This...

I had been coming to these nearly-weekly events for a couple of months. Following a rather traumatic divorce, I'd decided to relocate back to Chicago and to re-engage in real-life BDSM activities, which I'd completely avoided during my years of marriage. Rather reserved by nature, I'd known that it would take a while to re-immerse myself into the lifestyle community, and I was fine with that. So, I'd been coming to events hosted by this local group, but staying toward the back, at the periphery. Tonight's gathering was a typical discussion meeting. As usual there were perhaps a dozen Dommes present, a couple of invited Doms, and 20 or so submissives; a large enough group that someone like me could keep a low, quiet profile. There was a presentation on shibari techniques, followed by a broader discussion, with a break for refreshments in between.

As appropriate, the Dommes took their refreshments first, then the subs. I was among the last of the subs to approach the table for coffee and a piece of cake. After filling my cup and plate, I stepped back, bumping into someone. I became flustered when I turned and saw it was one of the Dommes. I'd seen Her at several of the meetings, but W/we'd never spoken.

"Please excuse me, Ma'am," I sputtered out quickly, my cheeks flushing and my head bowing, both without any conscious effort on my part.

The Woman flashed me a brilliant smile, shaking Her head and not moving even an inch. "No problem," She said in a rich voice. "I've seen you here before, haven't I?"

"Yes, Ma'am, I think You have. My name is lee," I stuttered out, immediately regretting that I'd not simply answered Her question rather than volunteering information She had not asked for."

"lee," She said, swirling the word around in Her mouth for a moment, almost like She was testing a wine. "That's a good name for a sub, short and simple. Like 'boy' ... quite appropriate." As if I weren't flustered enough already, these words nearly caused my knees to tremble ... and I was entirely uncertain if She were teasing or serious.

"Are you here alone, lee?"

"Yes, Ma'am, I am."

"Well, I'd like for you to join me for the rest of the meeting. Set your coffee down, please, refill my cup, and you may bring the cake ... I'll be eating that," She said cooly, entirely matter of fact, handing me Her coffee. "I'm sitting in the front; join me there." Then She turned and headed back to Her seat.

Setting aside my cup and refilling Her's, I hastened to comply. When I arrived at the front of the room, She smiled, said not a word, but pointed to a pillow on the floor beside Her chair, on which I melted to my knees, my heart pounding. Turning Her attention from me, She continued to chat with another Domme, only after several minutes touching my shoulder and taking Her coffee. After several more minutes, She also took the cake, again not speaking a word to me. As She conversed and enjoyed Her refreshments, I watched the group begin to re-congeal for the second part of the program. Those who had drifted off for private conversations began to return; the host Domme was having Her boy reconfigure some of the chairs for the panel discussion. I was shaken from my mental wanderings.

"lee."

Turning my head slightly, I saw that She was leaning down, holding a small bit of cake in Her fingers for me. I lifted my gaze up to meet Her's and She nodded encouragingly. Carefully, gently, I took the cake in my lips, oblivious to any taste it might have had, my sensations entirely overwhelmed by this simple, telling act of submission ... something I hadn't done in what, decades? But I was not given long to savor the moment. Before I'd even had time to swallow, She asked, a steely edge to Her voice: "What do you say?"

"Thank You, Ma'am," I was able to rasp out, hoping I didn't spray out any of the cake I was struggling to down.

"Good boy," was Her simple response before turning Her attention away from me, back to the conversation quite literally above my head.

As the host Domme was calling the group back to order, I heard a voice whispering in my ear, my nose catching a whiff of Her perfume. "I hope this goes without saying, but while you are here, you don't speak or move without My permission. Understood, lee?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good boy. And keep your gaze on the floor. I want you listening, not looking."

For the next hour or so, I listened intently to the discussion that focused on ways to mark a submissive. It was a fascinating discussion, including both subtle and explicit, temporary and permanent ways to mark a sub or slave. One Domme went on at some length about She made Her boy wear wear toe rings and anklets, which made me shiver, almost able to imagine the feel of such items under the business suits and wing-tip shoes I wore on a normal work day.

The Domme at whose feet I knelt -- I still did not know Her name -- said nothing more to me during the discussion. I could hear Her shift Her position above me, though, and once more She held down a piece of cake for me to eat from Her fingers ... tugging gently at a lock of my hair when I whispered my thanks to Her. Otherwise, the only other "communication" W/we had was when somewhere in the back of the large room, a door closed loudly. Instinctively I looked up, turning toward the origin of the sound. Almost immediately, I heard the snap of Her fingers and saw a long, expertly manicured finger pointing down to the floor, a silent command to re-lower my gaze, which I obeyed. Cheeks burning for a moment, I assumed O/others had noted this, too. As the discussion rolled along, my own attention was distracted, wondering to what extent I'd just been "marked."

Having lost most track of time, I was a bit surprised when the meeting drew to a close and the host Domme thanked all of U/us for attending and reminded the group about an upcoming social event. As those around me rose to leave, so did the Woman above me. Pointing to the empty cup and plate, which She's placed on the floor beside me, She said: "Take these things back to the kitchen, lee, then return to Me."

"Yes, Ma'am," I replied before scurrying away to obey as quickly as I could ... anxious and very uncertain about what, if anything, would happen now.

When I returned, She was chatting amiably with Another as the room was clearing. I didn't know whether to kneel again, but She saved me from anguishing over the matter by excusing Herself from the conversation and turning to me.

"I have enjoyed meeting you, lee. Thank you for joining me."

"It was my pleasure, truly, Ma'am; thank You."

Warming me with Her smile, She continued. "If you have to go, I understand. But, if you have time and would like to talk more, the evening doesn't have to end right now."

Relieved, but not surprised, that She was taking the lead, I nodded my head eagerly. "I would like that, Ma'am, thank You. I can stay."

"Good," She said, a tone of true pleasure -- I hoped -- in Her voice. "Wait for Me by the door. Head bowed, lee ... and you are to speak to no O/one. Understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I said, feeling the familiar burn in my cheeks.

So, I stood to the side of the door, watching the feet of those, Domme and sub, as T/they exited. Mind swirling about what had happened this evening, I lost track of time and didn't fully realize when She approached until She urged my chin up with Her finger. There was no smile on Her face this time, just a rather flinty look, almost a frown as She pushed my chin first one way, then the other, taking in my looks before forcing my head back down and saying simply: "Heel."