I spent the next 10 days at the gym. I cut my calorie intake dramatically, in fact, I cut it too much as I was feeling pretty weak most of the time. I had reached a plateau and I seemed to stop losing at 195. On the Saturday before my dinner with Miss Rebecca, I was down to 193. In desperation, I resorted to an old wrestling trick. I cut holes in a plastic bag for my head and arms and wore the bag each time I worked out, hoping to lose the last three pounds in water weight.
I didn't sleep Sunday night. I was simply too excited or nervous about seeing Miss Rebecca again. My flight back to LA was uneventful. I tried to focus on work, but at noon, I excused myself, saying that I had another appointment. At 4:30, I showered, then dressed. I was fully dressed before I remembered the panties. I retrieved them from my luggage and slid them up my legs. I posed in front of the mirror. I didn't think that they looked that good, with my hairy legs, but my cock was rock hard, pushing the front of the panties out obscenely. I reached the gym at 5:30. I asked for Greg at the desk and waited for him to arrive.
"Yes?" He stood at the reception desk. A tall blond, muscular man.
"I'm Michael."
"How can I help you Michael?" He remained standing next to the receptionist, who now had a smirk on her face. He made no attempt to move.
"I, uh...I'm here for Miss Rebecca's weigh in." The receptionist giggled, but Michael just smiled and came out from around the desk.
"Well, let's get you weighed in then, so you can get on with your evening."
He led me back to the same scale that Rebecca had weighed me on before.
"Up you go. What was your goal?"
"190"
"OK, let's see." He adjusted the scale. "Oh no, you didn't make it. You're a half pound over. She is not going to be happy."
I panicked. "I'm so close, can't we just call it 190?"
"No way, you don't lie to Miss Rebecca."
"What am I going to do?" I lamented, not really speaking to Greg.
"Well, it's just a half a pound. I'm sure your clothes weigh more than that. Let's go weigh you in my office." He turned and started towards his office.
"Shit, I can't strip in front of him, not while wearing this thong," I thought. Then my body moved on its own, following closely behind Greg. Greg closed the door behind us and pointed to the scale in the corner. "You'd better hurry, man...she doesn't like to be kept waiting."
Sighing, I stripped off my shirt, then my shoes. Greg was watching me intently. I undid my belt, paused for a moment, then took a deep breath and slipped out of my pants. I watched the smile grow on Greg's face as I stood before him, wearing only Miss Rebecca's thong.
He just shook his head, "Nice thong man."
I climbed onto the scale and waited for him to adjust the settings. "189.5. OK, get dressed." I quickly dressed and was about to ask where I was to meet Miss Rebecca when he handed me an envelope. "She told me to give this to you."
"Thanks." I started to open the envelope, but he stopped me, indicating that he had to get back to the floor. I immediately went to my car and tore open the envelope. Inside was a folded note and a four foot long piece of leather lacing. I opened the note.
Dear little michael:
Congratulations. If you have received this envelope, you have followed my instructions to the letter. You have no idea how important following directions will be for you as we move forward. Right now, Greg has just kicked you out of his office and is on the phone to me, telling how you did. I wonder what he thought of your cute little thong? I'm sure he loved it and will want to see more of you in it at a later date.
I am waiting for you at Le Petit Maison on Santa Monica Blvd. Take the leather lace and tie it around the base of your cock and balls. Cut a small hole in your left pants pocket and thread the lacing through.
Hurry now sweetie. I am waiting for you.
Miss R.
I quickly scanned the parking lot and finding the coast clear, I unzipped. I managed to tie the leather around my cock and balls. My cock immediately swelled. I ripped a small hole in my pocket and threaded the leather through.
I arrived at Le Petit Maison, adjusted my cock so it wouldn't be so visible and entered the restaurant. In the lobby, I quickly scanned the tables, but did not see Miss Rebecca. The maitre'd approached.
"May I help you sir?"
"I don't think so. I'm supposed to meet someone here, but I don't think she has arrived. "
"What is the name on the reservation?
"You know, I'm not sure. Her first name is Rebecca. Do you have something for Rebecca, or..." I paused, then took another step towards submission, "Miss Rebecca?"
"Yes, of course. Miss Rebecca. She has not arrived yet, but I will show you to your table." I was shown to a dark booth in the corner of the restaurant. After a few minutes, I sensed a flurry of activity and watched in amazement as no less than three waiters and a man I assumed to be the owner or manager, escorted Miss Rebecca to my table. She looked ravishing in a low cut red dress that did nothing to obscure her tempting cleavage. I stood as she approached.
"Good evening, Michael. I'm so glad that you were able to come." She offered me her cheek, which I obediently kissed. I held her hand as she settled into her seat.
"Is everything to your satisfaction, madam?"
"Marcel, could you please have the place settings changed so that we may sit side by side?"
"Of course, madam." The manager nodded to one of the waiters, who immediately began to rearrange the settings.
"Now Michael, I believe you have something for me?"
Marcel was still standing beside me. I hesitated.
"Now Michael." Her voice barely raised, but the tone was clear. I was there to obey her. I pulled the leather lacing out of my pocket and held it out to her. She picked up the end of the leather daintily, holding it so everyone could see what it was.
My face reddened as Marcel's eyes went from Miss Rebecca's hand and followed the leather to its origin. When his eyes were locked on to my crotch, Miss Rebecca gave a firm tug of the cord, causing me to immediately double over and having the adding effect of sending blood racing into my cock. Marcel saw my erection growing and smiled slightly. "I'll send your waiter right over."
"Thank you Marcel."
"Sit Michael." She pulled me to her.
"Thank you Miss Rebecca."
"You may call me Mistress now, Michael. Are you ready to be my sub? Do you want to be my sub?"
"Yes Mistress, more than anything," I breathlessly gasped, staring into her deep green eyes. I towered over her, but there was no doubt as to who was in charge.
"Do you know what being my sub entails, Michael?" Just with her speaking of my name, I knew that it didn't matter what it entailed, I was in.
"No, Mistress."
She smiled. "Well for now, let's just say that it means that you will please me in whichever way I desire."
"Yes Mistress."
The waiter arrived at the table and asked us for our drink orders.
"I would like a Cosmopolitan, please."
He turned to me. "I guess I'll have a Maker's Mark on the rocks."
"Excuse me," Miss Rebecca interrupted, "He'll have a Mimosa. Bourbon is much too manly of a drink for him." I bowed my head in embarrassment; not wanting to see the smirk on the waiter's face, that I was sure was there. As the waiter walked away, she pulled hard on the cord. "You need to understand that you have no say on anything when you're with me, and actually most of the time when we're apart. I've decided to have you and you have agreed. We will formalize everything later, but for now you need to understand-I own you."
"Yes Mistress."
"Now get on your knees and ask my forgiveness for being so presumptuous."
"Here?"
Anger flared in her face. "Now!" she said, loud enough that the patrons at the tables around us turned.