly to her. I gasped partially in surprise in partially as a result of having some of the air squeezed out of me.

"candy! I'm so happy to see you! Welcome to Amsterdam!" She pulled back and held me by the forearms, looking at me with that gorgeous smile. She sighed and hugged me tight to her again.

I was stunned by this. I had expected Lenka to be...I don't know, standoffish, a little? Cool and aloof like a good supermodel? Whatever the reason and shocking as it was, I was happy for this reception. I told Lenka I was thrilled to be here and couldn't wait to experience Amsterdam and hang out with her.

Finally, Lenka let me out of the python-like hug, and I said hello to Rick. He seemed genuinely happy to see me and hugged me warmly. We all sat down, and Rick asked me how the flight, arrangements etc., had been.

I studied Rick and Lenka as we chatted. They made a spectacular-looking couple. Rick was attractive and Lenka was over-the-top beautiful. Both were expensively well-dressed. I fancied that they looked like a photo from a fashion magazine as they sat there. Rick was a man who was totally at ease with who He was, and Lenka was the perfect accompaniment to Him.

I thought about their "real" relationship...Master and slave. It wasn't

that

difficult to imagine, particularly for me, having experienced the commanding side of Rick.

Rick shifted the topic from the wonderful amenities of transcontinental first class.

"Before I forget, candy," He said, reaching into the inside pocket of His suit jacket. He leaned forward and handed me an envelope. I wasn't sure if I should look inside when Rick made that unnecessary.

"Some fun money, candy. I know you are going way out of your way coming here, and I want you to have the best time and indulge yourself with anything you might want. If you run through that, just let Me know and I'll give you more."

I thanked Him profusely and set the envelope down. I couldn't look in it now, but when I felt the envelope in my hand, I estimated there had to be $4,000 or so in there, if the bills were 100s.

I smiled as the conversation went back to other things. This was a very Rick gesture. He was the kind of man who was always looking for more ways to make money but not the kind to keep it to Himself. Rick felt best when He was sharing his good fortune with people He liked.

Rick looked at his watch. "The car to take us to dinner will be here at 7. The place is casual." I nodded my understanding and the two of them got up and went into their bedroom.

I went back into my room and looked in the envelope Rick had given me. I had been thinking in U.S. terms...the bills, of course, were Euro notes, not dollars. 100s and 200s. I counted out the "fun money"...6,800 Euros.

That's a lot of fun, I thought to myself as I started figuring out what I was going to wear.

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We had dinner at

Foodhallen,

a quirky-looking place with twenty different little stalls to get food from, along with craft beers and multiple bars. I was uptight for a minute when we got there; we seemed a bit mature compared to the prevailing crowd. But the vibe of the place just sweeps you up and you're surrounded by great food and drinks and fun people having fun, and nothing else matters.

I noticed from time to time that Lenka was getting some longer than normal looks from people. I wondered if the barrage of billboards and ads for Lionne perfume had made her recognizable already. There really was no way of knowing, though. Lenka was so stunning that people's eyes gravitated to her.

I studied Lenka a long moment as her and Rick were chattering away. She was remarkably at ease with herself. I speculated that that was a big factor in being such a great submissive. It seems paradoxical to most, but a to be a good submissive requires a lot of confidence. It had taken me some time to learn that and living it and remembering it was an ongoing effort.

I smiled to myself and dug back into to my little soft shell crab sandwich, savoring the taste. I washed it down with some beer I couldn't have pronounced given three tries and an audio prompt. I laughed, thinking it's no Rolling Rock, but it's good.

The evening out ended at a late-night pastry shop Rick knew of. Rick had told us that this place made the best

stroopwaffel

around, having never been to Amsterdam or ever heard of

stroopwaffel,

I wasn't one to argue.

But I was one to enjoy something sweet and sticky and gooey, elegantly served and accompanied by great coffee. It turns out that

stroopwaffel

means "syrup waffle" in Dutch, but if the translation turned out to be "little piece of fucking heaven," I wouldn't have been surprised at all. Basically, they make two round brown sugar waffles and put this caramel syrup between them. Eaten warm, it's beyond delicious.

And sitting here, enjoying this uniquely Dutch dessert with a supermodel and a CEO, looking out on ancient streets alive with the night, I felt way more cosmopolitan than I should have. I took a sip of coffee and smiled. Cosmopolitan, and so lucky. I unconsciously touched my collar and looked in the direction I thought the United States might be. Thank You, Mistress.

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Rick had given me the schedule last night on the way back to the hotel: He and Lenka had an appointment in the morning. Rick was busy all day, but Lenka would be back to the hotel by noon. We'd meet up with Rick for dinner...where and when, He'd let us know later.

All this was fine with me. To say I was playing with house money was an understatement...whatever the plans were, the plans were. Plus, the itinerary Rick had laid out allowed me to sleep in, which might've been the best part of all.

I slept like a rock and woke up a bit after nine. I had time for a leisurely phone call with Mistress, Who wasn't in a hurry either. Katherine knew of

Foodhallen

and was excited that we'd had dinner there. The little place where we had the

stroopwaffel

was a revelation to Her, though. I told Her that it felt so out of the way that it might be a revelation to everyone.

We hung up and I fell asleep for another half hour or so. Still, I had time to get ready at my own pace and by 11:30 I was done and waiting for Lenka's return.

