"Do you fancy a Treasure Hunt? That might explain something."
I had made a whole dinner of questions to the man walking by my side. It was an interview, that was opening whole new worlds for me.
But let's retract to a couple of weeks before. I got a call for one of the websites I work with, it was the editor that commissioned me a job. There was the story of a professional domme, that was said to have worked for high profile movie stars, indulging in some racy thing.
And my job was to spin him to have some juicy stories to build an article around.
I had some trouble to get him, I tried to lure him with a professional request for an encounter, then I tried to meet him in a fancy joint where I got notice he would appear, then again I tried to contact him using his own website, drafting some of the points that I would like to touch during the interview. I wrote in the email some generic questions and some insight on what I'd like to get from our encounter.
Yesterday I got a reply, that he was sorry to having responded so late, but that he was in town and that he would like to meet me for dinner in a fancy restaurant in the center of the city, where I would be his guest.
He treated me to a posh restaurant in the most fancy part of town, and while he told me something of his job. At the end of the meal I had to excuse me to the loo, and while there I realized that he had spilled just little beans, some anecdotes, some stories. Obviously no name, and recognizable peculiarity was coming up from his mouth. That chatter still tickled my curiosity. I'm pretty clear of what he does to his paying partners, and I think I know what is in for him, for his libido, but I was still dubious about what his "victims" find in it.
After my toilet break, I returned to the table as he was paying with his credit card, and when we were alone I asked:
"Well, but can you tell me why your "victims" come to you? What are their feelings?"
All I got was a simple smile, like he was thinking on a way to explain it to me, as if it was something very difficult to grasp with just words.
And then he said: "Do you want to walk with me?"
"Yes, sure."
With that we left the restaurant, and we take a stroll in a nearby park. He was still silent, and did not responded to my question. Then the Treasure Hunt question.
Well, I thought, this may be interesting, and nodded.
He called up a taxi and we hopped in, in direction of a sport equipment store.
"Well, that is the plan. You get this and since I want to do some jogging because I feel stuffed up by our meal, your task is to buy all the required things for me."
With that he gave me a credit card, that I should use for this, apparently.
I was amazed, yet I managed to tag along and asked him what kind of thing he preferred. He told me that whatever should do, and he told me his size for the clothes, for the running shoes.
The cab stopped in front a huge store. I'm not so much the shopping spree type, but I was impressed. Is this a trial? How much would I spend not to seem cheap? And not to seem a big spender?
What a conundrum. Obviously he had other plans, since he left me at the entrance going with decision to a certain section of the store. I was so involved with my task that I forgot to check him out.
It took me the most of a hour, just to figure out the size and model. You would not believe how it is nerve wracking to buy something for someone you barely know. Finally I set down for a plain tracksuit and some running shoes, then socks and such.
As I got to the cash registers I saw he had a big shopping bag in his hands and he was waiting for me.
So as I went to pay with his money under his watchful eye, I immediately felt humbled by this. I could feel his control over me, he had told me what to buy, he had subconsciously set his expectations over me. Something in my mind was screaming "What the hell is going on?"
As we left the store, he hailed for a cab and told him an address near the park we were before.
The car ended its journey in front of a bar, a very posh one. He told me to exit and as he enter the bar, I could spy that he handed a bill to one of the waiters. We were conducted in a backroom, a sort of reserved space.
There was a table, some seats, and I could see that there was also a private bathroom.
"Can I?" I asked, like I was a little girl asking his teacher to leave the room.
"Absolutely. By the way, please change in these, we are going to the park afterward, remember?"
With that he handed me something that he had in his shopping bag. I went in the most luxurious bathroom I've ever been. A large mirror on a side, a basin, stalls big enough to have a dinner in it.
I closed the door after me, using the key that was there. Then, as I was alone I browsed what he had bought for me. It was a one piece tracksuit, made in a flimsy material, enough to cover me from ankles to neck. Did not actually know what to make of this.
