I saw her jump down from the train, scanning ahead. She spotted me instantly and began to run. Was I ready for this? She fussed with her ticket at the barrier, her frustration with the fiddly machine breaking her smile momentarily. I stood still as she pulled herself through breaking into her run again, arms wide when she threw herself around me, hugging tightly. I staggered backwards a bit, not quite taken by surprise but a little overwhelmed by her enthusiasm. She pressed her lips against my cheeks, before burrowing her head tightly into my neck.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you." was all she kept saying over and over again in her sweet Australian lilt.
I pushed back gently, uncoupling her from me. She was beaming, radiating excitement. She was exactly how I imagined her - a fire in her eyes, an uncontrollable smile, a youthful femininity about her. I took her all in. Every detail about her noted in an instant. My heart was beating fast but I didn't want to show her just how excited that I actually was. I stepped back, holding out my hand to take hers and lead. I picked up her small overnight bag, the perfect gentleman.
"Hello, it's good to meet you. You need to come with me now." I said softly and coolly, my expression as flat as I could make it.
Her face dropped, her smile disappearing to be replaced by a look of puzzlement.
I tugged at her hand. "This way." as I lead a few steps ahead of her pulling her behind me out through the front entrance of the station and into the Glasgow streets.
Although the Friday morning rush hour had just passed, a queue had formed for the black cabs outside in the rank. I walked briskly past to the waiting private hire that I had pre-booked. I wanted to show her that I was organised; a man in control. It was only a short ride to the hotel but it was neither an inconsiderable walk nor through the best area of Glasgow unless you firstly walked down to the waterfront. No, a taxi was better. We'd be exhausted if we walked at the brisk pace that I would normally set and with the sun shining, unusually for this city, I may not have remained the picture of cool calm that I endeavoured to portray. I sat in the car in collected silence, looking forward whilst catching her studying me in my peripheral vision. It's surprising just how much detail you can actually see peripherally, it's something that always amazes me. I so wanted to turn around, pull her close in and land a huge kiss on her lips but I knew that ultimately an action like that may spoil what I hoped would be the pinnacle of this short journey of self-exploration that she had set me out on.
***
I could never understand the whole game of domination and submission. I had always thought of the act of love or sex of being a transaction based on equality. You gave, and you received - end of story! Nothing else to it. I disliked the concept of one party being sub-servient, as my understanding of domination and submission was at that point. I would feel like I was exploiting a vulnerability, or taking something that was not quite mine to take - selfish, self-centred actions. But then again I had not really thought much about it at all. I had associated domination with pain; submission with weakness. I hadn't really been attracted to all the BDSM costuming and paraphernalia. Nor the imagery, the fake-ness and sometimes the downright weird. It was a category on porn sites that I would by-pass, not even with a passing interest. The extremes were probably what I associated with my view of BDSM; unable really to disassociate the SM from the B&D. "A little bit of bondage is fun" someone once said to me online which, fair enough, could be quite playful and I could think back to a distant past when I had tried that, only to end up in fits of laughter at my bodged attempts to tie a very willing partner to the bed. Not much domination was forthcoming in that attempt! In reality it was not an area that did much for me. Vanilla appeared to be my flavour. That is until I found Lupo.
She considered me to be a natural dominant. I laughed at the thought. Me! Ordering someone to do something purely for my pleasure. Me? Yielding a cane or paddle, a naughty bare-bottomed girl across my lap? All the stereotypes filled my mind. Me, the 'Daddy dom'? Me, wearing the standard outfit of a smart dark suit with my 'sub' wearing high heels, stockings and suspenders and not much more?Okay, I admit that I do have a perchance for erotic imagery that may or may not involve a bit of seductive dressing and undressing but to play it out in reality appeared unimaginable. But then, I suppose the eroticism that accompanies the B&D scene is rather better than the crude misogynistic portrayal of women in most internet pornography.
At first I shook it from my head. But more and more of our chats veered towards talk of a dominant / submissive nature. She had told me a few things about her past, it raised more than a few eyebrows! She got me thinking. Thinking about the sex that I had enjoyed in the past. What I liked doing. What I longed for myself. Was there a natural tendency within me for domination or submission? I couldn't tell. I couldn't strike the line between domination and submission - in my mind it continually blurred. If I felt that I was in control, perhaps going down on my lover, was I not in fact being submissive as I was giving the pleasure, not receiving it? What was domineering about that? At what point do you switch? A term that I realised existed for that very reason.
So I set to thinking. What really does it mean to be dominant? What does it mean to be submissive? At what point do you 'switch'? What are the pleasures? Why was I finding it a bit of a turn on that she thought of me being a natural dominant? And clearly, she was willing to be submissive towards me, very submissive, wherever that may lead.