I thought about money, and...I really wasn't sure how much things cost in Amsterdam. I grabbed about 2,000 Euros and put the bills in my purse. I idly wondered...if I got 6,800 in fun money and I was the guest, how much did Lenka get, being the girlfriend/slave? Not that it mattered, but it was the kind of harmless speculation that entertained me, and oddly, kept me focused on the important stuff. These little thought vacations, as I called them, refreshed me, and kept me sharp for the important stuff.

That was my story and I stuck to it resolutely.

Lenka got back to the hotel around quarter to twelve and by noon we were headed out. I didn't know if Lenka had any plan, but I was happy to just go along. I was hungry and asked her if she'd eaten.

"Starving!" she said with disarming genuineness. "And I know just the place," over her shoulder as she hailed a cab. I imagined that models were hungry about all the time but didn't think they admitted it so readily.

We had a fabulous meal at an all-day brunch restaurant. A courtyard in a parklike setting, right in the city -- an oasis within an oasis, it felt like. I had something resembling a grilled cheese sandwich -- very satisfying.

We talked at length about Lenka's job as the global face of Lionne, and again she was all refreshing honesty and genuine casualness. I didn't know if she knew that I knew her history; I imagined that her previous life had had more than enough drama and that now she was enjoying this life in uncomplicated fashion. She trusted Rick and trusted the process. I smiled, listening. That part I could easily relate to.

There was a lull in the conversation, and I was watching a bird fly from one rooftop to another when my phone went off.

I looked at my phone and Lenka read off the numbers...

2822 0106

She smiled and spoke in her straightforward matter-of-fact way. "It probably was understood, but better not to have any misunderstanding...yes?"

I honestly hadn't been sure about this aspect of things. I didn't know whether Rick's presence meant that Lenka was to be sub only. Obviously not, it was now clear. I hadn't thought much about the whole topic, having been caught up in what a good time I'd been having.

I wasn't unhappy about this development. I had come to the point in my surrender where the opportunity to be useful, to do what I do, grounded me, and made me feel good. It was one of those times where I became aware of having moved from some point where I'd been, to some new place. I speculated that Mistress' recent remedy for "bubbling up" had the additional consequence of pushing me deeper.

"Understood, Miss," I said. I hadn't really meant to refer to her that way. I blushed a bit.

Lenka smiled graciously and her smile put me at ease. "That's for later, anyway. It's not like I'm going to lead you around town on a leash."

We both laughed.

"Well...

probably

not."

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Lenka had the cabbie take us to

P.C. Hooftstraat

, the Rodeo Drive of Amsterdam. Unlike its Beverly Hills cousin, though,

P.C. Hooftstraat

combined the less expensive with the ultra-costly.

The atmosphere was electric -- beautiful people in pursuit of beautiful things, moving with purpose from one outpost of fashion to another.

In this environment, Lenka didn't stand out as much as she did in other places, and I could tell the looks she was getting were from those who recognized her as The Lionne Girl. I was grateful for that. I was not one to want to be the center of attention...Lenka being fashion-famous put even less focus on me.

Lenka was in her element here...the woman was a determined shopper and for a moment I wondered how Rick might feel about that. I laughed, realizing that all of this would appear on some expense report I'd be processing when I got back to the office...and it would all be written off on HTA's taxes. And keeping Lenka happy was a good business move, D/s roles notwithstanding.

For my part, I decided to have some fun with my fun money. I bought a stunning pair of Louboutin pumps I'd never have considered under normal circumstances. A few other, much less expensive items...a sweatshirt, a T-shirt. A delicate and pretty stone necklace for Mistress.

I needed to get something for Rick, too. Not that He needed anything, or couldn't get Himself anything He might want, but I did need to express my appreciation for Him bringing me here.

After some searching, I found an elegant mother of pearl tie clip. A steal at 25 Euros. I laughed to myself, thinking that Lenka had probably spent a thousand in the time it had taken me to find the tie clip.

I met back up with Lenka. Personally, I was ready to return to the hotel and take a nap, waiting for Rock's word about dinner.

Lenka suggested just that -- back to hotel, nap, and get ready to go out for dinner. I readily agreed.

In the cab on the way back to the hotel, I started to wonder if Lenka really meant "nap," or had something more energetic in mind that might also take place in/on a bed. It was Lenka's world -- I was just living in it, right now.

This time, at least, a nap really meant a nap. Once in my room, I practically flew out of my clothes and flopped down on the bed.

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We had dinner at

Bord'eau,

conveniently located in our hotel. This was a change of the original plan, but Rick's day had finished earlier than expected.

Bord'eau

was a destination restaurant, beautiful and elegant with inventive, impressive food. Add in the spectacular views of the Amstel River and the company and I felt swept away by the time dinner was done, and that feeling was the result not just of the couple of drinks I'd had. The Michelin Guide gave

Bord'eau

a star but the Candy Guide, much less well-known but far more inclusive, gave it as many stars as were allowed.

We went up to the suite and the mood abruptly shifted from enchanting and romantic to...candy serves Lenka and Rick. I was forewarned today when Lenka invoked the code on my phone, but still it was jarring to find myself naked but for collar and heels, standing in front of Lenka, while Rick was...on the phone, of all things.

Lenka laughed, looking over her shoulder at Rick a moment. "He's just taking care of His future situation," she said cryptically.

Lenka had me kneel in front of the table and proceeded to bind me expertly in a position that was immediately uncomfortable and promised only to get worse. I was balanced on my knees only, ankles bound to the backs of my thighs. My arms were out to the sides, tightly bound to the table legs.

I put everything out of my mind except the goal -- be pleasing and useful. Accept the inevitable.