There were also running socks and shoes. He got my size, incredible. Well, decided to play the game and proceed to undress to my underwear.
The suit was more substantial than what I had guessed, and it was form fitting. As I got to the bust part I figured out that there was some sort of support, so that also my bra was useless. So I took it out.
In the end I found myself nude, but not really nude.
Well, I had to admit it enhanced my body, and all the right curves were in the right place. Would I be comfortable to go outside just with this? Would I be comfortable to let him see me in this?
I guess this is part of the hunt itself, and since I had come to that, there was absolutely no point in fleeing right there. On top of that he did catch my measurement with a marvelous skill, and also he got my taste, the suit was in a light blue and despite not being heavy, the fabric was not see thru.
I collected my clothes in the bag and went to the other room.
He had changed as well, and I must say he did look good in his track pants and jacket.
"You look gorgeous my dear. I think you have reached the first step of the hunt."
Looking at him distracted my sight from what he had strewn on a nearby table, there was a bunch of rope, all neatly displayed in coils.
I was silent.
"Here are the ground rules. You can stop me anytime, but obviously the treasure hunt stops here, and the interview stops too. Do you understand?"
I just nodded, has he took a coil from the table and with measured gestures he proceed to find the middle point. Slowly he then ties a nook in that position and rest it behind my neck.
He comes near me, I think he can smell my odour. I look at him while he is looking at the rope. The two drapes come down in front of me and he makes some knots every 5 inches.
"Open your legs slightly." I did as I was instructed and the rope passes between my legs with a knot resting just between my legs.
Then he thread the rope in the nook on my back. Then he started to weave around my torso.
"This is the basic form of rope bondage. It is called "shibari" and it is quite comfortable, I can assure you."
Crisscrossing on the back and then threading on the rope in the middle of my torso, he proceeded to create what I later learned is called a "harness". As he was positioning the rope, I could feel the pressure growing either in my crotch and in my anus, and on my breasts.
The harness forced also my back to keep straight.
The excess was knotted in the small of my back, out of the way, then he picked up another rope and proceeded to thread it above and below my breasts trapping the upper part of the arms to my side, then he again cinched under my armpits, adding pressure.
On the table there was also another thing, it was a fitness overall, pants and jackets.
"Wear these over the harness we do not want to make a scene, do we?"
"No, okay." At that point my voice was trembling as if the balance of power had shifted significantly. I gave him just a hint of control over me and he definitely took it all.
I wear those clothes and in the end I could look at a mirror that was on the side of the room, and he was right. Nothing could be seen from bystanders. But I knew was was under my dress, and the worst of it was that every movement I made by simply walking had its repercussion on my body, squeezing my breasts, moving the knots over my crotch or tensing the rope on my belly.
"Shall we?" he gingerly said, and I realized that I had no other choice than to follow up in this treasure hunt.
We left the place and, before I could completely process it, we were heading again to the park. Among other people, among other runners, trussed like this?
He noticed that I was trembling and hesitating, and he gently pushed me by the elbow, whispering "Don't worry, there are only two people that knows! Me and you."
"Are you sure?" I managed to ask.
"Well, nothing is showing and I can assure you that there were no one else in the room before. Third, do you trust me?"
"How can I? I've known you for three hours, how is possible that I can trust you?"
"Well, actually, you have trusted me enough to let me bring you in a room, make you dress in clothes of my choice and follow me in the park without alerting anyone."
This made me blush, how much he had twisted my hand without me even acknowledging, really impressive.
"Should we sit and talk?" He gestured a wooden bench in the park, a little sideways from the walking paths, to get a more reserved space.
A million questions were twirling in my mind, but I seemed to have lost my voice. So the interview took another sharp turn from my expectations.
"So, tell me how you feel?" Direct to the point.
I just closed my eyes, could not bear his inquisitive stare.
"Well, I have to confess that I feel as if I have lost all control on the situation. Then it seems to me that everyone in the park is able to see through my clothes and understand all the trappings underneath."
He pressed.