The Submission of Amelia

He led her out of the apartment on his arm, his hand draped casually over the top, letting her know that her chances of escaping were next to none. She sighed internally; she didn't know what the hell was going on with her. Never once had a man taken control of her mind and body in the way this man had.

"So," she said, clearing her throat, "You still haven't told me your name." Her eyes cutting to his, seeing a glimmer of mirth in the depths of her steel-blue eyes.

"I told you what you could call me Amelia, that hasn't changed. The only name you get is Sir until you can show me that you're a good girl."

He opened the door of a late model BMW and ushered her inside, leaning over to snap the seatbelt into place. He leaned back, looking into her eyes before his head lowered and he captured her lips in a soft, almost loving kiss. Just as quickly as it began it was over and he dipped out of the car and shut the door with a soft click.

As he entered his own side, she glared at him, "I am not a child, I can buckle my own belt, and I have never been a good girl so you might as well give the name up." She bit out, a little angrily. She was getting sick of whatever this game was. First, he denied her orgasm and then he brought her to soaring heights the next time. Her body and mind were at war with one another, and she didn't much like it.

"Amelia, I know you are confused and a grown woman, but I like to take care of what is mine." He said, offering no further explanation. "Sit back and relax, we're going to go have a nice meal and chat, get to know one another."

"How can we get to know one another when you won't tell me your name," she snarled a bit, adding a snarky "Sir!"

He didn't answer instead choosing to merge into traffic. The ride was silent, Ameila seething. He was an expert driver, not taking his eyes off the road, calm and cool amidst the idiots on the road. He slowed, moving into the turn lane. They turned into the parking lot of

Le Petite

one of the newest and reportedly hottest restaurants in town. He pulled up front and a valet rushed to open his door, he handed the keys over and looked at the valet standing at Amelia's door and shook his head slightly, the valet backed up. He circled the car and opened her door putting his hand out for her to take it.

He led her into the restaurant where the maître d' was waiting for them. "This way sir," the man said in a low tone. He put his hand on the small of her back and pushed her forward, following closely behind her. The maître d' led them to a quiet booth at the back of the restaurant, the lighting low and romantic. She slid into the booth, expecting him to take the other side and instead he slid in next to her.

"Is there something wrong with the other side?" She asked, slightly incredulous.

"Not at all, but I feel like being near you mine," his voice low, like melted chocolate.

Amelia fidgeted a little. She wasn't used to the kind of attention this man was giving her. She hadn't had a real relationship in years, well, never. Was that what this was? The start of a relationship? He was strange, but not in a scary way. He just did things to her, her mind, her body, that she wasn't used to.

"Amelia, stop fidgeting, do you think I'm going to rape you in the middle of the restaurant?"

Amelia relaxed a little, he was right, she was being a little ridiculous. "Okay, Sir" she said sarcastically. "So, you wanted to get to know each other, so what do you want to know?"

He chuckled softly, "oh, Amelia, we have all night." He leaned over and took her lips in another gentle kiss. "Relax, enjoy your dinner, and we will just let the conversation happen normally, okay?" He bit her lip before releasing her. He raised a finger from the table and a perfectly dressed waiter appeared from nowhere.

"Well, have the smoked oysters to start and a bottle of your finest chardonnay."

"Yes, sir." He said, turning and walking away.

"I don't like wine." She mumbled. "You could have asked me you know?"

"Amelia, this is going to be an experience for you, just relax and enjoy it, won't you?"

Amelia slumped against the back of the booth, her eyes hooded. "What's your game? Why me? What is all this?" she blurted out.

He turned to her, pulling her up to sit properly "a lady doesn't slouch Amelia," he said. His hand grazing over her shoulders and down the V of her dress. Dipping inside for a moment to cup her breast, her nipple peaking hard against his palm. She gasped, never had she been treated like a toy, a doll, all for someone's pleasure.

"Amelia, relax, I can see the troubled look in your eyes. It's not merely my pleasure mine, if you just give in, the pleasure you'll feel is beyond anything you could ever imagine." His hand slipped from her dress, and he straightened it just in time for the water to appear with their bottle of wine. He uncorked it expertly and pour a tiny bit into the waiting glass. Sir picked it up, swirling it before sniffing it. He took a small amount into his mouth and then nodded at the waiter who poured he perfect amount into each glass. He left the bottle and turned away, disappearing into the dim interior.

"Fine wine is something to behold," he said, holding the glass out to her. She took it, sniffing it and smelling oak. She took a small drink, and the taste wasn't awful. She set the glass down and turned to him, he had a tiny gleam in his eyes, almost amusement. "See not bad right?" he leaned in kissing her gently again. The waiter returned shortly with their oysters, something else Amelia had never had.

"Are you ready to place your order sir?" he asked, softly. She heard him order, her mind swirling. Before she knew, the waiter was gone again, and they were left alone.

"Relax." He commanded gently. His hand cupping her knee, she jerked at his touch, remembering the last time he had touched her knee. Slowly his hand began moving up her thigh and under her skirt. She wanted to slap his hand away, her cheeks flaming. He found her center, warm and wet, and smiled knowingly. His finger slid along her slit, one finger plunging into her. "Quiet now Amelia, don't let anyone know what I am doing to you." He commanded.

He continued to stroke her, his thumb on her clit, his finger inside her. She moaned softly, trying desperately to hold in her cries. He watched her, his eyes never leaving her face. He thrust another finger inside her, and she bit her lip, tasting blood, her moans trapped in her throat. Her hips were moving of their own accord, her walls clenching, gripping his fingers like they were a lifeline.

"Do you want to cum mine?" staring at her, watching her eyes glaze over with need. "All you have to do is ask, but if you cum without asking there will be repercussions."

Her head jerked up, her hips still moving furiously, aching for release. "Ask?" she stammered out, thoughts incoherent, the ability to form words a foreign concept.

"Yes, ask me."

Her mind recoiled at the command, at the dominance but the words were out of her mouth before she could even think, "please Sir, oh God, please let me cum. I need to cum for you so bad."

With that his lips found hers, his thumb pressing hard against her as she flew apart, screaming into his mouth. Her body releasing in a wave of ecstasy. He held her as her body was wracked with the most intense orgasm she'd ever felt in her life. Slumping against the booth.

He dropped another kiss on her mouth as he removed his hand from her, smiling as he brought his fingers to his lips and slowly licked them clean.

"You taste as good now as you did earlier." The wicked gleam was back in his eyes. "Now, mine, was that so hard?" he asked. Leaning back as the waiter appeared with their meals. She gulped and shook her head, still unable to form words.

They ate their meals in silence, the smell of sex swirling around them. There was no way the other patrons in the restaurant didn't know what they'd been up to.