Note #1: This scenario will be written from both the Domme side and the sub side. The submissive side is titled "The Long Night (sub)." I suggest choosing one or the other to read first based on your sexual preferences. Each version focuses on the thoughts and emotions of the Domme/submissive as the night progresses.
Note #2: In this case, the Domme is considered a "soft" Domme. As you read this version, I hope you see why.
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It all came together that night.
I sat in the high-back chair near the window. The hotel staff did not disappoint with my request for a specific type of chair in the room - padded arms, open on the sides; a well-padded seat; cabriole legs; an open back with a padded banister down the center; a thick crest rail on the top; and sturdy, curled ears topping the corners. It looked to be in the same family of furniture as that in the upscale lobby, but they must have kept this chair in a separate space, perhaps for elite guests.
I propped my feet on the coffee table. The staff had also done well with this request - a very sturdy five by three foot highly varnished mahogany variety with taller legs than your average hotel side table. The rest of the room was just as perfect. The television was prepared for connecting to my laptop and had been raised on the wall. Below it, a large dresser with four drawers now held a few of my favorite things. The hot tub was open to both the large bathroom and the main room, with curtains on both sides that were tied back. And the bed - oh, the bed. They found it odd that I requested a double rather than a king or queen, but they met this request, too. The headboard was a beautiful wrought iron sculpture, with thick scrollwork and tall posts on either side. The footboard was a shorter mirror of the headboard, with a thick top rail just above the level of the high mattress.
The smaller bed allowed room for another thin mattress on the floor. That was the one request the hotel questioned, but they still provided what I asked for.
As I sat in the chair, with the only light being the soft moonlight coming through the sheer curtain over the oversized window behind me, I thought about how everything had fallen into place.
We'd starting chatting months ago. I'd followed her posts for a couple weeks before privately messaging her, concerned she might meet the wrong sort considering what she was revealing about herself. She knew she was submissive; she knew the ideas of bondage and mild pain excited her. The responses to her posts were predictable - men who were more than happy to tie her up and hurt her "their" way so she "behaves like a good pet cumslut"... on and on they went.
Me
: "Forgive me if I'm intruding as I'm not what you're searching for. I'm a female Domme, but I just wanted to reach out and make sure you weren't being harassed too much here. If you'd like to talk sometime, let me know."
She didn't respond for a week, and I had almost forgotten I messaged. Then, on a Friday evening, I received the notification that I'd gotten a new message.
Her
: "I wondered if I would get any interest here, but it seems I've found the dark side of this site. Thank God I didn't give any identifying information out; I've honestly been looking over my shoulder everywhere I go worried I'd get attacked or something."
I'd suspected as much.
Me:
I'm so sorry you've had that experience. I can attest that there are good people here but finding them amongst the deviants and perverts can be difficult.
We exchanged messages a few times that weekend. She wasn't a virgin, but she was naïve to anything that wasn't missionary vanilla. She'd tripped on a series of short stories that excited her beyond anything she had experienced, and she took the plunge into posting hoping to learn more about submission. Never in a million years did she expect this night would come.
My cell sounded with the cute little "meow" ringtone I'd assigned to her texts.
Her
: "I just got off the interstate, Mistress. I see the hotel."
Me
: "You are to park on the far side, under the second window from the left."
Her
: "Yes, Mistress."
For the past seven months, she'd never forgotten to address me properly. Once we had agreed to start this journey, she'd forgotten once... and didn't hear from me for a week. She asked for "punishment" when she didn't do what we agreed on, so I provided when appropriate. The worst punishment to her was silence from me. She'd learned her lesson, but it was very hard not to contact her that week. We'd become close friends in addition to Domme/submissive, and now she was the first person I called when I needed to rant about work or just needed a pick-me-up.
I walked to the door and turned on the light in the foyer. Yes, that would work. I crossed back to the chair and stood beside it, standing in the middle of the window but back far enough that I could just see the parking spot she should pull into very shortly.
Sure enough, within five minutes, a small car pulled in. I watched her get out of her car and pause. Would she go through with it? I still wasn't sure. If she got back in her car and pulled away, I wouldn't hold it against her.
She moved to the other side of the car and paused again, her hand on the car door.
I put my hands in my pockets, just watching her.
After a couple minutes, she opened the door and pulled her bag from the passenger seat. She put the strap over her shoulder, then took out her cellphone.
Her
: "I'm here, Mistress."
Me
: "Look up."
It took her a moment to lift her eyes to the third floor, where I stood near the window looking down at her. I knew she couldn't see my face, but she could see my silhouette with the dim back light coming from the foyer.
