Sitting on bar stools on a busy Thursday night in London, Carmen and Justin appeared to all the world to be a average couple out enjoying an evening's drink; calm, collected, an established couple relaxing after a day's work in the city. Each knew the other's nervousness, that the self-possessed air was practised and hiding butterflies in her stomach and a knot in his throat. Her calm, almost aloof manner stemmed from being in character: Her metal band necklace was actually a collar, under her jacket and skirt she had exquisitely delicate underwear, suspenders, seamed stockings and heels which, on closer inspection, were better suited to a pole dance club than an office. In public she would be Carmen. In private she would be Miss Conduct, addressed simply as "Madam", the means of address she deemed most appropriate for her as a Domme. Justin's cool exterior was a result of his time in the Marines, any inner turmoil or uncertainty about what they were about to undertake was kept in check such that only those who knew him best could see past his apparently neutral, relaxed public face. The suits in the bar talking finance, IT and insurance paid little attention other than to sneak a look the pretty, lithe blonde in great shoes perched cross legged at the bar or the tall, muscular, clean shaven man with neatly cropped hair and an outdoorsy tan.
It was Justin who noticed her first. A barely perceptible lull in conversation as half the straight men in the bar lost the thread of their conversation momentarily, their heads turned for a fraction of a second to track her as she walked in. Following their gaze Justin picked her out across the crowded bar, beautiful soft pre-Raphaelite brunette curls, her pencil skirt just a little too short, accentuating her long legs and hugging her tight toned hips and arse, her tailored jacket pinched right in at the waste and cutting a V down her chest which revealed an average but beautifully firm cleavage but hid any clothes that she had underneath. Her high cheekbones emphasised by her make up, as were her dark pink lips. Her over-done eyes were heavily lined, her thick lashes dark, long and probably fake, framing huge brown doe eyes which, despite being wide with embarrassment and nerves clearly sported a pinky-purple eye shadow of a shade reserved for lap-dancers and porn stars. She stopped in the middle of the bar and looked around anxiously.
"That's got to be Candy." Justin whispered to Carmen, placing his hand on her knee as he leaned in to her ear.
"All that yoga seems to have paid off." Carmen tittered knowingly "although I doubt she is as flexible as me."
"Ever competitive." Justin replied as the two of them briefly revelled in her discomfort. She was not their sub and they knew it poor manners to use her as such before having even met her Dom but nor did they presume to let her off the hook entirely.
"That will be Al then." Justin said gently nodding past Candy and towards the door. He was smiling, not a broad amused grin nor one of enjoyment of Candy's superficial beauty, but a smile of satisfaction and pleasure at both her obedience and discomfort. Six foot, dark, broad, he was dressed in slacks, jacket, the sort of shirt that could be worn with a suit in a deliberate choice to blend in with the after work crowd. His choice to not stand out made Candy all the more aware of the eyes on her.
Justin stood and moved across the bar to give her some respite.
"You must be Candy." A statement rather than a question.
"Yes Sir." She replied meek but relieved dropping her gaze slightly.
"I'm Justin," he said warmly "Won't you take a seat?" he asked gesturing toward the bar stool he had himself just vacated.
"Thank you sir." She replied quietly, not wishing to be over heard by the other drinkers.
Carmen watched Candy walk towards her. She knew that Justin would want to steal a glimpse of Candy from behind, to watch her back side move as she tip toed along in those huge heels with her long shapely legs but she also knew that his impeccable manners would mean he would forego that particular visual treat for mow. She smiled at the thought of him trying to burn eyes in the back of his head as he turned to Al and moved to offer his hand.
"Al." A firm grip and hand shake accompanied recognition from the photos they had exchanged online.
"Justin. You do know how to make your sub make an entrance. Where did you find her?" Justin asked, attempting and failing to contain his amazement.
"I don't find harlots, I make them." Al replied with a knowing grin.
Justin smirked and nodded his appreciation and smiled "Hence the name. Come and meet Carmen."
They went over to the two women who were now sitting side by side as Carmen ordered a round of drinks. She stood up and offered her hand as Al approached.
"Delighted." Al said, cocking his head slightly and nodding as he took her hand.
"Thank you." She smiled back "You may wish to remind your sub that it is Madam, not Mistress or Miss." She said, regaining her perch on the stool.
Al slipped his hand into his pocket and fished out a black leather bound notebook. Briefly scribbling in it he stowed it and took a seat so that Candy was flanked by him on the left and Carmen on the right. Justin sat on a stool next to Al forming a semi-circle abutting the bar. "I note all her misdemeanours. That ways she knows that she will pay later but never knows what she is paying for."
Candy squirmed visibly in her seat, catching her breath and swallowing hard. Justin regarded her and after a moment she relaxed and reached for her drink on the bar. Just as she lifted it she tensed again, gripping the glass hard and shaking slightly, struggling not to spill any.
"Remote control." Al explained, taking a small plastic key fob from his pocket. "Try it." He offered Carmen the fob which she accepted rather too eagerly.
It was surprisingly well made for what amounted to a sex toy control. Smooth and unexpectedly heavy holding it in her palm was an unexpectedly sensual experience. She pressed the rubber button and felt a satisfying click as Candy took her drink from her lips and swallowed hard and deliberately. Carmen left it running longer than Al had watching fascinated as Candy started to rock slightly and her eyelids became heavy. Carmen keyed the fob again, Candy's body betraying her disappointment even as her face flushed with relief that she had not been made to orgasm in a pubic bar.
"What do you say?" Al addressed her.
"Thank you." Adding quickly, "Madam."
Al saw Justin's wry smile.
"Oh, It gets better than that." He said, rather proudly. "Under her jacket all she is wearing is a rope corset I tied her into earlier. "Here" he placed a hand on her waist encouraging Carmen and Justin to feel for themselves.
"Wow. No wonder she is blushing so much." Said Carmen.
They chatted more, Justin and Carmen instructing Candy that she was to use their names while they were in the bar. The atmosphere was friendly, jovial even, with laughter and jokes as they talked about themselves, their own experiences and lives and asked about each other. For about an hour or so they relaxed into each other's company; they were four friends meeting for a post work drink...
After a while, Al excused himself briefly and instructed Candy to use the ladies leaving Justin and Carmen at the bar alone.
"What do you think?" Carmen asked.
Justin took a long breath. He clasped his hands, elbows on the bar and rested his chin on his thumbs. He stared at the mirror behind the bar pensively, watching the other drinkers, the man in the grey suit with white cuffs getting agitated into his mobile phone, the group of secretaries apparently out for a birthday getting drunker and louder than the other groups, the guy in his mid fifties in chinos and a blazer staring across a table at the younger man, out of place in here in his jeans and t-shirt. Finally he saw what it was he was looking for. Candy and Al, discretely waiting in a corner. They were chatting quietly, her smiling, him with an arm around her, tender and doting.
Justin drew two fingers across his lips and tapped them twice.
"I think that they are genuine. I don't think she is being coerced into this. I'm comfortable taking it further. What are your thoughts?"
"I agree. They do seem genuine and sane. I'm happy. She is gorgeous, he reminds me of you a little, I think their dynamic is like ours: he is pushing her but only where she wants to go. He seems to be talking responsibility for her. I'm happy to go to the flat and watch. Where are they?" She replies and looks around the bar to wave them back over.