Clara knew she was in trouble the moment she stepped into his study. He gave her specific instructions through the site. She was with the Submissive for Hire group for a few years now. Most would confuse it for an escort agency, it was in some way not at all that. People and their bloody opinions could fuck off for all that she cared.
The email dated two days ago wanted her only in heels, a navy blue jacket with a matching scarf and bra. The specification for Red lipstick was a bit scary. The agency delivered a package to her this morning. In it she found a lipstick: Red Lust no 6 from some designer group she could not pronounce- it was French and looked expensive. She liked the color for sure, it matched her skin perfectly. How would He have known? The agency made sure only descriptions where published and no pictures.
Heels check, she decided on the red close toe killer heel. She could almost see her reflection on them. They matched her lipstick, she liked it. Navy jacket and bra another check, the bra was lacy and her breasts looked damn good in it. She almost had to go... The scarf was bothering her. Wrapped around her slender neck or loosely placed? Clara decided on loose. It made strangulation possibilities less. She felt that familiar ache between her legs. It's been a while since she was strangled a bit. She bit her lower lip. The cab was waiting now.
The cool air made her jacket ruffle a bit, her nipples were erect now and Clara had to fight the urge to turn around for more clothing. The cab driver drooled a bit but she gave him the address and put her neon pink earphones in. She had to focus.
The drive took about 40 minutes. She was a bit early. Asked the driver to go around the block, she studied the house... modern yet sophisticated. Most of it had large open windows. The garden looked like something from a fairy-tale. Rose bushes everywhere. Red ones. The wind swept some of the petals in the air. The yard was enormous. She read the last part of his correspondence. She was to address him as Sir only. The gate would open automatically. The code she had to type in at the front door was 11160. He would wait in his study. "Open the first door on your right-do not touch anything". She smiled at that, "yeah I make a habit of touching stuff first and then fucking you"
Clara arrived on time. Got out of the cab. The camera projected her image on his security system. Clara felt like sticking out her tongue, but held back. She would not give some poor security guard a peek. No. She walked the stone pathway to the front door. She got a grip on herself and punched in the code. Swoosh.. and the door opened. Impressive house. Her heels made that familiar click clack sound - it announced her presence for her. She hated that. She wanted the element of surprise. The house was just as stylish inside as outside.
She opened the door. He was standing by the large window overlooking the garden. Not sitting behind the desk as she expected. He wasn't dressed like she expected either. No Suit and Tie. He didn't look her way. She wanted to greet first. He cut her off. 'Glad to see you can tell time and follow instructions.' He had a navy blue t-shirt on with dark blue jeans. She rolled her eyes. It was better than sarcasm. Her mouth got her in trouble most times. He was right beside her before she knew it. He had one hand clasping her throat and the other feeling her behind. He whispered into her ear. "Roll those pretty eyes one more time and my belt will teach you a lesson". Clara gave a small chuckle. "Right she thought" most men only wanted a good fuck. They never could behave like proper dominants.