It was hard to think past the stereotypes but I wanted to work out what she really meant. Why was I a natural dominant? She hardly knew me at all. She lived on the other side of the Earth after all. Literally! Eleven thousand miles or just less than eight thousand if I started digging. And yet, she did seam to know me, and I believed I had a good measure of her. I wasn't convinced that she was the true submissive she thought that she was, nor I the dominant she may expect. I resolved to explore however, avoiding any research; avoiding the stereotypical ideas as much as I could; simply thinking things through to come up with a plan to test whatever theories that may fill my mind.
For many weeks I thought about it. Is it about exploitation? It was clear that there are many instances which quickly veer into abuse - mental or physical abuse - and that was unpalatable to me. Or does equality and equity figure? The words that I associated with BDSM all had negative connotations in my mind - slave, pain, inflict, imprison, dungeon, whip, spike, gag, stern, restrain, bound and similar. And the associated imagery, particularly how women are represented - thin, pale, 'baby-girl', begging, hopeless, compliant, if submissive; leather, rubber, dark hair, big breasted, strong, if dominant. Gradually I settled on what I thought would suit me, well at least the dominant side that Lupo had talked about. Dominance, I decided, was about control. Respect, control and release. Lots of respect, lots of control and, ultimately, exquisite release. And loyalty. It fitted perfectly if I thought about it like that. Perfectly for me, that is, as perhaps the dominant she saw in me.
Which brings me to where I am now.
***
Firstly, a few more background details to help you make sense of this journey.
My Lupo does live on the other side of the world. Australia to be exact, diametrically opposed to my home in Scotland. We had gotten to know each other after I stumbled upon her online in my feeble attempt to participate in the world of Roleplay. That seamed now in the distant past.
She had enchanted me from the start, perhaps I had enchanted her. Over the months we had grown to know each other, intimate details exchanged over the anonymity, or rather the belief in the anonymity, of the web. Perhaps we were each looking for a soul mate. Perhaps a relief from a mundane existence of our own lives. That doesn't really matter and I don't need to go into anymore details. Suffice to say, she had connections in Scotland and had already made arrangements to visit long before we stumbled upon each other, to repeat a phrase.
So we had arranged to meet. She was taking the weekend off from her visit, travelling up to Glasgow, a short train journey, to meet with me. I had planned to play out her fantasy, or maybe it was my fantasy after all. I needed to test if she was correct in her conclusions about me.
So here we were, the back of a private hire cab. Together. Her beaming in delight, myself with a stoical look of self control but with extreme excitement building within me. 'Not allowed to let that show, though' I thought as we neared our destination.
***
We pull up in the forecourt of the Glasgow Hilton. I had selected this particular hotel specifically for its spectacular views across the city. Earlier I had checked in and scouted out the room that I had chosen. I had been specific - a room on the highest floor, North facing, a large room with full height floor to ceiling picture windows. Double King bed, the largest they have. I had rearranged the furniture to ensure that it was laid out to my liking, opened the curtains wide. I knew that she would instinctively go straight to the window to look at the view. Who wouldn't? The North facing aspect would mean I wasn't blinded by the low but strong mid morning sunlight. Much as I like to admire a woman's shape silhouetted against the sun, I wanted to see the details of her. Every detail. To take her all in.
I lean forward and hand the driver a couple of twenties although the fare would only be about ten. He raises an eyebrow and jumps out to open the door for Lupo. I open my own and climb out, the driver handing me her bag.
"Have a nice day, sir," he says and casts a silent nod in Lupo's direction.
I lead her in, straight past the reception to the lift lobby, the concierge nodding respectfully in recognition of my earlier visit. I ask her to enter and follow her in. We stand in silence. I can't work out if she feels puzzled, annoyed or disappointed in my forced silence and politeness. I keep this facade up as we arrive at the top floor. I lead her directly to the room, slide the key card in and invite her to enter first.
As expected, she immediately runs to the window. The excitement of when she first saw me at the station returns.
"This is amazing!" she says in her light Australian lilt. "This view is fantastic."
She turns to me beaming, the full height window lighting her up perfectly.
She's expecting me to join her in her excitement. I remain cool and collected, standing near the door, fighting my own inner desires to smile back and enjoy our enthusiasm together. I step forward and sit on an armchair that I had positioned some way back at the foot of the enormous bed. The room was large and I had earlier created a clear space between the bed and the window, with the long settee against the wall and the coffee table pushed out of the way.
"Step forward," I order softly, gesturing with my hand to the centre of the space. "Stand. I want to see you."
She steps forward into the centre of the space shrugging her shoulders, her arms outwards towards me.
"Well? This is me." she says smiling.
I stare at her, holding my cold look.
She giggles and pirouettes around.
"Am I to your satisfaction, sir?" she continues playfully. Perhaps I had misjudged her ability or desire to be submissive.
